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satoruhour · 4 months

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very gojo-coded‼️ like if there’s one thing mans cannot do it is keep his hands off you

a/n: UR BRAIN >>> / tagging @jabamin @osaemu @hyomagiri :3

warnings: i guess reader is a little shy in this? fem!reader, a little teasing, use of ‘mama’, pet names, humping, fingering, lovesick gojo, unprotected sex, p -> v sex, creampie / breeding kink, multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

“baby—” you’re quick to retract your statement when you catch your boyfriend trying to relax after a long day of fighting curses, but he’s more holding his head in his hands and just taking a moment in silence for himself. the television only does more than what it’s intended for by providing an annoying canvas of background noise but he’s just too content with finally being back home that he doesn’t care.

he reached home when you were in the shower, a little surprised he didn’t try to teleport himself into the cubicle itself, but you think it’s because he’s exhausted; maybe he needs a little . . de-stressing. gojo hums at your resigned call and doesn’t turn to face you, but you know he knows that you’re surely naked and dripping under your towel, meekly holding a bottle of moisturiser and hoping you wouldn’t have to take another shower with the actions that’s sure to occur.

“what is it, sweets?” gojo asks, head tilted back along the edge of the couch, but he finally tries to turn his head toward you, smiling a little when he sees your figure freezing from the night’s breezes.

“need you to moisturise . .” you mumble, padding over to him before plopping yourself down in front of him. he welcomes you with open arms, wanting to just have you in his embrace for a little while and you fall right into his sweet talking trap. you like it, though, the sweet nothings he tells you as he easily adjusts your body against his larger one, not caring one bit that the shower droplets wet his uniform.

“c’mon, turn your back toward me,” you murmur a soft okay, sucking in a breath when he peels away the towel from your skin. you sigh softly when you feel his nose along your neck, taking in your fresh scent of strawberry shampoo and body wash while his hands massage your shoulders, down to your shoulder blades and to your sides where you jump from the ticklish sensation.

you burn when satoru laughs against your skin, “relaax, sweetheart.”

you’re unaware but gojo tries his best to untangle the knots you’ve developed over the years from endless training and brutal missions, hands working magic on your lower back now as his thumbs continually move over the base of your spine.

“you’re so tight, here.”

“a-ah . . don’t say that, satoru,” you’re anything but innocent, but it is a little upfront the way your boyfriend never fails to talk dirty in entirely mundane situations. while you’re used to it, your body still tenses from the lewdness and suddenness of it; you’re at a loss for words and you melt in gojo’s arms.

“why?” he presses his front into your back, mouth going back to your neck to try to distract you from the actual thing he’s supposed to be doing. with each kiss along your jaw, he can only feel himself get harder. “it’s cute seeing you so shy like this.”

“satoru.” it comes out shaky, “the moisturiser.”

“okay, okay,” he laughs, using his hand to turn your cheek for a small kiss, humming into it, “i’ll get to it, mama.”

the both of you are only trying to play the part — you, the clueless one receiving a moisturising job at the places you can’t reach on your back. gojo, the ever-loving boyfriend who drops everything to help you. he giggles again when you yelp at the coldness of the liquid before he starts to spread it; he does his job dutifully, at least, rubbing it into the far ends of your shoulders right to the centre where you struggle. like earlier, he takes pride in his larger hands, rubbing and squeezing at your back as he massages the moisturiser in.

“anything else you need me to help ya with?” the voice behind you surprises you again, arms now gliding along your sides to wrap around you, “maybe . .”

“are you really gonna make me say it—”

gojo giggles into your hair, an innocent action if it wasn’t for the hard-on pressed into your lower back, “it’s only fair i would want my shy baby say what she really wants, it’s always a treat.”

“i’d— uhm,” words sometimes have a hard time leaving your mouth, but even so, the way you tenderly turn around and push him to the sofa all have a scared edge to it. being with gojo made you open up more, but you don’t think your shy disposition has any problems. plus, your boyfriend finds it cute.

your hands make quick work of his pants, pulling away the belt and zipping it down, before you’re palming his bulge softly. he hums at the relief, his encouraging hands all gentle on your arms while you remove his underwear slowly. gojo looks like you’re the most beautiful as you climb on him, freshly showered and back full of sweet-smelling moisturiser, and plop yourself onto his lap. your pussy’s already fairly dripping, small moans leaving both your mouths when your cunt meets with the underside of his cock.

“at least take me out to dinner first,” satoru jokes and laughs even harder when he sees the pout on your face, “c’mere, you.”

before you know it, your hips are already grinding down on his front while he crashes his lips into yours. while his hands are placed on your ass, kneading it and helping you, yours are simultaneously removing his jujutsu uniform, fingers in perfect muscle memory from the many, many times you found yourself making out after gruelling missions. you have to pull away against your will when his hands leave your ass, doing the work yourself as he removes the uniform one arm hole at a time.

“i’ve only rubbed your back and you’re already soaking,” he whispers against your lips once he’s unclothed, lips chasing yours as you only press yourself deeper into him.

“and you’re already hard,” his eyes express pure glee at your words, letting you grind your cunt into his now dripping shaft. you can feel him twitch at the way your folds fit nicely along him, hands periodically squeezing your waist when you move your hips back and forth.

gojo has the luxury of sucking on your neck when your head tilts back at the tantalising feeling, clit bumping against his cock in all kinds of friction while you hump him, fingers losing themselves in his stark white hair that you love so much. tugging and pulling on it, there’s a plethora of sensations that only heighten the lewd situation; your nipples rubbing against his chest, his fingers stealthily playing with your hole, his teeth marking your skin.

“’toru—” you moan into open air, body arching into his hold as he hums in response, bringing your mouth back to him for a rough kiss. you can feel his fingers enter you gently while he swallows your sounds, his own hips also chasing ecstasy against your needy clit. “s’good . .”

one arm tight around your waist and the other pumping his fingers in you, you’re overwhelmed when he starts curling them in your cunt, making you whine out at the spot he’s found. everything about gojo drives you crazy, and it’s clear you do the same to him from the way his length twitches again under you.

“you’re so tight, baby,” he murmurs into the kiss, eyes struggling to stay open from the way you grind against him and push your ass against his digits. you’d expect a smart comment about him saying the exact same thing as earlier but he’s too lost in pleasure to give a shit, “can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”

you whimper at the blatant filthiness of his words, pulling away and hiding your burning face in his neck while he only chuckles softly, cut off by a grunt when you clench around him.

“need you to cum, princess,” his fingers reach deeper than any of yours, spreading you and getting you ready for his dick. your hips are working overtime, grinding the most that you can to feel something, anything against your bundle of nerves. paired with the grunts of satoru in your ear and the slickness of your pussy, you can feel yourself getting closer to your climax until—

“f-fuck . . shit,” gojo’s eyes are squeezed tight when you continue to hump the underside of his shaft while he spills all over himself, fingers faltering while he continues to cum all over himself just from your grinding, a breathless laugh escaping him when all your face held was surprise, “this is what you do t’me.”

the twitch of his cock sends you hurling over the edge as you cum over him as well, thighs closing around him and the grip on his shoulders only strengthens while your cum drips down his fingers — the declaration of the strongest sorcerer being weak only for you was something you didn’t take lightly, and yet you’re in wonder everyday how it came to be. you let out a surprised shriek when he carries you swiftly, a small question of sofa or bedroom? posed to you before you silently point to the room.

it’s all loving laughter about the abandoned towel, or him walking with his trousers halfway down his legs as he princess carries you there, messy kisses shared before you’re both plopped down and your face is smushed into the pillows (“don’t wanna mess up my moisturising job, now, do we?”).

“fuuck yeah . .” gojo groans once he slips into you, hands holding onto your hips as he eases his cock inch by inch and you’re left to softly moan at the stretch. your hands scramble for sheets and pillows, already clamping down on his shaft like a vice and he hisses. “tryna snap my dick off?”

you giggle as you turn your head so you can at least see him, a drunk smile on your face as you take in your boyfriend: chest glistening from sweat and his usual unkempt hair looking even messier and his mouth dropped open at the feel of your wet pussy.

slowly, his hips set a pace once he’s bottomed out in you, thumbs digging into your lower back and having the opposite effect of his massage from earlier; it’s bound to leave some bruises, but the drag of your cunt along his cock is just too hypnotising. he grinds himself into you, tip just about brushing your g-spot so easily.

“pretty, pretty girl . .” satoru mumbles, eyes trained on you, he admires your silent noises and limp body rocking against the bedsheets before his eyes fall on your centre, a clear sheen of slick along your folds that shines under the moonlight, “with the prettiest cunt.”

the words, as grossly filthy as they are, warms your cheeks as he continues to speed up, hips driving into you so violently you wouldn’t think he loves so softly. his hands span your lower back, triggering your arch and accentuating your ass, mesmerised with how it jiggles each time his hips meet them. but one look back to you and he’s already saying moisturising job be damned because of the lovely curvature of your lips as they fall open in pleasure together with the rolling back of your eyes.

your boyfriend leans against your back, one elbow supporting his body while he just has to litter your nape with kisses as he continues to rail you. you’re blessed with his incoherent words, only making you wetter and more pliant for him. your hips start to move back against him, too, and your hands try your best at cradling his face.

“s’good, s’full, ’toru,” you mumble, eyes barely keeping open as his fat cock stretches you and sends you reeling with each brush of his tip along your spots, “love it s’much, love you.”

he coos at his baby, body flush against yours while he muffles you with his love and lust. and while satoru has stamina, your lower back begins to hurt and he lets you lower yourself down to the bed, grinning at the feel of the sheets that smell like him.

“you feelin’ better?” he smooths his fingers along your back, and he knows you nod without even looking at him because he just knows you that well, “well, good, ’cause—”

gojo re-enters you with one hand spreading you and the other guiding his cock into you, the position only emphasising your thighs and your ass and the squeeze of his length is too good. he pulls your cheeks apart just to look at how you take him, pussy spread to accommodate him.

“’cause you feel too damn good for me not to be in ya for even a sec.” he grunts as he pushes in and you only suck in a breath at it, wiggling your butt back into his for him to start moving. his eyes fixate on your tight cunt, lost in a trance as he starts up a moderate speed, but he makes sure to thrust all up into you.

“touch yourself for me, baby,” he mumbles out, groaning when you push your butt high enough for your hand to slip in. he can feel you rubbing your clit, eyes fluttering close from the overstimulating sensation that all that falls from your lips are satoru, satoru, satoru.

“just like that, that’s it, mama,” gojo watches your expression, hips stuttering at having witnessed your beauty in such a lewd place, “wan’ me to cum in you? hm?”

you unconsciously nod, more whines falling from your lips and babbles that just shows him how fucked out you are. “i’ll need my princess to cum first, though . .” and he takes over just like that: one hand next to your face and the other swatting your hand to replace the messy circles you’ve been rubbing into your puffy clit.

“want to feel her — fuckin’ hell — clench around me, want her to cum all over my cock,” he speaks through gritted teeth, slapping your pussy briefly and you cry out in pleasure, “can you do that, sweetness?”

your eyes scrunch in euphoria, “yes, yes, satoru—” every breath you take is a struggle and every word you speak is slurred, grasping onto his wrist for an anchor and try to angle your head, “w’nna cum, i’m gonna cum, baby—”

“’toru—!” you see white before you can feel it, tearing just a bit at the intense feeling and hiding as much as you can behind his wrist as his other hand increases his speed on your clit. it happens all too fast; the slap of his pelvis against yours and the clear, audible sound of your pussy dripping and the precise thrusts in how he rams into you.

“that’s it, there we gooo . .” gojo coos when you cum silently, little pants and mewls leaving your mouth as your body convulses around him. your cunt’s gripping onto his cock so harshly he has trouble moving but it’s fine considering the way he gets to see you come undone by his doing. you’re gushing all over him, a small squeal leaving you when he pinches your clit playfully.

he slows a little just to let you ride out your orgasm, clear in the way you continue to grind back against him but soon he’s picking it up again and you’re left to hold tight onto his arm as he uses your body to reach his high. your gummy walls were just too warm and gripping onto him so well, and when you’re holding so gently onto his arm, filling you up is all he can think about.

“gonna c—” a loud groan sounds out from satoru when his thrusts are interrupted by his orgasm; all it took was one involuntary clench from you to get him to empty himself in you, sensitive tip spurting ropes and ropes of cum deep into you as he paints your insides white, “take it. take it deep in ya, mama.”

you moan softly at the obscene words and later, at the obscene noises of how he pulls himself out of you and you can hear your mixed juices coalesce and drip onto the sheets below you. although, before satoru can make a funny joke or kiss you, you’re knocked out cold on the bed sheets.

“passing out on me?” is all is says with a laugh, turning you over and gives you a spare pillow to cuddle before he leaves you with a forehead kiss and a promise to clean you up just like you deserve.

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tallulah477 · 6 months

Text

Fill Me Up

Kinktober Day 15: Size Difference

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, Oral (female receiving), P in V, Size Difference, Belly bulge, Creampie, Mention of free hanging over a tall height (not sex related), Very brief mention of possibly falling to one’s death

Word Count: 3.1K

A/N: Guess who has full use of her account again babyyyyyy! Now no one's comment sections or asks are safe. Thank you, tumblr, for finally fixing the glitch after a week. Anywho~ fic is late (again), but I hope you enjoy it <3

Summary: There’s plenty of things Neteyam loves about how tiny you are, but none of them can compare to how you feel wrapped around his cock.

Translations:

Tewgn - Loincloth

Yerik - Animal resembling a gazelle or antelope

Tawtute - Human

Palulukan/Thanator - Apex predator resembling a lion or panther

Nantang - Hyena/wolf-like animal

Tanhì - Star, bioluminescent freckle

Neteyam’s favorite thing about you is how tiny you are compared to him.

When he first saw you, you captured his attention completely. He had been hunting a yerik near the human outpost, his body hidden in the foliage behind the cover of some nearby plants, bow drawn at the ready to take his shot.

A rustle on the opposite side of the small clearing grabbed his attention, halting his movements, and the yerik lifted its head slightly from where it had been nibbling on some bits of tree bark.

You slowly walked through the brush, tiny hands lifted up to show that you meant no harm as your eyes stayed glued on the yerik. Neteyam watched in curiosity as you slowly approached the animal, moving cautiously, careful not to startle it as you moved closer. To his surprise, the animal let you. Deeming you no threat, the animal went back to its snack and didn’t move an inch when you reached out to place a delicate hand on its blue striped skin.

Your smile, even through your mask, was blinding and Neteyam’s eyes widened as the sound of your giggle hit his eardrums. He thinks that was the moment he fell for you completely - just watching you admire your small hands on the larger animal’s back. He watched you the rest of the afternoon, leaving his hunt behind and stalking you through the forest as you studied various plants, taking samples and shoving them in a small backpack slung over your shoulder.

He learned you worked closely with the human scientists, were one of them actually - ‘a very smart xenobotanist’ his father had told him when he asked. He had never seen you before, always choosing to avoid the cramped and all too chemical smelling lab and making sure to stay outside when he would be sent to get Lo’ak and Kiri during their visits with Spider and Kiri’s mom.

What a mistake that was, he had thought.

When he finally got the courage to meet you face to face, he was worried you were going to panic about the size difference. He stands at a respectable 9 feet tall, towering over your smaller frame at nearly twice your height. His build is even bigger than most Na’vi as well, a benefit from having some human genes courtesy of his once human father. His body is lean and long like a Na’vi, and there’s no denying that the average Na’vi is incredibly strong, especially compared to humans. But the muscles in his shoulders, arms, and back are much more visible than the average Na’vi, his thighs bulkier in their strength, and he knows the look makes him seem even more intimidating than he actually is.

But you don’t react the way he thinks you might, and is shocked even more when he presents you with the small woven bracelet adorned with polished beads that he made you as a courting gift and you don’t immediately throw it back at him.

Instead, you take the gift graciously, holding it to your chest like it’s something precious. He watches with wide eyes as your own scan down his body, slowly taking in the angles of his face, the dip of his collarbones, the hard canvas of his chest and down the flat plane of his belly. They hover a bit longer around his tewng, your tongue poking out to wet your lips, and when your eyes flick back up to meet his, they’re completely blown - only a small sliver of color left around the darks of your pupils.

The smirk gracing your beautiful, plump lips is absolutely wicked.

Being with you comes with different expectations than being with a Na’vi woman. You need help, a lot - your tiny tawtute body is not equipped to handle the extreme environment that Pandora throws at you. Neteyam can navigate the terrain just fine, stepping over fallen branches or large growths of shrubbery, jumping large rocks and creeks like it doesn’t even phase him to do so. Because it doesn’t, his body was made for it. Yours, on the other hand, was not.

So Neteyam does his best to help you out. He’d carry you around all the time, if it were up to him. He doesn’t mind. Loves it even - loves the feel of your soft body against his as you cling to him. So small and easy to carry, arms wrapping around his neck while his big hands support your thighs as you hang on him like the small backpack you were wearing the first day he saw you.

But you’re a stubborn woman. An ‘I can do it myself’ kind of woman, and, even though each journey without him carrying you takes significantly longer than when he does, he doesn’t mind, enjoying every additional second he has in your presence. He’ll hold your hand, or give you a supportive hand on your butt to lift you up and over any obstacle, because you’re just so beautiful with that proud grin on your face when you’ve accomplished something hard.

He likes to tease you, using his height to his advantage. You’re notorious for stealing the last few bites of Neteyam’s yovo fruit. Your excuse is that since you’re the one that cut it, you should be able to have some too. Neteyam always agrees with this fact, but you knock back bite after bite with the desperation of a hungry thanator, and when it comes to the end of the bowl and he’s only had a few pieces himself - he knows exactly how to put a stop to your yovo fruit destruction.

“Neteyam,” You whine, jumping up and trying to reach his arm to pull the bowl back down. His arm stays solid where it is as he pops another bite of fruit in his mouth. “Give it back! I want some,”

“You ate the whole thing already,” He laughs, grabbing your reaching hand with the one not currently holding the bowl and pressing it back against your chest. “My little hungry palulukan, let me eat some, yes?”

He makes up for his ‘inexcusable use of his gargantuan height’ by cuddling you after, wrapping his entire body around yours as he pulls you close. You feel so safe in his embrace, protected from everyone and everything who could ever try to hurt you. Just let them try to come and grab you from his unwavering hold - your big, strong teddy bear who’s flat nose presses against your neck, docile and sweet with his shielding hold around his love, turning fierce and wild at the first hint of any danger.

He loves your curves, loves how soft and squishy you are compared to everyone else. The Na’vi women are all lean, hard muscle, beautiful in their own right - but you, your hips that mold under his fingers, plump chest that feels so good under his head when he rests on it, small fingers playing with his braids that lull him to sleep. No one can compare to you.

And he loses his breath when he thinks about how much you trust him. He’s your protector, he knows that more than anyone. He would lay down his life for you in a heartbeat, fight tooth and nail to keep you safe from anything - but you have these . . . adrenaline rushes. Moments where you can’t help but want to feel a sense of excitement and the feeling of complete freedom that comes with it from doing something daring. You're able to contain it mostly - it’s not like you’re jumping off mountains or cliff diving into the freezing water.

You like to test him, try to catch him off guard by climbing on tall rocks or on the lower tree branches and throwing yourself at Neteyam giggling like a nantang about to attack. He always catches you, arms wrapping safely around your smaller frame and never letting you hit the ground. The antics used to scare him, prompting him to give you long, frustrated lectures about how he’s responsible for your safety and you shouldn’t purposefully put yourself in dangerous situations. But you would just shrug him off, heart still beating faster in your excitement and tell him that he should just always be there to catch you then.

Now, he helps you get your fill - laying on his stomach on a high tree limb as he slowly lowers you over the side, large hand wrapped securely around your forearm while your own hand wraps around his wrist. He lets you dangle there, suspended in the air over nothing but what would be a long drop and a rather nasty death if you actually fell. But he would never drop you, and the look of pure thrill and happiness on your face as you hang there overlooking the vast expanse of forest and feeling like you’re invincible always makes his chest flood with warmth. He especially loves it when you look up at him and grin, reaching up to grab his wrist with your other hand, too, and playfully kicking your feet, swinging slightly and using his arm like your very own personal swingset.

But his favorite thing about your size is how tight you feel wrapped around him.

You look so gorgeous, laying on the forest floor and spread out for him like the delicious feast you are. Your back arches, breasts jiggling with each movement as you grind harder against his face. He sucks savagely at your clit, two fingers curling just so inside of you, pressing against that special spot that makes you see stars.

“Neteyam, please,” You whine, leg lifting up to drape over his shoulder, trying to pull him closer.

“What’s wrong, tanhì?” He murmurs, voice sending vibrations through the sensitive nub between your thighs. His eyes are dark with desire as he looks up at you through hooded lids, the usual amber of his irises nearly completely overtaken by the darks of his pupils.

“Stop teasing,” You breathe, walls clamping down tightly around his fingers. His head looks so big between your thighs, his fingers thick and long where they’re thrusting inside you. “Just put it in already. Want you to fill me up.”

“You’re not ready,” He says, sounding drunk as he breathes in your arousal. “Need to stretch you out more.”

“I’m not an amateur,” You grunt, glaring down at him. “I’m stretched out enough,”

His eyes stay locked on yours, unamused at your little tantrum even as he gives your clit another firm lick, textured tongue swiping across the swollen nub as pushes his last finger into your drenched cunt. You whimper at the stretch, humping his fingers and face as you chase your orgasm. You feel so full already, so full with only three fingers and it's not enough. Not enough when you know just how full you’ll really feel with his cock inside you. His long, hard, thick, beautiful cock that he’s currently pressing into the ground but that should be pushing into you instead.

The coil in your belly tightens, and your fingers grip onto his hair, pulling the braids tightly as the pressure bursts and you cum, squirting all over his face and thrusting fingers. He works you through your orgasm, fingers digging into your sopping hole and lips attaching to your clit as you ride it out. Wave after wave of pleasure rushing through your body as you scream.

When your orgasm subsides, he pulls his fingers from you, ears perking at the wet noise your pussy makes as it tries desperately to stay clinged to him. You pant, pushing yourself up on your elbows as you watch him kneel in front of you - large body blocking the setting sun behind him and you watch in awe at how he can look so beautiful in his orange glowing halo.

His skilled fingers untie his tewng, pulling it from his body and letting his hard cock slap against his belly. Your mouth waters at the sight. It stands proudly, tall and thick and nearly the size of your forearm - dark blue stripes and sparkling tanhì decorating the shaft all the way up to the lilac tip that’s already dripping with precum.

You want it inside you so badly.

He moves to crawl over you, lips pressing reverently against your neck before you pull back, mischievous smirk on your face as you crawl backwards away from him.

His hairless brows furrow at your distance. “Ma y/n, what is wrong?”

“You’re so mean to me,” You tell him, scooting back even further as he tries to get closer to you.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m mean to you?”

“Mhm,” You hum. He moves closer again, faster this time as he tries to cage you under him, but you scramble away again. “I beg and beg for your cock, and all you do is deny me.”

“I’m trying to give it to you now,” He huffs.

“Well, what if I don’t want it now?” You say with all the attitude you can muster, and your heart pounds in excitement at his dark glare.

“Woman,” He growls, a wicked grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Come here,”

With lightning quickness, he grabs your ankles and pulls your body towards him. You squeal at the sudden movement, giggling as your body flops when he manhandles you into the position he wants. He flips you over onto your stomach, gripping your hips and dragging your lower half up so they’re flush against his. One of his hands finds your upper back, pushing you down further into the moss covered ground and pinning you against the forest floor.

You moan when you feel his cock slide through your slick folds, gathering your wetness on his length as his tip bumps rhythmically against your clit.

“You don’t have to be a brat, tanhì,” He says, his grin audible in his voice as he rocks his hips, and your breathing hitches when the head of his cock catches on your entrance. “You know I’ll always give you what you want.”

You whimper desperately as he starts to push inside of you, large cock bullying its way into your tight pussy. The stretch is glorious, your body molding to take his length, and the burn making your mouth fall open in a silent scream as he pushes in further, inch by inch - and it feels so good, so fucking good and you cry for more, cry for faster despite the fact that you feel like you might split in half.

He ignores you, pushing into you at the pace that he wants, not you. And you both let out satisfied moans when he’s finally buried deep inside you. You feel like he’s in your guts and a large dopey smile graces your lips at the thought of your body being completely used by him, any and all important body parts and organs pushed to the side to make space for his even more important cock.

You can feel yourself dripping on the ground beneath you, long lines of slick dripping from off your clit and onto the moss below. The burn has subsided into a dull pleasure, and your eyelashes flutter as Neteyam adjusts his stance behind you, leveraging himself onto one knee with one foot planted on the ground. Your pussy clings to him as he pulls halfway out, not wanting to let even an inch of him leave your tight heat, and you gasp when he slams back in.

“What happened, baby?” Neteyam teases, pulling back out and pushing in again, your eyes crossing when you feel his tip kiss your cervix. “You had so much to say earlier.”

“Nughh, f-fuck,” You whine.

You can do nothing but take it as he thrusts into you, fingers so tight on your hips that you know there’s going to be bruises afterwards. His cock drags against your walls, balls slapping against your clit with each thrust, and sparks of pleasure shoot up your spine. Your hands try to find purchase on the ground but can’t find anything to grab onto, and your fingernails dig into the dirt just to do something.

Your second orgasm is quickly approaching, the intense stretch and constant battering against your cervix combined with Neteyam’s husky voice in your ear grunting ‘you feel so tight, baby. Feel so good. Fuck,” pushing you closer and closer to that sweet edge of bliss that you’ve been craving ever since you dragged Neteyam out here.

“Teyam, g-gonna c-cum,” You whimper, and in an instant he drags you up by the back of your neck, hand sliding around to the front of your throat to keep you pressed against his sternum.

“Yeah, you’re gonna cum?” He asks, huge hand moving to caress the large bulge now visible in your belly. “Gonna cum for me, tanhì?”

You whimper at the contact and your hand drops to massage at your throbbing clit. “Please! Please, I’m so close. So fucking close,”

“Shh,” He says, hand gently rubbing the jumping bulge as he continues to rock into you. “Cum for me, baby,”

You scream, pleasure ripping through you when his hand presses down hard on the bulge. Your orgasm rips through you like a freight train, your hand rubbing furiously over your clit as you squirt all over the ground below you. He roars as your pussy clenches and pulses around him, drenching him in your essence, and with only a few extra thrusts he’s cumming too, spilling into your warm, tight, tawtute body and filling you up to the brim with his release.

It’s too much for you, too much and too hot as he paints your insides white. He’s still cumming even when you're full - his release spilling out of you from around his cock and mixing with your squirt in a puddle. You shake and twitch in his hold, a long hum of satisfaction ripping from your throat as your eyes roll back into your head.

You can hear him panting into your ear behind you, trying to recover from his own explosive orgasm, but he’s ready all the same when your body goes limp in his hold. He picks you up, carefully pulling your exhausted body off of his cock, and his strong arms cradle you to his chest.

“Just sleep now, ma y/n,” He says, gently brushing a strand of sweaty hair away from where it's stuck to your mask. “I’ll take care of you,”

A sleepy smile graces your lips and you let yourself fall asleep without argument. You know he’ll take care of you. He’ll always take care of you. Neteyam Sully - fierce Omatikaya warrior, eldest son of Toruk Makto, your protector, your lover.

And the man who can fill you up like no other.

**Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @teyamshuman

#lunaskinktober2023 #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x female reader #taliewrites

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maddiebuckley · 6 months

Text

TILE TRANSITION TUTORIAL

a couple of people have asked me for a tutorial on how I did the penultimate gif in this set, so here goes! this is my first tutorial, so please feel free to reach out with further questions if anything's unclear.

note: this tutorial assumes you know the basics of gifmaking, can create the base gifs, and are familiar with timeline mode.

STEP ONE: create the base gifs! I'd recommend staying between 25-40 frames for each gif, since the transitions we'll use later tend to increase gif sizes. these are the ones I'll be using for this tutorial:

STEP TWO: create the guide layouts for both base gifs. for this panel, I chose a 4x4 grid — I would recommend keeping the number of "tiles" low because it can get tedious, but have a minimum of 9 (3x3 grid).

now your canvas should look like this:

STEP THREE: create the tiles. this is where the going gets rough; there might be easier ways to do this that I couldn't think of 😭 if there are any please send me an ask!

essentially, in this step we'll cut up the base gifs into smaller squares so that each tile can be manipulated separately when we put both gifs together. to do this, first create a square using the rectangle tool and the guides. then duplicate the base gif, move it above the square, apply a clipping mask, and then convert the clipped gif and square (selected in the image below) into one smart object.

ALTERNATELY: you could duplicate the original base gif and use layer masks to isolate tiles. create a layer mask for the duplicated gif layer and, with the layer mask selected, drag your mouse over a square (using the guide layout) and press delete. then press ctrl/cmd + i to invert the layer mask so that the gif only shows in the square of your choosing.

now repeat until you've got the entire gif in tiles, and do the same for the other gif!

since the transition effect is achieved by staggering the crossfades for each tile of the final gif, you can cheat by having multiple tiles "flip" at a time, ideally no more than four. this means you need to cut the base gif up into fewer pieces. to do this, simply draw multiple squares instead of one and then merge the shapes, before duplicating and clipping the gif onto them.

if you do this, it's essential to remember that you have to divide both gifs up in the exact same way. each piece of the b/w gif has to correspond to a piece of the purple gif!

this is what the layers look like for each gif once I'm done:

I have them lettered so that it'll be easier to match them up in the next step.

STEP FOUR: this is the complicated bit that took me two days to figure out. I'll do my best to explain but don't hesitate to reach out if something isn't clear!

to begin, open up a new psd and import both base gifs into it. (remember to click "create video timeline" and ensure that your gifs are all in order before proceeding.)

now, the trickiest part about this transition is ensuring that all the little tiles sync up so that the larger gif is coherent. so first we'll create some markers (just empty layers) to ensure that everything lines up as it should. — marker 1: at about halfway through the first gif (b/w in this case) — marker 2: at about a quarter of the gif length — marker 3: close to the end of the gifs

at this point we're ready to start bringing in the tiles. I'm going to delete the base gifs from this new psd just to keep things cleaner!

first thing to do is import my b/w tile. move the timeline slider over to marker 1 and split the first gif. (if it helps, rename the split gifs and add (start) and (end) to the two halves.) then, move the (end) half to the beginning of the timeline, and the (start) half to line up with marker 3.

the purple tile is easier to manage. simply import it into the psd and line it up with marker 2.

your timeline should now look like this:

notice the overlap between the gifs at their beginnings and ends — this is where you'll be able to cascade the tiles flipping, so it helps to have a significant amount of overlap.

crop the three gifs for this tile as you see fit! since this is the first tile I want to flip from b/w to purple, I'll crop gif 1a (end) all the way to the current position of the timeline slider (red line with blue tip) and leave the beginning of gif 2a uncropped. for the flip from purple to b/w, I'll crop both gifs a bit.

once that's done, drag all three gifs onto the same level in timeline so they form a video group. your timeline should look something like this:

now you just repeat the process for all the other tiles! as long as you made sure that all the tiles in one gif correspond with tiles in the other gif in step three, this should be a fairly painless process. make sure to crop the starts/ends of the gifs separately so that they don't all flip together.

this is what my layers look once I've done all the tiles:

and the gif!

STEP FIVE: transitions! click on the half-white square (top right of the left column in the timeline, beside the scissors) and select the crossfade transition, then drag it between two gifs in a video group. it should create a two-triangle symbol and shorten the overall length of the video group.

apply the transition to all the tile flips, ensuring that the duration of all transitions is constant. this can sometimes be tricky because ps likes to change the duration of each transition, so right click on the transition symbol and manually change all your transition durations to be the same.

your layers should now look something like this:

STEP SIX: draw the grid. bring back the guide layout from step two and using the line tool (I like 2px thickness), trace the grid. adjust opacity as you see fit (50-80% is usually a good idea), so that the canvas looks like this:

STEP SEVEN: export and celebrate! you're done!

I hope this tutorial made sense and was easy to follow, and happy giffing! my inbox is always open for any questions <3

#tutorial #ps help #ps tutorial #userace #alielook #userabs #usercats #userhella #userfaiths #tuserabbie #usershreyu #usertreena #tuserlucie #uservivaldi #usertj #usergiu #userroza

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bby-deerling · 4 months

Text

crackerbox palace (zoro x reader)

dedicated to the anon who wanted to see artist!reader joining the crew! i got a bit carried away, so this one's a bit longer! as always, this can be read standalone, but is part of my larger zoro x artist!reader continuity.

ft. fem!reader, artist!reader, fluff, strawhat antics, sanji being sanji, a bit of canon divergence to allow for reader to join the crew

wc: 1.8k masterlist

Shortly after the events at the Baratie, the Merry docks for a brief supply restock at a small island nearby. With Zoro grievously injured, Nami sends Luffy and Usopp out to find a proper doctor; when they return with a painter in tow, she sighs, not sure why she expected them to heed her directions in the first place.

The allure of a quick portrait painting by a street vendor was too tempting for Luffy and Usopp to resist, and you jumped at the opportunity for some customers, and some good company. Rambling about your dream to be a painter renowned enough to leave a permanent mark on history gets your muses excited, and they shared their own dreams in turn.

“Can’t believe I’m lucky enough to paint the future King of the Pirates! I wish I could capture the rest of your journey!” you gushed, grin plastered across your face as you spun around your canvas to show Luffy your first finished piece. Stars in his eyes, he praised your work with excitement, and nearly ruined the painting as he eagerly inspected it; however, as you motioned Usopp to sit take his place and sit for his portrait, you picked up on a faint sense of gears turning in the rubber boy’s head as he watches you.

As you worked, putting more effort than usual into steadying your wrists on account of how hard the two of them were making you laugh, movement blurring in your peripheral vision breaks your focus—a petty thief was reaching for the great “Captain” Usopp’s wallet. His slick fingers were fast, but you were quicker to the draw, brushes clattering on the ground and paint streaking across your clothes as you reached for one of your throwing knives, launching the blade straight through his hand and pinning it to the ground. The three of you quickly ran the pickpocket off, and after some lively conversation, you returned to your task of capturing Usopp’s likeness, refining the forms of the highlights and shadows on his face.

“How come you jumped in to help us?” the sniper asked, eyeing you curiously while trying not to move too much.

“When I paint someone, I feel like I leave a piece of my soul in the work. I feel a connection with the people I paint—I know we don’t know each other well, but I feel a responsibility to take care of my friends.” you said, sheepish grin on your face and an echo of loneliness in your voice. Pink flush tickled your cheeks, embarrassed at getting attached so quickly to the exuberant strangers that had captivated you all afternoon.

“Since we’re friends now, join my crew!” Luffy said decisively, his thoughtful expression from before replaced with a wide grin.

“Luffy, are you sure?” Usopp whispered hesitantly, grabbing onto his captain’s shoulder as he sized you up.

“’Course I am!” he exclaimed, throwing his rubbery arm around your shoulders, prompting you to grin and stow your materials in your travel easel. Luffy laughed at your eagerness—he wouldn’t have asked if he wasn’t sure you were going to accept, after all.

“C’mon, show me to the ship, Captain!” you say excitedly once you click the final latch on your pochade box, buzzing and nearly vibrating with the promise of abandoning a stagnant downward spiral for an opportunity to chase your wildest dreams.

And it was as simple as that; here you were, boarding the Merry after a brief detour to pack some essential belongings. Itching to travel, sail, and feel the thrill of the sea breeze through your hair, there are no reservations as you step onto the deck; one life was all you had, and Luffy’s energy had thoroughly convinced you that from this point forward, every single moment would be full of meaning, purpose, and happiness—the true kind, that feeds one’s soul with a hearty and nourishing meal.

“Hope you don’t mind being put on first aid duty for a while—we don’t have a doctor yet.” Nami says after a brief introduction, shooting a glare at an oblivious Luffy. “Zoro’s pretty beat up.” she clarifies, handing you supplies as she motions her head towards the injured swordsman leaning against the railing.

Giving her a gracious smile as she fills your arms with bandages and salves, you nod and assure her it’s no problem at all, feeling a sense to prove yourself and get into the navigator’s good graces.

“You’ll love her, Zoro! She fights with two knives at once!” Usopp exclaims as he and Luffy make fake stabbing motions at each other, which quickly devolves into play-fighting before Nami scolds them and gives them something productive to do, confirming your intuition was correct in assuming that she was the one who kept things running smoothly.

Zoro simply sighs, barely paying you a passing glance; one could hardly blame him as his steely gaze fixes ahead at nothing, fighting to not drift out of consciousness. Crouching in front of him, you give him a gentle smile and introduce yourself; he gives you a curt nod in return, and you start to clean his gash. Turning your attention from his clenched jaw, tanned skin, and short, messy mint green hair, focused doe-eyes are glued to the messy, bloody, oozing injury that looks like it had already been ripped back open a few times.

“I heard from Luffy that you got this wound from Dracule Mihawk…” you say hesitantly as you work, curious but not wanting to pry too deeply. His stare is cautious, but a glint in his eyes urges you to continue your thought. A spark lights behind your gaze as your lips curl upward. “It’s exciting, isn’t it? That he sees your potential? That means you’re really gonna do it—you’re gonna be the World’s Strongest Swordsman!”

Upon hearing your words, a slight smile forms on his face and you truly look at him for the first time. Sunset casts a soft orange light, warm and comforting, over his tired face; you feel your heart stutter as you smile back at him.

“Makes every bit of the pain worth it.” he replies, letting his grin grow larger until another dab of anti-septic makes him cringe again. Remnants of a smile still on your face, you let your bottom lip pout apologetically, silently sympathizing with his discomfort.

“I know it hurts, but it looks a bit infected—we gotta make sure we keep this clean.” you mumble, voice trailing off as you become intently focused on tending to the areas of his wound that were starting to secrete a mystery yellow liquid.

Though the task at hand was less than appetizing, the tantalizing scent of something brewing in the ship’s kitchen intermingles with the scent of chemicals and sea salt in the air; as if on cue, a pair of suave footsteps nearly dances beside you, breaking your concentration and making you huff in annoyance.

“What goddess has taken such pity on a man such as me on this lovely evening? Does this gorgeous creature have a name she could—”

“We know each other, Sanji.” you say dryly, only sparing him a momentary glance before going back to cleaning Zoro’s wounds as he laid back against the railing of the Merry. The cook is shocked enough by your words to pause his professions of adoration and scrutinize you, scanning each of your features intently to try to place your face. Eventually, a wave of recognition washes over his face, light sparking in his eyes at the successfully recovered memory.

“Of course we do,sunshine.” he says after a long pause, before informing you and the swordsman that dinner would be ready in a few minutes. You nod and go back to your job of patching up Zoro, and Sanji finds himself lighting a cigarette and lurking behind the mast to observe you and eavesdrop on your conversation with the swordsman.

“What was that about?” Zoro asks curiously, wincing as you dab his oozing flesh with more anti-septic, inspecting it carefully before finally reaching for a roll of bandages.

“Met him at the restaurant a few years ago. Went with my family—they were regulars, but they only brought me once in a blue moon.” you reply, biting the inside of your cheeks, deep in focus.

“He make a pass at you?” he asks with a smirk that only grows wider when you giggle mirthfully in return.

“’Course he did, have you met him? He made plenty of moves on my mother too. My brother would always tease her and say Sanji was her little boyfriend.” you say, smiling up at the swordsman; you were already embedding your way under his skin, and making jokes at the dopey lovesick cook’s expense only endeared you to him more.

Zoro throws his head back and laughs, and you end up in a giggling fit, leaving the still eavesdropping Sanji with his jaw agape and feeling like he was in a fever dream, shocked at how quickly you were getting on the stoic swordsman’s good side.

“Stick around me and I’ll keep him out of your hair for you.” he says, ruffling your hair as you tie the last of his bandages. Your grin spreads from ear to ear, cheeks flushed pink, and Sanji swears your eyes are sparkling as they meet Zoro’s—if he wasn’t so jealous, he might swoon at such a display of chemistry.

Instead, he lets the monster in his chest, green as the mosshead’s hair, take over, and bitterly interrupts the sweet moment, informing the two of you that dinner was ready to be plated.

The swordsman nods in acknowledgement and pushes himself up onto his feet; reaching his hand out, he offers you his hand as if you were the one injured, confident grin on his face as you take it and he pulls you up.

“You’re a painter right? Do ya’ draw too?” he asks, walking beside you towards the kitchen, sun nearly sinking behind the horizon.

“I do—I’m better with paints, but it’s a fundamental skill so I practice often.” you reply as you take a seat next to him at the dinner table, giving the rest of your new crewmates a smile and wave.

“That so…I’ve got a few ideas for some cool poses.” he says, getting up to demonstrate one, putting one hand on his hip and holding his other sword up high above his head. The sight is captivating to you, and goofy to the rest of the crew, who start laughing and calling him a dork—Usopp even tosses a dinner roll in his direction, causing Sanji to bark at him and force him to eat it off the floor.

Taking a bite of your mouthwatering baked salmon, the explosion of flavors on your tongue causes a dopey grin erupt on your face; your heart was full and brimming with the happiness and bliss of having new friends, delicious food, and for the first time in a long time, hope of an optimistic future.

Having a new favorite crewmate felt nice too.

#one piece x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x you #roronoa zoro x you #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece scenario #one piece fanfiction #x reader #i stitched together like 4 wips that i abandoned to finally make this into a cohesive fic hehe

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parisoonic · 9 months

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I just want to say I love how you do your lineart, it looks so good! ahhhhhhhh!!

I'm gathering a lot of advice about the topic of lineart and I just wanna know how you get it to look like that? My line weight is getting better but the drawing itself just comes out a bit.. weird.

Thank you so much! Lineart is probably the thing I've been working hardest on as I am not a lineartist (and still struggle a lot) but it's something I really need to get better at for my job. UM there's honestly so much that could be said on the topic of lineart. Big things for me are:

Weight -> Use line weight (aka thickness) to describe form, lighting, contact and scale. Thick lines imply shadow, contact and nearness-to-camera. Thin lines imply tension, recession and light.

Straights vs Curves -> Use straight lines against curved ones for maximum interest. This is partly a character design thing but as we're using lines to describe our characters it's worth mentioning :)

Complex vx Simple -> Use complex lines against simple. Faces are always complex so therefore the backs of heads should always be simple. Chests are quite complex so backs should be simple. Dorsal sides of the arms are complex (Delt, tricep, bicep) whilst the ventral side is more simple (tricep...mainly) etc.

'Think in Ink' -> Lower your sketch layer almost to 0% opacity so you're not getting hung up on how nice/energetic your sketch look and instead are approaching the piece from an ink mindset. BUT it's digital! So if there's something in your sketch that you like just bring it forward (copy and paste) into your ink layer. I sketch and ink with the same brush so I can use this workflow

'Confidence' -> small hesitant feathery lines will look nervous compared to big swooping lines. Less is always more. I'll redraw arms/limbs until I can get the appearance that it was done in one brush stroke. Again it's digital so you can erase to cheat this look : )

MISC 01: I always hear 'draw from the shoulder'........meh............it's digital so draw from your wrist...it's fine honestly. If we were working at A1 in a life drawing class then we could get some shoulder action going but most of us are hunched over 16inch tablets. I think this advice aims to pull people away from feathery-nervous lineart honestly which you can improve on without relearning how to draw from your shoulder.

MISC 02: For a 'smoother' look do your lineart at a larger canvas size than you need. Once I'm happy with a sketch I usually double the canvas size and do my lineart then.

MISC 03: In PS (at least) anti-aliasing goes funny at any zoom level that isn't in the 5 times table. So try not to look at your canvas when you're zoomed in to 87% or 71.39% or something crazy. Just stick to 25%, 50%, 75% and 100% if possible.

UNFORTUNATE TRUTH: Lineart is incredibly based on raw draughtmanship I've discovered. When you're working with colour you can hide a lot in rendering (shadows, highlights) or post-processing (depth of field) but in lineart all your mistakes are just...there for people to see. There's ways round this...which I use A LOT. 'Flourishes' (I use 'flourishes' to mean over-confident lineart where it veers particuarly thick or particuarly thin in contrast to your approach in the rest of the image) can sort of trick people into thinking you're more confident about an area than you actually are.

As well as leaving 'breathing room' within your lineart instead of actually...resolving the area. I do this the most around the face and hands.

Hopefully some of this helps? Honestly there's a lot of deep dives that could be done into indivudal things and there's also the massive caveat that all of these are 'guidelines' and not strict rules. I also favour a more...concept-arty? animation-y? storyboard-y? look to my lineart which favours flourishes and breathing room for a incomplete/work-in-progress feel which would make methodical colouring (ie: for a comic or something) a pain.

Keep up pratice is the main thing and doing studies of artists who you like that have great lineart - you'll pick up draughtmanship skills along with the lineart studies. Here's some of my lineart from a year or two ago...it varies between very 'standardised' (which makes it difficult to read volumes and to be honest, it's boring) and 'TOO EXCITING' (which...also makes it difficult to read volumes and for the eye to rest).

I'd like to share my brushes at some point as I've found 3 that I really like and use for everything more or less. I discovered that a shocking low amount of people use PS on tumblr (shocking to me I guess as i'm so used to PS being the standard) and everyone seems to use Procreate or Clip Studio Pro...so I want to check that the brushes are Procreate compatible at least before I share!

#sorry if none of this makes sense. im on day TWO of a hangover...kill me now #asks #art tutorial

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everparanoid · 3 months

Text

For you, I'd steal the stars w/ Wriothesley

Modern Teyvat Au! Wriothesley x f! reader

cw: fluff, minor hint at soulmates.

word count: 3.5k

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠...

╭────────────────────────╮

Wriothesley couldn’t recall how he found himself standing on an unimportant cyan Tuesday afternoon in Autumn, staring at a painting in the Fontaine National Art Gallery not too far away from his office. The painting, Wriothesley reckoned, couldn’t be any larger than two sheets of parchment and yet it hung alone in the centre of a white room. A masterpiece of simplicity. Above him, a giant white ball spun in slowed motion as plain as the rest of the room, a compliment to the art. The canvas however was a deep navy blue, the same shade as the night. Covering this deep blue were speckles of white, spontaneous in their positions. Some gathered in clustered constellations unknown to man. Others, singular. In the middle a golden speck shone, overwhelming the image the longer he stared. He stared and stared until it appeared to be shooting out of the blues and whites and filling his vision. He couldn’t for the life of him understand why such a simple concept had moved him. Why an image alone in a room far away from all the other extravagant displays of artistic prowess had managed to give him such peace; for in the time that he had been staring at the image—lost to time and the world—he had experienced a thousand lifetimes. He’d been everything; from a small sapling to an ancient oak tree; from a huge wolf to a small squirrel; from a primordial narwhal to a tiny transparent fish swimming in the bottom of the darkest blue seas. He’d experienced nations crumbling and rising again and loves that transcended time and space. All beautiful. All but a millisecond in the eyes of the vast universe.

“To you in every universe,” an unknown voice said.

“Huh?” Wriothesley responded, his attention stolen. His reality returned to the same bleak normality which he had just escaped.

You nodded to the painting, “That’s its name.”

He stared at you with an uncertainty reserved for strangers. He hadn’t heard your footsteps as you entered the room nor had he seen you stop beside him, and yet here you were. A stranger. A golden fleck in his blue world.

“Are you interested in it?” You spoke using a soft tone that Wriothesley particularly liked. He hadn’t heard a voice like yours before. He hadn’t heard much past the same blue tones of business tycoons and wannabe entrepreneurs who wished to fill his and their pockets with mounds of green. Being a successful CEO of a Fortune 100 made one lose the many colours of life to shades of blue and green. At the end of a long day, he often found himself wondering what the sun might look like beyond the aeons of blue.

“In what, sorry?” he responded, confused.

“The painting.”

He noticed your name card pinned to your collar announcing you as a member of staff from the gallery.

“Oh, yes. I am,” he said almost sheepishly; his interest was still new to him. Wriothesley always prided himself on his curiosity though he’d never thought himself to be one interested in art. Yet on that random Tuesday when his assistant had got his meal wrong, he’d found himself wandering into the art gallery as if compelled by some supernatural force. “I’ve never seen this before.”

Wriothesley was sure that if he had known such a masterpiece was here, he would have come to see it.

“It’s new,” you said.

“Ah, I see.”

He felt your eyes linger on him for a second before you continued. “Most people are disappointed when they pay the five thousand mora to get past the security only to see this.”

He supposed objectively that he could understand why. If one was hoping for a room of mirrors or a light show they were bound to be disappointed. Then again five thousand mora did buy a meal deal at the local supermarket. But what was five thousand mora to him?

“How long has it been here?” he asked.

“As of right now?” you appeared to be looking up as if calculating, “Three weeks.”

“And how are the numbers?”

“At first people came for the exclusivity and the curiosity. But because the artist is anonymous, they didn’t advertise their art. It’s their thing, I guess. A sort of authorless art. I think it lets people project more. You know? Imagine themselves as the artist…”

Wriothesley did know. Even as a successful man, more than half of the projects happening in Fontaine were due to his discreet puppeteering. He did not like the limelight. He’d make appearances here and there but the people who needed to know him knew him, and those who didn’t could read the credits. It was his philosophy that one didn’t need their face everywhere to do their job.

“But now… I guess we are lucky if we get twenty people in a week. There is other interesting stuff to look at in the gallery so…” your speech faded off.

Wriothesley hummed in acknowledgement.

“Honestly, there aren’t many people that show true interest in this piece,” you continued.

He could feel the excitement seep from your pores like solar flares, and he almost found himself stepping closer to absorb its heat.

“Do you want to know about it?” you asked suddenly.

Buzz Buzz.

“No,” he hesitated, glancing down at his phone. “Thank you.”

Your shoulders dropped but your smile remained.

“It’s okay.”

“Perhaps another time?” He found himself saying. He hadn’t known why he had proposed that. He had no intentions of coming back. He didn’t have the time to come back. To see; to stop; to experience, but he would. He knew that he would. Even if he had to make the time. He’d return in hopes of experiencing that feeling once more.

On a random cerulean Tuesday in Winter, he returned. It had been two months since he first witnessed the painting. Once again, he had wandered into the art gallery during a lunch break. And once again, he stood in the empty room. Alone. Lost in a dream within a dream. This time, as he stared into the painting that had once again entranced him, he became a blade of grass growing next to a beautiful flower. Watching it; admiring it; loving it. He couldn’t understand why in every instance you seemed to seep in. He didn’t know you, and yet it felt like he’d seen you in everything since that day.

‘A moment where time stops, worries fade, and everything feels right. That is the feeling we are chasing. That is the feeling we must never stop searching for. In those moments, I will recognise you in every lifetime. Across every state of being. My heart will seek out yours like eyes do at night, in search of a northern star. I will seek you in every beautiful thing. To you in every universe—’

Wriothesley leaned back, perplexed. The plaques lining the walls of the white room and under the ball held no information about the artist. What had it meant? He couldn’t fathom the thought of something so abstract.

“It’s you,” that same voice from before said from behind, tearing Wriothesley from his thoughts. He didn’t need to turn to know that the owner of the voice was you. Your silent presence had a magnetic quality, pulling him in without him realising it, and suddenly there you were, standing beside him.

“Hello,” he said, though the greeting felt insufficient when he laid eyes upon you. He couldn’t decide whether you had grown more beautiful, or his memory hadn’t held up the splendour that took his breath away when you stood with that genuine smile on your face, and your hands tucked into the pockets of the blazer you wore. You looked like a painting yourself, like something that had just stepped out of a Constable landscape and wandered into the gallery. An angelic apparition. You had a gentle sway to you like you couldn’t stand completely still. Wriothesley wondered if a gust of wind were to blow through the white room, would it blow you away too, like a leaf flees a tree in a breezy morning?

“Did you experience something different this time?” you asked.

Wriothesley’s features darkened. You couldn’t possibly see into his mind, and he wasn’t one to wear his emotions on his face. He’d learnt not to.

“Have I been standing here for a while?”

You shook your head. “No more than ten minutes.”

He blinked.

“It felt like longer, right?” you asked, cheerily.

“A lifetime,” he admitted, his voice softening.

“It does that.”

“Should I leave? Am I holding up the line?”

“No, you’re good,” you said. “No one comes here anymore anyway.”

You turned to the painting. It hadn’t changed, and yet for Wriothesley, the beauty of it seemed to spill out of the edges and illuminate you. Golden. Flickering. He found himself stealing glances at you, an intriguing stranger who had effortlessly piqued his interest. An intriguing stranger, who he only knew the name of and nothing else. Unconsciously, he leaned toward you, and you did too, as if pulled into each other’s gravitational field.

“Why is it alone?” he asked.

You stepped back and looked up at the giant white ball above, spinning in slow circles, and then to the plain white walls in the otherwise stark room.

“It’s not alone.”

“But it is,” he snapped, growing quite annoyed with his inability to understand your abstractness.

Wriothesley liked answers. Puzzles were fun, and they had their place in his world, but answers were like keys to locked doors.

“What makes you think that just because there is a singular piece in a room the whole place is not art?”

His brows furrowed.

Your smile widened as you turned to the painting. “If this room was filled with paintings, would you have noticed it?”

“No.”

“Why?”

He didn’t have time for this, but he couldn’t seem to tear himself away from you and your questions.

You took another step back, and Wriothesley watched you as you stopped directly under the giant white ball this time. With an open hand outstretched to him, he gathered that you wanted him to join you in the centre of the room. Eventually, he took one long step, and then another till he stood closer to you but not beside.

You lowered your hand.

“Let me put this another way for you, when you sit in your—” you looked him over, “meetings, and you attend your fancy work dinners, do you notice all the art around you? The furniture, the architecture, the choices made by your colleagues to look expensive. Do you stop to take it all in or does it become lost in singular shades of monotony?”

Wriothesley pictured the blues and greens of his life but dismissed the idea of you understanding his thoughts. “You don’t make millions by not noticing.”

You shrugged. “But you do become numb to it.”

“Correct me if I am wrong, but you’re saying that the whole room is art?”

Wriothesley couldn’t say that he was fond of modern art, but he did appreciate that it had a time and place.

“This room, stark and colourless, is as much a part of the painting as the painting itself. Without the painting, the room remains devoid of colour, but with it, the room comes to life. It’s as if the artist intended the painting to be a guide in an otherwise monochrome world. By which, you who see it realise that the painting was never confined to the canvas. But can see the beauty of the entire world, in all lifetimes, across universes. Or maybe it is something completely different, art is subjective after all.”

“To you, the world must be a beautiful place,” he mused aloud.

“And yours is not?”

He chuckled, “I can assure you it’s not as vibrant as yours.”

“What makes you think that mine is vibrant? What if mine is like this room? Bland and empty.”

He wouldn’t believe it, but then again, he wouldn’t not believe it either. It was always the people with the brightest souls who hurt the most.

“I’ll do you one better. What if it’s mine?” he asked.

“Are you seeing your golden star right now then, mister?”

“It’s Wriothesley, and maybe.”

Wriothesley noticed your eyes widen briefly before you suppressed a small smile and took a step back. “Well Wriothesley, I’ll have to agree. It is yours. It’s your mind, your world. The painting is your universe. At least that’s how I think the artist intended it.”

“There is no artist,” he said.

You tilted your head to the side slightly and clasped your hands behind your back.

“There always is,” you said and glanced back at him before returning to the painting. “If you have the time to hear about them, I will gladly tell you.”

In his pocket, his phone rang, filling the silent room. His time was up once again.

“Next time,” he said.

A sadness flashed across your eyes before you smiled.

“Sure,” you said.

A month passed, and the sad lingering look in your eyes haunted Wriothesley through his blue days. Green still rained from the sky, but every time he caught a glimmer of gold passing his office or on the street, he’d imagine it was you.

On a random Wednesday in Winter, one that felt more azure than usual, Wriothesley came again to the gallery. But this time, the white room was filled with modern paintings. Gone was the white ball and the night sky painting, and you. Gone was the security guard who would grumble every time Wriothesley dropped a small wad of mora in the man’s hand to let him into the paid exhibit. In its place, people heaved; phone cameras flashed and made snapping noises as they posed before the art, hoping to add it to their social media feed. Wriothesley didn’t enter the room; he couldn’t. He didn’t like crowded places, and none of the art was of interest to him. And none of them were you.

Wriothesley cleared his throat and straightened his tie as he approached the help desk by the entrance of the gallery. Behind it sat an older man, staring down at his mobile phone, humming along to a Vocaloid song that played in his earbuds. Beside him, a younger man, barely eighteen, who looked excited at the possibility of not staring into space any longer, waved Wriothesley over.

“Can I help you, sir?” the young man said. His name card, Timmie, glimmered under the artificial light.

“Yes, I think you can,” Wriothesley began. “There was an exhibit here about a month ago. One with a singular painting in it—no artist.” He wanted to ask about you but thought better than to do that.

“No artist?” Timmie asked.

“Yes, no artist.”

Timmie rubbed the back of his neck as if he couldn’t comprehend the idea of an exhibition without an artist.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“I am.”

After apologising quickly, he began typing aggressively at his keyboard. Typing and then deleting and typing again. Presumably, he was bringing up the list of art that had been exhibited over the last year. Wriothesley waited, tapping his foot, and watching people pass, nodding at the occasional person who stared.

“I’m sorry, Sir, I can’t seem to find the exhibit you are talking about.”

Wriothesley frowned.

“Oh? But it was here last month?”

“It’s not showing up on my files without an artist’s name unless you remember the name of the piece?”

“To you in every universe,” Wriothesley said, remembering only the colour of your eyes and the gold aura that seemed to follow you. He was sure he’d remember that name until all the stars left the sky.

Timmie typed it out, and for a second, Wriothesley had hope. Until Timmie looked up and said, “Oh, that. It’s moved temporarily to the International Modern Art Gallery in Inazuma.”

“Inazuma?”

Timmie nodded.

“As has the artist,” His eyes widened. “Who would have thought? She’s one of our own.”

Wriothesley perked up at the information.

“Did you happen to have her name by any chance so I might look her up?” Wriothesley asked, trying to mask his desperation with cool indifference.

“I mean if you want,” Timmie said.

In the art shop attached to the gallery on an emerald Friday, more than a year later in Spring, Wriothesley found you assisting an elderly woman, wrapping a print of a painting. He paused, captivated by the sight of you. You were even more stunning despite the time passed and in comparison to the modelesque women he saw in his everyday life. Your beauty, accentuated by the soft lighting of the shop, and your radiant smile, seemed to light him up inside. He lingered amongst the shelves waiting for you to finish up with the elder woman, who was eagerly telling you about her seventh great-grandchild, to which you seemed to listen with just as much interest. He found himself mirroring your joy as he admired you until he stumbled upon a postcard of the piece he had spent months searching for. The one that had moved to Inazuma, then to Mondstadt, then to Snezhnaya, Sumeru, and Natlan, till he bought it at an auction, white room, giant spinning ball, blue painting, plaques, and all. In this picture, the last plaque was too small to be noticed, just as it had been when he’d stared at it both times in person. But he knew it was there, the final part of the collection of plaques. And the full name of the exhibition.

When the elderly woman left, he approached you, his eyes locked on you who had become his universe.

You looked up and smiled, “It’s a beautiful piece,” you said, gesturing to the postcard in his hand.

“It is,” Wriothesley replied, his gaze fixed on you rather than the inferior postcard print. Nothing could compare to the real thing. “But the exhibition has gone.”

“It has,” you confirmed. He was sure you knew that it was him who bought it. It wasn’t hard to figure out, he was obvious despite his outward coolness.

“Are you leaving too?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice. He had thought you were a dream. You’d been gone for so long that he feared he would have to wait a lifetime.

“Why?”

“You weren’t here,” he said, trying to keep his voice casual.

“I was volunteering at a cat shelter,” you lied. “Did you miss me?”

“Mildly,” he responded, though he too was lying.

“Only mildly?”

He laughed, “Okay, maybe a bit more—”

“Just a bit?” you interrupted, your eyes sparkling.

“I missed your commentary,” he admitted.

“My commentary? Wow,” you said, feigning surprise.

“Oh? Not enough for you?”

You shook your head, your eyes dancing with mirth. He pretended to think, but in truth, he was searching for a simple way to express such complex emotions.

“I missed your sunny presence,” he finally said.

“My sunny presence?” you echoed.

“Are you going to keep repeating everything I say?” he asked, unable to suppress his smile.

“Maybe,” You leaned forward on the counter, your intelligent eyes tearing down his icy walls. “What have you been up to? Aside from missing me, of course.”

“I just abandoned a meeting to chase after a shooting star,” Wriothesley confessed, for once wearing his heart on his sleeve.

“And? Did you catch it?”

“Half of it,” he affirmed. “When does your shift end?”

“I’m just finishing. Why?” you asked, curiosity piqued.

“I was wondering if you’d like to grab a coffee with me?” he proposed, hoping he wasn’t too late. He’d already blocked off the rest of the night. He’d block off the rest of the year if he knew he’d get to spend it with you.

“I don’t like to drink coffee this late.”

“Tea, then? With dinner? I would love to hear about the artist of that piece. What was its full name again? For the painting and the room.”

“To you in every universe—” you began.

“For you, I’d steal the stars,” he finished. “Very sneaky of you by the way.”

Your lips parted as you took in a breath.

Wriothesley could feel every nerve in his body fighting to touch you, to be closer to you. You who brought gold into his monotonous world. You who he’d steal all the stars in the universe to be closer to.

“You know I never believed in coincidences,” Wriothesley said.

“Neither have I,” you said.

“I learned a long time ago that if you want something you have to fight for it. So, no pressure of course, but does tea and dinner sound good?”

Your grin was a small act that set his night sky ablaze with more glimmers of gold. To him, the shop couldn’t be filled with any more colours than they were then. Gone were the shades of green and blue, washed away by a spectrum of magnificence; where suddenly he was him and you were you, existing in the same universe.

“It sounds perfect,” you said.

╰────────────────────────╯

KO-FI MASTERLIST

#wriothesley imagines #genshin fanfic #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #wriothesley fanfic #genshin drabbles #wriothesley #wriothesley fluff

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solarmorrigan · 1 month

Note

💗

Hello! :D Thank you for the prompt! Just a short thing this time, but hopefully it suits

Prompt from this post

CW: References to sex, nothing explicit

There is a part of Eddie—a not insignificant part—that wants to devour Steve.

He wants to push and he wants to take. He wants to press Steve back and hold him down and take biting kisses from his lips and suck bruises in the shape of his mouth all over Steve’s skin and keep him there until he’s wrung so much pleasure from him that he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

And Steve would let him – Eddie knows he would. He would yield so beautifully, he would go down if Eddie pushed him, and he would give Eddie all of his sweet noises and offer himself up, offer his skin as a canvas for Eddie to leave all the marks he wants, all the reminders he wants Steve to carry with him to tell him that he is desired and he is loved.

But there is another part of Eddie—slightly larger, and thus in charge—that knows that isn’t what Steve needs.

Rough is what Steve is used to. Violent and intense is what he’s come to expect. He fights back because the rest of the world keeps hitting first– but that isn’t what he wants. That isn’t what he wants to be.

He wants soft. He wants gentle. He wants to hold without hurting, wants to be held without being hurt.

And Eddie wants to give him everything he wants. Everything he deserves.

So he cradles Steve’s face in his hands when they kiss, keeps his touch so light as to almost be reverent, presses his lips to Steve’s in one soft, chaste kiss after another, gentle and slow and sweet until Steve opens his eyes and stares at him in dazed and loving wonder.

And Eddie knows then that he’s gotten it just right.

#zerokrox-blog #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddiesteve #solar wrote #answers from solar

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fixyourwritinghabits · 11 months

Note

I noticed many of the protagonists I wrote or thought of writing had either no personality or one too self-inserted (sometimes somewhere in between) and now I can't really connect with the protagonists I write so I wanted to know if you have any advice to help me craft more distinct characters and get attached to them.

First, some homework - pluck out about five pieces of media and nail down what you like about the protagonists within.

What about them appeals to you in particular?

Did you like how they grew and changed?

What struggles did they tackle that only they could handle?

Doesn't have to be neat and orderly, just try to nail down what really appeals to you about your favorite characters. When it comes to your own characters, here are some more things to think about:

Are you writing the character you want to write, or are you writing the character you think you should write? You may not be able to connect to your characters because you're trying to make them something you think they should be rather than what you'd feel more comfortable writing.

Are you projecting your feelings on a larger canvas (aka write what you know)? Are you thinking about how your characters would feel in bombastic circumstances (fighting a dragon, running from the cybercops) based on experiences and emotions you've had (facing off with a teacher, hopefully not running from the real cops but hey, you do what you gotta). The best way to infuse your characters with appeal is to take an emotion or an experience you can relate to and projecting it onto your characters.

Do your characters have internal struggles to go with their external ones? Is that high-stakes heist also paired with the character's struggle to display his real emotions? Does the fight with the evil wizard reflect the character's struggles to connect to their dad? If your story is external-plot heavy, a good way to flesh out the characters within is to connect their internal wants/needs/desires with the events going on around them. That zombie fight could be all the more enticing if the main couple is having a massive break-up during it.

Figuring out how to write a protagonist is often more than filling out a character sheet. Great if you can do that (I can't so like, go brag about it somewhere else), but often times you'll have to flesh out the character the hard way, but plotting out their journey before you write it. Work on their inner needs and emotional battles to draw them out as people.

Don't know where to start with figuring out a character at all? Grab an archetype list and get mixing and mashing. You may not come up with usable ideas right away, but you'll be able to pick out the ideas that appear to you until you have a handy list of things to lean on. Tropes are tools to be used, after all, and anything that could add to your characters is a tool with keeping. Good luck!

#characters #plotting #planning

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captain-hen · 11 months

Photo

BUCK & EDDIE IN EVERY EPISODE ↳ 6.13: mixed feelings (2/3)

[Image Description: 10 gifs of Evan Buckley and Eddie Diaz from 9-1-1, season 6, episode 13.

Gif 1: Two gifs on a large canvas. The first gif, a shot of Buck and Eddie standing amongst the other firefighters in the loft in the station, looking satisfied as they wave their hands. Eddie says, "Okay. Come on, pay up." Buck says, "Let me see it. Yeah." Second, a shot of Buck and Eddie walking close together as Eddie neatly snatches the money out of Buck's hand, saying, "A fool and his money are soon...parted."

Gif 2: Two gifs on a large canvas. The first gif, the camera panning down to reveal Buck and Eddie, walking through an alley. Eddie is dressed in a blue suit jacket and a black turtleneck; Buck is wearing a burgundy suit jacket over a black button-up. Buck adjusts his jacket as he asks Eddie, who is on his phone, "So, what's with the fancy dress code?" The second gif, Eddie tucks his phone into his inner pocket, saying, "It's a nice place," as Buck continues to stare at him in confusion.

Gif 3: Two gifs on a large canvas. The first gif, looking hesitant, Buck stops Eddie, who turns around to face him with a sigh. Buck says, "Wait, wait. H—Hey, a—are we sure about this?" The second gif, Eddie reassures Buck, "Relax. It's a good place to put your new skills to use. Then maybe we can put 'em to use in Vegas."

Gif 4: Two gifs on a large canvas. The first gif, standing with his back yo the delivery entrance of a restaurant, Eddie says to Buck, who has just said that this is not gonna end well, "It's a low-stakes game." The second gif, a shot of Buck and Eddie next to each other, Eddie with a small smile, Buck looking startled, at the sight of Julie Rosen, who opened the door for them.

Gif 5: 2 small gifs, and one larger one on a large canvas. The first gif, while following Eddie and Julie into the restaurant, looking slightly alarmed, Buck whispers to Eddie, "Uh, hey, this isn't some kind of mob establishment, is it?" The second gif, Eddie looks over his shoulder at Buck, amused, and says, "It's a different kind of family." The third gif, the scene opens into a fancy-looking bar with warm and muted lighting. Buck pauses at the foot of the stares, smiling in surprise. Eddie walks over to greet the others with a wide smile.

Gif 6: Two gifs on a large canvas. The first gif, a shot of Captain Mehta, who winks at Eddie as he shakes his hand. The shot cuts to Buck, watching them, his smile fading slightly. The second gif, Eddie is already seated at a poker table, next to Julie. Buck makes to sit down close next to him.

Gif 7: Two gifs on a large canvas. The first gif, Mehta has just said that he can't believe Buck survived the lightning strike, to which Chief Williams replies, "Let's see if he survives tonight." Eddie smiles fondly at Buck, scrunching up his face when Buck turns his head to look at him. The second gif, Eddie in focus in the background of the shot as he corrects Chief Williams by saying that Buck was dead for three minutes and seventeen seconds. Buck is blurred in the periphery of the shot, looking serious and somber.

Gif 8: Two gifs on a large canvas. The first gif, a shot of Buck and Eddie sitting close together, Eddie raising his eyerbows at Chief Williams and Buck looking up at her, slightly alarmed. The second gif, Eddie watches intently as Buck pulls over a pile of chips to himself after winning the first round.

Gif 9: Two gifs on a large canvas. The first gif, Chief Williams has just said, "I've heard people that get struck by lightning sometimes develop special skills." Buck's eyes slightly widen and he glances over at Eddie before asking, "Uh...skills? Like, uh...like what? Woodworking?" The second gif, Buck looks over at Eddie again after Chief Williams says, "High-functioning stuff, like languages or music. Or math. You know, counting." The shot cuts to Eddie who swallows slightly as he says, "I'm out. Too rich for my blood."

Gif 10: Two gifs on a large canvas. The first gif, a shot of Buck leaning his head on his hand, smirking cockily at Williams and Mehta. It cuts to Eddie, now standing behind him, a gentle smile on his face. The second gif, after Buck sweeps the table yet again, it pans to Eddie smiling brightly and then turning and ducking his head.

/End ID]

#scheduled post #911edit #911 fox #*#tuserksn #userisha #usermaripal #userkourt #useralie #userceecee #usertriz #userpaolo #usercorinne #alielook #evanbuckleyedit #eddiediazedit #*buddie #buddiedit #tuserdaria

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tenderfxck · 1 year

Text

al haitham would be such a sore loser.

he picks and chooses so carefully what battles he takes on to assure his victory.

until little unassuming you waltzes up to him one night in the bar, challenging him to a drinking game. the prize? whatever the victor wants to be fulfilled by the loser.

what’s the risk? he’s larger than you so al haitham knows he can process the liquor more efficiently than you can. he drinks wine often enough so he knows that he has some tolerance at least. it’s logical, is it not?

cut to him, face flushed, head slumped against the table top, head swimming from the alcohol rushing straight to his head and other parts of his body he’d rather not admit. he inhales deeply, picking the scent of your cologne out from the deep odor of alcohol pervading his senses. he leans closer, sensing the warmth of you so near to him.

"mr. scribe, you never answered my question."

oh archons. you were prattling on about art or composition or some inane thing you always talk too long about. how could he focus on your words when the lips they come from could be put to a better use?

you sensed his drunken mind had wandered from the conversation, so you decided to steer it back to your little competition.

“another round?” you asked clutching another shot glass, rosy-cheeked and smiling wide. you suspected this self-proclaimed “feeble scholar” couldn’t take another drop.

he groans. it’s not a yes or a no, but it’s definitely a sound of resignation.

“good effort.” you coo, pressing the bottle to your lips, emptying the last of its contents in one swift motion. “but i believe i win, mr. scribe.”

“fine.” he hiccups, barely able to piece together the words. “i-i secede.” he lifts his head, green eyes finally focusing on your face across the intimate table you had found yourselves at.

his gaze met with a look on your face he couldn’t quite place. Determined with dark eyes.

“i demand my winnings then.”

“archons. . .” he groans. what will it be? a ticket into the akademy’s private library? buying you drinks for the month? him to be your personal butler for the day?

“come with me.” you whisper, grasping him by the hand.

he follows with surprisingly little fuss until he ends up in a dim, secluded corner of the bar, somehow seated in a chair and looking up at you.

he had half a mind to question what inane scheme you were plotting until he suddenly felt you mount his lap, catching his lips in a deep kiss before he could make a noise of surprise.

archons. he swears that even the liquor on your tongue, can’t overpower the overwhelming taste of you.

it’s quick, it’s needy, it’s lewd the way your tongue swipes along his lips, soft thighs straddling his while your body moves so provocatively against him. he breaks the kiss moments later, puffing for air as he feels your hips shifting so purposefully against his.

fuck. he’s dreamed about something exactly like this before. finally having you sat on his lap, all to himself, grinding so sweetly against his now aching erection. you’d look so pretty out of those clothes, bouncing on his lap, cumming on his cock.

the parting of your lips didn’t last long before you found another expanse of skin to entertain yourself with. you dipped your head, laying a few kisses along the column of his throat as your fingers deftly peeled his collar from his neck. his adam’s apple bobbed in anticipation, breath ragged before catching all together. a surprised moan escaped him as you finally latched on to his neck, sucking a pretty little hickey onto the canvas of his pale skin.

his mind moved too quick, and the reactions from his body weren’t too far behind. he was trembling beneath you, pitifully bucking his hips up to meet yours. his hands which previously remained white knuckled to the side of seat finally moved, reaching up to cup your plush ass and give it a healthy squeeze.

“m-more. . .” is the only word he could form, a small trail of drool sliding from his panting mouth down his chin.

“oh, haitham, poor thing.”

you suddenly remove yourself, al haitham groaning as you stand, sent absolutely reeling from the loss of you.

“we can finish this little encounter somewhere a little more secluded tomorrow evening. I’ll cash out my prize in full.”

he sits disheveled in that chair, cock pressing hard against his pants, dumbly watching as you turn heel, pay your tab, and walk right out into the cool night.

. . .

after regaining enough composure to stand, al haitham returns home in a huff, not even acknowledging his roommate’s greeting before he locks himself in his room. he roughly shucks off his shirt and shoes before falling onto his bed, palming at the tent in his boxers that has been plaguing him since he got the hell out of that bar.

al haitham lets out a heaving sigh, dragging his pants and sash from his waist, indulging himself in desires a more sober version of himself would be too proud and oblivious to yield to in a bout of burning desire.

#sorry for being such a tease al haitham ;P #i swear i’m working on a big al haitham post rn please bear with me #tender thoughts #al haitham x y/n #alhaitham #alhaitham x y/n #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x you #alhaitham x you #al haitham smut #alhaitham smut

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nyxhaven · 6 months

Text

Seeking A Warm Body (gale x gn reader smut 18+)

On a frigid and rain-soaked night in camp, Tav's thoughts turn to the possibility of sharing a tent with their charismatic fellow traveler, Gale, purely for warmth. As the relentless downpour intensifies, Tav contemplates the unspoken connection between them, wondering if their camaraderie might evolve into something more. With a surge of courage, Tav approaches Gale's tent, seeking solace from the bitter cold, and in the cozy confines of shared warmth, they discover that sometimes, on a night as raw and unpredictable as this one, the line between friendship and something deeper blurs in the soft glow of lantern light.

Amid the persistent drumming of raindrops on the canvas tents, Tav sat by the flickering glow of a campfire, shivering slightly as the chill of the night seeped into their bones. They stared into the dancing flames, lost in thought. Across the camp, Gale, their adventurous and enigmatic companion, was huddled under a separate tent, their silhouette barely visible through the rain-smeared fabric.

Tav's thoughts wandered as they considered the idea of sharing a tent with Gale. It wasn't unusual for travelers to bunk together for warmth on such a cold, wet night. The rain had been falling steadily since the late afternoon, turning the camp into a mud-soaked quagmire. The campfire, though valiant in its efforts, provided limited respite from the pervasive dampness.

Tav stole a glance towards Gale's tent. Was it mere practicality that kept them apart, or was there something more? Gale was known for their cheerful demeanor and their charismatic tales around the campfire, but Tav had sensed something deeper in the glances and smiles exchanged between them. A connection that went beyond the camaraderie of fellow travelers.

The rain intensified, its pitter-patter on the tent turning into a persistent hiss. Tav felt a shiver run down their spine, and with each passing minute, the idea of sharing a tent for warmth became more appealing. They took a deep breath and gathered the courage to approach Gale's tent.

As they unzipped the flap and entered, the dim light from a lantern revealed Gale huddled in a bed roll, reading a weathered old book. Startled, Gale looked up, their eyes wide with surprise.

Tav cleared their throat, trying to sound nonchalant. "It's getting really cold out there, and my tent feels like an icebox. Would you mind if I joined you for a bit, just to stay warm?"

Gale's face broke into a warm smile, their eyes crinkling at the corners. "Of course, Tav, come on in. It's a tight fit, but I think we'll manage."

With a grateful nod, Tav zipped up the tent, now only realizing gales magic hes used to make the inside of his tent much larger then it looks on the outside and they settled in close, the warmth of the bed roll providing an instant respite from the bitter cold. The rain continued to pour outside, but within the cozy confines of the tent, Tav and Gale found them selves face to faces their noses grazing each others. Gale couldn’t help himself from smiling.

“you look very pretty tonight tav.” gale states holding his breath in response.

“thank you Gale, you’re always so kind to me. you’re not half bad looking either.” Tav jest getting a laugh from the both of them.

gale reaches over him, leaning himself close over the top of Tav. tav can feel his breath on their ear as he dims the latern down. “let’s make it more comfortable, is this nice?” gale says low and softly.

Gales voice sends a shiver down your spine. “Thank you for letting me stay the night.”

“stay as many nights as you wish in these walls.” Gale replies cupping tavs face, the water droplets on Tavs eyelashes fell to their face when they blinked. still damp from the elements gale wipes the water droplets off their cheeks. Gale noticed Tavs eyes for all they were illuminated dimly by the lantern. Gale chewed on his bottom lip. his hand slid back and begins to rub Tavs earlope softly. His hand slids its way down the side of Tavs body, stopping at his waist he pulls Tav in. Their bodies pressed close in the bed roll. “by the gods you are cold, You shoulda come in sooner.” Gale says caringly

Gale leans into kiss Tav pulling them in there lips meeting. Gales kiss start soft, and careful. Quickly they become sloppy and deep with passion. Tav doesn't see gale like this, possesive, he has your attention and doesn't want to loose it. Tav follows the tango with gales mouth, giving in to his urges. Gales hand explore Tavs back finding the small of it, pulling Tav into him, placing his leg between Tavs. Gales fingers find the hem of their shirt pulling the wet clothes over Tavs head exposing their bare chest. Gale immediately places kisses down their chest like he's claiming Tav all for his greedy self. Tavs hips grind against gales thigh placed between their heat. Luckily for Tav their pants are already partly wet as they are already wet with excitement.

Gales finger play at the waistband of tavs pants. Wanting to get the wet leather off their soft skin, he unbuttoned Tavs pants. Almost whining into the kisses begging Tav. Tav pulls the soft velvet tunic of over gales head. “Take your pants of Gale” tav whispers against his soft scruff.

Gale lifts his hips and pulls his trousers and briefs down kicking them off to the side of the tent somewhere. Tav follows suit balling up their wet clothes throwing them back into the cold. Now both naked gale lays over Tav holding himself up, looking down at them Gale reignites the passionate kissing.

“I want you Gale.” Tav says softly.

“Im all yours already, you just didn't see it.”

“Please just go slow, I haven't done this in a while.” (pov switch)

“No need to worry when you are in my arms.” Gale says kissing your lips. “Just watch me, now spit.” Gale says holding his cupped hand below your chin. Meeting his desires, he adds his own saliva to his hand before leaning back using his spare hand he pushes his hair out of his face painting, the gale that stood before you was not the gale you saw in the daylight with your companions, no, Gale was nothing but a acolyte ready to worship his God. Wetting his cock with the handful of your spit he using the remainder of your slick to wet the skin around your hole. You feel the calloused fingers of the scholared wizard tease you before slipping his middle finger into you, slightly pulling it out before reinserting it.

“You alright?” Gale checks in. You nod as your breath hitches as you tighten around his knuckle. “Wonderful”

Gale slips another finger into you stretching you out before setting a steady pace watching you pant, studying you like an ancient tome, learning where you like to feel his long fingers explore inside you. Pulling his fingers out he holds them up to his lips. Making eye contact his sucks yours and his juices of his fingers. Grabbing your ankle and setting it on his shoulder his pulls your hips into him. He places the head of his large dick on your hole. “Youre gonna be so good for me, I'll go slow, just breathe.” you realize how just how thick the girth of gales cock is as it rest, ready to enter you. Gale slowly prods the tip inside you, stretching you hole around the length of Gale. The heat of the moment fills the tent, the thunder in the back round rolling as Gale brought himself out and buried himself back again inside you.

You let out a flurry of deep breaths and gales name. Luckily the rain beat the canvas tent shielding your mess of joined moans from your companions sleeping in tents just feet away. Gales dick thrust into you finding the spot that makes you dig you nails into his arm. Gales pelvis slaps into your ass as he holds your leg up against him allowing him to enter deeper into you. Your walls tighten around him, looking up, gales hair falling into his face, his neck and pecks beaded with sweat. He has an intense look on his face as he focuses on making the person he's with feel pleasure. Feeling his full length in you brings the wave of your orgasm rushing in. Letting out a loud moan gales name makes its way to your lips you ride the waves of pleasure from your orgasm. Gale removes his cock pumping it over your center releasing a large load across your stomach. Gales hips buck into his hand as he leaks his final bit of semen.

Gale grabs his tunic he had thrown on he ground and cleans you up nicely and gently, tossing it back aside Gale settles back into the bedroll and holds you in his arm. He traces his finger over your skin as you listen to the rain and thunder. Gale whispers sweet nothings praising you for how good you did before dozing off ready for the next day. Thankful for the warm body Gale provided on a rainy night.

A/N had the day off enjoy this quick one shot, lemme know who to write next pls! I'm thinking probably halsin 🐻🍯

#bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x gn!reader #gale x reader #gale x tav #gale baldurs gate 3 #gale bg3 #smut #fanfic

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buwheal · 18 days

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no because what the FUCK dude!!!!! these are warmups. Because i have to start storyboarding. But.... i think. maybe. the nature of the pixel art style in the askbox is making the way i draw him in the askbox more rigid and flat. And also in general. (aha cutting this off below because i started rambling a bit X-P)

I dont play around with the lines and shapes usually because when i do the lines looked all gross because of the pixel style, and i swear to god its infecting the way i draw him normally. I DONT WANT him to look rigid!!! Hes blocky yeah and hes been puppetified but i save the rigid hollow look for NEO... thats on purpose. I dont want him to look like that regularly though :-( I want his shapes and i keep accidentally making them stiff and boring in an attempt at consistency.. but i can be consistent without that. And i know that. Because i literally have been. His teeth especially kick my ass, theyre sometimes way too disporportionally big or too tapered... and i dont ever like,, play with the shapes they can do. i dont have to follow realistic logic because hes not real obv. I can use cartoon logic for him especially because hes that type of guy. You guys probably have no clue what im talking about lmfao it probably looks the same. Ggrrrgghhhhrghh. I am genuinely contemplating switching it up to either a larger canvas size again or just.. not making spam himself pixely. I still do like the pixel look because i wanted it to mimic the shop sprites and i think thats also a really unique feature of the askbox but... idfk. I should attempt it again first though, before i do something like that. Who knows, maybe ill figure it out lol. i probably will find a solution though.

#world is fucked and Spamton is hard asf to draw #teehee hes so cute.. maybe ill let him have a little cheeks. Still no tongue but maybe no inner cheek was too much... let the guy eat witho #without it spilling everywhere lmfao.#wagh//#also ew need to touchup my pfp he looks freakkkyyy

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thewritetofreespeech · 5 days

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Could I request Alucard (Castlevania) finding his beloved's art room, that is filled with various forms of art of him? Paintings, sculptures, poems, etc.

He doesn’t want to use the term ‘stalking in the night’ because he feels like it’s a trope for half of his blood line and Alucard doesn’t like stereotypes. But that was what he was doing.

It wasn’t for anything nefarious though. Night after night, his beloved would sneak off into some dark, deserted portion of the castle alone. With just the two of them there were a lot of spaces like this in his father’s old home. It also wasn’t as if they needed to spend all of their time together. Alucard appreciated that people needed & desired space. He himself needed it from time to time. It was just the pattern that had left him curious.

With his natural born stealth and tactical advantage of growing up in the castle, Alucard followed just behind them as they walked through the dark corridors and through one large, old, heavy door near the end. Almost forgotten by everyone. The dhampir arched a manicured brow and gave them a moment, and when they didn’t come out Alucard pressed on. Opening the door with much more ease and finding the room filled with a surprising amount of light despite it’s clutter. “What are you doing in here?”

He heard his lover shriek once in surprise, and something like sticks fall on the ground before it was followed by a larger commotion. “Damnit!” They cursed before they picked up what fell as Alucard came closer. A canvas and paint brushes now right side up off the floor. “What are you doing here?!”

“I asked you first.” Alucard told them as he looked around. “What is all this?”

He knew the castle very well. Although there were secrets his father kept from him, a vaults worth of art was not among them. Before he changed Dracula was actually a great patron of the arts. Finding beauty in almost all artistic expressions. So this was a new addition to his childhood home.

“It’s just…a hobby.” They confessed. “I find it soothing.”

“Art can have that effect on people.” He agreed as he looked at one of the pieces. Like his father, he liked art, but had no knack for it. Only the art for the sword had been his gift. “I meant more what is all this doing here? Why hide all this?”

“I don’t know.” They told him honestly. “I guess I just thought they weren’t very good.”

‘Not very good?’ Alucard arched his brow again as he looked at the works around the room. They were all wonderful. Even the unfinished pieces. “I never made any money selling them. And no one ever seemed interested in my art. So I just keep them here. I don’t have the heart to throw them away.”

“People are philistines. And you shouldn’t throw them away.”

Alucard picked up one of the landscapes and looked at it. He remembered this place. From one of their travels. “Can we put this in the dinning room?”

They seemed surprised by his ask. “You want to?”

“I liked this lake. Those trees. I’d like to remember it while we have meals. Think on that picnic.”

He went through the other pieces and asked if he could put up more. They weren’t his to decide what to do with, but he wanted them to encourage them to put it out. “Are you planning on turning the castle into my debut gallery?” They finally ask.

“If you’d let me.” Alucard replied after he’d collected over a dozen paintings, sculptures, and displays to bring out into the light. “Or at least a private gallery.”

They blushed but let him continue to go through the pieces. When he was done, Alucard came over and gave them a soft kiss. “You should never feel that your talent is less than. Your work is incredible. You’re incredible. You shouldn’t keep it in these dusty rooms for no one to see.”

He took the original picture he selected and left. Giving them privacy to paint while he went to hang this in its proper place in the dining room. He’d come back for the others later. Ready to bring them into the light, when they were ready.

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#castlevania #alucard castlevania #castlevania alucard #castlevania scenarios #castlevania imagine #alucard x reader #castlevania alucard x reader #castlevania x reader #imagine #scenarios #castlevania imagines #adrian tepes #adrian fahrenheit tepes

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theslut4smut · 6 months

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𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗿𝘁 | 𝗵𝘄𝗮𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻𝗷𝗶𝗻

𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗴𝗼𝗿𝘆: fluff & smut

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: hyunjin uses his wonderful artistic skills to make his sweet y/n realize how beautiful her body is when she becomes ridden with insecurity

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 4.5k

𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲𝘀: afab reader, curvy/heavier/plus sized reader, insecure reader, sub!reader, i don’t even wanna say softdom!hyunjin… he’s just the sweetest and mushiest little gumdrop that is trying to make you smile and cum simultaneously, terms of endearment, lots of “i love you” ’s, some tears, kissing, oral (f receiving), fingering, sweet ol’ missionary 🥹, USES YOU LIKE A CANVAS!!!

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: this was requested!! to the sweet little baby anony that requested this, i hope you don’t mind that i added more of an overall body insecurity. of course i will still mention hyunjin loving that big ol’ booty like you asked, but i felt the story would be too short with just that.

i’m a chubby fat girl myself, so this should be ✨ healing ✨

also!

my second hyunjin story! and it’s another insecurity reassurance one 🥺🤧

_____________________________________

you peek into the somewhat messy room. canvases of different sizes leaned against the walls, used paintbrushes in tubs of water, tubes and buckets of paints scattered along the floor.

hyunjin’s safe space.

the room he’d go to when he felt overwhelmed or stressed, excited, inspired.

you look over to him sitting in his chair in front of a large canvas, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he twists and twirls the brush in between his fingertips.

he was so handsome like this.

you make your way over to him and hold up the bowl of fruit you had prepared for him in his line of sight.

he snaps out of his focused state. “ah.” he says, smiling excitedly before putting the brush down.

he places an orange slice into his mouth, closing his eyes and letting out a hum of approval. “fruit is always so much better when you give it to me.”

you laugh softly. “all i do is cut it.”

“mm, well you’re a great cutter.”

you give him a playful eyeroll before turning to look at the progress of his creation that only had a few strokes near the bottom.

“what is it gonna be?” you ask, tilting your head to the side.

he takes the bowl from your hands and sets it on the desk in front of him. “a surprise for you.”

you look at him with wide and sparkling eyes. “for me?”

“don’t act like i haven’t made you hundreds of them already.” he says, laughing softly as he wiped his brush on a stained cloth.

“i know.” you start, turning back to the painting. “but it makes me feel so special every time.”

he places a hand on your bottom, rubbing his palm on it in circles. “you are special.”

you feel your body stiffen as he continues to touch you. as much as you loved hyunjin’s affection, you had been struggling with insecurity for the past couple of weeks and it was causing you to not want to be felt or even perceived by him.

of course he had respected the lack of intimacy the two of you had shared in recent time, not questioning the excuses you had when you stopped moments that were becoming intense.

it made you feel miserable. not allowing yourself to kiss, caress or savor hyunjin the way you so desperately craved.

hiding yourself behind baggy clothing of either yours or his just to not be seen. eating only enough to survive instead of what was satisfying.

you knew that you didn’t have to hide yourself away like this. being a larger girl was something you were always self conscious about.

and despite those insecurities, hyunjin did nothing but show love and admiration for them.

you were one thousand percent certain that you were loved and that he would never see you the way you see yourself, but it was just too hard to fully accept.

you reach around to his hand that was still playing with your bottom and interlock your fingers with his, pulling it up to kiss his knuckles.

he closes his eyes and smiles at you.

“i’m only allowing you in here because you can’t tell what it is yet.” he says.

you giggle.

he grabs you by the waist and turns you around to look at him.

he pats his thigh as he looks up at you. “c’mere, baby.” he says softly.

“no, it’s okay.” you say, rubbing your lips together as you try to keep your composure.

he shakes his head as he furrows his brows. “you love to sit on my lap while i paint.”

you begin to pick and pull at your fingers as you think of excuses.

“i can’t watch you, it’s a surprise.” you stammer.

he sighs with a laugh as he shakes his head again, grabbing your hand. “i’m just placing the base color today. you won’t be able to tell.”

he begins to pull you into him, puckering his lips to kiss you.

“i-i don’t even wanna see that.” you dig your heels into the groan.

“angel, it’s fine.” he says, using more of his strength to bring you closer.

“hyunjin, please!”

he immediately stops, giving you a concerned look.

“i’m not sitting on you, hyunjin. i cannot sit on you.” you exhale deeply as you place your hair behind your ears and cross your arms over your chest.

he lets go of you, placing both hands on his knees. “you don’t want to or you can’t?”

you close your eyes as you let out a shaky breath. “i… can’t.”

he leans closer, poking his cheek with his tongue. “and why can’t you?”

“i’m… ”

“you’ll hurt me because you’re too heavy?”

you bite the inside of your cheek.

he sighs as he rubs his temples and closes his eyes. “god, y/n.”

he shakes his head as he looks around the room.

“what have i told you? what have i done to ever make you feel like you’re not able to relax and accept yourself?”

“it’s not anything you did, hyunjin.” you say softly.

he stands up and pulls you into him, caressing your hair as you lay against his chest. “i wish you could see yourself the way i do.”

you move your head, your chin pressing into him as you look up into his eyes.

“i think you’re so perfect. inside and out.”

you smile sweetly as he continues.

“everything about you, i adore. your smile, your laugh, your voice, the way you hold me.” he kisses your forehead softly. “i don’t care what you think, your body is gorgeous. desirable. it’s beautiful because it belongs to you. and anything that has to do with you is everything i’ll ever want.”

you close your eyes as you shake your head slightly.

“yes.” he says, holding your face with his hands. “you don’t have to believe me for it to be true.”

“i know you mean it, but it’s been so hard.” your voice cracks slightly.

“baby.” he wraps his arms tighter around you as he places kisses into your hair.

you squeeze onto him desperately, feeling as if you hadn't experienced the sensation of his body on yours in ages.

all of the horrible and intrusive thoughts that had been clouding your mind for the last several days were finally silent as he held you in his embrace.

there was no need to ever feel insecure with a lover like hyunjin, but it was so difficult sometimes. it was clear he meant all of the praises he gave you. whether it be for your looks or what made you you. quirks, traits, habits.

you felt guilty for it not even being that serious. you were confident in who you were. you were never one to make jabs at yourself or feel incompetent. you gave yourself grace for making mistakes and congratulated yourself when you accomplished a task.

it was purely physical. you hated the way you looked.

life would just be so much easier in a smaller body.

and you knew how much that upset hyunjin too. he always talked about how cheap it was to value or prioritize appearance over well being and personality.

looks alter and change as time goes on, and it's such a waste of time to spend the years of your life that are filled with the most freedom and opportunity worried about whether or not people find you attractive.

you knew it wasn't important, but there was also a part of your mind that couldn't accept that it was okay to not stress about what size you were or the number on the scale.

you were always so close, yet so far.

the hardest part had to be the lack of intimacy. you wanted to throw all of your cares away and just let hyunjin have you the way he wanted, but something always held you back.

you missed his touch, the way he smelled, the feeling of the two of you becoming one.

you couldn't bare to go a second longer without him.

"hyunjin." you huff breathlessly as you dig your nails into the grey sweatshirt he was wearing.

he pulls away and looks down into your pleading eyes staring back up at him.

he places your hair behind your ears before pulling you in with his hand placed on the back of your head, ghosting his lips over yours. "can i take care of you, baby? i just want to make you feel better."

you let out a soft whine as you nod slightly.

he grabs your hand and pulls you beside him as he clears the tools and brushes from his desk.

he turns back to you and places his hands on either side of you, causing you to hold your breathe.

he notices, letting out a small sigh. "i can lift you, angel. you don't need to be scared."

you release a shaky breath as you looked down at your feet.

he redirects your gaze back onto him, cocking an eyebrow. "may i please?"

you fold your lips in before exhaling through your nose and nodding.

he smiles happily, lifting you up from the floor. you can feel your heart rate quicken as you watch his toned arms flex. it had been too long without him.

he places you onto the now clear surface, running a hand down your clothed body.

even with the barrier between the two of you, you could feel the jolts of electricity run through you.

you let out a soft moan.

he chuckles softly, pecking your lips. "can i take off a few layers, princess?"

you squeeze your eyes shut tightly as you nod.

"awe." he laughs an empathetic laugh as he caresses the side of your face. "it"s been so long, hasn't it, baby?"

"yes." you whine.

he begins to undress you, maintaining eye contact as he does.

"is this why you've been avoiding our special time?" he asks, rubbing his hand over your soft skin.

you nod as you pout.

"oh, baby." he coos. "i'm so sorry i didn't bring it up. i just assumed you wanted your space."

he stops inches away from your lips. you feel his breath fan against your face. "let me make it up to you."

before you can respond, his lips are on yours.

you sigh into the kiss as he gently pushes you to lay on your back.

the cool surface against your bare skin makes you hiss slightly, but you’re too distracted to pay that much attention to it.

he remains standing as he continues to make out with your soft and lust swollen lips.

“i missed you, my baby.” he says in between the smacking of your two mouths.

you let out a soft whine. “missed you.”

he giggles that cute giggle of his at how worked up you are just over kissing. it's been some time since the two of you had shared a moment like this.

he pulls away to admire you. the way your soft and supple skin glowed under the gentle morning sun that spilled in through the open window. stray pieces of hair that framed your red and pleasure covered face beautifully.

"hyunjin." you say, soft and needy. "i don't want all of the build up right now. i need you so bad."

he laughs through his nose before leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead. "i never want to deprive you, angel. just let me savor and take my time with you the way you deserve."

you let out a whine as you close your eyes and squeeze your thighs shut.

"you're just so... breathtaking." he says.

you keep your eyes shut as he continues on, trying to calm down as you feel yourself become more and more aroused.

"all of the art i’ve seen in my life, whether it be mine or someone else's. it could never, ever compare to you, my love."

"hyunjin-"

"ah." he stops you with a finger against your lips. "i wont argue with you. you cannot change the way i feel."

you can hear him shuffle through something on his desk before he begins to speak again.

"i've tried to encapsulate your beauty so many times before, but it simply cannot be replicated. no one could create your perfection on a canvas."

he's silent for a few moments before you feel cold paint touch the surface of your skin.

you gasp sharply as your eyes snap open.

"shh." he coos, using your chin to pull you in for a kiss. "i can't show how beautiful you are through a painting, so let me try it this way instead."

he leans down to kiss your exposed tummy, causing you to slightly push his head away.

his big brown eyes look up into yours.

“y/n, let me be creative with your body. have you see it the way i do. there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

he uses the pads of his fingers to gently outline the shape of your curves with the light pink shade, his eyes sparkling with love and admiration as he did.

“look at how beautiful this is, my love. the way you were created.”

you glance down yourself. even though it was nothing but simple tracing, he always managed to make things look so good. whether it was a sneaky doodle of you on a coffee shop napkin or a quick sketch of the sunset on the horizon, it was never sloppy.

“i love how full and soft you are, baby.” he starts, moving his fingers up to one of your nipples and swirling the paint, causing you to slightly twitch and sigh. “sensitive, too.”

he gently places his hands on both of your knees before spreading your legs and slightly lifting them to your chest.

you make an uncomfortable noise before turning your head away.

“what is it, my love?”

“i don’t like that.” you say softly with a slight crack in your voice.

“don’t like what?” he leans into you as he places a strand of hair behind your ear, observing your upset expression.

“the way my stomach does that.”

he furrows his brows before pulling away and looking down at your tummy. he places his hand on it before looking back up to you.

“the way it doubles into rolls, i- i hate that.”

“my tummy would do this too if i were in the same position as you.”

“hyunjin, that’s not the same. yours is not nearly as big as mine.”

he blinks at you without saying a word before dipping into more paint, swirling colors near your lower tummy and thighs.

you whine again.

“your skin being able to stretch and move to accommodate your needs is a blessing, angel. not something to feel distain towards.”

he begins to trace tulips and dandelions on your left thigh while gently kneading your right.

you huff and sigh as he does, not being able to handle his close proximity to your most aching part.

“i love the way your tummy folds like that.” he says, looking up from his doodles on your skin, cocking a single brow. “it reminds me of how good and spread i have you for me.”

your chest begins to rise up and down quickly at his words, causing you to grab onto his arm in desperation of some sort of stimulation.

he smirks proudly to himself, knowing the effect he has on you. “and these thighs.” he leans down to gently peck the soft and plush skin, making sure not to smudge the fresh designs. “thick and enticing. the way they force me in between them once you can’t take anymore.”

you gasp as you begin to squirm.

“yeah, pretty girl? you love suffocating me with these when i’m making you shake and cry, don’t you? the way i dig my fingers into them as you press into me harder and harder? completely disregarding my oxygen intake as i devour you. feeling you just let go. twitching and spasming all over my tongue. you love that, huh, my angel?”

“h-hyunjin.”

“shh.” he coos, leaning down and brushing his lips delicately against yours. “you have to stay calm for me, baby. we haven’t even started yet.”

he pulls away from you before resuming his previous actions.

“you just get so excited, huh?“ he begins to trace his fingers closer and closer to your heat, but never to the exact spot you needed him.

you nod quickly, letting out a huff.

“but so patient, too.”

you open your mouth to plead, only to be cut off by the feeling of his breath ghosting over your swollen bud.

he looks up from your slick and eager heat with a deep desire in his eyes, his pupils slightly blown out.

“why don’t you do that thing that i love so much, hmm? just crush me in between them. show me how you’re able to let go for me.”

you gasp as you feel yourself beginning to pulse and contract on nothing.

“can you do that for me, pretty baby?”

“y-yes.” you whine breathlessly.

without another word, his lips connect themselves onto your sensitive clit, causing you to squeal as lapped up the juices you were already starting to secrete.

his fingers quickly find their way inside of you.

you let out a short and quick squeak as he pumps them in and out of you rapidly.

“oh-“ you grab onto his wrist, the sensation already being too much.

“pretty girl.” he says breathlessly against your skin as he continues to split you open on the two digits while simultaneously sucking onto your mound. “taking my fingers so well.”

you clench around him as you begin to feel the knot in your lower tummy form.

god, it’s really been far too long.

he can feel how close you’re becoming as his eyes pierce into yours.

he quickens the pace.

small trickles of your arousal begin to fly and shoot out of you before you’re full on squirting into his large hand.

“that’s it, baby. mix those colors for me.”

your hand quickly covers your face as it burns red, feeling humiliated at just how fast you came undone.

and just as he wished, your thighs slam into either side of his head with a thud, causing a muffled moan of his to vibrate throughout your core.

cries and moans of his name fall past your lips as he helps you through your intense orgasm, rubbing your thigh reassuringly as he did.

your legs twitch and shake as he continues.

a warm and soft kiss from his full and pouty lips grounds you a bit as your climax reaches its end.

you didn’t even realize he was no longer buried face first into your needy cunt.

you let out an exhausted sigh.

he disconnects from the kiss and pulls his dripping fingers out of you before rubbing the mess you made for him all over your body, swirling the lilac and mint green paint from the lower half of you in a beautiful way.

you look up to the ceiling while you regulate your rapid breathing as he begins to open another can of paint.

he whistles a tune to himself as he dips into the pale yellow, allowing you the time to become fully present for him again.

your head feels fuzzy and filled with love as it all sets in for you.

it’s been so long without hyunjin and the pleasure he’s able to bring you.

he was always so patient and delicate with you. like you were his little flower to nurture and protect.

you feel tears already beginning to prickle at your lash line.

he walks over to you with a sweet smile as he continued to stir the fresh paint with his finger.

“you back, baby?” he asks sweetly, his voice filled with tenderness and warmth.

you hum in response, still not being able to form words yet.

he sets the paint down and leans in to peck your forehead.

you grab onto his sweatshirt, letting out a whine.

he chuckles under his breath before softly caressing the outer part of your ear with his thumb. “you want me to take it off?”

“mhm.” you tug at his collar as you try to pull yourself closer to him.

he obliges, pulling the puffy top over his head and leaning back into you.

you take your turn to show hyunjin how you feel through art, dipping into the paint and tracing small hearts along his abdomen.

he smiles at you endearingly as he hums happily, rubbing his knuckles along the sides of your waist and hips.

he re-coats the now dry paint, using his long and slender fingers to stain the surface of your skin, twisting left, right, up and down to make different shapes and patterns.

“this color reminds me of the light you bring into my life. like my eternal sunshine even on the cloudiest of days.”

you bite your lip, once again feeling the overwhelming bubble of emotions trying to fight their way out.

his praise was never anything surface level and simple such as: “you’re beautiful” or “you make me happy.” it was always so much deeper and more passionate.

“when i see you, it’s like there’s no such thing as pain or heartache. nothing could ever phase me with you in my presence.” he says, taking his non-paint covered hand to stroke your cheek softly.

you sniffle a little as you place both hands on either side of his face and pull him in, noses touching.

“you know that, don’t you? how much you mean to me?” he asks.

you bite your lip as you try to suppress an upcoming cry, nodding your head. “yes.”

he places his hands on both of your hips before turning your body to face him as he stood before you.

“don’t ever think you have to deprive yourself from me. i will always be here to reassure you. in any way, my love. with my words, paintings, my tongue, fingers.”

you shiver as he whispers against your neck.

you pull him into a kiss by his hair.

“love you, hyunjin.” you stop to let out a soft and needy moan as he nibbles at your jawline. “i love you so much.”

he lifts his hips up before finally entering you, causing you to throw your head back as you let out a long and high pitched moan, your fingers turning white as you grab onto his torso.

“look at me, baby.” he says softly, pulling your head back up.

he exhales deeply before pressing his forehead onto yours, pounding into you harder and filling the room with the sound of your two bodies becoming one.

“take me, take me, take me.” he says, breathing heavily as he devoured you with his eyes.

“oh- oh my god.” you dig your nails into the flesh of his back desperately, wishing you could be even closer to him than you are right now.

“mhm.” he groans, grabbing onto your face as he kisses you, smearing paint onto your skin.

“you’re so beautiful, angel. so perfect. you were created so divinely and with such grace. i’ll never stop thanking every star that you’re mine. all mine, my baby.”

you begin to flutter and pulse around him, gasping as you arch your back. “hyunjin!” you whine.

“give it to me, baby. you’re so gorgeous when you come undone for me.” his voice becomes more desperate and filled with whimpers as his thrusts begin to falter and lose precision.

the two of you hold onto each others faces as you both unravel onto and into one another, moaning loudly as you reach your peaks together.

“ah! i love you, i love you, i love you.” he says through gritted teeth, fingers bruising your skin as he fucks in and out of you.

you stop fighting back the tears that so desperately want to escape and allow yourself to cry softly as you lay your head against his shoulder, slightly twitching as the waves of pleasure crash over you.

he exhales deeply once he’s finished, lifting your head up to meet his gaze as he smiles at you.

your face is pink and stained with a few blots of mascara, hair slightly untamed. but to hyunjin, it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

“you did such a good job, angel.” he says, caressing your cheek tenderly, wiping your tears with the pad of his thumb.

you smile as you bat your sleepy lashes up at him.

he changes both of your positions, switching the two of you to lay on your sides as you spoon each other.

“thank you.” you say softly to him.

he runs a finger from your forehead, to your nose, over your lips, down to your chin before tilting his head to the side. “you don’t need to thank me, baby. i’ll always be here to help you see the beauty in you that i do. i promise.”

your face turns a light shade of pink as you look down. he lifts it back up, smiling that precious squinty smile of his before kissing your lips soft and delicately.

“let’s just stay like this for a little while.” he says, closing his eyes as he rests his chin on top of your head, pulling you in closer.

“hyunjin, i’m not napping on your art desk.” you say, pushing yourself away from him and giving him a sassy look.

he groans dramatically, throwing his head back. “i had a feeling you wouldn’t.”

you giggle softly as you get up from the desk, looking down at your bottom with a sigh. “ugh, it’s so big, hyunjin.” you say, shaking your head.

“hmm. let me see, baby.” he says, giving you a concentrated and serious expression as you turn around for him.

he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, causing you to look back at him. “what is the point of- ow!”

you spin around, rubbing the cheek of yours that was stinging with burn of his slap. you feel something wet on your hand, realizing that it was paint.

you gasp. “did you just put paint on my butt?!” you try to hold back your laughter, wanting to seem upset with him.

“that’s what you get for speaking poorly about your body.” he says, wiping his paint covered hand.

you cross your arms and pout up at him, causing him to sigh and pull you in for a hug.

“i’m sorry, baby. i’m just teasing. but i meant what i said.” he says, poking your side slightly. “no more negative comments, alright?”

you sigh. “okay. ow!” you push yourself off of him and smack his chest at yet another swat against your bottom.

“and that one was for me. i just can’t get enough of this thing right here.” he says, squeezing into your butt roughly with his hands.

you shake your head, turning to walk out of the room, hyunjin quickly following behind.

“that handprint on your ass is amazing, angel. i should take a picture of it with my camera.”

“will you shut up?” you snap, scoffing as you fight back a smile.

“or better yet, i’ll use it as inspo for my next piece!”

“shut up!”

#stray kids #stray kids smut #hyunjin #hyunjin smut

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