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#and then like an hour to cool enough to wrap and put away
diorkittys · 3 days
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a rock and their diamond ˚ ♡ ⋆。 venture + [bimbo] reader {hcs}
synopsis : venture with a dumb, bimbo-ish, sexy gf… i mean c’mon it’s already canon
—TW : some nsfw hcs , slight exhibitionism , reader is very suggestively a girl , big tits (ahh boo!!!)
art credits : leesam_23
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“oh cool! i had a friend obsessed with archeology back in high school; she told me i was a libra!”
“you mean astrology…?” dr. ziegler raised her brow.
“um… i don’t think it had anything to do with space.”
that was the moment sloane cameron knew you were the one.
you’re ditzy, beauty, sexy, (and tall)—quite the opposite to your venturous partner. and most could describe you two as the ‘beauty and brains’.
venture was enraptured the very second they laid their eyes on you. talk about the star of the show; everyone’s attention was focused on you the moment you walked into that dig site.
you’re tiny pink dress that hugged the curve of your waist so tight—barely covering your ass and most definitely straining against your tits (not that sloane was looking…). your long legs and plush thighs that made the archeologist gulp. tall, elegant heels which only put you on more of a pedestal. and if people weren’t already drooling over your body, your face definitely topped the cake. you were gorgeous through and through. a doll.
and, yet, through all sloane’s nervousness, they could tell you looked a tad lost.
“hi! sloane cameron. are you looking for something?” they reached a hand out which you gladly shook; venture noticing your pretty, pink acrylics.
“yes! my daddy works in the medical tent—any idea where i could find it? sure doesn’t look like a fun camping trip though.”
sloane shook the last comment off, saying they’d show you where the tent is. although the digger was dusty and smelled like minerals, you decided to follow close beside them.
that’s where they introduced you to dr ziegler. “are you a doctor too?” you’d ask. “oh, gosh, no. i’m one of the archeologists working here.” and there, the infamous moment took place.
౨ৎ
venture refers to you as various different gemstones, which you love. their go-to’s being ‘opal’, ‘angel’ (short for angelite), and, of course, diamond—your favorite.
^ “almost done w these soil samples. then omw home opal! xo” sloane would reply with to your needy texts.
^ “what’d you want f’dinner, angel?” they’d ask, wrapping scarred arms around you from behind.
^ “you look as stunning as always, diamond.” watching you give a twirl to showcase your outfit for tonight—something always a little teasing and small… not that venture had any complaints.
sloane worked late hours, fully devoted to their passion. you would usually find them hunched over at the table. slim fingers pressing circles into their shoulders, massaging away the tension. your partner would sigh, leaning back before taking your hand and guiding you into their lap. they’d explain their most recent endeavor and you would listen… even though the information went into one ear and out the other.
“ya’ know?” you, in fact, did not know, but gave a supportive nod anyways. sloane snorted, planting calloused hands on the plush of your hips as you straddled their waist. god, they wanted nothing more than to kiss that oblivious look off your face.
speaking of a suggestive kiss, does it come as a surprise that sloane just can’t get enough of you?
their hands are always on you, one way or another—how could they not? so much to grab, so much to play with.
they’d kneed your supple thighs, pinching the fat in awe. and they’d mewl as if it was their own flesh.
sometimes, venture would sit atop you in bed—spending time poking and prodding every part of you like a new toy… not caring about your excessive squirming, stifling little moans.
god, your breasts were the best part. sloane would do anything to be near them at all times. alone, the archeologist fondled your tits, squeezing your nipples between their middle and index and watching them harden. if you were a tease, sloane must be a sadist.
with you being eye candy, there was, of course, a lot of attention drawn to you. some would simply admire from afar, while others took a more brave approach.
venture isn’t a very jealous type… i mean, that’s what they’ve always believed about themselves. yet, seeing men flock to you like moths to a light—it was… irritating.
there was no such thing as ‘innocent’ conversations or ‘harmless’ touches when it came to you; everything anyone did was quite obviously intentional. and somehow, the cherry on the cake was always the follow up question, “did you come here alone?”
and as the men would compliment your hair, and subtly look at your finger for a ring, sloane would interject.
well… if you count standing a few feet away with a hot, red face staring daggers into the men’s eyes as interjection… then, yes, sloane interjected. but, the real problem solver was you, oblivious you. you, who knew you were pretty hot, but didn’t count anyone’s intentions as scandalous.
so, you’d see your partner in the distance and your eyes would immediately light up, waving your hand to call them over. maybe that’s all sloane needed, because as soon as they see that look of adoration in your face, all that anger would subside. you were theirs, after all.
don’t think those men would be off the hook, however. venture would most definitely slide an arm around your waist as you walk away… maybe slightly grabbing the round of your ass with a sly smirk on their face.
you loved to surprise your partner with visits at their job. you never minded dirt and grime and it mostly seemed like it avoided you all together.
venture would be in the middle of a log, wiping beads of sweat off their hairline after a long dig. “excavation log dash 2-3-3, this is sloane cameron speaking—my team and i just discovered a fascinating—“ “baby!!” you ran up to the archeologist, practically jumping on them as you curled your arms around their neck.
sloane would be startled before turning around and giving you an equally tight hug. others whisper about how lucky their coworker is since sloane’s face reached right between your tits. and to think your partner hated the height difference (not in the moment).
“okay, guys, hold that thought! i’ll be back!” your partner would wave.
speaking of surprises, you’d always come home with rocks for sloane. standing in front of your partner with hands behind your back, “guess.” you’d giggle. every night, the surprise was no different, but venture would entertain your enthusiasm.
“hmm… let’s see… is it… a flower?” “nope!” “candy?” “nuh uh.” “a perfectly preserved dilophosaurus spine fossil with all discs in tact?!” you looked around, “uh… i don’t think so?” venture would sigh.
you open your hands, revealing a smooth, brown rock about the size of your palm. “it’s a rock!” you smiled wide and sloane’s cheeks tinted red from how cute you could be. “thank you, diamond! i love it.” you’d sit next to them on the couch, holding onto their arm. “i found it on the sidewalk. what kind of fossil do you think it is? maybe a dinosaur one?”
sloane would pat your head, trying to refrain from explaining to you that most fossils are dinosaurs… and that you wouldn’t find one on the side walk. “angel, i think it’s just a rock—a cool rock nonetheless!” and that satisfied you enough.
honorable mention, but venture definitely buys packs of fossil dig kits for kids you could get at walmart. they keep them at their work station for when you visit because you love to be included in whatever sloane is doing.
sloane works on grid maps in their tent with you by their side, scraping down compacted sand to find your prize. “i did it!” you put down your tiny mallet. “good job, opal! what’d you get?” you pout your lips confusingly, “another rock?” venture, tiredly, rubs your shoulder, “it’s a fossil, opal…” you’re lucky, though, because this leads to a make out session.
when you do have your steamy moments in venture’s tent, it’s always the most passionate. maybe it’s the adrenaline of being caught, or the shameful thought of someone hearing you, either way, it’s exhilarating.
sloane would have you propped up on the table, pushing important papers to the ground. needy hands groping the plush flesh of your hips and your dress hitched up above your ass. your tongue grazing their chipped tooth and fingers tangling in brown hair.
of course, sloane would kiss down your neck reaching the cleavage of your breasts; their hands pushing them together, making the tops spill over the very tight fabric.
of course, you’d ask a dumb question about what if someone walks in. but, your partner is already pussy drunk and is looking up at you from between your thighs, shushing you and asking if you’d squeeze their head before going back down.
it’s very common to get odd looks when you’re both out in public. as previously mentioned, you two look complete opposites. you, in a matching pink track suit, tube top pushing against your tits, low rise sweatpants showing off the tramp stamp plastered on your lower back, g string imprinting on your hips with a cute navel piercing to go with it. you always have your makeup done, sunglasses atop your hair, and pink platform flip-flops… and venture!
venture with their hair a mess, tired eyebags from rarely sleeping, chipped tooth, a ‘we rock!’ oversized t shirt, baggy shorts that went to their knees, and old sneakers. two people you would never think you’d see together, yet holding hands and sloane pressing a kiss to your cheek whenever they could.
and, yes, it’s a little discouraging knowing no one thinks you would ever be with someone like sloane cameron. it’s an insecurity the archeologist keeps in the back of their head. but, without fail, you’ve always introduced them as yours… and that makes any doubts fade away—knowing you hold your relationship with pride.
of course, a few months into dating, venture would make sure you didn’t actually think archeology was astrology. “opal, you do know that zodiac signs are not archeology, right?” they’d raise a brow. “no, silly. i’m not dumb!” you’d giggle and sloane would sigh in relief.
“he’s that murderer—that’s true crime!”
and for sloane, their heart skipped a beat…
yeah, you’re the one.
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dabisair · 3 days
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toska
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Dabi x gn!reader
Warnings: soft Dabi, reader is a bit rude to Dabi in the beginning, discussions of love and how it's supposed to feel (both explanations are negative), indecisive reader, unambitious reader, talk of body hatred, and oh my god if you feel the way this reader feels I am so so so SO sorry and I hope that one day you and I can heal ; _ ; (I tried to keep Reader's body type unspecified)
toska - (roughly) a dul ache of the soul, a sick pining, a spiritual anguish; also, "Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness".
Unbeta'd I ride at dawn--- this started somewhere and then ended somewhere else entirely and I'm sorry.
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A flame-bitten finger traces along imperfect skin - skin that shivers beneath the touch, goosebumps pebbling in the wake.
The sensation worsens when that burning hand plucks petals from a nearby flower, all blues and purples with a splash of white, and traps the supple material between a hot palm and a cool arm.
Blue eyes flicker with interest, a flash of white heat singing the petals and the near invisible hairs on your forearm. A stream of smoke rises up from beneath his palm, long fingers wrapping around your arm when you try to jerk the appendage away on reflex.
Dabi thinks your scowl is funny - he must, given that he chuckles when you narrow your eyes at him. You don’t waste your time trying to pull your arm out of his grasp. You’ve come to know that it is better for you to accept whatever new burn you’re going to have when he finally decides to let you go than fight with him and have him tighten his grasp.
“Just because you have dead pain receptors doesn't mean I do.”
The small smile on his face is whisked away by a neutral line, his grip on your arm loosening enough for you to yank it back to your person. All that meets your gaze when you inspect your skin is a red blotch, earning Dabi a sigh. You brace your hand against the stone beneath where you sit, staring listlessly toward the city below. He’d insisted that you come up to this roof with him nearly an hour ago.
He sets his hand on your thigh, ripped up flower petals fluttering around as he repeats the action, this time with the petals, and the fabric as a barrier between the brutal flash of his quirk and your flesh. You poke gently at the skin between his knuckles, tentatively touching the staples. Your fingers twitch away from the metal, scorching hot just from the small puffs of flame he let out from his palms.
“What does it feel like?”
“Like running through the snow and jumping in a hot tub.”
Dabi snorts, shaking his head while he rubs his hand slowly up and down your thigh, “right.”
“So hot that it feels cold, like leaving my hand in cold water and then putting it in a bowl of hot water. It stings and makes me think my skin is melting off my bones, at the same time as it feels like my skin is freezing and becoming brittle.”
He nods his head, his hand lifting from your thigh to touch your chest, “that’s not what I’m askin’. What does it feel like?”
“What does what feel like, fire boy?”
“Being in love.”
You peer at him closely, trying to gauge why he’s asking - or, furthermore, why he thinks that you’re in love. You’ve always wondered if you say ‘I love you’ to people because you mean it, or because they said it to you first.
But, at the same time, you can’t be sure that you don’t feel love. You don’t know what it really feels like - at least, not in the way that it's been shown in television or movies or described in books and poems.
“It feels empty.”
Dabi’s stare is weighted, resting heavily on your body.
“It feels like a dull ache, like there’s a hole in my chest that nothing will fill. It feels like losing someone important, wishing you could have them back but knowing that it’s not possible. There’s an anguish there, so deep that I can’t do anything about it, so yeah. It feels empty. It doesn’t feel real. It’s painful.”
Part of you is not surprised when Dabi pulls his hand away from you, but it dawns on you, as your heart sinks into your stomach, that he must have been asking because he thought you were in love with him.
“... what does it feel like to you?”
“Like I wanna’ hurt you. I don’t understand it, can’t comprehend it, and I want to hurt you. It’s an itch I can’t get rid of, a disgusting insect in the back of my head gnawing away at my thoughts and I despise it, and I want it to stop,” his hand returns to your thigh, and he scoots closer, one leg dangling over the edge you’re both sitting on, “can I hurt you?”
“No.”
His huff is so incredulous it causes a puff of laughter to escape you.
“That was so fuckin’ instantaneous.”
“I don’t enjoy pain.”
“What if I let you hurt me too?”
“But you can’t really feel pain anymore, D, and that means that I could potentially really hurt you and neither of us would be aware.”
“But it would be fair. I get to hurt you because I loathe how you make me feel, and you get to fill your emptiness with pain.”
“I don’t follow your logic, but I appreciate that you’re trying.”
“Unless you wanna’ fill your emptiness with somethin’ less painful?” he mutters, leaning toward you.
You go rigid, shoulders bunching up. His lips - uneven and unnatural - scrape along your neck, sending a violent shiver down your spine as your body jumps beneath the affection. He sighs through his nose, the rush of warm air eliciting a similar reaction.
“Do you like that?”
“I don’t know.”
“How can you not know?” he scoffs, moving closer despite his indignation. You have half a mind to slap his hand off your thigh.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to react,” you turn your head to the side when Dabi decides to bury his face in your neck, tongue and teeth moving over your skin. It makes you uncomfortable. It makes you anxious. You can’t be sure the butterflies are actually a good thing as they flutter their wings throughout your stomach and chest.
It feels foreign and unnatural and you’re not sure why he insists on kissing your neck the way he is.
At the same time, you don’t do anything to stop him. Part of you hopes you can just breathe through it. Maybe…
Your anxiety grows when his strong fingers dig into your thigh, pulling at your flesh.
It takes a moment for you to work up the courage to discourage Dabi from continuing, his curious mouth moving up your neck toward your cheek. He leans back, expression unreadable save for the irritated twitch in his lip.
“You know I’m impatient,” his voice is low. Dejected. His frustration digs bruises into your thigh, and despite the pain, and the fact that you told him you don’t enjoy pain, you let him. It is better than reminding him that he’s a villain and if he’s going to be so impatient, then he should just take what he wants from you.
Dabi has always seemed to want you to be willing, rather than despondent.
“Nothing to say to that?”
You shrug, your leg jerking under his hand when he digs his fingers into it again. Words escape you until Dabi moves his hand off your leg and sighs heavily.
“This is never gonna’ go anywhere, is it?”
“No.”
“And I thought I was the villain.”
“In label only, D. You also deserve someone who knows what they want - both in life and a relationship. I can’t give you either of those things,” you shrug, the lights of the city blurring together, “unlike you, I have no ambitions. I have no purpose. I simply exist. I don’t know what I want, and haven’t known for years.”
He fishes his cigarettes out of the pocket of your sweatshirt and lights one up with a blue flicker, his movements harsh.
“So you used to know.”
“Yeah. I used to think I wanted a relationship. I used to be pretty enough to be in one.”
Dabi grumbles something under his breath, glaring at you. You tilt your head to the side, sighing through your nose, “you’re prettier than me, D.”
“Yeah? Tell me how that makes sense.”
“It doesn’t,” you mutter, surprised that he’s stayed as close to you as he has. He’s been surprisingly patient with you, “but I’ve stopped trying to make sense of it, y’know? It’s all fine and dandy until I remember I’m part of the equation. Everything about me is ugly, especially my body. I wouldn’t like it even if I was thinner - or bigger. It’s me, so it’s ugly.”
“But you think other people who share your attributes are beautiful, doll,” Dabi leans his forehead against your shoulder, “why can’t you think that about yourself?”
You suck in your cheeks, looking at him sheepishly when he raises his head.
“... you were gonna’ say that phrase, weren’t you?”
“Uh huh.”
“And you didn’t because…?”
“Because I think I’ve said it enough for one night, and you’re probably sick of hearing it. So. Um. Reasons.”
“Mm-hm. Reasons?”
“Yeah. The best. Logical. Make perfect sense reasons - definitely not illogical, or contradictory reasons!”
And to your surprise, Dabi chuckles, shaking his head as he inclines it to your shoulder again. Maybe it is nice for him to hear you try to be funny about something that is objectively not funny - or maybe he appreciates that you are already aware that your reasoning is illogical.
“Next time we should talk about something else.”
“But what if talking to me about how much you hate yourself makes y’feel better?” he counters softly, lifting his head from your shoulder to toss his cigarette away. You glance at his lips only to quickly look away when you realize he caught you.
“Isn’t that too much weight for you?” you ask just as softly. Thankfully, he knows what you mean: by comparison, your body is fine. Your body is normal.
His no longer is.
“But I understand - don’t argue with me.”
“Okay.”
“Saw you lookin’.”
You hum.
“So do it.”
You glance at him again, brows narrowing back, and your stare drifts to his lips, then back up to his eyes. He nods his head a little in encouragement.
All you can muster is to kiss him on the corner of his mouth. You let it linger, let yourself feel it, and then you pull away. Dabi brings your head to his collar, though, making you lean against him
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
You laugh airily, closing your eyes.
“It wasn’t.”
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mittensmorgul · 7 months
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me, upon walking into the kitchen at 1:18 am and seeing the perfectly ripe bananas i was going to turn into banana bread: heck is 1:18 too late to make banana bread
me, upon looking around the kitchen: heck why is the sink full of dishes? i can't make MORE mess when the sink is full. guess i gotta put these in the dishwasher before i can make banana bread. oh right we ran the dishwasher and haven't emptied it yet
me, at 1:20 pm: emptied and then refilled the dishwasher. i have an empty sink, and 20 minutes later have zero energy for making banana bread at 1:39 am... >.>
i'll make banana bread tomorrow
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peachesofteal · 6 months
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Single mother with Simon as neighbour au? Yeaaah in love with them.
Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader
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Simon hasn’t seen you in a few days.
He hasn’t seen you in the hall, or on the roof. Hasn’t seen you on your little balcony, like he did the other day when you were sitting on the little rickety metal chair, sipping a hot cup of something, too big sweater wrapped around your shoulders.
“Good morning.” You called to him, somehow keeping your voice light and soft, warm. He managed a response, serrated and off key, as he stubbed his cigarette out and slipped his mask from his pocket to his face.
He wonders if you’re alone. He never hears anyone else with you except little Emmaline, no man’s voice. No woman’s. He hears you, though. He hears you leave in the mornings, off to somewhere he’s not aware of. Hears you come home in the afternoons, your voice carrying down the hall while you talk to the baby, words muffled and tone light. Hears Emmaline, crying in the mornings and at night. Hears her screaming sometimes, angry about something, the raw pitch of her displeasure filtering through the paper-thin walls, her screeching and wailing probably loud enough to wake the entire floor. He hears you sing to her, just the lightest sounds of a muffled lullaby, coming from the room that’s opposite his bedroom, and he wonders if that’s where your bedroom is too.
He thinks about you being alone, doing everything by yourself, taking care of the baby, taking care of yourself. Who makes sure you’re okay? Who’s watching out for you?
He gets his answer, two days later, six hours before he’s slated to leave for the next op, when he stumbles upon you in the pouring rain, nearly in tears, Emmaline in a cloth wrap pressed to your chest, paper grocery bags in your arms, standing outside the building’s front door, one free hand frantically searching for what he automatically assumes must be your keys. As soon as he spots you, he increases his pace, legs stretching out in front of him and closing the distance between the three of you in record time.
“I know, I know.” He hears you trying to comfort her as he gets closer, your usual sweet voice edged in a frantic, viscous tone that has his fists clenching. “I’m here, baby. It’s okay.”
“Need some help?” He calls, and you turn with wide, nervous eyes. When you see him, when you realize it’s him, you relax, and blurt out hurriedly:
“Oh my god, do you have a key?” He pulls his own from his pocket, sliding it into the lock and then holds the door open, your body pressing against his when you brush by. “They usually don’t lock this door during the daytime.” He knows. He doesn’t tell you, but he had a strongly worded conversation with the building manager two days ago, when he came across the bloke in the lobby. He terrified the man, but he’s not sorry at all, and he feels certain that the front door will remain locked from now on. Leaving the bleedin’ front door unlocked, for anyone to walk in here. Not anymore.
“It should be locked.” He says flatly, and you purse your lips like you’re going to argue, setting down the grocery bags and then fidgeting with the wrap that has Emmaline sitting snugly against your chest.
“Shhh. I know, I know. You don’t like the rain.” He eyes you curiously, watching you unwrap the long pieces of linen slowly. He’s never seen that before, never seen someone carry a baby around like that, Beth always…
Beth. His skin slicks cool with sweat when the thought rips across his mind, old, buried memories gnawing at where he’s put them away, where’s he’s kept them hidden. Beth. Joseph. Tommy. Tommy holding his son, Joseph as a baby, little boy with blonde curls and happy smile, Tommy and his mom-
“Simon?” you say his name softly, tilting your head, and he blinks, snapping his focus back to the present, back to the now, with you, with Emmaline. “You okay?”
“Yeah, alright.” He points to the brown bags. “Need a hand?” He offers, and you reward it with a gracious smile that shines like a bright light that he can’t look away from. Fucking hell.
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etheries1015 · 6 months
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posted so much angst recently that I guess ill make it up with an alternative ending to this
...
General Lilias yelling hadn't left you without your woes. You had decided to take a break, walking deep into the woods to collect herbs and fruit as a way to pass time to cool off. Hours passed and when you hadn't returned to the cottage as you normally would, and Lilia began to worry (against his will) . He sat at the wooden table, head propped up with his hand as he stared at the clock ticking on the wall much to his annoyance. Deciding he had waited long enough, the general pushed aside his pettiness and went out searching for you, putting on his mask and rushing out the door.
It wasnt long until he found you collapsed on the forest floor, seemingly in a pool of dark red liquid. With eyes wide and heart becoming heavy as stone dropping into his stomach, he ran quickly to your side, holding your body up to his chest as his long black and red streeked hair caged around you. It wasn't long until you emerged from the sudden movement, tiredly looking into the glistening tear filled eyes of the general. squinting your eyes you groggily groaned and hissed in pain, Lilia gasping at your concious state.
"Lilia...?" the fae looked around in a slight panic, eyes wide as he realized you were also able to speak.
"Quick, where were you harmed? I could not find an entrance wound, we must hurry and put pressure on it before-" you cut him off as you grasped the situation in its entirety now with a breathy laugh, Lilia looking at you with furrowed eyebrows eith a frown to match painted upon his beautiful tear stained features.
"This isnt funny," he snapped, "You could-" noticing how well you were able to function despite the seeming severity of the situation, he realized something must have been amiss. Lilia took a moment to look around once more to analyze a second time, seeing the tipped over basket of red berries.... The way you were laying...the buldge of your swollen ankle...using a finger he dipped it in the red liquid and brought it up to his lips, tasting it. ah. He understood now.
Suddenly dropping you and turning his back, you could feel the heat of embarassment radiating off of the soldier. To cover his red face, Lilia placed his mask back on and began to take a step away from you.
"Wait, wait! Liliaaa," you whined, "that hurt! When you dropped me! I sprained my ankle and fell on my Back. Would you please pity me? Just a little?" He stopped his movements from advancing forward back to the enterance of the forest, before taking a deep annoyed sigh and turning around to help you up.
He placed you on his back, the powerful fae hoisting you up and using his arms to interlock your knees and elbow supporting your bum. Your arms wrapped around his neck and your head peaked out from between his shoulder and neck. It was silent for a moment, and no more than that before you immediately broke the silence (not to his suprise).
"Were you crying, oh great and powerful general?" You cooed into his ear, Lilia immediately groaning in annoyance.
"If you do not shut your mouth, i'm leaving you here to rot. And I cannot believe you fell asleep on the forest floor, that was incredibly foolish," he chastised you. With a shrug of your shoulders you tilted your head in thought.
"Well, I was tired. My ankle hurt, and I was sad, so...it felt like the world was telling me to take a nap? I guess?" You laughed. Scoffing at your silly reasoning, Lilia simply rolled his eyed and continued forth towards the cottage. Another moment of silence rang before, of course, you interupted the peace once more.
"Why? Do you care about me?~" you teased. Another groan.
"Yes." He replied coldly and quickly, leaving the smile wiped off your face and jaw to the floor. Finally you allowed the silence to take over as heat crept up your muddied cheeks.
It was silent all the way back to the cottage, through to the moments of Lilia running a bath for you, to him bandaging your sprained ankle as you sat on your plump bed.
"If you continue to stare at me, you're going to burn a hole into my head. Spit it out, what do you have to say?" He finished putting away the bandages and folded his arms, looking at you- who now had a smug satisfied smile plastered on your lips. He already knew what you were going to say, you were all too predictable. And he had his answer ready, too.
"Ah, I think I just feel deeper in love with you..." You sighed dramatically, your hands over your heart before abruptly grabbing hold of Lilias hands, with the same stars in your eyes as the day he first met you.
"Will you-"
"Yes."
You blinked
Once, twice, four times. You had to shake your head roughly to clear out your ears to be sure they were functioning properly.
"Wait- you dont even know what I was gonna-"
"You were going to ask my hand in marriage again, yes?" He asked, a smirk coyly forming on his lips, his fang poking out ever so slightly.
"Well, yeah," you laughed awkwardly, "But I'm pretty sure I heard you say that wrong- did you say-"
"I said yes. I will marry you, human." He cut you off once more, looking away with flushed cheeks. "Don't make me say it twice."
...
"And that is how your (co parent) and I got engaged!" The short haired fae smiled proudly as you groaned, face burried in your hands. The young boys looked at you in awe, as the small silver haired one poked you to get your attention.
"Were you really like that?" Silver asked, Lilia interjecting himself before you had even the chance to defend yourself.
"Yes! They were rather clingy and outspoken. A far cry from now, wouldn't you say? Perhaps ten years of marriage makes one dull, you have lost your charm, my dearest!" You rolled your eyes and let out a scoff of laughter towards your fae husband.
"More like you stole it from me," you huffed, "How does one as old as you become so childish and carefree? sebek, silver, would you even believe me when I said he was so cold and mean towards me in my youth?" You pouted. The two boys shook their head, causing Lilia to let out a hearty laugh in response. Sighing with defeat and a smile upon your lips, you pushed Lilias face away from your own as he floated towards you with puckered lips.
"Alright boys, time for bed." Without protest the two had gotten ready and tucked into bed, leaving you and Lilia alone in the living room.
"You didn't have to tell them that," you huffed as Lilia trailed kisses down your neck, "I was not THAT ooverbearing! I mean, of course I had my moments..." With a raised eyebrow Lilia challenged that statement with the look in his eyes.
"It was your perserverance that attracted me to you, my dearest. It is nothing to be ashamed of, I assure you! If anything, you could be a little more... Clingy..." His voiced turned into a low sensual growl as his lips captured your own, pressing back with equal force as his hands began to wander under the hem of your shirt...
"Am I interuptting?" A familiar voice called out, causing you to gasp and push away a chuckling Lilia.
"Ah...Malleus. Im sorry, how long have you been here, exactly...?" You inquired. The draconic fae sitting on the couch tilted his head curiously, "you truly havent noticed? I have been here this entire time." Awkward silence rang for a moment and nothing more than a moment, before Lilia grabbed your hand and began to tug you towards your private quarters. With mischief in his eyes and voice sweet as honey, he leaned into your ear to whisper;
"Let us renew those wedding vows, shall we, my lovely spouse?"
Masterlist
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backtothefanfiction · 4 months
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Well this is awkward
Warnings: none, maybe a little cringe behaviour from Oliver, fluff
A/N- just an idea that came to me after a dialogue prompt I saw on Pinterest. This is just a quick one before I sleep.
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It was hot. Too hot. You couldn’t understand how everyone was so content just out lying in the sun like this, especially when you knew they had to be just as hungover as you were. That’s why you had decided to excuse yourself and take a siesta.
You’d closed the shutters in Felix’s room but left the windows open in hopes that even the slightest breeze would help circulate the heat within the room just enough to give you respite and allow you to sleep. Alone in the room you hadn’t thought twice about stripping off your clothes and slipping naked between the cool white cotton sheets on Felix’s bed, burying your head into his pillow, allowing it to comfort you as you drifted off to sleep.
When you woke an hour later your headache was gone. When you looked to the bedside table you realised a glass of water and a note had been left for you. “Drink up pretty flower then come find us in the library.” Your boyfriend’s sweetness and care for others never failed to make you smile.
Dreamily you rose from the bed grabbing the closest clothes on the floor. You slipped on your denim shorts, but instead of putting your own top back on, you reached for a button up left lying on the floor. It was a little bit too big for you and you did the buttons up messily, but it was just what you needed, light and airy and enough room between the fabric and your skin to not feel like you were suffocating in the persistent heat.
You padded down to the library bare foot. The door was propped open slightly but you didn’t need to see to know who was in there, Venetia’s giggly cackle drowning out the three boys lower chuckles.
“There she is.” Felix cooed as you made your way into the room, moving across the carpet to flop into a small spot on the sofa beside him.
“Yay, finally, Daisy’s here!” Venetia sighed thankfully in a tone that implied that the boys had been ganging up on her and she was grateful for the girl power.
“Hey.” Felix said with a small smile, wrapping his arm around the backs of your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. His lips brushed against yours tenderly before he pulled away to look at you again.
“Hey.” You said back with a breathy smile.
Your eyes followed his as he trailed them down your body, his eyes slowly furrowing. His fingers began to toy with the collar of the shirt as he questioned, “whose shirt is this?”
“I thought it was yours.” You replied.
“No.” Felix said with a frown.
“Umm, it mine.” Ollie slowly said from the other side of the room, hand raised.
“Well this is awkward.” Farleigh said nibbling on his lip trying to feign ignorance to the fire bubbling in his veins over the hint of potential drama; as you and Felix slowly looked to the new comer of the group.
“I picked it up off your floor.” You said, head turning to Felix confused. “Fix?”
“I don’t know.” Felix quickly replied to your implied question before formally asking it to Oliver. “Ollie, why was your shirt on the floor in my room?”
Oliver shuffled on the floor uncomfortably before he shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know.” He said timidly, “maybe the maid dropped it while collecting stuff and passing through your room.” Everyone knew he was making excuses and looking to pin it on the help, but no one tried to challenge him on it. “It looks good on you though.” He quickly said.
You had no doubt he said it to reassure you, but it only made your skin crawl. You looked to the clock in the room, you had slept so long it was nearing time to get ready for dinner anyway. “I’m just gonna go and have a shower and get ready for dinner anyway.” You say quietly to the room, to no one in particular but more so towards Felix.
“Yeah, okay.” Felix said quietly as you got up off the sofa. “Uh, do you want me to join you.” He said quietly as he sat forward on the sofa cushions, hands rubbing at his thighs.
You made a point of looking towards Oliver, a look of jealousy flashing like lightning across his face before he met your eyes and schooled his gaze again, as you pointedly said to Felix, “That would be lovely.”
The moment you’d gone back into the safety of Felix’s room you stripped yourself of the shirt again, your boyfriend laughing as you opened the door of the adjoining bathroom on Oliver’s side, dramatically throwing it down the hallway.
“Uhh, get me in the shower.” You said as you turned back to Felix, a mischievous look on his face as he obliged. He turned on the water before picking you up with a squeal and dumping you in the shower, still half clothed.
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octoberautumnbox · 3 months
Text
Discordant Waltz: Juicy Juicy
Oh Sieun (Former IZ*ONE/Soloist Jo Yuri) & Male Reader
Categories/warnings: smut, public sex, blood, clothed sex, hair pulling, blowjob, cowgirl, friends with benefits, fuck buddy
Word count: 1.9k
| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 (coming soon) |
a/n: i just really wanted to put this out, i think atp I can't write consistently like I used to before all this shit happened. we'll just see how it goes from now on but i swear i still have a bunch of fics i wanna write :))))
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bathroom 3rd
sieun fckbd, 2:43 pm
pushy. omw
You, 2:43 pm
The warm, unconditioned air hit you like a brick wall when you first stepped out of the classroom, but with the cool breeze and shade, you really didn't mind any further.
You head for the rendezvous lazily, though it nags at you why she would want to see you during school hours. 
Sieun was leaning against the empty bulletin board between the male and female restrooms when you found her. She was ethereal and fleeting, like a poster from a magazine you weren’t supposed to buy. 
There’s no response from her as you took your careful steps towards her. She looked worried and lost in thought, like something shook her on a deeply personal level. Not that it mattered to you; neither of you were supposed to care about each other in that way.
"Can I help you?" She jumps and stares wide-eyed at you, evidently so surprised that she didn't even see you coming. Apologetically, you push up her chin and force eye contact with her, which pulls her back down to Earth.
"Great," she sighs, relieved, "you're here. Come on!" 
You suddenly find yourself getting dragged by the collar into the women's restroom and shoved into one of the stalls. You're pushed and forced to sit down onto the toilet seat, and your fuckbuddy promptly gets into her own position, straddling you and wrapping her arms around your neck.
This isn't anything new, and by now you know what she's asking for. Place both hands on her ass, feel up her cheeks through the baggy PE pants she loves wearing for some reason. She dives in and captures your lips with hers, and savoring the feeling of your tongues on each other and swapping spit. 
Carelessly you reach under her pants garters and under the waistband of her boxers, fully relishing how her smooth skin and plump ass feels in your hands. She breathes heavily under your touch, and moans spill from her lips with every squeeze. 
"Sorry about the boxers by the way," she whispers, breaking the kiss. "I didn't plan on this." 
You take her lips again, feeling her breath growing less and less stable against yours. "It's fine, baby. You okay?"
She tries to act tough with her retort, but her blushing gives her away. "Less talk, more getting your cock hard enough for me to choke on." 
You estimate a solid minute of making out and groping her ass while she grinds on your clothed dick, making sure she feels you getting harder for her.
Once she's had her fun, she gets up and hurriedly unzips your pants. Meanwhile you work on stripping her of her own pants, yanking off her boxers at the same time. Her wet, pink pussy comes into view, and you place a thumb on her clit to rub while she works hard trying to strip you herself. Noticing she's fumbling and having trouble with your belt, you unbuckle it for her and get up, so she makes quick work of pulling everything off of you. You sit back down onto the toilet and feel the cold ceramic seat on your thighs.
“Thank you. Do you have any other questions?” Sieun asks, but her interest lies elsewhere. She eyes your stiffening cock hungrily while licking her lips. 
Without waiting for an answer, she squats down between your legs and places the tip of her tongue right on the slit of your dick, giving it tiny licks. She allows her saliva to run down from her tongue, watching you watch her start to pleasure you. 
She takes your cock in her hand and starts to jerk you off in long and slow strokes. Her lips hover over your tip, still letting her saliva drip down, and you feel her handjob getting slicker. Between the feeling of her spit coating your cock and the pure visual of her heavenly face in front of you, you grip the toilet seat to try and delay your orgasm just a bit longer.
Satisfied with her work and how your face contorted in pleasure to what she’s doing, Sieun begins her monumental task of taking you into her mouth. She kisses your tip before taking your head between her plump lips. She gives it a little suck before withdrawing, licking her lips, and going back for more. You notice her free right hand working between her legs and tweaking her clit, and just then she moans a small “mmh” onto your head as she goes deeper with her blowjob to half your shaft. 
Unfortunately for her (or perhaps fortunately, you know how sick she is in the head), just half your shaft reaches to the back of her mouth. The sensation of her tongue tracing the veins around your dick sends a shock wave of pleasure up your spine, causing you to reach out and grip a handful of her hair. She looks up at you, expectant and pleading, as you watch her insert two fingers into her dripping pussy. 
Instead of forcing your cock into her throat though, you pull her head away by her hair with a jerk. She gasps at the sudden rough treatment, but displays her submission by panting with her tongue out like a dog. She hasn’t stopped fingering herself, and this lets you know what she wants next. 
Hand still tangled in her hair, you pull her up to your eye level. Take her onto your lap and position your cock onto her wet folds, and earn a groan from her as she relaxes onto you. 
Sieun reaches under her jacket and, you guess, into her bra before pulling out a condom. Seeing you surprised, she smirks at you and rips open the packaging with her teeth.
"You always know how to get me riled up."
She expertly rolls the rubber onto your throbbing cock. She holds your chin up the way you did with her earlier, and she makes you watch as she lets a line of her spit fall from her tongue to her open palm. Finally she rubs it all over your cock, giving it a few pumps while making sure it's lubricated and ready for her.
You grab her by the hips, savoring how her smooth skin feels on your hands, and pull her back onto your cock. She gives in and, carefully but not too much so, she lowers herself onto your dick. She shuts her eyes as you feel yourself sliding into her, first the head, then the shaft, and even more after that, all the while you guide her down by her hips. 
"Never fucking gets old, you stretch me out so well…" Her breathy and quiet voice tells you she's close. She bites her lip and tries to make eye contact with you again. In the split second that you do, you're reminded that Oh Sieun is gorgeous in her own right, and that you're lucky you get to have her like this at all. You admire her big brown eyes, how they shut as she lowers herself onto you, how her lips part as she lets out a deep sigh.
Sieun is dazed; you know she's getting even hornier with you. She's straining herself to keep quiet, knowing that just one mistimed yelp might be all it takes for someone to get curious, check out the bathroom, and catch the two of you red-handed. Despite that, she soldiers on, lifting herself up before letting herself drop again. As she does, you feel her velvet walls clench tighter around you, and you resolve to place your hand over her mouth. Getting the message, she goes for another bounce on your cock, more careful than anything to keep the sound of her skin on yours to a minimum. You hold back yourself, trying to match her control despite the mind-melting pleasure you get from her tight, needy pussy.
You watch as she lifts herself up again. You take a deep breath into your lungs, knowing that you can't hold back much longer: you need her just as much as she needs you. Hands firm on her mouth and hip, her head lolls back as she prepares to take all of you into her again. 
She crashes down onto you like a meteor, sending waves of pleasure throughout both your bodies. With your common sense leaving you, you thrust up into her, reaching a depth she's never experienced in this life until now. She jerks her head in surprise to face you, and almost immediately her eyes point up and then roll to the back of her head. She groans against your palm before developing into a full-blown scream you both were lucky to have muffled. Her cunt squeezes your throbbing cock as it convulses through her orgasm, squirting her cum all over your crotch and waist. 
Don't relent, she loves it when you don't. You thrust up into her again, forcing more of your cock into her heat and vying for your own release. Sieun struggles to scream louder into your hand as she loses her mind to the pleasure.
You thrust harder up into her, matching how tight she's clamping down on you. Inadvertently she makes up for it with how much of her love juice is spraying onto your crotch and lap. Snake a hand across her back and onto her shoulder, and with your other hand on her mouth, pull her down.
Her teeth find your palm an easy target, biting down and drawing blood. She could do nothing else, completely victim to the immense orgasm you were subjecting her to. Fight down your pain; just a bit more. 
It arrives when you least expect it to, and you're sure deep down inside whatever's left of Sieun is thanking whatever god she believes in that you're about to let her go. Your dick throbs with each spurt of cum you shoot into the rubber, unintentionally also hitting her good spots even more. She leaks more and more of her juices onto your lap, and as you look up you find she's also started to cry. You almost feel sorry for her, if not for how unbelievably and blissfully elated she seems to be getting fucked out of her mind. Your blood shows itself, from your palm and dripping onto Sieun's jacket. 
Both your climaxes end gradually, bringing you down from the highest of highs. Your arms fall exhaustedly to your sides and you lose all feeling in them. Sieun collapses face down on top of you, limp and out of breath, but still finds the tiniest bit of strength to nuzzle into your neck. Extend your last greatest effort, swing your arm over the small of her back and hug her. 
“You good?” Your tone is casual, like she didn't just have the orgasm of her life. She weakly nods into your neck and puts a kiss right on your pulse.
~~~
You find yourself walking back to the classroom, unaware of how much time has passed. The sun hides behind a fair bit of cloud cover, and the breeze seems nippier than you remember. 
Sieun is long gone, off to wherever she was before. Hopefully, nobody notices her limp, nor the red stain on her jacket. Above all, you hope nobody questions the hand mark over her mouth. 
But deep inside, you kind of do. She wouldn't be able to say it, but she'll know it's because she gave herself to a man that makes her feel complete.
~~~
| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 (coming soon) |
a/n: this was something i wanted to write for a long time, im really glad i got to do something like this now :) thanks for reading!
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seikkoi · 7 months
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𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄 | dom!wanda maximoff x f!reader
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18+ minors dni | dark-ish content warning
content/warnings: explicit sexual content, female domination themes, spanking, overstimulation, choking if you squint,
genre: pure smut, minimal braincells
word count: 1,554
Your typically patient wife has had enough of your attitude.
Your eyes squeezed shut, body tensing as Wanda’s palm meets your  skin again. You’re draped over her lap, nails digging into the soft suit pants at her thighs when another strike meets your ass. With every delicious sting, her other hand alternates between stroking your clothed back or fondling your hair. You writhe at the pain, legs restricted by your pants pulled down to your ankles. Normally, Wanda had the patience to undress you fully before punishing you. Normally, she would have stopped five minutes ago. But then again, you normally acted like less of a brat.
It was late when Wanda returned home, much later than usual. The busyness of the day affairs kept her from giving you a heads-up. You had a good two hours to build up your attitude about her tardiness. The ticking hands of the clock served as taunting background music while you watched dinner grow cold. 
You couldn’t fathom a reason she at least didn’t call to tell you, angrily putting away dinner and showering. The front door knob turned just as you re-entered the living room. Wanda, your ever-beautiful wife, wore tiredness in her face, but still greeted you with a smile. Seeing the dark, curve-hugging suit she wore to work made it difficult to be upset anymore, but not impossible. Before she could explain anything, you were on her case. Endless rhetoric about the importance of punctuality and communication spouted from your mouth. You gave no credence to the perfectly reasonable explanation she gave- only responding with more attitude. 
Wanda merely stood, unable to get much of a word in. You, too deep into your rant, don’t notice when she goes silent, removing her suit jacket and rolling the sleeves of her crisp white button-up. You didn’t notice the sly grin tugging at her mouth, or when she took slow, heavy steps towards you.
“You done, darling?” she cooed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
The house was dim, with enough light for you to see the familiar glint in her green eyes. There was a firmness to her touch, fingertips dragging against your cheek. Only then did you realize how unfair you were being, and how much you just fucked up. 
“I just-You didn’t call, you always call.” Your body relaxed at her touch, anticipation swirling in your stomach. You'd been with Wanda long enough to know what your behavior would earn you.
“And I apologized for that, my love.” Her palm wraps around your hair, tugging your head back to look at her. “But you were too busy mouthing off to hear it.”
That’s how you earned your current position, a whimpering, soaked, half-dressed mess in Wanda’s lap. You had eagerly submitted to this punishment, albeit still stubbornly. You hadn’t held back a snippy remark when Wanda sat and gestured to her lap, which was probably why your punishment was much, much longer than usual. 
You are lucky though, because the sight of you like this, suddenly very apologetic and needy, starts to drive Wanda insane, filling her head with more ideas.
“On the bed.” It’s a short and breathy command that you follow all too quickly, pulling your pants off completely before lying on the cool sheets. Wanda kneels next to you, staring down at your flushed body like a meal waiting to be devoured.
A moment passes as you shift your weight off your tender skin and meet Wanda’s eyes, praying that she’d forgiven your earlier behavior. 
Almost like she’s read your mind, Wanda’s crooked smile returns as her hand dances behind your underwear. 
“You can be such a good girl, but only when you want to be, hm?” Her other hand strokes your thigh, fingers sliding along your folds in the same slow place as her taunt.
Your body was far too worked up and sensitive for her teasing, groaning from the lack of attention she knew you needed. You tried to move your sore hips, anything to increase her speed, but a firm push on your thigh stopped that. 
“You’re being a little harsh here,” you whined, still trying to gain even an inch of friction.
“You think you deserve any better right now?” Wanda prevented you from responding with more protest by quickly inserting the teasing digit into you, making you arch against the mattress.
Her goal now seemed to be just shutting you up, adding a second digit and relentlessly fucking you.  It borders on being too much too quickly. You can feel the warmth spreading across your skin as Wanda presses a thumb to your clit. You were now an even bigger mess than before, moaning and jerking against her. Wanda still kept you in place, replacing the hand at your thigh with her knee on your hip. With the way your body still reacts, trying to move against her, you’re certain you'll have a fresh set of bruises there now.
Wanda soaks in every twitch however, drunk on your moans. When your mouth hangs in an open gasp, eyes fluttering, she gives you no reprise, curving the slender digits inside you.
“Shit, Wanda, that’s too much-”, your own sounds of pleasure cut you off, feeling your peak rip through you with little warning. The dampness of the sheets reaches your thighs as you swear and cry out Wanda’s name.
You learned that you were still paying for your outburst, with Wanda’s pace going unchanged. The pleasure transitioned from bliss to overwhelming as she fucked you through your orgasm and long after. The knee holding you down could barely be felt, mind too absorbed in the feeling between your legs. 
You feel like a puddle of water beneath her. Your excitement coated her fingers, making every thrust into you glide with ease. You can hardly process the digits against your walls, crying out each time she reaches your hilt or adds more pressure to your clit. When you feel your second orgasm building, the overstimulating pleasure pricks fresh tears from your tightly shut eyes. 
“W-wanda, please, I can’t.” you cry, gripping aimlessly at the damp sheets beneath you. 
You try a bit harder to sit up, moving your hips away from hold. Wanda isn’t having it, though- her free hand makes its way to your throat, pushing you back down. The smile on her face is infectious, gleaming at your pleas. 
“So polite all of a sudden, tsk,” Wanda scoffs, stretching you further with a third finger. You groan at the sensation, eyes rolling when she finds her pace again.
“I’ll make sure you don’t forget your manners next time, draga.”
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mrsbarnesblog · 6 months
Text
Little games
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Gamer! Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: you really need to calm down, so you get under Bucky's table while he's playing with his friends.
Words count: 1.4k
Warnings: smut, established relationship, college gamer bucky, blow job, come eating, pet names
Author’s note: even though originally I posted it back in August, I might as well publish it now as a part of the kinktober. enjoy and let me know what you think🩷
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It was a long fucking day with too many stupid people that just played on your nerves. You were supposed to study at the library for your exam, but instead you were arguing with people who didn’t know how to properly behave in public places and talk to others
Almost an hour later, your blood was still boiling with anger, and you came to your and Bucky’s apartment, carelessly throwing your bag on the floor and kicking off your shoes. You needed to punch someone, scream, take a hot shower, or just have really good sex. And you knew someone who could help you with the last one. 
You walked into Bucky’s playing room; it was a little bit dark with a few neon lights turned on. He was sitting there with headphones, without a shirt, and only in black shorts. The camera was off; he was just playing with his friends, but he was too fucking hot for his own good.
The urge to climb on Bucky right in his playing chair hit you like lightning. You walked closer, wrapping your hands around his neck from the back and sliding them lower down his firm chest.
“Hey, baby doll.” He pushed back the microphone, giving you a quick look but then going back to his stupid game. You deeply inhaled as another wave of annoyance ran through your body because you didn’t get the attention you wanted. 
“Buck… I’m really angry right now, and I need you.” You mumbled against the hot skin of his neck. 
“Gimme like... ten minutes, doll, ‘kay? I have to finish this, or we’re gonna lose. Love you.” Bucky, not looking away from the monitor, placed a kiss on your cheek, and you heard a muffled sound of Steve’s or Sam’s voice in the headphones. “No-no, it’s nothing—on your back!” Bucky suddenly screamed into the microphone as his body moved forward. 
You rolled your eyes, knowing damn well that this is not for “ten minutes”. You didn’t mind him having such a hobby, but at times like this, you just wanted to throw everything in the trash because it was really hard to get Bucky’s attention during the games. It was obvious that if you wanted to cool down, you needed to take everything in your hands. Well, quite literally.
You stepped to the side of Bucky’s chair before dropping to your knees and getting under his table in well-trained motions. It's not like you haven’t done it before. He probably didn’t even notice it because when you quickly put your hand on his crotch, he jumped in surprise and looked at you with his big baby-blue eyes. 
“What are you doing?!” He whispered so his friends couldn’t hear him.
“I am fucking mad, James, and since you don't want to fuck it out of me, I’ll do everything by myself.” You hissed, dragging his shorts down enough to reveal his semi-hard cock. 
Bucky’s eyes rolled back as soon as your soft hand wrapped around him, and he felt that he became hard almost immediately. Usually, he didn’t miss a single chance to get his hands on you. Bucky was quite literally obsessed with you, and he was ready to have sex with you everywhere and every time, but right now he was in the middle of the game with his friends, who might hear everything. 
His body became hot within a second. His hips unconsciously jerked upwards to meet your hand, and he completely forgot what he was doing, looking at your grinning face in between his legs with a slightly open mouth.
“Barnes, what the fuck are you doing? I almost got killed!” It was probably Sam, you thought, but it didn’t stop you from your intentions.
“Do you hear it, Buck?” You innocently whispered, spitting on the hard cock in your hand to help your slow movements. “Continue playing your little game; I’ll just do my business here.” 
“Erm, nothing, it’s just—Alpine dropped something, I don’t know, got distracted...” Bucky  breathed out into the microphone, trying to stay as calm as possible, his eyes quickly moving between you and the screen. He continued to play, still trying to win the game, even though your hand felt too good and his eyes desperately wanted to close. 
Your smirk grew wider before you leaned closer to his cock and traced the vein on the lower side, going from the bottom to the top and swirling your tongue around the head at the end. You hummed at his taste in your mouth, sending vibrations down his body. 
The reaction was exactly how you wanted it to be. Bucky cursed under his mouth; his head fell back, and you could tell by the way his arms and jaw were tensed that he wanted to moan. Yes, he was always vocal, so teasing him that way felt so good. 
“What is wrong with you, man?” Another voice was heard through the headphones, but Bucky didn’t seem to care.
“Oh, fuck!” Your lips wrapped around his cock, sucking on the tip and looking Bucky directly in the eyes. You knew that it drove him crazy. Bucky completely forgot about his game while different people yelled at him and put his left hand on top of your head, guiding you to get lower. “Just like that...” 
“Who are you talking to?”
“Are you having sex?”
“What the fuck are you doing, Barnes?” 
A bunch of different questions mixed in the group voice chat, and it became so annoying that Bucky just muted the call and pulled his headphones off.
You tried to smile, but it was hard to do in your current position. You lowered your head, taking more of Bucky’s hard cock into your mouth. The hand on your head was firm, but it didn’t push you down. When the tip hit the back of your throat, he loudly moaned and gripped your hair, holding you in place.
“Fuck-fuck-fuck!” You didn’t stop, staying like that for a few seconds even though your vision was already blurred with tears. You pulled back, stroking his cock with your hand again. The mixture of your tears, saliva, and his pre-cum made a mess on your face, but it was the least of your concerns. “You’re so pretty, baby, so good for me. What made you so mad, hm?” You saw how his pink tongue licked his lips, and even more dirty thoughts about your boyfriend’s face in between your legs made you want to whimper and rub your thighs together. 
“Some assholes in the library. Fuck, Bucky, just use my mouth, I need it.” The smirk appeared on his lips again. The hand on your head buried itself into your hair, holding them tightly but not too rough to hurt you, and pushed you back on his waiting cock.
You moaned around him when Bucky didn’t hesitate and started to move your head up and down, hitting the back of your throat every single time. You gripped his thighs, digging your nail into the skin, and relaxed so you wouldn’t choke too much. 
With each thrust, you felt that Bucky was getting closer. The movements became slightly out of rhythm, and he didn’t hold his moans anymore. The phone began to ring, and you both knew that it was one of the guys, but neither of you cared enough to pay attention to it.
“Of fuck—baby, ‘m gonna cum.” You didn’t pull away, and in just a few seconds, you felt the thick and hot liquid filling your mouth. Bucky released your hair, unable to move in his chair, while you took his cock in your hands and stroked him a few times until the last drops fell onto your waiting tongue. You swallowed everything, locking eyes with Bucky’s hazy ones, and kissed the tip one last time. “You’re going to kill me. Fuck, you should go to the library more often, sweetheart.” His lips curled in a sneer, and when Bucky wanted to drag you onto his lap, the phone rang again.
He rolled his eyes but still answered.
“What the fuck, Barnes, we lost because of you!” 
“I don’t really care, Willson, because I just got the best head, and now I’m going to have no less good sex with my amazing girlfriend. Don't call me for at least a few hours.”
“Ew, you’re motherf—”
Bucky didn’t listen to whatever Sam wanted to say and ended the call, throwing away his phone. Then he looked back at you, still on the floor, and that dangerously attractive grin appeared on his face again. 
“Now let me pay you back, and then fuck you the way you wanted me to. Gotta help my girlfriend relax, right?” That was Bucky’s last words before he stood up, helped you stand up, and then casually threw you over his shoulder, taking you to your bedroom. 
1K notes · View notes
simpjaes · 22 days
Note
JAKE... SLEEVELESS... IN THE POOL... pls write something i beg u
wc: 952 warnings: public fingering, ex boyfriend jake, he's kind of a dick [he didn't wanna be seen w u previously] [visual stimulation]
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Water vs. wet.
You thought they were the same thing. Really, you didn't think anyone would be able to tell the difference while floating around trying not to ogle your ex boyfriend from too long ago.
It's not even that you want to fuck him, it's just that it's...him. Seeing him brings back the memories of all the wild and sleepless nights, hungover mornings, and messy afternoons.
Sure, he's not exactly a green flag, but in the moment he doesn't look so red either. Not with the way his arms flex when he wades around with that stupid snide smile on his face, stealing glances at you just to see if you're looking at him.
The difference between this water and the difference between being wet is that...well. You're wet in more ways than one. Sure, there's cool droplets running down your shoulders, just like the ones dipping and sliding down the lines of Jake's muscles, but there's also the other wet.
You feel it between your legs. Thicker than water, slipping down your folds in these bikini bottoms in an embarrassing reminder of who it is that does this to you, warmer than the water. If anyone were to walk up behind you and cup their hands over your core, they'd know. But no one would do that.
Except, someone definitely would. You stay in the pool as long as Jake does, wading around and pretending you're not dripping. Anyone else in this water would be horrified, surely, but not Jake. Not you.
It was always fun to be messy, dirty, and unashamed of it. Behind closed doors of course.
By the time night begins to take hold and you're still wading around, across the pool from Jake and being caught in the act of staring far too many times in the past hour and half since you've dipped in, he appears to be fed up with gawking.
Fed up with putting on a show. Fed up with pretending he doesn't miss fucking around with you. The pool lights shine from under him as the sun fades, still enough light from above to give him a warm glow. His hair half dry, the ends of his strands dripping, his muscles protruding and smile glistening and wide. You can't just look away, your mind racing in the realization that he's coming up to you. Like so many times before, when it was normal and expected for him to come up to you. It feels familiar when it shouldn't, thrusting you into the mindset of the smart-girl persona you had during that first year of college. Perhaps you haven't grown as much as you thought you had, especially when he's just as bold as he's always been. He touches you before he says anything, wading around you until his chest is to your back and his arms wrap around your waist as if the two of you never broke up in the first place. "You're not very subtle about it." You can hear his smile against your ear when he says it, dropping his head to prop on your shoulder. "You miss me?" You nod to him, all while breathing out a small "no." The feeling of his arms, bigger than before, making you feel the same comfort and intense need to cling to him. "Always were so bad at communicating too." He chuckles against you, pulling you closer against him and intentionally pressing his hips up, lining his length up with your ass. He's wearing shorts, hell, he's wearing a shirt too, goddamn him. But ah, that. That's still the same delicious size. You remember how hard he'd get himself for you, letting you ride him til he's dizzy and drowsy like he had no power to stop you. He was always bold, but never this confident. You remain silent against him, trying to ignore the people all around the pool and wandering in and out of the house. These things are expected at a senior college party, but still, you and Jake never were too crazy out in the open like this. In fact, you and Jake were never even supposed to be seen as an item at all. "Oh, suddenly you're okay with being seen with me?" You bite back at him, your body still betraying you in the way you hold his arms against you like you used to do in bed when he'd cuddle you. "Mhm." He smiles, walking backwards in the water with you in his grasp, up until his back is against the pool wall. "I was still thinking like a high schooler back then, not sure why I ever broke up with you." Ouch, your heart. You'd managed you get over him months ago, still took far too long though. "And you still stare at me like you could punch me in the face." Jake laughs this time, shaking one arm from your grip to trail down, cupping his hand to the seat of your bikini bottoms. "We always fucked instead, remember?" You can only nod at his boastful reminders. All those times where he'd blow you off in the hallways that first year of college. He needed a new image after all, one that you weren't part of. But goddamn, his hands are the only ones that know how to work you, especially when he's gently slipping a finger under your bikini and sliding only slightly. "Always got so wet too, just like this." He laughs almost as if he's mocking you for being so turned on by him. "You still want me?" You shake your head, ultimately trying to pull from him now, but he slips his finger in quickly, moaning against your ear with a tighter grip. "C'mon," He encourages your deep inhale to release in any sort of sound. "I'm letting everyone see now, aren't I?"
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phoenixkaptain · 1 year
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My favourite part of MDZS is how cool Wei Wuxian is.
Like, we don’t talk enough about how cool he is. He performs Empathy three times. His ability to use a flute is so powerful, the song doesn’t even have to sound good for it to work. He brought a dead guy back to life (kinda sorta).
But especially, I love how Wei Wuxian treats ghosts and corpses! Wei Wuxian just hangs out with corpses, for FUN!! He scares away low-level corpses just by existing! He hears the voices of the dead to the point that he can’t enter a place too full of resentment without getting a headache from the constant chatter.
I also really like the Extra where Wei Wuxian is just like “Well, the ghost will go away when he’s done screaming. I’m not worried about it.” And he just leaves a screaming ghost at some guy’s house so the ghost can move on peacefully (as peacefully as is possible when one moves on by screaming).
I love all of this so much because Wei Wuxian is constantly saying that people have too high of expectations of him. Xue Yang telling him to put Xiao Xingchen’s soul back together is just one example of this. Someone will tell Wei Wuxian to do something and he’ll be like “How powerful do you think I am?!” And it’s like… Wei Wuxian, you spent six hours hanging onto a cursed sword in the Xuanwu’s mouth, you survived three months in the Burial Mounds and then returned to make it into a semi-livable place, you killed at least a thousand people that one time, and you came back from the dead, just to name a few.
Wei Wuxian is so strong. He’s so cool. He is terrifying. He is unstoppable and unflappable if only because he gets over his embarrassment in about fifteen seconds! He just rolls with it! He rolls with anything that happens! He remains Shocked and Apalled by Lan Zhan’s behaviour for all of five minutes before basically going “lol okay”! He told Lan Zhan that he wanted to sleep with him in front of Lan Xichen, Jin Ling, a handful of Jin disciples, and the literal bad guy of the novel!!!
(I’ll never get over that scene. It is so funny.
WWX: “I need to say something, it can’t wait.”
JGY: “Then just say it right now as you are.” (Referring to the fact that Wei Wuxian has a wire wrapped around his throat that can kill him in seconds)
WWX: “Good point! Lan Zhan, we should’ve fucked.”
This scene is so fucking funny, I will absolutely never get over it)
I love powerful protagonists and honestly, Wei Wuxian is at the top of the list when it comes to overpowered protagonists. The only thing that phases him is dogs, and even then, he himself admits that he can get used to their presence as long as they aren’t barking.
TLDR: Wei Wuxian is so powerful and I totally get why Lan Zhan fell for him.
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beetlejuicyy · 14 days
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Eraser | Ryomen Sukuna x reader
2. Wash Away
Summary: modern!Sukuna hasn't come to terms with the fact that you might not belong to him anymore (featuring a harmless Nanami cameo)
Warnings: gaslighting, toxicity, mentions of cheating
Word count: 2,789
Series masterlist: 1. Ultimatum 2. Wash Away 3. Only memories
Read on AO3
Notes: here's part two!! thank you for the love you showed for the first part, it means a lot. hope you enjoy
General Masterlist | Divider @rookthornesartistry
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You checked your phone for the tenth time in the span of a minute. It had become unbearable to witness yourself desperately checking to see if Sukuna wrote you. Sure, you had ignored all his attempts to get in touch in the past few weeks. It didn't mean that you didn't enjoy knowing that he took his time to pester you with messages or take a break while driving between blackmailing some CEO for money and checking the status of the new cargo to call you five times in a row. Sukuna was persistent, if anything, and, as annoying as he was in his conviction that you still belonged to him, you found it incredibly satisfying to see him chasing after you.
However, since yesterday, the messages stopped pouring, your phone has gone silent, and your thoughts had turned your head into a mess. Did he give up on you already? Isn't that what you wished for, though?
"Thank you again for agreeing to meet." You said as the tall blond man came back to the table with your coffee. You argued that it was you who took him out so you would pay. Nonsense, he quickly dismissed you and remembered your usual order like it was yesterday.
"No need to thank me." He respectfully said, sitting down in front of you.
It was pouring outside, a quick summer storm that cooled off the heat of the previous days. It had started raining just after you met at the small café in your neighborhood.
You've known Nanami Kento since college. You graduated one year apart but you were part of the same friend group that ultimately didn't survive after graduation. However, you ended up working at the same company, until he resigned more than a year ago.
"How have you been?" He asked, taking a sip of his black, unsweetened coffee. Polite, as always, showing enough interest in your life while generally minding his own business, Nanami was the only coworker you ever really got along with. 
"Fine, fine." Both of your hands were wrapped around the cold glass full of iced coffee. "Work is shit, like always." He nodded slightly, showing you that you had his full attention. "Actually this is why I wanted to talk to you."
Adjusting to life without Sukuna was hard. You've grown so used to his presence in your life that you stopped noticing how much of a difference he made. He would be in front of your house, one hour after you turned off your work laptop, to pick you up and go for dinner. On days when you worked from the office you would meet for lunch, occasionally, or he would drop by with takeout. On weekends you would go on longer rides by car or sometimes you would hop on the back of his motorbike and go to the seaside. He was filling most of your time and, after that dreadful night, you suddenly realized you had no idea how to exist on your own.
So you buried yourself in work.
Sukuna always hated it when you worked overtime. But now that no one was texting you to be ready, entertain you with riddles about the dress code and your new destination, you found it easier to spend half an hour more fixing some issues at work. Soon it turned into full hours. In two weeks, you ended up realizing that you hated your workplace. You hardly got along with any coworker, the tasks were piling by the hour, the pay started to seem too little for the effort you were putting in. In reality, nothing had changed. Only your perception, since you had no way to blow off steam anymore. Things were easier to tolerate when you knew that you would see your boyfriend.
"I want to quit. I can't stand it anymore." Your fingers were cold and wet because of the glass. "I know you work at the institute now. If there's any vacant position sometime, could you let me know?"
You felt bad for turning to Nanami, honestly to anyone, asking for things. However, you felt the desperate need for a change in your life. Or maybe you tried to cope with the lack of Sukuna's presence in your life by changing it completely.
"I mean, we have similar background, we graduated the same program."
You felt anxious asking for a favor, especially since you haven't seen him since he resigned and only kept in touch through few messages. So you started talking too much, justifying yourself, trying to get rid of the little voice inside your head that was saying you're a burden.
"I don't even want a recommendation or something, the thing is that I know these posts aren't usually public and someone with connections ends up getting it before the normal person can apply.” The more you tried to explain yourself, the guiltier you felt. Nanami, on the other hand, patiently waited for you to finish, not interrupting or dismissing your worries.
"Of course I'll help, y/n." He said as he leaned back in his chair.
"Thank you. And sorry."
"No need. We're friends." You smiled gratefully. You could always count on Nanami.
You continued to catch up with him while munching on some pastries. You almost forgot to check your phone as often. It felt nice to talk to one of your old friends, especially since you had locked yourself inside your room for the past two weeks. At some point, over the muffled voices of people and the generic song playing in the café you heard the sound of a motorbike engine hurring on the street. You mentally cursed at your heart for beating faster, immediately associating the sound with the image of your ex-boyfriend.
"Yeah, so apparently they have been hooking up the whole time and everyone found out during the team building. It's only rumors I've heard since I didn't go." You were telling Nanami the latest gossip about some coworkers when you noticed he wasn't paying attention to your story. His eyes were focused somewhere behind you. He muttered a quick excuse for ignoring you and you turned your head to see what he was looking at.
Goddamn it.
Sukuna was piercing you with his gaze as he walked in the small café, having girls follow his tall figure with their eyes as he passed by them with determined steps. His pink hair was a mess because of the helmet he just took off and he ran a hand through his longer strands to put them back in place. You rolled your eyes when you met his gaze, clearly annoyed by what was about to happen. Somehow, coming to a small neighborhood café just to make a scene while looking unbearably attractive was easier than saying ‘I'm sorry’.
Sukuna hated when you rolled your eyes at him. Coincidentally, he found it very arousing. Being a brat was one of your specialties but it seemed that now you were testing his limits a little too much. You turned back to Nanami in an attempt to reassure him you could handle this on your own but Sukuna was already by your table before you could finish your sentence.
"You've proved your point. Let's go home." He said, looking down at you. He had his hands in his leather jacket's pockets, exuding a very laid back attitude, reinforced by the calmness of his voice. He was talking to you as if you were a toddler.
The fluttering feeling in your stomach at the sight of his handsome face, which you hadn't seen in over two weeks, was crushed by the curious and longing eyes of every girl in that damned café scanning your ex from head to toe. The mix of anger and disgust you first felt when you first saw that dreadful video had come back to every fiber of your body and you clenched your fist so tight that your nails were digging stinging holes in your palm.
"Can't you see I'm busy?" Your voice almost screeched while trying to contain your vexation.
"Y/n, I'm not playing this game anymore." He said as his large hand found the nape of your bared neck, your hair up in a high ponytail. The touch of his fingers on your skin sent bolts of excitement in your whole body, straight between your legs, and you had to rub your thighs together on the chair to brush the feeling away. Nanami sat up, ready to say something in your defense, but you had already slapped Sukuna's hand away and sat up yourself. He looked down at your smaller body with an irritated expression, the tattoos on his face making him seem even more dangerous than he actually was.
"Sorry, Kento-kun. I'll be back in five." You excused yourself with a smile before making your way out, your shoulder brushing harshly against Sukuna's chest on your way. He followed you out, and you knew all those girls' eyes were on his every move. The thought drove you insane.
"Kento-kun, huh?" Sukuna mocked you when you finally stopped under the roof in the empty inner garden of the café. Usually it was full of customers but now the rain was washing over the empty white metal tables and chairs with soothing tapping sounds. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pockets but you quickly whined in annoyance.
"Don't. I hate the smell.”
Both his eyebrows raised in a perfect mix of surprise and irritation, almost like he couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. You never bothered to mention this aspect whenever your eyes would follow him longingly from the bed as he would light up a cigarette after fucking you rough, one finger playing with your lower lip. He chose to dismiss the thought as his head lowered so his eyes could look directly into yours, one hand placed at the side of your head against the wall. The smell of rain combined with his familiar and comforting perfume had your knees weaken while you tried to challenge his inquiring eyes.
“It took you two weeks to find a new personality?” His look was intimidating. You weakly tried to push him away pressing your hands against his chest but he didn’t even flinch. He sneered at your false effort, enjoying the warm feeling of your hands still lingering over the fabric of his white t-shirt.
“Why are you here, S’kuna?” You asked. Every time you imagined seeing him again you hoped to express your anger coherently, determined to let every single speck of negative emotion out of your system. You wanted to yell at him, hit him, make him understand the ruckus raising inside your heart because of him. But now all you could do was look at him with pleading eyes, almost begging him to tell you what you wanted to hear, what would finally allow you to forget everything and let yourself fall in his arms again.
“I came to stop you from embarrassing yourself.” You rolled your eyes again, pushing him with more force this time. He was still unmoved. You crossed your arms under your chest, unintentionally pushing at your breasts. He could notice the slight movement at the edge of his field of view, without taking his eyes off yours. He loved that baby blue fitted t-shirt of yours, with lace around the generous cleavage. And you wore it to see Kento-kun. The way you said that man’s name echoed in Sukuna’s brain and the thought altogether made him lose his mind.
“No, you are embarrassing me.” You spat back. You couldn’t believe you really expected him to give you what you what you wanted so easily.
“Half the city knows you’re my woman.” His other hand grabbed you by the arm, as if trying to shake you out of your stubbornness. Or keep you there, so you wouldn’t leave his side, no matter if you wanted to.
“We broke up, do you need a public statement for that?” It was painful even to you to say those words. You never thought you had officially broken up, not as long as you still hoped Sukuna would get over himself and admit that he was wrong, that he would never do that again. Because he loved you. But you let those venomous words out of your mouth in an attempt to see him feel only a fraction of the hurt you were containing in your heart.
Sukuna didn’t answer. He didn’t have any smart reply for that. He looked at you in silence, the only sound echoing between the two of you being the tapping of raindrops on the ground. He really did think you were simply acting like a brat, dismissing his efforts to talk only to have him chase you. Sukuna knew you loved that and, from time to time, you would push him away so you could see him make an effort to get to you. He never understood your reasons, but he entertained your caprices, enjoying the occasional taunting resembling a mouse and a cat constantly on the hunt. This time, it didn’t seem like a game anymore.
You wanted to kiss him so badly. You wouldn’t allow yourself, though, but your eyes would move from his eyes to his lips, his plump soft lips that you desperately wanted to bite on. You had left him speechless, with a helpless look on his face that only made you pity him. Pressing your lips together, you forced yourself to leave, since your knees were weaker by the minute and your arms were aching to be around his neck.
As you turned away, his hand gently fell down your arm, the tips of his fingers brushing over your bare skin, and he grabbed you by the wrist, keeping you in place.
“Give me another chance.” Sukuna almost begged. It was a pathetic sight, the tall muscular man, dressed in all black, with tattoos on his face, his whole presence imposing and intimidating, begging a woman like you to take him back. It almost made you give up. Almost.
“Give me one good reason.” You said, surprised by the composure of your voice in contrast to the hurricane of feelings in your heart.
“I miss you.” His eyebrows were raised in a pitiful plea.
“You’ll get used to it.” It wasn’t enough. You tried to break free from his grip but he held on your wrist as if it was the only thing allowing him to breathe.
“Don’t you miss me, y/n?” There it was. When his deep voice and mesmerizing eyes were failing to reach you he would retort to emotional blackmail. Of course you missed him, you cursed at yourself when you hesitated to answer, when the loud voice in your head was screaming to you that yes, you missed him, you missed him so much and your entire life felt pointless, that you hardly enjoyed anything since you last saw him, that you missed his comforting words and his safe arms and his handsome face.
“Someone is waiting for me.” You said as he let go of your wrist.
Sukuna watched as you turned your back to him, your long ponytail wiggling in the air with every step you took further away from him. He hated to see you go. Leaning against the wall, he lit up that cigarette only after you were out of his sight. It was such a peaceful rainy day when everything seemed to have slowed down, drenched in the humid air. His eyes were fixed on one small table for two in the corner of the garden, protected from the rain by a tall tree. It was your favorite spot, in your favorite café where he would find you reading sometimes, while sipping on iced tea. You always laughed at him whenever he would pick you up from there. His dark unapproachable figure made such a big contrast with the softness of the garden full of flowers. Sukuna always thought you fit so well there, like a goddess of the spring with your flowy skirts and your pretty round face.
He sighed, a thin cloud of smoke forming in the air as it blew out of his mouth. You were so different, almost opposites. This is why you worked so well together, you completed each other. He let his head fall back, resting against the wall, as he looked at the sky that was already starting to clear up. He wasn’t going to erase that tattoo off his skin just as he wasn’t going to allow you to erase him out of your life.
《previous 1. Ultimatum next》 Ascension |
True Form! Sukuna x Reader
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tags: @siriuslyblackonback @rosaryia @st4r-s4r4 @depressiondiaries @sterzin @rowrowrowyourboat13
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berriblossom · 4 months
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Cold hands and warm love
[Date with Death : Casper x Reader] [i am positively obsessed with this man that he's making write again| spoilers for endings#3 btw and the story.]
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There's something so oddly soothing watching Casper sleep with Azrael in his arms, all snuggled up without a care in the world. His ghostly white locks sprawled against your shared bed sheets. His eyes ever so softly flutteribg against his pale cheeks, the rays of sunlight dance across his face, almost creating his own personal golden hour.
You chuckled at the idea. Casper wasn't a huge fan of super bright things. Even when you managed to convince him to walk outside your apartment with you, he dons a pair of black shades and scowls at everything. Now that you think about it, he's even more like a black cat than anything, rather than a sign of bad luck but rather for his sassy attitude and his dislike for certain things.
As you quietly watch from your desk, with your pet sitting in the empty sunny spot of the bed, you think back to how long its been since tou winning the bet and being a somewhat embodiment of life while your sweet little now former Grim Reaper is the opposite.
Goodness, one small picture shouldn't hurt? Besides, Casper can't argue with how many not-so-sly pictures he has taken of you randomly as of late. Even changing his profile pick of you sleeping with Azrael while you napped on your bed after work. He tried fighting it off, saying he mainly picked the picture because Azrael looked so good in it while you just happened to be there....no other reason...(he said this while fighting off a flustered face while gazing back at the picture. He then denied making it his lockscreen too.)
You picked up your phone and began to open the camera feature and angle the camera to get the best picture possible. Hell you even move from the desk to hover slightly over Casper and your pet to get the best angle. "Stay right there pretty boy....just perfect..." you mumbled while snapping a few silent pictures. You went to adjust his snowy hair to move from his beautiful face. Just as you touch his cool face, sleepy red eyes flutter open and the iconic pout appears on the reapers face.
"Sunshine....what are you doing? Why do you have your phone like that..." Casper's eyes flutter as he fights off the sunlight beaming through the blinds, all while his sour pout turns into a playful one. Your pet scatters away while Casper tries to snatch your phone away to see the sneaky pictures you've taken of his sleeping figure.
"Ah ah ah! Nope, absolutely not pretty boy, if you can take pictures then so can I!" You shuffle off the side of the bed while Casper jumps up to grasp your hand and to get those pictures. You tease and weave yourself away from him and the bed, sitting on the edge you laugh at how pouty and upset Casper is.
His frustration only exceeded when you decided to flash him the adorable and beautiful picture of him in his sleeping form. As casper has told you before, reapers do not need to sleep or eat. But the idea that he was so comfy in your blanket and bed, cuddling Azrael closely. It just made you want to tease your little reaper to bits. Though sadly your teasing and fun was put to an end.
Suddenly, you felt two strong cold hands wrap around your torso and squeeze you gently. You could feel Caspers lips against your neck as he mumbked for you to please delete the picture. As adorable and pretty as he could be in those moments...the little rat decided to try and tickle you to get you to give uo your phone.
Luckily you were quick enough to slip from his grasp again(heh get it) and make your way back to your bed while cherishing your sweet victory. "Sorry casp, but you look too good! I might make this my profile picture on the chat room too!" His frustrated groans on embarrassment only fueled your decision.
"Sunshin pleeasseee....just....atleast make it your lockscreeb to while your at it...since you can't stop looking and staring at me. Just can't get enough, silly mortal.." ah his ability to bounce back is incredible as ever. But still it was fun while it lasted. Casper came to join you on the bed while bringing you back close to him...somethibg about "being warm." But you did not mind.
You'll never mind, your soul brings him warmth, his perfect heater if youll say. You chuckle as he scrolls through his camera roll whie trying to find a picture of you(an god awful one) to place as his profile picture on the chatroom. Yeah its going to be a long day. But you never minded.
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bluemari23 · 4 months
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cake cake cake | jeon jungkook
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summary: your boyfriend eats the cake for a party and thinks he can get away with it
pairing: jeon jungkook x baker owner reader
genre: fluff, lil angst, established relationship
warnings: none
masterlist
------------------------------------------------------
“Now what did we say?” You had your hands on your hips as you looked to your boyfriend, a fork in his hand and a piece of cake in his mouth.
“That we wouldn’t eat the cake until after dinner.” Jungkook murmured the agreement you came to earlier, right after you made said cake, having at least a little decency to look guilty.
You stared at your boyfriend, trying to figure out why he decided it would be okay to start eating the cake you spent almost a day baking, having to let it cool for a couple hours before you iced it. 
It was the day of the 10th anniversary party for Bangtan’s debut and you were asked, well, more like bribed by Jimin and Taehyung to bake the cake this year. They could never get enough of your baked goods, often doing whatever they could to sneak them from the bakery whenever they showed up.
“Baby, I’m sorry! It just looked so good! I couldn’t help myself.” Jungkook got up from his seat at the kitchen island and moved towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist and trying his hardest to pout his lips as he spoke. 
“Everything you bake is just soooooo good, baby!” Jungkook knew he needed to up his antics, now trying to turn you away from the cake and press you against the island, stepping in between your legs to get even closer to you. 
You just let him move you around, enjoying whenever he manhandled you. You couldn’t help it, you found Jungkook’s strength so attractive. You watched him lean in, kissing you on the lips and then felt as he slowly moved down, kissing your jaw and then down to your neck where he knew you soft spot was. 
A sigh left your lips once he found it and your grip on his bicep weakened just a little. Jungkook knew he had you where he wanted you. He could see the anger leaving your body, the tension leaving your shoulders as you relax even further into his grip, allowing him to grab you by your hips and sit you on the counter behind you. 
“I’m still mad at you.” You let out, sighing at the feeling of him against you. Jungkook couldn’t have that though, and pulled back a little bit so he could see the small pout against your lips. 
“Please forgive me, baby. I’ll do anything.” He had no clue that he was doing exactly what you wanted him to do, playing right into the palm of your hand. 
Secretly, you had made a second cake, just in case something happened to the first one. It wouldn’t be the first time one of the boys had gotten into the cake before it was time, you just didn’t expect it to be your boyfriend this time. 
But you didn’t let him know that, yet.
“Anything?” You questioned, pulling back from him again and resting your hand on his shoulder. 
Jungkook looked a little taken back, but still nodded his head at your question. He really did feel bad that he let his impulse take over and eat the cake you worked so hard to make for their party.
“I’ll think about my request later. For now, will you get the cake out of the freezer and put it in the box? We’re going to be late for the party.” You pushed him away so you could get down, trying hard not to laugh at the dumbfounded expression on his face. 
“What? Baby, what do you mean?” Jungkook called out after you but you just shut the door to the bedroom behind you. 
Walking over to the freezer, Jungkook sees an almost identical cake to the one he almost finished eating. 
“Aish, this girl.” He laughed out, seeing now he had been played, intentionally or not. Either way, he still did as he was told, carefully placing the finished cake into the carrying box you had left out on the counter. 
It had been a while since you got in a teasing mood, and he couldn’t wait to see what you thought was an adequate punishment for him later tonight. 
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Text
“Please.”
Stiles stands there, chewing on his pretty crimson lips, pleading.
Derek isn't fully clued in yet, but honestly, the kid is kind of vaguely breaking his heart.
“Please, Derek, I'm really sorry about this, but please just—just don't say anything, okay? And just—let me?”
Stiles had texted Derek earlier, at 3.17am, presumably just before he’d set off from his house to drive his jeep to the loft.
Derek had been lying awake in bed, unable to sleep.
His messages had read:
> dude, i rlly need to come over. that ok?
And:
> ill let myself in if thats cool?
And after a few moments, in quick succession one after the other and before Derek had a chance to respond:
> and i rlly need u to just like. not get out of bed. presuming yr already in bed
> all shall be revealed
> lol i don't know why i put that
> and obvs tell me if any of this is not ok. ok?
> as if you wouldn't lol
> #sourwolf
> and yeah i know im being a weirdo but thats why you like me
And then, a few seconds later:
> right?
Derek had stared at the flurry of messages for a minute or so, then texted back:
Okay, weirdo <
About ten minutes later, Stiles had let himself into the building. Derek listened to the kid muttering away to himself as he rode the old service elevator—except it wasn't really himself he was talking to.
“God, I hope I'm not wrong about this. Like, I think we're close enough now for it not to be weird. I mean, at least I hope we are. I'm just so fucking tired, man, and have got to get me some sleep. Anyways, just—don't get up, okay? Or, like, can you get into bed if you're not already in bed? Sorry, I know I texted you this already, I just really need you to trust me. You do know you can trust me… Right, big guy?”
Derek's trust of Stiles was implicit.
When the steel door had unlocked and slid open, Derek smelled fresh, mostly unscented shower gel over the base notes of Stiles's own cinnamon scent, mixed with the very definite chemo-signals that indicated fear, restlessness, apprehension—and also, the strongest of them all; hope.
Let me.
Here, now, Derek still doesn't know what the kid needs.
Let him what?
Derek doesn't have any more time to wonder, though, because Stiles is taking off his sneakers and pants and is slowly, very slowly—as if giving Derek the chance to protest—climbing into bed next to him.
Stiles is now in Derek's loft in the small hours, in Derek's bed, fully under Derek's covers, with Derek wearing only his grey tank and black boxer-briefs and a probably terrified look on his face.
He silently thanks the universe for the cover of night.
“Like, you should obviously say something if this is completely heinous or whatever, but otherwise just—let me do this?”
And all Derek can think is shit, he's freezing, at the same time he is going into a some sort of dumbstruck shock because Stiles is now wrapping his entire sinewy, beautiful body around the entirety of Derek's.
“This okay?” Stiles asks, the air around them spiking with the smell of his anxiety as he Big-Spoons Derek like some human-shaped octopus, skinny but strong limbs astonishingly everywhere.
And he sounds so unsure, and so small, and Derek can't bear it.
Not giving the stoic part of his brain any opportunity to talk him out of doing this, Derek takes ahold of Stiles's wrist from where the kid had draped one of his long arms around Derek's midriff, and hangs on as firmly but gently as he can, manoeuvring them both around in the bed so that Stiles is now the Little Spoon.
“This okay?” he asks gingerly, mirroring Stiles because his own words are failing him.
Stiles says, “Yeah. Even better,” and his anxiety is melting away into something much more pleasing; something like relief.
Derek breathes out the word, “Good,” and feels a little dizzy and a lot amazed, and kind of like his heart is beating wildly in his throat.
The only reason he knows it isn't, is because Stiles says, “I can feel your heart thumping away in your chest, man. But, uh, I don't have wolfy senses, so… I can't tell if it's good thumping or bad thumping.”
Then he promptly stops breathing.
Derek resists the desperate, learnt urge to run away from this. He mentally shakes himself and figures: After so many years fighting monsters together, maybe he and Stiles can fight this one together, too?
He gives himself a moment to ride out the panic, then screws his eyes shut and, praying to nobody in particular, whispers, “Good thumping,” into the shell of Stiles's ear.
Stiles shivers and breathes again, but doesn't say anything else. For once, he doesn't need to. He just needs to sleep.
As the kid settles into Derek's bed and Derek's embrace and, hopefully, Derek's life, he smells like a mix of serene and content and promise—and also, wonderfully, of Derek, now.
Derek is a strange combination of relaxed and freaking-the-fuck-out because that's just the way he's made. His brain won't stop whirring at a speed of a million miles an hour, worrying about everything and nothing, all at once, and before he can bite into his lip to stop himself, he blurts out, “Cora says I sometimes dream-talk about Cajun Gumbo recipes.”
Stiles's only sighs, then hums quietly, his breathing already evening out almost to the point of sleep.
Just when Derek thinks he's not going to get any sort of real answer, Stiles mumbles, “Okay, weirdo,” on an exhale, and then he's drifting off into unconsciousness.
Derek settles then, and smiles into the nighttime thinking that maybe, finally, he might get a good night's sleep, too.
.
for @shealynn88, the bestest of friends. i love you and miss you always... <3 (unedited btw—forgive me!)
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jingsyuans · 1 year
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Hiya, saw that you're taking requests for Jing Yuan :3
I've read through a few of your fics and absolutely love the way you portray him <3
So I wanted to ask if you could write something with him where the reader is struggling with insomnia due to either nightmares or stress overload? (preferably sfw with fluff overload ples :3)
If you're not comfortable with that or don't get an image in your head is totally cool and u can ignore this, have a cookie for your troubles and great work 🍪
a/n: you’ll actually find there’s little I’m not comfortable with, anon! This turned out longer than I thought, I’m still in the stage with Jing Yuan where everything rambles on into a full story because I like him so much and my muse is strong HAHA
Themes: oneshot, prior to any relationship, late night vulnerability and Jing Yuan being smitten. Unedited.
⚝──⭒─Jing Yuan ; 3am ─⭒──⚝
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Jing Yuan was no stranger to stress and sleepless nights. It comes with the job, fortunately or unfortunately. He has no trouble falling asleep- he’s proven that quite enough with how he dozes off at inopportune times. His problem is more along the lines of having too much to do at night so it keeps him busy.
He isn’t sure what your version of sleepless nights looks like. He knows that you have them- he can tell from the drag in your step and the heaviness of your eyelids. He also knows that there might be several factors as to why you haven’t been getting much sleep lately, the sudden jumpy nature you have while at work is proof of that. But how to approach the subject? That’s something that requires some thought.
Your relationship was almost nothing outside of a work environment. Jing Yuan had made the steps to possibly progress it further, but his process was always step by step and rather methodical. Which, to put it simply, means that he’s rather slow. He doesn’t like to rush into things. You’ve taken his interest and he doesn’t want that interest to run out, so he ever so gently coaxes new information out of you every so often as to satiate his interest but still keep him hungry for more.
Your change in behavior as of recently presents on opportunity for the two of you to grow closer. Presents an opportunity for Jing Yuan to show he cares about you more than just a subordinate, but doesn’t hint at anything too excessive. A gentle nudge is what it is.
So he takes his opportunity once the two of you are alone in the Seat of Divine Foresight. Some would call it his office, which he supposes it is, but the room is too open and broad with Knights, secretaries, and officers always moving around inside and out. Really, the Divine Foresight is too public in a lot of ways.
But people must go home eventually to retire for the evening, and you usually leave with the crowd. But these past few nights you’ve been keeping him silent company in the large office, scribbling away at papers and clearly keeping yourself busy with things that could be done the next day. So it’s on one of these evenings that you share with him yet again that Jing Yuan decides to retire early. Early for him, anyhow.
He wraps up messily- his desk is always full so he never bothers to clear it off, leaving scrolls open and scattered. He at least has the decency to cap his inkwell to make sure it doesn’t spill, but that’s about all before he’s silently walking down the steps where his desk is and heading for you.
You don’t notice him hovering from behind. Your hand is in your hair, slightly tugging on the strands as you tap your pen endlessly on the desk. Clearly, you’re reaching a dead end. But you’re making no signs to stop your work just yet.
He’s careful, but perhaps not very thoughtful as he places a hand on your shoulder and watches as you jump. The smile is already on his face by the time you turn around, eyes wide open before seeing it was merely your general.
“Evening, ___,” he says your name carefully. It isn’t often that it’s after hours and there’s barely anyone around so he can drop the formalities. “Why don’t you wrap up here? It’s late, as I’m sure that you’re aware.”
“Ah, yes, general,” your eyes don’t meet his for long before you’re looking back to your desk, lips pursed. He doesn’t mind that you don’t reciprocate his casualties— clearly you have more prominent things on your mind. “Yes, it’s late. But I’ve still got work to do, so-“
Without asking- because in all honesty he doesn’t really need to, he’s your boss- Jing Yuan picks up the scrolls you were staring holes into. You splutter and hold up a hand to try and stop him, but freeze when he reads the work aloud.
“Curfew laws, scuffles with civilians, signing off on trade and market…” All rather unimportant affairs that don’t justify you staying late. He looks down at you and doesn’t say anything more, and by the way you sigh and look to the ground, he knows his point is proven. Putting the scrolls back down on the desk, his touch returns to your shoulder with a squeeze before he brings his hands behind his back. “I’ll lead you out.”
Jing Yuan at least lets you wrap up by yourself, gathering your coat and other things that you’ve been bringing with you to work for your late nights. He stands by the large doors until you’re ready, and when you begin to walk toward him, expression bitter, he chuckles aloud and opens the door for you.
“Thanks, general… I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” you mumble tiredly when the two of you exit the Divine Foresight, already heading off to the sky jetty where a Knight stands ready to take the both of you back. Jing Yuan doesn’t say anything as he follows behind you, letting you slowly clue yourself in. You give him a strange look once you notice he’s not heading back to the Divine Foresight. “It’s still rather early for you, general. You’re already headed home?”
The Knight boards the jetty and opens the sliding doors for you to enter, Jing Yuan sitting down inside first as you continue to hesitate and stare at him from outside.
“I’m not headed home just yet,” he tells you, answer vague and surely frustrating from the face you make at him. His smile just grows wider as he pats the seat next to him. “Come on, then. You shouldn’t make your general wait.”
That at least spurs you into action, your bag in your hands moving to your lap as you make yourself comfortable in the jetty beside him. The airship takes off in a smooth movement, and the trip is silent as it brings you back to the Exalting Sanctum. There’s a few times that your eyes flit over to Jing Yuan during the ride; each time he’s already looking at you and you quickly look away, posture tense.
Once the jetty pulls into the drop off spot, you basically jump out of your seat to get out first. Jing Yuan isn’t sure if it’s because you couldn’t wait to get away from him, or you were still being uptight because of the fact he’s your general and you didn’t want to make him wait since he was in the seat away from the door. Either way, he laughs at you.
“You know, from the way you’re acting I would say you don’t like me very much. But surely that isn’t true.” Jing Yuan cannot help but tease, continuing to stick to you like glue as you both walk away from the jetty’s drop off.
Your jumpiness that he observed before still proves true as you jolt at his accusation and shake your head, eyebrows tensely drawn. “No, you know that’s not it, general! Sorry- I… just wasn’t ready to go home yet.” Your shoulders sink with your sigh.
Beside you, Jing Yuan hums. “Understandable. But you don’t have to go home yet, you know.”
“What do you mean?” Looking at him, you purse your lips again. “I’m not going to just mill around aimlessly at this hour. I don’t need the Knights thinking I’m some suspicious figure and then I have to deal with the report at work.”
Jing Yuan laughs, quirking his brow at you. “That’s not what I’m suggesting, but it’s amusing to see where your mind goes. No, instead of stirring up more trouble for yourself tomorrow, I was thinking of dinner.”
“Dinner?”
You don’t realize where Jing Yuan has led you during your short conversation until you’re already there, the late night restaurant catching your eye with its lights still buzzing. The lanterns for dining are still on as well, dimmed with the late hour and reflecting red across your skin and dancing across your eyes as you look back at him.
It feels like a piece of you is slowly crawling back as you smile at him, laughing discreetly through your nose. “You’re not asking me out, are you general?”
Jing Yuan leads you to a seat, pulling it out for you with his own eyes gleaming with mirth. “Depends on how you look at it,” he comments, and once you’re seated he pats your shoulders. “If you don’t mind, I’ll order for the both of us. I skipped lunch this afternoon in order to go to a board meeting and I’ve never regretted something so immensely.”
Another piece molds back into place as you outright laugh at him and relax into the chair. “Alright, go ahead. I still remember when the rumors were going around about you eating pounds of exotic meat all by yourself, and now I’m wondering if they’re true.”
“The Gluttonous General,” he recalls, “yes, I remember that. I’ll leave it up to you and your own judgement, but I should remind you I have a two hundred pound cat, if that sheds any light on anything.”
“Oh, Mimi! How’s she doing?”
Jing Yuan smiles and startles you when he taps your nose, teasing as ever. “I’ll tell you once I’ve ordered.” He watches as you blush, visible or not it’s clear as day that you’re flustered and it’s his turn to laugh at you, albeit not unkindly.
Ordering is a quick affair. He’s already thought this evening through and knows exactly what he wants. Taking you out to eat isn’t exactly new to him either; there’d been a few times in the long years you’ve worked for Jing Yuan that you’d both have lunch together. Sometimes there’d be a third or fourth party, and sometimes it was just the two of you. From those times, though, he’s learned your tastes and has a fair amount of confidence as he orders your plate.
He comes back with a tray of brewed tea in hand. You look a little surprised that he’s carrying it himself, which he explains once he’s sat down across from you and places the tea on the table.
“I didn’t want to wait.”
The way you giggle at him is downright adorable, but he keeps such thoughts to himself as he pours your cup first and then his own. You hesitate before taking the cup he’s offered, and he shakes his head.
“It’s not caffeinated, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Your shoulders sink and you’re clearly disappointed, lifting up the cup to drink anyway. “Sorry to disappoint, but I didn’t want to contribute to your long nights more than I already have. Someone has to look after you.” He mutters that last part, perhaps revealing more than he should and how he feels- but he forgets that you’ve been sleeping horribly so you barely catch wind of his implications. The expression on your face is reserved, clearly a facade as you clear your throat.
“No, that makes sense. Thank you, general, I-“
“You know, it’s long past office hours.” Jing Yuan can’t help but interrupt you this once, bringing the steaming cup of tea up to his lips and blowing softly before he lifts his gaze to you. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t address me by rank. I understand the need to keep yourself at a distance, but there’s no harm in opening up at this moment and letting us speak as two individuals rather than subordinate and general.” He smiles once he’s finished. “It would make me happy to talk to you without those restrictions.”
Again, maybe he’s stating too much. But Jing Yuan has observed a lot in his time and he recognizes that there’s certain moments that call for vulnerability in order to show a favorable outcome. Of course, vulnerability is a tricky thing, which is why he’s normally so hesitant. There’s no honest way to predict emotions like there is fact and logic, so predicting how you might feel to his vulnerability is like taking a shot in the dark.
But in an odd way, Jing Yuan trusts you, and you haven’t proved him wrong to trust you just yet. Especially not when you finally open to him like a flower that hasn’t yet bloomed, your expression loosening and no longer trying to hide like before. It’s a beautiful process to watch.
“I can understand that… Jing Yuan,” you’re shy as you say his name, but your smile overrules that. You try to hide it by taking another sip of your tea, but he sees the edges of your lips upturned and the crinkle in your eyes and he counts himself as satisfied. “I guess I never realized how holding titles can keep the atmosphere stiff.”
“It’s subtle,” he nods along. “But I believe it’s there. Anyhow, you wanted to know how Mimi is doing?”
Your eyes light up, and he’s caught you- hook, line, and sinker. Your conversation becomes a lot less filtered and a lot more genuine as the night continues to tick by, becoming later and later and yet earlier and earlier, depending how you looked at the clock. The food comes by and he knows he made the right choice in your order- just like him, you essentially ravage your plate. That in itself is something not a lot of people get to see- at one point Jing Yuan scoops up some food with his hands and you catch it instantly, your eyes shining with the knowledge as you make eye contact and yet saying nothing at all as he licks his fingers clean.
He wouldn’t dare to be so untidy and messy around anyone else, but it’s all part of the process to show you that you’re unique to him. Around you, he does a lot of things he wouldn’t normally do around others. You’ll come to realize this and what it really means as more time goes on.
It’s once your meals are finished and you’ve got a fresh pot of tea as a palette cleanser that he strikes again, true intentions for tonight coming to light.
“So, my dear ___, tell me. What is it that’s keeping you in the Divine Foresight so late?”
At this point, you’ve relaxed considerably. The possibility of opening up to him has increased dramatically, and Jing Yuan knows you’re about to tell him by the way your demeanor shifts. You’re finally letting yourself look as tired as you feel by just the question alone and knowing you were about to answer it.
“It’s hard to talk about,” you start slowly. “But I guess it’s because I’m trying to keep myself busy.”
Jing Yuan nods along, helping you ever so slightly. “Because you don’t want to go home. And why is that?”
“Um… well, if I have to go home, I have to go to bed eventually. And… I can’t go to bed. I can’t sleep.” Your lips twitch as silence washes over the two of you. He doesn’t want to interrupt you this time, instead offering you the silence so you can gather your thoughts and how you want to communicate them to him. It’s a careful process. “Sometimes it’s just a product of my own design. I stimulate myself too much before bed with work or other things, and it keeps my head awake. Other times, it’s… a lot of nightmares.” You finally let the problem slip, eyes drifting down to your teacup as you smooth your fingers over the rim. “I’ve thought about getting things to help, but… mm.”
Jing Yuan takes a deep breath through his nose, nodding once to show his understanding. “I see. Nightmares are tricky things. And you’re right, I’m sure you’re already aware of the ways you can try and make them disappear, but… it’s a different story if you don’t want them to.”
Your eyes flit up to his, an inch of surprise on your face that he merely smiles at, his eyes soft.
“I’m no stranger to nightmares either. It can be easy to convince yourself that you deserve them. That you need them in order to remember what you don’t want to remember. What you feel guilty over, responsible over, fearful over.” Jing Yuan takes another sip of his tea, letting the flavor sink into his tongue before he swallows. “I have a lot of fears myself. A lot of troubles that could haunt me if I let them. I understand the frustration that you might be facing.”
Setting the cup down, he inches forward into the table just a little bit. “Perhaps this is unwarranted, but may I offer you some advice?”
You seem surprised. Still, you nod, allowing him to continue with interest painted across your features. He notices how you’ve inched along your own seat and says nothing.
“We live long life spans, longer than what was ever intended. With that comes a lot more burdensome and troubling memories than maybe we were designed to handle. It’s natural to have your mind caught up in the excess every so often, considering the circumstances.” His tone is gentle and unwavering as he speaks. “My advice to you is to not be a stranger. I may not know exactly what your nightmares are about, but I can see how they’re affecting you. Do not forget the life in front of you now, the ground you walk, the people you see.” His eyes wander as he talks, to the overhead lanterns that create a soft ambiance to the small creek that lined the Exalting Sanctum and split the land with bridges. “There are a lot of wonderful things waiting for you. Always, day to day. It might not cure your heartache, but that was never the intention. It’s not always about the cure, the end all, erasing it from existence. It’s about nurturing it, forgiving it, loving it, and making peace with it.” Jing Yuan looks back to you, tapping the surface of the table with his fingers. “As long as we are living and breathing and trying to make our way in this universe, I believe it’s our duty to keep an open mind to our pain and know that it’s not always a bad thing to bear as long as you understand the cause, the purpose, and the meaning behind it.”
The silence that follows is long and thoughtful, at least from his own perspective. There’s a chill of wind that blows by, the creek continues to babble, and you look at Jing Yuan like you’re putting together your own puzzle pieces for him just like he is for you.
“Yanqing is right,” you finally speak up after some time. “You speak in a lot of riddles and nonsense, Jing Yuan.”
His eyes widen at your comment, at first too surprised to do anything except state. But then he cannot help the way his head throws back, laughing a little too loud for this time of night. You laugh along with him, eyes squinting with mirth and teeth showing through your smile.
“But still, with that being said,” you continue after the first wave of his laughter has subsided, “I appreciate you a lot. Though what you’ve said doesn’t make sense to me quite yet… I think your actions speak louder than your words.” You hum as you look down at the table with empty plates and tea saucers, laughing to yourself as if it were funny. “Thank you for taking me out tonight. Thank you for noticing. It’s kind of you, Jing Yuan.”
“Well, I’m happy I’ve at least done something right tonight,” he says, scooting out his chair. You look a little surprised before you move to do the same thing, standing up with him as you take your tea cup and finish what was left. “Let me escort you home.”
“You don’t have to do that,” of course, to be polite, you refuse. Just as he knew you would. So he sighs in defeat.
“Alright,” he says. “I suppose I’ll just walk right behind you and be the suspicious figure you have to file a report for tomorrow.”
Jing Yuan thrills in the way you practically squawk with laughter, and just like that he’s walking beside you away from the restaurant, bill being paid for a long time ago. “You really don’t give me a choice then!”
“Mm,” his eye crinkles. “No, not really.”
“At least you’re honest about it.”
“I’m always honest.”
You laugh at him again, rolling your eyes without even trying to hide it from him. “Sure, general.”
The rest of the walk is filled with just as spirited chatter. It’s refreshing to Jing Yuan- while its true that he tends to prefer a mutual, comforting silence, it doesn’t mean he cannot enjoy the moment. He greatly enjoys it- seeing you become so unfiltered around him makes him hopeful and happy, though he tries not to show just how much. By the time the two of you arrive at your home, things finally quiet, and you thank him genuinely as you stop in front of your door.
“There’s no need,” he waves off your thanks easily with a smile. “It was a pleasure to be with you tonight. And I hope you know that while we cannot do it every night, I will always be open to the idea of doing it again.” He hums before continuing, smile dropping a fraction. “And I hope you know I don’t mind your late nights. It’s been nice having the company, but it would be better if I knew it wasn’t at your own expense. Take care of yourself, ___.”
He seems to tie your tongue completely, because you merely stare at him in response. Not that Jing Yuan minds- he always likes when your eyes are on him, especially like this- when you look so soft and precious that you could break without proper care.
He wants to take care of you, he does. But he’ll try his best to reveal that to you along with everything else later on.
“Thank you, Jing Yuan,” your voice is soft once it manages to leave your throat. “I… well. I-“ you seem to be holding something back, expression debating before you visibly steel yourself.
And then, beyond all his expectations and planning, you take a step toward him and wrap your arms around him, closing the space between you. What’s unfair is that you don’t even give him any time to recover from his surprise, don’t give him the time to reciprocate and hold you tenderly and take notice to how your body feels against his-
Because as soon as you came, you’re gone. Face flushed adorably as you avoid his eyes and move toward your door, muttering a wish of goodnight to him. And then he’s suddenly all alone in the chill of night, staring at your front door.
Once Jing Yuan recovers, he can’t find it in himself to even be disappointed. No. No, he can only smile, perhaps he is even beaming as he slowly walks away from your door and back to the station of jetties so he can head home himself. But he’s not so sure he’ll rest all that well tonight, not when his mind is busy going over the night with you. He thinks about everything you said and the opportunities birthed from your honesty. But of course, more than any of that, he’s thinking about what else he’ll have to do to get you to surprise him again. If all it takes is a little vulnerability,
Than Jing Yuan thinks it’s worth it to be vulnerable with you.
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