#but yeah the color drop it only like properly fills | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lazyneonrabbitt · 8 months

Text

Inked

Tattoo artist!Carmen Berzatto x Reader

3.1K | The cute, blue eyed guy does your tattoo, then he does you as well.

Smut, Mikey lives AU, improper use of a tattoo station.

Carmy, who always stops his work to make sure you’re greeted properly when you deliver their lunch.

Who gets numerous complaints from the other artist in the shop when he suggests ordering sandwiches at The Beef during lunch for the third time that week.

“You just want to see he girl again.”

“we’ll agree this one time, but only if you ask her out.”

Carmy, who gets stupidly jealous when you’re getting a tattoo from the guy who does your preferred style of tattoos.

Carmy, who’s pretty sure you don’t even know his name.

So when you come into the shop that day with the ordered sandwiches, he’s gathering the courage to ask you but he never really gets the chance. When you drop the bag at the desk as you usually do, you’re immediately chatting with Layla, the lady at the front desk, about something he can’t hear from back at his station. He sees you take a piece of folded paper from your back pocket and hand it over. A moment later he sees Layla point at different flash sheets behind her on the wall, as if she’s having you choose a style. His observing is stopped by a sandwich being handed to him.

Eventually your serious conversation seems to have ended as all that’s heard over the now resumed buzzing of tattoo machines is cackling laughter from the front desk, which he was still happily watching between his appointments. Normally he’d been sketching in between his clients. Either refining his next appointment’s design or working on new flash designs, but today his mind wasn’t anywhere near a canvas.

He did catch the guy that did your previous two tattoos linger near the front, which Carmy was a asshole move since you clearly wanted something different than usual, otherwise you would have asked for him immediately.

He shrugged at his own thoughts and went back to enjoying his sandwich and watching the scene from a distance, hoping to catch the guy’s disappointment when you picked someone else.

And as if he had spoken it into existence he saw his eyes widen and immediately scrunch up in annoyance, huffing angrilly as he stomped past carmy’s station and glaring at his smile.

His small, mental victory cheer was short lived, though.

“Yo, Bear!” Layla’s voice bellowed through the shop. “Get your ass over here for a sec.”

With every step he took to the front he got more curious about what was on the piece of paper you had brought with you, but he was also feeling better with every glare he got from mister rude guy.

He stopped at the counter, leaning on it and awaiting his friend’s explanation for calling him over.

Layla scoots him the paper with a “She loved the coloring on these,” as she points at the open binder filled with colored pencil drawings. “You think you can work that into this design she brought?”

Carmy lets out a laugh as he picks up the paper and looks it over, already picturing what he’d do with it color-wise and looks back up to you. “So, you want this exact linework with this color palette," with a gesture that moves from your picture, to his open binder. "But with this type of coloring?" He looks at you with his fingers on a watercolor piece with soft pastel tones under smooth curves of a globe, a waterfall flowing from one ocean into the soft blue background. The design looked like an upgraded version of the small line only piece he had on his arm.

“If that’s possible, yeah.” You nodded excitedly before looking back at him. “It is possible, right? If not I’ll think up something else or whatever.” The disappointment your own thoughts were causing you was clear on your face, so much Layla almost felt bad for you.

A hand on your arm quickly made the thoughts disappear. “I’ll make it work, yeah. I got this.” He takes a pen and writes down the design details in he upper corner. “So, how soon do you wanna get this done? I got some open spots not too far out.”

“Really? I got this week left before we close the shop for renovations so I got all the time then.” You bounced on your heels from excitement as you worked out the appointment details and he handed you his card. “Thank you so much!” You put the card in your back pocket and looked around for a clock. When you spotted one you realized just how long you had been there. “Shit, I gotta go! If I walk fast I’ll make it back before my break is over. see you in two weeks!” You waved to them and called out a goodbye over your shoulder as you jogged out of the front door.

~~~

You kept the little appointment card in your phone case, getting more and more every day.

You got so giddy about it, the Beef staff teased you about it endlessly during the first week of renovation, up to the second you walked out of the door on your way to the appointment.

Arriving at the shop without your work attire or a bag of food felt strange but you were insanely excited. During your waiting time you had been stalking Carmen's artist instagram as well as the parlor's. You had initially picked Carmen as your artist for this piece because of his style, but after really taking a close look at his new posts your mind was already collecting more and more plans for him to cover your body with. But you would be lying to yourself if you said you hadn't been enjoying those tattoo hot take videos of theirs. Honestly you were glued to your phone whenever either page posted something new.

You arrived early so you quietly sat down at the front after saying hi to Layla. From your spot you could see Carmen busy getting his station ready for you, your quickly folded, printed design taped to an armrest.

After a couple of minutes he came up to you, offering you something to drink before walking you to his station.

"So, you nervous?" His sweet smile made all of your nerves disappear and smile back confidently. "Not anymore now that you're here." You couldn't help it, you were so much more excited for this piece than your first ones.

Maybe because this is the first big one, or maybe because of the intricate colors. Obviously because of the insanely cute guy being up close and personal with your thigh for hours.

It surprised you how much effort he had put into your piece. "We never discussed the size, only the placement so I printed the linework in different sizes." He looks at your leg, comparing the prints. "Look in the mirror for me? Which one do you prefer?" His eyes follow yours through the mirror as he moves the stencils onto your leg one by one. "The second one, but maybe a bit higher up?" You leaned in slightly to tap your leg up t where you want the design to be and Carmen follows your taps, holding the paper carefully for you to judge in the mirror. “Yeah, that’s perfect!” You smile at him, following his movements as he puts the sheet between the foils and transfer paper and runs it through the machine. After cutting the piece out again he grabs a sharpie and kneels down in front of you. “Alright, I’m gonna need you to stand perfectly straight for me.” He puts his hands on your hips to turn you all the way to the mirror and places the piece of transfer paper onto your leg. “Right there, yeah?” “Yeah.” You stare as he takes the sharpie and marks its position before taking it off again. He grabs a bottle of liquid and puts some on hi8s gloved fingers to rub it onto your skin. “Okay now stay still.” He steadily holds the paper between his fingers, his pinkies resting against your skin for stability as he carefully lines up the markings and smoothes out the design onto your leg. Giving it a few careful brushes to make sure it stuck everywhere, he gives it a once over and peels it off carefully, checking if it transferred fully.

You watched him work with his full attention on you, no chatting with the other guys or casual conversation. Only making sure you’re getting the best work. When the stencil was fully off your leg he got back up again. “While that dries, lets go over colors.” With a hand on your lower back he led you towards the small desk hidden behind the bar like wall that separated the stations from the front of the shop. “This is what you brought,” His hand splayed out on the desk. “And this is what you requested for the coloring.” carmen opens a leather binder and pulls out a couple of pieces of paper, turning them over and placing them down for you to check. “Holy shit.” It was all you could get out, honestly. You had imagined what the finished concept would look like, but this was so much better.

“This one has the original colors your print has too, and then these two have small edits that I personally thought would look better on skin.”

The first one was what you requested, but the other two had such a better palette. “That one.” You put your finger on the last one, it had the best balance of the original colors and Carmen’s additions. “Yeah, that’s gonna be the one.” The excitement in your voice and that little bounce when you announced your decision had his heart do a flip. He smiled back at you and went to grab and prep all the colors needed for his work. “Go lay down for me? Make sure you’re comfortable and don’t touch the stencil.” You stared and nodded, hands behind you as you backed up against the leather seat and hopped on. He followed your movements while shaking multiple ink bottles. “Or stay seated, I guess, if you want to watch me work.”He smiled at your shocked blush as he turned back to his toolbox table and started pouring colors into tiny tubs. You watched as he compared needles, holding them to the printed line work and placing every needed item neatly on his workbench.

A few buzzes from the machine indicated the end of his setup.

“Okay now you really gotta lay down.” With a gesture of his hand he rolls over with his seat and positioning your seat so he can easily work on your thigh. Once he had you comfortable and got ink on he needle he gave you one last word that he was gonna start. You gave him a thumbs up in response. He looks up at you, raise brows as he asks again. “I’m gonna start now, you good?” “Yeah. Yeah I’m good to go.”

With that said he rubbed vaseline over the bit of skin where he decided to start and carefully pulled the needle across your skin. The scraping burn felt painful at first, but with time it faded into a dull feeling as you stared up at the ceiling catching Carmen’s gaze from time to time whenever he asked if you were doing okay or needed a drink.

By the time the lines were finished the rest of the artists had left for the day. Even Layla came by to have a look at he progress before she called it a day. You sat up and accepted the glass of soda, looking around the empty shop. "We usually don't do tattoos today. Just bookings and designing." He spends a moment cleaning his machine, changing to a different needle for the colors. "I got lucky and have most of my scedule filled out for the upcoming time, so I could take you today." He finishes up prepping for color and cleans off your leg once more with a quick "sorry.". You swore the alcohol on the towel hurt more than the needle.

“You good to start on colors?” You gave a nod in response and laid back down. “Yeah, let’s go!” He gave you an approving smile, loving that you answered him immediately this time.

The colored reference you chose was taped to an armrest next to you. Carmen studied it for a bit, choosing the best order of colors. Again, the buzz of the machine notified you of the start of round two. You kept your breathing even through that first burning moment again and laid still, relaxed and content. The two of you made some stupid small talk, joking here and there. Whenever silence took over for too long he’d start narrating whatever part he was currently coloring, or you would ask tattoo trivia questions that he’s happily answer for you.

The hours passed way quicker than you expected and before you knew it your leg was being cleaned up for the last time and you were carefully helped off the leather seat to take a look in he mirror. With a hand on your back he led you closer to the wall. “Man, walking feels weird now.” You mention and get a laugh in response. “It’ll have faded by tomorrow morning.” He looked at you from his spot beside you, taking in the way you’re staring at your new art piece in awe. “so?” His hand slid a little lower, squeezing right at the hem of your shorts. “What do you think?” His eyes were still on yours as he asked. “It’s perfect, holy shit Carm you’re amazing.” Your thigh was now decorated with the bold, black cartoony linework of a carebear, colored with pinks and blues, beautifully blending into each other and its details done in such smooth thin lines you could stare at it forever.

Your gaze left your tattoo and turned to the side, staring right into his eyes. Your eyes flicked over to his lips for a second before you grabbed his curls at the back of his head and pulled him in for a kiss. Your sudden move caught him off guard but he quickly returned the kiss, one hand slipping lower onto your ass and the other one holding your hip to make sure you wouldn't rub your freshly tattooed skin against his jeans.

“Lets get that leg wrapped up, shall we?” He guided you back to his station to wipe and wrap your thigh, securing the wrap with pieces of tape.

You were leaned against the large seat with Carmen kneeling in front of you, his eyes on yours. In a moment of confidence you put your hand in his hair, carding your fingers through his curls as his hands moved up to the hem of your shorts waiting for your permission.

A tug on his curls lets him know him he could go ahead, carefully pulling down your shorts and panties while making sure he's not dragging the fabric over your wrapped up skin.

Looking up through his lashes he hooks your leg over his shoulder and inches closer until he's right at your centre. "You got no idea how long I've wanted to do this." With that he closes the gap amd his mouth is on you, his tongue dragging over your slit in a broad, slow stripe.

"Fuck, Carm.." Your fingers curled into his hair and pulled him even closer. His nose brushed against your clit and his tounge easily slid into you, tasting all of you. His moans vibrated through you, having you buck your hips into him almost riding his face. He pulls away for a moment to breathe "Taste so good.. Bring this over for me next time you do a food run?" He jokes with his head against your good thigh, those bright blue eyes staring up at you.

You let out a breathy laugh. "Only on food runs?" The hand in his hair moved down to his jaw to guide him back up. His hands find your hips and in a moment his lips are back on yours. "Gotta thank my brother for always sending you over," He kissed along your jaw. "Got high, spilled about my little crush on the pretty one that brought our lunch that day." Moving your head your lips find his earlobe. "Chef may or may not have heard me talk about the cute artist with the blue eyes and pretty curls a couple of times.."

He smirks against your cheek and steals a kiss before grabbing you by the hips and turning you around.

One hand moves up to your back and presses forward so your upper body is laying against the cool leather of the tattoo chair, while the other kept your thighs at a small distance from the chair. With your head resting on your forearms you look back at him admiring you. When he caught you staring he gave you a quick look with raised eyebrows, looking down at where your ass was pressing against the front of his jeans before looking back into your eyes. A smile and a wiggle against him as response told him enough as he pulled his sweats and boxers down far enough to take out his cock ad rub it between your folds. “Don’t tease, Carmy.. Just put it in,” You press your hips into his again, practically begging him. “please..”

With a roll of his hips he pushes in slowly and leans down to kiss down your spine and softly bit your shoulder blade before setting a steady pace, holding your hips close to his so he won’t accidentally shove you into the chair. Your sighs and moans are sounding trough the parlor as he fucks into you with rhythmic thrusts. “You’re not charging me extra for the happy ending, are you?” Your smartass remark only got a pull on your hips and rougher thrusts as a response. He kept up his fast pace until you were seeing stars and his thrusts started getting sloppy. His forehead was pressed against your back as you clenched around him, taking a few more snaps of his hips before he stilled with a moan. “Shit, if you let me do this more often I might even let you walk out without paying at all."

You shifted so you could look back at him, sweat and curls stuck to his forehead, a tired amile on his face. "Fetch me something to clean up with and I will."

You both got cleaned up and laughed together, chatting about all kinds of stuff. Planning a small dinner date during opening night at the restaurant and betting on how each of your work teams would respond to the two of you dating.

You did end up not having to pay for the tattoo.

~~☆☆☆~~

A/N: lets all pretend Mikey runs the Beef and shit never went bad.

#sometimes i write #the bear #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear imagine #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut

505 notes · View notes

dancingtotuyo · 9 months

Text

Build You the World

Joel Miller X Reader

Rating: PG-13 (Language)

Warnings: fluffiness, just fluff

Summary: Joel was stupid. Saying sorry the only way he knows how, Joel built you something.

Pre- Outbreak/ No outbreak because I want them to live a happy undisturbed life together.

Notes: We take a break from our regularly scheduled Narcos/Javier Peña content to give you this teeth rotting fluff piece about Joel Miller. Cross posted on AO3

Words: 1286

Series Master List | Author Master list

Joel sucked in a breath. Supplies scattered on the floor around him. The industrial fan blew the hot Texas air into his hotter garage. Sarah rode her bike around the driveway, purple fairy wings strapped to her back. She chatted on and on, no doubt caught up in a make believe land. He needed to take the training wheels off her bike. Maybe tomorrow he would have time.

Joel’s gaze drifted back over the supplies he’d bought at the hardware store this morning. Sarah had asked what he was making as her little legs struggled to keep up with his long strides. She’d noticed the unusual components he gathered. These weren’t for a job or the back porch he’d been working on all summer.

“Secret project” he’d winked at her and thankfully, she’d accepted it.

He hadn’t been able to sleep last night. He’d handled the whole situation badly. It was 2 am before Joel gave up the tireless pursuit of sleep and drawn up the plans. He currently wondered if he’d bitten off more than he could chew. He was a contractor. He did big projects like framing houses and decks. His fine carpentry skills left a lot to be desired.

Joel pushed those thoughts from his head. He could do this. He wanted to do this.

One lunch break, two first aid breaks, (a splinter in his thumb and a skinned knee for Sarah) and a nap (Sarah’s) later, Joel had all the pieces shaped and sanded. He couldn’t help but admire his handy work. Sure it was a simple design and yeah, it wasn’t assembled yet, but he’d made this. He just prayed it all fit.

Sarah colored at his workbench. She’d woken up not long ago and was still quiet from her nap. “Daddy, what are you making?”

“Top secret, baby girl.” He winked at her, pulling the wood glue and clamps from the cabinet.

She sighed in exasperation turning back to her coloring book. Joel hummed along to the classic rock station. His tshirt clung to his body wet with sweat. At 5:30, the temperature was just beginning its slow descent. He started to assemble to the first side, praying he’d made all the slots the correct size. That had been the most tedious part, ensuring it would all lock together properly.

“Daddy, I’m hungry. Are we going to have dinner soon?”

“Soon, I want to get this first side put together first.”

Sarah sighed, her hair floating up and then falling back over her eyes. Joel chuckled, kissing her forehead. “Why don’t you go grab a cheese stick to tide you over?”

“Okay.” She slid off the stool, running inside.

It slid together with relative ease. Only a few profanities dropped from his mouth when he dropped something or spilled the glue everywhere.

He was jerryrigging the clamps when Sarah squealed, darting out of the garage. He glanced up, just able to make out the blue sedan that pulled in behind his pickup. Your blue sedan.

Nerves coursed through him. He reached for his beer. It was warm and flat now, barely touched. Sharp power tools and alcohol don’t mix well. He ignored the taste, taking another gulp. After last night, fear and shame filled him.

Sarah held your hand, talking a mile a minute as if you didn’t kiss her Goodnight last night. You laughed at something she said, but he heard the way it doesn’t quite reach. The first thing he noticed were the dark bags under your eyes and the red rings around them. Guilt flooded him. You need sleep more than ever right now. He felt the exhaustion radiating off of you.

You attempted to make yourself more presentable before gathering the courage to come over. The shower helped, your hair still damp and curling. The mascara kept running so you left it.

You round the corner with Sarah. Joel can hardly look at you. To be fair, you don’t really want to look at him either. You don’t want a repeat of last night but you can’t ignore the situation at hand either.

You finally call up the courage to look at him. You’d grown proud of yourself for learning the ins and outs of Joel Miller in the two years you’d known him. You could read him like the bedtime stories you read to Sarah, silly voices and all, but right now the pages of him blurred. Maybe that was just the tears you fought back.

“Sarah, do you want to grab your fairy wings to show-“

“Yes!” Sarah didn’t allow her father to finish. She was gone through the door in a flash of dark curls.

“She’s been excited to show you. Can’t believe she wasn’t wearin’ ‘em.” His Texas drawl popped out sending shivers down your spine. He forced a smile.

You wanted to return it, but other things pressed your mind. You weren’t good at diversion.

“Joel.” Your lip quivered and you hated yourself for it. You felt out of control right now.

He sighed. “Come here.” He cocked his head back stepping further into the garage.

The fan pushed air through your hair and skirt granting mellow relief to the heat.

“I’ve been working on this.” He swallowed presenting his scattered workspace. He read all nerves but there was the briefest sense of pride too.

Pieces of carefully shaped and sanded wood laid about in piles. You caught sight of what he’d put together. “Porch railing?”

You failed to see the connection. Not to mention it looked too tall and narrow to be for the back deck. And what was with the arch? Was he trying to build a trellis? He’d been talking about putting in some raised beds for you and Sarah.

Was this some kind of joke? An “I’m sorry?” It hardly accounted for one.

“No, it’s a-“ he sighed, running a hand through his curls. He needed a haircut. You had planned to take the clippers to it last night until things went awry.

He picked his notebook up off the work bench. The leather bound one you got him for Christmas. You were convinced he didn’t use it. It sat on his nightstand and you were sure if you’d picked it up, you would see a dust outline. He handed it to you.

You could tell he hadn’t used it much but that didn’t really matter. Your breath caught, all else forgotten the moment your eyes landed on the page. It was rough, dotted with measurements and notes, but it was clear as day all the same.

Tears built up for a whole new reason.

“I stayed up all night working through the design. It's nothing extravagant, but it’ll be sturdy… and safe.” He stuttered.

You traced the design with your finger. All the doubts from the past 24 hours, gone just like that. “You designed a crib?”

“It’s cherry wood. I know that’s your favorite.”

“You designed a crib for our baby?” You stepped into his bubble. You couldn’t believe it. Of everything you anticipated tonight, this was not on the list.

“Baby, I’m so sorry for last night. I was a jackass-“

“Joel Miller, Shut up! You’re building this?”

You looked at him like he hung the fucking galaxy, and his heart settled. He knew the two of you would be okay.

“Yes.”

You kissed him, arms thrown over his shoulders, tears streaming down your face as the nightmare turned into a dream.

You would hear his apology out in full later, lord knows you deserved it after last night, but right now, you just wanted to celebrate. Celebrate him, your love, and the little bundle of joy to join the three of you in 7 short months.

#joel miller #the last of us #fanfiction #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #fluff

302 notes · View notes

midnight-black2 · 10 days

Text

𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

pairing : farleigh start x reader

synopsis : you decide to show farleigh just how much you love him

disclaimer : praise, sub!farleigh, softdom!gn!reader, masturbation (m receiving), very sappy, just a bit vanilla unfortunately but i wanted to keep it gender neutral

note : this is loosely inspired by the song "to love" by suki waterhouse, so to enhance the reading experience, listen to it !!

it was dark outside, the moonlight spilled into your dorm through the window. farleigh lie next to you, peacefully. the two of you completely content with the warm silence that filled the room. completely content in just each others presence. he was looking at the moon and you? you were looking at him. he seemed, preoccupied; a look on his face you couldn't quite decipher.

"y/n?" farleigh called, softly.

"hm?" you hummed, eyes darting between his and his lips--you couldn't decide what was a better sight.

"i think you're the only person who's actually cared for me...loved me, even," he said, pensively as he kept his eyes on the moon. there was a beat of utter silence. "i mean, just think about it, you were supposed to be out having fun with your friends and instead you're here, with me. anyone else i know would've dropped me in a heartbeat."

"you don't know that," you answered, with a small frown.

"oh but yes i do," he countered, with a sigh. he chuckled, he didn't know how else to deal with his feelings but laugh. alas, he was never good at expressing himself through words. "it's just i-...why do you stay? even when im rude, or i don't communicate properly like im doing now, you stay. why?"

"because i love you, farleigh. you're the only person i've ever wanted to be around. we understand each other, and i understand you, all of you. your flaws and your strengths," you responded. it almost broke your heart the way he couldn't see how much he meant to you. "i love you so, so much."

"yeah?" he queried, a small grin creeping up on his lips, as he turned over to face you.

"yeah," you assured, returning the smile. he leaned in just a bit closer, your noses touching.

"let me prove it to you," you uttered out, against his lips. his brows furrowed slightly, as he swallowed shallowly.

"what?" he questioned. he knew what you meant, although he wanted to hear you say it.

"let me show you just how much i love you. then maybe you'll stop all this crazy talk," you said, eyes flickering to his lips. he nodded eagerly, a small smirk on his face. you pulled him into a kiss, a gentle one. you wanted to treat him right. your hand found its way to his cheek, holding gently. you slipped your tongue inside his mouth, before you adjust yourself to straddle him. you break away from the kiss, the both of you breathless.

"you're so pretty, love," you said, gazing into his eyes. his cheeks turned a crimson color, as he kept eye contact with you. you leaned back in for another kiss, before grabbing the hem of his jumper. he helped you in the effort of pulling it over his head. you tossed the sweater off to the side, before you trailed kisses down his chin, and to his neck. you left faint marks and hickeys on his smooth skin. he sighed pleasurably at the feeling.

your hands traveled down his unclothed chest , your fingers grazing his nipples, causing his breath to hitch in the slightest. you smiled at that, reminding yourself of how sensitive he really was. your hands found their way to his jeans. his eyes were trained on you, anticipating every single action you made.

"do you want me to continue?" you asked. after all, consent is hot. he squinted his eyes a bit, and scoffed.

"are you seriously asking me that?" he asked, sassily.

"yes, i am. do you want me to continue?"

"wha-yes! yes of course i want you to continue! please."

"that's all you had to say, love," you said, with a small laugh, before you began to unbuckle his belt. you then unbuttoned his jeans. he pulled them down, and you lifted your hips so he could get them off. you discarded the jeans to go along with his jumper. he was left only in his neon orange boxers. they were bold, they were very...him.

"interesting choice of boxers," you teased, with a chuckle.

"oh don't bully me," he replied, dramatically with an eye roll. nonetheless, there was an uncontrollable smile on his face.

"i like them, i do. they are definitely something you would pick." you both shared a laugh, before you kissed him once again. you smiled against his lips when he pulled away to say something.

"god, can't you just fuck me already? with all of this love and kissing you're making me feel so...i don't know," he protested, a prisoner to your stare.

"i wanted to take my time with you." he gulped, cheeks burning. he felt showered in love by you.

"i don't think i could love you anymore."

"likewise." you said, as you continued kissing his neck. your hand snuck its way into his boxers. your forefinger circled his tip. he whimpered, softly, but still audibly. he was growing harder by the second.

"you're such a tease," he said, breathily. you grinned as your finger traced up and down his length. you put him out of his torture, and finally form a circle with your fingers, properly stroking him.

"oh fuck," he whines, as he locks eyes with you. you smile softly at the sight of him, writhing and whining and moaning underneath you.

"you're such a good boy, farleigh," you say, quietly. he whines even louder, he didn't think he could handle it--he was gonna faint. you were being so kind, and he didn't even know how to handle it.

"i-i oh, oh my god," he moans.

"you're doing so well, angel," you praise, before enveloping him in yet another kiss, swallowing all of the sounds he let out. your pace sped up, your thumb rubbing the tip of his cock gently. he let his mouth fall slack, brows knitting together.

"s-shit please," he moaned. goodness, he wasn't even sure what he was begging for at that point.

"i love you so much, sweet boy," you kissed his forehead. he looked up at you, big doe eyes clouded and hazy with pleasure.

"l-love you too," he barely managed to mumble out. he whines as your hand twists and teases his length. "fuck, y/n, think m'gonna come."

"come whenever you want to, my love," you responded, admiring him as he breathed more heavily. soon enough, he stayed true to his word, cumming. he felt utter euphoria wash over him, as his mouth fell impossibly more open in a silent moan. you rode out his high, slowing down your pumps. he could hardly breathe, but there was a content smile on his lips.

"you did so good f'me, farleigh," you said, before pecking lips softly. "now do you believe i love you more than life?" there was a beat of silence as he tried to catch his breath, he smirked a bit.

"i don't know, you might have to prove it to me again."

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐤𝐲𝐚-𝐢𝐬-𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐥

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲? 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

#dom!reader #smut #dom reader #saltburn #farleigh start #farleigh x reader #farleigh saltburn #farleigh smut #soft dom reader #sappy

119 notes · View notes

bubbles-for-all-of-us · 6 months

Note

Also I'm sorry my mind is Lorcan mush right now 😂 but like him baking with his soft SO? Like she made him his own apron and it's fall so there's a slight chill, she had flour smeared on her cheek and he's chuckling as she shows him how to properly roll put a pie crust because he messed up the first one

Managed to type this out before my body completely gave out. Been a long minute..

warning: slightly suggestive

Pie crusts

This man aka Lorcan was far from sweet in others' eyes. They crossed the street when he walked through the town. They never stared. Never struck a conversation. These were the basic rules. You just didn't. Because this man had a reputation. Had a name to him. And it made one shiver. Made you take a double look just to make sure that you haven't caused yourself trouble. Haven't ended up in a bad book. Because Lorcan had that predatory attitude. That cold-blooded killer look. One that drowned out any happy sounds around.

But if they only knew. If they only knew what kind of male hid away behind the cold mask. What kind of male he was when no one but you were watching? His beautiful, selfless, radiant mate. His life. His pride. His joy. You had Lorcan wrapped around your finger and people who got to see that, that mainly being the family, knew that Lorcan was nothing but a big gentle giant. One that would drop everything if a planted pot in your yard needed to be moved. One that stocked up your hygiene supplies every month because he knew that you would forget about it. One that did nothing but smile when he was in your presence.

"No, you need to put more flour on it", you pointed to the jar, watching the dough sticking to the rolling pin. Rolling pin that looked ridiculously tiny in Lorcan's hands. "You said to dust it once", he rumbled, yet still reached for it. "Yeah, but you probably put too much butter in it, so it's sticky", you said, turning to reach for the bottom layer. A tin filled with a berry jam you bad made first thing in the morning.

Lorcan let out a slight growl as he tried to roll the dough again, only to be met with the same sticky mess. "You can't scare the pie out, Lor", you chuckled slightly. Sometimes you wondered why he even agreed to participate in things like this. He had little to no patience yet if he saw you doing anything by yourself he never failed to ask if you wanted him to join you. Or he would simply join himself without saying a single word.

But pie making and Lorcan had a deep-rooted beef going for a couple of months. That was Lorcan's first attempt at making the pie crust. It had gone awfully bad and nothing usually went bad for Lorcan. This man was way too competitive. Way too sure of his abilities to fail at something. You had laughed till your stomach asked back then. Watching him scowling at the dough, your tiny apron barely covering his chest.

Now Lorcan had his apron on. Once you had made for him. One he had been strangely excited to receive. "Stan up for a minute", you had told him one evening while he was finishing his paperwork. Lorcan had given you a strange look but didn't question it. Especially when he saw the messing tape in your hands. "You know, my cock hasn't changed size", he cackled to himself while you hit his chest shaking your head, "You're disgusting, put your hand up, you brute". That had him cackling, while you tried to hide your smile. You had sowed him his apron that same night. Had chosen a much more dim color, no pastels but Lorcan had frowned as he looked at it. "I don't get to have a pocket with a flower?", he questioned, glancing at your apron that hung in the kitchen. "Oh, I... I didn't think you would want one", you admitted, reaching for a deep red thread but Lorcan beat you to it, "Make it pink and blue, like yours".

You smiled at the memory as you moved to stand beside him now. "Add some more flour and knead it through once more", Lorcan simply nodded his head, following your instructions. You reached to rub the back of his neck as he worked. You would have loved to run your fingers through his hair but it was put up in a messy bun, the baby blue scrunchy shining against his onyx-black hair. "You're doing great, honey", you said softly, watching him reform the dough back into a misshapen ball. "Usually, I'm the one praising you. This is new", he grumbled but his attention was full on the backed good he was desperate to craft perfectly.

You let out a light laugh, "You're making it sound as if I never tell you just how amazing you are", you scrunched up your nose and that was enough for Lorcan to lift his head to look at you. Any, even the smallest feeling of hurt or discomfort coming from your side crippled the dark wielded. "You do, you do...", his words died down as his eyes fell on your face. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?", you tilted your head to the side. "You have...", Lorcan's voice died down, "Let me get it for you", he said softly, fingers moving to brush over the tip of your nose, whipping away the flour. His touch lingered, moving to brush over your cheek next. "And something here", he muttered, before leaning in to softly kiss your lips. No rush. No eagerness. No need to rush as Lorcan softly kissed you over and over again.

"Smooth", you mumbled as you two finally broke apart. You turned your attention back to your mate, "You took your time with my lips. Must have been real dirty", you trialed off, and turned to check on the oven. Instantly feeling Lorcan's hands slipping around your middle, "They are dirty, especially when they are wrapped...", you elbowed him in the stomach, "Don't you finish that! You dirty, teenage fea baby...", Lorcan only laughed, smirking down at you. "Go finish the crust or you will die defeated by the pie", you pointed to the forgotten dough, ushering him away with a tea towel. Smiling to yourself when another laugh slipped past Lorcan's lips and the smooth sound of him humming filled the kitchen.

#lorcan lochan salvatorre #lorcan x reader #lorcan salvaterre x reader #lorcan salvaterre imagine #lorcan tog #lorcan imagine #lorcan tog imagine #lorcan tog x reader #tog x reader #tog x you #tog imagine

92 notes · View notes

tawaifeddiediaz · 1 year

Note

Hey, I love how you did the B/W strip + the text effect on your margaret atwood set, would you be willing to do a tutorial? 🙈

Hey Nonnie, thank you! Sorry this is a little late, but I did manage to hang onto this PSD for you.

We'll be making this gif:

This tutorial assumes basic knowledge of gif-making, Photoshop, and coloring. I’ve only described the text tutorial in this, but you can reach out if you have any questions.

(This is a different version of my gradient text tutorial, but the same principle applies!)

Tutorial under the cut:

Couple things to note beforehand:

There is a lot of trial and error involved when doing any sort of effect, and this is no exception! You might have to play around with the colors and the settings before you find something that looks good and readable and that fits your set!

This text effect works better on big gifs (540px width) that have quite a bit of movement below the shape so you get that effect.

For this effect, I find that a simple font works better than a cursive one, but play around with what you like.

We're going to start with this gif:

First, I'm going to add my text and center it. For this text, I used the font, Solar vesta Serif, with these settings:

Note: when you do letter spacing + underline, sometimes, the space after the last letter can lead the underline to stretch a little too far past the letter, making it look like the underline isn't centered properly.

To get past this, I just select the last letter separately, and put the VA setting to 0-10, depending on the font/letter.

We're also going to add a drop shadow here itself, and this is fully up to preference, but I used this:

All of that should give us this (yeah, it's the simplest thing because I'm lazy and I like easy things xD nothing too fancy)

Next, we're going to draw our rectangle around the letters. I like to keep even spacing around all the letters on all sides (in this gif, it's 4px on all sides) but just eyeball it initially, and then adjust accordingly.

I changed the fill to white (this color isn't important, I just used white because it's easier to show) and moved the layer in the back so the text is on top. It should all look like this:

Next, we're going to add a gradient map between the rectangle and the text later. I simply used a black and white gradient, and my gif now looks like this:

Here are the settings:

Next, we're going to delete that white box - the layer mask - next to the gradient map. Just click that and press delete (or right-click > delete layer mask). Your layers should look like this:

Now, we're going to add the rectangle as a layer mask. While pressing Ctrl, we’re going to hover our mouse over the square box next to Rectangle 1. Your cursor should show a white box with a dotted border. Click the square box with that dotted cursor and you should get a dotted selection line all around the box, like so:

Next, we're going to select our gradient map layer, and then create a new layer mask. At the bottom of the layers panel, you should see a box with a circle in it (denoted with a red arrow). Click that - make sure you have your gradient map layer selected, or you'll end up putting the mask on the wrong layer.

The black and white will disappear, leaving you with just the box again. It'll look like this:

Now, just hide the rectangle layer so it looks like this;

And you're done! This is my final gif:

Once you get this basic thing down, you can play around with it all. For example, I like to adjust my gradient sliders so they emphasize the colors:

You can also just change the colors;

Unlike my previous text effect, we're not going for inverse X-ray effect, so for this, I like to make sure the lighter shade of the gradient is on the lighter parts of the gif, and same with the dark shade.

(If that's confusing, here's a side by side comparison of what the "X-ray" effect vs normal color effect looks like)

Anyway - it's fully up to you!

Because of the effect I was going for, I didn't add a drop shadow underneath the rectangle itself, but you always can if you want to make that a little bit more 3D.

You can also do this with any other shapes, too, with the same procedure.

Hope this helps, Nonnie! Let me know if you have any questions.

168 notes · View notes

streaminn · 11 months

Note

(Decided to write some fluff after all the angst :) have these dorks using their fruit trees to their advantage! Also, this is set in the streamer Enid au.)

"Do'ya think you could... not?"

"You wanted this," Wednesday says, stepping just slightly harder on Enid's shoulders. "You need to learn to deal with the consequences of your actions, Dear."

"Willaaaaaa..."

"Got it." Wednesday calls, "you can put me down now."

Enid considers just leaning back and letting her fall, but not only is she a human, breakable and frail, she's also carrying all their gathered fruits.

If she made Wednesday spill them, she would be sleeping on the couch for a while.

She lowers herself so Wednesday can hop off, back onto the soild ground.

"Okay," the tiny woman adorable holding the basket on her arm like a purse. The basket hangs low on Enid's arm, the gap from the basket itself to the handle is mostly filled by the bulk of her muscles.

But Wednesday is tiny.

The bottom of the basket almost lines up with the goth's knees.

"That's enough apples, citrus fruits, and grapes for a while." Wednesday sets the basket down carefully, taking care to not drop the grapes.

"Why can't we just pay someone to get them for us? We have the money..." Enid doesn't whine.

Enid doesn't whine.

She didn't.

"Stop whining," Wednesday blunts, "you're the one who wanted to grow and pick our own goods. Something, something... farmcore?"

"Yeah!" Enid cheers. Sticks her arms up. "We're farmcore lesbians!"

"Why are you whining if it's a good thing, then?"

Enid's face and arms drop right as the pass the entrance of the apple tree section. Wednesday insisted that they mark everything properly, but it hardly helps when Enid chased after squirrels and domestic dogs.

"'Cause that was before I knew I'd work in the burning sun with a gothic lesbian on my shoulders!" Enid huffs. Crosses her arms. She doesn't pout. She doesn't.

Their almost at the door to their house now.

It's their home.

Wednesday smiles, if only barely.

"First off, the sun is not burning, it's autumn, and the sun has almost completely set."

Wednesday motions for Enid to open the door, her arms full of baskets.

"Second off," she steps in after the werewolf does a dorky bow, murmuring a low 'ladies first,' "I'm 5'1 and 110 pounds. I regularly see you lift 230, if not more-"

"Yeah, but 230 pounds of weights don't dig boot heels into my shoulders!"

"-and thirdly," she continues, ignoring her wife's complaints "I'm Enidsexual, not a lesbian."

"Awww, Willa!" Enid makes a show of wiping tears away.

Her finger move away from her eyes completely dry.

"You do love me!"

"Of course I love you, you wouldn't be alive if I didn't."

Enid giggles as Wednesday sets the baskets down in the kitchen. The counter has paint marks from when Enid tried and horrifically failed to make a pretty colored glass jar.

Wednesday uses the jar to store spices. It's her favorite.

She pre-heats the oven. 350.

She grabs a knife, a cutting board, sets them down. Enid's gone upstairs to tie her hair back. She washes the apples first, set on peeling them.

Just as she sets the first apple down, a bowl next to her, she hears quick footsteps desend from the stairs.

"Willa, Willa look- look!"

Wednesday huffs, sets the apple and knife, and walks into the living room.

Enid's standing in the middle of the room, grinning.

"What is it?"

Enid points at the mirror.

("So you can see yourself and how fine you are!" Enid giggled, displaying the reflective glass. The top half of the frame is hot pink, the bottom jet black.

Wednesday sometimes uses it to makes sure she's presentable before she leaves.

She uses it mostly to steal looks at Enid before the werewolf notices.

She usually gets caught.)

"It's a mirror."

"I- yeah!" Enid's grin turns teasing, "that is a mirror." She babytalks. "Good job, Wendy!"

"Call me "Wendy" again, and you'll be turned into a square burger patty."

Wednesday crosses her arms but still gets next to Enid, looking in the mirror.

"Look." They stand side by side.

Enid's a good head and then some taller than Wednesday. It used to embarrass her, back in Nevermore. Having to ask the roommate she had an infatuation with to get a book from the too-high shelf was a different level of embarrassment.

"Me," Enid points at herself in the mirror. Her hair is tied back, showing off her scars. Bright eyes.

Wednesday would die for her.

Enid's finger moves to point at Wednesday's reflection.

"And the bad bitch I pulled by being silly and goofy and whimsical."

She supposes Enid is willing to die because of her, saying imbecilic things like that.

"I want a divorce." Wednesday walks back into the kitchen, arms still crossed.

"No, you- no you don't!" Enid jogs after her, she gets into the kitchen right as Wednesday grabs her knife and apple again.

"You could never find someone with this much whimsy! Or a face this cute!"

"Hmm. Are you implying I only married you for your face, Sinclair?"

"Woah," Enid puts her hands put like theres a gun pointed at her. "Bringing out the old last names? Cold-hearted, Addams!"

"You knew you were marrying a cold-blooded woman, Honey. Now, quit messing around and help get the fruit prepped."

"This environment doesn't have enough enrichment for me," Enid pouts, grabbing another cutting board and knife.

"How am I supposed to live, laugh, love in these conditions?"

"Quiet."

They sit in a comfortable silence. Enid washes and peels the apples, hands them to Wednesday, Wednesday cuts them into slice, then sits them in a pan.

She adds water, sugar, cinnamon. She sets it to medium and stirs.

She stirs random patterns.

A figure-8.

A circle.

An x.

A W.

A plus.

An E.

"Here," there's a hand in her peripheral-vision. "Let me. I like stirring things." Enid smiles softly, takes the wooded spoon from her hands.

"And what do you suggest I do? Twiddle my thumbs?"

"Hmmm," Enid stares into the mixture in the pan. She stirs. "You could sit on the chair and look pretty. Looking at your lovely face would be much better than looking at this."

"Are you saying my creations aren't gorgeous enough to blind you?"

"Look," Enid sets ths spoon aside and grabs a lid. She sets it on the pan, "all I'm saying is- you're not the only who married purely for looks."

"Huh."

They have a staring contest. Enid's never been good at holding her eyes open.

She loses.

"You can start working on the pie dough? I'll go start the fireplace."

Wednesday nods once, grabs what she needs from the closet, and starts on the dough.

This is her life. She lives with her wife, in their house, on their land.

She works on the dough, kneading it while she hears Enid grab logs from the basket they sit in.

Despite their fake bicker and faker upset, she pokes her head past the wall of the kitchen to sneak a peek at Enid.

Her heart catches in her throat when, not only is Enid staring right at her, but Enid is flexing her arms.

"Like what you see?" She teases

"Idiot," she turns back to the dough, hiding her blush. "You are so dumb."

"And yet you love me!" Enid calls back. She can hear Enid place a log into the fireplace. Another. Then another. A fourth. One more log, than she hears Enid grab the lighter.

She hears Enid swear when it doesn't start.

"Willlaaaaaa..."

"Bring it here."

Enid enters the kitchen blushing, and hands Wednesday the lighter with a pathetically pitiful downcast face.

Wednesday lights it on her first try.

"'S'not fair." She hands Enid the lit lighter.

She sets the most of the dough in the pie tin, grabs the filling, and pours most in. She pours the rest in jar, seals it and puts it in the refrigerator.

"I got the fire goin'!"

"Good." Wednesday sets the rest of the dough over the top, cuts line into it for ventilation, than sets it carefully into the hot oven. "Mind getting hot water for tea and coffee ready?"

"Sure!" Enid prances into the kitchen, grabs a kettle and fills it with water.

She sets it on the stove and starts it.

Wednesday washes her hands and nails free of bits of dough and flour and apple and orange and lemon peels.

She's cooking. In their home.

She turns and sees her wife's back to her. She loves this woman.

"Hey, can we watch that new K-drama episode? Yoko got to watch it earlier and if she spoils it I'll-" Enid turns her entire body to face Wednesday and when she does, Wednesday bruies her face in Enid's chest. Hugs her.

"Oh!"

Enid stays stiff for a moment, schocked, and carefully, slowly wraps her arms around the smaller.

"I love the affection," Enid starts, "but you don't usually start the lovin'. Somethin' wrong?"

"I love you. It just... smacked me. How much love I hold in my heart for you."

Enid smiles softly and warmly, Wednesday wonders if she somehow stole the essence of the fire burning in their home and stuck it in her face.

Enid kisses the top of her head.

"Love you too, babycakes."

They sit for a moment. Holding each other.

"The water's ready."

"Good." Wednesday pulls from the hug and turns the stone off. "Get our mugs?"

"'Course, Wednesday."

Enid grabs their mugs from the high shelf, she places them down gingerly.

"I'll be right back."

"Alright."

Wednesday leaves the kitchen and climbs the stairs, entering their shared bedroom.

She goes to the bottom shelf of her dresser (they needed separate ones, she loves Enid but if she has to see a bright yellow dress that says house on it next to her black dress-shirts she'll kill someone.) and grabs the fabrics she came for. She sticks them in her hoodie pockets.

When she gets back down stairs, Enid's all wrapped in a big blanket, her mug in her hands, Wednesday's on the ground next to her. It's big enough to cover their couch 3 timss over.

They use it strictly for cuddles.

Enid's stupid mug that Wednesday got her that she swears is the only one she'll use till she's dead has a chip in the handle. She dropped it and it broke and Ajax, bless him, offered to fix it.

There never found the missing piece.

Wednesday got her mug from Enid. A soild black mug that fits just right in her hands. It has a color changing sun on both sides. It's heat activated.

There's a black coffee in her mug, and Enid's has her apple-citrus tea.

"I'm going to check on the pie."

"Okay."

It's done when Wednesday opens the door. She pulls it out, and sets it to cool.

"It's done, Darling."

"Yay!"

Wednesday walks into the living room, and sits on the floor, grabs her mug, and cocoons herself. She presses into her human-heater.

She's warm.

"Why'd you go upstairs a minute ago?"

"Oh." She swallows. "These."

She reaches into her hoodie pockets and pulls out the clothing.

Enid gasps and puts her hands over her mouth.

"Our snoods!" She grabs hers carefully and puts it on swiftly. "I thought we lost these."

"I hid them. I meant to throw them away but they mean a lot to you and-"

"So they mean just as much to you?" Enid grins at her.

Clever little shit.

"... Yes. I wanted to throw them but i thought about how that would make you feel. I couldn't show you that I-" she fakes a shudder "-love you. If someone saw me wearing this I'd think I mellowed out."

"You have mellowed out." Enid takes her hands tenderly. "For me."

Wednesday blushes and stares intensely at her tea.

"I have a reputation."

Enid grins. Sharp toothed.

"I think the pies cooled."

"Get it yourself, traitor."

"Fine, fine. Guess you'll just be cold and alone in these blankets then."

"Guess I will."

Enid gets two plates down from the cupboard. A knife from the drawer. She pushes it closed with a hip press. She cuts two slices, one for herself and one for Wednesday.

Wednesday's piece totally isn't ever so slightly smaller. Nuh-uh.

She returns to the living room carrying their food.

"Ta-da!"

It's only once they're both situated on the floor, warmed from each other and the fireplace and the blanket does Wednesday speak.

"Enid?

"Yeah?"

"Where are the forks."

Enid looks at her plate. Then at Wednesday's.

"Fuck."

"I'll get them."

"Noooooo," Enid wraps her arm around her love, "I'm cozy!"

"I'm not dealing with sticky fingers," the shorter speaks. "A few seconds without me or no pie?"

"..."

"Be quick."

She pats her wife's shoulder mockingly. "That's what I thought."

It's only once the moon just barely rises do they call it a night.

The pie has been eaten, they enjoyed their drinks, they watched Enid's K-drama so Yoko couldn't spoil it.

They're in bed.

Wednesday let her hair down. Enid plays with it, braiding and unbraiding it endlessly.

"Enid?"

"Yes my sweet, darling Willa?"

"I... I love you. I love you and I fear sometimes I don't say it enough."

Enid grabs her by the shoulder and flips her over. It's fast and makes her neck creak uncomfortably.

"You say it plenty. You could say it once a month and it'd be enough. You sh- you love through actions more than words." Enid laughs softly. "Ironic for such a writer."

"I like saying it more than once a month."

"I like hearing it more than once a month."

A kiss.

"And love you just as much, my Raven."

"Goodnight, Enid."

"Goodnight, Willa."

THE THINGS WENCLAIR DOES TO ME MAN, OMLLLL. ITS SO GOOD WRITER ANON, TY AGAINNNN

im currently in a dnd session so im kinda too busy to write BUT, have this lil snippet

"ya'know what i realized, willa?" Enid murmurs to the dark.

Wednesday doesn't shift, but she keeps talking anyway.

"I think i'm the villager and you're the farmer in stardew valley."

Finally, that got a reaction.

"what?" Enid gives herself a mental pat to the back. Win to her for being able to make her one and lovely Wednesday sound shocked. Heh, adorable.

"it makes sense!" she continues. "you come into the farm, you give me gifts and we're married. Sounds like a regular run, no?"

Wednesday shifts, turning to Enid with a confused and lightly said What.

"what are you talking about?" she wonders and Enid gives a light kiss to her wife's forehead before snuggling under the sheets and closing her eyes.

"Enid?" wednesday asks.

"enid??"

#streamer enid au #wenclair #writing #writer anon #ANOTHER MASTERPIECE

106 notes · View notes

anashins · 1 year

Note

hii not sure if you’re still taking requests but if you are can you do a jaehyun fic with this :)

Pairing: Jaehyun x Reader

Genre: fluff, suggestive ending

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: Having his day off fall on the same date as his birthday and Valentine's Day, Jaehyun has set high expectations for himself - and he fails nearly all of them.

A/N: His bday is not over yet in our western time zones, so yay, the request fitted perfectly! Thank you, I hope you like it 💗

“How’s the spaghetti?”

“Good!”

In all honesty, which you kept a secret from Jaehyun though, they were crushing between your teeth and simultaneously melting in your mouth when you were biting on them. But you didn’t have the heart to tell him.

Somehow, your boyfriend was still able to look through your facade despite your efforts, the corners of his mouth now tilting downwards in disappointment over his lack of success in putting together a three course meal. “Yeah, somehow, the water wouldn’t cook properly. I was in a hurry and couldn’t wait long enough.”

“But the sauce is delicious!” you tried to save the situation.

Jaehyun’s face turned even more sour than it had already been. “That’s the only thing I didn’t make myself, but I bought it.”

“Oh.”

“It’s okay, just finish the parts of the spaghetti that are overcooked and then we’ll get stuffed with créme brûlée. At least that I will go smoothly.”

“Créme brûlée?” you asked. “You’re gonna make it yourself?”

“Of course.” Jaehyun’s disappointed expression got replaced with a smug grin when he folded his arms in front of his chest and boasted, “I found a recipe in which there are no fresh vanilla beans needed, ready in only ten minutes!”

You genuinely tried to hide your surprised expression, and this time your boyfriend didn’t notice, but started gathering your plates to return them to the kitchen. You doubted the recipe for this usual complicated dessert that normally took one hour would meet the high expectations he had set for today, but hey, you were open for surprises anyway!

Jaehyun insisted you waited in the living room, and so you did despite all your protests as you wanted to help him. Your gaze fell upon the red rose petals that were spread all over the coffee table and two champagne glasses in the middle of it that were not filled yet.

“Everything okay in there?” you called in the direction of the kitchen when you heard ceramics clashing.

“Yeah, don’t worry!” your boyfriend responded, a bit agitated as you took away from the tone in his voice. “Just stay there and select the music already if you like! I wanted to make this day perfect for you, and I will!”

You were asking yourself whether Jaehyun was putting too much pressure and unachievable expectations on himself. It was true that you were usually the one planning dates since he was oftentimes too busy for that, but today was his birthday, Valentine’s Day and his first day off in weeks on top of that.

You tip-toed to the kitchen door when you heard it rattle again, followed by a stressed groan from Jaehyun himself and the sentence, “This tastes the worst!”

The next moment, you were standing close to him, watching your boyfriend putting something together that didn’t look like créme brûlée even from a mile afar. It was too watery and of a color that more resembled caramel pudding.

“I wanted to make this day special for you,” he admitted, his eyes fixated on the mess in front of him, not minding having you around now as he seemed to have eventually given up on everything. “I even oversalted the salad. Who does that even happen to?”

You nudged Jaehyun’s side. “Someone who’s overworked and should use his day off, that’s also his birthday, to actually relax and not put high expectations on himself to spoil his girlfriend, no matter how much he really wants to.”

He let out a long sigh and dropped his head, his fingers clutching onto the edge of the counter. “I’m tired. I really wanted to, but… I’m just so tired. I’m so sorry. If only I had more time and weren’t so stressed, I’d-”

“Jeong Jaehyun…” You took his hands into yours and gently forced him to shift aside to face you. The tips of your fingers then trailed upwards until you reached the curve of his jaw, placing your palms on either side of his cheeks. “I don’t expect you to do anything for me. I just want you to be happy and healthy, and perhaps even love me every now and then. You think you can do that?”

A slight smile spread across his face. “I can definitely do that.”

Half an hour later, you had perfected the créme brûlee even with the artificial vanilla, and you were devouring it happily with Jaehyun on the couch after having touched glasses to celebrate his special day.

“Okay, I’ll do the dishes,” he then announced and arose. “That’s the least I can do. You wait here! And after that… I’ll do all the work in something I’m always in peak form for.”

With a chuckle, you turned around on time to catch a glimpse of your boyfriend winking before he disappeared in the kitchen with the empty plates and glasses. You weren’t able to endure it in the living room all by yourself for too long though.

“What are you doing?” Jaehyun then laughed when he felt you embracing him around his middle from behind while his hands were full with foam up to his elbows and also in the sink.

“Don’t mind me,” you told him, pressing your face into his back and closing your eyes. “I just want to thank you that you were setting all this up today, because you thought I deserved this. It’s your special day too, you know.”

“You absolutely deserve this! One day is just not enough as we have so much to celebrate, I just wish I was able to do more. So I’m cleaning now as well and you can relax. But you have to let me go for that.”

You shook your head which he felt through the fabric of his shirt. “That’s a no from me.”

Jaehyun chuckled. “So I’m supposed to finish cleaning with a spider monkey?”

“Yes!”

“Okay… but… hey! What are your hands doing there?”

Your fingers had slipped past the hem and disappeared under his clothing, tracing the defined outline of his abs. “You cook and clean, so I touch your abs.” You shrugged. “That’s my take on saying thank you.”

“I don’t think it works this way.”

“Why not?”

Jaehyun’s breathing halted, and it took him great composure to express the following, “If I were you, I would put my hands away right now, because otherwise the kitchen won’t see much cleaning anymore today. Perhaps, even until tomorrow.”

“Well.” Your fingers stilled, but then dropped to the lower part of his abdomen. “I think the kitchen can wait.”

#jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun x you #jaehyun x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x you #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 x you #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #requests

269 notes · View notes

heartofspells · 4 months

Text

This Way We Fall

"Moony calls you Padfoot."

It's not what Sirius expects his godson to say, and he startles a little, his hand skittering, the red line of antlers he'd been curving upwards going wide and stuttering haptically. Two and a half weeks is how long it's taken for Sirius to be allowed into the inner sanctum, granted the holiest of privileges: crayons.

They're kneeling on the front stoop, the door closed in front of them, all previous drawings cleared away to make way for new ones. All except one, the black dog still in place, off to the side, animation charms steadily failing, but its tail gives a weak flutter periodically, stubborn and refusing to die just yet. After his breakfast that morning, Harry had stated it was time. Time for new pictures to replace the old, because the old ones were boring, Moony, and our door is boring, too. And Sirius had been expected to help. Demanded, really, not that he's complaining.

Studying the mess made of his antlers, Sirius is slow to pull his wand, clearing it away to start anew. He thinks there might be a metaphor in there somewhere, but he can't quite grasp it in the jumbled chaos now filling his head.

"Does he?" asks Sirius measuredly, not looking at Harry as he cleans away the red trails.

It's a name he hasn't heard in years, not from anyone. More than five, to be exact, and it pulls at something inside Sirius to hear again now, coming from a mouth that hadn't ever truly managed to form it properly the last time it had tried.

"Sometimes," says Harry, tongue peeking between his teeth as he puts the finishing touches on what Sirius thinks might be a mouse, though he can't be entirely certain. He's never seen a mouse quite that colorful before. Sirius thinks he might make the colors dance once they're finished. "But he never says it to you. Only when he's talking 'bout you."

Humming minutely, Sirius glances over his shoulder to where Remus is seated in the Adirondack chair in the grass. He's reclined back, head and face tilted towards the sky, legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, eyes closed. He hasn't reacted to anything said, but Sirius knows the other man is listening because he always is, always near enough to catch every word, to intervene in any and everything he sees fit, though he never does, at least not yet.

"You call him Moony," continues Harry, and he's looking at Sirius now, large green eyes curious where they glint behind the lenses of his glasses, Sirius watching them slip down his nose. Sirius reaches out and pushes them back up, an instinct, a long-forgotten habit but not actually forgotten at all, it seems. "All the time."

"I call him Moony because you call him Moony," explains Sirius, not entirely sure what else to say, turning his gaze back to the door.

Harry is quiet for a minute, rolling a purple crayon between his fingers thoughtfully as Sirius scribbles out his own design, just for something to do.

"Did you used to call him Moony?" he asks finally, head tipping so far to the side that Sirius worries for a second it might twist off his neck and clunk to the concrete below. "Before me?"

Sirius drops his hand from the door, slow to respond before saying quietly, "Did, yeah. A lot. All the time."

"Why?"

"I made it up. I gave him the nickname. Seemed only right that I use it."

"Padfoot's your name?"

Swallowing, eyes dropping to his knees before flickering to Harry, Sirius nods. "It was, a long time ago."

"Who gave it to you?"

"It – " Sirius stops, gaze jumping to the drawings on the door, something sharp stabbing into his heart, like longing, like absence and grief and the need to touch what's never coming back again, eyes drifting to the antlers, tracing their shape, familiar like the hazy outlines made by clouds, memories too distant to fully recall clearly any longer. "Your dad gave me the name. It was his idea. Padfoot. He thought it was funny. He always found things funny that most others didn't."

Harry stares up at him for a minute, and then he exhales a breath, heavy for a six-year-old, so very heavy but somehow lighter than Sirius thinks anything in this moment should be.

"That's nice," is all he says, leaning forward to collect the crayon from Sirius' slack fingers, beginning to push the colors back into the box. "Can you make them move now?" he asks eagerly, eyes bright as he looks up at Sirius again.

When the drawings are animated once more, they watch them flutter and skitter and hobble across the wood of the painted door, Harry happy and excited from the sight. Sirius thinks he could stay this way forever, or at least a very long time, days and months, years and decades, if only given the chance, but Harry suddenly stands beside him, clutching his box of crayons protectively to his chest, like to lose them would be to lose the dearest of friends.

"Gotta take them inside 'cause they melt," informs his godson knowingly, and Sirius watches as he pushes the door open, disappearing inside as it closes in front of his face again.

Read on AO3

Gorgeous art by @drunkdumbfucker <3

#this way we fall #big bang fic #wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #harry potter #snippet #my writing #holli writes

22 notes · View notes

taikk0 · 2 years

Text

old art dump!?1!11?!! [part 1]

yeah I really wanted to post these at some point but they're so fcuking ugly they don't deserve to be posted out in the open for all to see 💀💀

like if I were to ever post these one by one I think my dignity would take a huge blow, and that's coming from someone with a massive crater in their chest where their ribcage once was because all their self-respect got absolutely THWACKED out of their body the moment they started simping for the krang. SPOILER ALERT I'm that someone

anyways they're all under the cut peer at your own risk

I know I already posted this here on my improvement post but fun fact: this was the very first fanart I made this year getting back into Rise

also yes there will be commentary, I will always feel the need to explain myself when it comes to things I would greatly want to apologize for 🧍‍‍♂️

WHY DID I DRAW THEM SO HORRIBLY DEFORMED WHO DROPPED THEM RAPH OVER HERE LOOKING LIKE MEGAMIND AND LEOS BUILT LIKE A PIATTOS CHIP

I literally do not remember the context of this at all. not sure if it was a continuation of something, but if it was I can't find the rest of it

don't know how to draw the turtles???? MEME REDRAW BABY

character development is finally realizing Mikey isn't a literal circle lIKE????? WHY IS HE SO BOILED EGG

this was also in my "I have no idea how to properly color" phase, which explains why it's so monotonous compared to the colors I tend to choose now. Everything just looks so murky.... like dirty paint water.....

the mystic door symbol thing doesn't mean anything, I think past Michael just wanted to fill in the space

mikyomix name reveal real?? jk it's always been out, I just haven't mentioned it here, anywho yes hi it's me a Michael

might redraw this soon actually, who knows

this was the very first time I ever actually drew Donnie right, where he didn't make me nauseous just by looking at him, and IT WAS FROM THIS WEIRD SPECIFIC ANGLE FROM SOME REASON. If I ever drew him in a way that looked good it was almost always THIS angle, especially in doodles, it was never ever Donnie actually facing front, it was just him with this weird slouch and his back turned slightly.

am I using too many of whatever "," is, listen I almost flunked English I can't punctuate for crud but I'm trying my best over here ok

(side note: the file name is called "dunkin donuts"???)

this was never supposed to see the light of day, but I think this would be considered fanart of a fanart?? I saw taytei 's species swap au on pinterest before I knew who they were and decided "yk what?? yeah I'll steal it but only for me because I'm bored"

which brings me to the next few drawings

LOOKING AT THESE SENT SHIVERS DOWN MY SPINE AND MY DINNER UP MY THROAT I DON'T LIKE THEM

we're moving on I don't like looking at these they're gross 💀

I made a joke about Donnie giving Leo his own tablet because he kept stealing it based on a very old drawing back in 2019 and it led to the idea of Leo turning into an Ipad kid, crusty screen and Ipad case in all its glory

if it wasn't obvious the background is a png of McDonald's because of course they're at McDonald's

ok, this is gonna sound so stereotypically ADHD of me but listen it makes sense lemme explain

so basically, I had a silly thought in my head that I've had for a long while about Donnie being British for no reason with no explanation as to why, it's not a headcanon it's just a funny thought I like to think about (so maybe it's an AU idk)

and I was binging Jack Whitehall (who was British) and it got to the part where he went on a schpiel on Robert Pattinson where he was talking about what it was like to go to school with him and there was this one section where he talks about being in school theatre with him.

and I thought.... "man wouldn't it be funny if that was the disaster twins..." and everything spiraled from there.

I made up this whole Yokai school they would have gone to if they didn't live in the sewers. Donnie is the head of the drama club, he always plays and casts himself as the main character in his own productions that he himself directs because he's just that good at his job. Leo joins the drama club and shows Donnie up, making him a little bit jealous. Leo is only let in because of the club members vouching for him, Which then leads to Donnie treating him poorly and casting him as a tree (SEE WERE COMING FULL CIRCLE) this obviously upsets Leo and ends up giving him more of a reason to become the center of attention, What was supposed to be a drag ended up helping Leo more than harming his chances of ruining Donnie's plans.

Everything then spirals into a competitive back and forth as to who is the better actor. It stops being about who gets to play which part and more about who comes out of this feud alive with a prestigious acting role tied to their name.

That was everything I thought about at the time though I just thought "HAHA DISASTER TWINS HIJINX" and that was it

someone send me that Donnie toy with the big head and maybe I will start writing fanfiction/JJJJJ

I had this idea of Donnie adopting a dog from Todd because it had an attitude and then the dog ended up being just as smart as him helping him solve equations and stuff and eventually it became his lab partner

yeah that paired up with the RotTMNT drama club thing I sound like I have a very weird brain we're moving on

I have to admit this because I really didn't wanna post this without a heads up but yes this is inspired by that one drawing made by h*bermen right before I even knew about what they did and I feel guilty about this one sometimes just by the sheer fact that it's even loosely associated to them :/

I have nothing to say about this one other than I suck at rendering

this drawing of the boys fighting over their childhood blankie was supposed to be a bit of a concept for a comic I wanted to make but never got around to even writing it out,

the gist of it was that the lair was starting to get a bit messy with the things they've hoarded over the last couple of years, so the turtles+splinter decided to clean everything up, managing what to throw away and what to keep

they come across a blanket that they used to have as kids (which was the same blanket from the flashback in hidden city's most wanted) The individual turtles are hesitant at first and decline wanting to keep it, but overtime they start to realize just how much they want their childhood blanket back. They start making excuses and stealing the blanket from one another, insisting that they needed it for something important, which was very much not the case.

soon everything ramps up to the point where their methods of trying to take ownership of the blanket start getting wilder and wilder and hijinx ensues, not long before everyone overtly starts fighting over it like their life depended on it at the climax of the episode.

I didn't really have a plan yet as to how it was going to end, but if I were to make something up on the spot I'd say either:

A.) it's revealed that the blanket was actually splinter's old bath towel that he doesn't use anymore, the turtles are disgusted by this and stop fighting over it. That is until the twist at the end where one of the turtles comes back for it and takes the towel for themselves when no one is around. gross.

B.) Mikey stops the fight before it gets too serious, calling him and his brothers out for acting like savages over a blanket. Soon everyone realizes that the blanket isn't important, the blanket may be of great significance to them, but their memories together will always be more important, and they can't let a simple piece of cloth tear them apart.

and then after everyone else has left and made up, turns out that it was actually Mikey's plan all along to have them stop fighting to keep the blanket for himself.

this is more of a doodle but I had to bring this one up because it's just funny to me

basically, I was drawing Leo and I had two separate layers, I drew Leo photogenically on the layer above with the deranged Leo invisible underneath, and after some time I completely forgot what I drew on the layer below and made it visible again

yeah you can imagine my soul leaving my body

white-eyed Raph freaks me out,,, where did the yellow go,,,,

"I'M SENSITIVE LEO"

this is the only non-turtle drawing in this whole post I think

okay, a bit of a backstory on this one, this was my very first actually finished RotTMNT animation. It was for a trend on TikTok not too long ago where artists would be drawing a character and the character would move to let the artist continue drawing them

This one animation has single-handedly given me so much clout, like holy crap it's literally at 5M views now and it scares me a little 😭😭

for anyone wondering, its this one

YES I AM AWARE OF HOW CRINGE IT IS LEAVE ME ALONE IM NOT THE SAME PERSON I WAS BACK IN MAY

or whatever month it was, I have no idea what 5-5 is supposed to mean I can't read tiktok dates

not rise related but oh my word I absolutely do not have an actual art style 💀

donnie gets trolled

very eyestrainy. this is a WIP screenshot from an animation meme I never finished

I still have the Krita file btw, so maybe one day ill get to show u guys the full soon if I ever get around to finishing it

I have no idea why I formatted this the way I did, but I'm assuming this was most likely a doodle right on top of the animation meme I mentioned earlier and I just didn't bother cropping it

yeah idk why I drew them with really big eyes

he's sleep-deprived and done with everything he's about to go apeshit

also, weird brush

when I tell you guys I was SO READY to see Leo die in the movie before any information on it came out

vine reference in 2022 baby

I'll have you guys know this was completely by accident

Anyways that's as much as I could fit in one post!! I have a bit more but ehhh maybe sometime later

these are all in the order I made them in, which explains why it kind of gets better the more you scroll, so I hope your eyeballs have been cleansed even slightly by the newer ones jfdsjfkI

I have no idea how to end this post uh like and subscribe

#taikko art

99 notes · View notes

weaselle · 2 years

Text

here’s an excerpt from a new thing i’m writing.

X took a deep breath and walked into the super market.

Storefront boredom, hoarded horrors, wars of wares for normal boarders -- stop. Concentrate. X just needed to get... shit, what was it? Coffee. X was out of coffee. The caffeine kick, swift pick up quick, don’t stop in the pit stop licketty-split. And paper towels. Was X just standing in the entryway? How long had X been standing here? Don’t need a cart don’t need a hand basket just here for two things, move. And mouthwash, three things; also could get dinner to avoid cooking: that stovetop magic, love lost tragic, great to create food, rude not acted actually good to do but blast it after the eat creeps dish pile drastic -- c’mon, focus. What aisle was X in? Juice, yeah, got a day and half worth back home might as well, don’t want to be doing this again tomorrow. Damn it, alright, go back for a hand basket.

Coffee got for the coffee pot the allotted stock more than less but less than a lot - a two pound bag. Straight shot to the mouthwash but so much public jumbled like pinball bumpers, so turn down the mostly empty...

... candy aisle? Evil, ah evil, look at the chocolate, largely sourced from plantations utilizing child slaves, so much money pouring in from chocolate companies that while slavery worldwide had dropped dramatically in the last several decades, slave trade in the areas surrounding the chocolate plantations was actually increasing. And here, shelves of chocolate, the labor of children sold into slavery, offered for just the right price in packages requiring designers and machines more costly than the lives bought and sold to work the harvest; can’t sell this bloodied treat in simple brown paper, no, it has to compete with the hundred other chocolate brands, but of course, all those brands were owned by the same three companies. Look, here was one chocolate item wrapped in Wholesome™ packaging proclaiming the chocolate to be not only organic but also sourced from independent cocoa farmers focused on helping women build better lives. But that chocolate company was just a brand name owned and operated by one of the same giant three corporations that bought chocolate harvested by children stolen from mothers and sold into forced labor. All to fill a carefully calculated percentage of shelf space in this pleasant nightmare. These weren’t goods they were selling, if anything they were bads. Hoarded horrors in this war of wares.

People, people, in the way, or was X in their way... a crowd of one not at one with the crowd, mumbled excuse-mes not allowed to be loud, while the silent voice’s noises shouted out! get out! But X still needed dinner and mouthwash.

Past the eggs which X could rarely eat anymore, used to like the ovarary production of the aviary, until the introduction of some drugs or somethin’ made it very hard to savor properly, a flavor like a cemetery, some property industrial, that’s possibly some commentary on the bigger problem: that our produce, all our meat and dairy’s basically controlled by cash, so have to stay completely wary.

Shit, X had done a whole loop around the store, head full of eggs.

X turned the corner into the next aisle, where meat ranched overcrowded on deforested land was dyed the cartoon color children were raised to expect. Bright red steaks, orangish pink chicken. How was X supposed to buy and eat these things, knowing that not only were the healthy qualities of the foods compromised, not only was the world itself harmed by their industrialized production, but also studies indicated enjoyment of the food, trust in the food, these things effected the very ability of the body to absorb nutrients from the food. When presented with the same ingredients in a form unfamiliar or untrusted versus in a form trusted and enjoyed, the nutritional uptake by the person eating that food was noticeably different. And knowing what X knew, there had not been a meal in years that had been trusted, that had not been tainted by guilt and uncertainty, the subtle aftertaste of evil.

X left the super market shattered and exhausted, halfway home before realizing the mouthwash had never made it into the hand basket.

#writing #wip #fiction

21 notes · View notes

let-the-living-beware · 1 year

Text

I feel a bit down so I might just write this.

You had been ill for a few days now but always decided to go to work anyway. You couldn't miss a day, that's what your parents told you at least and now you were completely knocked out. The third box of handkerchiefs was almost empty and your nose still run like it had to complete a marathon. And your throat, God how much your throat hurt. You just wanted to bury yourself in a hole and never come out. Thankfully you now had a roommate who could make you tea for that. First Shin wasn't so happy, berading you on how you could get ill and how weak humans were. You only rolled your eyes at him and laid down.

While you suffered Shin casually stood in the kitchen waiting for the water to boil. Maybe it was good that you were this ill, you wouldn't taste or smell the poison properly, this was his chance to get rid of you and finally avenge those who froze him in that damn ice block. Alone the thought of them filled him with anger.

"Is the tea ready?" you asked from the living room. Shins focus now lasted on you and the boiling tea kettle.

"Yeah wait." now it was time for the poison. Back when he was still a baby his mother would give him and his brother whole trees of different kinds of nuts. Something in them reacted with their blood and made it highly poisonous the only problem was that it also made it poisonous to themselves, even if the reaction wasn't as hard as with other life forms it still wasn't pleasant.

He took out two mugs, a white and black one. They seemed to be a match in pair with 'Ready, Steady' on the white one and 'Go!' written on the black one. He decided to give you the white one and promptly put out two bags of walnut tea together with a knife. Shin looked at it for a few seconds, he just had to put in a few drops. It wouldn't change the colour and it was for the greater good. With a sigh he into his palm and after three drops immediately poured the water over it together with putting the bag in there.

" Shin! Could you bring me some ibuprofen? I am dying over here." You shouted from the living room. Shin rolled his eyes and walked over tot the couch, you really looked pathetic. It would have amused him if it weren't for the fact that he was also reminded of the fact that you're technically his wife now.

"Where is it?" he asked and you pointed towards the drawer. It wasn't that far away and he was sure you could have gotten it yourself.

"Catch." Shin quickly threw it towards you and walked back into the kitchen. He looked at the mugs, something seemed different. He was sure he put the white one on the right side and the black one on the right. Shin just shrugged it off and took the mugs to the living room. He sat infront of you.

"Thank you. Could you maybe make them colder? Like you do with your food." you asked after you tried to touch your tea.

"Sure but don't think I'll be your personal refrigerator forever." Shin snapped with his fingers and it worked again. You would never get over this, absorbing heat around you with a simple snip of the fingers. You thanked him and took a sip of your drink.

Shin also took one, eagerly awaiting your death but instead you just put your tea down.

"Aren't these cool shin? They change color when you put hot water in them! The black one turns white and the other way around." Shin, who was still drinking his tea, spit the contents that were in his mouth out.

"What?!" he felt his head turning a feeling of sickness made itself comfortable in his stomach.

You were surprised to see Shin sprinting to the bathroom. Confused you looked at his cup and picked it up. After carefully trying to decipher if the smell is off you decided to follow your 'lawfully' married dragon and found him sitting infront of the toilet. A few dark blue scales were now visible and he looked even paler than before.

"Are you OK?" you asked and kneeled down beside him.

"Do I look like it?"

"Maybe your allergic to nuts." you stood up again and walked towards the bathroom door. "I am gonna throw them away and get you something."

Shin couldn't even protest against it, just watch you leave.

#Idk what this is #But it's fun #diabolik lovers #shin tsukinami #my writing

2 notes · View notes

voidselfshipp · 2 months

Text

Happily Ever Afters In The Apocalypse

Cw: none that im aware of.

->Only mutuals allowed to reblog.

Summary: walking through the barren,demolished Lands of the apocalypse, Martin asks for something to lighten up the mood,jerico has just the thing.

[Happends after the tape recording of episode 167]

The three of them Walked along that barren,sullied earth where the clouds looked like eyes and the air was thick with iron.

In all this disaster,They still found comfort amongst eachother. Jerico seemed the one to have the most optimism of the three,either by her natural sunny disposition or otherwise.

--So...jer-- says Martin,looking at the earth he steps on-- since Jon made this whole monologue about gertrude...can you tell us a story?

Jerico lets out a soft "hmph" filled with pride. she was,after all, a being of stories-- absolutely-- she answers,hands in her pockets of her beaten up jeans,heavy boots sinking slightly on the soft earth,though no tracks are left in her wake.-- what kind?

Thats when he looks away, a little flustered. Suddenly very aware of how childish hes request sounded.

--Ah youre going to think its silly-- he says,the corner of his eye catching how her teal scarf,draped Across her shoulders and held to her person with an old clasp made of gold, flailed with the wind

Then a brief silence, a clear signal that Martin had forgotten once again that Jer wouldnt judge him. Still,she talks

--Nonsense-- She reassured with a smile.-- what kind?

--The kind that has....a happy ending?--He was prepared to hear Jon scoff, but he doesnt,clearly in need of some good vibes.

She smiles,still warm as the sun they have seldomed in apocalypse-- of those I know a plenty. Anything specific?

And its Jon who catches them off guard with a most out of character response-- romantic--Both turn to look at him in surprise-- what?! You two cant judge me for it

Jer only shook her head between chuckles-- surprised me,thats all

--Youre not the most romantic person-- Martin agreed-- we love you for it though

--Yeah yeah,thank you-- the archivist dismissed with his face a Darker color than before-- let the Lady talk

--Well, here goes--Jerico says,excitement bubbling up in her chest,rubbing her hands together.

Her childlike joy is a nice change of pace for both of them,which helps them relax and ease into the story as the air still smells of iron and desolation.

--Once upon a time there were two sailors-- she starts, her palm raising to her chest to show the image of two sailors made of water without any visible characteristic other than one of them had short hair and the other long hair-- they worked at the same ship, the name long lost to the ages.

They worked hard to Keep the ship afloat,both were dedicated and passionate but different in their own ways.

One had long hair and beautiful green eyes, sharpest mind and witt. The other had short hair and deep brown eyes, of the Kindest heart of the most purest gold, that guided hin like a compass.

Despite the fact that their ways of keeping the clear difference in their methods. But both were bound by a deep love,one they hadnt realized was there for the time being.

The night that would change their lives was much like any other,cloudy skies, gloomy... it was boring,not much to see or do other than check that the ship,now Docked,didnt float away.

But again, it was a boring unremarkable night,so they both went to sleep.

Yet when they awoke, they found themselves in the middle of the Ocean .

Jericos palm shows a small old timey boat lost in the middle of an Ocean that encompases her whole hand

-- the two sailors bickered over whose fault was it. "Didnt you moore the ship properly?" The one with the long hair asked, bitter indignation in his lips-- they notice jer changes her voice for the dialogues,which is just the level of dramaticisim they expected from her-- "of course I did, didnt you drop the anchor?!" The one with the black hair protested.

Amongst their bicering over the sea breeze, they hear a soft gentle melody being hummed, they follow it with their eyes to a faraway island that looked more like a dot on the horizon than anything else

But,it was a destination.

So our intrepid sailors put the mast on full sail, the wind pushing them to the ever faraway island. With hope in their hearts of returning home.

Jer makes water hang above the small ship on her palm, it takes the form of a small moon and stars. Martín smiles with that same childish delight and Jon seems to relax in his posture,walking a little slower to Keep up with the story

--during the night,when they couldnt sleep for fear of floating away, they would hear that same melody that originally guided their eyes to see the island that they were heading towards.

Now closer to It, the melody was louder,not enough to discern words but louder.

They'd spend the whole night discussing what the source was, "an opera singer?" Wondered the sailor with the long hair and the Smart green eyes

"Or a choir?" The sailor with the warm brown eyes said.

By the time they reached the conclusion of it being a siren or anything of the supernatual,they'd both chuckle and find something to busy themselves with,all the while accompanied by that sweet melody

Then,the small moon and stars turn into a small heavy rainstorm. The small boat rocks widly in the sea and even if both men were promised a happy ending,they both stared intently at the fake ship.

Jerico laughs and continued her story-- one night, a storm loomed over the ship. A strong,raging one with the fury of the water goddess herself, but being so low staffed,the ship crashes into the rocky archipelagos that lined that mysterious island they headed towards.

Both sailors managed to hold eachother as they fell into the black,unforgiving sea..-- her hand covers her little water mademiniature, crushing the boat.

--Now Hold on a minute!--Martin protested with his pointer finger up-- I was promised a happy ending!

--Yes! Thats nothing close to it!--Jon said-- we dont know what the island is or who was singing!

Jerico is in a fit of hysterical laughter at their demeanor,its as if the world hadnt ended at all-- Well if you dont shut up and let me finish....!-- she exclaimed,trailing off to drive the point home.

--Fine fine,get on with it-- Martin complains-- dont take too long

--Good stories take their time....-- she answers.

--Time isnt really a thing anymore so...--Jon adds, obviously insisting to speed things up.

--fine fine-- she rolls her eyes-- the long haired sailor woke up within a cavern,decorated with gold and jewelry,glinting Stones that refracted the lights from the small torches.

He finds himself alone,but that melody hangs in the air, the words are a little fuzzy but theres two voices singing them,one female and one male

Our sailor ran to the source of the singing,he knew that male voice very well for he had spoken with its owner for Many days and nights...

There at the entrance of the cavern sat his jolly companion, singing with a most beautiful woman,half of her body hid underneath the ebbing shore.

For a moment the world doesnt exist to our long haired sailor, his eyes fixated on his sweet companion. He hugs his comrade and holds him to his chest,and he gets his gesture returned.

His friend of the black hair and soft eyes tells him that this mysterious woman is the source of that singing theyve heard,and that she rescued them.

"So you see,the gods are laughing at us" said the black haired man" our savior is..."

--a siren!-- Jon exclaimed,obviously invested.

Jer smirked-- yes, a siren -- she fixes her teal scarf and pushes away some of the hairs falling on her face-- to thank the kind siren, they would return each year with gifts, and they'd spend days together,catching up.

And the siren,of beautiful porcelain skin and agile green eyes, noticed the fondness of the sailors for eachother. She yearned for both of the sailors love and touch

So on one of their visits,she confessed that she had Fallen for them harder than any anchor could ever fall for the Ocean. She wept her mother of pearl tears and Begged for them to understand

The sailors had,funnily enough,fallen for the siren. And this point of connection led both sea men to finally admit their feelings for eachother,but deep down they both felt like they already knew.

And so, when the sailors retired,they went to live with their siren lover,and lived happily ever after

--Thats actually really cute-- Said Martin,taking Jers hand.

--yes,its a nice change of air-- Agreed Jon,taking Jericos arm-- thank you

Jerico smirked with that playfullness she always had when she pulled a sneaky trick. In her head she counts the moment until they realize what she had done.

--WAIT A GODDAMN MINUTE-- Martin yells-- THAT STORY WAS ABOUT US,WASNT IT?

--ding ding ding! Weee got a winner!--she exclaimed,feeling very proud of herself.

--How didnt I realize That?!--Jon whined.

--Surprises me that you didnt put that together sooner,Jon-- She admitted with a smirk.

--I...do gotta admit it was nice not knowing the end of something...

Jer smiles--good, im happy it helped

Martin walks closer to her,hugging her waist with one arm--so If this story is about us...do you think we'll get a happy ending?

The eldritch being nodded,pulling Jon for a hug too-- Absolutely, ill make sure we do. After all,stories with a happy ending are my favorite-- she gives them both a loving look with her beautiful green eyes-- and I Belive there is no other way to close this odessy of ours but "and they lived happily ever after".

Jon allowed himself a moment of hope and clung on to his lovers words,so did Martin.

There was no other way to end their story than "And they lived happily ever after".

#tma s/I #martin tag pending #jon tag pending

0 notes

yup-thats-me · 2 years

Text

Baths and Care || Johnny Depp x reader

If you’re still looking for prompts, could I request something with reader comforting Johnny at the end of the day and helping him relax? This trial is breaking my heart, I wish I could hug him. request by @trekkitkat

a/n: Thank you for requesting! Hope you like it :)<3

pairing: Johnny Depp x reader

summary: you help Johnny rewind after a hard day by running him a bath :)

warning: none. fluff. bath bombs and fluffy 🤧

masterlist

As soon as Johnny found you sitting on the couch, he slouched down on the furniture, his head resting on your lap. You put down your phone and looked down at your wearied out lover.

He hummed when your caressed his hair, nuzzling deeper into your belly to take in your warmth and your sweet smell that he so loved.

"Hard day?" You kissed the top of his head. He hummed in response.

As your fingers ran through his hair, the brown strands felt rough. They had to be taken care of.

"Baby?" he nodded, telling you to go on.

"When was the last time you had the time to properly wash your hair?"

He kept quite, thinking over the week. The week was exhausting. Running from set to home, then back to the set, the make up, the hair sprays, the heat, the dirt all added up to the dryness of his hair, and frankly he didn't cared as much.

He chuckled against you, "Who cares, love?"

"I do," you shook your head and proceeded to stand up only to be pulled back by Johnny. "Where are you going?"

"I'm gonna run you a bath", you said pecking his cheeks.

He watched as you walked in the bathroom, the sound of water running filling the air. You came back in the room, tying your hair up in a messy bun. "Come here," you ordered.

He jumped from the couch and practically sprinted to stand in front of you making you giggle at his actions.

"Dork."

Johnny was bouncing on his feet, excited to see what you had in store for him. "Strip. I'll be back in a second", he nodded.

He was stripping off his clothes when you came back with a colorful ball in hand. Seeing the object in your hands, his head perked up. "Is that a bath bomb?"

You giggled. "Yes it is. I bought it for you. Now c'mere," you pulled at his wrist to hover over the bathtub filled with water. "Ready?"

He bobbed his head and watched as you dropped it in, a childish smile gracing your lips. Your eyes lit up when the ball exploded, the colors spreading out in the water. "Ah. Always the favourite part."

You got in the tub first, Johnny followed suit, sitting so that his back was pressed agaist you. You wet his hair first. He hummed satisfied as the water met his hot scalp, a moan slipping his lips when you messaged the scalp with your fingertips.

"Like it, baby?" You smirked.

"You know I love everything you do or say."

You wetted his hair thoroughly, and reached for the shampoo bottle present on the table beside the tub. Pumping a fair amout, you lathered it up in your hands before applying on his hair. You massaged his hair softly, allowing the product to seep through the strands.

Johnny physically relaxed at your administrations. He felt your soft fingers on his rough scalp, the way you would so carefully scratch the scalp as not to hurt him. He had always loved the way you'd treat him with such gentleness. He'd be forever grateful to the Gods above to hve you in his life.

"Done with the shampoo. Time for the conditioner!" You chirped.

Putting on the conditioner, you grabbed the soap for the soap dish. Johnny turned to look at to you, confused. "I thought the deal was only for the hair."

You smiled "Yeah, but all of you is a part of me."

You lathered the soap on the loofah, and began to scrub his back. You watched intently, the ink on his back fascinating you. Your fingers grazed on the designs on his back. Reaching down for his hands, you intimated the colored ink.

Johnny chuckled. "You've always liked my tattoos", smirking widely, referencing to the uncountable times you had left nail marks on his back, during your passionate times.

Even though he couldn't see you, he could tell you were blushing mad. "Shut up," you muttered quietly.

The rest of the bath session went on wordless. You washing and scrubing his body, washing off the conditioner off his hair. After forty five minutes he was all done. Nice and fresh.

You got out the tub, ignoring all the whines from your boyfriend. You smirked as Johny watched you strip down from your wet clothes and put on the pyjama set.

"When will I see you again, ms. L/n?" He asked dramatically.

"The very moment you'll come out the bathroom and get on bed, Mr. Depp," you bowed your head, playing along the little act. You giggled, making your way to the bedroom.

You were putting on the cream when Johnny came out, dressed in a pair of sweats and a black tshirt you've picked out for him. He jumped on the bed, making the bed bounce on his impact.

After you were done with your night-routine, you got in beside him. As soon as Johnny felt your presence on the bed, he pulled you, your back pressed flushed against his chest.

He muttered something in your neck but you were too busy to smell him to make out what he said.

"Huh? What?" You asked as you were finally done smelling him. Can you blame yourself that he smelt soo good, it was hard to resist. His hair had become soft too.

"I said, Thank you, my love. For everything." You kissed his cheek in return.

You were fast asleep with his warm presence behind you, the same was for Johnny. The both of you slept peacefully knowing nothing in the world matters anymore now that you're with each other.

#johnny depp x reader #johnny depp fluff #johnny depp imagine #johnny depp #johnny depp x you

1K notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

(𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐)

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || your newest client asks you to give him a real challenge, and you’re happy to oblige.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 6.3k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut but no actual sex (lots of handjob stuff though and some brief oral m receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, more cnc (because of the overstimulation), bondage, edging, impact play (riding crop), brief cock torture (she just hits him with the crop a couple times), implied “kink as trauma response” (this is gonna be a theme throughout the whole fic), forced to break a rule/doomed to fail/impossible challenge (idk how to warn for this but yeah), forced voyeurism?, thigh riding (reader rides bucky’s thigh), some degradation/dumbification, brief/implied dacryphilia, a bit of angst/feelings

new parts posted on thursdays! join the taglist here

“Can’t,” he sighed, “can’t come again.”

He looked so painfully adorable when he begged like that, his brow glistening with sweat as he jerked under your touch. “Aw, poor baby,” you pouted, twisting your hand when it stroked over the head of his cock, “yes you can. I know you can. Just gimme one more.”

“F-fuck,” he whimpered, “Mistress, please— just stop, please, I can’t… can’t take any more…”

“I know you can, sweetheart— I know you can be my good boy and keep coming for me. Tell me your color.”

“Yellow,” he whispered.

“Think you’re almost done?” you pressed, smiling when he nodded breathlessly. “Yeah, there’s my good boy— gonna come again for your Mistress?”

“Yes,” he breathed, baring his teeth as his hips bucked wildly to try to avoid further sensation, “y-yes, one more, just one more, I’m gonna— fuck, gonna come, just don’t stop… fuck, it hurts.”

“I know, but you’re being so good for me,” you purred. “You like it when I milk your pretty cock, don’t you? Even though it hurts?”

He winced but nodded. “C-coming, Mistress, fuck, I’m coming…!”

Since it was his fifth of the evening, he could only give you one thick drop of come that gathered at his slit before running down over your hand which finally slowed to a stop.

You both sighed with relief as you pulled your hand away and leaned back, admiring how beautiful he looked as he caught his breath, covered in come and sweat.

"Good job," you praised with a chuckle, "I hope I didn't go too hard on you."

"N-no, that was… that was really good," he sighed, slumping back onto the bed. "Can I use your shower before I go?"

"Yeah, totally," you nodded.

After a long pause, you gave him a confused look.

"I thought you were gonna shower?" you reminded him.

"Oh… I guess I have to get up for that," he sighed, making you laugh.

"Rest a bit longer. You've had a… challenging afternoon."

He nodded a little and you got up from the bed to go wash your hands and freshen up a little, smiling at your own appearance in the mirror— sometimes you forgot how you looked when you did this, but there was an undeniable aura of power around you… especially after a session like that.

This was only your third week with James, and already the dynamic felt so natural between you— and yet, so fresh compared to your other clients. Normally it took longer for a newbie to get comfortable with you, yet most of them had had multiple doms before and here was James, totally inexperienced and taking it all like a champ. There was an air of innocence about him, you figured, in contrast to this undeniable strength and intensity that you caught glimpses of from time to time.

Sometimes, it felt like he was chasing an innocence he lost a long time ago. Whatever it was that drew him to this, you were happy to help him along the way.

It was probably a little dangerous to enjoy sessions with a client so much; even though you often pretended that everything was about your pleasure and not theirs, obviously since they were the paying customer it was the complete opposite in reality. But there was an equity to the dynamic with you and Bucky, he served you with a real dedication rather than for his own gain. And you, meanwhile, had rediscovered the fun in this career that had originally drawn you to it in the first place. It was less like a science now, more like an art— you let yourself go with your instincts and do whatever felt right in the moment, and both of you benefitted for it.

“Come on, get up and clean yourself off,” you encouraged— gently, of course— as you left the bathroom and returned to find James laying sprawled out on the bed.

“I know you said falling asleep here was a one-time courtesy,” he remembered with a smile, “but I could use it now a lot more than I needed it then.”

Honestly, you didn’t see him smile that often. It was pleasant; you hoped to see it again. He did get up, though, and take the washcloth you handed him to wipe off the come that had gotten all over him. “What are you thinking for next week?” you asked as you leaned against the wall. “Any special requests?”

“We can discuss all that over the phone,” he decided. You still didn’t understand fully why he didn’t like to discuss future scenes in person; it was like he wanted the in-person interactions to be as ‘in character’ (if you will) as possible.

“Alright, just keep me updated,” you requested with a shrug.

You got changed while he took his shower, and when he emerged to the living room he seemed surprised to see you sitting on your own couch. After a moment, you realized it was the fact that you were in normal clothes that threw him off. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in jeans before… or pants of any kind.”

You looked down at your outfit with a smile, glad it was at least still professional and not sweats and a t-shirt or something. “Yeah, I guess you haven’t. First time for everything, right?”

“Yeah, had a lot of first times with you,” he chuckled. “Most significantly less mundane than this.”

A brief silence filled the room but it wasn’t exactly awkward, at least not for you.

“Well, I’ll see you next week,” he decided as he grabbed his jacket from your chair and slipped it on. You’d been spending most of this session trying to forget how good he looked in the leather motorcycle cut, so that was out the window now as you tried to keep from visibly biting your lip while he walked towards the door.

Damn, he was fine. But there were more pressing matters at hand. Like preparing yourself and your apartment for your next appointment. This guy wanted to get slapped around until he cried… shouldn't be too difficult, but your arms would probably be sore tomorrow.

Opposite of last week, I really want you to edge me tonight, as long as possible.

Don't go easy on me, make me hold it in. I need a challenge this week.

-J

It was odd how emails from James made your week.

He seemed to prefer to communicate his desire with you this way; maybe it was easier for him, and you couldn’t really blame him for that. The nice part was that you didn’t have to temper your reactions, if you had any, since you were always alone when you got his messages. You might be old hat at it now, but you could remember a time that you had to hide a grimace when a client told you to your face what he wanted. Not that you would shame them for it or anything (unless, you know, they paid you to), but you didn’t enjoy everything you did with these men.

Did you enjoy everything you did with James? Yes, but you were pretending not to— for your own sake.

You dressed a bit differently for today’s session, more conservatively… not that it was especially conservative by any other person’s standards. But it left your legs and chest covered, somewhat in the spirit of ‘mean corporate businesswoman’ aesthetically. For some reason you felt like using a riding crop required wearing pants.

James certainly didn’t seem to mind, with the way he nervously cleared his throat after you opened the door.

“Good to see you again,” you greeted formally, “please, come in.”

He stepped past you, still looking at you and not at what was in front of him, meaning he ended up slamming himself gut-first into your kitchen island.

“Oh! Are you alright?” you smiled when you noticed.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he nodded, rubbing his stomach for a second but recovering quickly. “I told you I can take a lot of pain,” he joked.

“Well, we’re going to put that to the test today,” you promised cryptically. “You must’ve seen the crop on the table.”

He nodded again. “Yeah....”

“Are you looking forward to it?”

“Yes,” he answered, a bit too quickly.

“Then let’s get you tied up, James.”

Straddling his lap, you realized the rope was a bit too tight when you saw it digging into his skin; maybe he wouldn’t mind that, but you did, so you pushed the rope back through itself to loosen it slightly.

“How long did it take you to learn all these knots?” he asked casually, watching your fingers nimbly work the ropes around his wrists.

“Not too long,” you shrugged, “I’ve only been doing this a few years… but I knew them before that.”

“Boating school? Boy Scouts?” he suggested jokingly.

“Just a hobby,” you decided, dodging the covert question about your past. “Were you a Boy Scout?”

“Do I look like a Boy Scout?” he countered with a scoff.

“Not anymore,” you shrugged, “but I bet you did once. You’re sorta innocent, you know.”

He swallowed dryly, and you raised an eyebrow as you glanced from the knot you were tightening to his face, which looked a bit flustered. “R-really?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, leaning back on your heels to look at him straight-on. “Are you surprised to hear that?”

He nodded quickly, and you laughed.

“Aw, you thought you were so kinky, huh? So dirty,” you purred, running your hand up his leg until he tugged slightly on the newly-tied ropes— a subtle way to get him to test them for you. “But you’re really not. You’re just my sweet, innocent boy.”

He whined— really, properly whined— and you dug your nails into his skin until he hissed instead.

“I don’t think you believe me,” you noticed, leaning back to reach for the crop behind you. “You think you’re so filthy and perverted, right? Are you a pervert, James?”

“Yes,” he breathed, shivering as you let the crop slide gently over his skin— his abs, his hips, his legs which were already quivering so adorably. “Yes, Mistress.”

“And how’s that?”

“I think about… getting hurt,” he admitted weakly, “when I touch myself. And I touch myself all the fucking time.”

“Yeah? How many times a day do you stroke that pretty cock, James?”

“Twice every morning,” he blurted out, “after that it depends.”

You didn’t let yourself show your surprise at that number. “Depends on what?”

When he hesitated, you hit him sharply on the thigh and he winced. “Depends on what I… what I end up thinking about. Sometimes… sometimes something reminds me, and I have to get off.”

Something told you not to press on what it was that he needed to be reminded of, and why it made him want to jerk off so bad. Something told you he wasn’t ready to tell that story yet. “Did you touch yourself today already?” you asked instead.

“No, no ma’am,” he shook his head, voice wavering as you brushed the crop over his chest, “it’s… it’s different with you.”

“Yeah, I bet it is,” you smirked, hitting him on the stomach quickly. “I bet you’re finally satisfied, right? Nothing’s ever worked for you before.”

“Yes,” he moaned, crying out slightly when you hit him on the arm (flesh— you were too afraid what sound the metal one would make) much harder than before. “The nights I see you, I… I can sleep.”

“You sleep better?”

“No, I just… sleep.”

You tried not to react to that, moving to a new question instead. “Do you want me to hit you again? Or do you want me to stroke your cock for you?”

An obvious choice to some, surely, but he seemed to really struggle with it.

“Which one do you think you deserve?” you asked instead.

“Hit me more,” he decided.

Instantly, you struck him once on the face and again on the shoulder, then moved down to his legs for three in a row in spite of the way his body jerked away instinctively.

“Fuck,” he sobbed, “don’t stop— I need more…”

You focused on his legs, on the inside of his thigh where he seemed the most sensitive. His twisted joy turned to true fear, though, when you brushed the end of the crop over his balls. “Do you want me to hit you here?” you challenged.

“I… I don’t know,” he stammered.

“Let’s make a deal, James,” you offered, “wherever I hit you, I’m gonna kiss it to make it better.”

“Then hit me wherever you want,” he nodded, almost smiling at you. He cried through his teeth when you whipped his shaft with the crop— not especially hard, in fact quite delicately, though the second was harder. And the third, though not much more aggressive, was right on the sensitive tip; his eyes shot open and his hips jerked away.

“So good, such a good boy,” you whispered proudly, putting the crop aside to lean in and kiss his cheek where you’d hit him before, his shoulder, his arm.

You worked your way down carefully as he breathed heavily beneath you, whimpering slightly when you kissed his thighs and notably ignored his flexing, leaking cock. “Please,” he whimpered.

“Shh, be patient,” you soothed, “be my good boy.”

“Your good boy,” he repeated, trying to restrain himself but already bucking up into the air again, “fuck, wanna be your good boy, Mistress.”

“Are you already close, pet, just from getting hurt?” you asked in a faux pout. “You’re not gonna come if I give your pretty cock some kisses, right?”

“I— I won’t come,” he promised. “Not until I get permission.”

“Baby, it’s gonna be a long fuckin’ time before you get permission,” you promised with a toothy grin. “Look down at me, honey, I want you to see this.”

He hesitated for a second but obeyed, looking down at you with an expression that was full of awe as you gripped his cock and gave gentle, teasing kisses up his shaft. It bobbed in your hands with each one, and he let out the most beautiful sigh when you kissed the tip carefully.

A wide lick made him jerk beneath you. “F-Fuck,” he stammered.

“You said you wouldn’t come,” you reminded him. “Can I keep going? Are you gonna be a good boy?”

“Don’t stop, please,” he breathed, “I’ll be good.”

Taking the head between your lips, you suckled gently as he shivered and moaned. You weren’t sure you’d ever been with anybody— on or off the clock— who was so sensitive. And you loved it, honestly; who could resist those precious noises he made?

As much as part of you wanted to go nuts and really push him to the edge, you tried to be gentle and careful so as not to make it impossible for him to hold back. But even then, when you gently grasped his balls in one of your hands and squeezed them, he apparently couldn’t take anymore.

"S-stop," he hissed, and you pulled back, sitting up.

"You were close?" you asked, and he nodded a little. "Oh, what a good boy."

He whimpered briefly. "Yes, your good boy, Mistress…"

Your fingers trailed delicately up the underside of his cock, making him shiver violently. "I know you want to come, but you want to be good even more. You're such a sweet little pet."

It seemed like the praises did more to keep him on the edge than the touches, so you kept both going; wrapping your fingers around the ridge of his head, you gave the most gentle and subtle strokes, and leaned in to whisper against his ear.

“Is this why you wanted me to edge you today, James? So you could show me how good you can be?”

“I-I don’t know,” he blurted out, rocking his hips as best he could while restrained, “I just wanted to… I just wanted you to make me wait.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that,” you laughed slightly, “I can make you wait all day. Is that what you want?”

“No, that’s— not that long, I can’t wait that long,” he shuddered.

“Mm, that sounds like your problem, not mine,” you smirked. “Not sure why I asked what you want, honestly… cause I don’t fucking care.”

His choked-out whine was too perfect to ignore.

“Oh, what a pathetic little moan that was, poor baby,” you cooed mockingly, “are you regretting it now? You’re probably wondering what you got yourself into, ‘cause you’re worried Mistress is never gonna let you come.”

“No, I don’t regret it,” he denied weakly, “whatever you want— do whatever you want to me, just… give me what I deserve, please.”

You stopped touching him completely and he straight-up sobbed. “You don’t deserve anything from me, James. You don’t deserve me at all.”

He told you before that he liked when you rapidly cycled between soft and mean. Kept him on his toes, apparently. Honestly, you felt a little guilty talking to him that way sometimes, but his cock leaking enough pre-cum to soak the bedsheets beneath him was a sign you were doing something right. “I know!” he cried. “I know, fuck, I’m sorry, but I need you. I fucking need you, Mistress, please— you know I’ll do anything.”

“I’m feeling generous today,” you shrugged, “so I won’t ask you for much. Just beg me a little more.”

“Please, pleasepleaseplease,” he rushed, “touch me. Anywhere, whatever you want, I just need to feel you. I know I… fuck, I know I don’t deserve it, but let me try to— to earn it. Please.”

You knew if he had it his way, he wouldn’t do much talking at all. But you couldn’t just let him have it his way, now could you? It was better to make him just the right amount of nervous, just the slightest hair uncomfortable, by making him talk to you. And, of course, you liked the way his deep and rough voice got all whiny and needy like this.

One finger under his chin guided him to look up at you, those pretty blue eyes watery and sparkling and wide with misplaced innocence.

“Tell me who you belong to, James,” you instructed darkly.

“You, Mistress,” he whispered, “I’m yours, I— oh fuck…”

Unshockingly, he was reduced to only moans again when you started stroking his cock, the slick precum making every movement smoother. “All mine, huh? My little toy?” you confirmed, but he could only nod and swallow thickly.

You sped up quickly, getting faster and faster until you were really, properly jerking him off and he was biting hard on his lip. Just when he seemed to really fall into it, get almost comfortable, you had to stop.

"Oh, fuck—" he gasped, bucking his hips up to try to chase your hand when you pulled away, but it was no use with him tied up. You watched his cock bob in the air and smiled.

“Did you think it was going to be that easy?” you smirked.

Shaking his head, you tilted yours to look at him, reaching up to trace your fingers over his chest.

“Don’t lie, baby, you thought I was gonna let you come, didn’t you? You’re so sweet, James, and so, so stupid.”

He gasped, and for a second you thought you might’ve gone too far, but it shifted to a moan quickly and you realized he was having the time of his life.

“Just my dumb, brainless little toy,” you continued with a snarl, watching him tug at the ropes as his eyes fluttered shut. “It’s okay, James, it’s okay… you don’t need to think, I don’t want your mind. It’s useless. I want this pretty cock, that’s all I want from you.”

“It’s all yours, Mistress,” he promised, cheeks burning bright red and eyes forced shut. “All of it, I swear.”

“I know,” you cooed, holding his face gently to soothe him a bit. But then your other hand wrapped around his cock and he was anything but soothed. “Shh, shh, don’t make any sounds, you’re just a toy and toys need to stay quiet.”

You missed his noises, actually, but he looked so cute biting his lip and struggling to suppress them. His cock was so swollen in your hand that you honestly wondered if it was somehow getting bigger. Was that even possible? Your mouth was watering regardless.

“I’m gonna give you a little break,” you promised gently, “but I’ll be honest, pretty boy… I don’t think you’re gonna like it one bit.”

The look he gave you beautifully balanced fear with anticipation, and you stopped stroking him to reach over towards the bedside drawer and pull out a vibrator.

“Your Mistress is feeling a little.... self-indulgent today,” you winked. “And since I, unlike you, don’t need to hold myself back from coming, I think I might as well get myself off if I want to.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed dryly, watching you closely as you stood up off the bed and started to carefully undress yourself. It was a lot more fun to get naked when you were wearing something that didn’t actually show much skin— the button-up seemed to really get him going, his tongue mindlessly darting out to lick his lips as you opened one button at a time.

Once it was off your shoulders and on the floor, and he could see the almost-transparent bra you had on, you moved to opening your trousers as well. Just to be mean, you faced the other way as you pushed them down over your ass; you heard his breath catch and you smirked to yourself, spinning to face him again in just the matching, dark red bra and panty set.

“What do you think, do you like this better than the black ones?” you asked coyly.

“I like you naked better than both,” he answered, and you grinned.

“I’m gonna let that backtalk slide just once because it’s not worth my time to go over there and slap you for it,” you decided. “But don’t test me, James.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he answered dutifully, sounding a bit out of breath as he watched you climb back onto the bed, positioning yourself carefully.

You faced him straight-on and laid your legs over his, meaning your lace-covered pussy was in full view and only inches from his leaking cock— the damn thing looked sore by now, purple at the tip and just as desperate for attention as the rest of him.

When you pulled the fabric aside to show him your cunt, he hissed and looked away.

“Look at me, James, keep your eyes open,” you demanded, seeing how totally wrecked he looked when he turned his head back to you and stared down at your body with half-lidded eyes. “Look at how fucking soaked my pussy is. You remember how it feels to be inside it, don’t you?”

He swallowed, sighed, and finally (just barely) nodded.

“You remember how hot and wet and tight it is, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” he choked.

“Well, that memory’s all you’ve got to work with, sweet boy, because I don’t think I’m ever gonna let you fuck this pussy again.”

He really, properly sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks, and those arms flexed against the ropes defiantly. “N-no, please—”

“I’m gonna make myself come with this,” you promised, interrupting him as you grabbed the vibe, “and I want you to remember how it feels when I come around you, okay?

Turning it on, you wasted no time pressing it to your clit, moving the end of the toy in slow circles and keeping a close eye on him as he watched you. Your intention had always been to give him a show, but the embarrassing thing was how little of it was an act. Ironically, even though you’d been edging him this whole time, having to touch him that way without any pleasure for yourself was almost as torturous. You’d soaked through your panties by the time you had him tied up, to be totally honest. So, giving into it and letting yourself feel good was a breeze.

“Think about when I was riding you, James,” you instructed, your own voice clearly affected by your pleasure now. “Think about how good it would feel if I let you come inside me.”

“Oh, god,” he cried, leaning his head back.

“Think about my pussy milking every fucking drop of come out of you. You know I wouldn’t let you stop until I was completely full of your come, I bet you’d like that. I bet you’d like to eat your come out of me, you sick little pervert.”

“Fuck!” he yelped, tugging at the ropes harder now— for a second you thought he might really break them and jump you. And for a second, you knew you’d let him. It made your walls clench as you imagined facing the consequences of driving a man to the brink of insanity until he couldn’t help but fuck you like an animal. It was a good thing he didn’t see you bite your lip as you imagined that.

“You know what I’m thinking about?” you taunted.

“God, don’t tell me,” he sighed through his teeth, but obviously you ignored him.

“I’m thinking about what a good boy you are for me,” you cooed, your hips starting to rock up against where you held the end of the vibrator; you pressed it down harder onto your clit and moaned instantly. “Yeah, I’m thinking about how pretty you look when you’re all desperate and needy and fucking pathetic—”

“Oh—” he choked.

“My dumb litlte whore, that’s all you are, James,” you groaned. “I know you wish you could touch me, it’s all you can think about, right? That pretty head of yours would be completely empty if it weren’t for thoughts of me and how badly you want me. Right?”

“Yes,” he whispered huskily.

A shiver ran up your spine when the vibrator bumped into a more sensitive part of you, and you did it again and again until you thought you might lose it a bit faster than you meant to. “This toy feels really good,” you informed him in a purr, gasping when you slipped the vibrating body of it into your pussy, “but it doesn’t feel as good inside me as you do.”

His eyes fell shut but he still winced a bit every time you made a sound; he couldn’t run from this, no matter how hard he tried.

“Oh James,” you moaned loudly, fucking yourself with the vibe for a moment before you pulled it back out to focus even harder on your clit, “I’m gonna come. I’m so, so close… I can feel it getting stronger, I think I might make a mess on these sheets. And the only way I’m ever gonna let you come is if you watch me do it. So open your fucking eyes.”

He blinked quickly as he opened them, gaze scanning your whole body before settling on your cunt; you were sure he could see it pulsing as you got closer and closer, you knew he was imagining how it would feel. You only spared a brief glimpse at his cock, bobbing between his legs, and wished you could just slip it in you now and come while it stretched you out.

But that wasn’t what he was here for, sadly, and you were sure you were the only being truly denied of your desires, despite how it probably seemed from the outside.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, numbness starting to tingle in your legs as your orgasm built up quicker than even you expected. “I’m coming— James, I’m coming, oh, fuck… right there— yes!”

A gush of heat warmed your cunt at the same time that shocks ran up your spine and down your limbs; you could feel your legs shaking, and you knew he could, too.

It got so intense for a second that you had to pull the vibrator away, though you didn’t stop coming until a few moments later, eyes falling shut without you meaning for them to.

You actually laughed a bit, breathlessly, as you turned the vibe off and set it aside, although you weren’t sure exactly what was supposed to be funny about this per se. When you opened your eyes, you saw James looking down and looking positively defeated. But he looked tense, too, and you sat up on your wobbly legs to get closer to his face.

“Relax, James,” you told him firmly as you examined him.

“I— I can’t,” he whispered.

“Why not?”

“I’ll come.”

Nothing could fight your wide grin anymore, not when you heard that. “Oh, baby… are you about to come without even being touched? Is that how much you liked watching Mistress come?”

He nodded, ever so slightly, and you laughed. Not quite a mocking laugh, moreso impressed. Prideful, even. You leaned in to give a wet kiss to his neck, licking over his pulse as he shivered violently.

“That’s my good boy,” you whispered against his skin. He whined and you cooed soothingly right away, “oh I know, I know. It’s so unfair, isn’t it? Mistress gets to come and you don’t…”

“Please,” he stammered, “I’m so close, let me come, please.”

“But I don’t wanna see you come, baby— I wanna see you cry.”

You started to slide your hand down his chest and he jumped up to attention as he tried to squirm away. “No, please, don’t— don’t touch my cock, not if I can’t come.”

“You can hold it in, can’t you?” you pouted.

“No, I can’t, I can’t,” he sobbed, watching fearfully as your hand moved down to his stomach and over his hips.

“But I thought you were my good boy,” you frowned, suddenly wrapping your hand tight around his cock as he choked on a gasp.

“Mistress!” he sobbed. “Please, don’t— don’t move your hand, I’ll come.”

"Never fucking tell me what to do," you instructed firmly, just barely stroking as he cried weakly. "I'm gonna touch you however I want and you're not gonna come because you're my good boy, right?"

"No, Mistress, I can't stop it, I'm gonna come— stop, please…"

"You'd better not fucking come," you hissed through your teeth, speeding up your movements and watching his eyes shoot wide open, "you'd better hold it in until I'm done with you."

"I'm trying— please slow down, can't take it—"

You shook your head, tutting disapprovingly. "No, baby, I tell you what you can take."

"Oh— oh god, Mistress, please, please stop, please, I c-can't— fuck!"

You pulled your hand away the second his cock started to flex but it was too late: come was shooting from his swollen tip and painting his chest and stomach. You didn't even wait until he was done to backhand him across the face.

"I'm sorry!" he yelled. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't help it…"

You softened slightly when you heard his broken voice, saw the desperation and fear on his face— it was real, more real than the fake ‘no’s and the encouraging pleas for mercy. "Baby, it's okay, you tried so hard," you soothed instantly.

Hope filled his eyes just as much as tears as he looked up at you. "Am I still your good boy?"

"Always," you smiled, caressing his face where it was already turning red from your slap.

You reached down and caressed his cock with the back of your fingers, watching it flex weakly.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?”

His lip twitched, almost like a wince. “Do we… do we have to stop?”

You quickly glanced at the clock. “Um, no,” you mumbled, “we still have time. Just tell me what you want.”

“I wanna watch you come again…” he admitted softly. “Is… is that okay?”

Although you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, you were still surprised. “Yeah, sure.”

“But… but closer this time,” he added, “not so far away.”

You were literally laying on top of him, how did that count as far away?

“I wanna see your face,” he clarified.

“Okay,” you nodded, deciding to indulge him. It was sort of like aftercare, except that this wasn’t exactly the ‘after’ part yet.

On your knees beside where he was leaning back against the headboard, you slipped your hand down into the lace panties again, finding your clit still swollen but not too sensitive. A little gasp fell from your lips when you touched it, rubbing it carefully with two fingers while he looked up at your face.

You felt slightly exposed when he watched you this close, and you didn’t know where to look to avoid direct eye contact. Looking at his lips was just a little too tempting, so that wouldn’t work.

“My hands are a little tired,” you explained, “they might cramp up. Maybe I could use your thigh…”

“O-okay,” he nodded, and you removed your fingers from your panties to sit down on the thick muscle of his leg. You felt him tense up under you slightly, and you carefully began to rock your hips until your clit rubbed just right against the inside of your underwear. Surely he could feel how wet you were— actually, you both could hear it, almost a wet clicking-like noise as the soaked lace slid against your skin.

The dynamic shifted slightly, not that you minded it, as he watched you ride him carefully. Just as he couldn’t hide much from you when he was naked and tied up and baring his soul to you in the kinkiest way possible, you couldn’t hide your pleasure from him when he was looking at your face so up-close. You let your hands carefully roam his body, narrowly avoiding the trails of cooling come he’d left on his stomach and chest, until you found his strong shoulders and held onto them for balance.

“Fuck,” you mumbled to yourself, biting your lip as your sore clit throbbed against his hard, muscular thigh.

“Will you… could you kiss me?” he requested quietly, and your heart broke a little bit. You shook your head, and he nodded in understanding.

“I’ll kiss you here,” you offered instead, whispering against his skin before you pressed your lips to his forehead, then his cheek, then his jaw. “Is that better, James?”

“It helps,” he agreed in a sigh.

“I’m close,” you warned quietly, pressing your cheek to his and weaving one hand into his hair. “I’m gonna come again, on your thigh.”

“Let me touch you,” he begged, “just a little, please…”

You nodded, about to reach forward to untie one of his hands, but he snapped the ropes and you had totally forgotten he could do that. He quickly ran his touch all over your body, calloused hands and bound wrists in stark contrast to your soft skin. The metal one was a little cold but it didn’t bother you; the other was almost too hot, and it was like being warmed and cooled all at once.

He ran his fingers down your spine, he gripped one of your shoulders, he rubbed your legs: he did everything he must have been wishing he could do this whole time, even gasping as he ran one hand up your chest and over a cup of your bra. Just as you sensed that he was about to ask if he could touch you there, you nodded and felt his metal hand tug down the red lace and grab your breast— thankfully not very hard, though he did give your nipple a quick pinch which made you gasp.

Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he finally settled his hands on holding your hips, just tight enough to slightly guide your movements as you rocked faster and more desperately. “Please come,” he begged weakly, “Mistress, please… use me.”

It sort of hit you all at once then, like a punch to the gut. Except, you know, a lot more fun than getting punched in the gut.

“James,” you gasped, legs quivering where they straddled his as a new patch of slick soaked the lace (and presumably his thigh as well). He held you tight, kept you moving through it while your fingers tangled in his hair and your mouth fell slack for another, louder moan.

The way his lips moved over your skin, laving your collarbones and pulse point and the innermost corner of your jaw, was positively worshipful; reverent. “Mistress,” he whispered, almost sounding like praise but tinted with awe. Your movements slowed down to a stop and the two of you breathed a sigh together, unintentionally. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

“What for?” you asked, blinking quickly and looking down at him, coming back to reality (though you weren’t quite sure where else it was that you had just been).

“I dunno, everything,” he decided.

“Don’t thank me,” you smiled. “Keep paying me, though.”

He laughed a little, glancing away. “Yeah, and I’ll pay you back for these ropes… sorry."

"No, hey, don't be sorry," you dismissed, getting up off of his leg and standing up to go grab a towel for him. "I'm just sorry we still haven't found anything strong enough to hold you."

"It's fine, they're strong enough to make me stop myself when I want to do something I shouldn't, that's all that really matters."

You nodded to yourself as you dampened the towel and came back to wipe him off.

"I can do that for myself," he reminded you, sounding a bit embarrassed, but you thought it was sweet.

“You just focus on getting those ropes off of yourself,” you decided with a little smile.

#sub!bucky barnes x domme!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut

2K notes · View notes