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faexoxoxoxo · 1 month

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ᴵ ᵖʳᵉᵗᵉⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃᵐⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ...

SUMMARY: when people ask how you met satoru, your response would be “at a club,” and while he'd smile and nod along in agreement, there was much more to the story…

PAIRING: bartender! gojo satoru x actress! reader

TW: 18+, masturbation, obsessive satoru...

A/N: part of my bartender gojo series but can be read as a stand alone, mostly satoru being a lil creepy shit... I mean fanboy!

It all started with a magazine...

During his proud bachelor days, Satoru had been a faithful subscriber to various porn sites and magazines. It wasn't that he had any problems with finding women to satisfy his needs; on the contrary, women at the club were obsessed with him.

One charming grin paired with a wink was enough to get anyone flushed and ready to drop their panties for Gojo Satoru. It was all just way too easy, and with the lack of challenge, eventually he lost interest in hooking ups.

Now, this particular magazine was one of his all-time favorites, so imagine the dismay when instead of receiving the usual erotic magazine, he found the latest issue of Vogue delivered to his doorsteps. A simple error on the mailman's part, and further proof to Satoru, that one simply couldn't find good service anymore.

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° .

Sighing with disdain, Satoru flipped through the pages. “Boring, boring, boring…” He muttered, preparing to dump the magazine in the trash. With his flawless skin and exceptional looks, what did he need this for!?

Just as he was about to toss it away, a particular image caught his eye - it was a picture of you.

Nothing much about the ad was special, except for you. Who'd been featured prominently, wearing a two-piece swimsuit and, holding up a bottle of sunscreen, with a charming smile that screamed, “Buy this.” clever sales tactic, using a pretty girl like you to promote products, and god, you were pretty.

Satoru could feel his heartbeat pick up as he studied your face; the cheery red lipstick enhanced your features, he was hooked, and the growing tent in his pants further served as evidence of just how much.

Turns out Vogue wasn't so boring after all…

“Hmmm...” he moaned softly, sliding his hands down his sweatpants to massage his growing hard on, his eyes fixated on the outline of your curves, the way the blue bikini clung onto your tits, and how the pantie strings were tied in a cute little ribbon. It'd be so easy for him to rip the flimsy fabric off you...

“Fuck.” Satoru groans, squeezing the tip of his pre-dripping cockhole. He wasn't going to last long tonight...

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° .

Getting you out of his brain proved to be impossible. Your face was always there in the back of his mind during whatever mundane tasks he'd been doing. In the shower, eating breakfast, at work, heck, even his dreams weren't safe, you'd wormed your way in them with the same kissable lips and sweet smile; it was like he was back to being a teenager boy with a puppy crush.

Two weeks after failing to distract himself, his resistance cracked, and he looked up your name online.

You were an actress...

That was the first thing Satoru learned. Not yet a household name, but a rising star nonetheless, with a decent amount of people seeming to enjoyed your works.

The second thing he found after obsessively scrolling through your social media accounts was that you had a boyfriend, Naoya Zenin. Now that was a name Satoru was familiar with—the regular VIP asshole at one of his clubs.

Lips twisting into a disgruntled frown, he stares at a recently posted picture of you with Naoya. What did you even see in this punk? He was an egoistical little shit...

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° .

The following evening, Satoru sat down to watch the very first movie you had a leading role in, a typical light hearted rom-com. in it you'd played the role of a clumsy assistant, oblivious to the fact that your boss had a crush on you.

Dispute the predictable plot, Satoru couldn't bring himself to turn it off; his eyes locked onto your every expression as it shifted from serious to flustered during the romantic scenes. You were good Satoru admired despite not having much experience then, you obviously had versatility.

As the movie's plot advanced, so did the romance; simple handholding turned into kissing and making out...

Every time the camera zoomed in on you and your costar, Satoru gritted his teeth, a bitter taste raised to the back of his mouth, watching as you moaned into another man's lips. It was absurd, irrational, and he didn't even know you, so where was this anger coming from!? Why did he wish it was him on screan kissing you instead!? Why did his want to punch the fucker for touching you!?

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° .

Safe to say, Satoru never watched any more of your works in the romantic genre again; his heart couldn't handle seeing you with another man...

What he did watch were interviews; he'd spent hours getting through every single one from the time of your debut, memorizing all of your preferences, from your favorite color to how many kids you wanted to the most used brand of perfume, shampoo and lotion.

He even bought a batch of perfume for himself, spraying it on his pillows and sheets, and using the lotion as lube whenever he'd fucked his fists to your pictures.

Eventually He'd lost count of the nights he spent lazily stroking his aching cock and imagining it was your little hands, or pretty lips on him ... those fantasies always ended with his cum splattered on his abs and the sheets. Not that Satoru minded the mess; he just wished he could have you there with him instead, longing to know how it'd feel to stuff your tight holes full of his cum...

Soon enough, his phone's wallpaper changed from the blank blue to a picture of you from your photoshoot for Vogue; he even hung a few posters of you in his closet, a little shrine dedicated to his one and only.

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° .

It took some time for Satoru's best friends to notice his twisted obsession with you.

Shoko was the first one to point out how unhealthy it was, “At this rate you'll end up becoming a stalker, and getting charged for harassment.” she'd stated after finding out about his little collection.

“Just fuck a couple of chicks and get over this one, buddy.” Suguru advised, not knowing of his blue-eyed friend's various failed attempts at doing just that.

Satoru had tried to fuck someone.

The girl was one of his regular clients, tall, slim, hot, and pretty confident. She'd flirted with him a couple of times, and he'd indulged in it, thinking, why not?

He took her to dinner and had a fancy hotel room picked out just for the occasion. But when he finally had her in bed, he couldn't go through with it. She felt wrong; her eyes weren't the same shade as yours, her laugh wasn't like yours, and the way she talked annoyed him, so he left.

He'd tried this a few more times with different women, but it always ended the same.

The closest he'd come to getting his dick wet was in his private room in the back of the club. She had the same hair color as yours, and Satoru thought if he'd pretend hard enough, she could be you.

But then he made the mistake of moaning out your name instead of Sasha, or was it Simona ? ... well, he didn't remember, but whoever she was had left him with a harsh reality check, and a red slap mark on his face.

So He stopped trying after that.

The next woman Satoru fucked would be you or no one else. Sure, you had a boyfriend; sure, you didn't know he existed, and sure, there was a chance you never would, but he was convinced, with enough money and time, you would find your way to him.

Until then, Satoru would spend his nights imagining what it'd be like if he could get a chance to show you just how perfect he was for you, and pretending like you were his all the damn time . . .

✎⁠ I'm trying to get out of my writing slump so hopefully this was a good start (ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠) asks are open for feedback and ideas so feel free to send me thoughts <333

✎⁠ likes, reblogs, and comments are very appreciated ♡

✎ the dividers are from @chachachannah header is from @chromesaine on pinterest

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controld3vil · 27 days

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atreides and bene gesserit

pairing(s): dune 2 cast x actor!reader (platonic), austin butler x actor!reader

synopsis: requested by this ask!

⤷ alt: as clueless as you were about your sister's role, it brought you much surprise and joy to see her on the same carpet as you.

notes: reader uses fem pronouns as she's playing a role as a bene gesserit. reader is also described as wearing a sleeveless jumpsuit. and i really enjoyed lea seydoux's performance and hope to see more of it !! this is also COMPLETELY separate from the first two posts ive made since the readers r playing different characters yeah?

When Denise Villeneuve asked you about the role of Lady Margot Fenring, you were genuinely shocked about his decision. You appreciated his works but have never gotten close to any of his sets before. You have worked with directors who've admired Villeneuve for his imaginative mind. And now, you witnessed his creativity in person for the first time.

The role was small and not as significant as the other main leads. Regardless, your character was just as enigmatic and complex as any other in the Dune franchise. Even though your time was short, it was a fun experience to learn and observe from. You weren't able to meet the entire cast after production, but with the NYC premiere, you were able to link up again.

You heard your name being called out. "Hello! How are you?" The well-known comedian and presenter by the name of Amelia Dimonberg was now beside you. In her jet-black corset dress, her style is chic and elegant. She hands you a microphone with the film's title plastered on it. "You look beautiful!"

"Thank you!" you sweetly recuperate, diverting your shoulders to the sight, cutely. You give a little pose before complimenting her own outfit. "You as well!"

"Do you have a memorable day on set that sticks out to you?" Amelia questions, subtly leaning toward your direction. And now you noticed her detailed eye makeup which enhances her outfit altogether.

"Well- I've had, like, only a few days," You let out a quick sigh. Truly it was nothing to be embarrassed about but you could not help but feel shy about it.

"Mmhmm! So all of them?"

"Yeah, all of them!" With ease, your shyness turns into giddy laughter as all you remember from your times on set. Recalling those tiny moments brought a small smile to your face. "Every day counted for me and that was enough."

"Oh absolutely!" Amelia chides, nodding in agreement. She quickly then moves onto the next question, "How long do you think you could last in the actual desert?"

"Oo that's a tough question," Lifting your fingers to rest on your chin as you try to contemplate an answer. "Ideally no- I feel like I could never recover from the heat."

"Yes yes, the heat's very intense,"

"Yeah- no I don't think I'd ever leave my house for that-" You shake your head nonchalantly, acknowledging how most of your scenes already were indoors. You could imagine how you would do in the desert of Abu Dhabi. It makes you appreciate the cast and crew even more for their effort to make filming more comforting and tolerable.

"Where would be your dream location to hang out? I'm assuming your home then since you prefer to say inside?" The blonde interviewer quickly catches on, eyebrows raising intrigued by your response.

Instead, you hummed bashfully, "Actually I think an oasis would be nice." The camera catches onto Amelia's face, fully fixated on you. "Which fits perfectly if I were to live in the desert actually!"

"Mm yeah, smart choice!" She responds more cheerily. "You can maybe go for a swim, you know-"

"Right right," You give her an playful look, "And you don't have to go thirsty!"'

"Absolutely, the best of both worlds," Amelia chirps, doing the same expression. "So this film centers a lot around dreams. Do you have vivid dreams of yourself?"

"Yes! I've uh- I've had many dreams of myself. I mean, this one, for example-" You turn to the camera, waving with the most adorable smile on your face. "'I'm living my dream right now!"

"You're living your dream right now!"

In another section of the premiere, you were walking down the carpet for press interviews and photography. The set where the premiere was taking place was gorgeously made in the shades of black and orange, the perfect theme of the film. The entire venue was outdoors, allowing you to feel the cold air and be more at ease in the crowded space. There were more paparazzi than you had expected, and you suddenly became aware that you were alone. Without any friend or acquaintance to accompany by, you searched aimlessly for a familiar face.

Then there was a holler. And then multiple more came after, it made you confused really. Your head swerves to the sound of the person you so try to look for and immediately you're struck in awe.

"Anya?!" In an instant, you're seen running towards your sister in the far back of the premiere wall. People were reluctantly used to fast-paced relocations around the carpet. Therefore most did not mind your hasty stumbles through the crowd. It was almost comical how apparent your demeanor changed when you heard her, in fact, videos and pictures caught all of it.

"Hi!" She beams in her white dress robe. Her makeup was glowing, making her skin seem angelic, and sheer without impurities. Her outfit covers her like a nun, covering her head and body in almost transparent cloth. Yet it flows around her so elegantly, almost like she was an angel from the stars. She squeezes your figure firmly, only after releasing to gush about your appearance.

You adored a beige sleeveless jumpsuit. The color is complimented with tiny designs of sparkle. Its seams captured your figure perfectly, as you also wore a gold chain and bulky rings. From the lighting, it looks as though your outfit is shining. And to be completely honest, you prefer comfort over the judging looks of fashion critics. Therefore you wanted to wear something that you could still move comfortably in. Thus you were able to run over to your sister with ease.

Through the other lens and camera, they could pick up some of her words after. "You look so gorgeous! How are you here?!" Anya's expression changes into a perplexed one as she gets a hold of your shoulders, shaking them back and forth.

"I was invited obviously, "You said, mimicking her voice while holding onto her arms on yours. "You didn't tell me you were a part of Dune!" Viewers from afar could tell you were pushing an act, reacting as though you were petrified about how Anya managed to be here in the first place.

"I didn't know you were either!" She giggled, closing in on your right ear. Your sister whispers to you slowly, trying to withdraw from the camera and recordings. "Villeneuve had mentioned something but honestly I just thought it was a joke."

It was your turn to guff. Your mouth opens wide flabbergasted, looking sarcastically offended. "Why would you think he's joking?!"

Anya scoffs lightly, wanting to go further with the joke. "I don't know- I just didn't take his word seriously,"

"Why? Because you didn't think I'd make it into the film?" You accused, eyes widening with a hand over your heart. "You're so cruel."

"So cruel," She smirks up at you, then moves back to be by your side. You see her face forward the flashing cameras, as you do the same. "Come! Let's take some pictures!"

"Your outfit looks beautiful by the way!" Anya Taylor muses, eyeing down at the fine details on your jumpsuit. "It's very... you!"

You give her a nod, before flattening some of the creases, "I thought this color was so exquisite, so I thought it would be perfect for the premiere." You lift your head to look at your sister, before realizing behind her, the upcoming stars of the film were getting ready to take cast photos. "Oh Anya- I think you should go!"

Your sister turns and then gazes back at you with a soft smile. "You should come with me!"

The thunder of cameramen and journalist blurred your focus for a moment. "Are you sure-"

Again the sound of your name is hurdled but this time from someone you haven't seen in a long time. Jessica Ferguson, who too wears a black body suit with veils and bold makeup. She waves her hand almost too eagerly to have you come closer alongside your sister. "Come, join us!"

Videos were filmed of the people gesturing to the cast of Dune in a line. Little by little, the row of people is filled and organized to be in the center of the camera's focus. Some actors had to move spots, due to lack of space or better color semblance on the other side of the row. You stood next to Jessica and Florence Pugh was beside your right, as you tried to stand closer for the picture.

Anya Taylor was on the opposite side, with Austin Butler and beside him, Timothee Chalamet. A noticeable clip taken all over was when the French actor went to greet the English actress, warmly, clasping her hand with both hands as a proper salute as on-screen siblings.

You did not mind the lack of attention. You were happy for Anya for achieving a great role. One with a welcoming cast and crew. It was then your eyes scanned down the row, from Zendaya to Stellan Skarsgard. Then to Austin, whom you've been familiar with since day one. Only him to find your gaze seconds later. You give a little nod and smile before averting your direction to Anya who is already staring at you with gleaming eyes.

You were going back and forth with Jessica and Florence on your travels for a while. From plans reception to favorite desserts, all you three wanted to talk about was food. Paparazzi caught onto your banter quickly and snapped a few photos. You even went out of your way to do silly poses. Followed by Jessica and Florence, then did the same, sticking their tongues out in a rock star kind of fashion. You throw out piece signs, giving a dramatic frown as another flash happens.

Catch-ups were definitely refreshing and fun. Thus why you nearly jump when Austin appeared behind you.

"Oh my gosh, hey!" You stuttered, giving him a quick hug to calm your nerves. "You scared me!"

"Sorry sorry! I just wanted to surprise you!" He leans his head slightly, allowing better eye contact. You felt a few taps on your shoulder and noticed Jessica and Florence scurrying away, with their thumbs up, all goofy and excited.

Your eyes make it back to his. "I would've said hi back at the cast photo, but you were so far away," Shrugging you dismiss your failure as a mild missed opportunity.

But Austin shakes his head in an averted manner. "No- Don't worry about it." You could already sense interviewers and others with microphones closing on you two. You were out in the open, and it's bound to happen. "I wanted to- you know, say hi to you in a less chaotic place."

"I tried looking for you but there's just so many people," You give your costar an exhausted look. It was then a keen young man approached the pair of you. It was the People magazine, as you became aware of the logo alongside their camera and microphone.

"Hey, would you two mind a short interview for People's magazine?"

Truly, this was what premieres were about. The cast and crew meet with fans to show what they have worked so hard for. You brought you no better satisfaction than to praise everyone's efforts. The interviewer then proceeded to have a quick introduction of you and Austin beside you. You both had separate microphones in each hand. Once the video started rolling, you peered at the camera and gave the audience a grin.

"So how are you guys doing? Met all of your lovely cast members yet?"

"Oh absolutely," You emphasized every syllable, nodding. Austin only glances at you in amusement. "It's crazy how many people are here I was so overwhelmed!"

"Yeah, it was pretty crowded," The male actor adds, lowering his microphone slightly.

"Hopefully it will die down!" The interviewer beams. "So what was it like getting to know each other in this film? How was the first day on set like?"

"Oh, well it went very smoothly," You start, staring up at Austin in approval. "Even though my time was short on set, I feel like we had a pretty good rhythm starting out."

"I was about to say! The scenes with Feyd and Lady Margot were really something!"

"Why thank you, we appreciate it," Austin nervously laughs, scratching his ear.

The interviewer takes the lead to discuss your preparation for the role and how it was working with Villeneuve. As new characters, you and Austin both talked about your views on both of your characters. Both are very different yet mysterious to the viewers. Additionally, you two were introduced in a similar scene of the pit fight. The People's Magazine interviewer was compelled to compliment Austin on his opening scene. You knew he had practiced the choreographed fights vigorously. And of which you were lucky to witness on the days that you were present.

"It was completely freeing and different than what I was used to doing," Austin probes, leaning toward your direction. "Were you there for the pit fight?"

"I think I was," You turn, similarly. "I remember watching from afar and thinking wow." Immediately you could sense him eagerly looking down at you with a sly smile. "He was- Austin did amazing with the fight choreography, I was impressed!"

"Was this the first time seeing him in full costume too?"

"Oh yes!" You bonked your hand on your forehead, "He was and I just- couldn't believe it was him!"

Suddenly Austin jumps in, "She was startled when I first came up to her in full costume."

"You came out of nowhere, by the way!" You rebutted, giving him a side glance.

"I didn't mean to," As he tries to reassure his actions, "I wanted to give a good first impression!" It was humorous how playful you two were together despite having dissimilar filming schedules. Though most of your scenes involved Butler, your friendship only became more apparent weeks after working together. It was off and on for months at a time due to being busy in other countries simultaneously.

Eventually, you were able to link up again weeks before the premiere. After waiting a long time to meet up, you almost felt relieved that you hadn't seen your costar in a while.

"And Austin, how was filming with her?! From a character's standpoint, what kind of dynamic do you see playing out?" The People's Magazine interviewer perks up, having the camera transition from his face to Austin's.

"Well I'd say, she's great. You know I've got to meet a lot of amazing people in this film. And," He says your name sincerely, "She's- she's one of those people. I can't say much for Lady Margot and Feyd's relationship- you know there's a lot of that's still not uncovered. We don't really know what's happening but kind of have an idea of something. And to have such a great actress like her, it makes everything feel authentic and- feel the tension." It felt as if you were in a daze, eyes completely focused on his words with such admiration and grace. Before you knew it, you were smiling as if you had won the best possible prize in the world. His compliments to you meant more than you had anticipated really.

Unbeknownst to you, the cameraman had caught your lovestruck expression before directing attention back to the interviewer. "And how about you, Miss Margot?"

"I'd say it's the same," Now looking at the interviewer, only momentarily back at your costar. "Austin's- he's great at all the stunts and acting like a scary dude. Every scene with him was fun to do. Like he's all serious in character but once they yell cut! he's so nice and funny!" Your bubbly laugh breaks as you can feel your face growing hot.

"Well I appreciate you liking my humor," Austin pokes fun at you, fanning a little air towards you.

You mutter a soft thank you! before continuing, "And he's dedicated you know? I remember one scene, a little spoiler, where Feyd is about to be tested by Lady Margot, and I just couldn't do it! I couldn't keep a straight face!"

"Really?!"

"She just kept breaking, I don't know why," The actor shrugs, his attention closely drawn to you. "We had a few takes on a few days."

"We did! We did!" You gave a big frown, "You just have a really distracting face."

"Do I?" Austin asks, between the lines of teasing and coolly.

By the time, other premieres had occurred, people were still focused on your interactions with Austin Butler. Your chemistry on and off screen on the carpet was hilarious. And with how polarizing your characters were, it made many clips of your shared encounters gain attention.

A few short videos were recorded after the People Magazine interview of you and Austin, bashfully talking behind the stage. The two of you went back and forth whispering in each other's ears about what was unknown to the viewer. Through a bird's eye view, the video also catches you hugging your arms before zooming in on Austin's placing an arm around your figure.

Another clip that had been reposted many times was when you both took duo pictures together. As you comfortably shift your weight on one leg, as you turn to have your side face the flashing paparazzi. Whilst the Elvis actor stands beside you at a pleasant distance, doing the same pose to the other side. There was one instance where you lifted your head to make eye contact with your eyes instantly brightening. As Austin's smile widened, only to blow air in your face.

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tootiecakes234 · 14 days

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The Nanami brain rot has taken over😭

Here are random Kento Headcanons:

SFW:

You will not pay for a single thing whilst in this man presence and will feel completely insulted if you even THINK about paying yourself.

His nicknames for you: darling, my love, sweetheart, angel, my good girl🤭 and Y/N(only when he’s being stern with you)

Spoils you and I mean spoiled rotten. You have hyper fixations, he completely indulging you in whatever it is. You have a hobby, he’s providing all the supplies you need to fulfill it.

As soon as you start spending nights at his house, his bathroom is fully stocked with everything you might need, he keeps your favorite foods on deck and buys several changes of clothes for you to keep there.

He works and often but any free time he has is spent with you. You are the only reason he ever takes vacation time. He will whisk you away to a tropical island for a week and indulge you both.

He gets so tense from work sometimes and having you work out kinks for him and generally just give him much needed massages is his favorite thing in the whole world.

Nanami also really likes buying outfits for you to wear. And will lay out outfits for you to wear on random days.

If he has the time, he always cooks for you but he really appreciates that reciprocate that and cook for him on days when he doesn’t have the time.

NSFW

This man has 3 vastly different sides to him and bed and it’s really just depends on his mood which one you’re going to get.

You have the adoring Kento who worships your body like you’re a goddess. Kisses & caresses like you’re the finest of china. He has nights when all he cares about is your pleasure and he’ll be between your legs for hours without ever finishing himself.

Then you have the needy starved Kento that ravages you like, simply put, a whore. Will put your down on your hands and knees and fucks your mouth like a cunt. Pulls your hair while fucks into your from behind telling you how filthy and sloppy your cunt in in your ear. This Kento also borders the line of being an exhibitionist.

And the the 3rd kento that LOVES to tease you. Where he touches you all day, kissing your neck and behind your ear but when you get home will act like nothings happened and waits until you beg him to fuck you. The one that brings you to the brink of orgasm over and over but never letting you finish until you start crying. This kento is also borderline exhibitionist.

Not matter what side of his you get tho, afterwards he is right back to being the devoted boyfriend/husband with the immaculate aftercare.

Also think this man is very into anal play so beware of his slipping fingers and toys into no man’s land.

He will offer to bring in toys very early in the sexual relationship because he understand they are an enhancement to your pleasure and he’d never deny you. He also has toys he likes you to use on him as well.

Loves tying your hands together or to the headboard while he has his way with you. Usually uses of his ties to do so.

Anyways…. I can’t stop thinking about him. In my current daydream we are buying our first house together and these are re couple of the Headcanons I’ve imagined so far🤭

Also I didn’t proofread so🥺 don’t be mean.

Kento Nanami Masterlist

#imagine #jjk kento #kento nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #kento x reader #kento nanami #kento #nanami kento #nanami jjk #nanamin #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami smut #nanami x reader

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deadsetobsessions · 10 days

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Once more the hallucinations hit, and once more I am here writing it out.

My brain is fucking terrifying and I want out, so bad. This came to me in the form of a nightmare.

Also, please don’t take the timeline into consideration, because I have no idea what’s going on. Again, nightmares and dreams tend to not have the best coherency when it comes to plot and timelines. The reincarnation doesn’t have a name, I was too busy feeling terrified. Shit in parentheses was how I experienced the nightmare. Everything else is just me adding sprinkle sprinkle.

——

Ra’s al Ghul.

Talia al Ghul.

Two names that she had been aware of, in the peripherals of her hyper fixation. Two characters meant to enhance the story of the Dark Knight. Side characters, on a good day. Perhaps, a main antagonist on a better day.

On a bad day?

Main characters. Real, living people. Real, living, breathing assassins.

Unfortunately, they’re her new family. One she remembered coming into, bathed in a pool of blood and screams.

She was not a baby.

She is now, a baby. The first of Talia al Ghul’s children. The eldest, once Damian al Ghul was born.

Swaddled in emerald green and gold silks, she was presented to a man with silver streaked hair and a receding hairline. He too, was robed in green and golds.

“A daughter, Talia?” He rumbled, the smooth Arabic flowing out of his mouth failing to hide the acrid disappointment. The child, past the haze of confusion of suddenly being deported from her own adult body into one of a helpless child, felt a stirring of irritation. It’s good she learned the language, because now she knew exactly how Ra’s felt about her. The child grumbled a displeased sound. Not that she would have ignored the fact that her grandfather was Ra’s al Ghul. (He smelled like moth eaten fabric and blood- but I think that was because my cat accidentally scratched me.)

“My apologies, father.”

“Do not tell the young detective of this. Had it been a son, perhaps things would have been different. No, a daughter would only hinder him.”

Talia bowed, hands tightening on her daughter. “May I raise her, father?”

“A resource is still a resource. Go ahead, Talia.”

“Yes, father.” Talia took the dismissal and bowed before leaving.

On her way back to the room with the reincarnation’s crib, Talia al Ghul stroked her daughter’s head.

“I wish you were born a boy, my daughter. I am sorry my beloved will never know of you.”

The reincarnation looked at her new mother. She’s young, the woman-child realized. A teenager.

“You’ll have to be useful, my daughter. Your grandfather is not so kind as to keep the useless. I… do not wish for your death,” her mother muttered.

Great. She got new life and it’s already in danger.

——

She learned to swing a knife. Swords. She learned and devoured the teachings. She learned to be useful.

But then they asked her to take the life of a man who did her no wrong.

Her baby blues clashed with her grandfather’s Lazarus green.

She was still young. A child.

“No.”

“No?”

“He did no wrong.”

“He failed, granddaughter.” Ra’s smiled down at her, patronizing. Cruel. “Perhaps you possess your father’s heart, and you are foolishly sentimental, as women and children tend to be. But in the end, you are an al Ghul and you will obey. Plunge in your blade and I will reward you.”

The reincarnation looked at the man kneeling in front of her, resignation and a hint of pity in what little she could see of his face.

She’s already died before. What did she have to be afraid of?

“No.”

They tried to beat the weakness out of her. It didn’t work.

——

The reincarnation stared at the mirror, left alone in an opulent cage of gold and emeralds and precious stones that meant little to her now.

Her hands traced her back, small fingers finding purchase in soft skin. Her mouth opened fruitlessly, noise refusing to escape. She still felt the burning magic, the brand her own blood had carved into her skin and soul because she refused to kill. The chains her grandfather had shackled around her with magic and cruel amusement.

She had killed him, in the end. Obey, or be punished. Her body had moved without her permission, the reincarnation a prisoner in a body that refused to do as she commanded. The knife swung, a life taken, her hands dipped in red.

She learned a valuable lesson that day.

There were things worse than death.

“This is an order, granddaughter.”

The Magic had flared a searing heat at her neck, forcing her to kneel on broken legs. Ra’s loomed above, authority in his voice. She was bound to obey, regardless.

“You will never speak another word of affection, you will never speak another word to anyone unless I allow it. Perhaps this will teach you of your folly, and your place in this world.”

The loss of her freedom and the fear that came with it was a bitter and devastating lesson.

——

Ra’s al Ghul was so much worse than what little she knew of him.

She was right to be afraid for herself.

Her mother had worried, when she’d withdrawn and refused to speak to her. Even if she could, the reincarnation would not have wanted to. The reincarnation had felt furious, back then, when she thought of Talia. Her mother who refused to protect her. Her mother, who claimed she loved her but refused to see the chains Ra’s wrapped around her neck. She who plied the reincarnation with a supportive hand but forced her into the fighting pits.

But, as the reincarnation stumbled out on bruised and used legs from Ra’s al Ghul’s meeting chambers where he had allowed his business partners to partake in her, she realized that Ra’s was a monster in a human’s body and her mother was a victim of his making.

The lesson Ra’s taught her that day was that if she was not useful, if she did not kill, he would take what was left of her and make use of her.

Hate flared in her heart, and the beginning of Ra’s downfall began the day he let her go from the chambers alive. Injured, but alive. Injured and violated, but alive and furious.

——

She carved her hate and rage and helplessness and fear in the bodies of the people he bid her to kill. Her silenced screams were expressed in the way she splattered blood, the way she covered herself in it. A killing machine first, a stress reliever second, and a child… wasn’t on the list of things she was allowed to be.

His enemies were felled, one after another. He gave her his approval, something she detested.

But still, she continued, bodies racking upwards, tens turning to hundreds, hundreds edging into thousands.

The red in her ledger became ichor and guilt. Her language became violence and obedience.

“You have become a sharp tool, granddaughter.”

She was a genius, after all. And now, she could not disobey. A blade that Ra’s believed will never point towards him. She kneeled. She obeyed.

“Thank you, grandfather.” Her words were only allowed to come out- without searing, terrible pain- when she was thanking him. She tried not to do it as often as he wanted. He thought he broke her when he read the obedience she carved into her body language.

But she never bowed. Never. Not to him. Never.

——

“My weapon could learn much from your granddaughter,” David Cain sat across from Ra’s, wine in their stupid goblets. How she detested the green and blacks he’s seen fit to dress her with. She’s dressed provocatively, not of her own choice. She doesn’t have much of those- doesn’t have much in ways of choices- these days.

She was twelve, and Ra’s al Ghul deserved to die.

“Her combat is a higher form of what my daughter has achieved. How did you do it?”

When Ra’s began to reply, she slipped away.

She found the girl. She found… the cage- the black box- the child was placed in. The child flinched from her when she opened the metal box, fear only easing as the reincarnation kept her body language neutral and kind. (It was pitch black, and about the size of like, a closet. No light. Only from whatever door the box had.) (Cass’ hands hurt from banging on the walls to be let out)

David Cain’s daughter, her mind whispered, the memories of another life once more making itself known.

“Cassandra.” She whispered, regretting it immediately when pain wracked her body. She fell to her knees as the punishment for disobeying an order slammed into her.

The girl looked at her in concern, but did not move closer. The reincarnation stared at this girl and saw a reflection of herself.

David Cain would be here for a month. She will free Cassandra in those days.

——

The weapon stared at the girl in front of her, kneeling in pain.

She did not understand.

The girl came back. Water. Food. Kind.

The weapon felt warm. The girl was quiet. No sounds. Good. The weapon knew the girl understood. The weapon thinks that the girl is a weapon too.

The girl comes back, again. This time, she makes a sound. It hurt her, but she did it again. The weapon understands when the girl points at herself and repeats the sound. The sound means the girl. The girl expects something from the weapon.

The weapon makes the sound, flinching to see if the owner will come to punish it. The girl purposefully sits, relaxed but vigilant… and protective. Of the weapon?

The weapon relaxed. It repeated the sound, pointing at the girl.

The girl smiles, in pain. But approval. The weapon feels- the weapon is warm, like under the blanket. Approval.

The girl teaches her to make sounds but the weapon communicates without it. It does not like the sounds, does not need them, but the girl seems to think it’s important.

The weapon likes the girl, so the weapon learns. They still understand through no sounds, through reading each other.

The girl comes back, silently. Secretly. The weapon does not notify the owner. The weapon feels- does not want to.

The girl- the girl with the sound- she says a different sound. Her body tells the weapon that it’s important, this sound.

And when the girl points at herself and says her own sound, then points at the weapon and says that new sound again, the weapon begins to understand.

The girl had given the weapon her own sound.

“Cass—n- ra.”

“Cass,” the girl said, and Cassandra understood.

“Cass.” Cassandra pointed to herself.

The owner wanted- wanted Cassandra to end a life. Cassandra watched the owner kill and gesture to the dead thing.

Cassandra did not want to.

When Cassandra is placed back into the pitch black box, she waited for the girl.

The girl came.

“Don’t want.” Cassandra clung to her, reading the welcome and the sadness in the girl’s body. Cassandra tucked her face into the girl’s shoulder. She is cold. The girl is warm.

The girl hugged her back. The girl understood. Sadness hardened into lines of determination. Cassandra felt… light. Felt hope.

Cassandra slipped away from the place, water in her pack for the dessert and money to run from the country. The girl stayed behind, seeing her off. The girl tells her to never come back.

Cassandra did not want to leave the girl behind, but the girl could not go.

“Be free, Cass.” The girl had whispered through the pain. “For the both of us.”

——

Her grandfather knew. He allowed David Cain to break her, not kill because she was of use to him still, as a lesson. She found that she hated his lessons. But, she hated his attention more.

And still, she could not regret. How could she, when Cass trusted her with what fragile hope she had?

So, she lets him beat her, and provokes him with smirks and fearless eyes because the longer he’s focused on her, the more time Cass has to run.

Then, he gets too angry, and insults Ra’s, whose eyes grew cold. Her grandfather gestured and while she usually hated the command that followed that gesture, she could not feel that hatred now.

She got back up, legs broken and arms twisted once more, and attacked David Cain.

Ra’s would not follow Cass. Not when she was not his business to deal with, and not when David Carin’s fury amused him so.

David Cain would not follow Cass. Not while she still drew breath. The reincarnation stood, and threw herself at one of the best assassins of the century.

She tore his throat out with nothing but her teeth. She felt, for once, not like a monster. Not even when Ra’s nodded in approval and ordered for David Cain’s broken body to be cleaned up.

——

She’s been granted a mission in New Jersey, once her months of discipline- of torture- ended. She does not get ordered to find Cassandra. She’s fourteen now, and as silent as ever. Her mother had adjusted to her silence by then- long ago, actually, taking it as a quirk her daughter had developed. She hadn’t been a terribly vocal child, after all. Talia praised her for being useful even as a woman- the self degradation something the reincarnation had no doubt Ra’s had insidiously trained into Talia- and for being loyal to Ra’s.

Sometimes, she hates Talia for being- for-

Never mind. She couldn’t afford to hate anyone else.

She killed her targets early, determination and wistfulness urging her movements into sharp . Then, she made her way to Gotham and slipped into the city of darkness- where her father was.

She watched as he hid in the shadows almost as easily as she did. She watched as he flew and glided with the younger Robin. (He was younger than her by a year. She checked.) He was free. They were free.

She wished…

As she turned away, she saw a child tumbling from the edge of a roof. It was an instinct she’d thought Ra’s had managed to bury after the months he’d spent making sure she killed only children.

She hated him.

She caught him, swooping in and tucking him against her side as she plucked him from the air and plopped him back onto the crumbling roof of Gotham’s slums.

“Oh, thank you! So much- are you a vigilante?” The boy asked, looking at her masked face. It’s a good thing she wasn’t exactly dressed like a regular League operative.

She shook her head. Her eyes fell onto his camera, faint memories rising once more. She had an inkling-

“I’m- uh- Tim!” The boy introduced himself nervously, edging away from her silence. “Thank you for saving me…?”

She nodded. She pointed to the camera, tilting her head.

“Oh- you… want to see it?” He clutched his camera closer. Oh, he did have some sense of self preservation. She wondered why a seven year old was allowed to roam these streets… but she did worse at seven.

She held her hand up and back up. The boy hesitated, and then showed her the camera. “Uh- I took pictures of Robin and Batman!”

They sat on that roof for hours, and she let Tim Drake tell her stories about her father and his son. Ward. Son.

She could tell that Tim didn’t have anyone to listen to him.

She didn’t have long until she had to go back or risk severe punishment, but… she could make time for Tim, to listen to him.

She wondered if Cass managed to escape completely. She wondered if her sister all but in name and blood learned how to smile.

——

Tim had never had a friend before!

She listened to him! And gave him hugs the one time he was brave enough to ask! And she seemed to like Batman and Robin as much as he did! No one who didn’t like them would listen to his endless rambling otherwise, right? (Tim was super skinny, like ribs poking out skinny. He looked like a sickly Victorian child and he was kind of cold)

“And then, Robin went like this,” he pantomimed the awesome punch Dick Grayson did on a Joker goon. “And the guys got knocked out just like that!”

His new friend nodded, looking interested.

“Sorry, am I talking too much?” Tim asked anxiously. He didn’t want to make his friend hate him!

She shook her head, and gestured for him to continue.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.

His new friend was so cool! She even taught him how to throw a punch and to fight!

——

When she had to leave, she prepared Tim for it.

“Do you have to go?”

She nodded and placed a hand on his head, ruffling his hair. Her other hand held a duffle bag with an assortment of weapons she carefully kept from him. (One of the blades still had guts on it, which, ew.)

“Try not to fall off anymore roofs, little photographer.” She said, smiling at his shocked look before leaping away.

“Wait, you can talk?!” He shouted at her back. She smiled a little wider.

——

“A son, this time.” Ra’s al Ghul’s voice echoed in his disgustingly flashy throne room. It rings of approval.

The reincarnation stood behind her mother, eyes cast downwards.

“Well done, Talia. I finally have a worthy heir.”

Damian al Ghul cooed.

The reincarnation was scared. But… she could not allow her younger brother to be trapped like she was. She’s fifteen now, a decade of slavery having worn her down and nearly broken her. But with her brother… no, she could not allow it.

She met her mother’s eyes and knew then that they agreed. Protect Damian, at all costs.

She ignored the sting of envy. So what her mother could not find it in herself to protect her daughter? So long as she protected Damian, it didn’t matter.

Maybe she didn’t matter. Maybe she wasn’t worth anything. Maybe- maybe- maybe.

She also ignored the seed of disgust she had for mother’s actions in conceiving Damian. She couldn’t do anything about it. Talia was also a victim.

A louder voice in her asked if she could really excuse that, when Talia had a choice and she chose to hurt and violate Bruce Wayne like that. She wondered if she could truly ever forgive Talia. She wondered if Bruce Wayne got therapy.

——

She stared at the tome in front of her, eyes blank. (Actually, she had no eyes. Like? Empty sockets, but then later she had eyes???)

The brand- the shackles- the chains could only be broken if Ra’s died. She wasn’t opposed to that. But if he died, so did she. She couldn’t even kill herself to get out, because the chains would be there even if she died. If she was revived- a high chance, thanks to the fucking pits- then the chains would still be there.

Perhaps… she could use the pits?

Her mind turned and turned.

——

“This is your ukht.” Her mother pointed at her. Damian stared up at her, and she melted. Her brother was too damn cute.

“Ukhti?”

She nodded as her mother smiled in joy. “Yes, habibi.”

She was better at hiding the pain, now. She was better at enduring it, too, that fucking burning feeling. She spoke more, but only to Damian.

It would not do for her brother to grow up not knowing how to receive verbal expressions of affection. Not like she did, in this life.

Still, it hurt to speak. But then, she had an idea, based on Cassandra.

She could not speak, but speaking wasn’t the only way of communication. She’ll teach Damian sign language- standard, as commanded- but also her own version. Yes, she could do it. It wouldn’t be hard.

She was a genius, after all, and creating languages wasn’t as hard as people seem to think.

——

Damian copied her, small fingers patting his hand four times.

She did it back to him. “I love you.” She tells him, with sounds and with motions.

He does it back, excitedly, because he had a secret with ukhti!

——

Sometimes, she dared not to touch Damian. She wants to ruffle his hair and give him hugs but the ichor on her hands reminds her to not get to greedy. She did not deserve it.

Not when her hands were stained with the lives of so many people.

——

Another mission.

She was twenty now, and not much closer to escaping her bonds. Though, once she hit her majority, Ra’s lost interest in her in that way. A blessing, even if she had to seduce his “business partners” into giving him better deals more often now.

She stops by Bludhaven. The Robin she watched so many years ago- six, by her count- had grown new wings and moved. She wanted to see if he could fly still.

He could. He flew as free- no, freer than his days as Robin.

She dipped away to complete her mission (nuclear weapon trading, really?) and swings back to see a spider trying to break the former Robin’s wings.

“No.” Nightwing whispered, staring upwards at the cloudy sky blankly. “Please, stop.”

She didn’t need to hear any more. She saw red, and dove feet first straight onto the spider’s head, knocking her out.

She picked up a near-catatonic Nightwing, and helped him to his apartment. She left Tarantula in the rain and felt zero guilt about it.

He changed mechanically, some kind of instinct keeping him from removing his domino, but it was a bit pointless considering she escorted him to his personal apartment.

She watched as Nightwing slipped into an exhausted sleep before leaving. She had a spider to squish, and traces to hide.

——

Dick wakes up, drained and exhausted. He… someone saved him.

He sees a scrawled note, handwriting impeccable enough to be a font, written with his pen. He picked it up from his table, and his eyes tiredly read the message.

“Don’t worry about Tarantula. Or your identity.”- A friend.

He remembered- the mask- the mask of the stranger that saved him vividly. He’d remember. And he’d thank them if they ever came back.

——

She was in charge of training assassins, these days. A year and a half later after Bludhaven, she was back in Nanda Parbat, and she’s devoured every magical tome she could get her hands on. They all say the same things.

Her assassins were trained well, and Ra’s praises her with more responsibilities as he followed the pit in his obsessions. Her mother began to splinter the group, not knowing that as Ra’s began his descent into madness, people looked towards her instead of Talia for leadership. They did not know that her unwavering presence by Ra’s side wasn’t voluntary but it is their true that she became his right hand out of pure skill. And flawless obedience, of course.

Then, someone new joins.

Someone with pit rage and empty eyes that goes rigid when she approaches.

Then again, most of the operatives freeze up when she walks towards them.

Her memories roar. A child.

He bowed, and her eyes followed the streak of white hair at the forefront of his skull.

She gestured at him to follow, and ignored the pitiful eyes the rest of the assassins gave to the kid- they act like her training was hard when she went easy on them (it was)- and led the kid towards the training rooms.

She knew who he was, even if her grandfather and mother didn’t think she knew.

Her… Bruce Wayne would probably appreciate his son being returned relatively sane.

But first, she had to beat the Pit out of him. Then, she could assign body guarding duties to him, in an attempt to protect him.

——

“Grandfather, I will take Damian’s punishment.”

“A whipping girl, granddaughter?” But he nodded anyways. He made Damian watch.

She kneeled and allowed the punishment. She couldn’t always protect him from Ra’s, but this she could do anytime. It’s not like she was unfamiliar with the torture. (The whip had barbs. Rusty. And they sprinkled salt.)

——

“I liked poetry….” Jason Todd tells her after a training session. “I think.”

“Sure. I’ll call you Grave, then.” Pain. But she was used to it.

He tilted his head, eyes going blank once more. She sighed. There went his memories again. (His eyes were blank and glazed. Like looking at someone you love and knowing they’re looking through you.)

——

“I would not trust her,” she says to the air, next to a Red Hood emerging from Talia al Ghul’s chambers. She could see it, the beginnings of Gotham’s new crime lord. But still, “Talia al Ghul is known for her lies.”

She pushed away from the wall. It was up to Grave if he listened. It was out of her hands now.

——

She’s twenty-five, and she’s helping Damian pack for his first meeting with Bruce Wayne.

“You must not tell him about me.” Because he’d come rushing here, and she had worked too hard to save Damian for her fool of a father to come and ruin all of that effort.

“I promise.” Her little brother said solemnly. Ukhti said it out loud, which meant it was important and she expected him to keep that promise.

The only other time he’d heard her speak was to tell him she loved him.

The reincarnation smiled and told him through their special sign language, to treat the current Robin with respect and to try his best to get the current Robin to pass down his title.

‘Robin is earned. They have different rules, over there. Try your best to learn those rules.’

Her brother was sheltered. She loved him, but he was spoilt and sheltered. Of course she was worried. Talia barely mothered him.

“I know. You do not have to remind me so often, ukhti.”

She smiled, and patted his head.

“Be safe,” she whispered. “I will miss you.”

Damian darted in for a hug. “Of course. Goodbye, sister. See you soon.”

She hoped not. It was hard enough to convince Ra’s that Damian would learn more under Bruce Wayne.

(She was locked in a small closet- like Cass- for about a week, because she brought up the idea first.)

——

She found it.

The answer to pit rage laid in an old, all but crumbling tome from Atlantis- answers “from a ghost.”

——

Bruce Wayne died. Months after Damian came to live with him. That- irritating- she sighed and worked with her mother to turn Ra’s al Ghul’s attention away from Gotham, lest he called Damian back in Bruce Wayne’s absence.

The little photographer caught grandfather’s attention. She stood vigil as he played chess with Ra’s. His interest in Damian wavered. Anticipation blurred in her veins.

She saved his friends. Her assassins. She let them go, telling them to wait for the little photographer’s plan. (Y’all miss girl had fucking bloody handprints on her pants like someone tried to grab it.)

The first few people who had an inking she might not be loyal to Ra’s… and it was them.

When her other assassins attacked Red Robin, she cut them down before they could touch him, helping him with a furious League of Spiders or whatever operative. She hated spiders.

“What…?”

“You’re a lot of trouble, little photographer.” She sighed. His jaw dropped.

“It’s you!”

“Go,” she cut him off. “Blow this place up. I left a surprise for you outside.”

——

“Owens?! Z?!” Tim trembled, exhaustion and shock and wonder hitting him at once.

“Heya, boss!” Z chirped. Owens helped Tim up while Z helped Tam. Pry walked around them, looking out for further threats. “The nightmare trainer let us go. She knew you, I think.”

Tim smiles, all shark teeth and zero hero. (In the background, the song zero to hero from Hercules 2, played in reverse.) “Tell me more.”

——

Damian grunted, bracing himself for the magical creature’s attack.

“Robin!” His father barked out, panicked. Damian hoped he’d survive-

Shhhlk!

He looked up and there stood his ukht. She bounded forwards, using the odd fauna of the magical plane to bolster her movements as she sliced the creatures apart with her swords, magic humming brightly as she cut through them… and the magicians attacking them.

“What- what are you doing here?” He asked. She greeted him, three fingers curled over her shoulder.

‘My question is,’ she signed. ‘Why were you here without a magical weapon.’

Damian sighed as father stepped in between them.

“Who are you.”

“Batman. Cease your excessive worry. I trust her with my life,” Damian snapped. He stepped around a shocked Batman, looked him in the eyes, and unsheathed his katana. He handed it over to his ukht, who took it with amusement.

‘See?’ His eyes seemed to say. Father tensed when his sister unsheathed her own blade and handed it to him.

‘Are you here for a specific reason?’ His sister signed to him.

“Uh, you gonna introduce us, little man?”

Damian sent the Flash a derisive look and ignored him.

“We’re looking for a magician. He set a squadron of demons loose into D.C. last night. He has a tower.” Damian added.

“Robin,” Father growled. “Who is this.” Damian shot him a look and turned back to his sister.

The reincarnation tilted her head. ‘Tower… it’ll have to be that way.’

“Could you take us there?” Damian asked. Truthfully, he could find the way himself. But he wanted more time around his ukht. She nodded and Damian straightened.

“I feel like we should be concerned that Robin’s friend just murdered a bunch of people.”

His sister glanced back and ignored them.

“Silence, incompetents. Speak another word against her, and Batman’s no killing rule will be applied creatively.” He hissed. (The fucking surroundings hissed with him y’all what the fuck)

He turned when his sister ruffled his hair (Superman muttered a super shocked “what the fuck.”) and Damian allowed it. He had missed his sister.

——

290 notes · View notes

bucknastysbabe · 1 year

Text

Oh Bucky you’re so fine <3

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Avenger!afab!reader, daddy kink, smooth talkin big lover boy era Bucky, banging in concerning places, confessions of feelings, pnv!sex, v!fingering, Big Dick Bucky Barnes, alcohol consumption, Thor’s Super Mead, the reader is IN THE TRENCHES down bad

A/N: Oh here we go again random Bucky smut aggressive as hell

Bucky was too hot for his own good. The idiot didn’t even realize he was sex on legs, hiding his beautiful body away under long sleeves and jeans at all times. You could appreciate the skinny jeans at least, often ogling his thick thighs around the tower.

You were down bad. Clint and Natasha thought it was hilarious how you watched him like a lovesick puppy. The archer would elbow you, teasing, “Careful someone might trip over your tongue hanging out.” They weren’t wrong.

Bucky was so oblivious though. He would play back with your flirting, shooting a million dollar smile and batting your shoulder but that was the extent. He had this five foot thick concrete wall around anything past flirty banter. You needed more, honest to god needed it. Your clit was raw from the amount of times you’d rubbed yourself to completion over the super soldier.

Currently your eyes were fixated on his thighs spread around a barstool. Barnes had been convinced by you to come out for once. Minus a couple of familiar faces, most of the Avengers were in this packed club. Thor was making Bucky take the rest of his Asgardian alcohol. Your lips quirked up— the shit had gotten Steve drunk as a skunk one time. He had the original serum too.

Maybe a little liquid courage would break down the brunettes barrier. You gulped down the rest of your own lemondrop and straightened your skirt. It was leather and way too short, but a girl has to get dick somewhere. Even though the puny men didn’t add up to Bucky in your mind. You knew he could put it down, there was no way the man didn’t have a huge dick. Two enhanced individuals in bed, the thought made your pussy throb.

Bucky’s delicate nose scrunched up as he chugged down the rest of the mead. Thor laughed maniacally, slapping the former assassin’s broad back. Bucky coughed, “Jesus Christ! The hell you make that with?”

Thor smiled enigmatically, “Tis’ a secret, soldier of winter!”

Clint’s annoying whine disrupted your watching.

“C’monnnn you can’t watch him all night! Take a shot and get after Barnes, sheesh!”

Bucky’s blue eyes flickered over to you and the bowman, a quizzical look on his flushed face. You turned to Clint, narrowing your eyes and hissing, “Shut the fuck up!” Barnes’ eyes made a scan over your body before he turned back to the blonde god. Clint guffawed and led you over to the opposite side of the bar, ordering vodka.

You whispered, “Does my hair look okay? I don’t look like too slutty right?”

Clint eyed you amusedly, deadpanning, “If you two don’t stop eye-fucking and do something about it I will. You look fine.”

You rolled your eyes, catching the shot slid over by Clint and downing it. You breathed out harshly at the burn, working yourself up to approach Bucky. Nodding at Clint, you walked over to him. As a former agent of SHIELD, you could do the deed. But the nerves were still there.

Bucky smiled down at you, cheeks pleasantly warm and his eyes slightly glossed. He must be tipsy. The brunette rumbled, “Whatcha’ been doing? Besides getting dragged around by asshole?” You blurted out, “Watching you.”

Oh Christ on a stick. Why did you do that?

Bucky’s wide smile fell a bit, his pupils darkening at your wide eyes. He raised a thick brow and intoned, “Is that right?” You stammered and blushed, looking down in embarrassment. “I-I oh god, y-yeah I’ve been staring you down.” A gloved hand tilted your chin up, Bucky gazing intensely. You fought to hide a whimper at the gentle touch.

He purred, “Been watching ya’ too, just begging to be looked at with those legs and that ass.” His other palm came down on your ass with a rough squeeze, pulling you into his broad chest. Bucky continued, “Been thinkin’ about sliding this skimpy shit up and seeing what little scrap you had on underneath.” His warm breath fanned over your gaping lips.

You were utterly struck, two seconds from getting down and worshipping Bucky’s cock under the bar. Whining softly you pressed your tits against him and pled, “Please! Want you to, got all dressed up for you Buck.” He smirked in that lopsided way of his and pressed full lips to yours. Faintly from afar it sounded as if Sam and Clint were cheering.

“Ya’ need it that bad huh? I oughta wine and dine my favorite baby avenger first,” he pecked your wet lips again, “But I don’t think I can wait, sweetheart.”

Your knees went weak at his pet name, the super soldier holding you upright with his grip on your cheek. Bucky chuckled softly, sharing more kisses with you. You lapped at his tongue, whimpering like the neediest slut. Smaller hands clenched into the leather of Bucky’s jacket, holding on for dear life. You couldn’t believe this was real life.

Was is that easy all along?

You blanched at realizing you spoke your thoughts aloud.

“Baby, I’ve been wanting you since your cute self walked into the compound,” Bucky admitted with a shy glance.

You suckled on his bottom lip and pulled back, frantically begging, “Bucky- shit! I need you to fuck me right now or I’m going to die!” He laughed again, eyes growing even darker with lust. He leaned down to nip your earlobe, purring in that old Brooklyn accent, “C’mon then sugar.” On shaky legs you gripped his hand and half-ran to the women’s bathroom. As horny as you were, the men’s was out of the equation.

Bucky slammed and locked the door behind you two. When he turned to you, you felt like a little bunny about to get eaten alive. No wonder people thought he was so scary. That glare was something else, thick brows furrowing, eyes penetrating your soul.

The former assassin grabbed you under the ass, slamming you on the counter, hungry lips sucking down your neck. Bucky hummed between marks, “Fuck you’re so hot, perfect angel.” You hiked up your skirt frantically, spreading your thighs to wrap around Buck. “No you,” you gushed. He moaned against your skin, peeling off his gloves in the process.

You ripped off your tight top, tits falling out under the fluorescent light. Bucky inhaled sharply, flesh fingers crawling under your thong. He snapped it against your hip, earning a pretty cry. The brunette rumbled, “You plan on wearing nothing hm baby?” You nodded and sloppily took Bucky’s mouth again, tongues intertwining. His cooler metallic hand pinched and twisted at one of your nipples, you whining and squirming in place.

With a tear, Bucky ripped off your slinky thong, stuffing the wet underwear in his pocket. Fucking menace. You complained, “Touch me p-please, m’so wet for you.” He smirked again, palming your sensitive breasts teasingly. Bucky murmured, “Yeah? I can smell it pretty girl, all soaked for me. Fuck!”

Your back arched painfully when fingers swiped through your copious slick. He drove two thick digits into your pussy, eliciting a loud squelch. He curled up into your g-spot, biting on his lip, eyes glossed over. You shook and chanted his name, fucking onto Buck’s perfect fingers. He groaned, “Yeah, that’s it, needy baby.”

“Fuck me, fuck me, c’mon Buck, please!”

Your frantic hands unbuckled him, almost crying from sheer need. Bucky shushed your carrying on, kisses driving you silly. You took his cock out and begged again, “Shit- Bucky, wan’ you to fuck me from behind, treat me rough da- Buck.” His blues almost rolled back from your near slip. You shoved your face into his thick neck to escape the embarrassment, leaking all over him.

Bucky growled, “Yeah? Need me to fuck you? Take you like a slut, Daddy’s girl want that?”

You cried out like a woman possessed, “Please! Please please please!” It was the only word you could utter at the moment. Bucky flipped you over, shoving you face down on the shitty countertop. The bulb above you blinked but shone on, bathing you two in a strange bluish light.

You gazed at yourself in the mirror, breath hitching at your debauched state. Smudged eyeliner, ruined lips, hair sticking up, and the dark bruises littering your neck. Bucky murmured nonsense into your cheek, rutting his thick cock against your slickened pussy. He was disheveled himself, muttering, “Fuck babydoll, gonna make me blow too fast.”

“C’mon daddy,” you whined.

Bucky’s gasped when he shoved his length into your cunt, both hands flying to your hips. You gripped onto the counter, eyes rolling up, moaning about ‘daddy’. He thrust into you in forceful movements, hips clapping into your ass. Someone knocked on the door, Bucky hollering, “Fuck off!”

You whimpered and shook under his assault, big cock splitting you wide open. Bucky panted, “S’good, babygirl is squeezin’ daddy s’good.” His big hands engulfed your waist, snapping your smaller frame onto his cock. You wailed, “Love your cock daddy, needed you s’bad!” He grinned and nuzzled into your sweaty nape, cock still pounding against your sweet spot and cervix.

“Yeah? You think my old crazy ass is hot?”

You babbled deliriously, breath hitching, “Uh! Huh! You’re so- god! Fucking hot! Not- ohmygodbuck! crazy.” Bucky kissed your shoulder, grunting, “But I’m still old.” You shook your head and continued, “Fuck daddy! Like you being older, s’good!” Your legs were shaking from his rough thrusts, pussy abnormally soaked.

Your eyes met his own in the mirror, you whining pathetic and desperate for the older man. Bucky wrapped a big hand around your neck and pulled you flush to his firm body. Still snapping his hips in debilitating jerks he rasped, “Such a dirty girl.” You agreed with him, succumbing to the mind boggling pleasure.

“You gonna cum on my cock babydoll?,” he cooed.

“Yes! Yes! Oh god yes!”

You cried and slammed your hands down on the counter, gushing on Bucky’s cock. He slurred out low curses, lashes fluttering. Meanwhile you spasmed and twitched around him, vision going dark for a second. You sobbed out Bucky and Daddy interchangeably, tears sliding down your cheeks. His cock was coaxing another out of you quickly.

Bucky begged, “One more, one more, c’mon sweetheart.”

His warmed metal fingers pinched and played with your clit, sending you up into another climax. You cried and seized up harder this time, hoarse guttural groans wracking your frame. Bucky’s hips jolted deep into your pussy, tip firmly nudging the bump. Your name left his swollen lips in a adorable whimper, nose scrunching up and mouth hanging wide open.

He gritted, “Can I come inside?”

You begged him to, feeling like you’d die if he didn’t.

Bucky’s baby blues rolled up.

You sucked in harsh breaths at Bucky’s hot cum painting your insides. He grunted and moaned softly through his climax, praising you so very sweet. He slipped out and turned your head to capture your bitten lips again. Both of you sensually kissed in slow, heady movements. He murmured, “S’pretty sweetheart. Think you wanna come snuggle with me after a shower or somethin’?”

You nodded dumbly, hand bracing itself on one of Bucky’s killer thighs. Lapping into his mouth another time you cradled a stubbled cheek. Satiation seeped out of your pores, picking up on Bucky’s saccharine emotions. “Yeah. I’d like that a lot. Can we get a shower first?”

He chuckled, “Careful whatcha’ wish for, babygirl.”

Oh you were downright ruined you were so down bad now. But now you could say Buck might feel the same, practically purring and rubbing against your sore body like a big cat. He murmured, “Pretty baby, good baby, what am I gonna do with you?”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #top bucky barnes #au everyone lives happily ever after #avenger reader

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nenchainzz · 6 months

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𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐: 𝐀𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦 + 𝐀𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐜𝐬

Alhaitham x Fem!Reader

Warnings: aphrodisiacs, dub con, dom!alhaitham, begging, pet names (good girl), vaginal fingering, finger sucking, vaginal sex, p in v sex, and creampie

Word Count: 1.7k

a/n: does the smut start immediately? yes. does it make sense? not really. do i regret it? nope. also yes, this one is also late im sowwy

“Just wanted to let you know that while I’m out, Alhaitham has been working on some kind of experiment in the living room, so just be aware,” your roommate Kaveh pokes his head through your door to say.

“Oh? He is?” you turn from your desk to look at the blonde-haired man.

“Yeah, I’m not quite sure what it’s about, but it looks complicated and does not look like something he would normally look into,” Kaveh complains.

“Great…” you reply sarcastically.

“So yeah, just wanted to give you that heads up,” Kaveh says again.

“Thanks for letting me know,” you say.

“Sure thing. I’ll see you later,” he says, closing your door.

“See ya,” you wave as the door shuts. You do begin to wonder what Alhaitham’s work could possibly be, but you have an exam to study for, so your distractive thoughts soon leave you.

After rigorous studying for an hour, your hunger calls you to get something to eat. You have been at this for a long time, so a break would be nice. When you open your door, you see Alhaitham standing at the table in the living room, staring at a chemistry set. Certainly odd. Alhaitham’s focus was never on something like this. You don’t want to disturb him, so you walk into the kitchen and cook yourself something. You cook a nice meal, and you hear weird puff noises from the living room as you eat. The sound of air being released, at least that’s what it sounded like to you. The noises are a bit distracting, so you venture into the living room to see what Alhaitham is doing.

Alhaitham is just as you left him when you enter, standing over the chemistry set and testing something out. His handsome green eyes are fixated on the gas vapor inside a vial with a pink hue. His expression is one of thoughtfulness and intrigue. Really, really strange.

“Haitham?” you say gently.

“Hmm?” his voice is deep, indicating he hasn’t spoken for some time. He doesn’t look at you, either.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“I’m looking into a gas formation a colleague of mine told me about,” he explains. “She told me that this formation has a peculiar side effect when inhaled.”

“Side effect?” you inquire. “What kind of side effect?”

“I’m not sure,” he says. “She didn’t say.”

“Oh,” you mutter.

“I was going to have Kaveh see what the side effect was, but he left some time ago,” Alhaitham says nonchalantly.

“See…what…” your brain turns his words. “Wait, were you going to have Kaveh be your guinea pig?”

“That would have been helpful, but like I said, he left,” Alhaitham huffs in annoyance and adds something to the vial. You’re a bit taken aback, but then you remember the dynamic between your roommates, and you’re shock fades. He finally looks over at you. “How about you?”

“Huh?” you utter.

“You test out the gas,” he says simply.

“What? No way, what if it’s dangerous?” you ask.

“My colleague said that it’s not dangerous. She said the gas alters your mood and state of mind,” Alhaitham explains.

“So, she did say something about the side effects,” you reply.

“Yes, but it’s irrelevant information since it’s practically useless,” Alhaitham says.

“Well, if I’m gonna test it, then you have to as well,” you tell him.

“Oh? Do I now?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s only fair,” you declare. He chuckles.

“Alright,” he agrees.

“Wait, really?” you’re surprised he agreed so quickly.

“Yeah, I think it’ll enhance the report I give if I also test it,” he explains. So, he takes the vial and goes over to you. He releases the gas vapor into the air, and nothing seems to happen at first. However, gradually, you begin to feel warm and quiver a bit, especially under Alhaitham’s lengthy gaze. His green eyes bore into you, and his tall frame over you. It’s overwhelming and so sexy. “I think the vapor has an effect.”

“Uh, yeah,” you agree. Your voice is soft and nervous. His eyes narrow at you, wondering why you’re suddenly shy. After a minute, he understands.

“Do I make you all shy, Y/N?” he asks cheekily. You aren’t sure how to respond and avoid his gaze, already confirming his suspicion. “It seems this gas affects you more than me.”

“That’s not…” your gaze is still fixated anywhere but on the man before you.

“How cute,” he says, taking your chin with his fingers. “How about we give in to the gas’ effects? For research purposes.”

“Well, if it’s for research purposes, I suppose we could,” you agree.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and you can’t help how hot that sounds coming from him.

Alhaitham kisses you with his hands resting on your hips and your arms wrap around his broad shoulders. His rough lips glide against yours, with his tongue touching your bottom lip. Your mouth opens eagerly for him, wanting to get and taste more of him. He kisses you effortlessly, wanting the same from you. He breaks away from you and begins kissing your neck. In between his neck kisses, he requests something of you.

“Jump up and wrap your legs around me,” he says. You do as he asks, and he helps you lie on the table beside the set he was working on. When you’ve settled, you briefly unwrap your limbs from him to undress yourselves. You watch him tear off his shirt, getting to admire his physique. He watches you take off your shirt and eyes you like a predator.

“You’re so sexy, Y/N,” he compliments. He comes up to kiss you again, and you can feel him grind his hips into yours. Alhaitham’s hands come up to your shorts, and he removes them. In just your panties, you grind against Alhaitham’s hand, wanting more. “You’re certainly needy,” he says.

“Shut up,” you say. “This is your fault.”

“Fair,” he agrees. “Then let me help you.” He begins rubbing your pussy over your panties. His longest two fingers rub the slit up and down and stop at the clit to give it some attention. You whimper at his teasing, knowing he’s just toying with you. “You want to cum?”

“Fuck, yes,” you glare at him.

“Then you better beg,” he tells you. You look away from him again, not wanting to give in. He takes your chin, much like before, to get you to look at him. “Beg.” You spread your legs a bit more.

“Please let me cum, Haitham,” you beg. “Please, I want to so badly.”

“That’s better,” he says. He removes your panties and thrusts a finger inside you, and uses his thumb to rub your clit. His actions are quick; his fingers move at a swift pace. He wants you to cum as quickly as possible.

You cry out as you feel yourself drawing near to your orgasm. Your nails dig into the table as you feel your thighs burn, and your pussy begins to squeeze around Alhaitham’s finger.

“Look at you. So quick to cum, huh?” Your mind swims, and can’t think of anything other than the feeling of Alhaitham’s fingers. He doesn’t stop, and you ride out your orgasm on his fingers. Your cum stains his fingers, and he inspects it. “Lick them clean.” He puts his fingers to your lips, and you take them into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them. Eventually, Alhaitham removes his fingers from your mouth with a small smile plastered on his face.

“I think you get a kick out of ordering me around,” you say.

“Something like that,” Alhaitham tells you.

Alhaitham strips off his pants and lines his cock at your entrance.

“Better be quick,” Alhaitham tells you. “Don’t want Kaveh to come home and see, don’t we?” You nod your head both to agree and just to hurry up already. Alhaitham pushes himself in, and you whine at the feeling of his cock inside you. The stretch of your pussy causes Alhaitham to groan above you.

Alhaitham gives you a bit to adjust to his size before he starts to move. Your arms are draped across Alhaitham’s back with his hands beside your head to stabilize himself. He begins to fuck you at an even pace, with your hot moans fanning each other for every thrust. You both curse as Alhaitham’s cock splits you open and moves against your most sensitive spot.

“Fuck,” he curses. “You feel so good.” Your moans and hitched breaths are the responses he gets from you, making him happier. He increases his speed a bit, and your nails begin to dig into his shoulder and scratch at his skin. He winces from it but continues to rail into you. The table slams against the ground with every one of Alhaitham’s thrusts, and the crash is loud throughout the house. His mouth once again finds your neck and begins leaving marks on it. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping his cock close inside you. With every snap of his hips, Alhaitham’s orgasm draws closer. Your cries reach a higher pitch when you feel Alhaitham’s cock begin to twitch within you. He doesn’t cease, and he cums within you. However, even with his cum inside, he doesn’t stop fucking you.

“Hai-Haitham,” you moan as his hot cum is continuously shoved inside of you.

“Just a bit more,” he whispers against you. “You can take it.”

“I-I can’t,” you stutter out. He leaves open-mouthed kisses along your upper chest.

“Yes, you can,” he says. “You’ve been so good, just a bit more.”

“Hey!” you both hear a person from outside the house shout, and you both immediately stop your actions. Your eyes grow wide, and your face becomes heated from embarrassment. Alhaitham raises himself and looks in the direction of the door.

“Who the hell…?” Alhaitham’s annoyance is coming out in full swing.

“I forgot my keys! Is there anyone there to let me in?” Kaveh shouts. You both sigh somewhat in relief and annoyance.

“One minute, Kaveh,” Alhaitham says calmly. “We’ll continue with this later. I wasn’t finished with you,” he says quietly for only your ears. And you know he intends to keep that promise.

༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈⛧┈┈┈┈┈┈♛ ♛┈┈┈┈┈┈⛧┈┈┈┈┈┈•༶

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭

#𝐋𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 month

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📚inch resting bits from the march twst manga updates📚 (octa, savana, & 4koma!)

***Manga spoilers below the cut (with an emphasis on the Episode of Octavinelle, since that's my favorite dorm!)***

The 4koma manga has dropped! Again, it centers around the daily lives of the NRC boys and is shown in a 4 panel gag comic format.

In the illustration above, we see the main cast with Grim's beloved tuna cans~

This month has comics about Ace going to a supplementary lesson (to learn how to manipulate brooms to do his chores) and Leona attending his art class. The comic depicts Leona, Idia, and Rook in the same art class though we're not sure if this is true in-game yet. However, the comics do carry over the continuity of Ace and Deuce being in Trein's class so maybe the art class thing is also true of Leona?

From the Episode of Savanaclaw manga: I KNOW WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE IN AWE OF DIASOMANI'S PRESENCE BUT ALL I'M THINKING IS THAT DIASOMNIA HAS A MOB STUDENT WITH A BOWL CUT 😭

I'm also really fixated on how this mangaka draws her lashes and hair, they're always bangers every time 💗

Ruggie "bleh" face... Also???? That full page of him using his UM... and the visualization of the wildebeests racing with him like the people in the crowd, very Lion King.

I like that the manga really shows us more emotional and intense moments the game cannot depict due to its limited assets. Here, we see the aftermath of Ruggie using his UM on the crowd. Even with Azul's magic-enhancement potion, Ruggie has taken a great physical toll from spellcasting. Falling to his knees, panting... This will make it hurt more when Leona almost poofs him to sand later 😭

These panels remind me of like. Scar looking on from up high while the hyenas do his bidding. Ruggie's expression... it's so full of a desperate kind of hope has he gazes up at his "king".

From the Episode of Octavinelle, we get to see Leona post-OB and recovering in the infirmary. Side note, I really love how the mangaka adds these cute little faces to let us know who is speaking in certain text bubbles. The little faces make some of the cutest expressions; just look at that cheeky chibi Leona head!

Here, Ruggie is telling everyone about rumors that Azul and the twins purposefully prevent their clients from fulfilling their end of the contract so they can reap the benefits. I like how the scene shown is a boat tipping over (with the twins implied to have flipped it). Nice callback to the boat scene in The Little Mermaid!

We have another The Little Mermaid reference here, where Floyd shares his UM with the gang?? The hypothetical man here reminds me of Prince Eric, especially in that white shirt and appearing as though he is drowning.

Guys... Azul's been taking modeling lessons from Vil-- I really like these more quiet and contemplative moments of Azul; plenty of those are featured this month.

asdbhlfdbaifyoaiygoeia I WILL NOW ALWAYS ASSOCIATE AZUL THINKING HARD WITH SITTING IN THAT CHAIR... There's so many shots of him seated here...

Yuuta continues to be my favorite manga!Yuu so far by diligently tidying up Leona's messy ass room for him... asfvkyadvfialf Grim looks so goofy helping out, that tower of clothes is half his size...

FLOYD'S FACE IS SO siLLy HERE TOO (this is the scene when Ruggie recalls seeing his eel form during a P.E. class where they swam). The mangaka really decided to summon his gremlin energy here...

Aaaaah, I love this shot; it sort of parallels Azul and Leona... It also makes me realize the difference between how Leona's hair is in Octavinelle vs Savanaclaw (due to the different mangaka). In Octavinelle, his hair is usually a solid black with white highlights but in Savanaclaw there tends to be a subtle gradient/screen tone on Leona's hair.

Anyway, twins Twins TWINS

GOOD WAY TO CLOSE OUT THE OCTA CHAPTER, EXCELLENT WAY TO CLOSE OFF THE OCTA CHAPTER IN FACT 🫶 Can you tell I love the Tweel parts/j

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starfishoverdrive · 7 months

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🖤 Enmu [NSFW] Headcanons 🖤

🌟 except these are my new ones!! i feel like this is better and specific lol, and fem ♀️ reader btw!!

I have a very interesting way of how I think of Enmu, I feel like I should share it with you all ..⭐️

now that i have your attention look at his freaky ass hand??.. that i end up mentioning in the hea—

🖤 He is bisexual, enjoys being more dominant with women and submissive with men

🖤 This isn't even a head canon it's just canon but he has a fat ass that fits his equally thick thighs 😻 Loves when you grab them both and generally likes attention towards them. He enjoys squeezing you between his thighs, too. Never went wrong with a little breath play. I think...

🖤 His dick is thick and big, like 6-8 inches :3 it's not too big to where you struggle to fit it in your mouth, but it makes it feel really full, and it easily hits your cervix. He loves to pound you deep so he can feel himself slam into that barrier, and his favorite position to do that is mating press.

🖤 When hes not snapping trains he loves taking erotic pictures of you, himself, or together. Gets off to the ones of you a lot. He likes showing his ass the most in solo pictures.

🖤 Biting and scent kink. Loves the smell of your pussy and arousal, and he loves "claiming" and marking you with his bites. You love the sweet mix of pain and pleasure they bring so there's rarely a moment where he's not biting you. And for your scent—it makes him salivate, and the fact his sense of smell is enhanced makes hiding how he makes you feel impossible.

🖤 Nearly nothing brings him as much joy as sticking his face between your legs, inhaling your sweet scent, and indulging in the addicting taste of your pussy. It's sort of a blessing and a curse that demons don't get tired because he'll be there for as long as he can. Oral fixation. He enjoys trying to fit as much as he can in his mouth and sucking like it's a little treat for him. But he also loves receiving, and his favorite thing to do is 69. He's very fun to suck.

🖤 Likes feminine clothing. Would wear your panties, cum in them, and have you wear them. :3

🖤 Praise kink. He loves saying "good girl" and he also loves being called a good boy.

🖤 LOVES public sex like... He has to. Whether it's you sitting on his dick under your skirt or him straight up pounding you in front of everyone, he loves it. Enjoys train sex a ton.

🖤 Likes having his hair pulled. Especially the blue parts. You can use them to pull him further into you.

🖤 Breeding kink... He likes breeding demon slayers in particular.

🖤 He's very keen on using his detachable hand whenever your pussy's unoccupied. So if you're sucking his cock, between his soft pillowy thighs, or really anything, he'd want to be fingering you to give you an even better experience.

🖤 He can sharpen his claws at will so it's only natural he uses them to shred apart your clothing. It's smart to bring extra clothes or else you're going to look like you just got attacked. ...Apart from the cum rolling down your legs.

🖤 He may enjoy being dominant, but being submissive to you turns him on. To have someone much weaker than him use him to get off... He loves it. He'll worship you, let you use all the toys you please on him, and reduce him to nothing but a lowly demon fuck toy. It's arousing to him. But when he's not in the mood for being completely submissive, he can simply be bratty. And he loves teasing. When he's submissive, he enjoys the amazon position (its interesting...)

🖤 He's so perfect for tentacle sex... OF COURSE he does it. Will fuck you with them, hold you down with them, and fuck himself with them while he's fucking you. Fuses with trains for this one purpose most of the time.

🖤 Gives you sexy dreams so your pussy is ready for him when you're asleep. :3 You enjoy waking up to a hot and sticky surprise in the morning.

🖤 Extremely vocal!! Whimpers, cries, fucking growls, and sometimes he even makes girlish moans. He mainly starts gasping when it's barely been a minute, then he starts panting and it all goes downhill for your neighbors from there.

🖤 Adores it when you kiss him or get really handsy. Sometimes he just wants you to touch him and hold him close while you're doing it, and that's all he needs. If you tell him you love him he'll get flustered and speechless, but just know he says it back in his head. He's just too busy pounding you. ❤️

🖤 As a human he pretended to be a doctor so I think the idea of him using that to fuck patients is amazing. Like they'll tell him they have a sore throat and he explains that it's a common illness and he has just the remedy, then he starts pulling his pants down

🖤 Has no pubes. Doesn't care if you have them. At all.

🖤 He enjoys the parts of your body that has fat on it. Whether it's your tummy, thighs, anywhere, he'd leave loving bite marks there and squeeze often. But bonus points if it's your thighs, he'd be constantly grabbing them and I can only imagine how loud it is to slam down on his thighs when you're riding him.

🖤 Stuck it in you and said "Choo choo" once. You cried hysterically

...aaand that's all I can think of right now! In general I think he's just a big horny tease who would love a human to play with. Very cute and thick demon boyfriend who holds you tight and makes sure your pussy is nice and full. 🌟

#enmu twerk compilation #enmu #demon slayer smut #kny smut #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #enmu x reader #enmu smut #enmu x y/n #demon slayer #demon slayer headcanons #enmu headcanons

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ccarrot · 5 months

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what are your hcs/theories about chuuya's past? feel free to go wild with your thoughts 😽

I have a few. .. A lot actually but i felt like making some art so here's what i have the stamina for right now.

Mom Nakahara

So i've been thinking about her a lot considering she's the parent he would have spent the most time with. We know basically one line about her but we can learn that she and her husband have a lot of political sway in town, she's of samurai descent, and has a lot of decorum "like those of the upper class". That didn't really translate into the design I made for her bc for some reason i was very fixated on her being a farmer lady but I imagine she has a very polite and respectful personality. I think her past involving some form of samurai heritage could indicate she's a socialite of some kind and rather wealthy and well known in the village, which could attract a lot of disrespect when the Dad is at war and she's raising Chuuya on her own.

Apart from the mostly baseless farmer vibes i DID want her to seem very soft, and very tired. She's effectively a single mother, her husband's at war, her child is "unruly" and gets into fights and she's might be getting shit from the people she knows around her. It's stressful.

2. Gender

So here this might be diverging from canon, but this is very very important to me. i headcanon Chuuya as FtM transgender, like this is just super ingrained in my mind. Projection mostly. (Also why whenever I draw genderbender art of him, Girl Chuuya's body isn't particularly feminine, maybe she hasn't gotten her tits yet. I want the trans/nb reading to be very available.)

So anyways when i was thinking about his past, i was wondering if he even started considering gender that way. Maybe, maybe not. I think he might have gone for a more "tomboy" type attitude when he was a kid, begging his mom to let him wear "non-girly clothes" instead. Maybe she lets him to that because wearing shorts instead of a skirt isn't something that really matters in her eyes, cutting her kid's hair short isn't a big deal. So i think mom would be accepting of the idea that her son's trans, but maybe other townspeople aren't. And they spread rumors about Chuuya's mother "for raising him wrong."

Cue some kindergarten Chuuya out to bat for his mom's honor.

3. Professor N.

This is a really obvious one to me, but I believe that Chuuya knew N before the lab. Two versions I bounce between: N being a friend of his father's during the war. If N really does stand for "Nakahara" maybe N is his uncle on his mom's side. Either way I think some kind of accident or risk was involved with Chuuya's ability manifestation, and contact N who they know is involved with some secret ability research and they trust him enough to send Chuuya to the lab with him to "get him fixed"

If chuuya's original ability was the self contradicting power enhancement ability, maybe an accident involving him over powering something and it like. exploding or something. Or maybe he used it on himself and some kind of singularity opened up (black holes maybe??) Either way something really dramatic bc Chuuya's ability is dramatic.

Anyways. theres something very insidious to me about N knowing Chuuya as a kid. As soon as he was given the chance to, he not only faked his death, experimented on him, but systematically abused him in order to make him lose his sense of self/sense of humanity. essentially forcing him into an object/weapon. Not a person anymore. It's sick, N is honestly one of (if not THE) most genuinely evil characters in all of bsd.

Overall I'm hesitant on the idea of Chuuya's parents being awful but it is possible. I've got several different fluctuating versions of his pre-lab backstory honestly.

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #doodles #ask #chuuya #mom nakahara #professor n #yeah yeah yeah yeah #CHUUYA BACKSTORY may favorite topic to maladaptive daydream about #HAVE SOME ART!!!! mom's design is subject to change but honestly i just want her to look like a soft older anime mom version of chuuya.#and that handshake with N and kid chuuya is probably one of my favorite things i've drawn in a while.

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wingedblooms · 3 months

Text

Blooming dreams

Gardeners, I think, dream bigger dreams than emperors. (Mary Cantwell)

This meta is a continuation of my thoughts over the years, but especially the ones expressed in the following links. Please be aware that there are major hofas spoilers in this post and avoid if needed.

Secret, lovely seer / Forbidden secrets

A rose in the thorns / The flower of life

Seer, wise woman, witch / Three sisters witches / Starborn light

Since my first meta, I have been fixated on Elain’s connection to the Mother, Cauldron, and Fate (let's call her Wyrd) and her potential powers, including sight, shapeshifting, and healing. They are all related when you’re talking about Wyrd, though I am not here to say what I have written is what Sarah has planned. This post is more a love letter to Sarah’s mystical and earthy depiction of Elain and what I would love to see in her story based on all the seeds she’s planted (and if there is an actual magical bean seed involved, I’ll love her all the more for it). Thanks especially to @psychologynerd for previewing this fever dream of a post.

I gazed again at that sad, dark house—the place that had been a prison. Elain had said she missed it, and I wondered what she saw when she looked at the cottage. If she beheld not a prison but a shelter—a shelter from a world that had possessed so little good, but she tried to find it anyway, even if it had seemed foolish and useless to me. She had looked at that cottage with hope; I had looked at it with nothing but hatred. And I knew which one of us had been stronger. (acotar)

From the first book in the series, Feyre recognizes that Elain views things differently. She views things that are sad and dark with hope, and that’s why Sarah has called her the quiet dreamer. It’s a strength that sets her apart. I like to think that’s also what the Cauldron—though warped by the Asteri—saw when she was forced into its womb.

The Cauldron seemed to realize what she’d done, too, as his head thumped onto the mossy ground. That Elain…Elain had defended this thief. Elain, who it had gifted with such powers, found her so lovely it had wanted to give her something…It would not harm Elain, even in its hunt to reclaim what had been taken. (acowar)

@silverlinedeyes and I wondered if it may have recognized Elain as a kindred spirit, some echo of its Mother form. A creator, life-bringer. Were the waters of the Cauldron more like Silba’s Womb—a darkness of creation, sweet and lovely—when Elain was immersed? Or is it possible that when Elain entered its dark womb she viewed it differently than her sister? Did she see a wounded creator to help rather than an enemy to combat?

Elain’s hopeful perspective might be why it gifted her with such powers, powers that we know allow her to see differently than others. And since it may have enhanced her unique perception, I wonder if it also enhanced her ability to bring life and beauty into the world. As a gardener, Elain is well acquainted with the task of envisioning her garden and then getting her hands dirty to make that vision a reality. Dream and reality are entwined in gardening, just like her Sight.

“She loves to garden. Always loved growing things. Even when we were destitute, she managed to tend a little garden in the warmer months. And when–when our fortune returned, she took to tending and planting the most beautiful gardens you’ve ever seen. Even in Prythian. It drove the servants mad, because they were supposed to do the work and ladies were only meant to clip a rose here and there, but Elain would put on a hat and gloves and kneel in the dirt, weeding. She acted like a purebred lady in every regard but that.” (acowar) If Elain was a blooming flower in this army camp, then Nesta…she was a freshly forged sword, waiting to draw blood. [...] Nesta stared them all down. Elain kept her focus on the dry, rocky ground. (acowar) She had no mental shields, no barriers. The gates to her mind…Solid iron, covered in vines of flowers–or it would have been. The blossoms were all sealed, sleeping buds tucked into tangles of leaves and thorns. (acowar) If Elain’s mental gates were those of a sleeping garden, Nesta’s…They belonged to an ancient fortress, sharp and brutal. The sort I imagined they once impaled people upon. (acowar) “What now?” Elain mused, at last answering my question from moments ago as her attention drifted to the windows facing the sunny street. That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this…I think the world needs more gardens.” (acowar)

As we saw in acosf for Nesta—a new type of warrior who forges magical swords and retrieves the Harp from an ancient fortress (the Prison) connected to the Starborn—these descriptions are clearly meant to foreshadow what occurs in the sisters’ stories. While Nesta is a freshly forged sword, Elain is blooming life in Illyria. And what do we learn in hofas?

“The Cauldron,” Nesta said hours later, pointing to yet another carving on the wall. It indeed showed a giant cauldron, perched atop what seemed to be a barren mountain peak with three stars above it. Azriel halted, angling his head. “That’s Ramiel.” At Bryce’s questioning look, he explained, “A mountain sacred to the Illyrians.” Bryce nodded to the carving. “What’s the big deal about a cauldron?” [...] “All life came and comes from it,” Azriel said with something like reverence. “The Mother poured it into this world, and from it, life blossomed.” (hofas)

We receive confirmation that the Cauldron is associated with the sister peaks, as I suspected, and Ramiel in particular as @merymoonbeam has previously suggested.

Before Bryce could contemplate this further, Silene went on, But my mother and father knew they needed the most valuable of all the Daglan’s weapons. Bryce tensed. This had to be the thing that had given them the edge— The snows around Ramiel parted, revealing a massive bowl of iron at the foot of the monolith. Even through the vision, its presence leaked into the world, a heavy, ominous thing. “The Cauldron,” Nesta said, dread lacing her voice. […] “The Cauldron was of our world, our heritage. But upon arriving here, the Daglan captured it and used their powers to warp it. To turn it from what it had been into something deadlier. No longer just a tool of creation, but of destruction. And the horrors it produced…those, too, my parents would turn to their advantage.” [...] “They fought the Daglan and won, she went on. Using the Daglan’s own weapons, they destroyed them. Yet my parents did not think to learn the Daglan’s other secrets—they were too weary, too eager to leave the past behind.” (hofas)

In Forbidden secrets, I theorized that Elain’s powers might allow her to map the secrets of the land in order to heal it and @offtorivendell discussed magical mounds in her theory on reviving dusk. It seems like the Asteri did indeed leave secrets behind, which might explain why certain places continue to be forbidden and barren. But we are given hope that they do not need to remain that way. In hofas, Bryce wakes and wields the land belonging to her Starborn ancestors on the Prison island:

And precisely as Theia had gifted her own power to Silene … perhaps Silene had in turn left that same power here, to be claimed by a future scion. One by one, rapid as shooting stars, the thoughts raced through Bryce. More on instinct than anything else, she dropped to her knees and slammed her hand atop the eight-pointed star. Bryce reached with her mind, through layers of rock and earth—and there it was. Slumbering beneath her. Not firstlight, not as she knew it on Midgard—but raw Fae power from a time before the Drop. The power ascended toward her through the stone, like a glimmering arrow fired into the dark— [...] Like a small sun emerging from the stone itself, a ball of light burst from the floor. A star, twin to the one in Bryce’s chest. Her starlight at last awoke again, as if reaching with shining fingers for that star hovering inches away. With trembling hands, Bryce guided the star to the one gleaming on her chest. Into her body. White light erupted everywhere. Power, uncut and ancient, scorched through her veins. The hair on her head rose. Debris floated upward. She was everywhere and nowhere. She was the evening star and the last rays of color before the dark. Azriel had nearly reached the tunnel. Another flap of his wings and he’d be swallowed by its dark mouth. But at a mere thought from Bryce, stalactites and stalagmites formed, closing in on him. The room became a wolf, its jaws snapping for the winged warrior— The rock had moved for her, as it had for Silene. “Stop him,” she said in a voice that was more like her father’s than anything she’d ever heard come out of her mouth. Azriel swept for the tunnel archway—and slammed into a wall of stone. The exit had sealed. Slowly, he turned, wings rustling. Blood trickled out of his nose from his face-first collision with the rock now in his path. He spread his wings, bracing for a fight. The mountain shook, the chamber with it. Debris fell from the ceiling. Walls began shifting, rock groaning against rock. As if the place this had once been was fighting to emerge from the stone. [...] From far away, she could sense it: the things lurking within the mountain, her mountain. Twisted, wretched creatures. Some had been here since Silene had trapped them. Had been contemplating their escape and revenge all this time. She’d let them out if she restored the mountain to its former glory. And in that moment, the mountain—the island—spoke to her. Alone. It was so alone—it had been waiting all this time. Cold and adrift in this thrashing gray sea. If she could reach out, if she could open her heart to it…it might sing again. Awaken. There was a beating, vibrant heart locked away, far beneath them. If she freed it, the land would rise from its slumber, and such wonders would spring again from its earth— (hofas)

The mountain–Bryce’s mountain–speaks to her, asking her to open her heart to it so it can finally rise from its slumber. Cue internal screaming, my friends, because this language was intentional and it might finally explain Elain’s conversation in this scene:

She looked away—toward the windows. “I can hear your heart,” she said quietly. He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he said nothing, and drained his tea, even as it burned his mouth. “When I sleep,” she murmured, “I can hear your heart beating through the stone.” She angled her head, as if the city view held some answer. “Can you hear mine?” He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.” (acowar)

Elain’s hearing is a source of concern after she is Made because it is unusually heightened; she hears so many things, usually connected to the nature around her as @silverlinedeyes theorized. Like calls to like, and so she might be able to hear the beating heart of the land around her, even as it slumbers. Perhaps that is why her eyes were drawn to the barren ground in Illyria.

Vesperus, an Asteri trapped in a glass coffin below the Prison, tells us more about the connection between the Cauldron and the land:

“I am the Evening Star,” Vesperus seethed. Bryce rolled her eyes. “Fine, we’ll call you the Evening Star, too. Happy?” “Is it not fitting?” A wave of long fingers capped in sharp nails. “I drank from the land’s magic, and the land’s magic drank from me.” [...] Vesperus folded her hands in her lap. “A planet that was once green, as this one is.” “And that wasn’t good enough?” “We grew too populous. Wars broke out between the various beings on our world. Some of us saw the changes in the land beginning—rivers run dry, clouds so thick the sun could not pierce them—and left. Our brightest minds found ways to bend the fabric of worlds. To travel between them. Wayfarers, we called them. World-walkers.” [...] “Once we left our home world, our powers began to dim. Too late, we realized that we had been dependent on our land’s inherent magic. The magic in other worlds was not potent enough. Yet we could not find the way back home. Those of us who ventured here found ways to amplify that power, thanks to the gifts of the land. We pooled our power, and imbued those gifts into the Cauldron so that it would work our will. We Made the Trove from it. And then bound the very essence of the Cauldron to the soul of this world.” Solas. “So destroy the Cauldron…” “And you destroy this world. One cannot exist without the other.”

This should come as no surprise because we saw this play out in acowar, but the Cauldron is tied to the soul of their world. The term soul is intentional, and we will return to it in a bit, but I started to wonder in Forbidden secrets about that connection. The influence of Wyrd is especially clear in the sacred peaks, where the Asteri left behind their secrets. Could Elain unravel the Asteri’s magic from the slumbering heart of the earth, and unbind the Cauldron as a result? Or will she need to go to Cretea to retrieve and purify the magic of the Asteri from the Cauldron like a healer would, in body and in spirit? (Hello, Nephelle celebrations, let’s go.) Nothing feels more right than seeing our strong-willed gardener get her hands dirty as she rips out the Asteri from the root, or beating heart, of their world. Sarah may have even hinted at this role for Elain as she describes getting into her mind for her book:

“There was literally ivy everywhere: in the garden beds, wrapped around the trees, crawling up the sides of the house. So I went into this obsessive, I-need-to-rip-out-every-last-strand-of-ivy-before-I-have-this-baby mode. And I remember the entire time I was ripping out the ivy, and trying to get some semblance of order into the garden beds, I just slipped into Elain’s head. Elain is a gardener, and everything I did during those weeks became research for her book. I’m not even joking. Elain’s now going to have dreams about ripping ivy out and the ivy creeping in through the windows to strangle her at night, because let me tell you, that ivy does not want to go.” (Sarah’s interview in acofas)

English ivy is an aggressive invader and its hosts decline over time before they die. That’s exactly what the Asteri are: aggressive invaders that feed off of their hosts, warping the power of the land for their sole benefit, until it begins to wither away. In hofas, we learn that the Asteri hid their power throughout the land, including at the root of sacred mountains:

Vesperus backed up a half step, hissing at the gleaming weapon. “We hid pockets of our power throughout the lands, in case the vermin should cause … problems. It seems our wisdom did not fail us.”

“There are no such places,” Azriel countered coldly.

“Are there not?” Vesperus grinned broadly, showing all of her too-white teeth. “Have you looked beneath every sacred mountain? At their very roots? The magic draws all sorts of creatures. I can sense them even now, slithering about, gnawing on the magic. My magic. They’re as much vermin as the rest of you.” (hofas)

And we see the moment Bryce discovers that Vesperus has hidden her power in the root of the Prison mountain, which is what sustains her and weakens the land:

Bryce clutched the Starsword tighter. Its power thudded into her palms like a heartbeat. “But why store your power here? It’s an island—not exactly an easy pit stop.” “There are certain places, girl, that are better suited to hold power than others. Places where the veil between worlds is thin, and magic naturally abounds. Our light thrives in such environments, sustained by the regenerative magic of the land.” She gestured around them. “This island is a thin place—the mists around it declare it so.” […] “Every world has at least one thin place,” Vesperus drawled. “And there are always certain people more suited to exploit it—to claim its powers, to travel through them to other worlds.” […] “Theia had the gift,” Vesperus said, “but did not understand how to claim the light. I made sure never to reveal how during her training—how she might light up entire worlds, if she wished, if she seized the power to amplify her own. But you, Light-Stealer…She must have passed the gift down to you. And it seems you have learned what she did not.” Vesperus peered at her bare feet, the rock beneath. “Theia never learned how to access the power I cached beneath my palace. She had no choice but to leave it there, buried in the veins of this mountain. Her loss—and my gain.” Oh gods. There was a fucking firstlight core here, far beneath their feet— (hofas)

These thin places are where ley lines—highways for magic and communication—overlap, allowing travel for those who are suited to it (wayfarers). Starborn and Asteri alike seem to be suited to these places, and have used them to store their power, causing the land around it to wither.

“Ley lines,” Bryce breathed. Aidas nodded. “These lines are capable of moving magic, but also carrying communications across great distances.” Like those between the Gates of Crescent City, the way she’d spoken to Danika the day she’d made the Drop. “There are ley lines across the whole of the universe. And the planets—like Midgard, like Hel, like the home world of the Fae—atop those lines are joined by time and space and the Void itself. It thins the veils separating us. The Asteri have long chosen worlds that are on the ley lines for that exact purpose. It made it easier to move between them, to colonize those planets. There are certain places on each of these worlds where the most ley lines overlap, and thus the barrier between worlds is at its weakest.” Everything slotted together. “Thin places,” Bryce said with sudden certainty. “Precisely,” Apollion answered for Aidas with an approving nod. “The Northern Rift, the Southern Rift—both lie atop a tremendous knot of ley lines. And while those under Avallen are not as strong, the island is unique as a thin place thanks to the presence of black salt—which ties it to Hel.” “And the mists?” Hunt asked. “What’s the deal with them?” “The mists are a result of the ley lines’ power,” Aidas said. “They’re an indication of a thin place. Hoping to find a ley line strong enough to help her transfer and hide Theia’s power, Helena sent a fleet of Fae with earth magic to scour every misty place they could find on Midgard. When they told her of a place wreathed in mists so thick they could not pierce them, Helena went to investigate. The mists parted for her—as if they had been waiting. She found the small network of caves on Avallen … and the black salt beneath the surface.”

All of the sister peaks thrum with power and are at odds with the land around them. Barren. They might all be thin places, interconnected through ley lines...and hiding a cache of magic in the root (heart) of their souls.

Bryce’s ancestors, separated by the Void, planted clues for those with the gifts and vision to see it.

What had looked like etched seas or rivers of stars now filled in with starlight, became … alive. Moving, cascading, coursing. A secret illustration, only for those with the gifts and vision to see it. (hofas)

A secret carved in stone. What secrets remain under other sacred mountains, such as Ramiel? Is it any coincidence that Enalius, who defended Ramiel, was the owner of Truth-Teller? Or that the Cauldron is depicted there? Who would be equipped with the gifts and vision to uncover those secrets and finally set the soul of the land free, like Bryce?

“Light blasted up through the blades into her hands, her arms, her heart. Bryce could hear it through her feet, through the stone. The song of the land beneath her. Quiet and old and forgotten, but there. She heard how Avallen had yielded its joy, its bright green lands and skies and flowers, so it might hold the power as it was bid, waiting all this time for someone to unleash it. To free it. […] Helena had bound the soul of this land in magical chains. No more. No more would Bryce allow the Fae to lay claim over anything. “You’re free,” Bryce whispered to Avallen, to the land and the pure, inherent magic beneath it. “Be free.” And it was. (hofas)

Helena bound the soul of Avallen in magical chains. Doesn't that sound like what the Asteri did with the Cauldron and the land? There are so many hints that Elain is set up to address this plot, but the one I find the most compelling is given by the Under-King when he confirms who Urd (Wyrd) is:

The Under-King lounged on a throne beneath a behemoth statue of a figure holding a black metal bowl between her upraised hands. Symbols were carved all over the bowl, continuing down her fingers, her arms, her body. Ithan could only assume it was meant to represent Urd. No other temples ever depicted the goddess, no one even dared—most people claimed that fate was impossible to portray in any one form. But it seemed that the dead, unlike the living, had a vision of her. And those symbols running from the bowl onto her skin…they were like tattoos.” […] “And she,” the Under-King went on, gesturing to that unusual depiction of Urd towering above him, “was not a goddess, but a force that governed worlds. A cauldron of life, brimming with the language of creation. Urd, they call her here—a bastardized version of her true name. Wyrd, we called her in that old world.” (hofas)

Now, doesn't that sound familiar?

Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d placed upon the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess—perhaps even the Mother herself. Nesta hadn’t let herself dwell on why she’d felt the need to set the rose there. Why she hadn’t just thrown it in a drawer. (acosf)

The statues are essentially the same and Wyrd has already been described in terms that evoke the Mother, Cauldron, and Fate (Forces That Be). And Nesta just happened to feel the need (fateful tug?) to place Elain’s rose—a symbol of life and joy and beauty—right next to Urd, and drew our attention to it again in the final scene of her story. What do you want to bet that Wyrd, the Stone Mother, gave her favorite gardener the gifts and vision she needs to make her dream of building more gardens, of breathing life and beauty into the land, a reality?

Sarah has confirmed that the main female characters in her books are helped by others, usually a love interest and friends. So who might be foreshadowed to help Elain?

I dragged a hand over my face before going to Elain and touching her too-bony shoulder. “Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.” “I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. (acowar) - “I’ll help you,” Nesta offered. But Elain shook her head. “Nuala and Cerridwen will help me.” Then she was gone–shoulders a little squarer. - It was three by the time the others went to bed. [...] Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. (acofas)

It’s no coincidence that the characters closest to Elain possess unique powers that complement her own and relate specifically to the elements of Stone Mother. Azriel learned to speak the language of shadow and wind and stone, while the half-wraith twins are nothing but shadow and mist, able to walk through walls, stone as @psychee92 discusses here. Their magic likely thrives in thin parts of the world. It also isn't a coincidence that Nesta noticed and wondered this:

“You came,” Elain said behind her, and Nesta started, not having heard her sister approach. She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends. (acosf)

Their beautiful, wraith-like team has the gifts necessary to traverse the slumbering heart of the earth as easily as foreign courts, which is a hard combination to find and is uniquely suited for Elain’s mission to release the Cauldron and land from the magical chains of the Asteri. Especially since we learn that Bryce uses both blades of the Starborn to free Avallen from its magical chains:

On an exhale, she plunged the weapons into the slits in the eight-pointed star. The small one for the knife. The larger one for the sword.

And like a key turning in a lock, they released what lay beneath. (hofas)

They even help Bryce rid the land of the Asteri and their core of power, creating a larger void to devour the one the Asteri set in place. Back in acowar, as many have noticed, Sarah already planted this moment between Azriel and Elain:

I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection…that knife. (acowar)

She and Azriel seem to represent the balance of light and dark in the Starsword and Truth-Teller, as @merymoonbeam theorized. The Starborn blade—the one belonging to Enalius—is a bridge of connection between them. Bryce leaves the Starsword (Gwydion) and Truth-Teller with Nesta, encouraging her to learn about her connection to the Starborn (eight-pointed star). That might mean the Archeron Starborn connection may happen after all. I could see Elain wielding those blades when needed, activating their magic as she seemed to do with Truth-Teller, to release the land from its magical chains. It would also be interesting if Elain and Azriel functioned like the Made blades themselves, releasing the Asteri’s chains with their own blend of raw magic, and watching joyously as life blooms in earnest again.

Once they remove the magical chains of the Asteri—on the land and their sacred Cauldron—perhaps we’ll also discover what exists between Elain and Azriel at last:

Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports–likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City–the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it.

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?”

“I’d keep that question from Lucien.”

“I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?”

Rhys straightened his lapels before plucking an invisible piece of lint from them. “Fate, the Mother, the Cauldron’s swirling eddies…” (acowar)

@silverlinedeyes, @offtorivendell, @elriell and others have written extensively about mating bonds, so I won’t discuss that in depth here. Essentially, Feysand and Nessian appear to have bonds that are true in spirit, and they are described as living threads of pure golden light between their souls.

Thread after thread of pure golden light flowed into him, and he met it with his own. Where those threads wove together, life glowed like starfire, and she had never seen anything more beautiful, felt anything more beautiful. (acosf)

This living light reminds me of the dawn, which is associated with healing and new beginnings. When Feysand and Nessian bind their souls together in these scenes, the dawn is invoked each time:

Feysand

…I was his and he was mine, and we were the beginning and middle and end. We were a song that had been sung from the very first ember of light in the world. (acomaf)

Nessian

Cassian roared as he came, and the sound was the summons of a hunt, a symphony, a single clear horn playing as dawn broke over the world. (acosf)

And when Azriel first sees Elain in his bonus chapter, her hair is unbound and she appears like the dawn, gilded in living light on the longest night of the year.

Soft steps padded from under the stair archway, and there she was.

The Faelights gilded Elain’s unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. (Azriel’s bonus chapter)

Is it possible that, with Elain’s connection to Wyrd and the land, her own threads of life are similarly chained, or warped? Perhaps when Elain clears away the Asteri’s power, we will finally see the truth blooming between them: threads of golden light twining together in an endless, earthy melody.

#hofas spoilers #hofas #acotar #crossover theories #elain archeron #azriel #nuala and cerridwen #urd goddess #stone mother #mother cauldron fate #forbidden secrets follow up #healing the land #she has the gifts and vision #elriel #elain x azriel #this was written like a fever dream #i may need to reblog more later

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see-arcane · 1 year

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Jokes aside Jonathan must have felt so very vulnerable after that night. Getting both scared and horny for the first time in his life aside, now he realized that the Count 1. Has claimed him as his own 2. Has moved from touching/grabbing/pulling him to taking the liberty to undressing him 3. Yet is the least dreadful thing here and the one he can go to seek protection and safety from

Points 1 through 3 have already been picked to death so I won't beat them any further into the ground. But the 'Mark me down as scared and horny!' of it all is something that legit has me going back and forth, so I'll hop on that.

Jonathan does state outright that he finds the Brides attractive, or, specifically, that he wants them to kiss him.

"All three had brilliant white teeth that shone like pearls against the ruby of their voluptuous lips. There was something about them that made me uneasy, some longing and at the same time some deadly fear. I felt in my heart a wicked, burning desire that they would kiss me with those red lips."

The most straightforward read on this and his ensuing ~dreadful anticipation~ is that Jonathan is A) Naturally attracted to the hot vampire ladies and/or B) Having natural attraction being enhanced on a supernatural-hypnosis level. I can see either being in play. But I don't think it's the most interesting--or terrifying--read.

The first thing I want to nitpick here is that this almost definitely is not him feeling lustful for the first time in his life (we'll learn more on that point later in the novel ala his relationship with Mina being A Lot 👀). Jonathan knows what attraction is, emotionally and sexually, from being a staunch Minasexual. Which is a not-quite-exaggerated way of saying I personally see Jonathan skewing more towards the demisexual and biromantic side of the scale. In that lens, he has the potential to be attracted to anyone regardless of gender, but first they have to win his interest/heart before he even starts connecting any sexy dots.

Minor spoilers, but through the whole novel, Jonathan does not refer to Mina with any physical descriptors when he gushes about her. It's always a reference to her character, to her actions, to Mina being Mina. Which I think is interesting when put in context with his fixation on describing Dracula and the Brides' appearances, be that in attracted, repulsed, or frightened terms. Because the vampires are the only ones who get that reaction out of him. And I think the former, the automatic physical attraction, is its own unique red flag to him; though he may not have the language for it. It's not just him being ashamed to feel attraction or to write it down when Mina might see it someday.

It's because that attraction is probably not even his.

He doesn't know these women. All beautiful, certainly. But strangers. They haven't spoken with him, haven't endeared themselves to him, haven't done one (1) single thing to provide an excuse for his highly reserved libido to pay attention. And I doubt he's gone his whole life blind to any pretty people in his vicinity. Hot people have happened to him before and he has not cared because for Jonathan, care has to precede lust.

What the Brides have done is introduce a wholly alien sensation to him--an instant arousal that was injected rather than awoken from some natural place in him. It makes me think of Toxoplasma gondii, that fun little parasite that switches off rodents' natural predator response to cats and makes them docile when the pretty kitty creeps up with their mouth open. And while the Brides' and Dracula's trance effect does get the basic job done of Keeping the Victim Still and Compliant, having the side effect of forcing a bodily reaction on that intimate of a level is a violation in itself.

Though it does have a purpose too. Because the very first thought Jonathan has upon seeing them turns out to be the most dangerous one: He wants them to kiss him.

The One Thing that will see him bled to death, then undeath. Which has its own super fun parallel in things like, say, the fucking Cordyceps fungus that turns ants into zombies forced to aid in their own and others' slavery/destruction.

And while Stoker wasn't in on all the scientific lookalikes in the animal kingdom, I doubt that Jonathan's mesmerized fixation on wanting to be kissed first and foremost, running on in a written stupor about lips and teeth and breath, was an accident.

Just like a mouse holding still as the cat scoops it into their maw.

Just like an ant crawling up to the sun so it can burst with spores and share its half-life demise with its fellows.

Hold still, dear. You want to hold still for us, don't you? Of course you do. Good boy. Here. Have a kiss.

#in which Jonathan is having the worst kind of bi time imaginable #brides of dracula #jonathan harker #dracula #re: dracula #dracula daily #dracula spoilers

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maymeowmoo · 4 months

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Just a lil idea I had that I'm super fixated on =u=/ I think it would be SUPER cute if their powers were enhanced with direct contact (so no gloves). Definitely adding smtg to do with this to my Au hehe~

#smg34 #smg4 #smg3 #smg4 fanart #art #digital art #comic #gay

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luciferism · 5 months

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[ "Divine Desire" ]

Simeon x Top AMAB!Reader

Summary: Just Simeon and reader having sex and a little play, basically.

Tags: 18+, one shot smut, bondage (at the beginning until half of the scene), anal sex, oral fixation (lots of kissing), explicit sexual content, dom/sub, lingerie/garter stockings kink, teasing/begging, humiliation (light), porn with feelings?, established relationship, pwp

Word Count: 5.8K words of porn

A/N: If you guys haven't noticed, I like writing character x top male reader than afab! or gender neutral. But I'll try more in the future, I guess.

[ Masterlist ] | [ Archive of Our Own ]

Simeon, clad in a provocative set of silk lingerie, lies motionless on his bed, bound by silky restraints that only enhance his alluring curves. As the moonlight trickles through the window, its touch seems even more sensual as it caresses his skin.

You smile as you take a moment to relish in the sight of Simeon laying on his bed. He takes in his soft, yet sensual appearance. Simeon is dressed in a white lace lingerie set, one that accentuates his youthful form. It's a sight to behold indeed, especially for you, who has been waiting for this moment for quite some time now.

Simeon's eyes flutter open, slowly, as he regains his bearings, and the world comes back into focus. Something about his predicament doesn't seem quite right, but he can't help but be drawn to the sensation of the soft silk cloth caressing his wrists and ankles. When he notices the dim, moonlight-filled room and the figure looming over him, he gasps softly. It is his boyfriend—you—already in your birthday suit.

"Is this to your liking, my little angel?" A devilish grin plastered on your face. Simeon trembles in anticipation, his face turning a dusky pink.

"W- what do you mean?" he asks, his voice quivering.

He glances down at himself, eyes widening at the sight of him in just a lacy lingerie. A shiver runs down his spine as he realizes that he's completely under your mercy. Just then, he is reminded of what you both have agreed on and how he enthusiastically wore the lace fabric earlier. All he can do is watch as you glide around the bed, trailing a finger down his chest softly.

"Simeon, it's me." You chuckle as you rest one of your fingertips on his chin.

Simeon's eyes go wide with both fear and excitement as he tries to struggle against the silky restraints holding him down. He struggles but the more he bucks and squirms, the tighter they get wrapped around his arms and ankles.

"My little angel. So eager. So responsive. So adorable." You lean closer until your faces are all but touching.

"Now, tell me... do you like this? Is this to your liking?" You kiss his cheek ever so slightly, making Simeon's face contort to a delicious blend of shock and pleasure.

As soon as your lips make contact with his cheek, Simeon feels as if his very core is erupting in sparks. Despite his current predicament, he finds no reason to complain as every touch, every whisper, sends pleasure-soaked ripples through him.

He's overcome with a sense of dread, and yet, he's drawn closer, unable to look away despite the growing intensity of the feeling. He gazes deep into your eyes, heart thumping fiercely in his chest. His words come out in barely a whisper.

"Y- yes," he mumbles, his voice laced with desire.

You sigh softly. Simeon looks very alluring as he lies on his bed as his limbs are restrained. The trickling light of the moon that enters the window and candlelight accentuates his lovely dark skin, even more so as the white lace lingerie decorates his skin in contrast. Simeon looks beautiful, perfect, he managed to depict a sexy character from an old man's erotic novel.

"Good, because you look even more beautiful right now." Your voice sounds husky yet gentle.

The gentle rumble of your voice sends ripples of goosebumps down Simeon's spine. His breathing quickens as he feels the heat rising inside his body. He gazes at you, trying to control his breath.

His heart skips a beat when he sees the hunger in your eyes as you check out Simeon's body. He struggles to tear his gaze away, feeling a bit embarrassed at being seen in such a vulnerable position. Despite the feeling, he can't help but feel a burst of adrenaline coursing through his body at the mere thought of your touch.

"Please…" he whispers, his voice shudders from pure vulnerability. He closes his eyes, his voice turning into a breathy murmur.

"I need you," he murmurs, his hand reaching for you but fails, his body craving your gentle touch.

The soft sound of Simeon's voice, begging, sends a slight shiver on your body. "Please" makes you feel proud and excited. You grin mischievously and caress Simeon's cheeks down to his neck, feeling the soft smooth skin under your palms.

"You're so soft." You smile and press a brief gentle kiss on Simeon's shoulder. You stay there for a bit, inhaling the scent of Simeon's body mixed with the smell of his shampoo.

Simeon shivers at your touch, his breath catching in his throat. He arches his back, relishing in the sensation of your touch on his soft, warm skin. He lets out a gentle moan, his eyes fluttering closed. He feels your lips on his shoulder, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. Your breath is hot and sweet on his skin, and it sends him spiraling deeper and deeper into pleasure. He squirms a bit, desperate for more, unable to sit still. His body trembles in anticipation.

Simeon's face flushes a vibrant red as he bites his lower lip.

"Ahh!" he whimpers, his voice laced with lust and hunger. He trembles as you trail more kisses down his shoulder, his body twitching. The feeling of your lips on his skin is making him crave more, the anticipation driving him wild with desire.

"Please," he begs, the words slipping past his lips. "I need more."

"Yes, my love." You shut your eyes as you kiss Simeon's lips.

It was aggressive, hungry, and gentle at the same time. Simeon's lips are soft and moist against yours and couldn't get enough of it. You entwine your tongue against his, tasting every corner of his mouth. While you kiss, your hands roam around Simeon's neck, shoulders, arms and finally rest them on his toned chest. You give Simeon's chest a light squeeze above his lace bra.

Simeon's body thrashes in response, his breath becoming shaky at the feeling of your kiss and touch. The heat of your tongue against his own and your warm breath wafting on his skin are making him wild with need and anticipation. Every part of his body, every inch of his skin, craves more of your touch and your kisses. The sensation of your hand on his chest above his skimpy bra, sends cascading pleasure and goosebumps down his flesh. He lets out a long, soft moan that echoes throughout the room.

"More…" he whispers. "Please."

You continue to squeeze and knead Simeon's covered chest. The feeling of the lace bra's rough texture and Simeon's soft flesh is intoxicating and arousing. The more you stimulate Simeon's chest, the more you can feel his nipples go hard and pucker against your palms.

"God..." You sharply inhale after pulling away from the kiss. Your saliva and Simeon's own have mixed and stained both of your mouths and chins.

"Mhm..." he groans quietly. "Oh..." His voice is hushed as if he's afraid someone's going to catch the both of you.

Simeon pants heavily, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps, his body writhing in pleasure but also slightly in discomfort. The feeling of your hand kneading his chest is making him ache for more, to have his clothes completely removed. But, the thought of exposure brings a hint of worry to his mind.

"Please," he moans, "I want more..." The words come out of his mouth, breathless and desperate. He wants to feel your mouth and hands on his body again. He wants to feel your touch, your caress. He needs it. Now.

Your eyes glimmer with delight. The sound of Simeon's breathy moans and his desperate pleas for your kisses and touch arouses you. Your manhood throb in response, but you want the both of you to enjoy this new experience. Simeon looks absolutely divine with his limbs being tied up on his bed, begging and ready for you.

"Tell me, Simeon, what do you want me to do?" Your lips curve upwards, your voice slightly above a whisper. A look of mischief and adoration adorns your face. You are glad to have Simeon let go of his inhibitions at this moment. This is a night for you both, a new way to enjoy yourselves in private.

Simeon's body is writhing in excitement, his head rolling back against the fabric of the bed, his fingers clenching tightly on nothing. Your hand has set ablaze his hunger; he craves for more. The idea of doing something this brazen, something he's never done before, is equally thrilling and daunting to him.

Simeon looks up at you, his eyes glazed with a burning lust and hunger. The sound of your voice, the way his body quivers and squirms when you touch him, it's driving him insane with desire.

He arches his back, his chest and stomach twitching and shivering as he gasps. "Please," he pants, "I need you.”

"I want you," he breathes, his voice a hushed whisper. "I want all of you. Right here. Right now. I want to feel your lips on my skin, every inch of my body. I... I want you to kiss me. Everywhere.”

Your eyes widened in surprise at Simeon's desperate response. Your mouth curls into a grin, and your eyes glitter as your gaze never falters to feast at Simeon. You feel your blood rush all over your flesh, your manhood is twitching more as it grows more erect, your eyes burning with pure lust as you look at Simeon's bound body. Simeon's excitement is self-evident under his skimpy lace undies.

With one swift move, you crawl over Simeon and place one knee on each side of his hip, pressing him down on the bed. Your free hand grabs the edge of Simeon's bra, and slowly you remove it, enjoying the sight of Simeon's chest gasping and heaving in hunger and in response to the cold air against his skin.

"That, my love, can be arranged." Your lips curve upwards to a devilish smile.

The hunger in Simeon's voice, the way he looks at you desperately, is making you feel hot and heavy. You never wanted someone so badly before, and you want nothing more than to satiate your beloved angel's desires. You lean down to Simeon on the bed, your tongue darting out to lick his lips in a teasing manner, tasting his sweet mouth once again.

Simeon gasps, the feeling of your hand on his chest and the touch of your warm tongue against his lips sending a wave of pleasure washing over his body. His tongue flicks out, lusting after the taste of your mouth.

His body is arching on the sheets and his legs slowly thrashes on the bed in an attempt to free himself from the silky restraint around his ankles. Simeon is ready to surrender to the pleasure of the night, his mind focused on your touching tongues and your gentle fingers working away at the lace of his bra.

“You taste even sweeter every time, Simeon.” You lick your lips as you stare at his sultry blue eyes.

He stares back, unable to tear his gaze away from his lover's eyes, his mind in a haze of lust. "Love…" he begs softly, full of desperation. "I need more.”

You grin at Simeon, your eyes glimmering with mischief as the two of you stare at each other with hungry glances, the air thick with unsaid words, the tension and anticipation slowly building. The heat of the moment is making your blood pump through your veins, making you want to devour Simeon whole. You lean forward with a low groan, your lips brushing against Simeon's ear as a chill runs down his spine.

"You want me?" You whisper softly. "Then, you'll have to say the words. Tell me how much you want me. Beg for me.”

Simeon's body thrashes frantically, his head tossing from side to side on the bed. His muscles strain against the binds of the silk cloth as all his senses are centered on your body pressed against his own.

"Yes," he pants, the words coming from deep within him. "I want you," he breathes, "I need you." Simeon's voice trembles with emotion and the desire for your touch. "I wanna feel your kiss on every inch of my body, you hear me? I need this.”

He tries to move, to close the distance between the two of you and wrap his limbs around you, but he can't. His bound hands and feet leave him helpless against your seduction.

You shiver at Simeon's reply. You draw back, your look of desire and mischief replaced by one of shock. Then, you smile, licking your lips once again. "Is that so?" You lean down once again, bringing your face really close to Simeon's.

"I like to see you like this, Simeon. Helpless. Begging. Desiring." Your words are whispered into Simeon's ear, making the angel's heart race even more. Your teeth flash, and your lips curl into a lustful, devilish grin once more.

"I've got you at your most vulnerable and I have the power to do anything I want with you." You trace a finger down Simeon's bare chest, your gaze burning with heat and desire. You press yourself against the angel's body, your own hips grinding lightly against Simeon's lace thong-decorated manhood. You lean in closer again, your lips almost touching Simeon's.

"Then, what will you do in exchange for me?" With a devilish twist, you push yourself away, leaving Simeon panting for breath as he stares at you.

Simeon gasps for breath, his heart beating so fast, it's like a bird trapped in his chest. His gaze is locked on your lips, thirsting for your kiss. His eyes flicker around your naked body, his gaze stopping at your hips grinding against him. Simeon's heart thunders wildly in his chest, his body trembling as he stares at his lover.

"My love," he whispers hoarsely. "Don't tease me like this. Please... I need you. I'll do anything you ask, just let me have you.” Simeon gasps as he struggles to catch his breath. His heart, pumping furiously, echoes throughout his ears. He watches you with a mixed look of excitement and nervousness.

"Please..." he pleads once more, his voice quivering. His skin is flushed, his expression lustful, his lips slightly parted. His eyes flutter closed for a moment before he looks at you again.

"Love, please..." his voice above a hushed whisper, "Please, take me now.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as well as you watch Simeon's response to your words. The way Simeon's breathing changes, the way his pupils dilate and the way his lips part in lustful anticipation is driving you even more mad with desire. You slowly start to work on unlacing Simeon's bindings, your smile widening with each knot loosened. Soon, Simeon's hands and feet fall free.

Simeon feels his breath hitch as your hands make their way down to him, the knots loosening slowly but surely. Soon, he feels his hands free. He watches you with a mix of hunger, desire, and excitement, his voice barely a murmur when he speaks.

"God... I..." Simeon's mind struggles to formulate a coherent speech. Your touch is turning him into mush, the feeling of your fingers drawing tantalizing trails down his body making Simeon shiver and groan. "Please," he breathes. "I... I need your touch.”

"Oh, my, your patience and good behavior were rewarded," you tease, your voice brimming with lust more than earlier.

You spread your lover's thighs and you settle your whole body in between them. You glide your palms down Simeon's chest and your fingers trail the crevices of his toned abdomen, leaving a titillating sensation that ripples on his body. You are enjoying this far too much, your fingers tracing more soft trails on Simeon's flesh with tantalizing slowness.

The moment Simeon sees your fingers trail down his thigh and garter stockings, the heat of the moment rises up in flames. His heart races, his breath coming in short, shuddering gasps. Your touch is bringing him to another level of pleasure, and he can't control the moans of desire escaping his lips. His body trembles under your touch, his eyes fluttering open and then shut again. In the midst of this, Simeon's mind goes blank, unable to form a coherent thought. He can only feel and crave for more.

"Oh, look at you, Simeon," you whisper, "your heart is beating so fast. You're panting wildly like a dog in heat, your cheeks flushed, your eyes closed with pleasure and lust. Did you want this to happen, love?" You lean in closer, your lips almost brushing against Simeon's.

"Or are you just surprised at how much I can make you want me?" Your breath is warm and seductively close to Simeon's, and your touch is a tantalizing, lingering caress.

Simeon's body shudders in response to your words, his breath coming in deep, ragged gasps. His eyes flutter open as he stares at your face, his gaze burning with lust and excitement. He watches as you caress his face, your lips tracing a kiss against his earlobe. The touch is electric and makes him hiss in shock.

Your eyes glimmer with lust and desire. You stare at Simeon's flushed face, watching his breath come and go in short, shallow gasps. "Oh my, you really are in need of me, aren't you?" You tease your lover. "Good angel. I think you deserve a reward for your patience."

You grin and kiss Simeon's earlobe before whispering, "You're mine, Simeon. I can do anything I want with you." You caress Simeon's face gently before leaning in to kiss him, your tongue pressing against Simeon's lips.

The kiss from you is a breath-taking experience for the angel. Your lips press softly against his, your tongue licking and gently teasing Simeon’s. The sensation is so pleasurable that Simeon almost loses himself, his body shaking and his breathing quickening as he kisses his lover back.

Simeon's moans grow louder and more desperate. Your hand roams down Simeon's arm, across his chest, and to his hips before grabbing a hold of his ass. You slowly untangle the angel's thong, leaving Simeon with only his garter stockings adorning his waist and legs. You push him down and lower yourself on top, your fingers digging into Simeon's flesh.

The moment the lacy thong falls away from his waist, Simeon's voice is filled with lust and desire. His hips gyrate instinctively against your hips, and his breath catches in his throat at the feel of your bodies rubbing against each other. He stares up at your face with a come-hither expression on his own.

Your lips twitch in a small, sly grin. With a firm and hungry grip on Simeon's ass, you grind against the angel as your mouth curves into a pleased smile.

"Is your body mine, Simeon?" you whisper, "I think you know the answer to that question." You give a quick, hard squeeze on his ass cheeks and then relax your grip. "Your skin is so soft, love," your voice is still hushed in a seductive whisper as your eyes blatantly sweep a lustful gaze all over Simeon’s body.

Simeon writhes like a fish out of water as your hands continue to caress his chest, his abdomen, his waist, his hips, his inner thighs and his soft plump ass cheeks. You are driving him wild with your teasing; and Simeon's desperate breaths make the feeling all the more intense.

The pressure of your body against his delivers him to madness, his moans rising in pitch and urgency. The touch of your hands and lips on his body sends waves of pleasure cascading through Simeon's flesh, sending him further spiraling into a place of bliss.

"You, yes... don't stop, give me more," he whispers, his head rolling back in pleasure, his body begging for satisfaction. His body craves for more of your touch, of you in all your glory, and he's finally getting everything he wants.

Simeon's fingers grab onto the bed sheets as his body shakes, moaning at the sensation of your lips against his own once more. He opens his eyes slightly, his heart beating like a drum. He stares at your face, his gaze filled with desire and lust, his breath coming in short, staggered gasps.

You grin as Simeon begins to squirm more under your weight, his legs opening wide for you. You caress Simeon's thigh gently, your fingers tracing soft patterns over the angel's smooth and silky skin.

"Beg for it, Simeon." your words come as a deep, sultry whisper, the heat of your breath grazing Simeon's skin. You slowly begin to move against Simeon, your fingers squeezing his thigh and your hips grinding slowly against Simeon's erect, weeping manhood once again.

Your caress is bringing him to heights of pleasure that he's never experienced before. "Oh... yes, you..." he murmurs softly. "Yes..." His breath falters as you grind back on top of him. He looks up at you with a mix of desire and anticipation. "Please..." he begs.

You gaze down at Simeon and your eyes glimmer with lust. The heat of the moment is driving you to your own wild thoughts with each passing second. You can almost feel the rush of hormones and your own body's response to Simeon's warmth.

"I'm glad you want me, Simeon." you smile at him. "Because, I sure as hell want you too." This statement is punctuated with a deep, passionate kiss. "You're so sweet. So soft and so warm." Your voice is husky as you whisper this to your lover.

Simeon is unable to form coherent thoughts. His tongue darts out, trying to find your tongue and engage in a game of tug-of-war. His hands wrap around your body, feeling the curves of your form and the hard planes of your anatomy. His breath comes in short, rapid gasps, and his fingertips grip your body.

You smirk at Simeon, your eyes gleaming with desire and his voice a hoarse whisper. "I love hearing you moan and gasp for me," you breathe out, and your fingers tighten on Simeon's ass as your grip becomes more aggressive.

"It's so rewarding, seeing how much you want me." You lean down to press your lips passionately against Simeon's, while at the same time, you slowly, teasingly trace a finger on the seams of Simeon's garter stockings.

"Tell me again, Simeon," he whispers, "how much you want to be taken, in each and every way possible.”

Simeon's body shivers as he hears your husky whispers. His eyes flutter open as your fingers continue to firmly grip his ass, and his breath comes out in short, shallow gasps. He gazes up at your eyes—his cheeks, already flushed with heat, grow even rosier, and his lips curl into a lustful smile.

"I want you," he whispers back, his voice hoarse and breathless. "Please, love... please..." he begs. "I want you to take me hard, to satisfy your thirst and mine. I want you to break me, to claim me. Please, my love, please..." He begs like a desperate lover, his body is screaming for you.

Your eyes glitter in delight as you watch Simeon's passionate pleas. You lean down and whisper close to Simeon's ears, your voice a low rumble.

"Oh, you sweet, sweet angel," you murmured. "You have no idea how much I've desired you. Your sweet, soft flesh, your supple body... I will take you in every way possible. In every possible position imaginable. I will ravage your tender flesh and leave this bed a pool of pleasure." you sigh, your eyes burning with desire. "I've wanted this," you whisper.

Simeon's mind clouds with lust as he hears your low rasps. He stares at you with his eyes half-lidded, his body trembling in want and desire. His breath comes out in rapid, excited breaths as you kiss his neck and trails your lips lower. With each breath, his heart beats louder, his body thrills with desire, and his fingers twist into tight, clenched fists as his fingers squeeze the sheets in pleasure.

You grin at Simeon, your lustful gaze fixed on your lover. You move your hands back, leaving a trail of kisses on Simeon's soft skin once again. After a moment, your lust takes hold of you as you grab Simeon's waist tightly, pulling him even closer. Your lips come crashing down on Simeon's, your tongue exploring the angel's mouth with hunger. You devour Simeon's body with your kisses, your fingers tracing a trail of lust as you move them up the angels' legs.

"Oh yes, Simeon," you groan as you tease Simeon's entrance with your soaked tip, "I'm gonna take you now, angel."

Simeon's back arches and his body trembles as you move your fingers closer and closer to his inner thighs. His eyes flutter open with desire and anticipation as they look up into your glimmering eyes. His breath is quick and short, and he whimpers softly as you finally touch his pulsing entrance and teases him with your tip.

His hips involuntarily grind against you as he begs for you to give him the one thing he craves most. "You, please..." he whispers, his eyes locked onto your lustful gaze. "I want it... I want it so bad... I need you…”

Your grin widens even more and nods at Simeon's obvious need and lustful begging. "I'm gonna take you now, Simeon. All of you," you whisper, your voice thick with lust and quiver ever so slightly. "Just tell me how hard you want it."

You chuckle and kiss Simeon's neck once again. Your lips press kisses and you bite him with gentle aggression, your tongue exploring every inch of the angel's skin to add extra stimulation to your touch. Simeon's whimpers grow louder as he pleads and begs, but you ignore his pleas and tease him at your own pace.

Simeon's entire body quivers and his breath comes out in moans and whimpers as he begs you to give him everything he wants. His voice is barely even heard as he whispers your name and begs to be taken. He clings fiercely onto you, his fingers curled against your back, his nails digging into your flesh, your lips still pressed against his neck as he begs and pleads.

Finally, you push yourself fully into Simeon and bring your hips forward and move back again in a slow rhythm. "Mmm," you moan breathlessly, "you feel so good, Simeon. I need you... God, I need you."

The moment you push himself fully into Simeon, it's as if his entire world comes to a standstill. The heat of your touch envelops him in an overwhelming haze, leaving him breathless and unable to think clearly as his brain reels in pleasure.

"Ohh…" he murmurs seductively, the heat of the moment getting too much for him. "Mmm, god. I need... I need you too…”

You thrust deeper and hold the angel's hips down, your touch filling Simeon with pure ecstasy. "That's it... That's it, Simeon." You start to roll your hips slowly and sensually, pleasing yourself and Simeon at the same time.

His body arches back under the force of your touch, pressing his own flesh against yours as he begs for you to move faster, to give it to him. "Yes, please, god! Yes, harder! Harder!”

His whimpers grow louder and louder, becoming pleas and urgent demands. His body trembles from pure ecstasy, his hands clasped together and clinging desperately to your back as he begs for more.

Your eyes are filled with excitement as you watch and feel Simeon's eager and passionate reaction to your touch. Your muscles flex and your heart pounds with pleasure. You move your hips faster, teasing Simeon with a faster pace before slowing down again to a sensuous rhythm.

"Harder, please!" Simeon lets out a loud moan as you speed up your movements even more. His hips arch back, his body writhing in pleasure as your thrusts become faster and rougher, hitting him in his most delicious spots..

"Faster, please! Harder!" Simeon begs passionately, his body shaking as the heat of the moment grows. He grips tighter on your back as he leans forward, his body desperate for the release it craves.

Your eyes glitter with desire and your mouth is agape as you hear Simeon's desperate moans. Your touch is no longer teasing or playful. You are taking Simeon with a force which he's never felt before. You know the angel wants it, needs it, and you are more than willing to give it. You moan softly and plunge your lips onto Simeon's collarbone.

Simeon's body quivers under your touch as he finally gets the full and hard penetration he's been waiting for. He gasps and his chest heaves softly as you push down on him harder. Simeon clings onto you with all his might as he grinds his hips against yours as well.

"Yes, yes, like this... God, yes, harder, faster... harder!" His breath comes out in quick, short gasps, as he begs you to go deeper and faster with your thrusts.

"Yes, Simeon. Yes." You whisper hoarsely. The sudden change of pace sends shivers down Simeon's spine and his back arches as he lets out involuntary depraved moans—which you did not expect from him tonight. Nevertheless, you are both digging this new experience in your sex lives.

"Oh… Oh my god, yes!" He lets out a loud cry as his body convulses under your forceful touches. His eyes roll back as he moans and groans seductively, his body pulsating with pleasure. "Yes, oh, god, yes!" he gasps, "More, more, more... I need it!”

Your face is flushed with desire as you hear Simeon endlessly beg for you to go deeper and faster. Your touch becomes more intense and forceful, your thrusts more deep and penetrating. You move your hips rapidly, filling Simeon with pleasure and lust. You grit your teeth and push yourself into Simeon again and again. You groan and your breath comes out in short, raspy puffs, as you move faster and pound into Simeon with all your strength.

"Oh, Simeon, I'm getting close," you moan breathlessly, feeling the pressure building in your stomach. "Are you ready to be mine? Will you be my good, obedient angel?”

Simeon's eyes roll back into his head as your rhythmic pounding hits all the right spots. His entire body shivers and his legs wrap around you in a desperate plea for you to go deeper. His moans of pleasure grow louder as he gasps eagerly for breath. He begs and begs, unable to control his lust for you.

"Yes, you, take me... Yes, please! Oh, god, give it all to me! Please take me, make me yours!" Simeon begs in his hoarse, desperate voice. Simeon cries out softly under your touch, his body trembling and quaking with pure ecstasy.

"Yes, you. Please, I need this, I want this. I want to be yours." Simeon moves his hips up and down, meeting your thrusts with equal force, eager to let you have your way.

Your breaths quicken more, your eyes shimmer with lust and desire as you pick up the pace, rolling your hips seductively; your thrusts becoming harder, more pleasurable, and more intense.

Simeon's cries grow louder, his body trembling and quaking as you thrash and thrust into him vigorously. His fingers are buried deep into your flesh as his hips move in and out with your thrusts. His gasps get louder but his breath comes in short, shallow gasps and his moans drown out even the loudest of sounds.

"God, oh, god..." his voice above whispers—weak and desperate—as he clings to your body as he rocks back and forth underneath you. "Yes, I want this. I need this. I need you.”

You moan as you hold Simeon's body closer to yours, feeling every inch of the angel as you thrust in and out in a faster and faster rhythm. "Oh, yes, Simeon. I need you so bad. Oh yes, I want you so bad! Take me, Simeon. Oh, I'm... I'm going to..."

You lean down once more, your lips crash deep into Simeon's, forceful yet passionate; just like how your thrusts have become as you reach your climax. Your hands grip the angel's ass firmly under both of your weight, pushing yourself in deeper as your seed spurts and fills Simeon to the brim.

Simeon moans and gasps softly as the moment finally strikes, his whole body trembling under your forceful touch. The angel grips onto your shoulders and pulls you closer as his legs clasp around your waist, his eyes shut tight and he goes breathless. He grinds his hips against yours desperately, his voice hoarse and his lungs beg for more air. "Love... yes… oh yes!"

His whole body quivers violently as his climax strikes not long after yours, his body arching back and his eyes shut tight, bringing his senses into new heights.

Simeon's body tightens in response as he releases. He pushes back against you desperately, craving more of your electrifying touches on his body. His eyes flutter closed and he clings onto your frame as the seeds spill out over both your bodies. Panting softly, Simeon slowly opens his eyes to lock eyes with you.

"I love you." He whispers in between breaths and smiles sweetly.

Your expression softens as you hear Simeon whisper "I love you." Your smile is gentle as you look back at Simeon, taking in every inch of the angel's flushed and exhausted body. You kiss him gently for a moment while savoring the dissipating tingles all over your body.

"I love you too, Simeon," you whisper softly as you roll over to the angel's side; pulling Simeon closer to your chest, covering both your damp bodies with a warm embrace. You hold Simeon close to your frame, never wanting to let go. You run your hands over Simeon's back and down his arms, your thumbs leaving warm trails wherever they go. "You are my love, angel... my precious, sweet Simeon."

"Let's take some rest, shall we?" you hush in a whisper, your voice rasping with fatigue and pleasure.

Simeon wraps his arms around you, embracing you tightly as well. His touch is soft and delicate as he runs his fingers through your hair. "Mine," he whispers to himself. He lays his head down on your chest, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat.

"Mine." The whispers continue as he caresses your body. "It's so hard to resist, but you're mine. Mine, mine, mine forever." His breathing grows slower and less erratic, his eyes closing as he drifts into a deep, restorative slumber.

#obey me fanfic #obey me #obey me smut #obey me oneshot #obey me x male reader #obey me x reader #obey me simeon #simeon x reader #om! simeon

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testingthewatersss · 4 months

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Kissing Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, etc. this one is actually pretty tame tbhBucky Barnes x F Reader Oneshot 3000 words fluff, angst, comfort & kissing. 18+ MDNI Bucky can't stop thinking about kissing. Reader is Tony’s sister, a non-enhanced shield agent who recently resurfaced.

Kissing is something that Bucky has been fixated on for months, now.

He’s been out of the grips of HYDRA and settled into the tower for just long enough for his mind to be wondering away from the terrors that have been plaguing him ever since he’d first been dragged out of a cryo tank with blood that was on fire, and an arm that wasn’t his own.

At first, the breaks from panic had been so far and few between that he’d quarantined himself in his newly renovated bedroom and only dared to let himself within one metre of Steve, in case he suddenly forgot where he was and caused some kind of irreparable damage, but then, he’d met her…

He hadn’t meant to. He’d made every effort to avoid running into Tony’s younger sister, but then, when he had finally decided to eat, he’d snuck out of his room at three am, and he’d found her, messy haired and sketching at the breakfast bar, he’d been too stunned to run, so he stayed, and despite his initial reservations she’d rapidly become one of the only people in the world that he genuinely trusts.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” she coos, beaming at him from across the counter, “you’re starring.”

He is starring— She’s beautiful, kind, and patient, and her face is being lit by the sunlight that is just starting to pour in through the big glass windows, and despite himself, he’s been utterly captivated by the way her mouth is curling around the white coffee mug she’s drinking from.

She quirks a brow, and Bucky feels his cheeks burn red and hot as he averts his gaze from her lips.

Kissing, isn’t something he gets to do, no matter how badly he might want to.

They’re alone in the room. It’s early, and, they both know they have a couple of hours until anyone else starts to surface.

Even though he’s blushing, Bucky can’t help but let his eyes roll back up to Y/N’s face, he settles a little when he notices how her attention isn’t on him, it’s split between a book that’s propped open on the counter top and the coffee she’s holding in one of her hands.

Her teeth tug at the corner of her mouth, and he finds himself imagining what it would be like to let his thumb hover against the pink-

Stop it, Barnes, he thinks sternly, starring at a dame without her knowin' is creepy enough.

She goes to take another drink, but this time her gaze catches his. She offers him a smile, but he misses it, suddenly overwhelmed with the horrible sensation of being caught doing something wrong; He blurts out a “Sorry” that he hopes might spare him a scolding, and he makes a point of averting his eyes, focusing intently on the grey, marble surface before him.

When a soft hand lands on his cheek, he jolts back, throwing the stool out from under himself and stumbling into the wall with a crash that only startles him further.

He can’t breathe- He can’t think- The sound of something breaking is fresh in the air, and all he knows is that he’s done something wrong, that something bad is coming—

“Hey…” she exhales, calm, “You’re okay, it’s just me, alright? I’m gonna come closer”

Just like that blue eyes are wide, and once again insanely focused on Y/N’s face, though his thoughts are significantly less pleasant, this time around -

“You’re alright, I promise”

Bucky barely hears her, with the way his ears are suddenly thrumming with his panicked pulse, but still, he forces a jerky, obedient nod as the woman takes a cautious step towards him.

“I’m sorry,” she tells him next, “That was my fault- I shouldn’t have touched ya’ without askin’-”

He’s panting, his eyes are wild, and Y/N can see the way that his metal hand is scratching at the smooth surface that he’s backed himself up against.

“Bucky” she calls, a little firmer now, “Can you take a deep breath for me?”

“Y-Yeah” he gasps, “Yeah — I- I… I’ll— I-” Don’t hurt me, he thinks desperately, I’ll do whatever you want—

A single deep breath is hardly much better than the way he’d been hyperventilating before, but, she thinks, It proves he's listening.

She almost wishes he wasn’t so focused on her, though, because the look on his face is devastating to see—

He’s barely blinking, so she offers him a comforting smile, before showing him both of her hands and taking another, slow, step towards him,

“It’s just me, okay?” she purrs, “Can I touch you, sweetheart? I’m not going to hurt you, I promise”

I’m not going to hurt you

He’s heard that before, more times than he can count, and it’s almost always been followed by cruelty. But this, this is Y/N, and she’s promising him, and she’s never lied to him before.

The nod he gives her is slight, but, definitely there so, she compromises by reaching out slowly, leaving a centimetre between his cheek and the skin of her open palm.

“It’s alright-” she whispers, seeing the conflicted crease in his brow, “-You’re fine.”

Bucky can feel the heat of her hand, he wants to lean in towards her, more than anything, but he’s so used to stillness meaning safety, that he decides not to risk it.

“Shit” he gulps, voice cracking with adrenaline, “I-I didn’t mean to— t-to break anythin’…”

Don’t be angry, he pleads internally, I can't even offer to pay to fix it, I could try, I guess-

Y/N throws a glance over her shoulder. She hadn't noticed anything breaking. Not that it matters. The stool is still lying on the ground, at worst she thinks there might be a crack on the bar, from where he’s grabbed it in his panic, but she can have it's nothing that couldn't be fixed in a matter of hours. She just smiles as she looks back over at him, shaking her head and re-thinking her approach by opening her arms in invitation;

“You're fine-” she repeats, beaming as he starts to move, tentatively shuffling into her embrace, “-C’mere, Buck— did you have a rough night?”

The second he surrenders and lets his brow drop to Y/N’s waiting shoulder, he crumbles. Tears are suddenly burning behind his eyes, so he shuts them, gritting his teeth so hard that his jaw aches in his frantic attempt to stop himself from crying.

She feels the change in his posture, and wraps her arms around him, stroking his back slowly, as he fights to control his breathing.

“Did you get any sleep?”

Her question makes his heart stammer urgently. He doesn’t want to lie, but the idea of being honest in with his answer is just as sour somehow.

“I- uh,- tried—” is what he whispers, urgently, into the crook of her neck, “—I swear, it's the beds or, or something, they don't feel like they used to-”

Her heart aches at the crack in his voice, she nods, and whispers out an “I believe you” that works at easing the tension. Something in her tone, whether it’s the gentle lilt of affection, or just the way that she is really not freaked out by this whole encounter is unclear, but it's there and he loves it.

He really just loves it.

“C’mon,” she purrs, pulling back a little, “Wanna eat somethin’, with me?”

Without meaning too, Bucky clings to the fabric of her t-shirt. The idea of losing a fraction of the contact she’s giving him so readily is painful.

She’s not oblivious to the way he’s holding on to her like his life depends on it— she’s known him for long enough to know that he flickers between states of total self-inflicted isolation, and a genuine need for the skin on skin.

It makes sense, really— He’s been touched-starved for god knows how long. He’s been locked up and tortured, and worse for a lifetime, and even though everyone had been warned about his status as HYDRAs ‘attack dog’, she’s always thought that from the second he’d started to trust her, the transition to ‘lap dog’ had been awfully fast.

“I-“ Bucky whispers, “I’m—‘m not- not r-eady” I’m not ready to let go, he thinks urgently, not yet.

“Alright, sweetheart” Y/N replies with the same gentle voice he likes so much, “We've got nowhere to be”

Bucky has no idea how she always seems to know what he needs to hear, but he takes it all the same; and she doesn’t try and draw back again, not when there is no reason for her to rob him of whatever small facet of comfort he’s managing to find in her arms.

She’s more than happy to remind him that he’s with friends, now, and not strangers who hurt him for no reason.

“You got plans for today, Buck?” she asks, once the rise and fall of his chest start to regulate, “Or are you a free-agent?”

“I… t-told Steve I’d check in… he’s— he’s been worryin’ about me”

She laughs at that, quiet and soft against the side of his head.

“He’s been worryin’ about you since 1942”

That makes him crack a smile, it’s small and unsteady, but it’s there, and as he unveils his face from her shoulder, Y/N sees it, and she can’t help but reach up to stroke his cheek—

Just like that, his focus is back to kissing.

His eyes are watching the soft curve of her lips, the pressure of her fingers against the skin of his face is drawing him in, and he can almost feel her mouth on his—

Y/N doesn’t question his obvious distraction this time, she just watches patiently as he stares at her with an expression she can’t quite place;

“So…” she exhales, “…Once you’ve let Cap’ seen you’re not in mortal peril, you wanna come hang out with me in my lab?”

“Yes,” he bursts, eager to agree, “yes, p-please I— I’d… I’d like that a lot—”

Bucky loves Y/N’s lab.

He loves the way that it’s full of incredible things that she makes an effort to explain to him, over and over again, even though he barely ever understands it anyway. He loves the way he knows where he can go, and what he can touch, and how it never feels like he’s going to get into some kind of trouble for existing in there, but more than any of that, he thinks, he loves her. He loves her being there, beside him, chattering away like he’s not broken, and touching her hand against his like he hasn’t murdered people twice her size—

“I was hopin’ you might…” Y/N coos happily, snapping his attention firmly back to her face, “…You never know-” she adds, “-You might even manage to get some rest on one of the couches-”

He shoots her a longing glance and hopes earnestly that she doesn’t know how infatuated with her he is. He suspects that she does know, though, when she leans in and presses her lips against his brow.

Kissing.

Y/N is kissing him.

It only lasts a second, but it makes his breathing stop all the same.

When she pulls back, grinning and still stroking his jaw with her thumb, he feels whatever had been left of his resolve shattering.

“If you're breakin' out the puppy dog eyes” she coos, genuinely concerned by the way tears are suddenly filling his eyes, “you must want somethin'... huh? what? You wanna head down right now?”

That's exactly what he wants.

He nods, sniffing lamely as he tries not to blink in case any more emotion spreads across his face. Y/N doesn’t say anything else, she just looks over at the elevator door and waits for him to pad away from her hands, towards it.

It doesn’t take long for them to make it to her laboratory. She scans them both in, and when FRIDAY makes her usual offer of preparing the space for their use, she dismisses the AI politely, with a single request regarding the heating being turned on.

To Bucky’s initial dismay, Y/N doesn’t even look at him— she heads straight for a cupboard, where she proceeds to stand up on her tiptoes in order to reach something that he also can’t make out.

When she turns on her heels, holding a thick, dark, blanket, he’s sure he’s seeing things.

“C’mon then, sweetheart— Pick a couch, any couch”

What?

He blinks at her dumbly, still feeling tears stinging behind his eyes.

She tilts her head and chuckles, before looking around the room at the three, different loveseats;

“Do you have a preference?” she reiterates, “or-”

“I want to stay with you” he bursts, unable to hold back, “I… I mean, I— I- I like, I-“

Y/N feels her heart swelling with flattery, he’s so sweet, so hopelessly hungry for affection and companionship that the idea of anyone hurting him makes her almost irrationally angry.

“Come on then” she exhales, reaching out a hand towards him, and opening and closing her fist in invitation, “Dealers choice”

His chest stammers nervously as he lets his flesh fingers close around hers. He can’t even begin to understand why she’s being so kind to him, but she is, and he needs it. So he doesn’t ask, he just follows behind her as she leads him to a dark leather sectional that’s tucked away in the corner of the room.

“FRIDAY, can you send Cap’ a message please?-” Y/N purrs, folding down on to the plush cushions, “-Tell him that Barnes is fine, and that he’ll catch him for dinner or something later on”

“Sure thing, boss”

She’s still holding his hand, watching him with an expression so lovely that he can barely handle it.

“I-I— I-” he mumbles, “I’m— uh—“

“Exhausted” Y/N cuts in, patting the space beside her, “C’mon, sweetheart, I’ve got some readin’ to catch up on, you can curl up right here and keep me company”

That little burst of encouragement is all it takes for Bucky to fight past the embarrassment he’s feeling and settle himself on the couch, before, he very, very slowly, begins to lie himself down, with his head in Y/N’s lap.

“There” she coos, approving, “lets just-“ she adds, throwing the quilt up, over his body, “That’s better, right? nice and warm”

He can barely comprehend the niceness of his position. He’s staring up at her, wide-eyed and vulnerable, and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s bringing their tangled hands up to his lips, so that he can press a kiss against her knuckles.

The gesture is so, so lovely, that Y/N can’t help but smile down at him, reaching across with her free fingers to start to stroke his hair back, away from his brow.

“You” she whispers, “Are the sweetest guy alive, y’know that?”

He doesn’t, he doesn’t know anything close to that. So he shakes his head and feels his eyes spilling over, down across his cheeks as he lets himself close them.

Everything feels too raw. He’s tired, exposed, and in love and he hadn't realised that morning, and now he can't stop realising it and it’s too much, right now, because he doesn't know how or when it happened, but she is one of the most important people in his life, and he’s just kissed her hand, and he didn’t ask first, and he’s sorry, and he’s scared and tired, and—

“Well you are…” she says, making his frantic thoughts slam to a halt, “…You’re lovely, and charming, and handsome—”

Suddenly, he’s staring again.

“I’m sorry” he gulps, “I- I really am, Y/N/N-”

That isn’t what she’d been expecting to hear.

She shakes her head, slipping her hand down, so that she’s stroking his cheek with her thumb;

“I… I mean it” he counters, “I- I shouldn’t h-have kissed you- I-”

“What?” Y/N asks, genuinely confused, “What are you talking, about Buck?”

“Just now… I— Y-your hand, I— I, I couldn’t help it, darlin’— I- I- I’ve been thinkin’ a-about kissin’— about kissin’ you, and I— I shouldn’t have— I- I just couldn’t— I-“

He’s getting so worked up that his nostrils are flaring. It’s painful to watch, so she wastes no time in slipping the hand she’s holding up to her own lips, where she kisses his knuckles this time, effectively silencing him instantly.

“You’ve been thinkin’ about kissin’ a lot, huh?” she wonders, after a moment of silence,

Oh, god.

His face is on fire.

His eyes are full of tears again, but he can’t tear them away from her face.

She’s smiling, and he can’t help but think that she looks like an angel-

He nods, too mortified to make his confession aloud.

“and is it just me you’ve been thinkin’ about?” she presses, a lilt of humour in her tone, “or is it Natasha, too?”

“No” he bursts, “No, Y/N/N.. it…uh, it’s just you…”

Bucky knows he’s caught. He knows that no matter how humiliating this whole thing might be, that lying is only going to make it worse.

“Well” Y/N exhales, expression thoughtful, “It’s been a long time for you, sweetheart, it’s only normal that you’re gonna think about things like that-”

A strange kind of bravery washes over him for a minute, and he shakes his head, looking right at her, as he speaks,

“It’s not that, doll, it’s-” he inhales, “It's you, I didn't get it but, I, I do now and I know it’s— it’s crazy and I- I shouldn’t be tellin’ ya but I- I just want ya to know that you— you mean the world to me, and I- I-” “It has been a while, though, right?”

The teasing in her voice cuts through the intensity of the atmosphere, and despite himself, and his crippling anxiety, Bucky finds himself scoffing.

“Yeah..” he agrees, “Yeah it… it’s been a while.”

Y/N beams at him, before kissing his hand again.

“I know I just got FRIDAY to make you dinner plans with Rodgers,” she says, “But he's had plenty of chances to third wheel already- how would you feel about givin' him a rain check? that way we can talk about our feelings for each other somewhere more romantic than my lab—”

His breath catches in his throat. His fingers tighten around hers and for a horrible second, Y/N worries that she’s totally misread the situation;

“W-what do you mean ‘feelings for each other’?”

It’s her turn to blush now, even though Bucky thinks he’s never seen anyone so perfect;

“Well I…” she murmurs, “I might’ve misunderstood you, sweetheart, but it- it sounded like you were sayin’ you-”

“I do” he’s quick to assure her, “Y/N/N, I— I mean… but you— you-”

“Am kinda sweet on you too”

The man in her lap offers her a smile that splits his face- She thinks it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen, even if he’s blatantly exhausted.

“So…” she sighs, beaming back at him “…You get some rest… I’ll finish some work that I can’t make Tony’s problem and then…” she purrs, stroking her free hand through his hair, “Then we’ll see about the kissing…”

Masterlist

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #the winter soldier x you #Oneshot #fluff #x reader #drabble #bucky barnes oneshot

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azaleaniath · 1 year

Text

It is done. I think this is my best one yet. Enjoy reading, leave your thoughts below if you want!

~ NETEYAM X AO'NUNG ~

Dream Hunt pt. 1

summary: Ao'nung has to face the tough choices of a future olo'eyktan, first of them: choosing a mate.

part 2

includes: angst, cuddling, aged up to 22, tatted ao'nung, crying, more crying, boys in love, mating, fluff

SFW

2.1k words

_____________________________

Tomorrow was Ao'nungs big day.

Ever since he was born his father had prepared him for this day and yet he felt so lonely. Something about all of it seemed wrong. He was restless, laying awake in his own marui.

Every other warrior that had gone this path before him had always been excited about it. They all celebrated, but Ao'nung did not feel like celebrating the slightest bit.

His heart ached only at the thought of the upcoming day. His parents were proud and delighted that their firstborn was finally ready. He had finished all his tests and he had successfully proven worthy in every single one. But still he couldn't possibly even smile at the thought of what he would face tomorrow.

He would be ready to step in as the next Olo'eyktan, leading his people, taking care of them. Was he scared of the responsibility? No, not at all. Was he scared of everyone looking at him? As if it was something new to him.

No, the reason for his worries lied elsewhere and he knew exactly where.

One of his hands rested behind bis head. His sister Tsireya had honored him in braiding his long, black hair. She made sure to give her everything while she had turned his messy curls into a beautiful half updo. Ao'nung looked just like his father now. A few hair strands sticked out around his forehead from his nervous hands fumbling around with his hair. He had to stop himself or Tsireyas hard work would be for nothing, so he let his hand rest on his stomach.

His new markings enhanced his aged up appearance. Half of his forehead was now covered in precise finer and thicker lines, perfect dots and swirls. They reached over his temples, down to his cheek and ended on his jaw. Rarely had he seen such perfect work when it came to markings. He liked them a lot, even if it felt like his entire face was burning. If he accidentally touched his freshly decorated face, he hissed in pain, regretting his own carelessness immediately.

He couldn't help but sigh as his aquamarine eyes fixated on the ceiling of his marui which was still rather empty compared to his former home. One might have guessed that this was the problem, that this was the reason he felt lonely, when it was rather the opposite. According to their traditions, his marui wouldn't be in this minimalistic state for a long time.

He was expected to share it with a mate. His mate.

The choice would be made right after his ceremony. During his entire life, his father Tonowari and his mother Ronal had introduced him to many beautiful young women, hoping he'd show interest in any of them. He didn't.

Not one of them were able to start the slightest fire inside of him. Not even a spark. Kireä was the first one he remembered. She had gorgeous hair, stunning big eyes and very skilled, quick hands which made her the best weaver in the clan. But none of that meant a thing to him. The second girl was Sat'xo. Apart from her soothing voice, her dancing was unmatched. Only few could take their eyes off of her when she did, but Ao'nung was the first to do so.

Many women tried to win his heart. They fetched him some iridescent shells, gifted him carefully knotted armbands, even carved daggers. They tried to befriend his sister to get closer to him, but he could not have cared less all his life.

Countless times his father had tried to talk some sense into him. Persuade him to choose, offered him to make the choice for him, but Ao'nung refused every single time. People joked about him not being able to make up his mind, that he couldn't choose one mate or even that he was too arrogant to find someone he deemed worthy.

Oh, how wrong they all where.

He had made his choice many years ago already. It had been seven years since he had made his decision. Seven long years. He had just turned 22, which meant he was 15 at that time, and the time had really just flown by.

Ao'nung tried to find peace in the sound of the ocean and the nightlife, closed his eyes and listened to the crashing and lapping waves, the humming and chirping insects, the wind in the trees while he steadied his breath. One deep inhale, a slow exhale. Over and over again.

His peace and quiet did not last too long. The creaking sound of the woven pathways caused his ears to twitch, so his eyes opened again as he guessed that someone was approached rather hasty.

He supported himself on the ground of his marui and raised himself halfway up. It didn't take long until his searching gaze landed on Neteyam, the oldest son of Jake Sully.

With hanging shoulders and a lowered head he charged into Ao'nungs marui, falling onto his knees before the metkayinan could say anything.

Without one word the golden-eyed man clutched himself against Ao'nungs chest, hiding his wet face in the crook if his neck and threw his hands around his torso as tight as he could. He sniffled against the other man's chest. Sniffles turned into sobs quickly, which ended up in desperate cries. Neteyam did not explain himself for now, but he also did not have to.

Just seeing Neteyam like this tore Ao'nungs heart into pieces. He tried to comfort the omaticaya with soothing touches. There were no words needed, yet Neteyam couldn't help but whimper "Please don't send me away tonight. Don't leave me alone, i beg you-"

Neteyam's own cries made it impossible to end his own sentence.

Ao'nung swallowed the big lump in his throat while he caressed the other boy continuingly, his hands gently traced over his back before the pressure and weight of his sobbing friend pushed him back into the mat.

"Stay for as long as you want. I'm not going to send you away, ma 'Teyam."

Neteyams hopeless cries got even louder as he heard how Ao'nung adressed him. He let it all out against his teal-skinned friend, knowing that he would have to make a choice tomorrow, and Neteyam wasn't possibly an option.

"I knew this day would come" he cried against Ao'nungs skin while digging his fingers into the flesh of the others waist. As if he would lose him any second, he threw one of his legs over Ao'nungs hip like a little child.

Younger Ao'nung would've made fun of him for his behavior, but by now, the future clan leader of the metkayina was smarter than that.

Neteyam continued to cry as if someone was ripping his heart out, pressing his head into the crook of his neck to muffle his own sounds, even if there was an enormous chance that others had heard him already.

Ao'nung didn't even try to stop him. If he could, he would take all of his pain away, but what was he supposed to do? He could only hold Neteyam.

"I knew it..." he repeated in between his cries, placing one hand around the other's shoulder, his nails scratched across his skin, but Ao'nung didn't mind one bit.

"we both knew this day would come, ma 'Teyam..." he mumbled into his ear before taking a deep breath to keep himself from crying as well, his blue eyes were already glossy.

"That's not what I meant..." Neteyam tried to calm himself in order to explain, just for a moment.

"To become one of our people, a true omaticaya, you have to go through a specific ritual. We call it the Dream Hunt."

He took a few sobbing breaths, inhaling deeply while his salty tears continued to roll down from his cheeks and onto Ao'nungs chest.

"Sometimes, we get blessed with a true vision, and so did I- I- I saw you before we even met. I saw us, together... I saw how you-" he hook another deep, quick breath before he could continue, "how we spend our first night together. How- how you kissed me and how you touched me and- and-" he couldn't even end his sentence before he continued to break out in tears.

"Mawey, ma 'Teyam, mawey..." Ao'nung kept stroking over his back and carefully embraced him tighter.

"I believe you, i really do."

Neteyam rubbed his head against him, biting down on his collarbone to hold onto him with every fiber of his body, as much as he could. He expected a 'but' after Ao'nungs sentence, but there was none. Only sweet, reassuring whispers into his tilted ears for what felt like an eternity.

A long time passed like this. A time in which Ao'nung contemplated. A time in which Ao'nung replayed every memory he shared with Neteyam until he eventually cried less, much more quiet, but his tears did not cease to fall all night long until dawn.

"Ma Teyam..." he whispered gently while stroking over his head, then his hand sunk into the long dark braids.

"Look at me, please."

For the first time in hours, Neteyam shifted his position to meet Ao'nungs light eyes. He was scared. Frightened to the bone. His entire body shivered, no matter how lovely Ao'nungs touches were.

Neteyam knew that Aonung couldn't choose him and yet he quietly begged him for his dear life that he would not not leave him alone.

"You know my father tried to make me meet other women, promise myself to them, until he gave up. He noticed how I look at you. How happy I am around you. Now, my mother is another story, but my father knows. I talked to him about it. He knows that there is only place for you in my heart. Only for you, ma 'Teyam. Only you."

The young man looked up to him, hope sparked in his puffy, golden eyes, even more as he saw Aonung smile softly.

"I believe you what you said about this dream hunt, and it only underlines what I've been thinking for a long time. We were made for each other."

Neteyam hiccuped at his words, snorting. His ears must be playing tricks on him, he was certain, until Ao'nung cupped both of his wet cheeks.

"I want you, Neteyam. Nobody else. And later I'm going to prove it to you."

"You cannot choose me, Ao'nung. I'm not an option. I'm not even a woman-"

Ao'nung didn't even let him finish before he sat up, positioning the other male on his lap. He reached out behind him while his other arm snaked around Neteyams waist again.

"I have chosen you a long time ago. I've pondered every single aspect, and yet, I couldn't possibly think of anyone else as my mate."

He brought his queue forward, right in front of his face, gesturing Neteyam to do the same, and he did.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" His voice was pretty rough and broken from all his crying, but Ao'nung only nodded and smiled.

"What if the clan doesn't accept this?" he asked before looking into his blue eyes again, but Ao'nung still smiled.

"Then you'll leave and go back to your roots. And I will come with you. Then you can teach me how to fly these ikrans."

Neteyam couldn't help but laugh at his words. There was no way he meant it, but Ao'nungs face said something else.

They both watched the glowing ends of their queues winding before Ao'nung asked him to close his eyes, and he did.

The next thing Neteyam felt was him. Only him. In his mind, on his body, his lips, his hands, his hair. They both gasped lightly, feeling the presence of each other different than ever before. There were no words for either of them to describe this incredible feeling. Ao'nung watched Neteyams reaction in awe, being completely overwhelmed himself. His heart raced and his thoughts run wild. Neteyam, all across his mind. He was everything and everywhere.

"Ma 'Teyam..." he whispered so full of emotions, before he leaned back again and pulled the other male with him to rest on top of him. He let go of his queue which was tightly intertwined with Neteyam's before his hand sunk back into his braids, caressing his head ever so gently.

"Ma Ao'nung..." Neteyam whispered back, all cuddled up against his partner. An innocent smile spread all across his face as he finally let go of all the tension and simply rested against Ao'nung in peace. He belonged to him now, forever and for all eternity.

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