Tumgik
#And did what was best for me and not x
wouldntbehim · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
mix: firstprince (taylor's version)
595 notes · View notes
xamaxenta · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
@itsthefandommash aaaangel im so sorry this took me so long i was suckerpunched by the depression this past weekend and i was struggling with literally everything and all basic tasks and its been exhausting and disheartening but i enjoyed the small serotonins in drawing marcoace 🥺❤️ thank you for commissioning me and forcing me to draw two characters together it was rough i definitely need more practice but this is a start
148 notes · View notes
samanthamulder · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
THE X-FILES (1993-2018)
SEASON FOUR — The truth will save you, Scully. I think it'll save both of us.
655 notes · View notes
hcdragonwrites · 8 months
Text
Good Memories
(a @semisolidmind Twice as Bad Au Fic)
Tumblr media
Ok I wrote another one. This one I focused more on Wukongs perspective ! A happier memory, a happier moment- even in this twisted and messed up bad ending. Because there has to be some sweet moments … right ?
Inspired by this ask!
The noise of the stone corridor was quiet. The silence was a peaceful breath of welcome here where Peaches hardly got a moment of true peace. The roar of the waterfall drowned much conversation here so the foot traffic of the mountains subjects was lessened. Except for the patrols of troops, the top ranking officials and guards, the eyes here were light.
A chance to escape had come. Of course escape wasn’t to leave the mountain. Peaches had learned that long ago. To attempt to get down the mountain- to get to the sea that kissed the beaches below- was foolhardy. She had tired once. Once in that far away time when the trauma of abduction has been fresh, when the desire to be anywhere but here drover her to staying awake at night and planning.
Now, years later, the escape was not to leave Flower Fruit Mountain. Though she desperately longed to do such a thing. Hope though was a hard bird to kill even when caged and clipped. So, to circumvent the need to escape- to release some of the pent up agitation- she had found another way to escape.
The patrol passed the alcove Peaches had huddled herself into without a look. She waited. One. Two. Three. Once they rounded the bend she made her move. Peaches snuck out of one of the many side entrances of Water Curtain Cave. She slunked from shadow to tree, avoiding the eyes as best she could. Once beyond the courtyard, beyond the orchards she felt her spirit take wing. It was the bubble of freedom that she had to take as medicine for the true longing she couldn’t - wouldn’t- ever feel.
Not as long as she had her husbands about.
Like a horse turned to pasture, Peaches kicked up her own heels and ran. She ran for the joy of it and for the enjoyment of it. She let herself believe that she was back in the village. That she was back in her home, beneath its peach trees and with its terribly creaking timbers. That this was only a jaunt out to the woods to enjoy the day foraging and finding morsels.
It was a delusion but it was like a balm to her soul. Too much time inside the mountain and among the talks of conquests and bloodshed dampened her. Her husbands never demanded that she attend councils between other Immortals or Demons but Peaches knew when she attended there was far less work for the servants to do. For one, there was less blood to be cleaned from the stone floors. Of course it would take some of her own energy to be apart of these conversations.
Peaches would dress in the courtly and lordly garments bestowed upon her by The Monkey King and The Six Eared Macaque. Gifts they called them. Blood gifts, Peaches knew. Dressing the part as Queen always put the two demonic monkeys into better moods. Of course, whenever she was present it also became a game of keeping.
This game all depended upon the placement of the two heads of Flower Fruit Mountain. They always were placed in strategic spots- to better intimidate or to better please whatever guest they were entertaining. If there was a demon of hungry standing there was always roasted meat and wine a plenty to drink upon. These times, Sun Wukong would be seated closest to the doors. If she entered the room he would catch her wrists, her hand, her waist. Those claws would grip and tug, and she would be in his lap. Wukong would keep her there. If the King was in the middle of a conversation he would simply stop and lavish compliments upon her. Wukong was more of a earnest love then his darker counterpart. She would be forced to stay in his lap, feeling his hands and the soft admonishments if she tried to move, as the conversation continued.
Peaches wished she could have said it was always unpleasant. In the years of captivity, in the moments of stuck between hope and despair, she had come to find a balance of some sort. After so long being molded and worn down by their attentions, Peaches had begun to tolerate the attention. Wukongs attentions helped establish her as something of importance and a person not to be touched. It helped when those demons had an inclination for human flesh.
Too many times she had been told not to touch the food, the meat, when it was presented on the council table.
If the sworn brothers were entertaining an immortal being with no bloodlust for humans the positioning was different. More lax in some ways but no less imposing. Sometimes Peaches would be able to actually sit in a seat beside or between the monkeys. Other times, Wukong would claim her to his lap and tug and tease at her, a game to turn her to blushing of what things he would whisper into her ear. And, in those moments when Wukong did not claim her it was Macaque who stole her into his seat. He was more touching, less outwardly loud praise. But still enough to burn her cheeks, to make her wish to dissolve.
Water Curtain Cave fell behind her as Peaches rushed forward into the woods and away from her husbands. Macaque was away, on some errand or other again. Wukong would be occupied until late into the evening. A conglomerate of would be allies wished to pledge themselves to the King today, and it would take much of her rowdy husbands time and energy to entertain. It would also boost his ego and, with no worry of bloodshed (unless someone was foolish enough to insult) Peaches had taken her leave.
She rarely got moments alone and she laughed, some of the tension sloughing off like snow in a spring melt.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sun Wukong rarely had patience with beings that held incompetence. He was seated in his spot in the council room, upon his golden gilded throne. The warlord was in full regalia, armour polished to a blinding sheen and staff set beside him. However all the splendour about Wukong couldn’t distract from the loathsome thing huddled at the foot of his dais, blubbering and sniffling like a slug.
The demonic monkey felt his teeth grind and clip in his mouth as the weakling worm of a dragon sniffled and bowed its head in a kowtow. Disgusting. This beast had come asking him to slay his brothers and sisters in the western sea so he could be appointed heir. Wukong raked his eyes over the diminutive fellow, taking stock.
Scales as thin as moonbeams. Teeth as square as a cows. Mane bedraggled and unclean. How filthy. This little worm couldn’t even clean himself before grovelling for my help.
A poor ally if he choose to anger dragons in an ocean a world away. Weak of claw and fang.
“It’s obvious you cannot even keep yourself fit let alone keep a kingdom if I gave it to you.”Wukong waved his hand, bored. “Leave my sight. Maybe once you’ve actually wet your muzzle and had a scrap or two I’ll consider. Get out.”
“But -“
Was this Dragon also weak of hearing? Was it slow of wit? He had dismissed the stupid beast. His eyes flashed.
“Get. Out.”
The thing moved now, scattering loose scales in its speed to escape. They fell like toenail clippings and Wukong hissed in disgust. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose and felt the patience in his body diminish. The king raised a bell and gave it a ring, summoning several servants - not monkeys these creatures were those foolish demons that had imposed themselves in the paths of Flower Fruit Mountains conquests- to clean up the mess of scales.
Wukong had a full itinerary for the day. He had already met with his southern vassals and those positioned in the East. They were reporting movement from a would be upstart exorcist, one that deemed himself a demon slayer. A blood hungry pup. If it was blood he craved then Wukong would deliver it to him. He had set Macaque to the East, tasking him with bringing the man to heel. He had given his brother free reign. If the six eared demon wanted, Wukong wouldn’t stop him from making the exorcist into a gift - of flesh. Maybe I should have sent this whining worm to the East. Macaque would have shown him the ropes of turning an enemy into a boon.
“Foolish idiots.” Wukong grumbled, irritated. The other appointments had been his people which he took gladly. His own residents of the mountain were precious to him. They only asked for the numbers to help in the forest grove harvest. It was apple harvesting time and some of the trees were showing signs of damage from the deer and other beasts. The other group had been some now turned immortals begging for teaching in the east of shape changing. Wukong had dispatched them with ease, tossing their heads to the sea. He would send their corpses off to the visiting Swallow Heart- an upstart creature with a good three hundred beastly birds- as a peace offering.
His mood would have been better if his Wife had attended his talks. Wukong had kept glancing to the side, looking to the opulent doors and hoping they would open. Or her scent would waft in from the corridor, announcing her approach. Wukong felt his mouth salivate a bit at the thought of her. Oh he was lucky. His little Peach. Wukong and Macaques of course. Not just his morsel. Though today… with Macaque away. ..
She was all his to adore and hold and to make squirm with his praises and his demands.
“Trouble my King?”
An attendant asked of him, waking him from his daydreams. The monkey was by his side, face curled in worry. Wukong let the thinly held patience fall away as he gave into rubbing his head. Too much courtly affairs. He usually didn’t mind the task. In fact, he enjoyed pitting his mind against that of the estate he ran, the duty he held. Wukong had an iron will for ruling. He enjoyed the fruits of that labour, the rewards of conquest. One of the best rewards was here in the caves, walking the halls all alone …
“Trouble that can be easily cast off.”
Thoughts of his Peaches, and the irritation of his last meeting, decided it for him. Wukong rose out of his throne and stretched. Though he was a monkey originally of stone it didn’t mean he didn’t get sore in his throne. Popping his back, Wukong motioned to the door. “Walk with me.”
“Yes my King.” The servant walked beside Wukong as he stalked down the Halls. His people dipped and bowed. The servants who had been brought to the mountain and had been forced to serve kept their eyes downcast. Wukong paid them no heed. He had one goal.
“Peaches!” Wukong sang through the palace. He looked in her usual haunts. She had a tendency to stick to habit and Wukong made it his goal to know all of his little sweets habits and places of hiding. The kitchens, the scroll rooms, the bedroom and other such places deep beneath the mountains stone.
“Peaches?” Wukong now questioned. Usually she was so near he could hear and track her just from knowledge of her habitual motions. But there was a lack of her today in Water Curtain Cave.
“Where has my wife gotten to?” He mused aloud. Wukong would have been more worried in the early days of her life on the mountain. Peaches had a tendency back then to plot and scheme and attempt every sort of trickery to escape the brothers. She had tried tricking (Macaque had been present for that one where he had kept her trapped in a riddle game for hours), sneaking (again a foolish thing due to the number of ears between her husbands numbered eight), drugging (Wukong had thought it cute to see her try and ply him with so much wine he became inebriated. That had led to … other things however.) and finally just running.
Running had led to chasing. Wukong had tried to terrorize her just a small bit to discourage the action. Having her run off while he was in the middle of meeting and for him to rise and say “Excuse me gentlemen” and then rush off had first been an inconvenience. He would never punish his Peaches. No, never. When he talked of the terror it had been more to scare her of what could snatch her up. Tigers, leopards, wolves and their ilk. Taking her back to their rooms and tucking her in and locking the door was the most he did. If he had time, if he could ignore the work of the day he would wear her out in other ways. It would either be both or one and the other who would keep her attention. Wukong was a King but he wasn’t a tyrant.
This didn’t deter his little wife. She seemed … more determined, however, to attempt it. Peaches had learned over the years that running away was useless but that didn’t stop her from taking to flights of fancy. Which lead to a different kind of chasing. A pursuit that called to the raging hunger inside him, to that predator. Peaches had given him and Macaque a new game- a game he craved almost as much as he craved her scent in his nose and her body in his arms.
After opening their closet and seeing the small little nest she kept in there empty as well, Wukong felt his tail give an excited lash. The fur on his spine began to rise up in anticipation. It practically shook through his blood. Made his mouth grin and his body begin to buzz as if drunk upon fruit wine.
“A game is afoot. A game all for myself~” Usually these games of hide and seek with their wife became a race between him and his sworn brother. Macaque would enjoy the competition as he had a unfair disadvantage. His keen hearing compounded on his shadow ability let him take a lead that Wukong wouldn’t be able to close normally. But with his brother away from the mountain… Wukong laughed to himself, beginning to shed his courtly attire.
“Do you require anything, my king?” The servant asked from his shoulder. Wukong passed the servant his crown and those few glittery vestments he bore to impress the lesser demons who came to grovel for his power.
“Clear the rest of my meetings for the evening.” Wukong commanded. Where could my sweet have gone off to? To the grove? The stream? Did she perchance head to the woods? The thought of the hunt was already consuming his mind.
“My King that would mean dismissing the Swallow Heart Demon and his Entourage.” The servant set the items delicately on Peaches armoire, being careful to not tip any of the bottles, brushes or powders there. Macaque had sent for that armoire for their Wife. It had cost a pretty penny to have it brought in with the paints and brushes.
It was a warm memory in Wukongs mind, seeing the pure delight in her eyes. That night had been filled with the boys teaching her how to use the more expensive bits of makeup and had led to her learning to paint war paint upon their faces. The warm memory set a second shiver up his spine. When he caught Peaches he wouldn’t let her go- he would let her know how much he cherished her. The happy memories of her face were becoming more numerous now. It set his tail to swaying like a cat who had caught a canary.
“They are birds yes? Tell them to find another place to roost for the evening.” Wukong stretched his legs one at a time. He waved one hand to the servant, trying to rush the discussion along. He had a wife to find.
“I will meet them in the morning when my mood returns to better and more … harmonious thoughts.” All he could see in his head was her. Her skin shining in the light, her hair in his hands so soft. The rush of feeling hit him low in the gut. Was it love ? Was it possessiveness ? Was it possession? He didn’t know but it had his heart thundering. To think a mortal women could bring such a change through him so rapidly…
“I will see it done sir.” The servant bowed.
“Good.” Wukong stretched his arms, pulled his back straight. He had removed all but the trousers he wore. The glory of Sun Wukong had been set aside. Armour wouldn’t slow him- he was the Sage that had rebelled against Heaven. Had almost won. Armour was little hinderance in his silence or his ability to move. It would however limit him to capturing his intended target. Peaches was soft, pliable and would not like a tackle from her husband if he was wrapped all in his battle regalia.
He bounced on his heels. The excited energy wanted to be unleashed, to be set free. Wukong left the servant in their rooms, swiftly walking to the entrance of Water Curtain Cave. His generals saw him and bowed, continuing their rounds. Smaller monkeys, the children of his people came and clambered for his attention. He smiled at them and turned them back to their mothers promising attention later.
The waterfall came into sight and Wukong grinned. Just like he had when he first had been crowned King, the monkey lord bent low a palm pressed to the floor and launched himself through the torrent of water. He was out on the other side in a spray of water. Once on the ground again he looked, listened, smelled.
Wukong was an expert tracker. He could read the signs of his mountainous home. He knew every blade of grass every bend of the leaf in the trees above. Wukong looked for the signs, the telltale notes his wife would leave so lovingly in nature for him to find. There ,beneath the shadow of a tree. Wukong moved swiftly and lightly, faster then the long spotted cats to the far west. The press of foot too large to be a monkey, to heavy to be a cat.
I got you~
Wukong followed her path, enjoying the exertion and the feel of the sun on his fur.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Peaches had found herself a nice little patch in the wood, a small trickle of a stream ran through a copse of tightly packed willows. It had a few gooseberry bushes in its shade and she plucked them eagerly.
She had brought her small bit of knitting, a book, and a change of clothing if she wanted to take a dip in the water. The gooseberry’s were a plus, having been ripened and their red flesh sweet. Peaches didn’t have a snack- running into the kitchens would have alerted the staff she was going out and she did not want a retinue of guards on her tail. It was nice and pleasant to be alone. Hearing the soft babble of the water over the stones, the wind sighing in the leaves. It was peaceful. She could fall asleep. In fact a nap didn’t sound bad—
Snap.
Her head snapped up, eyes widening. That had been too loud to be a simple little bird or just the sound of a branch falling from the wind. She felt her calm wash away in a rush of icy fear. Though Flower Fruit Mountain was possibly the safest place in the world, it did still have the occasional predator. Bear or tiger were the largest creatures to have been spotted on the mountain. Wukong and Macaque assured that the worst of those beasts kept to the lower plains of the mountain.
But what if— what if I went too low?
Her ears strained, her eyes blown wide to see. Nothing revealed itself from the emerald green foliage or the berry bushes. Her hair stood on end as something shuffled in the undergrowth. Behind her. Peaches spun, holding a knitting needle out—
To air.
Another brushing sound, like that of claws across wood. Peaches took a step back, away from the sound. Her heart was in her throat and all the peace of the day was gone in the rush of animal instinct that screamed in her mind.
Freeze of Fly?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sun Wukong followed her trail easily to the copse of trees. His Peaches had much to learn if she wished to our pace him in his tracking ability. The path she took was such a massive trail he could see it from miles away. The demonic monkey crouched low, keeping close to the earth.
She was sitting next to the little stream at the foot of a great willow. His Peaches. Her fingers were red with gooseberry juice, her hair down in the heat. She was the picture of peaceful, the very image of serenity. Wukong felt a desire to grab her to hold her close, to take the juice of the berries off her fingers and hear her laughter and voice.
Gods he craved her.
He held off leaping, held off and observed. Magic would make it easier to drop in on her but he liked the challenge of keeping his current shape. So Wukong lay low, watching. The brothers had a practice of watching their Peaches when she thought she was alone. It was in those moments they learned the most about their mortal heart. How she would sigh, how she always got itchy if she wore too much of the powder upon her face. It was how Wukong learned Peaches preferred bangles over rings. How Macaque gleaned that her favourite foods involved a doughy treat called cinnamon rolls. Little things. Silly things. Treasured things that the brothers would go over and strategize on how to make their precious fruit the most comfortable. To win her favour. Her love. Her attention.
Sometimes she would cry in these moments and the game would have to be put on hold as they made themselves known beyond her field of vision. Wukong hated when she was upset. He knew, somewhere in his twisted heart, that he had caused these tears. That he was to blame for the sorrow that weighed heavy on her.
I can make her happy. No one else saw her sparkle like we did. She’s ours. Forever if I have my way.
But right now he had a game he was in the middle of. The immortal peach he was keeping for her would have to wait. Wukong stalked forward, through the brush. Peaches had laid herself back, body flat to earth and completely relaxed.
Wukong took a branch in his hands and snapped it.
His Peaches lifted herself up and whipped her head in the direction. Wukong had already moved, speed on his side as he circled beyond and behind her. The terror on her face made something stir in him, a protective urge. He would sooth her worry when he caught her. He would pet her hair, hold her close and tell her how foolish she was to leave his safe embrace. She had nothing to fear from him. Only his little sweet fruit didn’t know it was him. Not yet at least.
Wukong let his tail tussle the dead leaves beside him then darted off. He raked his claws over a bit of bark and then zagged back to a new hiding spot. Peaches turned like a doe, alert and eyes wide. Her face was full of fear, full of such open prey-like terror that Wukong couldn’t resist anymore. He rumbled, mimicking the sound of a big cat. Sweet Peaches stared right at the spot he was hiding.
Run little wife, he urged. Come on. Run for me.
At his second snarl, she obliged him. She spun her back to him and took several vain attempts to run. Wukong smirked. And leapt.
He caught her in several bounds barreling full into her body and taking her off her feet. His hand had her by the back of the neck, the other about her middle. They rolled in the air but Wukong angled himself, curling her into him and taking most of the fall. Peaches cry rang in the trees and sent the birds flying. Wukongs laughter was loud and shook through his body as he landed with her. The demon caged her in, setting her hips between his legs so he straddled her. One hand had both her wrists held above her head. The other angled her face to him, the eyes firmly shut.
“Caught you~” He purred.
“WUKONG!” Peaches gasped, opening her eyes to stare right into his face. Wukong felt his heart give a squeeze as the fear melted into ease. Ease with him. It sent a trill of joy up his spine. “You gave me a heart attack. I thought you were some tiger.”
“No love.” Wukong mentally took note of her. No scrapes from their tumble, no bruises. A perfect capture. “A tiger wouldn’t have toyed with you like I did.” Here he stretched his free hand, claws on display.
Peaches laughed. A laugh for him. His tail was swaying, his face inching closer to hers. “I’m glad I’m not getting devoured then.” She said, breath still catching up with her shock.
“Oh my Peaches, I may not be a tiger but I’m going to devour you all the same~” he let the words sink into her, enjoying the blush that coloured her face before he bent down and kissed her. She tasted of gooseberries, of laughter and the earth and ever of peaches. Her lips were soft against his. Wukong moved away from her mouth, wanting to taste her throat, her cheeks, her nose. Kisses he planted along her most ticklish spot on her neck, eliciting giggles and cries of mercy.
The Monkey King felt like he was drinking wine, head getting lighter and lighter while his body relaxed over hers. Only with Peaches had he felt so at peace, so blissful. It’s why he could never let her go. To rob himself of this? Never. She was his and he was hers and that was it.
Peaches pressed a kiss to his nose and he swooped back down to capture her lips. How could someone so soft and small consume me so? He felt starved. He felt parched. Here Peaches was, a bountiful feast and and overflowing cup. He couldn’t get enough of her.
Wukong nipped her neck, tugging her into his teeth to elicit a squeal. She laughed and tried to worm her way out of his grip. “Wukong please! Let me up, let me up!”
“Only when you tell me how well I caught you. Lavish praises on me.” He grumbled. He didn’t want to let her out of his arms. If he could he would keep her here and live in this bubble of joy forever. Peaches blew hair out of her face.
“You’ve got to be kidding me…”
“I assure you I’m not. So tell me.”
“Wukong your pride is insufferable.”
“And your beauty is unconquerable.” He countered and was rewarded with a scarlet Peach. “Now tell me.”
“Ugh. You caught me. You startled me so badly I thought I had gone too low on the mountain.” That had Wukong grinning wide as he now rolled over taking her onto his chest.
“Go on~”
A snort. Peaches was open in only the brief times when his and Macaques earnest attentions had worn down her barriers and aversions to nothing. Here was his adoring and adorable wife. One he wanted to bring treasures and conquer worlds for. I would burn this whole place to the ground to please you.
They spent a time there, the two of them in that grove of trees. Wukong kissed the gooseberry juice from her fingers and Peaches tried to see the good in this moment. Wukong was, a murderer. He was a monster who had taken her from her village. He had killed the villagers. Laying on his arm, feeling his voice and laughter in her body, seeing the tender way he held and touched her…
His love was hard to deny. To match up to the truth she knew so well. He was a murder. The soft glow as his eyes alighted when a butterfly landed on his hand. Wukong would kill again. He set the butterfly on her hand and they both marveled at the changing colors.
Peaches felt a bit more of her resolve break. Wukong and Macaques love was an ocean slamming into her. It was eroding the coastal cliffs she had within her. It had been a constant, driving force these years. She didn’t … she couldn’t remain so indifferent in the wake of such attention. Of such open love. She would never fully be at peace here. However … she was finding a balance.
Maybe that was the closest she would be to the love she originally had showered them both in. Or maybe she would fall head first into that roaring surface and loose herself in their love.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Wukong tugged the brush through Peaches hair, listening to her sing softly in the night air of their bedroom.
Suddenly- the ground became black and Peaches squealed as she disappeared into the earth—
—and popped up in Macaques arms.
“Save some of her for me, Wukong.” Macaque drawled, hands wrapped around her middle in a possessive gesture. They were back in their room, the night air wafting cool tonight. Wukong and Peaches had spent the rest of the day in that copse of trees and upon the mountain. They had walked hand in hand, visited the monkeys and the new babies that had been born to the family’s farthest from the caves.
It had been a day of sweet gestures and, whenever Peaches had turned eyes inward or far off, he had pressed her with tender affection. Drawing her back to the present. If Wukong had learned anything over the decade it was to keep his Peaches in the present, to keep her away from the drifting worry of the past.
They had returned home only when the first stars had begun to spark in the dark sky. Wukong had carried his tired wife all the way back to Water Curtain Cave. He whispered how he would make a necklace of the stars and give them to her and teased out of her sleepy laughs.
Maybe tomorrow will be full of hardships. Maybe she will hate me for what I did. This though- I would kill a thousand villages if I could get a single day of joy like this.
Macaque had returned shortly after dinner, coming into their room to Wukong holding Peaches in his arms and biting more of her neck between brushes. Of course Mac had wanted a bit of her to himself after being gone for a day. Wukong obliged, not bothered one bit.
His brother in arms was still dressed in armour meaning he had probably just arrived back from the East. Not a speck of blood was on his clothing. Wukong would ask him later about how the trip went, when Peaches was asleep. This moment was meant to be a memory of joy. He would not drag kingly duties into this moment.
“I caught her fair and square.” Wukong sniffed, growing a bit jealous at Macaque. He had stolen his prize from beneath his nose- right when he was getting to Peaches too, in her sleepy state. Macaque blinked then stared between the two, his purple eyes flashing.
“You played the game without me?” Wukong heard the bit of hurt and, though he was sure part of it was drummed up for sympathy, felt a bit of guilt. Only a splinter of it. He didn’t regret acting on his own. The game was his to play when he was away. However it had the desired effect on their Wife.
“Oh Mac- no I didn’t know Wukong would be coming after me.” Peaches was so easily guilt tripped. She kissed the darker demons cheek. The sudden flash of confusion and delight passed over Macaque features. His eyes stole towards Wukong, questioning.
Is she happy? Is she giving without teasing? Wukong nodded, the smile on his face like the soft warm dawn. Peaches was happy and that’s all that mattered. She was happy and would give to them.
“He did have a full schedule of meetings.” She bemused. “What.. happened to them?”
“I cleared my evening.”
“Of course you did.” Macaque snorted, half heartedly irritated. His fingers were already brushing through Peaches hair, grooming.
“Nothing was getting done beyond my latest meeting.” At the raised eyebrow of his six eared brother, Wukong waved a hand. “I’ll tell you later but for now- why don’t we have another game of tag.”
“A-another one?” Peaches sat up a bit, looking outside to the dark and moonlight beyond.
“Well you owe Macaque a chance to catch you. And I want to compete again. We will give you … thirty minutes.” Wukong grinned. “No going outside. Just find one of your hidey holes in the Palace, Love.”
“What if I’m too tired for this game?” She pouted and Wukong smirked. Seeing her pout brought the urge to tug her close and erase that pout from her lips all the stronger. He had been hoping she would say it. It’s why he had one of his chefs cooking a very special sweet treat.
“If you play you’ll get a reward~” Wukong crooned.
“That sounds ominous.”
“It’s innocent. I have some delicious sweets being made as a treat. Just a few short rounds and all of them can be yours.”
“Are they …. Cinnamon rolls?”
The Monkey King felt like he had caught her all over again. “Yes”
“… two games. Then no more. I’m tired..”
Macaque kissed her temple and set her free. “Go on darling. When I find you first I will tell you of the sights I saw.”
“You have to get to her first brother.” Wukong challenged. When he got to Peaches he would make her laugh again, demand kisses and more.
“And I will!” The six eared demon grinned eyes flashing. Peaches stood a bit uncertainly until Macaque leaned forward and gave a kiss to her temple.
“Go Peaches. And don’t stop running till you are in one or both of our arms.”
Peaches ran.
357 notes · View notes
nyxronomicon · 24 days
Note
But Endeavor, whose only been a perfunctory fucker now eating pussy, your pussy, for the first time and he just does the messiest job of it. Just down there exploring every fold with his fat fingers- hearts in his eyes and juice in his chin
ANON... 🥴🥴🥴 please you are so right all he knows is breeding... (RIP don't look at me) he's gotta learn how to eat someone out sometime...
Endeavor x gn!reader (w vagina) cw: messy messy oral, fingering (thick fingers...), rough, overstim, reader squirts pet names: baby
.
"Higher- ah!" Your sharp moan told him that he found the right spot, his tongue flicking your clit. He was clumsy and awkward, like he didn't quite know how to move his mouth now that he'd found your sweet spot. Your fingers slid into his hair as his lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves.
You briefly looked at him, seeing his piercing blue eyes gazing back at you. There was a dusting of pink on his cheeks, uncertainty seeping onto his features. You wanted to tell him how adorable it was, how much you were in love with this version of Enji Todoroki. But you knew better, he wouldn't take that compliment well. He'd get hyper masculine, pin you down before getting rough and pounding his heavy cock into you.
He tried to pull away out of insecurity, but you tugged his hair with just enough force to keep him between your thighs. "Want you right here." You held him in place, seeing his eyes widen slightly and the flush of his cheeks become a deeper red.
The bashful expression lasted less than a moment, his eyes flickering closed as he sucked your clit. When he opened them again, they were full of determination. Enji suddenly pulled your hips closer to the edge of the bed to get a better angle. You felt his thick fingers dance between your folds, throwing your head back as he teased you.
"Enji," you moaned his name, arching your back as a finger pushed into you. Your cunt practically sucked him in, and he groaned as he imagined his throbbing cock getting the same treatment.
There was a glisten of sweat clinging to your skin. Your fingernails dug into his scalp as he sucked your clit hard, flicking at the bud with his tongue as his finger searched your pussy for your g-spot. A second finger pushed into you, your core throbbing for more. You threw your head back, losing control of your body as you could feel pleasure creeping up your spine.
You were so fucking sexy. He needed to taste your cum on his lips. It was all he could think as his fingers pressed your g-spot, instantly pulling lewd sounds from your lips. He smirked, his tongue now only lightly swirling around your clit as he focused on finger-fucking you. You were close, he could tell from the way you tightened around him.
"That's it, baby." He growled into your pussy, "cum for me." With another rough suck on your bundle of nerves, he prodded your g-spot relentlessly. His blue eyes were trained on you, watching every minute change as your breath hitched.
Your cunt tipped over the edge with ecstasy, Enji holding you in place as he continued his ministrations. It quickly spread through your whole body, thighs twitching as you felt yourself getting oversensitive. You mumbled his name, writhing in his grip as you rode out the orgasm.
"Just a lil' more..." He continued, "c'mon baby," his motions intensified, sensitivity instantly sending a more intense wave of pleasure through you. You could feel yourself squirt into his mouth, almost embarrassing had he not immediately started licking the essence from your folds.
He cleaned you out like a starved man, slowly and gently letting you come down from your high. He continued to watch you with adoration in his gaze, his cock throbbing with desire. When he finally pulled away from your cunt, you saw his smirk drenched in your juices.
"How was that?" He spoke quietly, but with confidence. Your expression and the fact that you were still catching your breath told him the answer.
"Not bad for a first timer." You chuckled through heavy breaths.
"Oh?" He climbed on top of you with a grin, pinning your arms above your head. "How 'bout I show you my expertise?"
.
@rottiens if I have to brainrot about this man you do too
72 notes · View notes
houndfaker · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
atlus can crush my dreams but they cant crush my whimsy and joy
91 notes · View notes
captainsavre · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Marina: Season 7 Countdown
88 notes · View notes
ne-cocoa · 1 year
Note
Heya there! How is goin?? Sooo I've seen that MK likes to give tickly kisses to Red Son and I wonder, does Macaque or Wukong do the same? Can we see some drawing of that moment between them? Thanks a lot!! ♥️♥️
I’m doing great!! Thank you for asking luv 🥰💖 ♡´・ᴗ・`♡ absolutely! Idk which pair is cornier in their romance 😭💖 most certainly Macaque XD
Tumblr media
407 notes · View notes
Text
Bucky Barnes | One Shot | Ready to Comply
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Villain!Reader
Plot: Something had been missing. But that has nothing to do with your life time enemy standing in front of you to finally end this.
Warnings: 18+. Smut, light angst and violence.
Words: 4,4OO
Tumblr media
He remembers telling Steve and Sam about them – “Their most elite death squad. They speak thirty languages. Can hide in plain sight. Infiltrate, assassinate, destabilise. They can take a whole country down in one night. You’d never see them coming.”
…and you used to be one of them.
Bucky takes another look around the massive room, wincing when he sees all of his colleagues passed out around the space. It happened way too fast. How is he the only one still standing? They walked in here so confident, so prepared. He had done so much research on you. He knew everything.
His mind is running a million miles an hour to try and process how you are still so calm after single-handedly taking out his entire team. So skilled, so graceful. Only one strand of hair had come loose to hang over your eyes.
It’s just you and him now. Again. Exactly how you ended up last time. And the time before that, long before he had a team to stand with him. You’re the only one who has had nearly all versions of James Buchanan Barnes as your opponent. Why the fight has never been settled before, neither you nor Bucky know …or let yourselves admit.
It is a thing of Bucky’s nightmares. The same one, over and over and over again. You are always in it and always have the winning hand. Never has he been able to figure out how to make the odds turn in his favour. This conniving, effortless and mean – mean – woman. This picture of a villain that heats his blood to a boiling point and makes his skin tighten with frustration. He’s had the dreams for years. For years, the image of you haunted him.
Though if he had to be honest, despite the endless losing battle, seeing you in his dreams was a welcome relief. You became a confusing token for him during these years of recovery. A constant – an image of beauty almost. Now here you are, again.
Bucky turns to you, his piercing eyes connecting with yours as you raise your brows in curiosity.
“Am I supposed to be scared of you?” he scoffs and you admire the way he sounds so cool. Like you haven’t just proven how easily you could beat him. Not that you’d make it quick or easy – not with him. What would be the fun in that?
You have spent years perfecting an attack on this man, knowing he’d return to you time and time again. Like fate wanted him in your claws. Your little plaything. All you can see is a challenge. For you, yes, but mostly for him. To break him, tear him to shreds. Perhaps, if the fates allow, for him to change his alliance. For him to finally embrace that inner darkness, find harmony and purpose with that Winter Soldier monster in his body.
A challenge indeed…
“Scared of me?” you drawl with an indifferent shrug of your shoulder, “No.” You never intended to scare him – of course, not until the next words fall from your lips. “I think you and I both know perfectly well there’s only one thing you in particular should be scared of,” you start, “a part of you that can hurt you beyond torture.” You can tell he has caught on when you see his jaw tick and his eyes harden. Your footsteps are slow and long as you approach the metal-armed soldier in the middle of the large hall of the worn castle you decided to reside in. “And don’t be mistaken, I don’t need ten pretty, Russian words to turn that side against you.” Silence before your final blow, “Your trauma will work just fine.”
That seems to be the trigger as he lunges forward, raising his hands and turning them to claws before you take a few steps back and halt him with a simple palm in the air.
“ –Careful,” you warn with deadly calm. “Every time you show people that short fuse of yours, you make it so easy for someone to grab onto it and light it on fire.” Short puffs of air leave his flaring nostrils and you purse your lips to repress the sadistic smile spreading over it. Until you realise you don’t care, letting the corners of your mouth tug upwards.
“Look at you,” you mock, “still depending on the control exercised on you for years. You have no idea how to take the reins yourself.”
“You don’t think I can exercise control?” The question is his way to take back his power, having had quite enough of you pressing where it hurts. His voice is clear, sharp, the gravel in it completely gone.
Bucky’s face, to your disappointment and his credit, remains stoic and you have no idea how lucky you are he has learned to restrain himself even just slightly, because you don’t know how dangerous Bucky becomes when he is genuinely pissed. Sure, he’s grumpy and harsh all the time and you’ve seen him channel Hydra’s fury, but hardly ever does his own rage come out to play.
“A smart and well-trained assassin doesn’t dive at his target like that. Any chance you’re still as good as the Winter Soldier without Hydra telling you what to do?” A small part inside you is warning you to back off, to not test the dangerous man any further. Just because you know exactly how to push the Bucky Barnes past his limit, doesn’t mean you should.
“The Winter Soldier was created to kill. I can do much more damage.”
“To yourself?” You nearly snort.
Bucky grits his teeth harder. Shut up, shut up, shut up.
“Let me ask you an important question,” he starts, his voice awfully cool and steady, “what on Earth makes you think I need to control myself when I can so easily control you instead?”
And now you know where that voice, the confidence, comes from. You clench your jaw tightly when the heel of your right foot dips down in the open grove between the floor and the heightened platform. A grove that has crumbled down into the depths of the ancient building, where you know the dungeons are. So far down with so much debris at the bottom, one wrong step and the fall would instantly kill you. Even as you are – a super soldier just like Bucky, yet chosen different paths – you won’t survive that fall and Bucky knows it.
You should have known not to pick this location to hide in – shouldn’t have picked the ruin you passed in the way through the mountains. Bucky guided your arrogant self straight into a trap what he assumed is of your own making. The bastard was always manipulative enough to get people to fall into the grave they dug themselves. So pretty, so skilled and somehow… so, so clever.
Sure, you can be impulsive at times, but it isn’t like Bucky is giving you any other choice than to whip out the nearest blade and charge at him. Smirk on his face, Bucky settles into fighting mode and opens his stance to welcome you in. Not giving him any time to realise that he had you fair and square, you summon decades of training into your limbs. Your head goes quiet, eerily still, as muscle memory takes over and your feet and elbows and hands crack into every open spot that Bucky has.
Quakes of pain hit you at every defence he puts up, but you soothe it over with your next blow. Hit after kick after punch, you work Bucky back into the main hall, away from your previous battlefield and trying not to lose all that space you fought for.
Hesitate and you die. Hesitate and you die. The mantra keeps repeating in your empty head and you scream and grunt and yell with every powerful thrust of your fists, only for all of it to be blocked by Bucky. There is more than anger coming to the surface. This rage – this ancient rage at yourself, at the world, at Hydra–
Bucky doesn’t get any time to retaliate, but you know better than to think you can exhaust him with fighting techniques he has memorised himself. So you switch to the sharp end of the blade and you twist and turn it within your hand as you jab and stab for the soft bits of skin on his body.
Your bones shudder when the knife jams between the plates of his arm and Bucky’s hand flies to take the knife during the abrupt pause your body found itself in. But you’re nearly as strong as he is and definitely faster, so you twist the knife with Bucky’s own power to angle against his chest and jam it there.
The blade tugs at the fabric of his shirt and Bucky’s eyes harden as they fall on yours. You narrow your own eyes at him and grit your teeth as you put pressure behind the stabbing instrument. Your gaze lowers to your hands.
His hand is wrapped around yours almost in a gentle way, the length of his fingers curling around your fist which is clutched around the handle of the blade. The touch makes you shiver and you focus all your attention on staying rigid and exercising enough power to remain in your current position. Both your breaths are shallow and the stare you’re exchanging is so sharp, you’re sure you can see a bolt of electricity shoot from your irises to his.
Slowly dragging your hand down half an inch, he wraps his other hand around yours as well, two of his hands now securing the blade against his own chest. You try not to let it show how much his actions confuse you, apprehension burning in your stomach. His flesh hand is warm, radiating heat from his skin to yours, callouses scraping slightly.
“Right here. Through the ribs and into my heart.” His voice is soft and calm, coaxing a paradoxical reaction from you. It makes you want to prove to him he has no reason to be this calm, but his tone calms you down all the same. He trusts you enough to hold a blade to his chest, yet has no faith in you to drive it through his ribs.
Always these games…
Bucky hisses through his teeth, "Kill me then. I fucking dare you." Though his tone is just as calm and quiet as before, private almost, there’s an impatience to his voice. Like he wants you to put him out of his misery.
“Got something to run from?” you purr with a sympathetic head tilt, eyes still narrowed in on his. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip.
“On the contrary. I have all the time in the world,” he whispers and you notice his head moving closer just an inch, his scent making your eyes flutter. He didn’t seem like the type to smell exceptionally good – but boy, were you wrong.
“Should I make it a slow death then?” you taunt and he smirks.
“Whatever makes you feel the most power.” Damn him. He knows those words strip the power away from you in an instant. He knows it and he knows you know it, too. “But that leaves you with none, doesn’t it?”
You hold your breath to keep your defeat from slipping out with it. Eyes on the blade in your hands with a look as sharp as the dagger itself, you tighten your fists around the handle.
And all of a sudden it dawns on you. Fear. Gut-wrenching, horrifying fear. Not of Bucky. But losing him. The consequences of allowing yourself to plunge that knife into his body. It’s ridiculous, really. You barely know him. Yet–
Yet he is the only one like you. The only one with emotions and personality traits abnormally heightened like your own, with that goddamn serum tainting his DNA. The only other person in constant war within themself - war between good and evil. Good won in him. Evil won in you. Because the world is so awful, so endlessly painful. And Bucky knows that – has been a victim of that awful nature. Yet good won.
He’s good.
And you want to jam a knife between his ribs.
So you do the one thing you promised yourself you wouldn’t do if you were ever in this position, because it would make you lose your resolve: you look up into his eyes.
Grey-blue.
You remember, from all those times staring him down and trying not to think of their colour. That beautiful, innocent colour that you knew he could flatten with just a look, a drop of his brow. All brightness and light gone and eyes empty. But it is there now. You don’t get where the light comes from that shimmers in his eyes. It’s a dark room.
“Why are you hesitating?” he asks, his voice merely a whisper. You never heard him sound like this before.
“I’m not.”
“I could have killed you five times over by now,” he reminds you, his hands twisting around yours, showing you just how easily he could redirect the knife’s target.
“You won’t.”
“I won’t?”
“You won’t,” you breathe.
A pause.
“I won’t,” he breathes back, his eyes dropping down. You swallow and the room seems to shrink, so much so, you hear your heartbeat echoing around you.
You don’t get to release the air lodged into your throat as Bucky lunges again, this time to cover your lips with his own. You hadn’t realised that your grip on the knife was completely depending on Bucky’s hands, until the weapon clatters to the floor the second his hands grab your face to drag it up to his.
You want to enjoy the feeling of his lips, but the rush you feel and your ramming pulse make you feel impossibly dizzy. His tongue taking advantage of the gasp you let out makes you dizzier, and you let out a whine. He groans back, walking you backward in an attempt to get closer to you. This large, solid man pushing and pushing and pushing as he strips all your bodily control from you with his bruising kiss.
You think you’re kissing him back, you aren’t sure, but every step he takes forward, you flee back. Step after step, you refuse to close the distance, his mouth so wild and feral against yours. Until you gasp again, your back hitting a crumbling pillar and Bucky crushes his entire frame against yours, his nails digging into your scalp as the kiss deepens.
Then it hits you. And it overwhelms you now. Your hands clawing at his chest, his shoulders, his neck – closer, closer, closer. God, he tastes like fire and stone and that ancient fight. You moan desperately and he grinds his hips into yours, making your knees nearly buckle over from the pleasure it ignites between your thighs. You need more of that, of his arousal against your own.
Vaguely, in the back of your mind, you realise that this was your fight all along. This was the very thing you needed to settle. A compatibility no one can match. And you want to tell him that, mock him for it when his lips leave yours, but they attach themselves to that spot below your ear and your eyes roll to the back of your head with a low moan.
This man…
“Who would have known,” he murmurs against your skin, accentuating his words with the scrape of his teeth, barely making you able to register them, “those moans might be the thing that actually kills me.”
You almost want to laugh, but he’s right. If your moans kill him, his mouth will kill you. Your heart is beating so loud, so hard, the organ might give out entirely. Your fingers hurt from clutching onto him and you can’t feel your legs. All he’s done is kiss your neck. His grip on you is so tight, so full of frustration and passion–
“Bucky,” you rasp and he freezes.
His forehead drops to your shoulder. “You’ve never said my name before,” he grinds out, his voice rough. “Do it again.”
“Bucky.”
“Again.”
“Bucky.”
His head lifts from your shoulder, his hands still holding your face and his eyes connecting with yours. “I am not going to stop until you have no voice left to say it with.”
He isn’t asking for permission. Not at all. This was a warning – for you to prepare, to finally settle this. You cling to that last piece, that last little shred of dignity and defiance.
“Who says we won’t leave this battle unfinished like all the other ones?” you ask, albeit breathlessly, clinging to that mechanism that keeps him away and angry.
Bucky narrows his eyes, dragging them over each of your features in a slow, deliberate swoop. You feel like your skin might peel off if he looks at you any longer. He can see it, can see the facade. The grip on your face is tight and you try not to swallow away the dryness in your throat.
Then he smiles.
“Nice try,” he nearly whispers, “but now that we’re here, I’m not planning on any unfinished business with you.”
This time you do swallow, eyes fluttering as you look up at him. You try to snap your walls back up, push him away, but your body isn’t listening. It’s whining for him, crying out for that spark. That final puzzle piece. The one man that can handle you. The only one that is still standing there in the end.
You feel it shift– your alliance.
“Shut up,” you snap and crash your mouth to his, fingers clutching to his shirt.
He laughs against your lips and his hands slide around your waist now, dragging you closer and conveniently dragging you up so one of his thighs slots between yours. The touch of his firm muscle against your throbbing core makes your knees tremble and you would melt to the floor if it wasn’t for Bucky’s hold on you.
The shuddering breath you let out has Bucky knowing enough. He never saw this coming, never even considered this. But he felt the shift – he was sure it was your scent that made his body betray him. Somewhere, his mind was screaming at him to not be stupid and drag that fucking knife away from his heart. Yet his intuition, trained for decades and somehow sharper than ever today, had muffled that scared voice and told him to trust his gut. She isn’t going to do it. And it was right. Just like he wouldn’t have done it.
And now – this powerful, deadly, untouchable woman is in his arms. So pliant, so desperate, so needy. He couldn’t feel more powerful himself. Not a serum in the world, not a stronger metal for his arm could grant him the feeling of power he has now. With you on his side, he is unstoppable. You can make him do anything.
He has something else in mind, however. He wants to show you exactly what anything entails, how much he is actually willing to do for you. And the strangled moan against his hungry mouth when he drags your hips over his thigh again, settles it for him. There is nothing like the pride and hunger that rushes through his veins when he hears that noise.
Maybe one thing. When you say his name.
“Bucky.”
Fuck.
Digging his fingers into your body so hard he’s sure he is leaving temporary bruises –Good, you’re his now– he lets out an animalistic growl and gives a hard thrust against you. Your body moulds perfectly between him and the pillar. The answering grind of your hips against him, brushing his cock so nicely, has his heart coming to a stop. The kiss turns messy, tongues and teeth and bruised lips, he doesn’t know what to do with that endless, dreadful need. Both your breaths are uncontrolled and low noises of need slip from both of you. He doesn’t know where his body ends and yours begins, so entangled with each other as he mindlessly grinds you further into the crumbling stone.
“I swear to God, if you don’t take off your clothes soon,” your growl surprises him and he lets out a low laugh at the desperate command. The only reason he doesn’t mock you for it, is because he agrees. Why are his clothes still on?
Quickly setting you down, he starts making work of his clothes, both of you ripping at yourselves to get rid of that last barrier. But Bucky gets distracted and helps you undress instead. And when you’re left in just your underwear and a lose hanging shirt that sags over your shoulders, all Bucky has managed is to shed his weapons and to unbuckle his belt. Earning an unimpressed glare from you at the lack of nudity, Bucky lets out a growl in answer.
“I’ll fuck you slowly later,” he grunts and is on you again.
You want to protest, you really do, but the words escape you the second his lips connect with yours again. Oh, this man is trouble. Softer and languid this time, his mouth drags over yours, tongue taunting and tasting. You slacken against him, your fingers around his forearms to keep from slipping to the ground. Trouble, trouble, trouble.
In such a daze, such a trance from that sinful mouth, you hardly notice his hands slipping between your thighs after his leg pushes them apart. That first touch, so deliberate, so specific, of his fingers to your aching pussy, has you visibly shudder against him, nails digging into his skin.
“I was wrong,” he breathes over your lips. His fingers slip past the flimsy fabric of your panties and a long finger slips through your folds, dipping into your hole tentatively before teasing you further. “This is going to be the thing that kills me.”
And with that painful confession, his finger slips into your dripping hole so easily, so smoothly, so goddamn deep, you lift to your toes and stretch to make it bearable.
It’s unbearable, the pleasure that sparks all throughout your body. You need him to move, need him to– to–
“More,” you plead, unable to open your eyes back up, “more, more, more.”
You can almost hear his cocky grin as he slips another finger in and curls it against a spot deep inside of you. It releases a moan so sudden, you couldn’t have stopped it if you tried, your eyes flying open. Bucky’s brows shoot up with intrigue, pressing his fingertips against that spot again and almost making you curl up into a ball against him. Fuck. He’s going to kill you.
“Shh, sweetheart,” he breathes, his forehead falling to yours after watching that look of defeat on your face, “I got you.”
Thoughts having left your head, you can only nod breathlessly, tilting your head back against the stone as his fingers start working inside of you. The involuntary convulsions of your cunt around his fingers make your neck and cheeks warm, the loss of control making you feel beyond vulnerable. But God, you can’t find it in you to care too much. The way he stuffs you full, the way his mouth works messily against the column of your neck, the heavy breaths that come from him from just pleasing you – it all builds up in your abdomen. Tightening, fluttering, aching. Your toes curl as his fingers move faster, the friction against your entrance so filthy in combination with the sound of your wetness.
Bucky groans, impatience straining through his cock as he wants to feel you around his fingers. He can feel you flutter, he can hear your breathing getting impossibly laboured and he should, he really should, want to drag this out more. But there is this wild, primal part of him that wants to get you to your next orgasm already, and your next, and the one after that.
He sighs deeply, channelling all of his restraint to keep calm and savour this moment. This moment of weakness for you. Weakness within him. Fuck, you’re his weakness. His fingers keep moving into that spot that seems to make you stutter and stumble, his wrist turning to make you feel that stretch, his tongue darting out to touch that spot under your ear. And then, he presses his palm to your clit, thrumming with need, and the shudder that rumbles down your spine has him stand on alert instantly.
Rotating his palm against your clit, his fingers ramming into your spot, he watches in awe as you fall apart around them. The way your eyes roll back, the breathless scream from your lips, the tension building and building and building in your body before weakening to near paralysis. Oh, that does things for Bucky’s ego.
Fingers trembling and bottom lip aching from the assault of your own teeth, you try desperately to get some air back into your lungs. You can’t feel your legs, your head is buzzing and your pussy won’t stop contracting around Bucky’s fingers, even as they have stopped moving.
“Oh my God,” you whine softly, eyes still closed.
“Mhm,” Bucky hums, burying his face in your neck. That was the best thing he’s ever done. Screw making amends, screw being good, this made it all worth it. He doesn’t know why or how, but this makes that neglected part inside of him hum with delight.
But he’s not done. Oh no, not with his cock groaning at him to explore you a bit further. Not with only his zipper in the way of that warmth that is still wrapped around his fingers. Fuck, how good would his fingers taste right about now?
He’s not waiting to find out and then his eyes lock with yours, darkness and light shimmering in them simultaneously. They flutter to close at the taste, at the way you bite your lip as the sight, but he is not losing you out of his sights.
“Winter soldier,” you breathe, a calm sort of power tainting your tone.
Oh, he likes it when you call him that.
You do not need those ten Russian words. At all.
He smirks, “Ya gotov otvechat.”
809 notes · View notes
desires-of-chain · 10 months
Note
can i request make up sex with wild 🥺 like he did something stupid that pissed you off and now hes making it up to you? thank you in advance 💖
Say less now 😏 GN! Reader (No specifics) Content: Make-up sex, Sub Wild, Dom Reader, Angst MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT REQUESTS ARE STILL CLOSED.
Tumblr media
The recent stunt he pulled today was enough to anger you. You were sure with the move that he did, it would be the end of him, and you would have to say your goodbyes to him quickly. You love him, you really do, but there's so much you could take without wanting to tear your hair out and scream in frustrated worry to his face. It may be seen as childish by others though in your own eyes, it was a way for you to calm down without the threat of blowing up on Wild.
You ignored every conversation he tried to have with you, the affection he placed upon your skin in hopes you'll yield, but you stood stubbornly before it all. Even if it sent pangs of hurt to your heart when seeing the downward smile on his lips and the hint of distress on his features. Seeing him continuously looking over his shoulder in hopes you'll smile, only to be met with a glare of frustration. You know he means well, but your heart put the walls up again, keeping him locked out until you felt ready to explain.
Your mind was in a battle with itself, the yelling back and forth between the mediator and the head-front aggression. There was no middle ground they could agree on, just endless bickering.
"You're staring awfully hard into that bowl there; what's on your mind?" A short huff left your lips.
"What do you want, Link?"
"Ooh," he sucks in a breath through his teeth, "what did cub do now?"
"You know what he did," sending a short flat look towards him before picking up a spoonful of roast and aggressively chewing it.
"True," He shrugs, "however, I wanna hear it from you; I never seen you this mad before."
"Well, congratulations, you have now," you wanted nothing to do with this conversation. There was no point in adding more water to an already overflowing pot. Twilight nudged his elbow against yours, gesturing his head to the side,
"He's upset."
With a quick glance, Wild sat before the pot with slumped shoulders, slowly stirring the spoon in the pot around with glazed eyes. A deep inhale through the nose was the only response; you slammed the bowl harshly onto the tree stump. The noise gathering eyes onto your form,
"Wild," you jerked your head to the side, gesturing him to follow. Not even look back to see if he did; everything flew by you like a blur until coming to an abrupt halt.
The world almost sounded as if water had been placed within your ears, muffling the forest around you and replacing it with the drumming of your heart.
"Nmmh, fuck, it's reaching so deep," your head flung back to release a gasp, ignoring the loud whimper that escaped his lips from under you. The noises echoing outward would surely bring someone's attention to witness the sight of you slamming your hips down on the champion's cock. Feral grunts and groans through clenched teeth, globs of cum dripping down your ass and onto the clothes, staining them dark.
Fingers dug deep into the skin, thrusts becoming more frantic, vicious and erratic.
"Sh-Shit!! I'm about to c-cum!" Wild wailed. 
Quickly pulling yourself off, you grabbed his cock, tugging rapidly before sliding your mouth over the head. A loud keen escaped him as his hips jolted wildly, and spurts of cum made their way down your throat, greedily drinking it as if it was ambrosia.
"If you thought you were done," you panted, hand stroking his cock; licking the underside, "you got a whole thing coming. You promised to make it up, so be a good boy for me and do just that."
237 notes · View notes
pollenallergie · 1 year
Text
Thinking about you pulling out child!best friend!Eddie’s loose tooth for him in the third or fourth grade because he was too scared to do it himself. You get home later that night and tell your mom you saved your best friend’s life today. Meanwhile, Eddie gets home and tells Wayne that he pulled it out all by himself. He’s like, “Yeah, it's no big deal, Uncle Wayne. I just pulled it out during math class because I got bored.” Cut to you comfortingly rubbing your sobbing, scaredy-cat friend’s arm at recess as you count down from ten to help him mentally prepare for you to yank his loose front tooth out of his gums.
218 notes · View notes
chronicowboy · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
i'm fine and so very normal
202 notes · View notes
whereismyhat5678 · 6 months
Note
can you draw Werner werman x dr kahl with their robots please?
To whoever sent this WEEKS ago, I am so sincerely sorry-
I FINALLY GOT TO ANSWER IT BUT I’M SORRY FOR MAKING YOU WAIT-
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Also about their robots- I really didn’t know how I would make them fit so I just drew them together separately…and-
Tumblr media
The background still looks bad to me but ZAM DID I HAVE FUN DRAWING KAHL’S ROBOT- and Katzenwagen was fun too, he’s adorable 🫶
49 notes · View notes
starry-bi-sky · 2 months
Note
what piercings does Danny have in your CFAU?
Danny’s got double lobe piercings on both ears, and then helixes, and an orbital on one side! Then he’s got an eyebrow piercing on the right side of his face. I don’t have any particular reason for why he’s got piercings as an adult, I just thought it’d be a fun way to indicate a physical change from when he was 14 and last saw the Waynes, to the next time they see him. Although with this version of Danny (rather than my original, unserious beta version of CFAU), it probably would follow that he'd potentially get piercings when he was older. (So not a total shock)
#dpxdc#dp x dc#cfau#childhood friends au#cfau danny#piercings#danny did his lobe piercings at home but the upper parts were done by a professional in the ghost zone#his ghostly healing means he couldnt go to a human piercer it’d heal in an instant#i’ve considered giving him snakebites. or a tongue piercing#guys with piercings >>>#playing dress up with your characters is the best part of making an au!#its also lowkey a relic to what my original childhood friends au was like in my head when it was still more of a 'daydream au'#which was more cracky and unserious. it leaned more into danny being more like his pre-canon self ie: meekish and shy when he was in gotham#so him having piercings/being more confident/cursing/etc the next time they saw him would come off as more of a drastic change considering#the last time they saw him (when jason was alive) he was a skittish and quiet kid. bookish. him turning out all goth-rock and punkish and#willing to throw hands with anyone he sees. would have been a big “huh??” moment for jason and co#hey wouldn't it be fun if jason had a childhood friend who moved away when he was a kid and returned to kill#the joker after he died? and that friend looked almost unrecognizable from his memories?#'daydream aus' are what i call aus that aren't all that serious and stem from listening to music and daydreaming. they're largely silly#unserious. and more “hah wouldnt this scene/idea be fun” and would've been harder to write down as a longform au. cfau stemmed from me#listening to music and going and then it spiraled from there.
28 notes · View notes
starchaserdreams · 1 year
Text
Wolfstar Microfic: Cupid
“I’m not dancing, Sirius.”
“C’mon, Moony, please??”
Sirius was having fun losing himself dancing in the middle of the partygoers, but he couldn’t help but feel himself distracted by the one person in the room who was unwilling to dance. 
“Do it for me, please?”
Remus rolled his eyes. 
Sirius would have to figure out another tactic, since this obviously wasn’t working. He tried to think through his firewhiskey addled brain, tried to come up with something, anything that might work on Remus. 
Finally, it hit him.
“I’ll let you have my leather jacket!”
Remus’ eyes widened.
“I know you like it, I’ve seen you eyeing it sometimes, you can have it!”
Remus shook his head, looking bemused, but there was a slight pink tinge to his cheeks that Sirius hadn’t noticed before. 
“I don’t want to wear it, I like it on you. I mean, it looks good on you. You wear it.”
Remus took a long sip from his drink while Sirius thought through those words. Remus held the drink up for so long Sirius wondered if he was trying to drown in it.
“Okay, I’ll wear it!” he said, grinning. 
Remus shook his head, but from the hint of a smile on his face, Sirius could tell he’d won. 
Sirius flipped up the collar and knew he looked cool doing it. 
“So you’ll dance with me right? We’ll look cool: me, in my jacket, and you, with your hair.”
Remus’ eyes widened and his hand went to his hair reflexively. 
“What’s wrong with my hair??”
Sirius grinned. “Nothing, like I said, it’s cool. You’ve been running your hands through it so many times it’s all tousled and crazy, kinda like sex hair.”
“Sirius!” Remus responded, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. 
“It’s sexy,” Sirius said with a wink, running his hand through it once. “So you’ll dance with me?”
“One song,” Remus bit out, seeming overwhelmed. He was staring at Sirius, and Sirius could tell he had him rattled.
Sirius grinned, feeling like he’d won. He liked Remus like this.
The song changed, and the firewhiskey in Sirius started to dance along immediately. 
“The Cupid Shuffle!” Remus looked up at the ceiling as though he could will the song to change with his mind.
Sirius shook his head. “Nuh uh, you said you would, c’mon, one dance!”
Remus allowed himself to be led into the crowd that was forming into lines to do the dance. Sirius stood next to him and grinned, very entertained by Remus’ resigned attempts at a dance.
(Down, down, do your dance, do your dance)
Remus alternated between giving it his best shot, and shooting Sirius looks that were almost wicked. Sirius felt hot under his collar each time, though he couldn’t imagine why.
(We got a brand new dance)
The cupid shuffle was not a hard dance; it more or less repeated the same five steps a hundred times. So there was no excuse for Sirius to trip up and step wrong when Remus looked at him like that - and there was certainly no excuse for it to happen three times.
(To the right, to the right, to the right, to the right)
Even with Remus throwing looks at him, and the chaos of Sirius’ heart at the moment, Sirius couldn’t help but feel like the moment was perfect
(To the left, to the left, to the left, to the left)
Sirius threw his head back and laughed when the world seemed just right.
(Now kick, now kick, now kick, now kick)
Remus tripped over something - who knew what, possibly just the alcohol he’d had - and fell to the ground, but he was laughing even so. 
Sirius reached out a hand to pull him up, but Remus yanked him down, and Sirius fell directly on top of him. 
Remus’ look of shock was immediate; he hadn’t intended for this to happen, hadn’t really thought that Sirius would fall. 
(A let me see ya do the Cupid)
But Sirius didn’t let go. He was suddenly aware of just how much he didn’t want to let go.
The dance seemed to go on around them, so even though they were on the side of a dance floor, it felt like they were on an island of their own. 
(A let me see ya do the Cupid, shuffle the Cupid Cupid shuffle)
Remus still hadn’t said anything. And Sirius didn’t want him to. 
Instead of using his words, Sirius brought his hand up to hold the side of Remus’ face, very gently. 
(Now let me see you do the)
Remus’ eyes widened for only a fraction of a second before he seemed to get the message, and he surged up to kiss Sirius. 
It was amazing. Sirius got absolutely lost in it.
(Cupid shuffle)
Somewhere in the background, Sirius heard a wolf whistle. But he didn’t take his eyes off Remus, who looked rather pleased with him. 
And the feeling was very mutual.
@wolfstarmicrofic 
On AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44982076/chapters/113184919
255 notes · View notes
plushie-lovey · 11 days
Text
Tumblr media
Alright, here's everyone who got necklaces today! Individual pics:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Also special shout-out to Cabbage, my small bulbasaur plush. His firm bulb was perfect to use for stretching out and shaping the string for each necklace to make them more elastic and more natural fitting
Tumblr media
22 notes · View notes