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ilsanslut · 6 months

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꒷♡꒷ STRESS RELIEF!

♰ featuring: wriothesley [genshin impact]

♰ note: i’m in heat and all i can think about is a stressed and tired wriothesley eating out his pretty gf from the back to relieve his tension.

sypnosis: get you a man who will drown in your pussy and call it “stress relief”! wc: 2.6k content/trigger warning(s): 18+. smut. femme/female bodied!reader. messy pussy-eating. dominant/feral!wriothesley. marking. biting. spanking. squirting. cursing. hand-holding. groping. hair pulling. ꒷꒦

It was almost as though Wriothesley was being crushed under the constant pressure of his job as the warden within the shadowy confines of the Fortress of Meropide. The burden of his obligations bore down on him like the merciless force of the sea that imprisoned them all within the stronghold. When a problem arose or strife broke out among the prisoners, he was the one they all turned to for help. Today, on the other hand, appeared to be the day that he would be pushed to his breaking point. There was a mountain of paperwork that was piled high on top of his desk and seemed to never end; the pipes seemed to trickle and leak indefinitely, necessitating constant repair; the elevators are out of commission for maintenance, forcing everyone to use the forgotten, decrepit, and mildew-smelling stairwell; and, to top it all off, there is a 'Credit Coupon' thief swiping people's credits beneath their noses. And, not to mention, he had been so backed up with dealing with everyone else’s problems that he had already missed his afternoon tea.

Anyone near could feel the ominous aura radiating off of the iron doors of his office.

Though, amidst the chaos and tension, one beacon of solace shone through—you. His light in the darkness. The one thing keeping him sane.

Your warm smile and unwavering support were the calming forces that held the key to unlocking his cold heart. He craved the comforting words you spoke, the softness of your touch, and the calm you provided amidst the chaos of everyday life. You turned into a haven for him—a haven from the relentless pressure that felt like it would swallow him.

Which is exactly why you weren’t surprised when a guard came to you while you were aiding Sigewinne with a patient, informing you that the Duke requested your presence in his office immediately. Lunch was usually shared by the two of you, but you expected that he would be too overwhelmed with work to remember to eat, let alone take a break, given everything he has been going through. The two guards outside his office gave you a pitying glance as you got closer, understanding that things were not good. Nevertheless, they let you cross the bridge and into his office. You went in, and the first thing you saw was Wriothesley sitting on the bottom two steps, as if he were waiting for you. You noticed that his tie was unkempt, his jacket was completely abandoned, and his hair had a disheveled tousle that suggested he had either been tugging or running his hands through it for at least a while. That, and it was impossible to ignore the worn-out look in his faded hues.

But as soon as your eyes met, his worn-out expression changed to something strange but familiar—something you had seen on many sultry nights spent by yourself with him in the past. His eyes were fixed on you, freezing you in place with an indisputable lust, a carnal hunger, and a burning desire. Pushing himself up from the steps, he moved toward you with calculated, deliberate steps, each one more heavy than the last, like a beast cornering its prey, his heavy steel boots clinking against the copper floors. Soon, he was towering over you, hands twitching at his sides as though he were refraining from tearing you apart where you stood.

“You look good.” You blurted, swallowing thickly in your throat, as you were cornered against the heavy steel of his office’s door.

He chuckled, throaty and sultry, as his hand met your waist, the other one coming to rest it’s forearm above your head as he caged you between the door and his muscular frame, “Yeah?”

His casual drawl had your knees going weak, threatening to buckle beneath you while his thumb rubbed slow, salacious circles into your hip. “I think I’ve been better.”

You shrugged nonchalantly with an indifferent hum, raising your hands to trail absentminedly over his large chest that bulged through his dress shirt, finally coming to toy with his tie. “Mhm. You missed lunch today, you know.”

“Did I?” His voice was husky—deep, the subtle rumble of his baritone voice going straight to your core causing your thighs to squeeze against one another—an action that didn’t go unnoticed by Wriothesley, who’s palms grew hungry on you, manuvering behind you to grope thick handfuls of your rear shamelessly. “I’ve been so swamped with work that it must’ve slipped my mind. But . . . I’m sure you understand, right, baby?” His arm that was poised above your head lowered, his partially gloved thumb stroking at the supple flesh of your cheek. “Why don’t you let me make it up to you, yeah? . . . I have an idea that will make us both happy.”

You had an idea as to what he was alluding to, but nonetheless, you nodded with a hum of agreement. This made Wriothesley smirk in response, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear so that he may lean in and press a kiss to your temple.

“Turn around.”

His dominant undertone left little room for argument as you did what he asked, turning around so that you were facing the metal door of his office. Without another moment's hesitation, you felt yourself pushed against it, your body pinned against Wriothesley's heated form with your cheek smushed against the cold metal face of the door. His body pressed firmly against yours, and you felt something unmistakable grinding into your ass, all the while his sharp canines drug themselves up your neck, a silent warning to stay put.

And you did.

Hot, sloppy kisses trailed themselves down the back of your neck as greedy palms groped and squeezed at your body wherever they could reach—almost as though they were attempting to alleviate tension with every heated touch. Sensing his descent, you eventually heard him drop to his knees behind you, his gloved hands reaching up to lift your skirt and turn it over to expose your plump, pliant rear. A growl, something animalistic and ravenous, came from the back of his throat, and one of those large palms rose for a split second before slapping your right cheek, making you squeal and making Wriothesley laugh.

“Careful, Y/N.” He chided, using his palms to massage the abused flesh as an imprint of his hand—ringed fingers and all—slowly began to appear on your ass. “This door may be thick, but this chamber echos. You don’t want the guards and—Gods know who else—hearing you on the other side, do you~?”

You felt your face heat up against the frigid door’s surface, now acutely aware of the silence on the other side, which meant his guards were now undoubtedly listening. Nonetheless, you nodded, casting a shy glance over your shoulder to your lover, who was already gazing up at you with half-lidded eyes and that salacious smirk on his face that just made your knees go weak and your folds gush with arousal.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that though,” He stated nonchalantly, leaning over to press a soft kiss against your ass as sinful digits reached up to peel your already soaked panties down your thighs until they pooled at your ankles. Wriothesley groaned inwardly, his pupils blown, as he used his thumbs to spread you apart in all your glory, admiring how your folds glistened in the dim lights of the lower floor of his office. “*I can’t promise that I’ll be going easy on you either, baby.”

Without saying another word, his hands reached out and took firm hold of both your cheeks, spreading them wide before plunging straight into your dripping folds. Immediately, your knees were buckling beneath you as a pleasured mewl escaped your lips, your nails dragging against the metal surface in an attempt to find purchase. With his hands leaving your ass to wrap around the front of your thighs, his tongue was unrelenting as it ruthlessly claimed every inch of your pussy to himself, drawing you closer to him so he could continue to devour you. His tongue was hot, heavy, and drooling as it spread you wide open, encircling your clit, and slurping up whatever delicious goodness you had to offer. His nose pressed deep into your wetness, drowning in your depths, but he did not seem to care in the slightest. He wanted more—craved more—and one thing about Wriothesley was that he was a man who got what he wanted.

His tongue and ravenous lips wrapped around your tender nub and sucked away like a starving man enjoying the sweetest nectar of life, leaving you a moaning mess above him and unable to stop your hips from moving on their own as you practically fucked yourself against his face. You didn’t care if the guards—or anyone else, for that matter—heard you. All you could focus on was how his sweltering and deft mouth had you practically creaming onto his selfish brims already.

“Wrio~!” You keened, nearly losing your footing had it not been for Wriothesley keeping you firmly in place by his grip. “I-I can’t! I-It’s too much!” You whimpered just as another cry drew from your lips from a jolt of pleasure from your nethers.

In response, you felt another sharp spank rain down on your ass, and Wriothesley finally withdrew, but only so that he could snarl out, “You can and you will. Fucking take it, Y/N.” He was breathless, panting—truly, a man starved in his most primal state.

He pulled away momentarily, strings of your arousal clinging to the lower half of his face, which was glistening in your translucent juices, to turn to your inner thighs. His jaw widened before clamping down harshly on your once supple flesh, biting and sucking the blood to it’s surface to leave furious marks in his wake.

“Wriothesley!” You wept with delight and surprise at the lewd action that made your folds rub together, and you were unable to ignore the disgustingly lewd squelching sound that came from your cunt.

He repeated the same action, this time on your ass cheek, taking the pliant flesh between his teeth and delivering yet another primal bite to your soft skin, effectively marking you. “Shit, Y/N.” His heated breath wafted over your clit, making you clench around nothing as he huffed and panted like a mutt against your thigh, an action that your attentive lover obviously noticed. “The things you do to me . . .~”

Without saying anything more, he plunged back into you, even more intense than before. With his deft fingers reaching around your front and rubbing quick, merciless circles onto your clit, he was aiming at his sole target, your sopping hole. Pushing his tongue in and out of your wetness, he slurped every last drop of your sweet juices onto his tongue. He was milking you like a machine—using your clit as the trigger to release more and more of your translucent fluids onto his tongue, which he rapaciously gluped down. All the while, your toes curled in your shoes, and as every one of his hot, heavy pants exhaled through his nose, you were able to feel it against your pretty asshole.

“Wrio, wrio, baby, please! R-Right there, I-I’m gonna . .” Your hasty pleas were cut off, your hand reaching back to tangle itself into your boyfriend’s smokey locks, holding him in place as you basically rode his tongue.

You felt him chuckling against your folds before you heard him, unable to stop the sharp cry that escaped you from the sudden vibration. His hand left your clit, however, it was soon replaced with his mouth in favor of meeting your hand with his own. He pried your death grip from his locks, intertwining his fingers with your own as his head shook back and forth between your thighs. His lips suckled away at you in such an unforgiving way that it made your head spin and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Anyone within the immediate vicinity could definitely hear the unabashed slurping and squleching sounds emanating from his efforts as they reverberated through his office's chambers.

He took your hand in his and massaged calming circles around your knuckles until you finally came undone in front of him, unable to contain your overwhelming euphoria. A series of cries and mewls left your lips, leaving you breathless as your juices came flooding out of you, drenching your lover’s face and attire in a torrent, which he happily gulped down. Had it not been for his grip on your frame, you most definitely would’ve collapsed, but he held you firmly against him, even using his face to support your weight at one point like your own personal seat—because it was. After all, he was yours just as much as you were his, and he’d be damned if anything tried to change that.

His hurried movements subsided during your high, his tongue now languidly stroking your folds to carry you through your blissful daze; still, you could not control your hips from lurching each time he touched your tender, pulsating nub. Before long, he began to back off, giving you some leverage and giving himself space to finally breathe. His hot breath wafted against your behind, his chest rising and falling with each breath, finally being kind enough to himself to give him the sweet, sweet oxygen his lungs had been begging for.

Slowly, he rose from behind you, your half-lidded gaze meeting his own through the tears that formed on your lash line, which he wiped away with a swipe of his thumb.

“Y’still with me, pretty?” He whispered in a honeyed drawl, placing a soft kiss against your shoulder as the hand that was holding your own moved to your bicep to rub soothing circles along your arm.

You nodded, albeit weakly, still recovering from the mind-shattering orgasm he had just put you through.

“Y’feel better now, Wrio?”

He responded with a hearty chuckle, rolling his neck in a tantilizing way that exposed his throbbing Adam’s apple and scarred throat. His gaze met your own again, this time with a familiar spark burning behind his dusky hues, “Ahh, a’litte bit.”

He leaned over you once again, his forearm resting above your head as his chest pressed against your back. You gasped, your hips jolting as you felt his rock-hard bulge pressing against you, just barely managing to graze your sopping folds.

“Still feeling a little ‘tense’ here . . . but you’d be willing to help me out,” He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. Although you couldn’t see him, you could practically feel the smirk beaming from his stupidly handsome face.

“Right, baby?”

Oh, he was going to be the death of you someday.

#genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #wriothesley #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x reader #genshin wriothesley #wriothesley headcanons #wriothesley imagines #vampiiebitez

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theprissythumbelina · 4 months

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So you want to write about horses.

Part 2 now out!

Or you're writing and horses show up. Or its a pre-industrial fantasy and your characters have to get somewhere. Or you have a faint idea of your MC's love interest showing up on a white stallion.

Whatever the cause, you're writing, and a horse appears. But you know nothing about horses. I can help.

This is a horse. Horses come in many sizes.

^ Big Jake, a Belgian Draft horse, and a roughly 5 foot woman for scale.

1 hand = 4 inches = 10.16 cm

Once a horse is smaller than about 14.2hh, it is generally considered a pony. In the modern day, ponies are not considered suitable for adult riders due to weight and height issues. Some pony breeds, such as Welsh, Fjords, ect. are known for being sturdy, and can more easily carry adult sized humans. Miniature horses should never be ridden by adults.

^The only suitable 'riding' a miniature horse should do

The above graphic mentions that horses are measured from the top of the withers, not the top of the head. But, what are withers?

The withers are where the horse's shoulders meet the spine, and the neck becomes the back. Withers are incredibly important for saddle placement, as a badly placed saddle in this area can prevent a horse from moving its legs properly, cause a large amount of pain, and even damage a horse's spine. Speaking of spines, this is a horse skeleton, with the withers pointed out.

Horses have four legs. Horses cannot have any fewer than four legs. They are obligate quadrupeds. This is, in part, due to their weight, as well as the construction of their legs and hooves. This is to say, that while cats, dogs, and other animals can be amputees, a horse, short of some incredible magic solution, cannot. Even a broken leg bone will cause a huge amount of problems, as all of the weight that leg would usually hold must be shifted to the other feet, and this causes a condition called laminitis, where the tissue that holds together the hoof and the toe bone becomes inflamed, and begins to separate. Once this happens, the hoof tissue dies from lack of blood, and the bone begins to rotate. This is extremely painful for the horse, and so often the best solution for a horse with a broken leg is to be spared that pain. Famous American racehorse Barbaro experienced a complex broken bone, which began to heal fine, but complications from laminitis in two of his other legs caused him to be put down. This is why media will almost always show a horse with a broken or injured leg being 'taken care of'.

^Barbaro, in his prime. Even the best veterinary medicine couldn't save him.

Now, racehorses like Barbaro are moving at the fastest speed and the fastest gait of the horse, the gallop. The patterns that horses move their feet are referred to as gaits, with most horses having four, with some breeds having five or more.

The first gait and the slowest is the walk. In the walk, all four feet move independently, which leads it to be called a four-beat gait, as the footfalls make a sort of drumbeat on the ground.

The next gait is the trot, a two beat gait with diagonal pairs of legs moving together.

^Diagonal pairs marked in red and blue

The trot is a very bouncy experience for the rider, and can be uncomfortable. Some riders will rise and fall with a pair of diagonal legs, called a posting trot, some will stand in their stirrups, called a two-point or jump position, and some will sit the trot, which requires a lot of core strength (seriously, if you want a strong core, screw the gym)

The third gait is the canter, a three-beat gait with a single diagonal pair. This gait is ridden sitting, and feels a lot like going over waves on a jetski. There is a rise, a scoop, and a fall feeling. The canter is also called a lope in Western riding, they are the same gait.

^diagonal pair marked in red

A gallop is sometimes considered a variation on canter, as it is similar save for the legs actually moving in a four-beat pattern. As you can see with the image of Barbaro, all four of his feet are moving in different patterns, at different times, even though the gallop is really a four beat version of the canter. Riders in the gallop rise off the horse's back into a raised position, which allows the horse to use the full length of its spine and musculature to get as much reach and speed as possible. It feels like riding on top of a train barreling down the tracks, at least until your horse takes an unexpected turn and the ground is suddenly the only thing you're riding.

^ I've been there. The trick is to push away and hit the ground rolling, it hurts less that way. And don't land on your head.

That's all for this post. I'll have more when I feel like it, and send me questions if you want to know more about specific things or need a writing question answered

Reblogs welcome and encouraged

@jacqueswriteblrlibrary for wider reach

#writing #writing horses #writer advice #how to write #writing advice #writing help #writeblr #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr community #writers #writerscommunity #horses #basic horse things

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theliteraryarchitect · 2 months

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A Word of Advice About Critique Groups, Beta Readers, and Other Peer-Based Feedback on Your Writing

In my time as a professional editor, I've had many writers come to me with stories they've been trying to improve based on suggestions from critique groups, beta readers, or other non-professional feedback sources (friends, family, etc.). The writers are often frustrated because they don't agree with the feedback, they can't make sense of the comments they've gotten, or they've tried their best to implement the suggestions but now they've made a big mess of things and don't know where to go from here.

If this happens to you, you're not alone. Here's the deal.

Readers and beginning writers are great at sniffing out problems, but they can be terrible at recommending solutions. For that reason, critique groups can be a disastrous place for beginning writers to get advice.

Here's a good metaphor. Imagine you don’t know the first thing about cars. Someone tells you, “There’s oil leaking onto the driveway. You should cover the car with a giant garbage bag.” Alarmed, you oblige, only to be told the next day that “now the car smells like burning plastic and I can’t see out the windows.”

A mechanic would’ve listened to the critic’s complaint and come up with their own solution to the leaking oil, ignoring the amateur’s ridiculous idea, because they know how to fix cars and can use their skills to investigate symptoms and find the correct solution.

Critique groups actually aren’t bad places for experienced writers, because they can listen to the criticism, interpret it, and come up with their own remedies to the problems readers are complaining about. Beginning writers, on the other hand, can end up digging themselves into a deeper hole.

There's a great Neil Gaiman quote about this very conundrum:

Remember: when people tell you something’s wrong or doesn’t work for them, they are almost always right. When they tell you exactly what they think is wrong and how to fix it, they are almost always wrong.

So what to do?

First, try to investigate the reader's complaint and come up with your own solution, instead of taking their solution to the problem. Sometimes, in the end, the reader's solution was exactly right, which is lovely, but don't count on it. Do your own detective work.

Second, take everything you hear with a huge grain of salt, and run the numbers. Are 9 out of 10 readers complaining about your rushed ending? It's probably worth investigating. Does nobody have an issue with your abrasive antagonist except your cozy mystery-loving uncle? Then you might not need to worry about it.

Third, give everything you hear a gut check. Does the criticism, while painful, ring true? Or does it seem really off-base to you? Let the feedback sit for a week or so while you chill out. You might find you're less sensitive and open to what's been said after a little more time has passed.

Lastly, consider getting professional feedback on your writing. Part of my job as an editor is to listen to previous feedback the writer has gotten, figure out whether the readers were tracking the scent of legitimate problems, and offer the writer more coherent solutions. Of course, some professional editors aren't very good at this, just like some non-professional readers are amazing at it, so hiring someone isn't a guarantee. But editors usually have more experience taking a look under the hood and giving writers sound mechanical advice about their work, rather than spouting ideas off the top of their head that only add to the writer's confusion.

Hope this helps!

#writeblr #writing advice #op #fiction

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wlntrsldler · 2 months

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poisoned mercury | just friends

a/n: boys have debrief sessions too! a lot of pining! lovers who are blind! yippeeee!

series masterlist | previous | next

vii. just friends by virginia to vegas

“yo, castellan!”

luke was lying on your bed, head falling off the corner as he watched you scribble things down in your notebook on your desk. he’s been hanging around in your room more often. your bed was much comfier than his own, with a fluffy white blanket, silk sheets, and a million pillows that mostly end up on the floor when you go to bed. he cringes when he thinks of his usual navy, polyester sheets on his bed, and piles of scrap paper with wasted lyrics scattered around his floor.

the pictures you took at the photobooth were now taped with the rest of the decorations on your wall. you placed it front and center, giving him the perfect view of it from where he was. the boys had asked him about the sudden change in attitude between the two of you, but he never gave many details about what happened the night the two of you disappeared.

they cornered him once on his way to the gym, “what gives, luke? when did you and y/n get so close?”

luke shrugged, “i don’t kiss and tell.”

“you kissed?!”

“well, no.”

“dude.”

that was that. luke wasn’t going to share anything with them, partly because he didn’t know if there was anything to share. yeah, you two were hanging out a lot more now. you were touchier with him, a hand on his arm (he tried not to flex whenever you did that but it’s like muscle memory for him to do so.), a leg on top of his own when you sat beside him, a lingering touch on his back when you said goodbye. you were also more open to him touching you, a hand around your waist while you smoked together, holding your hand underneath tables, a hand on your thigh as you engaged in conversations with the group. but he didn’t know if he was reading into things. maybe you were just like this with everyone. he’d only ever seen you with clarisse and she wasn’t a very touchy person, so that didn’t help much. and you didn’t have many other people you were close to at camp for him to base anything on.

luke sat up on your bed, “in here!”

travis, connor, and chris popped their heads into your room, no doubt thinking of new ways to tease luke about his crush on you. they said hello to you and motioned for luke to follow them into travis’ room.

luke groaned, not wanting to leave you, but obliged. he got up and walked over to you, squeezing your upper arm, “i’ll be right back.”

“m’kay,” you replied, sending him a smile. you closed your notebook as he peeked over your shoulder, “you coming to the party tonight?”

he smiled, “wouldn’t miss it.”

the three boys were sitting around travis’ computer when he walked in. connor motioned for him to shut the door when he arrived. oh, luke thought, this is a band intervention. this only happened once before when connor was going through a tough time and he was taking his anger out on everybody. he’d just broken up with his girlfriend because long distance got to them and it seemed like he was upset at everyone he encountered. not the best situation to be in when they were all forced to live with each other in a small tour bus and hotel rooms.

“what’s going on?” luke asked, leaning against the door. “you guys look serious.”

“because this is a serious issue,” connor said, playing with his key ring, “we need to show you something.”

“well, we need you to hear something,” chris chimed in, motioning for travis to cue up something on his computer. “so this thing with y/n… is it serious?”

luke felt like he was put on the spot. he didn’t know how to answer that question. were you serious? what were you anyway? he didn’t know how to categorize what the two of you were doing. he felt like he was stuck in a limbo with you, maybe something more than friends but not anything more than that? it didn’t make sense when he tried to rationalize it. it kept him up more nights than he’d like to admit. but he let you call the shots. he didn’t want to scare you off.

luke’s jaw ticked, “i don’t know if we’re anything.”

“dude,” travis groaned, “come on. you’re something. i’ve never seen you act like this since…”

“ever,” chris finished travis’ sentence for him. he sat beside connor on travis’ bed, “i’ve known you for years, luke, and this is not something i’ve ever seen before.”

luke sighed, “look, i know you guys said not to fuck up our relationship with mr. d and it’s really not my intention to, but i dunno, guys. she’s just so–”

“i’m gonna stop you right there before wax on and on about how great y/n is,” travis cut off. “you do realize that we’re not mad that you have feelings for her, right?”

that caught luke by surprise. he’d been so focused on trying to figure out what the two of you were that he was kind of relieved to know where his friends stood on the situation. sure, he wasn’t the happiest knowing that his friends disapproved, but at least he didn’t have to guess about what they thought of it, but now he was more confused than ever.

“luke, man, we just want what’s best for you,” connor said, shrugging his shoulders. “did it have to be the daughter of the man who decides if we get a contract extension and the man who dictates the trajectory of our career? no, but we can’t stop the two of you from whatever it is you’re doing. plus, we like y/n.”

“i’m confused,” luke vocalized, walking over to the three of them, “if this is not what that’s about, what’s the point of the intervention?”

travis beamed, twirling in his computer chair to dig up some files, “we wrote a song.”

“you wrote a song?”

“yeah, we just recorded it without you because you’re too busy sending y/n googly eyes,” connor snickered, “wanna hear it?”

luke nodded, pulling up travis’ drum seat, “absolutely.”

“before we play it,” chris prefaced, “we mean these words in the most loving way possible.”

“is this fucking song about me?” luke asked, gobsmacked. he let out a laugh, understanding why they felt the need to call for an intervention, “you guys suck.”

“maybe,” travis smirked, clicking on an audio file, “but the song doesn’t.”

the song began with drums, followed by the sound of connor playing guitar. the bass came in shortly after with the three of them doing background vocals. travis seemed to take the lead on main vocals. luke felt connor tap his shoulder, sliding him a piece of paper with the lyrics to the song.

luke couldn’t deny it– the song was good. he looked down at the page, cheeks turning red as he read the words. the paper had three distinct handwritings, showing that this song was definitely a group effort. this was co-signed by the three of them.

“stop making up your excuses

call her up, tell her you forgot something

it's worth more than you are thinking

don't be a fool, tell her you think she's cool

stop waiting for a fairy tale to

take you away, don't wait for someday

she's thinking the same thing as you

don't be afraid, dreams aren't found they're made

'cause you've only got one chance

you've only got one chance

kiss her you fool.”

luke put his head in his hands, laughing uncontrollably as the song continued. the three boys laughed along with him, head bopping to the instrumentals of the song. it was insanely catchy. luke knew instantly that this song would be a fan favorite. it was definitely going on their second album.

as the song faded off, luke tossed the paper to travis, “you motherfuckers. did you write a song to try to convince me to make a move?”

chris looked at him with a straight face, “duh.”

“i really thought this was gonna be a whole thing,” luke smacked travis’ leg, shaking his head, “whole time you guys just wanted the dirt on me and y/n.”

“okay, here’s the thing, luke– there is no dirt to share!” connor whined. the three of them weren’t nosy per se, but they were curious. they wanted to know what developed between you and luke. he’d never been one to shy away from talking about his romantic interests, but this time, with you, it was like luke was suddenly a square.

they often saw you guys giggling with each other, sharing secret looks that you thought the rest of them wouldn’t notice, hands on each other at every possible moment. it was quite ridiculous, actually. luke didn’t need to have a finger hooked on your belt loop while you made cereal in the morning nor did you have to have the string of his hoodie wrapped around your finger when you were lying on him on the couch.

they’d tried to ask him about it many times, but luke wouldn’t budge. they didn’t need to know everything, but it became clear to them that luke’s silence wasn’t because he was keeping secrets from the band, but because nothing had happened between the two of you that warranted a conversation. it was like you two were playing a sick game with each other, pushing the envelope just far enough to avoid a conversation about what you were, but subjecting everyone around you to the brutal torture of watching you fall for each other without making a move.

okay, so they were nosy. sue them.

“i don’t know what to tell you guys,” luke got up from his seat, rubbing his neck, “i just– i’m scared that if i make a move, it’ll fuck things up between us.”

“believe me when i say this,” chris got up, placing his hands on luke’s shoulders, “you aren’t going to fuck anything up. trust me.”

he cocked an eyebrow, “and you know this, how?”

chris’ face flushed as he removed his hands from luke and stuffed them in his front pockets. he looked down at his feet, shyly, “clarisse told me.”

luke’s eyebrows raised, eyes twinkling with fondness, “you guys are so focused on me, but we need to talk about chris and clarisse!”

chris’ face morphed into a gigantic smile at the sound of his name next to clarisse’s. luke shoved him, motioning for him to start talking, while the stolls leaned in, locked in to listen to chris’ perspective. luke took his spot next to connor, giving chris the floor.

chris scratched the back of his head, red creeping down his neck, “i really like her…”

–

when you mentioned that there was a party happening, luke didn’t realize that it was a party just for the older campers. imagine his surprise when he walked into the woods with chris in tow to find lee fletcher with his entire dj set up blasting IDGAF by drake and bottles of liquor strewn about on a picnic table.

“hey, you see y/n or clarisse yet?” chris asked, looking around. luke didn’t comment on how chris seemed to spray a bit more of his cologne on his clothes tonight and how he hogged their bathroom to fix his hair a million times. they were late to the gathering because of chris. luke thought it was adorable how chris got so nervous around the girls he liked.

“nah, sorry man,” luke pat chris’ back, “don’t be so nervous. you’ll be fine.”

chris scoffed, fixing the pearl necklace around his neck, “easy for you to say, castellan.”

“chris,” luke stood in front of him, blocking his view of the party, “clarisse likes you too, alright? don’t stress.”

“no, i know she does,” the boy replied, shaking his head. he peered over luke’s shoulder to look for clarisse again. “she showed me what she was wearing for tonight and i know she’s gonna look so pretty. do you think i look okay?”

“you look good, rodriguez,” he chuckled, moving to chris’ side. the interaction brought luke back to high school, back when chris went on his first date with a girl from their chemistry class, adrianna. they’d been paired up to do a lab project together and it was the first time luke saw chris become a nervous mess. the two of them rode around on their bikes going to four different grocery stores to find the best bouquet of flowers for adrianna. in the end, they settled for an arrangement of poppies and sunflowers. adrianna loved it and they went on to date for a few months before she broke it off with him when he started to take music seriously.

luke always thought that chris was a better man than he was. chris never harbored any ill feelings towards adrianna, stating that the rockstar’s girlfriend life was just not something she saw herself in. chris said that adrianna wanted to be a teacher and had her own dreams she wanted to follow. as much as chris liked the girl, he took the breakup pretty well. even if he was younger than luke, he was always more mature than him, emotionally anyway.

“i think i see her,” chris said, fixing his shirt for the umpteenth time. “y/n is there too.”

luke’s eyes quickly darted to where chris was looking. you and clarisse were sitting on another picnic table, feet resting comfortably on the benches. beside you was a red cooler with selzters and beers perched on top of ice packs. you were laughing at something clarisse said, talking to two older, male campers who didn’t hide their attempts to check the two of you out.

luke couldn’t blame them. the two of you did look good. you were wearing jeans that hugged your curves perfectly with a long-sleeve off-the-shoulder black top. your hair was thrown behind your back, two small braids on either side of your head, and small gold hoops hanging from your ears. in the orange glow of the campfire not too far away, luke could see the hint of lip gloss on your lips. you wore your black platform converses and luke squinted to see if his little doodle on the side of the rubber was still there.

he tilted his head in your direction to signal chris to start walking towards the both of you. as he got closer, a warmth spread inside his chest when he saw his familiar handwriting on your shoe. in silver sharpie, luke wrote ‘5 star’ with an atrocious attempt at a star on the left shoe.

you two were in your room when he had the idea. he didn’t notice it before but you wrote little things on each of your shoes. you told him a story about a house party you went to years ago where you’d accidentally taken the wrong left shoe on your way out the door. you’d all taken off your shoes to jump into the pool and left a pile of shoes by the living room, stacked on top of each other. in the rush of things, you grabbed a pair of vans and slipped them on, only to realize when you got home that the left shoe was a different size than the right. since then, you always customized your shoes in small ways to make it easier for you to find them.

you’d never wore your converses before so you didn’t get to do anything to them yet. luke was happy to help you continue your tradition. he also wanted to leave you a reminder of him whenever you wore the shoes. a small memento of your time with him at camp.

“five star,” luke called as he approached you. the four of you turned your heads at the sound of his voice. the two boys paled at the sight of two members of poisoned mercury and scurried away before he and chris could even grab a beer from the cooler.

you unseriously rolled your eyes, taking a sip from the can in your hand, as you watched the two boys you and clarisse were talking to before leave in a hurry. not good for luke’s ego, you thought, though you were glad the boys left. you were on your sixteenth (and yes, you were counting) ‘oh really?’ with the boy who only seemed to talk of himself.

“castellan,” you raised your can to him in a greeting.

luke moved the cooler away from you, snagging the last bud light in it, before sitting beside you. clarisse and chris got to talking, choosing to move to another area away from the noise and left the two of you alone.

“who was that?”

“hm?” you asked, genuinely forgetting that you were talking to someone else before he got there. you were focused on the boy beside you now. he was wearing a red flannel, bunched up around his elbows, with a white shirt underneath. his black jeans complimented the silver jewelry he always wore. he looked good. you blinked, “oh, i don’t know. james or justin, or something.”

luke cracked open his beer, “you need to start remembering people’s names.”

“i remember the ones that matter,” you dismissed, turning to face him. the small studs on his ears were illuminated under the dim light. “you showed up.”

“told you i would,” luke smirked, bumping your knee with his, “you look good.”

“thank you,” you squeaked out, looking down to play with the ring on your index finger. luke’s eyes looked down at your hand, a wave of fondness crashing over him. “you do too.”

he grabbed your hand, running a finger over the silver metal, “is that my ring?”

your eyes widened, “oh, yeah. sorry you left it in my room and i wore it to remind myself to give it back to you.”

“keep it,” he said, keeping his hand on yours, “i have so many i didn’t even realize it was gone.”

that was a lie. the barbed wire ring was in his daily rotation. he always wore it on his ring finger along with his other two rings. he even had a ring tan that matched it. he’d been looking for it everywhere for days, but decided it was a lost cause when he couldn’t find it in time for the party. luke figured he could just buy another one, but now knowing that you had it, he didn’t feel the need to anymore. it was safe with you.

“what did the boys want earlier?”

“oh, nothing,” luke flushed remembering the song they played for him a few hours ago. the four of them got caught up talking for hours that by the time they ran out of things to say, it was nearly time to get ready for the party. the stolls headed out earlier, too impatient to wait for chris as he flailed around trying to find the perfect outfit for clarisse, and luke stayed back to wait for him. he didn’t see you after he left your room, too preoccupied with helping his best friend.

you narrowed your eyes, “didn’t seem like nothing.”

“well, they wrote a song and wanted me to hear it.” luke could never hide anything from you, not like he wanted to anyway. there was nothing he wanted to keep from you, except how he felt about you. but that was more of a complicated situation.

“i wanna hear it,” you said, excitement in your voice.

“absolutely not,” luke scoffed, playfully. he was not ready for you to hear that song. he knew you’d connect the dots quickly. “soon, though. maybe.”

“come on, castellan,” you droned, placing your seltzer on the table. “i wanna hear it.”

“i told you, soon, five star. s’not ready yet.”

“and? what if i wanna hear it unfinished?”

“nah, you’ll get to hear it when it’s perfect,” the corners of his lips quirked up into a smile, “gotta impress you.”

in the morning, you were going to blame the alcohol in your system, although you had been sipping on the same seltzer since you arrived. the drink tasted watered down and dull. it didn’t really have an effect on you at all, no red flush on your cheeks, no dizziness in your mind. but for now, you were going to blame it. perhaps, it was a placebo effect of some sort, encouraging you to be bolder with luke. “you always impress me, pretty boy.”

luke was glad that the beat dropped the same time he choked on his drink, the liquid getting stuck in his throat as the pet name left your lips. he played it off, clearing his throat as he looked at you. your lips were parted slightly, the ghost of the words you said prior still lingering in the air. your voice echoed in his head. you always impress me, pretty boy.

you were looking at him with hooded eyes, something foreign dancing in your irises. a dare, maybe, for him to succumb to you and let you hear the song he was speaking of. or maybe for him to do something else, something that crossed the line of friendship that he’d been tip-toeing around for weeks. is it too far to press his lips against yours right now? the voices of his band mates rang in his ears, begging him to finally make a move.

your lips were inviting. the remnants of your lip gloss was smudged haphazardly on your bottom lip, sparkles of glitter catching his eye. you were closer to him now, too, thighs pressed against his own, breath fanning over his face. it drove him wild how you were looking at him, patiently waiting for him to do something.

he decided against it. it took all his willpower not to kiss you then, but he didn’t want the moment to be tainted by the watching eyes that surrounded the two of you. he knew you didn’t like the spotlight, preferred to have your private business safely tucked away just for you, and he respected that. he wanted that too, to only have these moments for himself. what he envisioned with you was his own personal reprieve from the world. he didn’t want to share you.

five star, the girl who had him wrapped around her delicate finger, who teased him relentlessly, who carved a permanent space in his thoughts, who took his breath away with every stolen glance and concealed touch. he shared so much of his life with the world with his music and his status. he’ll be selfish just this once. this was just for him.

luke looked away, sipping the last few drops of his drink. your pull was magnetic. he sighed, voice hoarse, “you’re killing me, five star.”

it amazed you how luke still didn’t realize that he had the same effect on you, though you couldn’t judge him too harshly, you supposed. for the last two months, you’d given him nothing to work with but a roll of your eyes, snide remarks, and feigned nonchalance. you built your walls up too high. from the moment you’d met him at your smoke spot, you knew it would be dangerous for you to be around him, though you didn’t show it then.

an attractive boy who shared your vices, incessant on pushing your buttons undeterred by the fire in your soul, ready to argue back. he had his sarcastic replies that countered your defense mechanism that often left your mind scrambled when you thought about it at night. his proximity to you, living in the same cabin, giving you just enough space to leave you wanting more. you enjoyed your time with luke, much to your premature dismay. your biased perception of musicians was turned on his head the more you spent time with him.

people always told you that you liked a challenge, always searching for something to keep you vigilant, on your toes. and luke castellan, the bastard that he was, was exactly who you needed. he always had something up his sleeve, but never something that could hurt you. you didn’t know if he was even capable of the sorts.

it was easy to see why people were attracted to him. he was easy on the eyes, even if it took you weeks to admit it to yourself. but you pitied the people who didn’t get to know him like this– they’d never understand how it feels to know luke castellan. they’ll only get to know the luke that the tabloids wanted, and he was the furthest thing from it. he was wild and rowdy the way any teenager would be, but with his mom, his band, with you, he was something else entirely.

you were sure that anyone who was lucky enough to know him were unlucky enough to want him because when anyone gets to know luke, there is no denying that they’ll fall for him. and you were teetering dangerously close to the edge.

if gods existed in this world, will they make you one of the lucky ones to experience this? had you done enough good in this life to deserve this? you didn’t know and you were scared to find out, but with the way he was looking at you now, something between longing and tenderness, your patience was wearing thin.

before you could say anything, clarisse, chris, and the stolls walked over to the two of you. chris had his arm around clarisse, sending luke a wide smile.

“we’re ditching the party to grab food by the gas station,” connor explained, “you guys wanna come?”

you looked at luke. you loved your friends, but you didn’t want to be with them right now, not when all you wanted to do was talk to luke. he saw your pleading eyes and shook his head, turning to the group, “nah, i think we’re good here.”

“suit yourself,” travis shrugged, beginning to walk towards the main road. the other three followed, the murmurs of their conversations fading into the night.

luke got up from the table, dusting off his pants, “you wanna head home?”

“yeah,” you followed his actions, taking his outstretched hand to help you off the table. “let’s go home.”

the walk back to your cabin was filled with your usual banter, laughter that you both tried to suppress in fear of getting caught after hours, and excuses to touch each other, playful and teasing, but they lingered longer than what could be deemed as friendship. when you arrived at the cabin, you and luke stood in the living room, both unsure of what happens next.

you paused, scruffing the bottom of your shoes on the cabin floors. you motioned to your room, “this is me.”

he rubbed the back of his neck, every bone in his body begging him not to retire to his own room. “yeah. guess we should get some sleep.”

“yeah, g’night,” you turned around to walk into your room. luke watched as you opened the door, only beginning to walk to his own when he saw you enter. he was so caught up in his head that he didn’t realize the door never closed. it was the sound of your voice that made him turn around. “luke?”

he jerked his head so fast, he was sure he almost got whiplashed. luke’s voice was hushed when he spoke, “what’s up?”

you bit your bottom lip, “do you want to come in?”

his feet took him to you before his mouth could open to give you an answer. he was in front of you in record time, breaths uneven and palms sweaty. you placed your hands flat on his chest, feeling the racing of his heart. he closed his eyes as you wrapped your arms around his neck. when he found the strength to open his eyes, he found your face close to his. his hands found their way to your hips. he cautiously let his lips graze your cheek, placing a soft kiss there. “five star.”

“mhm?” you purred. “what is it luke?”

the sound of your voice like that, breathless and raspy, was enough for him to press his lips against yours. luke felt like his heart was about to burst in his chest when you kissed him back.

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfic

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buckybabesonly · 1 year

Text

Protector

Summary: When Steve gets injured on the field protecting you, Bucky lashes out at you from fear of seeing you in danger, and jealously of Steve’s arms around you.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!Avenger!reader, platonic Steve x Female!Avenger!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff (y'all know we only do happy endings here)

Warnings: Jealous Bucky, Bucky being slightly mean to reader out of over-protectiveness, minor character injury, I’m not very good at writing action scenes I apologize 🙇🏻‍♀️

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: My creative juices are floooowing lately! I have so many ideas saved in my drafts 😭 Please let me know if you liked this one!

"On your feet. Again." Steve’s voice was authoritative, demanding, as per usual. He gestured his hand at you as you lay on your back, skin gleaming with sweat.

You gave him a faux-scowl, the muscles in your legs shaking with exhaustion as you forced yourself to stand, hands bracing themselves on your knees.

"Wait. Need a breather," you said, shaking your head. Your hair was coming loose from your ponytail, and Bucky's fingers itched to neatly sweep the strands back from out of your face.

He watched silently from one side of the room, observing your sparring session with Steve. He was going pretty tough on you, though he told you it was for your own good.

"No breathers out in the field," Steve grunted, tackling you and practically tossing you over his shoulder, but with enough finesse so you landed safely on your butt.

"Hey!" you exclaimed loudly in shock. If you had been looking, you would have seen how Bucky reflexively half-rose from his perch, afraid that you had actually been hurt, until he saw the way you scrunched your nose in annoyance at Steve and bounced back on your feet indignantly.

"I was making a point -" Steve ducked to the side when you launched a fist towards his head, then threw out a sharp roundhouse kick. You just managed to graze the top of his hair, and he laughed jovially.

"Almost. Try again."

Bucky settled back in his seat, feeling slightly uncomfortable as he watched you throw yourself again and again at Steve. Especially when Steve's strong arm encircled your waist, the other one hooking itself under your thigh to throw you onto the ground once more.

He clenched his fist, wishing it was him with his hands on your body instead, and in an entirely different setting.

His excuse for being in the training room was to try and see where your weak spots were and offer you pointers, in hopes that you would improve your hand-to-hand combat. You were an excellent sharpshooter, and could easily defend yourself, but needed to work on your offensive attacks.

Lately, the idea of you attacking someone head on had been making Bucky feel uneasy. Which was ridiculous, since you were part of the team and it was literally your job, but he found that it was affecting his focus out on the field. He felt like he had a constant obligation to look out for you, to protect you.

It seemed like Steve shared the same sentiment. The super soldiers were both oddly protective over you, and it had actually been Steve's idea to up your training in recent months.

The way you moaned as Steve landed a punch in your abdomen made Bucky simultaneously want to rugby tackle his best friend to the ground, and somehow planted sinful thoughts in his head. He knew Steve would never hit you with full-force, however, and made himself to stay put.

"Rogers, I swear one of these days, I'm going to kick your ass," you groaned.

He laughed again, and you took the opportunity to exploit his distraction, using your position on the floor to knock his feet out from under him with surprising force. Your kicked his shins sharply, sending him on his knees, and lunged for him.

You had him on his back for once, finally, and you grinned triumphantly at Bucky. He was mildly perturbed at your position, semi-straddling Steve, but he managed to crack a smile.

Steve finally called it a day half an hour later, leaving you and Bucky alone in the room. You were humming to yourself, stretching out your limbs. Bucky didn’t miss the way you winced slightly.

“Does it hurt?” Bucky asked, tossing you a bottle of water.

“A little, but it’s alright,” you shrugged. You took a sip, eyes sliding over to his form. He was looking particularly handsome today in a pair of form fitting black jeans, heavy boots and his leather jacket zipped up around his torso.

God, this man could be wearing a garbage bag and you would be drooling. From the first day you met him, you had developed a crush on him, hooked by his ruggedly handsome looks and tough exterior. What really made you fall, however, was that surprisingly soft personality hidden underneath. He made you laugh, too, and you loved the way the corners of his eyes creased when he smiled at you. Bucky had easily stolen your heart.

Said heart was continuously fluttering nowadays whenever you were near him, like he was a silly teenage crush. You tried to play it cool.

“So, any tips?”

Soon, you were both grappling at each other playfully, peals of laughter leaving your mouth as you “fought”. Bucky was smiling that darn smile, looking almost childlike as you circled each other.

At some point you ended up on top of him, your hands around his wrists as you pinned them back. He could easily free himself, but he humored you.

“Hah!” you called out.

Bucky’s laughter subsided slowly as he took in the sight of you, panting on top of him. His eyes inadvertently fell to your cleavage, where the swell of your breasts was oh-so-visible from his vantage point, your skimpy tank top doing little to hide your skin.

Mortified, he felt a rush of blood to his groin. He knocked you off swiftly before you could feel anything which would reveal what a pervert he was, coughing loudly to hide his embarassment.

“That’s enough,” he said, surprising you with a change of tone. You felt a little disheartened at the switch-up, confusion settling in.

“Ah, okay,” you said, nodding. He was probably getting tired of your games, knowing how you didn’t like to take everything too seriously. Bucky mumbled something about going to take a shower before he excused himself and left.

Being an Avenger was always going to be life threatening. However, you could think of nothing else you'd rather be doing than fighting alongside your chosen family, trying to make your contribution to the world, even if it meant risking yourself.

You usually considered yourself a solid team player, trusting Steve to make the right call out on the field. Now, you weren't so sure, faintly aware that maybe, just maybe, you had screwed up. Especially in situations like these, lying on concrete with your ears ringing, the metallic taste of blood in your mouth.

Smoke and dust filled your sight. Your mind was scrambled, unable to comprehend what had happened. You couldn't see a thing, but you could feel the pain in your shoulder, and you wondered if you had dislocated it or worse.

The smoke cleared. All of a sudden, Bucky's face appeared, panic clearly written in his eyes.

The pieces were slowly coming together. You suddenly became aware that Steve was lying behind you, shield in hand and positioned above you. You could hear him groaning in mild discomfort. The clanging in your ears were subsiding so you could hear him and Bucky's shouting.

Your disorientation faded, and you realized what had happened. The explosion.

Four S.H.I.E.L.D agents had gone rogue and had secretly been working for HYDRA, who had been spending the past year regaining power and presence. You had been one of the people dispatched to take them down after the team received intel on the location of their base. They had been holed up in an underground bunker beneath an abandoned warehouse, the perfect spot for a group like them.

You weren't even supposed to be in that part of the bunker, but you saw an opportunity to breach their control room, where undoubtedly you would be able to find all sorts of valuable information about what HYDRA was planning, or what terrible projects they had ongoing. Unfortunately, they had been savvier than you thought, and had implemented a safeguard in the event of a security breach.

That safeguard, as it turned out, was explosives.

Steve had found you as soon as he was made aware of what you were doing, and he had appeared no more than 15 seconds before the bombs detonated. If he hadn't been around, you were almost certain you'd be dead.

You barely had time to register Steve's appearance before you suddenly found yourself flying off your feet, Steve a blur of blue as he re-positioned himself to protect you.

"...fuck, will you say something? Are you okay?"

Bucky was screaming in your ear, and you blinked, the haze finally clearing. Alarms were blaring, Steve was back on his feet, scooping you up with ease.

"We need to get back to the Quinjet," you heard Steve bark, and he began sprinting, jumping over rubble with you in his arms, Bucky following close behind.

As soon as you boarded the jet, Steve sat you down and ordered Bucky to tend to you. He was already kneeling at your feet and inspecting your injuries wordlessly. Steve swiftly geared the Quinjet to life, desperate to get them out of the area before anything else went to hell.

"Look at me," Bucky said sharply, his voice rough. You were startled at his tone, his hands brushing your hair back as he inspected your head for any serious injuries. Blood was trickling from your temples, but from what he could tell, they were only shallow cuts. "Where does it hurt?"

"I'm fine," you managed to say faintly, the reality of what had happened slowly sinking in. You had put all of them in danger because of your reckless actions, and Steve had actually been injured because of you. You could see the blood dripping off his fingers as he sat at the console, though from the way he handled himself you knew they could only be minor lacerations.

Your eyes landed on Bucky's face then, scanning him for any signs of injury. He seemed physically unharmed, but his face was bright red and he was shaking with rage as he spoke to you. You were ashamed, knowing that he was furious you put his best friend in danger.

“I told you to stay put,” Bucky snarled, slamming his hand against the back of your seat.

"I - I know," you stuttered, vaguely remembering Bucky's request in your earpiece just moments earlier.

“Why couldn't you just listen? You had to play the fucking hero?"

"Bucky, lay off of her." Steve's warning was stern, and Bucky shot a glare at the back of his head.

"No. She was being stupid," he spat, looking back at you. "What were you thinking? Were you even thinking at all?"

You bristled then, despising his patronizing tone. “You’re one to talk. How many times have you completely gone off script and blindsided us with your decisions?” As soon as the words left your mouth, you knew it was an unfair statement.

He scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't think you realize what could have happened back there."

You looked at Steve again, guilt consuming you. He was focused on operating the jet, and you knew that he hadn't been seriously hurt, but he could have been. Or, worse, Bucky could have been caught in the explosion. He was lucky not to have been there.

"I'm sorry," you began, but Bucky cut you off.

"You need to take this fucking seriously," he snarled. "You went marching in there blindly, and look what happened."

"I thought I might be able to get something useful," you said weakly.

"Look how well that turned out," he said sarcastically. "You blew everything up."

You recoiled, hurt. You wondered if Bucky was actually upset that you had destroyed a valuable chance to get information on HYDRA. Though how were you supposed to know extracting the information would set off literal bombs? You had been acting quickly, wanting to get in and out. Maybe Bucky blamed you for destroying that chance.

"You can be so fucking stupid and selfish," Bucky exclaimed angrily, lashing out in full force. So reckless, doing whatever you wanted to do, without so much as a thought to how much potential harm you could be putting yourself in.

"That's enough," Steve shouted loudly, his voice angry and booming.

You flinched visibly, biting down hard on your lip to stop yourself from snapping back. Or worse, crying. Bucky walked over to the other side of the jet, away from you.

The feeling was awful. Your shoulder was burning, throat in pain from the smoke you had inhaled, and all Bucky had done was shout. It was surprising, how much your feelings hurt at his outburst.

Bucky was as tense as a statue. His mind was racing as he refused to look at you, thinking of all the worst possibilities. His heart felt as if it had literally skipped a beat the moment he saw you lying in the rubble, seconds after he'd heard the explosion and realized he could no longer hear you in his earpiece - there was a chilling moment amidst the action where he really, genuinely believed you had been killed.

Having you act so blasé about it after the fact infuriated him.

You, on the other hand, felt a heavy weight in your chest as you watched Bucky mutter to himself, the muscle in his jaw twitching. You felt so guilty, feeling so...incapable in Steve and Bucky's presence. Steve had been hurt because of you, and Bucky had every right to be mad at you. Nonetheless, his words cut you deeply.

Stupid and selfish.

The rest of the journey back to the compound was tense and silent. Bucky stared at the wall whilst you stared at the ground. As soon as the jet landed, Bucky stood up with full intention of hoisting you up against his chest to take you to the medical wing, but found Steve standing between you and him instead. Like a barrier, as if he wanted to protect you from Bucky's wrath.

"Let's get you checked out," Steve grunted, his arm once again around your damn waist as you stood.

Even though it was neither the place nor the time, jealously instinctively entered Bucky's bloodstream at the way you leaned on Steve. He wanted to be the one to take care of you, dammit, but all he had achieved was make you avoid his stare.

"Get her head checked out whilst you're at it," Bucky barked. "See if you can find out why she lost all her fucking common sense."

Tears sprang to your eyes when Bucky stormed off the jet, heading into the compound first. It hurt you more than you cared to admit that he hadn't even stayed to see if you were alright.

"He didn't mean that," Steve said quietly.

"He did," you retorted, wincing in pain as you experimentally moved your shoulder. "Shit."

"You alright?"

"Dislocated, I think."

Steve helped you to the medical wing, where you were promptly checked and - yep, dislocated shoulder. No other injuries though, thanks to Steve.

"You saved my life," you said gratefully as Steve stood beside you, wiping dried blood from his hands and face. "Thank you. I'm sorry, as well."

Steve's face was kind yet stern as he moved to stand in front of you. "No need to thank me. But yeah, the way you behaved was kind of reckless."

"I know."

He placed a heavy hand on your good shoulder, squeezing gently. "Get some rest, okay?"

"Do you think Bucky hates me?" you asked suddenly, looking up at Steve searchingly. "You know him best. Do you think he hates me now?"

Steve sighed loudly in a way that planted doubt in your mind despite his answer. "No, of course he doesn't hate you."

"I think he's at least annoyed that I risked your life," you mumbled.

"Okay, first of all, I've been in so many explosions that it's just a regular day at the office, now," Steve said, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Secondly, I think he's just annoyed that you risked your life."

You were dubious, thinking that Steve was just trying to placate you. You recalled how Bucky had glared at you before. If he actually cared, surely he wouldn't have just stalked off like that?

“I think my safety was the last thing on his mind.”

"Get some rest," Steve repeated. "Stop overthinking."

You nodded unconvincingly, all while your thoughts continued to be plagued by a certain dark haired, blue eyed man.

"She okay?" Bucky asked Steve the moment he saw him in the hallway just off the medical wing.

"You could ask her yourself, you know," he said, cocking an eyebrow. When Bucky didn't respond, he offered, "Dislocated her shoulder. Few cuts and bruised ribs. Otherwise, she's fine."

Bucky felt himself let go of a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He had inspected you pretty closely on the jet and was sure you had been fine, though he was annoyed he didn't realize your shoulder was hurt, however part of him was still fearful. To hear Steve confirm that you were mostly fine was a relief.

"Good," Bucky said brusquely. Steve tilted his head at him, observing his best friend with judgmental eyes. The silence between them spoke volumes. “Shut up," Bucky added.

Your shoulder had been easily maneuvered back into place, though you were confined into a sling and would be for the next few weeks, rendering you useless on the field. That, combined with the gnawing guilt of putting Bucky and Steve in danger, dampened your usually upbeat self.

After being discharged from the medical wing, you had retired to your bedroom and stayed there for the rest of the day. A few mornings later, you left your bedroom at the crack of dawn, startled to see Bucky already making breakfast in the kitchen.

"Oh. Hey," you said meekly, clearing your throat as you made your way to the coffee machine.

He had dark circles under his eyes, and you wondered if he had slept at all. His hair was disheveled, like he had been running his fingers through it, and he had stubble all across his sharp jawline.

Things were weird now after his tirade at you. You considered the two of you to be friends - very good friends, actually. In fact, you would be lying if you said you didn't have a deep-rooted hope that you might become more than friends. But, after Bucky's explosive verbal attack on you, you felt so small standing in front of him. You had avoided him for the past couple of days, afraid of any potential confrontation.

He thinks you’re stupid and selfish, you reminded yourself. Each time his words replayed in your mind, a fresh wave of pain hit you. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about how harsh he’d been for the past few nights whilst in bed, tears slipping down your face and onto your pillow as you tried to sleep.

Your gut twisted in discomfort. You liked Bucky so much, and his admonishing had crushed you somewhat. You wanted him to respect you, didn't want to disappoint him, but you had achieved the opposite.

You turned your back on him and poured yourself a coffee, knowing that if you looked at him for too long, you might start crying. His face was one that you used to love looking at, loved how affectionate he was when he spoke to you, but now you were just scared. You didn’t think you could take it if he snapped at you again.

"Are you okay?" He broke the silence first, and you wondered if he actually genuinely cared about the answer. You really weren’t sure anymore.

"I'm fine," you said, nodding and moving over to the pantry to try and find something to eat. You stretched up to the shelves with your good arm, fingers curling over a bag of croissants but not quite being able to reach.

You felt his presence behind you, his chest pressing against your back softly as he took the pastries down for you, setting them down on the counter.

Bucky watched when you stiffened slightly, and felt a heavy twinge of regret at how he had spoken to you that day. He was already feeling like an ass about it, but now he wondered if you were somehow frightened of him. He knew that he had crossed a line, said some pretty nasty things.

He stepped away from you, clearing his throat loudly to catch your attention. When you half-turned to face him, he spoke.

"Look, I'm sorry about what I said the other day. It was out of line."

He could only see your profile as you bit down on your lower lip, shrugging as if to say no big deal. From the way your eyes were darting about, Bucky could tell you were holding back on your emotions. "It's okay. You were right."

Bucky frowned, watching as you chewed on the inside of your cheek. "What do you mean?"

"What I did was stupid and selfish," you said, your voice quivering. Bucky's lips pressed into a thin line as you continued. "I wasn't thinking, and I put both of you in danger. I'm sorry. You have every right to be angry at me."

Realization hit Bucky like a freight train.

"Hey," he said gently, approaching you again, his hand awkwardly curling around your wrist. He could see your eyes beginning to well up. "Don't get upset." He tilted his head at you, trying to coax you to look at him.

"I'm not," you sniffed, blinking hard in an attempt to rid yourself of your budding tears.

"When I said you were stupid and selfish," Bucky winced at those adjectives now, "I meant I just felt you were stupid to put yourself in danger, and selfish because - well, you didn't even think about what it would do to me."

Your brow furrowed at Bucky's rushed explanation, looking up at him quizically. Your eyes were still glistening, and his heart ached.

"I don't understand."

Bucky made a slightly frustrated noise, releasing your wrist. He planted his hands on the kitchen counter instead, trapping you, your lower back pressed against the marble edge. He sighed loudly, making you swallow nervously.

"Bucky?"

"I care about you," he began, suddenly unable to articulate himself properly as he looked into your eyes. “A lot. As in, a lot."

"Oh-kay..." The syllables were long and drawn out. You were still nonplussed.

"No, you don't get it," Bucky said through gritted teeth. He cast his mind back to the events in the bunker, that same fear creeping into his system. "There was a second where I heard the blast, and I thought you were done for. I was terrified."

Bucky leaned closer, so close that his forehead was almost resting on yours. His eyes fluttered closed. It was easier if he didn’t look at you to voice his feelings.

"There was a very real moment where I thought I lost you, and it was horrible." The unspoken meaning hung in the air. I can't live without you.

His confession made your heart rise in your chest with surprise and disbelief.

"Oh, Bucky." The way you spoke his name made him want to hold you tight. "I had no idea you cared so much," you said softly.

Bucky's eyes snapped open, and they were anguished. "That's the problem. I'm so scared of showing you my feelings that you had no idea I care about you more than anything." He scoffed, shaking his head. "I don't know what I was so afraid of. The idea of you being hurt is infinitely more terrifying than telling you how much I really like you."

“I - really?” His words were black and white, but you were afraid to truly believe them.

“Did you know,” Bucky began, lifting his hand to brush his knuckles against your cheekbone, “how much I want to protect you? Keep you from harm? At first, I didn’t understand it, but then I realized that I was falling for you.” He took a deep breath. “It’s been so long since I felt anything like that for anyone, that I barely recognized what it was.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed down his nerves. He knew he had to tell you how he felt. The way you were gazing at him now in pure adoration was motivation enough.

“I want to be with you, as more than friends.” He let out a soft huff of laughter, like he was amused it had taken him so long to admit something so simple.

You lifted your hand to cup the back of his neck, feeling a renewed confidence and sense of happiness at his words.

“I should have told you long ago how much I like you, too,” you whispered. Bucky's chest swelled in happiness at your admission.

"Would it be okay if I kissed you?" he asked quietly, his eyes flickering down to your lips.

Your reply was to stand on your tip-toes so you could meet his mouth in a kiss, finally doing what you had wanted to do since the moment you met him.

#bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky angst #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fic #bucky fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky imagine #winter soldier

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seresinhangmanjake · 9 months

Text

Rather Be With You

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake has been away for six months and he just hopes you waited for him.

Warnings: cursing. I think that's it.

Notes: this was inspired by an ask (💐) from a bit ago. Sorry it took so long. So much happened in the last week and a half, some good some bad, and it just got on top of me. Writing had to come second. I have probably written better in my life haha, but I tried.

Words: 1972

---

“You know he's only messing with you, right?”

He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees as he wrung his hands together. Surely it had been a while. For the entirety of the morning, perhaps? Rooster had made his teasing comments at seven a.m. sharp and they were due to dock at noon. Had it been that long? Or had he really managed to shove many hours worth of painful thoughts into just a few short minutes? Somehow, he figured, it was one or the other. No in-between.

When his eyes flicked up, Nat’s face seemed to hint at the former.

It made sense, he supposed. Spending hours thinking about you wasn’t exactly uncommon. Usually, though, those thoughts were a bit nicer, with you naked and smiling, laughing, or whispering sweet words to him. He liked those better than the ones that had plagued him for…well, however long he’d been sitting there.

“He knows what he said isn’t true,” she continued. “He wouldn’t have had the balls to make jokes like that if he thought they would hold any weight. Trust me, no one particularly enjoys pissing you off.”

He wasn’t pissed off, though. He was devastated at the seeds of doubt planted in his head; at the pain and insecurity that came with the twisted knife to his gut. He hated the images forced into his mind at his friend’s words; the ones of you with other men; the ones that made it terribly clear how little you considered or missed him in his absence.

“Jake, she waited for you. I know she did.”

“Yea? How?” he asked.

Phoenix opened her mouth quickly, just as he would have had someone asked him a few hours ago if you loved him like he loved you—ready to confirm with a smile on his face. But if made to think of the answer for more than a half-second, without the hope and giddiness fueling his enthusiasm, he realized he couldn’t actually say for sure if you loved him, just as Nat now could not say with certainty that you had waited for him.

Her mouth closed.

"Exactly. You don't know," he said. "It’s not like I was smart enough to ask her to be my girlfriend before we left. She has no obligation to me, so why would she have bothered to wait six months to have me when she could have anyone?"

The brunette shook her head. “I don’t believe she's like that."

Leaning back against the bench and crossing his arms, Jake just barely held himself back from a scoff. "Like what, Nat? That wouldn't make her anything other than a woman who found someone new to sleep with after the guy she was sleeping with disappeared for half a year.”

“But you didn’t—”

“I know I didn't disappear. But I’ve been gone longer than we’d been together," he said, his voice drifting as he imagined what he hadn't stopped to consider before; a nightmare that, if proven true, would cleanly snap his heart in half. "Joke or not, Rooster could very well be right.”

—

"You're overthinking,” Penny’s voice snuck in from your left.

She reached out to take the beer glass from your hand, polished almost too clean after the twenty minutes you spent absentmindedly running a rag over it. Your mind had been too occupied with troubled thoughts to notice your unceasing drag of the dishtowel around the cylindrical shape of the glass.

It came free from your hand with ease, and as Penny placed it back on its shelf, you spewed, "What if he hooked up with someone? What if he decided six months was too long to wait for a woman that isn't his girlfriend?” You finally faced her just to find her rolling her eyes. “He likes sex, Penny. A lot. There are plenty of willing women and he's practically insatiable."

"When it comes to you, maybe."

The tenseness in your shoulders from well-formed stress was heavy with your exhale, forcing your shoulders to fall forward and your posture to take a hit. "Penny…" you groaned.

"I'm telling you, there's no way he messed around with anyone,” she swore, leaning back against the bar. "Besides, it's frowned upon to get involved with your coworkers."

"You think that's ever stopped Jake?"

She pursed her lips and tilted her head from side to side as she considered. "Ok, fair enough,” she agreed. “Once upon a time, that definitely wouldn't have stopped him. But after meeting you, he hasn't looked at another woman."

You couldn’t say that provided you with any relief. Jake had always presented as an ‘out of sight, out of mind’ type of man. He wasn’t a worrier. Once something exited his periphery, it promptly left his brain, discarded with all past challenges or predicaments. And wasn’t that what you were? An obstacle? He hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend for a reason. Holding on to you for more than just the night didn’t necessarily make you more special than any of the other women. Perhaps it simply made you convenient.

"You don’t know, Penny. You’re not with him 24/7."

Penny muttered something under her breath. Her fingers rose to rub at her temple and when they dropped back to her side, the stare she shot you was imbued with determination. "Look, my bar is where Seresin used to do his "best work," as he liked to say,” she said, and you made a face. "But the only work he's been putting in since he met you has involved getting you to like him and making you happy after you two started your little…thing."

"You may not pay attention, but I do," she practically scolded. "Now, a month ago you were excited to meet him when he got back, and then you let your thoughts get away from you and it’s fucking everything up."

To your own shame, you couldn't deny that. So you didn't bother, rather opting to nibble on your thumbnail.

"They'll be back soon, so are you coming with me or not?"

—

He didn’t know what he was doing, standing there with his bag over his shoulder. But he felt like a heavy weight, an anchor in a sea of levity. Looking around, the men and women he’d been packed in with for the last six months were thrilled, the room sprinkled with smiles and laughs of giddiness in anticipation of having their families in their arms again.

He didn’t have that.

He wanted to have it, but that was fully reliant on you. Your feelings. Your wants and desires. Your plan for your future. Jake could imagine a world where he had the strength to beg to be a part of your life—to plead as desperately as if fighting for enough air to fill his lungs—but reality made that entirely out of his will and control. So he didn't shove his way forward when they made it home. He couldn't bring himself to jump in front of the others who had people waiting for them upon their return. Instead, he let them file out, his team included, until he was one of the final few to step back on dry, solid land.

As he walked by couple after couple, family after family, his already weak composure began to crumble at its edges. The people milling around him felt like a mocking montage of the life he didn’t have. Men and women kissing their partners or spouses, hugging their children with no intent of letting go, their tears coating the ground with joy.

Jake's chest constricted. He needed to get himself on the other side of it, but weaving through the mass of bodies proved harder than he expected.

His shoulders bumped into theirs, his chest skimming across backs and limbs when he turned to his side to sneak through narrow openings. Little kids ran into his legs like spinning tops on the loose from their wound-up energy finally releasing, though each one quickly recovered and returned to their parents, maintaining the same level of enthusiasm they had prior to smacking face-first into a muscled calf.

With each unintentional nudge, he apologized, but no one so much as noticed, too engrossed in their relief at making it home unscathed or in seeing their loved ones still intact. Somewhere, his teammates were doing the same. They’d found their partners, and he thought he’d found his, but his overconfidence in your feelings kept him from ensuring you were actually together. And maybe it was too late. Maybe he would have no choice but to watch you move on from him.

Finally breaking through the edge of the crowd, Jake took his first deep breath. He didn’t look back as he made his way to his truck. He didn’t turn when rushed footsteps grew closer until they sounded as if right on his tail.

“Jake.”

He paused and sighed. He should’ve known he would imagine your voice. Six months without that lovely sound, his only chance at hearing it being within his dreams, took its toll. It haunted him like a ghost on that ship. Of course it wouldn’t cease just because he was home.

“I was calling you, but you didn’t hear me.” There was a soft chuckle, then, “Well, at least I hope you didn’t hear me.”

He spun on his heel and was greeted with your smile. It lacked its carefree nature, instead just barely failing to conceal a twinge of nerves, but beautiful nonetheless. He couldn’t help but smile back.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, taking a few steps closer.

“I came with Penny.” The roundness of your cheeks turned pink from your blush. You lightly shrugged. “I missed you.”

With those words, Jake knew Rooster was deserving of a swift smack upside the head, one he very well may deliver. You cared. You missed him, even.

Fucking Rooster.

“Oh, I, um,” you continued, your eyes falling down to your hand. “I got you these. It feels silly now, but at the time I thought they would be nice, I guess.”

He followed your line of sight to the small bundle in your hand. Five long stems were tight in your grip, the bulbs on their ends made up of layers of silky red petals.

"I was thinking," you swallowed hard and met his gaze, "I don't actually know if you like flowers. And if you do, I didn't know your favorite. I just picked mine." The sweet grin that returned to your face practically demanded he kiss you. Your lips, your cheeks, your forehead, your nose. All of you. Every little bit.

And you weren't wrong. He hadn't had a favorite.

He did now.

Jake swallowed through the tightness in his throat, fighting back the stinging in the corners of his eyes.

He didn't get gifts, and certainly not from the women he was with. But then again, with the exception of you, he hadn't chosen to be with a woman for more than a night or two in the last decade.

"I like the yellow ones but they symbolize friendship and that wasn't really what I was going for, so I—"

"I love you.”

Your smile, your jaw, your hand, fell. "You…what?"

He let out a chuckle and reached for you. "Come here."

You didn't hesitate sliding your hand into his and he quickly pulled you to him, your chests hitting, lips meeting with an intensity that he hoped expressed even just a lick of how much he missed you. You draped your arms around his shoulders and the petals of the flowers tickled the nape of his neck.

"Six months was too long," you whispered when you separated.

He nudged his nose against yours. "Way too long."

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @cinderellasmissingshoe @leila22rogers

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fluff #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x you #jake hangman x reader #tgm fic #tgm

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beautifulsenpai · 4 months

Note

Sweet, and sorry for making my question so complicated 😅, I was wondering if you could write hcs for the clones(kny, and separate hcs for them), or if you don't write any of the hashiras will do. With a male s/o who's very confident and hyper, just very bold and stuff, but gets flustered extremely easily, like holding hands, whatever, but anything more than that will make the male reader just melt, just completely red faced and can barely from a proper sentence. Thank you 😊

HEADCANON | 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗎 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

- characters | 𝗌𝖾𝗄𝗂𝖽𝗈, 𝗄𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗄𝗎, 𝗎𝗋𝗈𝗀𝗂 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗂𝗓𝖾𝗍𝗌𝗎

- summary | 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖿𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗈𝗅𝖽, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾

- fandom | 𝖽𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗒𝖾𝗋 (𝗄𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗌𝗎 𝗇𝗈 𝗒𝖺𝗂𝖻𝖺)

- genre | 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿

- author’s note | 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝖿𝗂𝖼, 𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇? 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀

𝗋𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗌/𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗌

se𝗄𝗂𝖽𝗈:

- having a cocky, and confident boyfriend like you makes him infuriated, but he loves you anyway

- he’ll lash out at you if you tease him, the teasing will make him even more furious

-when he sees you try to take leadership with your face beaming, chin held high with hands on your hips, his teeth will be gritted, and he won’t hesitate to bonk you on your head with his staff

-but when he shows affection towards you (he hardly will), you’ll get so flustered that your face turns red, and you stutter out your words. you’ll be bashful since he hardly shows any affection

-he’ll actually be surprised to see you at this state. this is valuable info, so he will take this as advantage. when you make him angry by acting smug, he show any type of care.

-like for example, if you kept bragging about how many slayers you killed to the other clones, he’ll hug you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist, and his head on top of your head, you’ll be looking down with your cheeks bright red, playing with your fingers, and mumbling quietly

-to be honest, seeing you like this, he thinks that it’s adorable, but he’ll never tell that to you or to the other clones.

-if you’re both alone, you sitting on his lap, sekido arms wrapped around your waist, you blushing, fidgeting on his lap, and playing with your hair, trying not to make eye contact with him-

-he’ll give you soft kisses on your cheek before placing his head on your shoulder, he’ll mutter near your ear, telling you that you always piss him off, but he loves you very much in the end

-he’ll say it to you in his usual angry tone

-seeing him act like this will make your entire face red, your heart beating fast, and you’ll feel like you’re going to faint on his lap

karaku:

-he doesn’t mind the cocky attitude to be honest

-your hyper energy with his friendly attitude and easygoing demeanor, you two are a dynamic duo, the definition of a power couple

-when he finds out that you get flustered from any loving affection, he absolutely finds it adorable, he loves it and he doesn’t hide it

-he shows your flustered state with the other clones, you’ll be ranting something to one of the clones, and he’ll do something that’ll get you embarrassed, he finds pleasure doing this

-he’ll rush to your side, and give you a big hug, rubbing his own cheek against yours, telling you how much he loves you.

-your face becomes flush, and you’re stuttering with your own words. your eyes widen, and fighting back tears from embarrassment.

-you’ll try to push him away but he won’t oblige, and the other clones will be watching the two lovebirds, annoyed from seeing the same thing that always happens.

urogi:

-another power couple energy

-his cheerful energy, and your hyper energy, it’s just perfect

-he finds it hilarious, and cute from seeing your flustered state

-he’ll tease you about it when you’re confident, bringing up how you get so flustered when he gives you a kiss

-just thinking about that makes your face red, and wobbling legs

-definitely will take this as an advantage, will give you a surprise attack of something affectionate just to see your cute flustered face

-when you’re both alone, get ready because this demon is going all out, kissing, cuddling, and all of that stuff. your face is definitely red from this!

aizetsu:

-he finds it depressing when he sees you get cocky, and all

-he loves you, yes, but please, tone down the arrogant attitude

-the first time that he found out about how you get easily flustered is when he gently patted your head from slaying a demon

-how this man quickly retreated his hand away when he saw you drop to your knees, your cheeks burning red, and covering your face with your hands while stuttering

-once he knows about it, he feels terrible. he doesn’t want to be the reason for you to be in this state

-so, he tries to avoid doing big nice gestures like kissing you. you’ll be continuing being you cocky self, but it’s getting harder every day

-he wants to do nice couple stuff because this man loves you, he wants to hold you close to him, and pamper your face with kisses

-so, he’ll do this stuff out of nowhere, surprising you. he’ll feel sorry for doing this, seeing your cute face red, flustered but it’s definitely worth it that it’ll leave a small smile on his face

𝗂'𝗆 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌!

#x male reader #male reader #bottom male reader #x bottom male reader #kny x male reader #kimetsu no yaiba x male reader #demon slayer x male reader #hantengu’s clones #sekido x male reader #karaku x male reader #urogi x male reader #aizetsu x male reader

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kisakis-boyfriend · 5 months

Text

An Oni's Beloved

Pairings: Yae Miko x reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, oni!reader, sub/bottom!Miko, size difference, breeding, rough sex, public sex, fingering, eating out

Genre/Format: Smut; Headcannons & scenarios

Author's Note: Requested by @ninjacomix !! Check out the original thirst right here!

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

Lil size queen Miko 🩷

Miss kitsune loves the fact that you're big (in more ways than one)

You tower over her delicate frame in and out of the bedroom easily. Honestly it can be a challenge for Miko not to get turned on even when you're doing something innocent, such as holding hands or standing next to her...

Slinging an arm around her little waist and grabbing her hip with your much larger hand gets the lady dripping with need rather quickly

Depending on how many people are around, you might just slip your fingers in between her thighs and rub her pussy right then and there

This is usually the first step to full-on public fucking

Miko's milky thighs instinctually spread to make room for your hand as you rub over her folds, spreading the newly forming wetness as it accumulates at her entrance

“Ooh... D-darling...come now, th-the other– other shrine maidens will see this...” The kitsune softly moans. Unbeknownst to her, she's already begun to rock against your hand as it wedges between her legs, soon to be knuckle-deep in her wet cunt

Your teasing yet authoritative voice brings a beautiful blush to Miko's cheeks and nose as you ask, “And when has that stopped us before? I seem to recall a time as early as last week when you were stretched on my cock right here— up against the Grand Narukami Shrine.” The smirk in your tone was quite obvious, and it's not like you weren't telling the truth... Miko's urges often lead to risky romps during her duties

“Haah... M-more...more more moremoremore—!! Please, darling– aa-aaahh~ ” Always one to give in to her libido, Miko clung to your muscular arm and whined into your skin for relief. You rolled your eyes playfully, obliging your girlfriend by dragging her around the corner of the building where they hand out fortune slips

Miko braces herself against the wall after you lightly shove her against it, biting her pink lips to prevent any indecent noises from giving away your location. Her clothing is quickly lifted and stuffed into her mouth, muffling whatever was soon to come out

The kitsune's thighs squeeze together as the open air sends a little chill throughout her body; now exposed from the waist down. Your cock is freed from your pants, stiff and ready to fill a tight hole to its maximum capacity. First, you'll fuck Yae Miko's thighs, lubing yourself up in the process. Then you'll slap your dick against her glistening cunt, earning a stifled whimper from your lover as her hole clenches and releases a string of slick

Finally, you'll push half of your massive cock inside — groaning while Miko squeezes your length. Even with her pussy dripping everywhere, the initial stretch still hurts a bit. You have to allow the little thing a minute to adjust. Once she does though, you fuck the life out of her

You're not even trying to be quiet after a few minutes inside Miko's pussy, it's gripping you so fucking tightly, warm and slick with need. Just how you fuckin' like it. The poor maiden handing out the fortune slips can barely hide the look on her face as she recognizes the animalistic grunting from behind her stall. You're moaning expletives with every snap of your hips into your girlfriend's tight cunt, growling downright disgusting things above her while you both lose yourselves in carnal pleasure

By the time you're finally done, Yae Miko's thighs are shaking violently while thick lines of cum run down them. Staining her skin with the sticky substance and the smell of sex. If anyone looks down they will definitely notice the globs of cum accumulating at the head maiden's ankles. Your cum

—

Speaking of dirty talk...Miko fucking loses it whenever you break out the dirty talk 🥴

She's always so composed, but once you whisper or growl filthy words into Miko's ears? She's gone. Her brain is consumed by horniness

“Fuck, baby... You were made to take oni cock, weren't ya?” She's instantly cumming

“Yeah, take it. Take the whole thing, doll. Gonna fuck your womb and fill ya up~” She's clenching around your cock, milking you for all you're worth 🩷

“This is what you wanted, right? Wanted this fat fuckin' oni dick to ruin your cunt? Isn't that what you said, babe?” Yes, yes it was~

“Haah...yer my little cumdump, aren't you? Mine. My own personal oni breeding meat, yeah?” Yes! Fuck yeah she is!! 🥴

Miss Yae Miko is also a cumslut & creampie queen!

Cum in her, cum on her anywhere, just give her every drop. Please? 🥺

Cover her perky breasts in your seed, shoot some on her wet tongue too~ Cover her lithe body in that thick fluid~

But also! B R E E D her puh-lease!! Give her all of your little oni babies!! Miko will beg so sweetly for your sperm swimming around in her little womb 💞

She's very much the type of lady to melt when you softly eat her pussy after you creampie her!

Let her relax and lay back on a comfy surface, spread her pretty legs, and eat her creamy cunt~ You'll get to hear the cute airy moans Miko lets out as you do

Soft gasps fill the room as you lavish your wife in tender affection after a rough breeding session. Miko's pussy drips with your most recent load of cum, still gaping a bit from your enormous cock stretching the muscle

Everything feels so weightless at the moment; what were once degrading slaps to Miko's cheeks turned into rubbing her ass softly, lapping at her fucked out pussy while her slender legs rest over your shoulders. You can't stop the smile that spreads across your face while you clean your wife up. Her scent and taste are addicting. It's hard not to bury your tongue inside of her and fuck her cunt all over again, but you restrain yourself for the time being

The kitsune's hands drift down, reaching for your hair so that she may comb through it gently. Moaning out, “Ooohh, mmm~ My love, that feels–” A particularly loud gasp escapes the exhausted lady as your tongue brushes against her clit, sighing out her next words with a dopey grin, “So, so wonderful~ ”

The moment becomes your own personal heaven; shared by only the two of you as your hands reach out and interlock with Miko's. You hum with your mouth greedily sucking on her cunt and she arches off of the blanket, squeezing your hands and panting hot puffs into the air. Neither of you want this to end. So, for now, you'll continue nibbling on your lover's soft folds and Miko will push closer to your warmth

#my writing #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact #yae miko #yae miko smut #yae miko x reader #sub miko #oni reader #yokai au #male reader #dom reader #top reader #genshin x male reader #yae miko x male reader #headcannons #requested

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ceruleancattail · 6 days

Note

You wanted some Mystic AU asks right? If you don’t mind, could you expand on how Riddle or Jack would react to being summoned just for cuddles? I feel like they would be among the more easily flustered of the familiars you’ve talked about so far. Thank you!

I PROMISE I SAW THIS OK- IT’S LATE BUT UT’S OUT IM SO SORRY

Summoned for… Cuddles?

Mystic Au

Kitsune Riddle x reader, Kobainu Jack x reader

Riddle always maintains his composure no matter where he’s summoned. Come what may, his service to his master will remain top notch. At least, that’s what Riddle has sworn by. To excel, no matter where he ends up.

Although today might be the day he breaks that perfect streak. He came the moment you called, appearing in a burst of flames, the scarlet of freshly bloomed roses. Shoulders tensed, ready for any order you might give him…

Only to see you on your couch, clad in your sleeping attire. Frowning, Riddle glances around the room. Nothing in sight. He approaches carefully, bowing in greeting.

“Riddle Rosehearts. Reporting to your summons. What would you have me do…”

His voice trails off as something warm cups his cheek. Your hand, gently caressing the side of his face. Running your thumb across the curve of his cheek, you bite back a laugh as Riddle’s cheeks bloom bright red, the exact same shade as his ears. Your other hand soon joins the first, cupping his face within your palms. Gently squeezing it softly, chuckling at the way Riddle seems melt right into your touch .

“Does there have to be a reason for me to call you, Riddle?”

Gulping, Riddle does his best to respond to you. Unfortunately the close proximity to you, along with your affections have left him rather tongue-tied.

“Well… summonings are usually done… for a reason.. master.”

Humming softly to yourself, you shoot Riddle a sheepish smile.

“A reason? I guess… I was just lonely then.”

A silence pause passes between both of you. Before you felt something furry wrap around your waist. One of Riddle’s many tails, coaxing you forward. Engulfing you within his fur, as soft as a freshly mown meadow. It was warm, just like a lover’s passionate embrace.

You glance towards Riddle, only to find a small smile creeping across his lips. A soft, gentle smile, like the faint golden rays of the morning sun. Its warmth went straight into your heart.

“If company is all that you desire, I would only be too happy to grant you that.

Allow me to stay by your side for as long as you wish me too, my beloved master.”

Jack enters like with all the vicious energy of a storm. The mere impact of his landing blasting you back ever so slightly, howling winds whipping past you. Tousling both your hair and clothes into an absolute mess, the cold nipping at both of your cheeks in turn.

For a moment, you felt like a poor traveller stranded on the tops of a snow capped mountain, stuck within the merciless powerless of a snow storm. Until you caught the gaze of a pair of ember eyes in the midst of all the chaos. A small smile creeps across your lips.

Ah. It was him.

A pair of canine ears stood straight, attentive and ready. A well-muscled male stood before you, fists clenched. His stance defensive, ready for anything that might be thrown at him. He bows his head slightly in greeting, before speaking:

“Jack Howl, at your service. Your orders?”

A brief, gruff greeting. Almost like a dog’s bark, short and straight to the point. You liked that about Jack. He’ll hardly ever beat around the bush with you, unlike some other individuals and their endless riddles.

Jack was painfully honest, for the better or for the worse. Even if he tried to lie, it’ll show right up on his face. Jack was rather expressive, even if he doesn’t notice. Yes, it was this honesty that made you ever so fond of him.

“My orders? Hmm… come a little closer then, Jack. Maybe bend down a little?”

Jack blinks, confused. Yet he obliges you all the same, walking closer. Once you were happy with where he was, Jack was bending down. Low enough for your hands to reach.

“Is this alright, Master? I’m not too sure…”

Your fingertips graze over his ears ever so softly, and Jack goes silent. Glancing at his face, you scan it tentatively, looking for any signs of discomfort. As far as you could tell, there were none. Only a patch of scarlet red, spreading across his cheeks just like spilled ink.

You rub a little firmer, gently stroking his ears. Dragging your fingers from the very tip to the base of his ears. Scratching a little, before your fingers get lost in his hair, running through it as gently as you could. Jack seemed to enjoy it, if the storm his tail was whipping up behind him was any indicator.

Once your hands reached the last ends of his hair, you pull away, satisfied with your pampering. Only to have a pair of calloused fingers wrap around your wrist, slowly coaxing them towards his ears once more. Jack stares at you with a gaze filled with tender longing, pleading silently.

Please don’t stop, Master.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle #jack howl #jack howl x reader #Jack #Jack x reader #mystic au #lucky charm🔷

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orbital-inclination · 5 days

Text

Moltendreams - Ink Sans Alias: Fable Pronouns: he/him Personality: Upbeat and Absent Minded Ink seems perpetually Cheerful, Optimistic and full of energy. Frivolous and playful. He may came across as Tone Deaf or inappropriate, seeming unaware of sensitive subjects. However Ink is rarely, if ever intentionally mean or callous. Notes:

Fable carries a notebook he uses to record things he doesn't want to forget. His memory issues aren't as severe as Ink's, but he is still prone to forgetting things easily, specially: names to faces and important dates.

Fable loves watercolor.

His eyelights change shape and color to anything! (stars, exclamation points, swirls, etc.)

He also loves Fashion and even designs his own outfits.

He knows how to sew and stitch and usually has a comment on the tip of his tongue about your fashion choices.

Broomie is hollow inside and filled with diluted paint. Can be any color but usually the paint is associated with a positive emotion. - More info Under cut! -

The Doodleshere: In Moltendreams, Fable must travel to AUs directly to collect paint from them. In this multiverse, the Doodlesphere is scribbled on top of Fable's original AU, and rests in a sort of OUT OF BOUNDS space between AUs. Through the Doodlesphere, Fable can access every AU he has discovered so far. The Doodlesphere is an endlessly expanding liminal space; a series of interconnected empty indoor spaces, shops, malls, palaces, endless variants of regions of the underground, each reflecting an AU, through a door in each room. Despite how confusing the layout of Doodlesphere may seem to the outsider, Fable instinctively knows where everything is. Nothing is ever lost in the Doodleshere.

About: Fable acts as a Muse for Creation, he does not create AUs by himself but rather, assists in the creation by attempting to cox a Spirit of Creation (in-universe term and stand-in for the creator of a particular AU) into taking action. Most Spirits of Creation will create AUs on their own, but many will hesitate, abandoned their world before it's finished, or simply sit still while a world remains incomplete, seemingly waiting for some unknown que. While the Spirits can be influenced and encouraged, ultimately, they cannot be controlled, even by Fable. Fable has a similar history as Canonical Ink. He originated in a discarded AU, soulless but willed to life by a Spirit of Creation before it departed. Fueled by the desire to never experience the empty monotony of an unfinished AU again, Fable travels the multiverse to encourage Spirits of Creation to finish their work. Though the consequences of his actions were unintentional, Fable initially favored Positive AUs and could be said to be partially responsible for the state of the Multiverse as it is today. Happiness feels good. Joy feels good. Fable wants to feel good. He wants others to feel good too. Outcode Politics: Fable places equal value on all creation, and for that reason, he is forced into a position where he feels obligated to respect all "characters" he comes across, even "characters" like Error. Can art destroy itself? Should art destroy itself, if that is the intention of the creator? What do you do when one Artist's art can only be appreciated through the destruction of another Artist's work? Ink doesn't think of it in exactly those terms, but that is the gist of his internal conflict. Passive interference in any given AU is a problem for Fable. He believes the "narrative" should be left to play out organically without outside interference. To interfere could jeopardize the AU's stability. Or worse, antagonize the Creation Spirit that made it. Which can be dangerous for the inhabitants. But for the average encounter, Fable is a wild card. He follows no strict rules, and is just as likely to chase other outcodes off as he is to befriend them and attempt to guild them. Paint and Vials:

Specific AUs give Ink specific paint colors tied to certain emotions. Underfell will give Ink shades of red/anger/righteousness for example but won’t give him yellow/euphoria. Horrortale will give him deep blue/loneliness/grief and shades of purple/fear but won’t give him green/envy etc.

the more common the au is, the more of a specific color Ink will be able to collect from it.

this means that if a certain AU is rare he will use up the color associated with it more quickly. He will try to avoid situations that drain that specific color because it will be harder to refill it later.

Ink drinks a little bit of every color at the same time, daily. Rather than one at a time as it applies to a specific situation

it’s easier for Ink to collect paint from AUs in the “WIP” phase because the paint hasn’t dried yet AFCRUFTAFH

He can gather paint from a “finished” world but he won’t get as much.

Like Canonical Ink, when Fable is drained of paint he will become doll-like, an empty unresponsive husk. with a couple caveats. 1. Fable is aware of things that happen during this period. he just can’t react to them.

2. if what’s left of his magic feels threatened, (the minimal stuff that is keeping his body together) he will react to defend himself. it’s more reflex/instinctive than thought out, however.

3. if Fable had been focusing on a task, goal, or thought prior to going dry, he will react to external things related to that specific task/goal/thought.

Fable doesn’t immediately bounce back after getting his vials refilled. He’s sluggish, and there’s a noticeable buffer period between when something happens and when he reacts to it. He remembers what happened and what was said to him. This is the second most vulnerable period for him. if someone wanted to manipulate or influence him that would be the time to do it. OG Ink Sans/Inktale @.comyet Moltendreams @ me

#moltendreams!au #moltendreams!ink #ink!sans #ink sans #utmv #utmv au #underverse au #underverse #undertale multiverse #inktale #undertale multiverse au #my art #undertale #undertale au #undertale aus

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serafilms · 5 months

Text

song 24! message in a bottle (taylor swift) + aang requested by @fylithia (spotify wrapped event)

but now you’re so far away and i’m down, feeling like a face in the crowd, i’m reaching for you, terrified

It’s been years now since the war ended. Years since you and your friends saved the world, defeated Zuko’s father and brought peace to the four nations once more. Ever since, everyone’s been busy trying to piece the world back together. Katara’s been staging a feminist revolution in the water tribes, Toph has been reinventing Earth bending, Suki taking the Kyoshi Warriors all over and recruiting, Sokka inventing, Zuko rebuilding a nation and Aang flitting all over the place.

You, on the other hand… What have you achieved? You went back to your village and spent some time telling stories of your adventures to children, then picking up odd jobs on fishing boats and cargo ships to hitch a ride to wherever your friends are off making history. You tell yourself you like the simplicity, like not having to worry about the fate of the world, but you feel like about as insignificant as a speck of dust at your biannual (twice a year) catch ups.

I’m like an old lady telling stories to relive her glory days, you think bitterly.

But you like reliving them. You miss adventuring and seeing the world with your friends. You miss when you were all just kids and there were no real titles or duties in the way (aside from your common goal of ending the war, of course). You miss when Aang looked at you like you’d hung all the stars in the sky, when he was just a boy who liked you but never said it, and when you liked him but refused to show it. Now you feel like you’re miles apart, like he’s on the top of the mountain and you’re left waiting at the base.

You still all write each other, Aang more than the rest but you can’t shake the feeling that it’s out of pity; it’s an obligation to you as an old friend. They’re busy now and that’s not their fault, and you all really would have no reason to go back to camping out. In fact, with the Avatar and Fire Lord especially, it was probably a security risk.

You’re too busy drowning in your own misery to notice Katara until she’s already nudging you in the arm. “Hey, why aren’t you over there with everyone else?”

Starting a little in surprise, you stare at her for a second before sighing as you kick your foot into the dirt and watch the dust rise.

“No reason,” you lie. Because I don’t want to talk to you guys. Especially Aang.

Your time alone has dulled your social skills, because Katara stares at you for a good seven seconds before you realise she expects you to keep talking.

“I think it’s just a little overwhelming to be around many people when I’m usually by myself.”

Her face softens and she reaches out to put her hand on your knee. “But it’s us. We want to make you comfortable and be around you. You know that, right?”

You nod, and she squeezes then releases you. “Let’s start small. Aang!”

Your chest flickers with panic as his bright eyes locate you instantly and he leaves his conversation with Zuko without a second thought. Katara takes his place, striding back up to the group as Aang stops right in front of you.

You feel your heart lurch at finally seeing him up close after spirits knows how many months. He's taller than you now, so it's not hard to avoid his gaze, but you can't tear your eyes away yet. His eyes sparkle at you and you feel yourself flush at how cute he looks with faint freckles dusting the upper part of his cheeks.

"Hey," he greets you softly, taking a seat beside you. "How are you?"

"I'm good," you find yourself saying, despite your mind being devoid of any thought that's not of him. His smile that's as sweet as ever, his eyes, his pink lips. How he's so, so out of your league.

Much like Katara, Aang seems unsatisfied with your short reply. "What have you been up to?"

Thinking about how much I love you. You can't say that, of course, so you babble on about the courier job you did a few months ago, which was great because you helped find a few new Kyoshi Warriors for Suki. When you look back at him once more, Aang has a soft look on his face, and a smile that seems to be there without his knowledge. Your face flushes, stomach flips and something akin to hope rises within you.

His cheeks turn pink when you've trailed off and he realises you're looking at him.

"Wow," he says. "That sounds really great."

You roll your eyes a little, feeling a sense of familiarity. "It's fine, you don't have to pretend you're interested. I know it's all boring compared to the work of the great Avatar."

"No, really," he insists, and there's an urgency in his voice, as if he needs you to know how genuine he is. "I think everything you do is amazing."

You smile. "Really?"

Aang nods down at you, eyes wide. "Well, yeah. I mean, it's you."

Embarrassed but pleased, you look down at your shoes before looking back up at him. "Thanks, Aang."

He grins at you, before glancing over to the others. "Wanna go catch up with everyone else?"

You take a look over at your friends. They look normal now, like a group of friends laughing, instead of the incredible figures they are. You nod at him and he extends a hand out to help you up. You take it.

You can't tell him how much he means to you, but you feel closer now. All you can do now is hope that one day, he gets the message.

#avatar the last airbender #atla #aang #aang x reader #atla x reader #avatar x reader #atla imagines #atla imagine #avatar imagines #avatar imagine #avatar the last Airbender x reader #avatar the last airbender imagine #avatar the last airbender imagines #aang imagine #aang imagines #written works !#2023 Spotify wrapped event !

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uraharasfavoriteexperiment · 29 days

Text

[ pairing ] husband!heian era!ryomen sukuna x male reader [ genres ] fluffy romance with a villain [ cw ] phsyical contact, kisses (sukuna has a potty mouth in the nsfw version :3) [ author's notes ] i also wrote a nsfw version if anyone wants to see it, its also a bit longer than this cute one [ words ] 583 please reblog fanfictions when you read one you like! likes do not help writers' algorithms!

sukuna yawned into his hand, sitting up in bed. he reached up with that hand and ruffled his fluffy, jet-black hair, a sigh escaping his lips. he then let out a soft, quiet sound one could accurately call a growl. he looked over at the boy on the other side of the bed, smiling. he reached out and let his fingers roam into your [color/texture] hair, his smile widening into a small grin. he let his fingers tangle into your hair and detangled them in a way that was uncharacteristically soft, caring and gentle for his usual murderous, aggressive, loud personality.

you slowly slid across the line from sleep to wakefulness, a small, sleepy smile inching onto your face in response to the gentle, loving feeling of someone else's fingers playing around in your hair.

"mm... morning, s'kuna..." you mumbled, smiling again. you slowly stretched your arms out in front of you, then just as slowly turned over onto your back and looked up toward the ceiling; when you saw who was to blame for the random show of affection.

instead of looking up at the obsidian ceiling of ryomen sukuna's bedroom, you made direct eye contact with the king of curses himself... the king of curses who just so happened to have your heart wrapped around his finger... and a wedding ring, as well.

sukuna grinned, looking you right back in the eyes as his fingers continued to frolic in your hair.

" cursed morning, darling... " he purrs into your ear, nibbling on your earlobe.

a soft blush about the same color of the insides of sukuna's irises (the area around his pupils) dusted your face; a grin crossed your face that matched the one on your husband's face. you reached up and made grabby hands at sukuna; he gladly obliged, letting his weight fall onto his elbow and leaning down to touch the tip of his nose to yours. you wrapped your arms around him and your fingers started to wander up and down his shoulders and the area of his spine that was the back of his neck.

sukuna smiled, cupping the side of your face in one hand and pressing his lips to yours. the kiss gave you some of the same feelings you had felt when you and sukuna had experienced that first kiss... it was soft, loving, passionate... but at the same time it was hot, it conveyed the eternally existing fire of need he felt for you, and it may have been slightly aggressive... and slightly possessive.

pff, "slightly," scratch that- sukuna would burn every civilization in the milky way galaxy to the ground if any living thing ever put a hand on you, whether harm was meant or not.

you smiled against sukuna's lips, pulling him closer and letting him pick you up with all four of his big, strong, war-worn hands, changing your positions so that you were sitting comfortably in his lap.

"mmmm... so pretty..." he purred into your ear. his hands roamed your top-naked body possessively as he softly broke the kiss, putting two hands on both sides of your face and touching his forehead to yours. his other two arms squeezed your thighs, then slid up to grip your waist before two arms wrapped around your lower back, gently but covetously forcing you closer to him so that your chest was pressed against his.

"mine." he growled quietly, his voice dripping with many emotions- love, obsession...

and the lingering desire to kill.

#~ | posting #《 boytoy writes ♡#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk men #sukuna #jjk x male reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x male reader #ryomen sukuna x male reader

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inou-ie · 7 months

Text

Pairing: Jingliu x female reader

Warnings: NSFW, fingering, scissoring, aftercare.

Author's notes: To celebrate me getting Jingliu and because I can't get her out of my mind after I did her companion mission. I just want to love and take care of her. :(

MDNI

Seeing Jingliu lying beneath you, breathing heavily, truly warms your heart. The way she spreads her arms, inviting you to embrace her, stirs your emotions even more. She looks so vulnerable... so fragile in this moment.

"More... " Jingliu murmured softly, and you could still see drool in the corner of her lips and tears staining her eyes, making it clear how much she's enjoying the pleasure you've been giving her. You leaned down, wrapping your arms around her in a tight embrace before planting a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Of course, as many times as you want." You planted another kiss on her cheek before reaching down between her legs. Jingliu let out a soft moan, still trembling from her previous climax and the sheets beneath her were already soaked.

You watched as her face contorted with pleasure when you plunged two fingers inside her once more, rubbing against her sensitive spots while your thumb gently massaged her clit. The sensation was too much for her to bear, she already came twice after all. Causing her body to arch back and fill the room with a loud moan of ecstasy.

"I'm... close again..." Jingliu panted, her hands finding their way to the back of your neck and the other resting on the back of your head. She stuck her tongue out, silently begging for a kiss which you quickly obliged by taking her tongue into your mouth.

You could feel her moans against your lips as she tightened around your fingers, clearly indicating how much she loved it when you kissed her so deeply. Her hands ran through the back of your neck while her other hand tangled itself in your hair, sending shivers down your spine.

"Let it out, don't hold back." you whispered against her lips. You couldn't help but smile as she pulled you back into a deep kiss, her usually cold demeanor completely gone at this moment. As your tongues danced against each other, teeth scraping deliciously, Jingliu let out a low moan that vibrated through your entire body.

As you pushed your fingers deeper, gently poking at her deepest spot over and over again was enough to send Jingliu spiraling towards the edge. Her body trembled uncontrollably as she clung onto your arm like a lifeline, seemingly pleading with you not to stop yet. With a small nod, you curled your fingers inside her, rubbing against her g-spot until her eyes rolled back in her head from the intense pleasure.

"I'm gonna cum...!" As Jingliu's orgasm hit her, she shook her head in disbelief at just how intense it was. Her body trembled uncontrollably as waves of pleasure washed over her, squirting out around your fingers and soaking the sheets beneath.

You pumped your fingers gently, prolonging the peak of her pleasure as much as possible. The look on her face - a mix of astonishment and pure ecstasy - filled you with an indescribable sense of joy and fulfillment.

"You came a lot again..." you whispered with a warm smile as you watched Jingliu catch her breath while gazing at you. "Stop mentioning it every time..." She frowned, but it quickly transformed into a smile as your lips met hers in another gentle kiss. The kiss lingered for several seconds before you both pulled away.

"One more?" You asked her softly, your fingers gently brushing against her wet folds. "One more..." Jingliu nodded eagerly, her gaze still soft as she sighed in anticipation. "But... I want you to feel good too..." she added while her hand wandered to reach inside your shorts, her touch was cold yet comforting as she played with your clit, making you moan on top of her.

"Take this off..." Jingliu tugged on your shorts, pulling them down along with your underwear. The sight of her this desperate was truly adorable, so you quickly leaned back to slide your shorts and underwear down. Revealing how wet you were from pleasuring her all this time.

"This too..." She tugged on your shirt this time, her hands trembling with impatience as she tried to pull it off you. "Take everything off." Jingliu said firmly before sitting up and pushing you onto the bed. With a gentle yet urgent touch, she removed all of your clothes until you were both naked.

"Let's feel good together..." Jingliu whispered, sitting on top of you. You gave her a nod and smiled softly before suddenly yelping in surprise when she lifted one of your thighs up, positioning herself perfectly between them. Her hands wandered all over your body as she leaned down to capture your lips in a gentle yet passionate kiss. With a determined look in her eyes, she pressed her wet pussy against yours, moaning into the kiss as your bodies melted together.

Jingliu moaned in every thrust, hugging one of your thighs against her body as she ground your pussies together. You arched your back involuntarily at the intense pleasure coursing through you when your clits rubbed against each other. It felt like an electric current shooting straight to your core, making you gasp and whimper underneath her.

"Feels so good... don't stop..." You looked at Jingliu with pleading eyes, and she gave you a faint smile despite her drunken state of pleasure. Her swollen clit continued to rub against yours, making wet sounds as your pussies melded together in perfect harmony. The sight and feel of it all sent shivers down your spine, leaving you both trembling and moaning in sync.

You could feel the climax building inside you, causing your moans to intensify. Jingliu moved a bit faster now, her eyes filled with desire as she sought to bring both of you to the peak together. With one final thrust, she came all over your thigh and pussy, cum mixing together in a sticky mess. Panting heavily from the intense pleasure, tears streamed down her face while she held onto you tightly.

"Ah.. hah.. I love this... I love you." Jingliu whispers softly, holding you close as she buries her face in the crook of your neck. You can't help but chuckle, feeling Jingliu's body tremble against yours.

"I love you too... let's get some rest." you whispered tenderly, tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear and sealing your affection with a gentle kiss on her forehead. Jingliu responded with a warm smile, and you experienced your heart racing, yet it brought an incredibly comforting sensation.

Jingliu continued to lie atop you, resting her head against your chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of your heart. You pulled a cozy blanket over both of you, then enveloped her in a protective embrace as the two of you nestled together in comforting warmth.

"Goodnight..." You heard her whisper before she let out a satisfied sigh. Watching her peacefully drift to sleep, a smile graced your face before your own eyelids grew heavy. "Mhm... goodnight..." you whispered in return, and both of you fell asleep in each other's arms.

#inou works #jingliu x female reader #jingliu x you #jingliu hsr #jingliu smut

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lurkingshan · 2 months

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Thank you for leaving these tags @pharawee! Without getting into any speculation about how Dead Friend Forever will actually end, I do want to address your question and talk about why most of us want to see severe consequences for these boys. The short answer: it's about genre expectations and the psychological catharsis of a good revenge narrative.

To get down to the really basic point: people who love revenge thrillers love them because they are a fantasy construct in which good people survive and bad people get what they deserve. In a world where bad things happen and we rarely have any control, a good revenge story can be exhilarating, giving you the feeling that justice prevailed, villains received appropriate comeuppance for their wrongs, and the protagonist seized control back and experienced much needed catharsis for their suffering. Real life is very much not like this, which is why it's such an appealing genre of fiction.

So how do we calibrate what "appropriate comeuppance" means? This is where genre expectations become really important, because the genre the revenge narrative plays out in sets the terms for where that bar sits. In The Glory, a recent world class revenge drama, we were in the psychological thriller genre, so revenge came in the form of Dong Eun playing mind games with her bullies until they destroyed their own lives. No murder necessary. Dead Friend Forever, however, is in the horror genre, and specifically began its story by planting itself in the slasher subgenre, giving us a masked killer and setting up expectations that these boys are being hunted. When you watch a slasher, you come in with the mindset that most of the characters are going to die and begin rooting for it and looking for reasons why they "deserve" it. And typically, in a slasher, it takes very little for a character to "deserve" a death--you often see people die for the tiniest infractions, like making a rude comment, telling a bad joke, or having sex. But DFF went much farther than that and gave us a multi episode flashback in which we got a detailed accounting of every wrong this group of boys committed against Non, increasing the audience's bloodlust and conviction that these boys needed to pay.

So why do so many of us want the bullies to die? Because the genre demands it, and the story set the audience up to expect it from the outset. I have seen some discussion of the way the show is blending different horror subgenres and not sticking strictly to typical slasher conventions, and that's true, and expected. Slashers are usually two hours max, and this show needed to fill 10+ hours of content, so it's doing a really interesting blend of slasher, mystery, psychological thriller, and other horror subgenres. But the bones of the story still hold, and despite the storytelling choice to give the villains some nuance and fleshed out motivations for their behavior, they are still villains who destroyed Non's life. If you're feeling overly sympathetic to any of these boys at present, I encourage you to go back and remind yourself how they behaved in the early episodes of this story, which took place after the events of the flashbacks. These are not genuinely remorseful kids who made minor mistakes and then got their acts together and became upstanding citizens; they just want to move on and avoid blame and accountability for what they did, while Non's entire family was irrevocably destroyed by their actions.

If this story ends without Por, Tee, Top, Fluke, Jin, and Phee suffering genre appropriate consequences for their choices that harmed and betrayed Non, it will be a letdown and many will feel unsatisfied. In real life, we may believe that forgiveness is the right path, and we know that Buddhism teaches unconditional forgiveness. But this is not real life. This is a fantasy genre that is specifically meant to provide an escape from the constraints of real life morality and obligations. No one wants to show up to a fantasy party only to receive a moral scolding. The most disappointing thing a revenge narrative can do is wimp out on delivering the actual revenge.

#hope this helps!#i think folks coming to this show mostly from a bl lens and not grounded in horror genre might have a harder time with this #dead friend forever #dff the series #shan shouts into the void #thai bl

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melrodrigo · 11 months

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Daydreaming - T.C.

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary/Sneak peek: It's one of those days again, you and Tara are passed out on her bed; sun beaming through her curtains.

Warnings: Suggestive themes, fluffy fluffy stuff

Word Count: 950

A/N: Have this drabble before this next chapter…y’all need it. This is also partly inspired by ‘Daydreaming’ from Mr.Styles himself.

It's one of those days again, you and Tara are passed out on her bed; sun beaming through her curtains.

The rays frame her face so nicely, complimenting her freckles and making them pop. She doesn't like her freckles, but you absolutely adore them.

It's that type of day where you don't care about how pathetic or lovesick you sound, because she's here with you, in your arms; where she should be.

Nights with Tara were usually very hectic, she was always so pressed and fast and wanting; it's hard to savor the moment. It's also why you treasure the mornings after so much more.

You slip out of her embrace, as softly as you can. She stirs a little bit and you're quick to press a kiss to her forehead and whisper that you'll be right back.

She grumbles a little but loosens her grip on you.

You make your way to the kitchen, humming while slipping on a t-shirt.

Nobody's in the apartment today except for Sam, and you cringe internally at how awkward it's going to be with her today. Sam's starting to warm up to you, you can feel it. It's subtle, but after spending so much time with her sister you're sure you know the signs. They really were similar in many ways.

That didn't change the fact she probably hated you for nailing her sister though.

You let out a little sigh of relief when you see Sam isn't in the kitchen, and get back to your original plan.

Now, you weren't the best cook; but you did decently. It's not Tara's level of cooking, but you could always manage a killer American breakfast.

No wonder they're all overweight, you wonder as you stare at the back of the pancake mix box.

You contemplate making her an actual healthy breakfast like you normally do, but give in to the pancake mix. It was Tara's favorite anyway.

You turn on the speaker, but keep it low enough as to not wake Tara and play a TV Girl song.

Music's always been a sort of coping mechanism of yours. It's nice to just play a song and get lost in the melody, forget your problems and whatever's wrong in the world.

Tara's often made fun of you for it, for always carrying around an extra pair of earphones with you wherever you went.

You sway to the beat now, watching over the pancakes intently; determined to get that perfect brown color.

"Who's gonna kiss the brown hair girls? Who's gonna wipe away their tears?" You sing, grabbing the spatula and bringing it to your mouth.

“Well, I hope it's you, or that's going to be disappointing."

You don't have to turn around to know who it is, you would've recognized her voice from miles away. Soft hands touch your waist, sliding in behind you and peering at you.

You smile, boop her nose with your finger.

"Go back to sleep, I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed." You tut, trying to shoo her away and back into her room.

She shakes her head against you, "Nuh uh, all you do is surprise me with breakfast in bed. I should be the one cooking for you today. Plus, I don't sleep very well without you anyway."

She says it casually, but it still makes your heart melt.

You and Tara weren't one for words of affirmation, in fact; you both loved to shit on each other. That was your love language.

But the fact that she's willing to admit something like that to you with no second doubt fills your heart with pride. Maybe you are turning her a little soft.

"Okay, come on, come help me decorate these plain ass pancakes." You say, motioning for her to stand beside you at the counter.

She happily obliges, skip in her steps.

You'd arranged some toppings already; powdered sugar, bananas, fresh strawberries.

She immediately reaches for a strawberry, popping it into her mouth before you can scold her. You stare at her pointedly, but all she does is smile cheekily.

“At least cut up the rest of the fruits, I'm almost done with these pancakes." You grumble, turning your attention back to the smiley pancake in front of you.

She nods adamantly, grabbing the cutting board and heeding your instructions. Nobody says a word, and the sound of the music behind you makes you feel like you're in the end credits of a rom-com.

You flip the last pancake right as Tara finishes slicing the strawberries and bananas. You grab three plates, one for Tara, one for you, and one for Sam.

You let Tara decorate her pancake as she pleases, taking a portion of the pancakes and putting them on Sam's plate.

When you turn back to Tara, you're met with the sight of her with her hands up slightly in shock, icing powder falling from her like snow.

You can't help but snort at the look on her face; which was also covered in white icing.

The bag of it's in her hand, looking like it exploded from the seams.

The sound of your laughter breaks Tara from her shock, and she giggles a bit too.

"I look like a snowman!" She exclaims, brushing the substance off her shirt quickly.

"Snowman's are taller than you are." You quip, smirking.

She opens her mouth to reply, no doubt with an annoying jab back at you; but is cut off by lips on hers.

You kiss her tenderly, squeeze her hips slightly.

You pull back, pursing your lips as you bring your pointer finger up; fake thinking.

"Hm....sweet."

#tardy drabble #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega

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