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neteyamsyawntu · 5 months

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Kinkmas Day 03

Lingerie/Stockings

Neteyam x Human!Reader

✨Friendly Disclaimer: The content of this story contains aged-up characters! If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to click or scroll away. The last thing I want is for anyone to read something they are uncomfortable with, however if you decide to interact with any negativity, you will be blocked from my blog as a result.

Warnings: 🔞MINORS DNI🔞, slight corruption, oral fem receiving, friends to lovers trope, slow burn, size difference, interspecies relationship

Although it didn’t get cold in the jungles of Pandora, a sudden sort of mystical whimsy had struck you this year. It was early December and you had felt the urge to create a comfy cozy environment that reflected that of the impending holidays.

Seeing how you weren’t allowed to bring decorations back from Earth with you, you prompted on making some in between filing reports and paperwork in the lab. Your mind raced with ways of how you could arrange your new decorations in your room, and once your shift had ended you wasted almost no time rushing to your sleeping quarters with all of your materials.

It wasn’t much, a couple paper snowflakes attached to string to hang up on your ceiling. Of course your colleagues in the lab took notice to your festivities and had no problem lending some of the decorations they had been provided with a long time ago by the RDA before the war and long before you had even arrived at Pandora. Something to bring up the spirits of those away from home. Your eyes sparked over all the small trinkets, frosted covered trees in different sizes, stockings, and even some string lights.

Your heart soared with excitement as you hastily began to brainstorm ideas, gazing around your room and making a mental map of where you wanted everything. Your idea was almost perfect, yet you wanted to set the mood a bit more, just to make things a tad more cozy. From your closet, you fetched a dusty-pink oversized wool sweater and a pair of white thigh high, woven stockings, quickly discarding your own clothes and throwing on this set that you deemed the coziest clothing you had. Quickly you began getting to work, placing different trinkets along your personal desk, your night stand, and even a small bookshelf in the corner of your room.

As your eyes drifted back to the box you surveyed the remaining items, the string lights and some of the snowflakes you had made yourself. Of course you could’ve just requested a ladder, but what fun would that be? Or maybe you had just been wanting to see him since he hadn't been visiting the lab recently and neither you, the forest. Skipping to your desk you grasp hold of the communications choker you had discarded for the night, placing the ear piece on and bringing the mic to your lips, “Pathfinder, do you copy?” You ask trying to hide your excitment at the idea of requesting your Na’vi friend to come and help you. Almost immediately a buzz comes from the other end of the comms piece to reveal the heavy accent of Neteyam’s voice “I read you, Tiger-Lily. Is everything alright?” You almost giggle at his serious tone, knowing that Neteyam had no idea what he was getting himself into, “Need you at the lab for a favor, how quickly can you get here?”. A silence rang over the comms for a moment, seemingly making any arrangements he needed to before the hasty buzz returned, “I will be there shortly, hold tight.”.

While you waited for Neteyam to show up, you took survey of your progress so far, a wide smile on your face as memories of spending Christmases as a child with your family. It created an odd sense of melancholy that seemed to flurry in your heart, but part of you expected it and somewhat welcomed the feeling as well. Retreating back into the box of decor, you notice a few things. One a small bag of familiar candies and a large three wicked, scented candle, which you waste no time in taking it out, lighting it on your desk, quickly filling the room with the smell of cinnamon, to which you being crafting a couple more snowflakes to hang up around your room.

“It smells… nice in here.” The sudden voice pulls you out of your thoughts, as Neteyam opens your door, crouching in the doorway, his eyes peering around your room to observe the red and green color scheme before falling on your form. “Tey! Thanks for getting here so quickly, I know it’s a bit late.” You say with a bright smile, hastily taping a piece of string to the backside of the paper snowflake and putting aside your materials to go and greet him. His head cocks to the side as his eyes wander a bit too curiously along your body. “Those clothes… I don’t know if I have ever seen them on you before.” Neteyam states, his eyes still wandering you curiously. This outfit was definitely much different than what Neteyam was used to seeing you in. The oversized form of the sweater seemed to hide your body, yet with it stopping just below your bum, was just on the cusp of revealing more than he had seen of you. The long socks hugged your legs so comfortably, they looked so soft, only leaving a bit of revealed skin of your thigh between its hem and that of the sweater. You just looked so small. So cute.

You can help, but blink confused for a moment before following his gaze to survey your own clothing choices, “Oh right, well I don’t usually have occasion to wear it since it’s always so hot, but I figured tonight was fitting for it.”, “…And what is tonight?” Neteyam asks, finally pulling his gaze from you to glance around the room once more. “Just putting up a few Christmas decorations. These white walls are giving me a headache, so I figure now was a better time than any to spruce things up a bit.”. Neteyam nodded to himself slowly, as he silently agreed with your statement. His father had told him and his siblings of the Earthly holiday back when they were kids, but they all kind of found the idea ridiculous; sharing gifts wasn’t all that strange amongst na’vi culture, yet to be comfortable with the idea of a strange man in red sneaking into your home just to place surprise ones, gave Neteyam a sense of unease.

“I was kind of hoping you’d be okay with helping me put up a few… higher decorations?” You add, putting your palms together in a sort of pleading gesture, a tad of a guilty smile on your lips that you tried to hide by biting on your lower one. Neteyam couldn’t help the soft chuckle that left him, seeing what exactly you had been planning for his visit. “Ha… I don’t think that should be a problem.” Neteyam agrees, following along as you guide him to the string lights that had been packed neatly in the box, giving him brief instructions of how you wanted them placed at the highest point of your wall, and guiding them around the room.

In the meantime you busied yourself with hanging up some of the snowflakes you had made, taping them against the wall, unaware of Neteyam’s wandering eyes toward you as he continued his task, stealing glances and watching as your stockings started to slip down your leg, slowly revealing more of your skin. Taking a step back from the wall you were working on, your eyes bounce around the arrangement of your snowflakes and pondering what to do with the one in your hand, until an open spot higher on the wall caught your attention. Perfect, albeit a little too high… for you. With a brief look over your shoulder you spot Neteyam working silently to put up the lights, his arms outstretched effortlessly as he used his own roll of tape to secure the lights to the wall. “Hey, Teyam do you think you could help me put this up? It’s a little too high for me to reach”, Your voice immediately captures his attention with a flick of his ear, glancing over in your direction, his eyes dancing between the paper decoration in your hand and the arrangement you had put together on the wall until ultimately landing on your form. You were pushed up onto your tiptoes, arm stretched out against the wall as you held the decoration just below where you wanted it, his eyes falling to how your sweater now pushed up to reveal the underside of your rear, a laced pair of panties peeking out from under it nearly had Neteyam choking on his saliva.

Neteyam’s tail flicked behind him as he had noticed he had been staring for a bit too long. Without much of a second thought, his mind to focused on the view you were presenting him with, Neteyam makes his way behind you, bending down to wrap his arms around your torso, pulling your back flush against his chest as he boosts you up to the place you were trying to reach, earning a much surprised yelp from you. “O-oh uh… thanks. Although this isn’t really what I meant- anyways..” you flusteredly stumble over your words before bringing your attention back to the task at hand, securing the paper snowflake in its spot, “There uhm.. you can put me down now, Nete.”. Neteyam cleared his throat with a soft apology having found himself distracted again, having allowed his fingers to gently caress the woolen texture of your sweater.

Heat rushes to your face as you can feel your sweater rolling up over your bum as Neteyam gently guides you down to your feet, feeling the embroidery of his cummerbund against your ass, the rough stitching catching your sweater, unintentionally pulling it up over your rear, revealing the black laced panties you were wearing underneath your clothing further as your descended lower, gliding over his bare abs. You could almost swear for a moment that Neteyam had shivered slightly at the contact, which only strengthened your flustered state. Once finding your footing you nearly stumble out of his arms, quickly fixing your sweater. “S-sorry um… I didn’t see anything.” He lied, averting his gaze to look between his feet, unsuccessfully hiding his blush in the process, “It’s okay… it was an accident, no hard feelings… woah..”.

Your eyes then drift around the room, consuming each detail of the decorations that littered your bedroom, the lights finally strung up, making all the difference, “It looks incredible in here… Oh! I have something for you!”. Neteyam tilts his head, sitting down on your bed, watching curiously as you shuffle back to the box that held all of the decorations. “Close your eyes and hold out your hand!”. A soft chuckle leaves his lips at your request, yet he complies anyway. His ears flick when a foreign texture is placed into his palm; the object is light in weight, seemingly fragile. His eyes open peering down at a small red and white hooked shaped item in his hand. “T-thank you… what is it?”, “It’s called a candy cane, it’s a treat!”. Neteyam’s eyes wander from yours then to the candy in each of your hands, your own gaze picking up the confusion in his. “You just stick it in your mouth like this and suck on it.” You explain casually, sitting on the bed beside him as you stick the stem of the candy into your mouth, lightly sucking on it in the process.

You were just so innocent and it always seemed like around this time of year you became overly cheerful. Something about it made something in the pit of his stomach stir as he watched you suck delightedly in the treat. Neteyam cautiously follows suit, careful not to break the candy as he sticks it in his mouth. The minute the flavor hits his tongue, his brows furrow, removing the candy cane from his mouth, smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, trying to identify the taste. “It is spicy… yet sweet?”, “It’s called mint. It makes your breath smell good, so it’s an added bonus.” You can’t help, but softly giggle as he tries a second attempt at tasting candy. He couldn’t deny although it had an odd sensation on his tongue, that the candy did taste good, the sweetness seeming to overpower whatever that ‘mint’ thing was, yet when his eyes fell on you again enjoying the candy yourself; your small finger hooked around the curved bit to keep it steady as your lips wrapped securely around the stem, created a strange fuzzy feeling I Neteyam’s brain and a slight stiffening in his loincloth.

“I think there may be something wrong with mine… could I um… could I taste yours?” The request was everything against his better judgment, yet when you looked up at him with slight concern and those doe eyes, immediately it made him swoon. “I uh… s-sure. I mean I don’t know how yours could taste ba-.” A gasp breaks through your mindless rambling as Neteyam inches closer to you on the bed, his eyes hooded, lips slightly parted, creeping steadily closer until you two are practically sharing the same breath. Neteyam was playing a dangerous game and he knew it. His natural good boy instincts screamed at him to pull himself together, to retreat back into his bubble and apologize for the stupid request, but he didn’t want to. His gaze was zeroed-in on your lips, feeling the saliva building in his cheeks as just the thought of tasting the mint on your tongue made him salivate.

“N-Neteyam?”, “You said I could have a taste… right? I thought maybe… you wouldn’t mind if I tasted it like this?” His voice is hushed, almost a whisper, his eyes only flicking once from your lips to your eyes, but only for a moment. It was as if an intense hunger had taken over him, something the na’vi hunter couldn’t quite explain, but the way he leaned over your small form, shadowing over you, you couldn’t help, but feel like prey. Your heart rapped against your chest, your mind feeling fuzzy as he moved to close the space between you two. You were speechless, dumbfounded by his boldness, which he seemed to catch onto, “Stick out your tongue for me, yawne… I promise I’ll be gentle.” he purrs, his voice smooth in a almost silent whisper, as if not to spook you.

It hadn’t even dawned on you that you had obeyed his wishes until you felt the hot embrace of his significantly larger tongue envelope your own. The breath that you had been unconsciously holding in now exhaled into his mouth with a heavy sigh. His ears flick in silent acknowledgment, feeling your body relax against him. Submitting to him. A sort of awareness seems to wash over Neteyam as his three fingered hand snakes around your back, pulling you closer to him, his hand fisting your soft sweater securely in his grasp. An awareness that you were giving yourself to him, an awareness that even if you hadn’t, he would have the utilities necessary to take you for himself, even if he would never actually act on it.

So lost in the high of the moment, the sudden loss of the dance created by your tongues leaves you chasing after him, causing Neteyam to chuckle at your eagerness, “Just a taste, remember?” He coos, kneading gently at the material of your sweater in his grasp. Your heart was racing, face captured in an overwhelming heat, yet even still, you couldn’t help, but crave more, “Do- do you want another taste? Maybe?” You ask breathlessly before you can even process the words leaving your lips, eyes wide with anticipation. A fang tugs at his bottom lip as he bites it discreetly, moving in again as if your small body called to him.

When your tongues connected for a second time you are taken by surprise when he brings your smaller tongue into his mouth, sucking on it as if it were to minty treat itself. Your eyes rolled slightly as they fluttered shut, yours arms moving to wrap around his neck as his own, pulled you closer, pressing his chest against yours as he anchored you completely down onto the bed. Everything seemed to move quicker as each of your movements became more heated, the arch in your back pressing your chest against his more firmly, his long arms practically cradling you as his hands beneath your sweater giving your skin gentle caresses, his thumbs just barely tracing under the swell of your breast “So soft…” he murmured against your lips before eagerly claiming them again.

It was almost as if he was teasing you yet giving you everything you wanted at the same time; his lips were heated and passionate, while his hands worked gently against your skin as if you were some kind of antique. His eyes nearly pop open when you roughly grasp his hand, finally pressing it fully against your breast, “Please Teyam… touch me.” You plead oh so innocently. A low rumbling, purr-like noise emerges from Neteyam’s throat as he attaches his lips to your neck, sucking and nibbling tentatively while his hand cups your breast firmly, kneading it in his grasp, coaxing small moans from you.

Leaving a hand on your breast the other drifts to push your sweater up to your waist, his fingers delicately dancing along the skin of your hip, tracing over the lace detail of your panties, “And these… do you always wear things like this, tawtute? Or did you put them on just for me?” Neteyam purrs into your neck. You can’t help, but sheepishly giggle; the truth was that this was yet another article of clothing you never really had the opportunity to wear. It hadn’t crossed your mind that Neteyam would notice them, let alone be aroused by them in such a way, “And… if I wore them for you?” You test, a heavy blush panting your features as your eyes watch his reaction closely.

You can see him physically shudder as he moves both hands to your thighs, massaging them gently, pulling away from your neck to look you in the eyes, “Then… I hope you know what you are getting yourself into, Y/N… and with your permission.. I’d like to continue.”. The sides of your lips twitch into a smile as you feel adrenaline course through your body, biting your lower lip to conceal the excitement of what was to come, slowly nodding your head in approval. The pupils of Neteyam’s eyes dilate at your gesture, his tail flicking alluringly behind him as he lowers his face down your torso, pushing your sweater up to your breasts as he lays wet yet tender kisses along your abdomen, descending lower and lower until his lips brush the lace detailing of your panties.

His focused eyes glance up at you for a moment, giving you a look that says “This is what you signed up for.” Before his fangs gently tug at the band of the fabric, not enough to tear it, but enough to make your body shiver as it lifts from your skin. His teeth release your panties with a slight slap of the fabric, his eyes brimming with lust, keeping eye contact with you as he descends even lower.

Your curious eyes watch him closely only to quickly shut them, gasping and throwing your head back as you fist the sheets of your bed at the feeling of his alien tongue sweeping over the fabric of your panties, licking your core through the thin fabric. Your body shudders at the contact, and the sight you open your eyes to makes you instinctively clench. The amber eyes predator stalking between your thighs, his shoulder blades rolling on his back as he gets into a more comfortable position between your legs. His intentions were made clear through his actions, making you more than eager to follow suit, as you lift your hips, keeping your eyes locked on his just as he had as your fingers hook around your panties, shimming them down your legs.

You begin to pull your stockings off with them, but you are stopped by a large three fingered hand, “Leave these on… you look so cute in them.” He hums softly, maybe it’s the look on his eyes, but the request feels more like a demand, so of course you work your panties down your stockings until Neteyam pulls them off your angles, discarding them off the side of the bed. Hoisting your soft, stocking covered legs over his shoulders, Neteyam wastes no time pulling your intimates close to his face. His hungry and possessive eyes locking on you once more as he repeats his previous action with nothing to obstruct the wetness of his tongue. Your hips buck at the contact, your eyes fluttering closed as you enjoy the feeling.

Your tip toes perched atop broad blue striped shoulders, Neteyam’s tongue emerges from between his lips as he opened his mouth to drag the soaked muscle up your slick cunt. His hot breath mixed with his wet pressure of his tongue, making you clench around nothing. Large gold eyes locked on you, observing as your facial expressions morph in ecstasy. His tongue completely devouring your petite pussy, covering you like a blanket. You had never felt smaller than you did in that moment, the blue giant shadowing over you even in this compromising position. His hands nearly twice the size of your head, snaked itself up to your breast, while the other encompassed your hip. A hitched gasp drew from your throat feeling as Neteyam hummed against your pussy, savoring the taste of your cum.

“My love…” his smooth thundering voice resonated in your ears, “your taste.. it is so addicting. I want more of you”. Feeling the wet muscle shift down to your opening, you can’t help but arch your back as Neteyam inserts his thick tongue through your pussy lips, “Oh! Neteyam!” You mewl into the back of your hand, desperately fisting the pillow below your head. His tongue felt unearthly inside of you, its girth massaging your walls fervently. Each sweep and dip of his tongue only made you crave more, your stomach tightened reaching the cusp of your high, as you fucked yourself against his hungry mouth. “My needy little tìyawn… so cute. I love that I can fill you up with just my tongue,” Neteyam breathed against your cunt pulling back slightly to look up at you, before eagerly pulling at your hips to submerge his tongue back into your cunt, basking in your pleasured noises.

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heizours · 1 year

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GLITCHES

summary. when they find out that you're planning to delete the game under a few reasons

tags. gn! reader, grammatical mistakes may occur

cw. angst if you squint, mentions of explosions, sumeru archon quest spoilers on scara's part, they are lowkey freaking out like it's the end of the world

feat. xiao, scaramouche, heizou, zhongli, kazuha

note. there will be no endings/parts where the reader deletes or doesn't delete the game. to make it easier, the characters somehow already knows another way to prove their existence, and that it is ;)

< back to event m.list

INTRO.

Recently you have been busy for the past few days, as you're trying to accomplish all the works that was given to you before the given deadline.

And that also meant, not being able to spend the rest of your day opening the game. You really tried managing your time, but even that advice can't stop from the overflowing requirements that were continuously being given to you.

Which led to this scenario- apparently your laptop's storage has already reached it's limit, and because of that you can't save the file that was tasked to you

"Are you seriously playing with me now?" You grumbled under your breath, as this minor problem is starting to making you feel frustrated.

Meanwhile, your dear character has been very worried about you. He haven't seen you log in for the past recent weeks, and each passing day was a dreading feeling for him.

Till, all his answers have been granted when that familiar feeling came back again as he heard the sudden sound, which indicates of you logging in. The feeling of your presence, made him feel at ease again. But, of course, he seriously didn't expected it to be thrown away in an instant.

"Perhaps playing one last time, should erase the guilt I'm going to be feeling while deleting this..." You mumbled to yourself, not even the slightest aware that it was clearly heard by him beyond your screen.

Oh, no.

What have you done?

XIAO.

any outsider would think that there’s nothing going on inside his mind. the truth is, he’s trying to understand if what you had just said was just a joke or not, that he didn’t even noticed that he’s actually panicking the minute he heard it.

Xiao’s breathed hitched in nervousness at the statement that he had just heard from you, not too long ago. His eyes widened in both shock and fear, as he needed to control his breathing so that you won’t be able to noticed the odd actions about him.

He tried to keep his composure, but he really can’t as his thoughts continue to spiral and emerge from every corner of his brain.

Did he do something that you didn’t like?

Is it because he isn’t build enough to surpass your expectations?

Or maybe, you just came up with that excuse to indirectly say that you’re tired of him?

No amount of words can be describe by the amount of predictions Xiao is coming up with, as he looked back to reflect on his actions if there is something that bothered you so much, that you refused to play the game for the past few weeks and now, you’re mumbling about deleting it from your gadget’s existence.

His eyes kept darting every where that is surrounding him, except the direction that leads to yours, as he could feel the sweat from nervousness and fear are starting to kick and come out from him.

“But- they were always so happy and glad after logging in. It’s impossible that they are getting tired of it l, they even always use my abilities and skills to complete quests..” He mumbled to himself.

He looked up to look at you again, and there was no denying that Xiao can see frown that was evident on your face even though you tried to hide it in the first place, while you’re taking every last explore in the map, to be worth it and cherished before logging off.

If there’s anything that affects Xiao the most, it is seeing you under the clouds.

Suddenly, the thoughts that were brewing inside him, were pushed out of the way, as this time a determination presence has made it known from within him.

He has made up his mind, and even if it will have to cost something, then so be it.

It might be considered as an irrational decision, but anything is a rational one as long as it involves your happiness and well-being.

“Before I knew it, you are the only keeper of my heart. You gave me such a blossoming feeling I can't be able to explain. Then in return, if this decision will be for your own good, then I’m willing to risk it all for you.”

SCARAMOUCHE.

it might be already expected that he would let out a sudden outburst like he usually does, but it was the complete opposite of it. he was as still as thin ice, since that statement alone from you had triggered and brought back such major flashbacks that he had experienced from his whole life.

For a thousand of years he has lived and wandered all his life, this was the very first time Scaramouche has experience that feeling once again.

He thought that it was all over, and that he had left all those incidents all in the past, but you were the trigger for those unpleasant memories to emerged back from the ashes.

He doesn't understand.

What do you mean by that?

Are you also going to be like her? like them?

Are you also going to abandon him?

Scaramouche felt paralyze by those thoughts, because just as he was about to become a playable character and is waiting for the anticipation to be welcomed in your arms, this is what he gets instead?

“That can’t be possible, in fact- they are always excited whenever I get cutscenes especially if they are unexpected ones- or maybe they didn't like my part for Sumeru's archon quest..?" He murmured to himself, as he covered a part of his mouth, while being deep into his thoughts.

He looked back up to the screen, only to see you very focused on defeating a group of hilichurls that you were commissioned to. But no amount of focus can cover the sadness that is displayed on your face.

Scaramouche often has a routine, that since he is still an NPC and can be able to also roam around whether your online or offline in the game, he had made it a point to himself, to subtly follow you wherever you go, so that he can also be able to secretly help you to defeat the opponents much easier than you expected.

He for once, thanked himself that he never got tired of doing it, even though he sometimes also ‘complains’ how it’s really troublesome to see, that someone as dangerous as himself, is discreetly following you around like a lost child.

He took one last look at you, before turning his back. But as he took force steps away from you, he had halt it. Once again, he turned around to look at you, as a small smile slowly crept up to his face.

Like he suddenly had a big plan on his mind.

After all, if you can be able to enter his, then he too can do the same to yours. Right?

“The hoax, they are just all a gigantic lie in the world I live in. But you, you were different from all of them, in you I found peace and assurance. So, can I be able to find the truth in yours?”

HEIZOU.

as expected from a detective like himself, he’s coming up with every equation, that can fit as the solution to your problem. he gives himself some assurance that it will take not that much of a time before he finds one....or can he be able to?

He is a prodigy, an amazing detective. Surely he can be able to find such major clues, and can put it into the puzzle that's missing it's pieces, to prevent you from erasing the game?

Heizou stands there with his typical detective pose, as he goes deeper in his inner thoughts.

Ah, maybe this can work!

I think I'm gonna have a change of plans, it will not work.

It's alright, I can be able to solve this. Hopefully..

His brain continued to brew and function like it used to be, but every time he comes up with something it was always met by a dead end.

If any passer by will be able to see him, they could literally see the imaginary smoke coming from his brain, and because of his frequent change in expressions.

One moment his eyes would light up, the second he will freeze in pure disappointment before replacing it with a frustrated expression, as he goes back at the starting line.

"This is quite odd...usually I can be able to solve cases with the help of my intuition, but how is it I can't find something for their problem?"

Heizou mumbled disappointedly to himself.

He wasn't even aware, that the "assurance" that he is telling to himself, will be the embodiment for him so start panicking, as the fear that he won't be able to see and feel your presence again, is starting to sink in.

Heizou looked back up at the screen, as the dreaded feeling in him continued to drop. Archons, he hated it so much to see you feeling like this.

If only he can just find a way disappear from this sham world, and can be able to do all the things he is already thinking of to comfort you, then he would gladly do so.

The moment that unintentional statement formed in his mind, a large bright light bulb appeared above his head.

'That's it!'

He snapped his fingers as he mentally exclaimed it.

It was a risky and impossible solution, but how could we say it as an impossible one, when we haven't even tried it yet?

He took a look at you, up at the screen before raising up his hand, as if he was trying to touch your cheek and comfort you, despite the digital barrier that is hindering him from doing so.

"You are the William to my Sherlock, therefore I would like you to wait for me [Name], I promise you I will be the solution to your needs."

ZHONGLI.

he flinched unconsciously from that statement. out of all the possible words he is already predicting to come out from you, this was by far, the most surprising one. can you imagine the look on his face?

Out of all the things that Zhongli has expected, this was the very least he had expected to happen.

It was a very rare yet memorable moment to catch the old archon to be off guard, and there is no denying that he did felt that way when you had spoken to yourself about how you're thinking of ending things already.

He completely understands it due to the experiences he had seen as a witness during his lifetime, as he also has his own beliefs that he can't be able to stop you, especially that it is not his right to know what's happening among your personal affairs.

After all, you're not even the least aware that he is alive and breathing lively inside the device you're using right now.

However, there is still this tingling feeling where he's a little curious of what is bothering you so much, that it this had to happen in this point of your life.

Did something not good happened?

Are you alright?

Will you still remain safe, even if you erase his existence?

Such countless thoughts started coming one after another, as the more he continues to spiral down through it, the more he is getting concerned about your condition.

"One shall not expose their identity especially if it's something unimaginable, but I clearly want to express how concern I am over you [Name].."

Zhongli voiced out to himself, because if he would do it in front of you, then there is a very big possibility that you're going to freak out and will be able to click that delete button without any hesitation, before he can even explain anything about that glitch.

Engrossed in his thoughts, he was snapped out of it after hearing a big explosion that was not that far from where he is standing at the moment.

He has hesitating if he should go after it, especially that there is a chance someone might have gotten in danger because of it, but as he took a look at you are right now, he decided that he would make the travel fast in order to get back to you in a flash.

As he arrived at the area, something worth shocking and unbelievable was existing right in front of his eyes. No, it wasn't an unpleasant sight but it was rather a complicated one.

There stood an unknown portal, and through the portal he can be able to see you, doing what you were doing, but in a more different perspective from what he sees behind the screens.

Zhongli took hesitant steps, towards it. There is an odd presence radiating from it. Knowing that he is usually a rational person, he would usually step back from it just to be safe, but instead he finds himself closing the gap between him and it?

He took again another look through the portal to make sure if what is behind it, is truly not something delusional just to lure him in.

He's not one to make a decision in a fast pace, but just seeing you right behind this portal he's standing in front of, is encouraging him to take the opportunity, as it will be a worthy choice to make and shouldn't be wasted.

His fingers shook, as he got closer and closer to it, and once it had collided with the portal, there was a blinding light that surrounded the area before it disappeared along with the thin air.

"Oh Dear, just how big of a trouble did I got into? Well, there is no time to blame myself. I guess it should be you who I am worrying about, after all how would you react to find me standing right in front of you?"

KAZUHA.

he was able to take that statement calmly on the outside, however the moment he had grasp what you had just said, there is no denying that something shattered inside of him.

It seem that time has stopped around him, the very moment those words had escaped your lips.

But, despite the unpleasant twisting and burning feeling in his chest, it's a surprise that he was able to take it well from the outside.

Do not be fooled though, for if you have the ability to go deep inside his mind, you would be able to see the countless thoughts that are appearing and whispering from within him.

What was the cause of this effect?

Can he be able to reverse it at least?

Are you going somewhere he can't be able to follow or reach?

Such an occurrence like this, brings back Kazuha from the burdens he had to carry because of his past and fallen status.

"I have no right to stop you from doing so, since I firmly believe that you are entitled to have goals and dreams. But, there is a bitter taste in my mouth that I can't be able to erase once you separate the both of us for the purpose of your path."

He mumbled to himself, as he places a right hand near his chest, while reminiscing the unforgettable moments he had with you before you completely take the chance, to erase his data and memories.

He was glad that he isn't part of your team party at the moment, because he can take this chance to just simply look and admire you from the barrier, and take in your breathless form before fading away like the glitches.

That is, until something bright yet risky have been planted on his mind. Not too long ago, he heard some gossips about a mechanism device, being able to grant a wish of whether it can be believable or not.

Now, Kazuha knows that such a device can't possibly be able to do a miracle like that, but even though he is denying it, there is still that glimpse of hope inside him, that he should go for it.

Knowing that he can be able to also roam around like the others that escapes your naked eye, he took one last yearning look at you, as he hastily began his journey, hoping and praying that he can be able to make it to that device before you can even plan to erase all of the game's existence.

"You are the summer to my autumn. Back then I didn't have someone I can be able to protect, but now that you're here, please continue to show me the bright light that leads to yours."

OUTRO.

Peacefully.

You were just sleeping very peacefully.

But, that peace was unintentionally disturbed by his arrival- which you didn't know at all.

You could feel something- no, someone softly caressing your face, as if you're a sensitive vase.

At first, you tried to ignore it thinking that it was just the gust of wind, and it soon stopped.

However, it didn't end there. The lingering and soft touches had already disappeared from your senses, but you could still feel the presence of that someone.

You could feel them staring right into your soul, and if you even show the slightest signs of being awake, who knows what can they do to you.

Despite the warnings you had gathered, your stubbornness still got ahead of you. Because as soon as your eyes fluttered open, the first thing you see is someone breathing above you.

Out of instinct, you push them and hastily grabbed the nearest object that you can use to defend yourself, but as you took another look at the said intruder, you could have sworn that this is a dream.

Unconsciously, you slapped your face with the both of your hands, attempting to jolt your soul to wake up. And the sound emitted a sharp sting, causing the intruder to panic.

"W-wait! I'll explain everything I know, j-just please don't continue to hurt yourself further." He frantically claimed, as he started to feel guilty for making you act like that.

You lowered down the object that you're using to defend yourself, but that doesn't mean that you're guard has also lowered down.

I mean, who would even lower their own guard down when they wake up to find one of the characters from the game that they are playing, are alive and breathing right above them, got into their property without noticing it, knows them and looks exactly like the character itself?

"A-alright, I'll let you. J-just please don't come any closer than that, since this moment actually took a big toll on me, and I'm finding it unbelievable to even believe it." You nervously replied back, as he nodded back eagerly in return.

You think it will only end here? How laughable, truth to be told, this is just the beginning of each other's story.

We may never know what are fate's plan for the both of you, but as they always proclaim-

'Everything happens, for a reason.'

comment to be added in the taglist!

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retellingthehobbit · 8 months

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Retelling The Hobbit Chapter 15: Unattached First chapter / Previous / Next Read full comic on: Webtoon/A03

Other blogs : Instagram/Tumblr Sideblog

Thank you for reading! The next chapter of this comic adaptation of The Hobbit will be titled (drumroll)....The Song of the Lonely Mountain!

Check under the cut for notes on the callbacks to previous chapters of this comic, and to Tolkien stories like the Unfinished Tales! —-

—-

One of my guiding ideas for this comic is that the story is being written/drawn by Bilbo Baggins, an “unreliable narrator,” who has a biased way of recounting events. As the comic goes on, parts of the story get retold through new perspectives (or through the eyes of other characters), and you realize the initial version you read was incomplete.

A lot of you probably noticed that this chapter features a ton of callbacks to the earliest chapters of this comic! We saw child Bilbo and Gandalf's friendship told from Bilbo's POV in Chapter 3.....but in this chapter we see it retold from Gandalf's POV. However, Belladonna Took is our biggest instance of that! Not to overexplain my own writing, but Chapter 1 is an older Bilbo painting an idealized happily-ever-after fairytale picture of Belladonna, while Chapter 15 features a younger Bilbo telling a far less optimistic version of her life. While there's truth to both of them, neither of them is the full truth.

In the Fellowship of the Ring, Bilbo tells Frodo that ‘books need to have good endings,' like endings where everyone "lives happily ever after." If I were to continue this comic to the end of the novel, Bilbo’s habit of “rewriting things to be happier" would become a whole Thing.

Second: Much of this chapter is taken directly from “The Unfinished Tales: The Quest For Erebor.” That story was Tolkien’s attempt to unite the tone of The Hobbit with LOTR, by having Gandalf explain what The Hobbit looked like from *his* perspective. The gay line about Bilbo feeling incapable of settling down into a Traditional Marriage with a Wife And Kids is taken almost directly from the Unfinished Tales. So are all the lines where Gandalf reflects on what Bilbo was like as a child, and the moment where Bilbo reflects that all of his desire for adventure has dwindled to a private dream.

Third: Obviously, the other big influence on this chapter (outside the original novel) was a similar scene in the PJ film. The little bit where Gandalf reveals the lore behind Bullroarer took monologue is the only dialogue I’ve directly lifted from that scene. ;3

Fourth: some of you may have caught that I used a quote describing Frodo’s wanderlust in the Fellowship of the Ring to describe Bilbo. The bit describing "the maps that only show white spaces beyond their borders" is also why I emphasized Bilbo’s canonical nerdiness around maps in earlier chapters (chapter 5 especially, but also in Chapter 6, Chapter 7, and a blink-and-you-miss-it moment in chapter 14.)

Fifth: one of my favorite things in the original book are all the scenes where Gandalf does fun Whimsical things with smoke/smoke rings. In the book he usually makes them change color or race around; in my comic he usually makes them turn into butterflies (he also does this in chapters 3 and 11.) you may have noticed that Butterfly Symbolism is a big thing in this comic. But yeah, in another callback: Gandalf finally had time to blow smoke-rings with Bilbo, which he said he 'had no time for' in Chapter 2!

Thanks again for reading! I tentatively plan for the next chapter to arrive on November 13th.

#the hobbit #lotr #lord of the rings #the hobbit comic #retelling the hobbit #chapter 15 #bilbo baggins #belladonna took #gandalf the grey #YEEEEEEEEEEEET #anyways #thanks again for reading!!!#long post

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riaki · 3 months

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sick days ! gojo x reader ‧˚ - take a soda break…!

the rain outside your window is incessant.

it slides down the foggy glass panes in small rivulets that merge together and break apart, like the people outside on different paths of life. a sea of umbrellas moves like liquid in the streets below; a school of fish in a rainy city, under those fluorescent neons that shine like vibrant coral in the puddles of rain on the concrete.

there’s beauty even in the humid showers of tokyo, reflected in the broken lights and flickering signs; those food stalls full of warm life and fancy clothing stores that you always go in just to not buy anything, and best of all— the vending machines that dot the map.

watching raindrops race was one of your favorite hobbies as a kid. even now, you find yourself absentmindedly tracking the movements; the erratic nature of the blurry droplets as they slide down the glass makes you wonder if there’s hidden ridges on the panels that guide those watery paths.

your train of thought is rudely interrupted by another bout of coughing; that dry, itching feeling in your throat that you just can’t get rid of. drinking water to quell the cough has the same effect as telling your study buddy to stay focused for longer than five minutes. gojo is playing something on his phone again; a rhythm game, by the way he curses under his breath every time his fingers stutter and miss a beat.

you cover your mouth with your elbow, trying to expel the ghost dust that makes your breath hitch every time you try to speak, and he glances up at you, shifting in his seat. his lanky legs are cramped beneath the desktop; his frame doesn’t fit in your room. he has to duck when he enters, lest he hit his head like the first time he came over. like you, he has his head resting in his elbows. unlike you, he isn't ill with a fever so hot it burns cold and the stuffiness in your voice, and he also isn't studying.

"you sure you still wanna be reviewing? this exam doesn't really matter, y'know." gojo remarks, peering up at you from his arm pillow. "you should probably take a break, ’cus you look like shit."

he grins cheekily, pushing a pile of his papers and notes to the edge of the desk, where eraser shavings and broken bits of lead from when he couldn't solve a math problem are crammed. there's scratches and ink stains on the desk, a reminder of how you'd accidentally scribbled past the page’s edge in a sickness induced delirium. it’ll leave permanent marks; at this point you’re convinced you’re writing yourself a secret letter to the future. have you confessed to gojo yet? that’s what it’ll say. right now, it just says something unintelligible.

hopefully you’re still literate in the future, but you’re half-convinced you’re getting dumber every moment you spend caged in with this dunce of a genius.

you lean back in your chair, pulling your knee up to your chest. your pencil falls to the desk with a faint clack, soft yellow lamplight washing your faces warm as gojo scoots closer and peers over your shoulder at your progress. he has a pandora’s box of knowledge in that blue-tinted brain of his; he just refuses to apply it. it’s cocky, spoiled ego in the finest. you should hate him for it.

he snickers. "you're dumb."

"you missed forty-three notes." you countered, shooting him a glare as you point at the disappointed looking character next to a review of the stats from the song he was playing on his phone. gojo grimaces, pulling back like a sad little dog, floppy white hair covering his eyes.

"i was playing with my thumbs."

you ignore him, leaning against the wooden desk before hiding your face in your elbows again and letting out a long sigh. your hot breath curls up in the confines of your body, making you recoil slightly; uncomfortably. heat is the last thing you need with the fever you’re pretty sure you’re running.

"i hate being sick. and i hate studying. can we please give up?" you complained, glancing up at him out of the corner of your eye. your hair obscures your vision, so you can only see a faint glint of amusement in his azure irises as he studies you for a moment before scooting his chair back and standing up. without another word, he leaves the room.

wow. okay.

a moment of silence passes as you sit there, lamenting over your runny nose and the way you sound like you're about to cough a lung up every time you breathe, until you hear the soft sounds of his feet padding on the floorboards coupled with what you presume is ice clinking against glass, signaling his return. you lift your head, blinking blearily. each time you breathe in through your nose, your nostrils burn like dry ice pressed against your skin, only adding to your misery. the dreary weather outside isn't helping much, either.

the cold glass leaves a dark stain on the table, an uneven circle of condensation that soothes the aching in your fingers when your sick skin makes contact. gojo pops the can open, and you watch as he picks the glass up, tilting it to the side to pour the soda in.

“why are you holding it like that?” you asked curiously, a small yawn escaping your lips as you lean against the table. he glances down at you, a cheeky, tiny smile gracing his lips. the sound of bubbles fizzling and popping fills the cozy, cramped room; that cool, sweet liquid seems like the only thing that’ll cure your nasty cough.

“pouring it like this prevents the bubbles from escaping. you like it fizzy, don’t you?” he grins.

condensation clings to his fingers like morning dew upon flower petals as he sets the glass down. you watch the ice cubes bobble about in the soda, clinking against the cup like a mini wind chime. you’re sore from sitting in the same place with terrible posture for three hours, and there’s an ache between your fingers from gripping your pencil tight while you write.

you take a sip from the glass, letting out a contented sigh as the refreshing liquid drains down your scratchy throat. it’s not lemon honey tea for a cold, but it certainly helps. next to you, gojo takes his seat again, grabbing the throw blanket on your bed and tossing it over his legs before he grabs his pencil again. he’s using one of those short pencils, shaved down to a stub from months of use. you always offer him a mechanical pencil, but he refuses.

you sit there, waiting for him to get back to work before you realize he’s staring at you, legs crossed beneath the fuzzy blanket.

you frowned, shifting to face him as you lean against the desk. “what?”

“you’ll take care of me if i get sick too, right?” he tilts his head, like a curious bird.

“why would you get sick?”

you’re too relate to react when he makes a mad grab for your glass of soda, holding it out of your reach. a few droplets spill out and spatter onto your notebook, forcing a sigh from your lips.

“gojo…” you groaned, rubbing your temple with your fingers and praying for strength.

he just smirks, taking a lengthy sip. you watch his adam’s apple bob as a bit of condensation builds on his chin and trickles down his throat.

“you know what? i dont feel like studying either.” he announces, setting the glass back down on the wooden table with a loud thunk.

“so? what do you wanna do?” you huffed petulantly.

“download project sekai, and we can do a co-op live.”

“…you’re kidding.”

#billet-doux #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru #gojo x you #satoru gojo #jjk gojo #satoru x reader #gojo fluff #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen

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the-anxious-youth · 7 months

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Bubbles II

Pairing: Buggy x gn!Reader

Summary: Now that Buggy has agreed to help you find Nami, the two of you get closer, and shenanigans ensue.

Warnings: none, general flirting but nothing too spicy, the reader is written as gender neutral but Buggy does call them pretty, some talks of insecurity but it's more comfort than hurt

Word Count: 4.7K

Author's Note: Here's the highly anticipated part two of my Buggy fic! He's quickly become one of my comfort characters so writing about him has been fun. Also, I made some major changes to the plot in regards to rescuing Nami because I felt I couldn't do it justice since I haven't seen episode 7 yet and didn't want to mess up such an emotional scene. Thank you for being so patient and I hope you enjoy! (Up next is a Shanks fic, so keep on the lookout for that) banners by cafekitsune

Part 1

Luffy’s eyes brightened when he saw you, a cheerful aura surrounding your captain. His smile triggers your own, and you walk up to him, holding Buggy in your hands. Luffy looks down at the clown’s head, and his smile grows even wider.

“Did you give him a makeover? It looks great, Y/N!” says the enthusiastic man, always in a good mood. You chuckle and nod in response, thanking him softly. Out of everyone in the crew, Luffy had always been the most supportive and you’re glad his reaction was the polar opposite of Zoro’s.

“Good news, I got him to tell me how to get to Arlong Park so we can rescue Nami!” Your tone is cheerful, and your Captain’s face reflects how you feel.

“Really? That’s awesome! How’d you do it?” Luffy leans against the side of the boat, visibly impressed by the way you’d been able to tame the beast, considering that a few hours ago, they all thought they’d have to torture it out of him. Looking down at Buggy, you smile softly, debating on whether or not you should tell the whole story. Before you can answer, Buggy lets out a laugh and responds for you.

“Guess I just have a soft spot for them,” he says, sending a wink in your direction. By now his flirtatious confidence is fully restored. Luffy watches the two of you making eyes at each other for a few seconds, before breaking the silence.

“Well, I’m glad you worked it out.” Luffy notices how your eyes sparkle when looking at Buggy, but he decides not to comment on it, instead moving to pull out a map. Spreading it across a table, he gestures for you to come closer.

“So this is where we are right now, approximately.” Your captain points to a spot on the map, and you recognize it as part of the East Blue. You gently place the clown’s head on the table, allowing him to look at the map. “And this is where we think Nami is,” utters Luffy, pointing his finger to an area adjacent to where he said you all are.

“You’re heading in the wrong direction, pal.” Buggy chuckles as he says this, not surprised that your crew wasn’t good with directions. After all, Nami was the navigator, the impact of her absence being very visible. Not waiting to hear what Luffy has to say, the clown continues.

“Arlong Park is on the other side of the East Blue, next to Cocoyasi Village, which is along the coastline.” Since he doesn’t have hands, he tilts his head to gesture towards the location of your desired destination. Your captain nods with a smile.

“I think I know where that is. See, was that so hard?” Luffy says teasingly, looking down at Buggy with a cheeky smile. The clown just glares in return, his smile not reappearing until you gently pick him up in your hands.

“Need me to go tell the others or do you want to do it?” You ask softly. Luffy smiles at you before responding.

“I’ve got it. I am the Captain after all.” He says cockily, though you know he means no harm. You chuckle and nod, finding his happy mood contagious.

“Yes, you are.” He pats you on the shoulder before heading off to inform the rest of the crew of the new developments. You look down at Buggy, his amorous grin causing the heat to rise to your face.

“Now what, sweetness?” He says, his tone smooth. Cocking your head at him, you hum while thinking.

“How about some food? I’m getting pretty hungry and I bet you are too.” You smile at him softly, to which he admires your face.

“You have no idea,” the clown mutters, excited at the prospect of food. Carrying him in your arms, you head to the kitchen, which incidentally is where the rest of the crew seems to be chatting.

As you walk into the room, everyone turns to look at you. Luffy smiles at you gently, Zoro’s face is humorless, and it seems like he’s still irritated about earlier, Sanji’s eyebrows furrow, confused to see you so happy with the clown, and Usopp wears a look of amusement as if he’s just along for the ride. For a moment, everything is quiet, before you decide to walk over to the pantry to find something to eat. Snapping out of his daze, Sanji walks over to you, the others resuming their discussion.

“What can I get for you, dear?” says the cook, gazing at you with a suave smile.

“Just a snack please, enough for two.” Your tone is soft, and you don't miss the look of surprise on Sanji’s face when he understands what you are referring to. You don’t notice it, but Buggy’s face is smug, enjoying watching the other man squirm. Sanji is silent for a moment, his face turning concerned.

“You do know he’s a bad guy, right? Remember what he did to that town?” asks the chef, leaning closer to you, to which Buggy scoffs.

“Lighten up, blondie, you weren’t even there.” Spits out the clown. His tone reads annoyance, not wanting the chef to impact your view of him. Sanji glares down at the head, crossing his arms.

“Yes, I remember. I just figure you get further with people using kindness.” Sanji’s eyes soften at your words, internally reminding himself that this is just who you are. He sighs, before meeting your gaze.

“Just be careful, okay? I don’t want you getting taken advantage of,” he says softly, and you smile at his words in an attempt to comfort him.

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” Chuckling softly at the blonde man’s concern, he nods his head, doing his best to smile back at you. He opens one of the cupboards and pulls out some snacks, handing them to you carefully.

“Let me know if you need help, alright?” Sanji’s eyes still hold some worry, but his easy-going smile is back on his face. You nod in response, thanking him for the food before heading to the top deck, wanting to get some fresh air.

Unbeknownst to you, the rest of the crew watched your interaction with Sanji, teasing him as soon as you were out of earshot.

“Is someone a little jealous?” teases Usopp, to which Sanji shakes his head, brushing him off.

Back on the deck, you take a seat on a blanket, putting Buggy’s head down next to you. He looks up at you with a sense of wonder, admiring your features.

“So what sounds good, apples? Crackers?” You gesture to the pile of snacks in front of you, a soft smile on your face.

“Just give me whatever you don’t want,” says the clown, his smile widening at the surprised look on your face.

“I thought you were this tough guy who only cares about himself?” Your voice is gentle, with a hint of curiosity. He chuckles at your words, shaking his head softly.

“Don’t believe everything you hear, doll.” His eyes twinkle as he speaks. “Who knows, maybe I just like you.” Feeling the heat rise to your face, you look down bashfully, not sure how to respond.

“Apples it is then.” Reaching over to grab one of the apples, you pull out the knife Sanji gave you and start cutting it into smaller pieces, slipping one into your mouth every so often. The clown just watches you, taking the opportunity to admire you while he can. Secretly, he plans to charm you so that you’ll leave with him once this is all over.

After cutting the apple into enough pieces, you move to give one to Buggy, when an idea comes into your mind.

“Here comes the choo choo train!” You say teasingly, waving the apple slice around like you would for a toddler. His eyes narrow at you, and you can tell he’d be crossing his arms if they were with him.

“Very funny,” he says unamusedly, though there is still a hint of a smile on his face. Chuckling at his response, you finally give him the apple slice, and he watches you while he chews.

“I didn’t pick these apples out so if they’re bad it’s not my fault.” You smirk at him cheekily, and he just shakes his head before swallowing.

“It’s fine,” he says, still smiling at you. “Trust me, I’ve eaten much worse.” Taking an apple slice for yourself, you pop it into your mouth, taking a look at the view around you.

“The sea sure is pretty,” you comment, admiring the fluffy clouds above you.

“Not as pretty as you.” Buggy’s statement makes you turn your head toward him. Searching his eyes for insincerity, your eyebrows furrow as you find none. By now you’re sure you’re blushing, and you look down at the apple to hide the apparent flush on your face.

“You’re quite the flirt, aren’t you?” Anxiety fills your chest, wondering whether his words were truthful or just a way to lower your guard. You fiddle with your fingers, sparing glances in his direction. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts, the clown speaks up, his tone softer than before.

“I’m being serious, you’re gorgeous, babe.” His eyes scan your face, hoping you’ll believe him, the corner of his mouth upturned into a soft smile. You just shake your head softly, his cheeky smile prompting your own. Gaining some confidence, you respond in a pert tone.

“Yeah, well you’re quite the looker yourself. I bet the girls go crazy for you.” Buggy’s cocky demeanor falters for a second, used to giving compliments rather than receiving them. He laughs nervously, thankful for the makeup on his face for hiding the blush on his cheeks.

“Depends on how you define crazy,” he says, tilting his head slightly. Even though you can’t visibly see the flush on his cheeks, his demeanor tells you enough. Chuckling to yourself, you reach for an apple slice, observing the clown as you chew.

“I guess we’re both not used to compliments.” Timbre hushed, you watch as he nods, silently agreeing with your statement. The two of you exchange friendly conversation, slowly opening up to one another. Before you know it, the sun is setting on the horizon as the day comes to a close, and all the snacks you got from Sanji are gone.

“If your captain correctly follows my directions, we should arrive at Arlong Park within a day.” Buggy’s tone is kind, something unusual for him, though there’s still a hint of playfulness. Nodding in response, you move to pick him up, being careful as always. He always gets a weird look on his face when you treat him with such fragility, and you assume it’s because being treated in such a way is unfamiliar territory for him.

Walking down the stairs, you head towards your room, smiling at your crew members as you pass them. Stopping by the kitchen to get some fresh water, you run into Sanji, who seems to be writing something down in a notebook. Probably his meal plan for tomorrow, you think to yourself. The chef turns to you as you enter, surprised to see you still with the clown.

“Aren’t you getting sick of watching him? Why don’t you let one of us take a turn, you’ve been on clown watch all day.” He says with a concerned smile.

“That’s okay, I don’t mind.” Sanji looks at you as you speak, his eyes scanning over your face as if it were a puzzle to be deciphered. His eyebrows furrow, revealing his confusion. To him, watching a pretty person choose to hang out with a homicidal maniac was like watching a scientist write poetry, it made absolutely no sense. He narrows his eyes for a moment, debating on what to say.

“Well, if you’re happy I guess.” His tone indicates that he wants to say more, but is restraining so as to not upset you.

“I’ll just get some water and I’ll be out of your way,” you say mellowly, the awkward tension becoming uncomfortable. At your comment, Sanji sends a flirty smirk in your direction.

“You’re never in my way, darling.” Feeling the blush rise to your cheeks, you nod quickly and head to grab the water. You couldn’t see it, but if looks could kill, the glare Buggy was giving the chef would have knocked him dead. After finding the water, you make a beeline for your room, not wanting to deal with more problematic interactions. As Sanji watches you leave, he wonders to himself how the clown has caught your interest, clearly not understanding the appeal.

Shutting the door to your cabin, you let out a sigh, gingerly placing Buggy on your bed, and moving to sit next to him. He notices the change in your mood, already missing the smile on your face.

“Everything okay, dollface?” His tone is the gentlest it’s been in years. The last time he could recall speaking in such a manner was with Shanks, and that was quite a long time ago. Nodding slowly, you start to fidget with your fingers, signaling your uneasiness.

“There’s just something about the way he looked at me like I was doing something wrong. It just reminds me how I don’t fit in with the rest of the crew.” You bring your hand up to start picking at your lips, the anxiety in your gut triggering the habit that appears whenever you get nervous. The action does not go unnoticed by the clown, and he tries to think of a way to calm you down.

“Hey, don’t do that. You’ll get scars,” Buggy says gently, wishing he had his body with him so he could grab your hand and pull it away from your face. Pausing your movements to look at him, you notice how concerned he seems, which ignites a strange feeling in your chest, comfort perhaps. You chuckle softly before replying, watching how his eyes never leave your face.

“It’s a little too late for that, I’m afraid.” He doesn’t match your laughter, aware of your attempt at deflection. A deep pit of sorrow seeps its way through his chest, which feels strange considering it’s not currently attached to him. It’s at this moment when he realizes how much he cares for you and decides that when you find Nami and the rest of his body, you’re coming with him. He’d be damned if he let anyone make you feel anything other than happiness. For a few minutes, you just watch each other, deciding what to say. In the end, Buggy is the one to break the silence.

“I know what it’s like to not fit in, but trust me when I say you’re a treasure, and anyone who doesn’t see that is an idiot. This crew is lucky to have you, they should be making you happy, not sad.” He smiles at you, his usual teasing nature completely gone in exchange for raw sincerity.

“Look, I know we haven’t known each other long, but I meant it when I said I had a spot for you on my crew. You’d be treated like royalty, which is exactly what you deserve.” Unlike the first time he said it, you actually consider what it would be like to join him, the thought bringing a small smile to your face.

“There’s that gorgeous smile. You’re too pretty to be sad, angel.” His words may be flirty, but he means each of them wholeheartedly. You chuckle and blush breaking into a full smile.

“How are you so sure your crew will like me?” You ask softly, tilting your head at him.

“They’d be stupid not to like you. And even if they don’t, their Captain does which means they don’t really have much of a choice.” He smirks up at you, enjoying the little giggle you let out. “At the end of the day, they’re below me and you’d be beside me, so at the very least they’d respect you. Knowing my crew though, I can pretty much guarantee they’ll like you.”

You listen to him speak with a smile, and for the first time in a long time, you feel like someone actually understands you, even if that someone is technically your crew’s rival. He grins as you nod, observing you with an almost wondrous look.

“We have to find Nami first though, okay?” You declare, pointing your finger at him playfully. Buggy laughs and nods, swearing that neither of you will leave before the redhead is found. A yawn slips out as you chuckle, the fatigue from the day reappearing like a weight on your shoulders.

“It’s late, we should get some sleep. Besides, tomorrow’s the day we rescue your friend and I’d rather you didn’t fall asleep on me.” He says with a smirk, and you nod, giggling softly to yourself. Pulling back the blanket, you move to lie down, placing Buggy’s head on its side on a pillow in front of you.

“Good night, Bugs.” The clown smiles at the nickname, gazing at you fondly as you snuggle up with the blanket.

“Good night, darling.” He says softly, watching you close your eyes. He takes the opportunity to study your features, afraid that if he looks away he’ll forget them. After a while he hears your breathing even out, signaling your unconscious state. Only then he closes his eyes, hoping to dream of you.

—---

The next morning goes by quickly, everyone preparing for the rescue they’re about to attempt. Buggy’s directions were correct, and Arlong Park was visible just on the horizon. The energy is full of excitement and anticipation, with everyone looking forward to seeing Nami again. Right now, you’re sitting on the deck surrounded by the rest of the crew as they discuss the game plan.

“You know the layout of Arlong Park, don’t you, clown?” Zoro’s tone is harsh, and Buggy has to physically resist rolling his eyes. He’s placed on your lap, something that keeps catching the eyes of Sanji, perhaps with a hint of jealousy. The only person who isn’t actively glaring daggers at him is Luffy, though that doesn’t say much considering the pirate is always happy.

“Yes, but I won’t be much help as a head, so we need to find my body first. Then we can go after your navigator.” If it wasn’t for your gentle touch on the sides of his neck, he would’ve gone off by now, annoyed at being treated like a prisoner.

“I can help with that,” you pipe up, and everyone nods in agreement. The group discusses some more, everyone being assigned various roles to assist in the operation going smoothly. After that, you all gear up, your goal being to reattach Buggy’s head to his body before you can help the others. Soon, the boat is docked a little away from your destination, not wanting to signal Arlong’s men of your arrival.

Trekking through the foliage, you finally make it to the gates and split into groups, deciding that it’ll be easier to cover more ground that way. Your group consists of yourself, Buggy, and Sanji, as the chef didn’t trust the clown being alone with you. The blue-haired pirate directs you towards a hidden entrance along the side of the park, one in which you hopefully wouldn’t be spotted. Following his directions, you come across a small clearing in the trees, Sanji following right behind you.

“Where do you think your body is being kept?” You ask quietly, hoping your voice doesn’t tell Arlong or his men of your locations.

“Probably somewhere amongst the carnival games. Since he’s taken it I’ve noticed they’ve been throwing something at it, probably darts based on the sensation. Arlong likes to mess with people anyway, so it would make sense.” Nodding, you head towards that area, allowing Buggy to tell you where to go since he’s the only one who’s been here before. Not long after, you stumble upon what you’re looking for, Buggy’s body pinned up against some balloons. Breaking out into a large smile, you look down at Buggy, and he grins back up at you.

“Wow, you were actually right,” Sanji comments, his words full of surprise and bitterness, his distaste for the clown painfully obvious.

“You say that like it’s a miracle.” The clown says in rebuttal, sharing the disdain for the chef. Suddenly, Buggy’s head flies out of your hands as the various parts of his body reattach themselves. Once he’s back to being a whole person, he hops down from the wall, running towards you with joy written on his face.

“It feels better than I even remembered!” Says the clown, running his hands up and down his arms. He turns to you with a grin.

“Now let’s go find your friend.” You nod at him, his happiness triggering your own.

While searching for Nami, you run into the rest of your crew, who seem to be in a bit of a hurry.

“What’s the matter? Did you find her? Is she okay?” Right as Usopp is about to answer, a familiar voice rings into the air.

“Miss me that much?” You turn your head in the direction of the sound, and a huge smile breaks out on your face as you see Nami running towards you. She smirks at your expression before continuing. “We need to get out of here before the rest of the Arlong pirates find us, we can catch up later.” You nod quickly, picking up your pace, and start running behind the others, Buggy at your side.

Once you all are far enough away from Arlong Park, the crew stops to properly greet Nami, yourself included. You can tell she’s not much of a hugger, so you make sure your embrace is short. As you all talk amongst yourselves, Buggy stands a few feet away, not wanting to interrupt the moment. After everyone had a chance to talk to the red-haired girl, she finally notices the clown standing awkwardly a few steps away and furrows her eyebrows in confusion.

“What the hell is he doing here?” She asks shortly, starting to walk in his direction. You quickly move to stand in front of her, preventing the two from fighting.

“It’s okay, he’s okay,” you say quickly, and are met with a confused look from the girl. “He actually helped us find you. I mean, we had no idea where we were going until he showed up, considering you are our navigator.” She scoffs at the idea of Buggy willingly helping someone who isn’t part of his crew.

“Oh yeah? How’d you get him to do that? Torture him or something?” Nami looks at Buggy suspiciously, not believing that he actually did something nice for once. You shake your head, chuckling nervously, not sure how to explain the whole ‘I gave him a bath and we kinda connected’ thing. Lucky for you, Buggy speaks up.

“Your crew member here is very convincing.” He takes a step forward, gesturing to you with a cheeky smile. She just watches the two of you for a moment, finally connecting the dots between Buggy’s friendly attitude and your flustered demeanor.

“Huh. Well, that’s something I didn’t expect to see today,” says the redhead, her timbre nonchalant.

“What didn’t you expect to see, Nami?” Sanji quickly asks. Now that she’s back, Sanji is taking every opportunity he can find to speak with Nami.

“Y/N hooking up with the clown. They didn’t seem like the type but I guess we all have secrets.” She looks at you with a smirk, a deep blush blossoming on your face. The rest of the crew looks surprised, especially Usopp, now that your little fancy has been blatantly stated.

“Wait, you have a thing for the clown captain? How am I only finding out about this now?” Usopp asks with a smile on his face.

“You really haven’t noticed? Even though I can’t possibly fathom why, they’ve been spending every second together the past few days. I mean, they’re always blushing around him, and that’s a sign of only one thing.” You’re surprised that Zoro seems so calm now, especially considering the way he reacted in the beginning. There’s no smile on his face, but he doesn’t appear to be upset. “You really need to be more observant of your surroundings, Usopp.” The swordsman shakes his head, baffled at his crew member’s ignorance.

It’s Sanji who turns to you next, a mix of emotions on his face. “So you two are really a thing?” he asks hesitantly, not sure if he really wants to hear the answer. By now you’re sure your face is deeply flushed, not used to being put in the spotlight.

“Let’s just say I’m pretty fond of your crew member,” Buggy looks at you cheekily, enjoying the blush on your visage. Sanji stays silent for a moment before nodding, leaning closer to say something to you.

“Just be careful, darling, okay?” His voice is gentle, and he backs away as soon as he sees the glare the clown is giving him. Suddenly Nami walks up to Buggy with a tough look on her face.

“If you hurt them, I’ll make sure you’re just a head, permanently.” He immediately puts his hands up in surrender, knowing that she fully means the threat.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, they’re too precious.” The look on the clown’s face shows his fear of her, a sight that almost makes Nami’s lip quirk.

“Good.” She turns back to you, the smile returning to her face.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I’ll actually miss you.” You knew this was the closest Nami got to being sappy, and you moved to give her one last hug.

“I’ll miss you too, Nami. Keep the boys in check for me, will you?” The navigator chuckles at your question, letting you go from the hug.

“Oh I will, you don’t need to worry about that.” Despite not knowing you for long, Nami secretly always liked you, finding you the most enjoyable to be around, unbeknownst to you.

Turning to the rest of your crew, you can tell they’ve already figured out your decision. You walk up to Luffy first, who’s beaming at you like a little boy.

“We’ll miss you too but I can tell this is what you want.” Your lips tug upwards at his statement, appreciating the way he values your wants and desires. “You know you’re always welcome on the straw hat crew, right?” His question makes you smile, and you nod in response. Stepping closer, you give him a tight hug which he happily reciprocates. ‘Always so touchy’ you think to yourself fondly. After pulling away, you say goodbye to the rest of the crew members, even getting a small “good luck kid” from Zoro.

“Until we meet again.” You say to all of them, nodding as a sign of respect. They wave at you as you walk away, following Buggy to go find his crew. As you’re walking, he stops abruptly and turns to you.

“Oh! I forgot something.” Raising your eyebrows, you start to open your mouth to ask him what he meant, when suddenly he carefully grabs the back of your neck, pulling your lips against his. Your eyes widen for a second out of surprise, but you quickly close them and kiss him back, moving your hand to his bicep. He grins at you after you pull away, taking pleasure in the shy look on your face.

“Cat got your tongue?” The blue-haired man says softly, referring to the conversation you had the day you first met. You giggle and shake your head, hiding your face in his chest. He laughs and wraps his arms around you.

“You’re too cute, you know that? Now come on, I’ve got some people to introduce you to.” You look up at him as you pull away, smiling as he grabs your hand to lead you to his crew.

©️the-anxious-youth, 2023

Please do not replicate/repost :)

#my writing #buggy #buggy fanfic #buggy fanfiction #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #one piece x reader #one piece

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peachesofteal · 9 months

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Faerie

Magic!au / Fae!au / COD x reader collection Stories that exist within the same universe and characters that make continued appearances throughout the collection.

The women in these paintings are white but this does not reflect or represent the reader characters in these stories.

Mermaids AO3 / also a part of The Paintings series Simon Riley/mermaid!reader “And the mermaids, they come once a year They climb the struts of Brighton Pier They come to drink, they come to dance To sacrifice a human heart” - F + TM Which Witch AO3 / Part 1 / Part 2 John 'Soap' MacTavish/witch!reader “I’m not beat up by this yet, you can’t tell me to regret, Been in the dark since the day we met, Fire, help me to forget” - F + TM Cosmic Love TBA / Drabble here Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick/mermaid!reader "I took the stars from my eyes and then I made a map And knew that somehow I could find my way back Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too So I stayed in the darkness with you." - F + TM Long and Lost TBA / Drabble here John Price/ !reader "I need the clouds to cover me Pulling them down, surround me Without your love I'll be So long and lost, are you missing me?" - F + TM

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coffeebeanwriting · 1 year

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Writing Purposeful Scenes

You’ll hear it said again and again: every scene of your book should have a purpose. However, some people mistake this to mean that every scene needs something big and important to happen. This isn’t true. A well-crafted and purposefully paced novel will have a balance of conflicts and resolutions.

If you’re following the Three-Act Structure (which most stories will touch on at least a little bit) your story will consist of:

set-ups

conflicts

resolutions

The Hunger Games does this amazingly. Let’s take a look:

Chapter 1 (SET-UP): Introduces us to the dystopian setting that is District 12 and shows us Katniss in her daily life.

Chapter 2 (CONFLICT): Prim’s name is drawn at the Reaping and Katniss must volunteer. This is the inciting incident of the story.

Chapter 3 (RESOLUTION): Katniss's family and friends come to say goodbye and Katniss has time to reflect.

Of course, story structures do not have to be followed strictly. You can reorder these plot points or even skip some to further fit the story you’re trying to tell.

This post is simply to remind you that while every scene should serve some kind of purpose, that purpose does not have to always be big conflicts or huge plot movements.

Here is a list of just some purposes your scene could include:

Character Development: Does your character change in this scene? Have they realized something or learned a new piece of information? Do their emotions toward a person deepen?

Information Revealed: Does your cast find out something that progresses them forward in the plot? This can be done through dialogue, action or narrative. Do they find the missing map piece? Or does a wise wizard tell them where the magical key is hidden? Does your protagonist find out that they’re adopted?

Further your World-Building: Does this scene deepen the richness of your world? Does the cast find out more about the culture or geography? Do they run into a mysterious creature or come across a magical plant?

Conflict: Is there a physical or mental obstacle in your protagonist’s way? Does an argument break out between two characters? Does an injury occur? Conflicts could be large, or minor... like a character forgetting something at home.

Build Tension: Does this scene further the suspense of your reader? Is your cast nearing the dark castle? Is a character on the brink of death? Is a steamy scene unfolding slowly? Does your protagonist feel like they’re being followed?

Instagram: coffeebeanwriting

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lovelybrooke · 9 months

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I'll wait for you (Yandere Honkai Star rail x genshin!reader).

A little bit of backstory on the reader based on the vision you guys picked a while ago. Based off this concept here.

Also, I could be entirely wrong on how you get a vision, hydro or otherwise. From the research I did, characters with hydro visions worked hard to achieve an ideal version of themselves of the world, which ties into their sense of justice (i.e.: Childe training to be stronger to serve the Tsaritsa's justice). I could be wrong but just bear with me.

Check out my other works here: Masterlist.

---

"And this is where I'm from, you see that big tree, right there." You use a finger to point to the middle of the map you laid out, towards Sumeru. Out of all the things you appeared in this strange world with, your map of Teyvat was most precious.

Yanqing's eye become saucers, a loud gasp escaping his mouth. He stands on his toes, trying to get closer to the map. "What is it called?" He questions, excitement dripping out of his mouth with every word.

You smile at his child like wonder, "It called Sumeru, it's the land of the Dendro Archon." You've told Yanqing enough about the Gods of your world for him to have a basic understanding of them. You'd often recite parts of Teyvat's history to anyone that listen and listen Yanqing did. He was the only one still interested in your stories.

Suddenly you hear footsteps, turning your head to see Yanqing waving Jing Yuan over. He takes slow strides towards you, standing next to you with a subtle smile. He leans over, placing a hand on your back as he examines the map that's spread across his table. "What are you two doing."

"They're showing me where they used to live." It was a simple sentence, but it filled you with sadness. Sumeru was still your home. Regardless of how long you've lived with the Astral Express crew, you feel alone in the vast cosmic ocean, desperately wishing to return back.

Jing Yuan lets out a hum, gazing at the map with an unreadable expression, but his lips were stuck in a thin line. Despite the anxiety it sent through your body, you ignore his expression in favor of feeding into Yanqing's curiosity.

"Yeah, I even got to study at the akademiya before getting my vision." Yanqing's raises a brow, tilting his head in confusion as he looks at you.

"You've mention that before." He said, referring to your vision, "they're like paths, are they not?" You nod, feeling Jing Yaun's eyes stuck on yours.

"From my understanding, yeah." You lean over to roll the map back up, feeling Jing Yuan's hand leave your back, which prompts a small, unnoticeable, sigh from you. "They're gifts from the Archons, usually given when someone faces adversity in some way."

Your words reinvigorate Yanqing, he runs over to examine the glowing blue vision attached to your clothes. The orb swirls with color, reflecting in the wide eyes of the young boy.

Jing Yuan's deep laugh breaks Yanqing out of his daze, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested in how you obtained yours." Yanqing nodded furiously, pulling you towards a seat to sit down.

"Yeah! How'd you get it?" You were plopped down in a seat, to overwhelmed by Yanqing's excited ranting to protest, "Oh--was it a battle? That would be so awesome!" You shook your head, not noticing Jing Yuan sitting next to you.

"No, nothing like that. In fact, it was kinda boring." You raise your hands to calm him down, slightly guilty you didn't have an extravagant story to tell. Yanqing doesn't relent, words tumbling out of his mouth so quickly you can barely understand what he was saying.

"Yanqing, calm down." You heard Jing Yuan say, his words harsh but lacking any animosity. In an instant, Yanqing quiets, looking more embarrassed than he was before.

You jump when you feel a buzzing on your side. It takes a second before you can locate your phone, pulling it out from your pocket. You fumble with it for a while, still not used to the strange devise even after weeks of using it. Right after unlocking it, you're flooded with messages from Dan Heng, March 7th, and Stella, all telling you to come to the Express before it leaves for Herta's Space Station.

"Sorry guys, I have to go." You say as you stand. Yanqing's face falls while Jing Yuan nods. You wave goodbye before heading off, your mind still on the earlier conversation.

---

"(Y/N)!" You shook awake, shooting up when you finally come to your senses. Blinking your eyes a few times at the harsh light, they focus on the person in front of you.

Alhaitham.

His face was like stone, not moving, even as your mouth widened into a yawn. You look back down, cringing at the small bit of drool left on the table, using your Akademiya uniform sleave to wipe it away.

"You slept through all class." Alhaitham said blankly, causing you to groan. You're going to have to get notes from a classmate, already knowing Alhaitham wouldn't have any. Damn him and his eidetic memory.

You stand, grabbing all your book and tucking them under your arm. Without waiting for Alhaitham, you speed out of your class, ready to get back home, unable to hear the yells coming from your friend behind you.

"(Y/N)! Wait!" He's right next to you know, slightly panting from having to catch up to you. You side eye him, still speed walking to your next class.

"Have you submitted the forms yet."

Oh right, the Driyosh forms. You've been wanting to become a traveling researcher for a long time now, unable to quell the ache that was your need for adventure. You love the Akademiya, but you need more, and you doubt you can learn just from sitting at a desk.

You nod to him, "Yeah, I got them right here." You pull them from your stack of books, Alhaitham barely waiting a second before snatching them from your hands. He hurriedly scanned them over, eyeing every letter with an increased sense of distress you were unable to detect. His hands gripped the paper tighter as he read your reasoning at the bottom of the page.

Please state your reason for wanting to switch academic course of study:

"I've felt cooped up and able to learn by simply saying at the Akademiya. I believe taking sometime out of Sumeru will help me widen my knowledge on the work."

Alhaitham didn't understand your reasoning for leaving, but he knows nothing was going to change your mind. You were stuck in your ways, unable to see past your goal once you set your mind to it. You've always talk about wanting to see the world, ever since you were children. But he somehow never realized that it would mean leaving him.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" You don't respond, just nodding as you take the papers from him. His hands were left burning and his mind was fuzzy as you entered into your class with a wave. Alhaitham knew that by the end of the day, your papers would be submitted and there would be nothing he could do to stop you.

---

"Mondstadt, that's so far!" Kaveh yells, getting a groan from Alhaitham. You giggle, ignoring Alhaitham's annoyed expression.

"Yeah, I know, but it just the right time, y'know?" Kaveh doesn't say anything, his face somewhat downtrodden. You don't see it for long before he's grasping your hands, pointing at Alhaitham in anger.

"How dare you leave me with him! I can't handle it." He sits back down with a huff, crossing his arms, "why are you even leaving?"

"You know Kaveh, the Akademiya is restrictive. I want to see the world." You take a bite of your food, sharing a small look with Alhaitham. It was impossible to read his expression. "I want to learn from the locals around Teyvat and teach people about the world. I want to make the Akademiya better." Your eyes were bright, filled with hopeful stares that managed to put both the boys at ease.

Alhaitham thinks you can do all that here, in Sumeru. The House of Daena has a ton of books about the Seven Nations and their people. You could learn the same thing here, but Alhaitham wasn't going to tell that to you. He wasn't going to ruin your dream, regardless of how mad they made him.

Kaveh smiles, he's happy for you. He really is. As long as he doesn't think about it for too long. He wishes he could go with you, but he knows this is something you have to do on your own. Maybe when you return home, you'll tell him all the wonderful things you've seen on your adventures, and he'd be happy once again.

The conversation that night never went back to you leaving, the two boys being unable to except it. Even as you left their shared home, and it was just them, they both never acknowledged that you would be leaving their lives, hoping that when they woke up, they'd see you in the morning.

---

Alhaitham hasn't seen you in years. Your given traveling period extended days, months past the time you were instructed to return. After a year past, Alhaitham assumed you weren't returning.

The entire time you were gone, you only contacted him once.

It was a letter sent to his desk at the Akademiya when he started working as Acting Grand Sage. The letter was light but weighted a ton the more he simply looked at it.

It took his forever to open it, slightly afraid of what it was going to say. After what felt like eons, he swallowed his fear and ripped open the letter.

Dear Alhaitham,

I hope this letter comes to you in a timely manner. I heard that you've become Acting Grand Sage! Congratulations! I'm super proud of you Alhaitham. I know you haven't heard from me in a while and you're probably wondering why I'm contacting you. That's a fair question, and honestly, I don't have an answer.

After exploring all around Teyvat for years, I've realized that there is so much more to learn. I've learned much more in these few years than I have in the Akademiya, and I feel way more fulfilled.

Did I tell you I finally got a vision? It was right after that last diner with you. I got back home, and it was on my pillow. How crazy is that? It's a hydro vision, and I'm still wondering why out of all the gods, why was it the God of Justice that recognized me. I should just be grateful, shouldn't I?

I hope you fix a lot about the Akademiya, Alhaitham. There is so many problems with it, and so much good it could provide if its eyes were opened to the beautiful world around them. The songs, the art, the stories, it's all so fascinating. I know you've never really been a fan of all that stuff, but I just think it'd be great, wouldn't it?

I think that's why I've spend a lot of my time as a teacher. I want knowledge to be spread all throughout Teyvat, have people know about the world around them. But even I'm still learning. Maybe once I return, I could become a teacher. That would be fun.

Anyway, I promise I'll be home soon, so just wait for me, okay Alhaitham?

Sincerely, (Y/N).

Alhaitham didn't make a sound, simply closing his eyes. He promised that he'd continue to wait for you. Regardless of how long it takes.

---

"(Y/N)" What are you thinking about?

"Nothing March, let's get going."

---

A/n: could you tell I like Althaitham?

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #honkai x reader #honkai star rail x reader #yandere honkai star rail #honkai star rail

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beefboyandbabygirl · 11 months

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Shiver Me Timbers! (18+)

pairing: pirate captain!seungcheol x siren!reader

genre: fantasy au, smut, pure smut with a fair amount of plot imo (MNDI pls), a little angst at the end

description: as seungcheol's ship drags up the shore, you watch from afar, eyes on the prize

warnings: PIRATE DIRTY TALK HELP, SLIGHT DUBCON bc hes u know a little under her spell, unrealistic ass transformation from fish 2 person, desperation, big dumb whiny cheol, bottom!cheol, kinda switch!reader, teasing, tiddie play, tiddie sucking, fairly graphic character death (drowning), seungcheol fucks yn like a ragdoll hihi, hes still bottom here tho, yn just has her tiddies OUT #progressive #2023

quotes from my proofreader: "I WAS WET!!", "he is soooo silly and sexy"

wordcount: 3.0k

“Anchor comin’ down!”

“Aye!”

There’s a mighty splash when the rusty anchor collides with the surface of the water. The chain clinks as it plummets, until it’s kicking up a storm on the sandy seafloor and the ship is safely secured. The Barbaric Seventeen is rocking like a mother rocks her young, gently swinging from the onslaught of waves from the North.

“Another safe map-navigation performed by the great Woozi!” Seungcheol speaks from where he’s perched on the head of the ship, one knee bent to sit his foot atop the wooden railing. He’s half bathed in sunlight, hot from the scorching sun over the endless sea. The shipmates clap and cheer, the odd clunk joining the cacophony from the members with missing hands. “Now go!” he commands, “Go find me my treasure, boys! It shan’t be much of a challenge for ye’s anyway!”

“Ye’s not comin’, Captain?” Mingyu calls from where the lot of them are crowding the planked deck, eyes squinted to stare at his silhouette in the sun. Seungcheol’s hat rustles as he shakes his head. “Naye, brother Mingyu. Today I will guard the Barbaric Seventeen,” he answers and pats the wooden railing like a dog.

The crewmates bugger off, one large group padding along the coast with their hooks and their scars and their swords in their belts.

“Don’t be tempted by pretty ladies out here, brother Jun!” Seokmin advises, gloomily. “There be sirens in these waters!”

“Don’t scare the kid, brother Seokmin,” Wonwoo snaps, standing on the other side of Jun, who looks at the two of them, lost and a little scared. “Sirens aren’t real.”

“Tell that to Jeremy!” Seokmin retorts, “RIP.” And then their voices are fading into the distance.

Seungcheol hardly notices their conversation, as he’s placed himself on a gathering of finely-churned sand, squinting into the sun-lit sea from the shadow of his Captain’s hat. His jacket, much too warm for the every beating rays above, has been discarded beside him, and now his chest peeks through a thin, muddied white shirt. Forever enchanted by the gentle breathing, the rise and fall of the sea, he’s quick to see you.

At first it’s simply a diamond-glisten under the surface of the water - Seungcheol knew the shine of gems, knew the way they reflected and captured the light - he half-sits up, biceps flexing as he peers in. Then, he catches the movement of something long and blue and scaly. The coasting water kisses his bare feet.

You’re smiling in the water, long, flowing hair like seaweed in the ever-turning tides. You’d spotted the ship miles back, and had followed discreetly under it. Now there’s a man alone on the shore, and you’re splashing your tail teasingly above the surface of the water, soft, rhythmic taps, beckoning him closer. Then you open your mouth and begin to sing.

Seungcheol’s stumbling to his knees, crawling on the sand. There’s a beautiful, intoxicating hum coming from the seafloor and he must, he must hear it for himself. Crawling until the water is reaching his chest, you finally strike.

Your head bursts from the water, splashing salty liquid onto the man, who’s gaping at the soft tunes from your ruby lips. You’re pushing your sopping hair back, eyes falling on him, sitting back on his knees now. You giggle, humming gently, when you lean into him. His eyes catch a diamond around your neck - the one he’d seen under the sloping water.

You’re the most beautiful woman - woman? - he’s even seen, and your chest is bare and glistening wet in the sunlight, and your cheeks are red and eyes sly. You’re leaning into him, hand brushing over his sculpted chest, poorly hidden from the soaked shirt, and you smell like the sea - you smell like home.

“Hi there,” you giggle, biting your lip at him. He’s so befuddled by you, he lets out a strangled moan at just the sight of you, before he’s recollecting himself.

“Hi,” he breathes, awestruck. He’s almost cute, you think, hip jutting into the wet sand beneath you. His eyes - unfortunately - sway downwards to your tail, and his eyebrows are furrowing. Wait a minute, he thinks, was this not what Seokmin was just talking about? “What are ye’s?” he asks, because something in his body is oozing fear, filling him like water cascades into a drowning man, and the spell is broken.

For an instant.

You see it immediately, the way the adoration leaves his eyes, and something reminiscent of disgust overtakes him at your fishy parts. Thinking fast, you grab his bigger hand in your own and press it to your chest. “Oh,” he breathes, flushing, and he’s looking at your chest, and the way it expands when you heave a breath to sing for him.

A song flows from your lungs and dances in circles around Seungcheol’s head. He can’t even remember what he was thinking about before, just feels his dick harden in his pants. Dazed and confused, the only thing grounding him is his hand, frozen on your chest and covered by your own. You smile, because he’s opening up to you like the shell of a clam.

“I’m a mermaid, silly. Don’t you want to touch me?” you whisper teasingly, emphasizing by shaking your chest and letting your tits jiggle right in front of him. He whimpers and nods, and you eye the hard-on in his lap, big and stretching the fabric of the pants to their limit. You look around, eyes catching the rock-quarry at the end of the beach, but seeing no one nearby. Then, you clumsily stretch yourself from your heavy, heavy tail, hand fondling him through the fabric. “You gotta pull me up,” you command, voice strained from the movement, and humid breath hitting his lips. He’s hissing and bucking into your hand, unable to comprehend your request.

“What?” he whines, panting and looking at your lips. Your tail is heavy as an anchor when on land, and the position is killing your back, so squeeze his chin between your fingers and grit your teeth at him. “Pull me onto land.”

He’s nodding dumbly and without even an ounce of effort, he grabs you by your waist and pushes the two of you onto dry sand. You’re immediately covered in a salve of small sand particles and moaning, really moaning, because this man is so big and strong, but so dumb, he had no trouble lifting you all the way onto land.

As soon as you’re out of the water, the diamond around your neck is glowing, turning hot against your collarbones, and Seungcheol is groaning, squeezing his eyes shut and holding a hand to shield himself from its intensity.

It stops, he sees the back of his eyelids darken and peeks open one eye, unable to help the little gasp that escapes him. You’re lying on your stomach in front of him and your tail is gone, replaced with soft human legs. Without a thought, he reaches over to touch the skin of your slippery wet new legs. You giggled at his dumbfounded expression, when his hand glides up from your thigh and squeezes your ass.

“You like it?” you chirp, and he chuckles breathlessly. “Aye.”

You push at him, crawling into his lap, all naked and soft and ready for him, hands on his chest, soothing the muscles. “That’s why we needed to be on land, silly.” You smile at him, sitting completely still in his lap, where your pussy is pressed into his crotch, and you’re nonchalantly, he feels foolish for being so beet-faced and nervous. “Well?” you begin, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “take off your clothes, dumbo!”

At your whim, he’s scrambling underneath you, shirt practically ripping, as he tears it off. His chest is so, so pretty - pale and defined and expanding into your hands. You watch him struggle with a fond smile, as you sit completely still on his crotch, even when he’s pulling his pants off. Your weight makes it damn near impossible to shimmy off. He doesn’t dare tell you to move though. Seungcheol feels like the luckiest man in the world, because your pussy is leaking onto his pants. Miraculously, he escapes the garments, and he looks up at you with a proud grin, as if he’d passed some sort of test.

“You did so well,” you coo, hand caressing his cheek and eyes shining in adoration when he nuzzles into your hand. Then your gaze drops. His cock is fucking huge and fucking red and pouring precum from the tip, oozing like blood from wound. “Let me reward you,” you whisper, satisfied when he whines and nods.

You press your thighs into his, hard, so he’s spreading his legs, a sprawled out starfish on a quarry-rock. You see his stomach tense at that, and he’s groaning. “Please, please, please.”

“Y/n. Grab my boobs.”

His hands find your tits immediately at your request, thumbs pressing into the areolas.

“Please, please, please, Y/n!” he’s yelling because it’s torture, and he’s throwing his head back to call out to God. But you’re the mightiest being present, and you push yourself up to teasingly run his cock through your folds, over and over, humming to the melody of your sticky pussy kissing his cock. “Please,” he cries.

“I don’t know,” you hum, rubbing yourself carelessly against his achingly hard cock. “I kind of like just this? Don’t you like this?”

“In, in, in!” he’s sobbing, arms flexing where they’re stretched out to hold your soft mounds, clinging to them for dear life. “Oh,” your voice is laced with fake sympathy, “Oh, you want in?”

“Please,” he gasps. You shrug in compliance, “Okay.”

Finally you pause your grinding, stopping his cock at once when you feel it, the sticky head of it creating tension at your slit. You sink down. Then you stop. The head of his cock is nuzzled in your warmth and you’re flexing your thighs to keep yourself on top of him.

“No, no, no!” he cries, bucking his hips upwards and shaking from the frustration, when your hand pushes his abdomen down. You pout: “I thought this was what you wanted? Are you not in?”

Usually, you can get away with fucking around with men in this manner, but it seems this time you’ve thoroughly miscalculated: In what felt like a split second, Seungcheol sits upright and removes his hands from your chest, anchoring them on your hips and bouncing you.

He’s pushing you down on his cock, and this time you’re the one crying out, utterly taken aback when, with seemingly no effort at all, he lifts your entire body weight and slams you down again.

He’s grunting and panting, completely enchanted by your body and your pretty moans. He grunts at the way your perfect pussy chokes his cock. You’re no better. You’ve lost all control of the situation, slipping into a cockdrunk haze and crying out again and again at the way his tip kisses your cervix.

“Beautiful, such a pretty girl, aye? Squeezin’ me cock so tight,” he grunts, and all you can do is cry, burying your head in the crook of his neck and kissing it feebly. “Mhm, ye better treat me nice next time? Hmm?” His voice is deep and baritone against the shell of your ear.

Your clit is like the x’ed out treasure on one of Seungcheol’s maps, when he snakes his hand down your soft body to rub it in messy circles. “Prettiest moans me ever heard. Say me name, sweetcheeks, say Seungcheol,” he commands and you can only comply, orgasm fizzing in your stomach at his constant onslaught.

“Seungcheol, Seungcheol, Seungcheol!” you chant as you cum, cunt squeezing his cock like you were trying to kill him. The image of your scrunched up, blissed out face and your pussy creaming on his shaft, has he himself cumming inside you, painting your walls with cum, white like seafoam. He’s rutting into you for a few last pumps, and crying into the valley of your breasts. Despite the sun burning into the skin of your back, you’re certain you see stars.

You’re breathing each other in, foreheads pressed together as you recover and smelling the stench of salt and vigor. Seungcheol is still enchanted by you, your beauty, your voice, and he’s trying to capture your lips in a kiss, when you snap your head, almost startled, and peering out to a quarry of rocks at the end of the beach. Seungcheol is still feigning for your lips, thumbs rubbing circles in your waist, when he asks you: “Are ye okay? Ye hear sumthin?”

“No,” you breathed, hesitantly ripping your eyes from the rock. You smile at him, and he leans in and you let him, but only for a peck. You’re pulling away, even when he chases your lips and whines. You giggle, suddenly slipping his dick out of you and laughing even harder when he bends over from the sensitivity.

“Come back, Y/n,” he cries softly and you’re falling standing up in the sand, just in front of the water, beautiful and stark naked and glowing in the sun. “You come to me,” you tease, but without hesitation Seungcheol scrambles to his feet to follow after you. He stops when he’s standing right in front of you again, eyes big and soulful and full of so much love for you. “I’m here,” he announces in a whisper.

“Come with me into the sea, Seungcheol,” you pout and bite your lip at him. “I can’t be here.”

“But-”

“No! It’s not safe up here. I have to go back in the water,” you make big eyes and run a hand up his big, muscular arm. “But you can come with.. My necklace can turn you into a mermaid, too..”

“Really?” he whispers, grabbing your hands and squeezing tight, simply overjoyed. He’s too dazed from his orgasm to realize what you’re asking him to leave behind. All he wants is you. You intertwine your fingers with his.

“Yeah,” you take a step back into the white foaming water, and once again your necklace begins glowing, so intense that Seungcheol once more has to close his eyes.

When they open again you’re lying in the water, still mostly out of it, and your bottom half is gone, replaced by the glittering scaly tail he saw before. You were so plump, so pretty, the way your tits bunched up in the sand.

“Help me, Seungcheol, push me into the water again,” you request weakly, arms flexing as you try to unstuck yourself from the sand that grabs at your heavy tail. “When will you turn me into a mermaid?” he asks innocently, leaning down to help drag you, still stark naked and pale body glowing in the sun. “Just- just when I’m back in the water,” you mewl, strained.

When you stop feeling the seafloor drag against your sensitive tail, you tug Seungcheol to you harshly. He falls next to you, panicked. “H-Hey!”

He’s only gone under the surface for a moment, before he bops his head over the water, black hair sticking to his forehead. Spitting out the salty liquid, pouting. “That was mean,” he complains, treading in the shallow water. You giggle, thriving in the cool slick of the sea, having missed the way the water hugs you, how it caresses and kisses and loves. That was why you needed to pay it back.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” you pout. “C’mere. Let me make it up to you.”

Seungcheol paddles himself into you and you hold him into your chest, his nose and eyelashes prodding softly at your skin. You sigh when he begins licking at the smooth skin, hands pawing your waist.

“It’s such a shame,” you frown, looking at how pretty he is, as his plump, pink lips mouth at your nipple, lashes long and pretty over his downturned eyes. He hums questioningly, not stopping his ministrations on your chest. One moment you’re gently pulling the wetted dark locks behind his ear; the next you’re fastening your arms around him, and kicking your tail.

You’re underwater. Seungcheol flinches at the initial movement, then begins thrashing in your arms, when he registers that you’re underwater. You’re ignoring how painful, how strong his hands are when he punches and wriggles in your hold, only swimming deeper, deeper, deeper. The sunlight above, fragmented from the waves surface of the water becomes sparser.

He’s even paler in the dark. You see him perfectly clear, tugging and kicking. Maybe there’s even a small hope in his chest - a hope, that this is just a little joke, and that just a moment from now, you’ll grab him by the hand and pull him back to the surface. That moment doesn’t come. Everytime he tries to push himself up, your hand is there to keep him down.

It feels like forever, and it’s more painful than any other time you’ve done it. He’s humming groans from the lack of air and when he finally gives out to gasp for air, he chokes out the most haunting noise you’ve ever heard, bubbles trailing up from his newly-dead corpse. Finally he’s still against your chest. You pull him away with a deep frown and see his face, fully relaxed now and drained of color. You hold onto him by his shoulders, hoping to memorize his face, hoping to remember him.

Then you’re releasing him and he floats downwards, hair dragging upwards, almost as if reaching for you.

He’s just another rock in the sand, you try to tell yourself, as his body is cast away to the deepest, darkest quarters of the ocean. But it doesn’t feel that way. As you swim away, humming your siren song and reverberating in the dark, bottomless depths, you can’t help but feel that this time, your victim was not just a sandcorn; he was a bright, shining pearl.

#seungcheol x reader #s.coups x reader #scoups x reader #svt seungcheol x reader #svt scoups x reader #seungcheol smut #s.coups smut #scoups smut #svt smut #svt x reader #svt x reader smut

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raayllum · 6 months

Text

Anyway notes on the poster

There's a swirly, cosmic feel, with both dark magic purple, star magic purple, as well as actual darkness/blackness that evoke the stars and a general feeling of sadness and chaos. This is per the course for Aaravos' colour associations as well as Claudia's

Her hair seems to be 3/4ths white rather than just 1/2, making me think that after 6x01 there'll be a brief timeskip and she'll have whiter hair from doing some of Aaravos' bidding. Her outfit also seems to be different (most notably the white collar) which makes sense and also invokes Kim'Dael's chain a bit.

Claudia is the only character whose never had a significant wardrobe change (Viren had his in late stage S3) in order to showcase her stagnation and preserve the secret timeskip, so post-6x01 might be her last big chance for a wardrobe change (prosthetic leg and all). Here's hoping!

The fact it looks like she's in an ocean of sorts, hair like tendrils in the water, reflects her walking into the water in both Viren's dreams (5x03) and reality (5x09): "The wave - it will swallow you up!" ("I swallowed her" —Aaravos, 5x09)

Claudia crying (as in S6 she'll be undeniably grieving and isolated) makes sense. I'm more interested in the potential eye symbolism, as eyes are accordingly important for dark magic and was a motif heavily present with Viren. Claudia being unable to 'see clearly' through the eye that metaphorically holds her human (dark haired, non dark magic) side? Yeah.

Furthermore, we also see Aaravos in the murky waters below likewise with an eye motif, a particularly bright star in the sky being a stand in for his eye. Together, perhaps, he and Claudia have 'full sight', and it may indicate that constellation's importance to him / general starry vibes, as we know (child Aaravos?) Leola is closest to Claudia on the star chart map. Pre-S4 I'd thought that star had been the south star, but we know that it and Leola's Last Wish is one and same, so it must be something different

Claudia is on the 'human' side of the star chart (where the 5 human kingdoms are) and thereby with more (but not all of her potential symbols, like the bumblescorp on the other side) of her associative symbols: the unicorn (for obvious reasons, and also tied to Leola) as well as the book three (Claudia almost walked into a tree in 1x01 because she was reading, and Callum mentions the three was planted 300-ish years ago, which would line up with the Orphan Queen's origins).

Listen to me. Listen. Claudia is one half of the star chart. I am willing to bet $5 whole ass dollars that a Callum poster will follow up where he is the other half, because he and Claudia are Aaravos' primary puppets going forward. (Would also parallel their dual set up from the "Lost" and "Found" S5 posters.) I need it.

That said if it's not Callum, 1) Viren (as a leftover pawn who cannot escape) and 2) Rayla (as motivation for Callum, much the same way Claudia has been motivation for Viren, and building on their arc 2 parallels thus far) are my next best guesses.

Frothing at the mouth. Gnawing my own leg off. Thank you for everything

#tdp #the dragon prince #official art #tdp claudia #promo art #s6 spoilers #possibly #s6 #arc 2 #predictions #mini meta #analysis series #analysis #tdp spoilers

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wraithlafitte · 3 months

Text

maps

pairing: soulless!sam x f!reader

CONTENT: SMUT, marking, daddy kink, choking, dacryphilia, s&m, unprotected piv, cum control, light degradation at the end

word count: 1.6k

a/n: takes place in the same week as crazy on you. valentine's day oneshot from this prompt by @iamasaddie. sorry it's not a pedroverse character! it fit this series too well to pass up, and i still wanted to participate 😭

Sam's dark hair brushed against your stomach as he ghosted his lips down your torso. Goosebumps rose on your skin from his feather-light touches, and you shivered. Sam glanced up and smirked at your reaction, then set to work on what he meant to do that night: cover your body in bruises that marked you as his, for the time being.

You moaned softly, pressing your head back into the pillow, as he connected his lips to the soft flesh of your stomach. He sucked and nibbled gently at first, but Sam could never be gentle for too long. He couldn't keep himself from biting down voraciously, scraping his teeth over as much skin as he could get his mouth around at once. You hissed from the sting and squirmed underneath him.

Sam ignored you, attaching his lips to your sternum and focusing his efforts between your breasts. He was making a trail for himself. A map of his favorite places on your body, the places he had found to be your most sensitive nerve endings.

Your breasts were certainly one of those places. His hair tickled your skin as he kissed up the side of your breast, and you giggled and squirmed again.

Sam flicked his eyes up to you and lifted his head to speak. "Stay still." He punctuated his command by holding your hip firmly, pushing you into the mattress.

"Sorry, sir," you said breathlessly. "Just... it tickles." You giggled again as his tongue darted out to tease your nipple.

"Remember what the rules are today?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Oh," you remembered. "Sorry, daddy." You smiled innocently at him.

Sam growled and returned to his efforts, licking and biting away at the soft swells of your chest, leaving pinkish-purplish splotches in his wake. You hummed with pleasure, reflecting the pleasant hum filling your body at his touch. One of your hands carded through his hair, holding him close.

At once, Sam jerked up and snatched your hand away, glaring down at you. You shrunk a little. You had forgotten another rule: don't touch unless given permission. You were supposed to be a pillow princess today, just lying there and taking whatever he gave you.

"Do I need to tie you down?" he sneered. "Or are you gonna be a good girl?" He cocked his head like an animal.

You gasped, a wave of arousal plummeting to your core. You loved the way he switched up just like that, like he was suddenly no longer pretending to be nice.

"I'll be good, daddy, I promise," you rushed. Your need for him skyrocketed with every twitch of his eyebrow and quirk of his mouth. You stilled your trembling body as much as you could, looking at him pleadingly.

Sam gave you a look like you'd better and bit down on your shoulder. His hair tickled in the sensitive crook of your neck. That, coupled with the feeling of his mouth on your skin, almost made you flinch away, but you managed to stay still.

You could feel his hard cock dragging against your thigh. You had to be good for him so he would give it to you.

Your other shoulder jerked into your jaw as Sam lightly ran his fingers up your neck.

"Oh- not fair," you whimpered as Sam raised his head to meet your eyes in a disapproving glare. "You did that on purpose."

"Seems like someone has no self-control," he said. The offending hand crept around your neck slowly.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it," you whined.

"You need to learn some control," Sam decided. The glimmer in his eye made you wish you had no reflexes and that you could lay perfectly still for him. But he had played dirty, which you were beginning to suspect was his plan all along.

Sam's hand tightened on your throat as he simultaneously pushed his cock into your dripping hole. You moaned raspily, at once feeling so full of him. You didn't think you'd ever get used to his size. He wasn't massive, but he was definitely bigger than the toy you usually used on yourself. And most other men you'd had the displeasure of sleeping with, you thought.

For a moment, you really couldn't breathe, and a tear squeezed past your lid. You stared at Sam desperately and were met with a look of apathy as he leaned his partial body weight onto your throat. He stayed like that, completely still, for what felt like minutes. He had a curious expression on his face, like an addict presented with his vice, fighting the temptation to give in. You found yourself wondering if he was actually about to strangle you.

Then he dropped his weight onto his elbow and began fucking you, hard and fast, keeping his hand around your throat. You heaved great breaths in but the force of his thrusts kept knocking the wind out of you. Tears fell freely now, but it was more of a reflexive bodily response again. You weren't exactly afraid, and you didn't know why.

Sam shifted slightly and then he was hitting a spot deep inside you that had you seeing stars. Your gasps became moans as pleasure began to build rapidly inside you. The hand at your neck applied slight pressure that had you feeling lightheaded, like you were soaring away on a cock induced out-of-body experience.

"I'm gonna come," you choked out, gasping and whining against his neck. The ceiling went blurry and your core tightened around him. "I'm gonna- oh fuck, daddy!"

You writhed in his grasp, and Sam once again met your eyes with a firm expression.

"Hold it," came the command.

Your eyes widened. "I can't! It's too much, oh fuck-" You arched your back into him, pressing your chests together.

Sam held your gaze, his strong hand around your throat directing your face toward him. "Do not come until I say you can, understand?" His face scrunched up and he groaned as your cunt clenched tightly around him.

You whined as he pounded into you, now focused desperately on your new task. Your face screwed up with effort as you tried to deny your body what it wanted so badly; what it was made to do. His cock bruised your cervix, hitting so deeply again and again. The blinding pleasure you felt was painful now as you struggled to hold off your incoming orgasm.

"Hurts," you whimpered, sobs beginning to overtake your body. "I can't do it anymore daddy, I can't I can't-"

Sam cut you off with a deep kiss, thumb loosening his iron grip to brush gently over your chin and wipe away the droplets accumulating there. "Shhhh," he soothed when he broke away, smiling in that strangely unfeeling way.

The knot inside you threatened to snap at any moment. Every muscle in your body was taut, ready for release. They shook with effort as your will overpowered them... for now.

"Please," you tried again, tears now streaming down your face.

“Baby, you know Daddy only hurts you because you look so pretty when you cry.”

A sob wracked your body. Your eyes began to sting as you blinked the tears out, letting them fall down the sides of your face, running into your hair, your neck, your ears.

Sam rewound his hand across your throat, applying the pressure that made you feel like you were flying. "Almost there," he cooed.

Your orgasm felt like it was about to explode through you, and you suddenly thought this might be how Mt. St. Helens felt before she blew her lid. Sam's thrusts became rougher, signaling that he was nearing his end as well.

He reached down with his other hand and started rubbing your sensitive clit, shifting his weight back to the arm holding your neck and increasing the pressure. You gasped as best you could and your hands flew down to wrap around his wrist before quickly letting go, remembering the no-touching rule. "I won't be able to- fuck, daddy, I can't hold it!" you cried brokenly.

"Good," Sam breathed, voice gravelly. "Come for me, baby."

You tried to relax at his command, and it only took seconds before your body took over, sending your orgasm roaring through you. You could see why he insisted you hold it, and not just to train you - the combination of his dizzying grip and the orgasm shaking your body almost made you black out.

A string of whimpers and moans fell from your lips as the overwhelming pleasure became almost painful, too much to bear. You became vaguely aware of the hot, liquidy feeling of Sam's cum seeping into you, but the pleasure rushing through you had wiped your mind of any thoughts or implications that might have.

You felt Sam pull out, and you blinked rapidly to clear the white fuzz clouding your vision. Your ears rang from the force of your orgasm. You turned your head weakly to the side, where Sam lay panting. He turned his head and looked at you, smiling without that unfeeling bullshit from before. You smiled faintly back, proud that you had brought some semblance of a happy feeling to him.

Sam leaned forward to kiss you, then pulled away, leaving your sweaty forehead pressed to the damp hair covering his. "Such a good little slut for me," he praised softly, making you shiver. "Gonna have more self-control, now, right?"

"Yes, daddy," you half-said, half-moaned, spent.

He smiled and snaked his arm across your waist to grab you by the hip and pull you into his arms. "Good."

dividers by @cafekitsune

#supernatural #spn #supernatural smut #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester x you #sam winchester #soulless!sam #userwraith

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deception-united · 5 days

Note

I have all these plot points and scenes but I don't know how to connect them in the whole story.

How can I bridge them?

Bridging plot points and scenes is a crucial step in crafting a cohesive story, and every writer's struggle. Here are some strategies that can help:

Character Arcs: Ensure that your plot points and scenes contribute to the development of your characters. Each scene should challenge your characters in some way and drive them toward their goals or reveal something new about them. Look for opportunities to tie the events of your story back to your characters' motivations, desires, and flaws. (See my post on character arcs for more!)

Cause and Effect: Establish clear cause-and-effect relationships between your plot points and scenes. Each event should have consequences that propel the story forward. If one scene ends with a character making a decision or taking action, the following scene should show the effects of that choice or action.

Foreshadowing and Callbacks: Use foreshadowing to hint at future events and callbacks to reference earlier ones. This creates a sense of cohesion and resonance throughout your story. Look for ways to plant seeds early on that will pay off later, and revisit earlier plot points or motifs to reinforce themes and connections.

Transitions: Pay attention to the transitions between scenes. Smooth transitions can help maintain momentum and keep readers engaged. Consider using transitional elements such as time jumps, location changes, or shifts in perspective to connect disparate scenes and move the story forward.

Subplots and Themes: Explore how your plot points and scenes contribute to subplots and overarching themes in your story. Subplots can add depth and complexity to your narrative, while themes provide a unifying framework that ties everything together. Look for opportunities to weave together multiple threads of your story to create a rich tapestry of interconnected events.

Pacing: Consider the pacing of your story and how it affects the flow of events. Balance moments of action and tension with quieter, reflective scenes to create a dynamic narrative rhythm. Pay attention to the pacing of individual scenes as well, ensuring that each one serves a purpose and moves the story forward.

Revising and Polishing: Finally, don't be afraid to revise and polish your story to strengthen the connections between plot points and scenes. As you review your manuscript, look for areas where the narrative feels disjointed or where transitions could be smoother. Experiment with rearranging scenes or adding new ones to fill gaps and improve the overall flow of your story.

Try making a mind map, timeline, or chapter outline to help you figure everything out and find any gaps or plot holes. Hope this was helpful!

#ask #writeblr #writing #writing tips #writing advice #writing help #writing resources #creative writing #book writing #plot development #narrative #deception-united

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fayes-fics · 6 months

Text

Enthralled

Pairings: Vampire!Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader x Thomas Dorset

Summary: You and your new husband invite a handsome stranger to your rooms, but all is not as it seems...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, MMF threesome, dom/sub undertones, bisexual male characters, slash content, oral sex (f to m, m to m, m to f) blow jobs, deepthroat w smidge of breathplay, facesitting, edging/orgasm control, vaginal sex, anal sex, simultaneous penetration, multiple orgasms, biting, bloodplay, blood-drinking.

Word Count: 9k

Authors Note: The reader remix of this story. A gothic-ish Halloween threesome with Vampire!Benedict. This is my first foray into writing slash content. If you are looking for a plot or backstory, this will likely disappoint; it's just an excuse for vaguely spooky, unrelenting smut - I cannot celebrate a holiday any other way lol. I wanted to choose a minor show character as the husband, and Dr Dorset screams secretly adventurous to me. Please heed the warnings above; this is pretty full-on. If you proceed, I hope you enjoy! <3

Credits: Thanks to @colettebronte for advice and betaing and @eleanor-bradstreet for her Vampiric expertise. Artwork includes edits made weeks ago for this story by our dearly departed @bridgertontess. Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Benedict smells it long before he ever sees you.

Fresh blood, sweet young bodies in the flushes of arousal; it makes him hungry in every sense of the word. The almost painful need to feast and fuck. He inhales deep, lewdly, letting the tempting scents fill his being. He pulls on his cloak and goes out to find you.

—

Mrs Dorset.

You practice the name, sitting at the vanity table of your rooms at the inn, feeling cosy in the soft candlelight glow as the autumnal wind howls portentously beyond the window. The quill scratches the paper as you loop the letters, learning the structure of your new name as it flows under your hand.

“What are you doing, my love?” Thomas rounds behind you, returning to your rooms with steaming hot tea as promised.

“I am practising my new name,” you reply proudly, twisting to look up at your husband of merely two days as he places aside the tea tray, squeezing your shoulders lightly.

“Oh, I see, that is… well, that is wonderful,” his cadence wavering. It seems as if he is embarrassed at how something as simple as your desire to write his name could make him burn physically, the glistening, dark, looped strokes causing a primal wash of possession. His fingers flex instinctually, mapping your collarbone, your flesh irresistible under his fingertips. You squeak as he rocks his body into your back, something insistent pressing into your spine.

“Husband,” you drawl, meeting his eye in the vanity mirror. “Are you aroused?” Your question isn't judgemental, but pure curiosity and desire, leaning back into him.

“Yes, darling wife. You have my name. It is…. Appealing,” he answers honestly, a touch winded, his fingers trailing lower over your warm skin onto the swell of your breast.

Your eyes flash in the reflection, and then suddenly, you spin around on the stool and bury your face into his trousers, nuzzling his hardness. His growl is deep and wracked. So utterly undone by how forthright you can be with your intentions.

You look up at him, fluttering your eyelids as you pluck open his trousers determinedly, push down his underwear, and wrap your hands around the back of his thighs to draw him even closer. Immediately you encase his tasty warm cock in your mouth, so very keen for him.

He groans to the ceiling as if disbelieving in his luck.

—

Benedict finds himself outside the quaint country inn barely a quarter mile from his country home. No wonder he could smell it so strong.

As he stares up at a mullioned window, russet leaves swirling around his feet on this cold, crisp night, he sees the glowing candlelight signifying the room’s occupation. Indeed, it is the only one lit as such on the first floor. He surmises the couple are likely newlyweds, perhaps passing through the area on their honeymoon—the first ones who have done so since he was turned a few months back.

While he has trained himself on the scent of the people in the proximal area and taught himself they are not food, he is powerless to resist this. Them. From scent alone, they are in their twenties, and right now, they are engaging in something carnal. He can smell ripe juices swirling in the air along with the thronging of their hearts, blood coursing. It makes his cock strain painfully against the wool of his britches.

He never used to be like this—a creature of such base instinct. Yes, when human, he had his fair share of lovers of all persuasions, but it had been an occasional bacchanalian indulgence. Now. Now, he can barely contain himself. His tongue licks around the point of his fang, tasting the air, knowing without a doubt they will be under his thrall within moments of meeting and lost in a temporary reverie of how he will enjoy them.

—

“Y/n….” it’s throaty, raw, wrecked, a hand buried in your locks.

His taste is strong in your mouth as Thomas flops back upon the bed, utterly sated after he finds completion. You had pushed him backwards from the vanity table onto the edge of the bed and sunk to your knees before him, eagerly taking him into your mouth, motions wanton, brazen, your skill and enthusiasm blossoming under his few days of tutelage. Learning his body and needs; learning to use your tongue in ways that make him breathless and unerringly grateful.

You delicately wipe your chin of his seed with a handkerchief and rise to your feet as gracefully as you can as he lays there panting, staring at the velvet drapes over the four-poster bed, his mind blanked out from pleasure.

“Husband,” you coo in a light tease, “I do believe it is now time we took dinner; 'tis nearing 7pm.”

Thomas pouts, looking as if he wants to feast only upon you, not mere food. The grumble in his stomach, though, gives away his status, and your giggle makes him sit up reluctantly, tucking himself back into his trousers and righting his clothes.

“I suppose sustenance is required,” he smiles indulgently, standing up and wrapping you in his arms. “If only to provide energy for our later activities,” he adds teasingly into your ear; a light shiver runs through your being as he says it.

“Then let us eat, Dr Dorset,” you murmur into his jaw, running a hand down his waistcoat. Feeling light as air, you gigglingly tumble down the hallway and staircase to the public house below, wrapped up in each other’s arms, barely noticing the tall, cloaked figure as it slips in through the main door.

—

Benedict nods to Jenkins, the publican and innkeeper behind the bar; locals always having an open invitation to drink and dine any night of the week. Tonight, the public house is deserted save for a regular - drunkard Willie, propping up the corner of the bar as ever - and the newlywed couple now ensconced in an alcove by the roaring fireplace.

He sets eyes upon you both properly, and his insides almost feel warm. You are both beautiful in ways that make him ache. The man is tall, fair of face and built handsomely. You are just his type of woman physically with a spirited mien that looks like you would be the very best kind of challenge to tame. He longs to strip you both naked and run his tongue down your healthy contours, revel in your bodies, coursing with life.

Taking the brandy awaiting him on the bar, he glides towards you, flicking up his velvet collar as he does so, knowing of his powers and how to wield them to his advantage when needs must.

“Welcome to Wiltshire,” his opening gambit, smooth and dusky, raising his glass.

Both you and Thomas look up, startled at a handsome stranger’s interruption to your intimate conversation. Still, Benedict doesn't miss for a second how both of your eyes dilate rapidly.

“Thank you, kind sir,” Thomas Dorset stumbles, raising his glass without thought in a silent responding toast.

“Please call me Benedict. May I join you?” his ask is unfaulteringly polite, but with a lopsided grin, he has long learned is his ticket to everything he may want in this world.

Dorset immediately gestures for him to do so, despite himself, and Benedict slides smoothly onto the bench seat across from them with a dramatic swish of his ample velvet cloak.

“And you are?” he smiles at you both expectantly.

“Oh, where are my manners!?” Thomas decries as if snapping back to reality. “I am Dr Thomas Dorset, and this,” his arm wraps tighter around your shoulders, “is my wonderful new wife, Mrs y/n Dorset.”

You smile at Benedict; he can sense your apprehension at this stranger joining them but also hears your heart fluttering just a fraction harder as he meets your gaze. Can smell the uptick in your bodily response, a new tang to your natural scent that speaks of piqued interest. He knows with just a few well-deployed lingering looks and chosen words, he could throw you over the table right here in front of your husband and fuck you so well you would beg him for more. Again, he is grateful for the cloak he wears, hiding the bulge in his clothing that has barely slaked since your arrival to the area.

“It is so wonderful to meet you both,” he drawls, running a finger over his bottom lip to draw attention to his mouth. If you stare long enough, the thrall will be so easy. “What brings you to our fine village?”

“We are passing through on our way to Cornwall for our honeymoon,” Dorset confirms what Benedict already suspected.

“This is rather off the beaten path to such a place,” Benedict states dryly with a wink, knowing he is reeling you in with every word he utters.

“Indeed,” Thomas concedes, “my new wife insisted we come via this route to allow us to call upon her sister during our journey.”

Benedict smiles, subtly scenting your bodies as you and Thomas lean in without realising, falling under his spell.

“Well then, I insist I purchase your dinner and drinks this evening,” he declares, watching bemused as you both attempt to remonstrate. “I will not accept no for an answer,” he appends, victory glowing as you acquiesce, not realising this will be the first of many permissions you will grant him tonight, all being well.

—

You chew upon the venison slowly, one eye on your additional party, still unsure why he has chosen to join you and, indeed, pay for your meal when he apparently is not eating himself. Engaging you in conversation that seems peculiarly beguiling and dangerous all at once.

He is undoubtedly attractive. Hazy blue eyes under a mass of chestnut hair, a pale-skinned face with exquisite sharp lines. Feeling guilty to admit it silently, you find him just as attractive as your husband, maybe more so—something so hypnotic in how he holds himself, moves, and speaks. Finding yourself drawn to him, a stirring in your underwear that you swear he can sense. Every time a little frisson runs through your body, his head unerringly swings towards you, a slight curl in his luscious lip, like he is smelling your arousal and thinks it the tastiest treat in the world.

You could swear he is trying to steal you from your husband - and to your horror, you realise you would absolutely let him - except… his attention is just as rapt upon Thomas. Benedict’s gaze is just as covetous when he speaks. His tongue flicks the corner of his mouth as your husband casually leans back and crosses his legs—as if Benedict is scenting his body, too. It's confusing but intoxicating, as if your wine is laced with a far more potent substance.

—

Benedict knows he has won you both over before you put down your dessert spoons, now hanging on his every word.

“Let us repair to somewhere more intimate for a nightcap,” he suggests, and your joint responding consent is instant. “How about your rooms here at the Inn?”

Were you in your sound, sober minds, it seems unlikely you would invite a stranger to your rooms, but as it is, you enthusiastically do. Benedict snags the remainder of the brandy bottle from the bar as he settles the bill.

“Friends of yours?” Jenkins frowns, vaguely intrigued.

“Everyone is a friend yet to be made, Jenkins,” Benedict answers, intentionally vague.

Jenkins rolls his eyes. “Bloody poets…” he is heard to mutter under his breath, but Benedict lets it pass. If the man invoked the name Byron, perhaps he wouldn't have. Might have stolen a chicken or two from the coup outside to exsanguinate in revenge.

Benedict trails behind you, both pleasantly inebriated now, holding the wood panelling as you negotiate the narrow corridors of the inn to your rooms, inhibitions lowered. He knows you are just in that sweet spot where you will be so open to suggestions but not so out of your minds to be a pointless fuck, unable to respond. There is nothing less appealing to him than a lifeless, limp, unconscious being. Yes, easy to feed upon, perhaps, but no challenge. The only thrill he gets these days is that of the chase. Of the crackling potential of any moment, human hearts beating wildly in his presence, blood pumping hard—that is what brings him exhilaration.

—

Dorset fumbles the heavy iron key in the lock, leaning into you as you giggle along with him. The attractive, imposing man stood patiently behind you, seemingly sober, which is impressive given he drank more than you both. Still unsure what is possessing him to allow this, Thomas nevertheless feels compelled to do this man’s bidding, to allow this whatever he wishes.

It may be a secret he has kept from you, but Dorset is not immune to the charms of a handsome man. In his youthful days at Cambridge, he had many a clandestine encounter with his fellow students. Late drunken nights of experimentation. He knows the power of a man’s touch, enjoying the taboo feeling of being taken roughly, clawing the mattress as he is mounted without mercy. A man's body may differ greatly from a woman’s, but it is no less of an attractive wonderland.

Little does he know just how soon you will learn of that predilection.

—

You twirl around the room as the men take a seat and pour more liquor, feeling ebullient, basking in the heat of the fire on this cold autumn night, dizzy and fizzling with energy. You feel the gaze of both men, knowing both track your moments from the wingtip chairs they inhabit. Your insides feel ripe and pulpy, compelling you to be daring, a peculiar impulse to strip and dance naked in front of them.

There must have been something in my drink. Surely?

Your husband interrupts just as you think to act.

“Darling, come sit with us,” Thomas appeals, patting his knee enticingly.

He would never typically invite you to sit upon him in the company of a stranger, but everything about tonight feels different, so you allow yourself to be swept into it. To see what may arise with the handsome, mysterious visitor.

You float over and sigh as you fall into Thomas’ lap, the heat of his leg seeping through your dress, warming your bottom. He pulls you snugly into his lap, bumping a stirring hardness and without a doubt, you know this evening will go somewhere you never expected…. And yet, you can't wait for it to do so.

“Isn't my wife beautiful?” Dorset slurs, his breath hot on your ear, turning you both to face Benedict in the chair next to you as if he is seeking his approval for his choice of spouse.

“Indeed she is,” Benedict responds, dark and silky, a shiver tracing down your spine as he voices it. “As are you handsome, good sir,” he adds, and you know they are very much out of your depth as you feel the same shudder pass through your husband's being beneath you.

Oh, good lord, who is this man?

—

Benedict sees you reacting to his voice, sees the ripple in your beings, hears it in your breathing, and knows he has you fully enthralled. You are his to do precisely as he wants now. Tumbling images flash through his mind as to how he can have both of your bodies—sweat and skin, blood and bone, moving together in a carnal symphony.

His instinct is to take you and then your husband. He can see the willingness there, but he’ll need more enticing to allow that dormant flame to be relit. Perhaps watching you, his new wife, give yourself so readily will be just the nudge he needs to submit, also.

So when Thomas turns to Benedict, offering you on the plate that is his lap, he decides this is the moment to strike. Downing the rest of his glass, he stands and tugs at the string of his velvet cape, which falls to the floor with a heavy whump… to reveal his fitted cropped jacket and tight britches, tailored in black fabric like a second skin, giving away everything about what he has to offer.

He hears your sharp inhales at the unmistakable tented outline.

“Desire is such a funny thing, is it not?” he rumbles, moving closer, and your legs fall apart on instinct, the air suddenly filled with a potent scent of your arousal that makes his tongue itch to taste.

“In what way?” Thomas hitches, his hands grabbing your waist reflexively as Benedict can hear his heartbeat in his breathy cadence.

“You both want me, and yet you offer your wife to me first,” Benedict assesses cooly, raising an eyebrow as he takes a step closer, watching you squirm as your eyes are transfixed on his cock.

“I did nothing of the sor…” Thomas’s response dies on the spot as one long, slender finger lands on his lips, hushing him, a sharp fingernail resting under his nose.

“We both know you did,” Benedict argues laconically, “And lucky for you…” Benedict almost chuckles as you gasp when his other hand cups your jaw. “…She wants me too. Right now, her thighs are soaked with delicious slickness; I can smell it,” he states casually, holding you both.

“Is that true?” Thomas inquires, side-eying you but not moving under Benedict's finger.

“Yes,” you exhale shakily, unable to peel your gaze from Benedict's face now he has tilted your jaw up to him. “I want him, husband,” you confess raggedly, not knowing why you are voicing it. “And I want you to watch, to participate.”

Benedict chuckles again. “Of course, you do, little one. You love him, even if you are tempted by the fruit of another.” He traces a knuckle down over your chin, your throat, where your pulse is beating wildly, pausing on your clavicle. You know your eyes are wide and beseeching, begging for more.

Benedict swings his gaze to Thomas, then leans in. “If you truly love your wife, you will kiss me right now,” he taunts, his lips hovering so close, “give her a good show; I need her trembling before I take her.”

Come on, sweet prince, dance with me.

—

Thomas can barely comprehend what is transpiring. But he doesn't want to fight it. The man’s finger is cool on his lip as he poses the question. You are writhing deliciously in his lap, making his cock swell painfully against the cleft of your bottom. The next decision is inevitable, fated.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

He gently purses his lips and gives permission by bussing a featherlight kiss onto Benedict’s finger. The predatory smile that unfurls across the man’s face doesn't seem human, more akin to creature than man.

Then his jaw is tilted back, and his world swims as the man closes the few inches between their faces and kisses him. It's biting, hungry, desperate. A skilled tongue rolls over his, and Thomas feels a groan bubble up from deep inside. Possessed, overwhelmed, taken. Benedict tastes like sin but something odd like decay, too, at the edges of the fragrant brandy—some tart undercurrent that is wholly otherworldly and unnerving.

Thomas feels as much as he hears your moan. Feels the weight of your gaze glued to their faces, no doubt seeing a peak of their tongues entwining. Feels the weight of your body in his lap, moving rhythmically, grinding insistently, tilting your hips forward brazenly to drag your clit over the creases in his trousers. Your shameless want and desire are potent and arousing. Even as Benedict’s kiss steals his breath, a faint voice in his head gnaws about your actions being as inexplicable as his, but it's mostly drowned out by the roar of blood pumping hard in his system, seeming so loud around this man, as if he is in tune with it somehow.

As Benedict pulls back, Thomas's vision swims, awash with sensation. He watches, dazed, as the pale man turns and captures your mouth just as covetously.

—

You have only known the passionate kiss of one man—your husband. Yet a mere three days after your first mind-blowing experience of that, you have another first. Your first kiss with another, a whole other creature, not that you can likely comprehend. Unaware of the dance with death.

When Benedict turns and seizes your lips, you peep in surprise. But he swallows the noise, opening your mouth with his tongue, the kiss instantly intense. It's more of a take than the pliant dance you usually share with Thomas. A plundering that floods your senses and steals every breath from your lungs leaving you feeling shaky, unmoored, and taken somewhere dark that is metallic and brimstone. His kiss seems at once ephemeral and infinite. No wonder your husband looked dazed. As Benedict withdraws, the smile on his face is rapacious.

He suddenly pulls both of you to your feet, like ragdolls for him to puppet. Wrapping you up in a joint embrace, he whispers for you both to strip before releasing you just as swiftly, taking a seat on the edge of the imposing bed. As if in a trance, you begin undoing your own clothing.

“Nuh-uh,” Benedict clucks, holding a halting hand that you instantly obey. “Undress each other, my precious ones,” he elucidates, wanting a show.

Your heart thrums as you turn to your husband and he to you. Invisible strings seem to direct your frantic movements as you paw at each other, fabrics tearing in your swift pursuit of skin. You only stop panting wildly and staring when nothing is left, both frowning in confusion at the flurry and intensity of it.

What on earth just happened?

Uncertainty roils oleaginous in your stomach as if, on a gut level, your body is trying to send a warning signal. Still, at the same time, it feels detached and far away, as if your mind is in another realm, a place of edgy desire and boundless pleasure.

—

“Well, that was quite the brief show,” Benedict pipes up, bemused. “Not that I am complaining,” he adds, smirking, his eyes raking you both greedily as he runs a casual finger down his cheek.

Your bodies are ideal, as he suspected. The man is tall and lithe, not unlike himself, his skin pale and smooth, his cock, aroused and leaking, springing from a small thatch of hair that tapers to a narrow point under his belly button. So far, so similar. His cock is nice, sizeable but not intimidating, and weirdly he feels pleased for the woman. It is not as good as his cock; he's a Bridgerton, for Pete's sake, but entirely up for the task of bringing satisfaction to anyone who interacts with it. You are his ideal shape, your contours reminding him of a violin. And such an apt metaphor, your strings so ripe to be plucked, to be properly played, perhaps for the first time.

But mostly, what he tastes thick in the air of the heated room is your fluids. The rush of fresh blood pumping vigorously from your hearts, pulses elevated by the thrall. Sticky, sweet, and life-giving for him and you both. He is so glad he feasted on local farmstock before picking up your scent; otherwise, you would both be dead right now at his feet, lifeless and pale, every drop coursing through his mouth and swirling in his stomach like the indulgent meal your very hearty lifeforce represents. His hunger is slaked just enough that lust is his primary driver, at least for now.

He opens his mouth, engaging all the olfactory senses like a feline. Since he passed, his ability to pick up scents has been both a blessing and a curse, but right now, the best possible outcome from the dreaded experience.

Thomas’ precum is deliciously sharp, perhaps a shade too much. Benedict makes a mental note to offer him the luxury of some pineapple should this entanglement last longer than tonight, with them both still upon this mortal plain. You would undoubtedly be grateful for the improvement in his flavour, too.

As for you… his mouth froths. Your scent is sin itself to him, honeyed but also sharp like an undeveloped apple still clinging to the tree. A swirl of flavour in the air so plush, it takes all his willpower not to throw you to the ground and drink from between your legs. Knowing it would only take a blip, a momentary loss of careful control, to sink in his fangs, mixing your juices with your blood, what an absolute symphony of flavour that would be.

He realises he is staring at you both, panting lasciviously, lost in the jumble of scent and potential. You awaiting his next order, not even realising yourselves in suspended animation.

“Dorset, lie in the middle of the bed,” Benedict orders gruffly, drawing himself to his feet and standing aside.

Thomas does as bidden, his cock bobbing as he climbs onto the raised mattress and settles as instructed, looking at Benedict bright-eyed, awaiting any subsequent command.

“Watch me,” Benedict tutors you, then he crawls over your husband and, without preamble, takes the man's cock deep into his mouth as Thomas howls like he did for you earlier tonight.

—

Thomas almost hits the ceiling as his cock is suddenly surrounded by strong suction, vacuumed into Benedict's mouth. In fact, Benedict keeps sinking, and Thomas pants in shock as his tip slides into the man’s throat, something he has not had in many a year. The tightness, the pure depth of sensation. It seems strange the man does not need to take a breath or even fight as if there is air in his lungs, but dammit all to hell if this isn't already the most exquisite blow job of his entire life. Benedict apparently has no gag reflex; holding him deep, a mind-bogglingly long tongue unfurls to curl around his balls and lick covetously, a wet muscular stroke over his most sensitive skin that has his fingers curling into the sheets. He cannot school the booming, guttural groan. If he had not come merely an hour ago, thanks to his dearest you, he would likely be embarrassingly close to orgasm already; this man’s skill stupendous, another edge that doesn't seem human.

Thomas looks over frantically to you, his eyes bulging in shock, and he groans again at the sight of you. Your mouth hung open, lips rosy and damp, you have your fingers buried between your legs now, and there is a faint, lewd, wet sound as you invade your cunt with your fingers, just as he taught you on your wedding night. The sight before you is too beautiful and arousing to resist; you know your nipples are puckered, and Thomas’s tongue longs to run over them.

He wants to fuck and be fucked, sandwiched between you, his ravishing vixen of a wife, and this devil of a man, sucking his very life essence via his cock, intent on draining him dry. Just as Thomas feels a flush all over his body and a tightening in his sac, Benedict pulls up and away, smirking victoriously as he twists towards you, ignoring Thomas’ huffed, wretched pleas.

No! No, please, please do not leave me in this state!

—

You self-consciously whip your hands away from between your legs, and your eyes cut to Benedict as he addresses you.

“That is how you ensure your husband here never leaves you, little one,” he coos, running a thumb provocatively around his drooped lower lip, licking his thumbpad of every flavour. “Now it's your turn; show me what you can do.”

Benedict reaches out a draped hand. You take it, his touch light, helping you hop onto the bed to join them. He snatches your other hand and brings the fingers you had buried in your cunt up to his nose, sniffing lewdly.

Oh my god, this man is feral.

“I'm glad you enjoyed the show so much,” he smirks, running his nose up and down each digit. “Now I am going to taste you, darling girl,” it's low, akin to a threat. “You will sit on my face as you take his cock in your mouth, but do not let him come. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” you breathe, scarcely believing what he says. Benedict scowls slightly as he drops your hand.

“Don't call me sir, call me Count,” he snaps.

“Yes, Count,” you amend dutifully, and his smile, yet again, is devilish.

“Good, now ensure your husband is mindless with need while I provide you the same favour,” he purrs and slides under you with balletic grace.

Butterflies roar in your stomach as you feel the sharpness of Benedict's cheekbone press the skin of your inner thighs, draping yourself forward into your husband’s lap and tentatively licking a strip up his weeping cock as he mumbles your name weakly and moans.

Then you scream as a muscular tongue parts your folds with a force Thomas has never subjected you to. Whip-like, lashing your swollen clit with determined spirals before plunging lower and pushing far into your cunt, further than your husband's tongue has ever dared. Your groan is smothered as you take Thomas’ tip into your mouth, needing the distraction. Benedict’s hands grasp your hips and pull you down forcefully onto his face, his nose jammed against your pubic bone. Thomas has never been this engaged, devouring, a violent delight. You garble a curse around the cock, hurtling towards ecstasy as Thomas’ whole body tenses under you.

“Don't let him come,” Benedict reminds, words gusting hot over your slit, sensing what the man’s body signifies better than you do.

You pull off and breathe raggedly, staring up at your husband’s wrecked pleading face, where he leans on the headboard.

What is this? You mouth at him, nearly scared of how good it feels to ride Benedict's face so brazenly.

—

“Do not stop; use him, darling,” Thomas practically snarls through gritted teeth.

He is utterly enthralled by seeing another man taking you somewhere wild and untamed. The look of equal parts shock, fear and bewildered pleasure on your face is a picture he wants to remember forever.

He groans as you follow his advice, wrapping a hand loosely around his cock, a tease that makes his brain itch, as you concentrate on riding Benedict's invasive tongue, biting your lip, moaning vocally.

Yes, this is the best kind of sin.

Thomas mutters words, barely cognisant of what but compelled to urge you on. To take from this mysterious man so willing to give to you both, so far asking nothing in return, still fully clothed himself.

The jagged edge of his denied orgasm licks insistently at his mind, begging for release but paradoxically wallowing in the jangling ache of being so close but denied. Making him unable to think straight. As a doctor, he usually prides himself on keeping a cool head when all around may lose theirs, but tonight…. Tonight feels so peculiar. Out of the ordinary, out of control, out of his mind. And somehow craving carnality like a bestial creature, clawing at the bed, watching you be debauched by the same man who made him equally mindless.

—

Benedict cannot get enough. This wondrous pair. The husband was so responsive to his throat, and now you are bewitched just the same. Writhing your nub shamelessly over the tip of his nose, your juices trickling copiously down his nostrils to coat his throat as he plunges and twists his tongue inside you.

He wants you both so close to ecstasy, so close you can almost taste it, but not let you just yet. The thrill of how utterly base a human can be when dangling over the edge of lust fascinated him before… but now? Now, it’s his primary driver—to make a beast out of man, woman, any human, for them to feel one ounce of what he can. That heightened state when you crave something—so frenzied every base instinct emerges, shows your true nature: growling, greedy, hungry.

So when he feels the telltale ripplings in your cunt, he rapidly withdraws, and as predicted, you cry out, the sound ringing up the walls. He smirks, grazing your inner thigh with his fangs, the urge to sink into your soft skin and drink your other crimson nectar thronging in him.

Not yet, not yet.

The calm voice centres him, even as you keep moving, attempts to frottage yourself vigorously over his face, whimpering, desperate to push over the edge you are circling.

“Shh shh, sweet one,” he soothes, pulling out from under you as you pant wildly.

His hand rests on your lumbar spine to quell you. You slow, whimpering, collapsing forward, burying your face in your husband's lap, his cock leaking on your cheek, your hips swaying in the air. Both of you are shaking, sweaty and overwhelmed.

That’s it; we are getting there now, my darlings.

—

This doesn't feel right.

That voice is whispering again, but Thomas brushes it aside, ravenous, rooted in his body. Yearning to know what is next, a willing marionette in this sinful theatrical.

His mouth goes dry as he watches Benedict slide off the end of the bed and tug at his clothing, buttons popping open until lithe alabaster skin glows in the soft, flickering firelight. Shadows play over lean, muscled torso. He is beautiful: lean, virtually hairless, carved like a marble statue, just as pale and smooth. In fact, his beauty seems too ethereal, like his skin is no longer capable of tanning in sunlight. Still, Thomas longs to touch him, run his tongue over the sharp lines, and kiss every stunning contour.

“Y/n…” Thomas softly shakes your shoulder as you are still whimpering facedown in his lap. When you weakly raise your head, he nods for you to turn over and see the show you have been missing, Benedict now reaching for the buttons on his britches.

Lethargically, you flip over, your head cradled in Thomas’ lap as your eyes fall upon the man, and you inhale sharply. Benedict seemingly stares you both down as he lowers his britches, a smirk on his face entirely immodest. And when the material relents, you understand why.

Thomas’ cock pulses against your neck at the sight. He knows you have seen precisely one cock in your life, his, and this may come as a shock. It's larger and prettier, objectively than his own. You nuzzle him, biting your lip as you twist to look back up at him, eyes wide with concern.

“You can take it, darling,” he reassures, intuiting your apprehension as his knuckles brush calmingly over your cheek.

”As will you,” Benedict adds darkly, addressing Thomas. You watch your husband visibly gulp. Then you do the same, tongue feeling too large in your mouth, as Benedict mounts the bed and crawls predatory over your body, a sinful, crooked smile that is at once gorgeous and scary, that cock bobbing ominously as he draws nearer.

—

You feel butterflies under your ribs, unable to look away from his cock, suddenly nervous about the idea he might fuck you. Thomas is a perfect fit; it never hurts and feels designed to bring you gratification, but that?

It might be too much.

“Don't pretend you don't want me, little one,” Benedict boasts, edged with a darkness that is almost chilling.

“I-I do,” you stutter, unable not to speak the truth, your legs falling wider open reflexively.

“I know, I could smell you from 500 yards away; it drew me in like a clarion call,” he sighs wistfully, and it doesn't sound like he is exaggerating.

Benedict roughly grabs both of your legs and pushes them up and apart, making you gasp. Leaning over, he draws Thomas into a sinful kiss above you, making you mewl slightly at the sight, a burn in your tendons from the position, head now pulled out of Thomas’s lap onto the mattress.

“Hold her ankles,” Benedict orders over Thomas’s lips, gesturing to take over the hold. “Keep her wide and open for me, my prince,” he purrs as he leans away to slide a pillow under your shoulders, your head tilted backwards.

“Why like this?” you ask falteringly, feeling odd staring at Thomas's thigh upside down.

“So your husband can easily use your mouth as I fuck you, little one,” he explains calmly, hands now raking your flesh as he pulls you into position.

Nerves flare brightly in your belly, Thomas’s grip around your ankles harsh as he holds you so wide open. Then, there is intense pressure around your weeping hole. You whimper, your body quivering at Benedict’s attempted entry. He reaches up and touches your temple with two fingers, and the strangest thing happens; a preternatural calm soothes your mind, breath slowing, body pliant, racing now with nothing but want.

“Good girl,” Benedict tutors as he slips inside your body, the invasion blunt, the stretch as thrilling as it is raw.

He keeps pushing, the heat and size so much you can think of nothing else, even as Thomas shuffles closer, his cock nudging your chin, also demanding entry.

For someone innocent merely days ago, you willingly, excitedly, let both men slide into you at either end, your husband stealing your breath as he invades your mouth deeply, Benedict pushing you so wide you can feel him moving below your belly button as he bottoms out.

You feel them lean in towards each other above, Thomas sliding deeper as the sound of them kissing fills the air. You ache to see them, their mouths hot and entwined, but all you can do is close your eyes, swamped in sensation, so much hypnotic heat and scent. Fingers, you don't even know whose, pinch your nipples as both whisper your praises as they start to move in tandem, rocking into and out of your body in the same rhythm. They start slow, allowing you to draw breaths around Thomas' tip before he slides deep.

The drag of Benedict’s cock makes you moan; you can feel every contour and vein, your channel clinging tight to him, a noise of slickened suction as your body struggles to accommodate him.

But they begin to move faster, and you have to breathe through your nose, the insistent press of Thomas’ balls giving you limited air. The struggle makes it heady and soporific, like you can’t get enough and wants to die right here with both men buried deep inside you. You writhe as pleasure courses in your veins. Already pushed so close to coming, pliant and obedient to their use.

—

Benedict looks down upon the filled body of the woman beneath him and groans. Your cunt, such a tight wet vice surrounding him, delicious squelching sounds as he plunders you with increasing speed. Your plush lips wrapped around your husband's cock, your throat exposed and dewy with sweat, his teeth itching to sink into the vein bulging prominently as you fight to take him as well as swallow and breathe. He can’t help but reach down and run a sharp-pointed fingernail over your diaphragm, fascinated by the play of delicate muscle and bone as you ripple under his touch.

“Such a good little thing, and only recently plucked; you are a lucky man,” Benedict opines, his voice gravelly even to his own ears, looking up again to the man in front of him.

“Yes, I am,” Thomas agrees, and Benedict sees the imploring look in his eyes, begging for another kiss.

“Come here, sweet prince,” Benedict murmurs, feeling a spike of victory as Thomas effusively leans in, lips glistening, flushed and plump.

As they kiss anew, Benedict runs a fang over that juicy lip, wanting to sink down and bite, feeling his life force pulsing so strong right there underneath ripe, fleshy fibres. Thomas's hands twine around Benedict’s neck, his tongue tentative, asking for entry, and Benedict swirls and sucks upon it greedily, only breaking when he hears your attempted gurgling of words, your hands wrapped around your husband’s fuzzy thighs, requesting reprieve.

“Slide deeper; make her take it just a touch longer,” he growls into Thomas's ear, teething his lobe. “She will be feisty, but the lack of air will deliver her so close to rapture,” he counsels as Thomas thrusts and holds still. You start to struggle with muffled calls of increasing urgency. “Now slide out,” Benedict advises moments later, and Thomas follows his bidding.

Benedict moans as your whole body judders as you gulp deep breaths. “Perfect. Oh, my prince, you should feel how tight she gets when she’s fighting to breathe; dear god, it’s the best kind of pain.” He stutters, tone deep, wrecked, stupefied by the grip of your convulsing cunt.

What a perfect little thing. I want her as mine.

—

Thomas is also panting, the tightness of your throat squeezing him so close to orgasm for what feels like countless times tonight. He falls back against the headboard instead. To watch. To watch you, his once angelic wife, be taken, wrecked, destroyed by this gorgeous creature.

Your eyes shoot open as you realise he has withdrawn.

“Husband,” you reach a shaky hand up above your head, glad when he takes it, watching your body roll with each punishing thrust Benedict takes, his eyes seemingly fixed upon the hammering pulsing in your neck as you ratchet higher, his tongue slipping out of his mouth in a wanton glistened point.

Just as you are pushing your hips into each thrust, screaming with ecstasy, Benedict pulls out, and Thomas feels your anguish as you suddenly cry out, your whole being heaving with unmet needs, eyes pleading.

“Do you miss my cock already, little one?” he preens, trailing your own musky juices over your belly as he teasingly passes his cock over your heated skin.

You nod viciously and growl, Thomas barely recognising you—a creature reborn of pure lust and submission. Craving this man in a way that makes jealousy and want war uneasily in Thomas’ gut. You have never been this feral for him, your husband, but yet he completely sympathises, feeling the same pangs of want to be taken, wrecked, destroyed endlessly by this thing resembling a man.

“Alas, that is your misfortune, my beautiful thing, for ‘tis your husband's turn now,” the cold glint in his eyes and the harsh lines of his razor-sharp cheekbone glowing as yet again he leaves you a whining, whimpering mess, your body leaking, your voice hoarse, more wild animal than woman. As Thomas lifts his gaze from you writhing to Benedict, one thought haunts his very being with a growing disquiet.

What exactly are you, if not man?

—

You feel inhuman, something clawing at the edges of your mind that feels like madness. A desire to be possessed by this man. Your insides branded as his. So when he withdraws just as you are fluttering once again, it feels like insanity, like sandpaper drags over your brain, your toes and fingers stiff from flexing so hard in utter wretchedness.

This is ecstatic torture.

“Please, my Count,” it’s forlorn, ragged, almost not recognisable as your own voice, your throat still sore from the harsh tip of your husband's cock.

“No, little one, it’s only right you should take your husband's seed, not mine,” he clucks, even as he rakes his hands covetously over your sweaty body, his tone sounding reluctant as if trying to convince himself as much as you.

“Sweet prince, claim your wife,” he calls, clamping a hand around Thomas's neck, compelling him to slide over you.

He does as bidden, and you groan as the familiar stretch of your husband's cock overtakes your senses. Not nearly as punishing or brutal as Benedict, but curved perfectly to glance at that spot inside that makes you clamp down and scream with every pass.

“Darling,” Thomas's familiar voice whispers in your ear, and it’s a balm you need, centring you on him and his lovely face, moving over you in a surging wave.

“Thomas, my love,” you call, wrapping your limbs around him and taking comfort in his embrace, his body, familiar and musky, a flavour you know well dripping on your tongue as you kiss his salty neck, mumbling encouragements, your heels digging into his bottom.

Benedict watches you from behind, and when you look beyond Thomas, you see eyes inky black with desire, fingers ghosting Thomas’s back as if wanting to flay his skin open.

“Are you ready for me, my prince?” Benedict purrs in a way that makes even you shudder, unable to look away from his tongue as it slides into Thomas’ ear.

—

Benedict reaches for the vial before Thomas even moans his weak assent. The smell of clove swirls as he unseals a small vial and pours it down Thomas’ crack.

He can taste how much Thomas wants this, a heavy fug of desire in the air that is his pheromones begging more than his words ever might.

Thomas shudders, and his movements falter as Benedict slides a finger between his cheeks and swirls the oil over his heated skin, over his puckered hole and his balls.

Benedict can feel the weight of your stare over Thomas’s shoulder. Intrigue and desire. You have likely never seen a man fuck another man. Certainly not your husband. Certainly not while he is inside you.

Little one, hold on tight.

—

Thomas is staring into your eyes when Benedict’s cock slides between his cheeks, demanding entry.

He knows he has stilled his movements, and his breathing is ragged and uneven as that long-forgotten breach occurs. He groans loudly; it's the largest he has ever had inside him, and the burn is intense.

“Are you alright, my love?” you call, holding his face delicately and stroking his cheek.

“It’s intense, my love,” he answers through gritted teeth and a shaky exhale as Benedict keeps inching slowly into him.

He’s never had his cock buried in someone while being fucked before; intense exhilaration and so much stimulation. To fuck and be fucked simultaneously.

When Benedict bottoms out, Thomas collapses onto you, his elbows sinking into the mattress under your armpits, his hands clenched in fists over your breasts.

You reach for one and pries open his fingers, silently bringing the hand to your mouth and kissing then sucking his fingers as if his cock, a tease that titillates and distracts as Benedict starts to rock in and out of him. Thomas cannot look away from your mouth, your pleading eyes no doubt telegraphing your devotion and lust.

My darling wife…

—

You feel the moment Benedict moves within your husband, his motion a catalyst to the slide of Thomas's cock within you.

He has found a way to fuck us both.

It is all your mind can think as you watch your husband's face contort a thousand ways, rapture and fear, his whole body becoming a puppet stuck between you and the Count.

“Can you feel that?” Benedict growls, staring you down, eyes black now.

“Y-Yes,” you stumble, seeing something wild in him that genuinely scares you now, your tummy oily even as your clit twinges with pleasure, your husband's cock being driven into you at a pace that you know will make you come within moments.

“Good… don’t you dare look away from me,” Benedict growls when your eyes stray to Thomas.

You obey but watch with growing disquiet as he smiles wickedly wide. Two extended ivory fangs glow in the low flickering firelight. His tongue licks over them provocatively, drawing your attention.

What in God's name?

“God can’t help you now, little one,” Benedict sniggers ominously, and your heart pounds that he can read your mind. “Indeed I can,” he winks, making you gasp.

You are trapped. Trapped under your almost rag doll-like husband, his groans gusting hot into your neck now as he is slumped over you, being fucked so harshly by Benedict, hips snapping as he stares you down, pointed nails scraping down Thomas’s back, his entire mien a sinister seductive leer.

“You are mine, both of you,” Benedict declares. It’s dark, possessive, unearthly.

Confusion rips through your being as, for the first time, you see something other than man—a creature. Utterly terrifying, beguiling, erotic. A shadow moves over his face that is all menace and not of this world. Yet, at the same time, your body is so close to ecstasy, a taut thread holding all your muscles so close to breaking. Horror, fear, lust, and want are a continuous swirling loop in your very being.

Time slows, treacle-like, as you start to convulse despite yourself, taken over the edge by the carnal push and pull of Benedict fucking your husband into your body. Clinging tight to Thomas, you watch in slow-motion as Benedict leans down, those fangs looming large. Then, you feel a searing, sharp pang as they make contact with the meat of your arm, where it is wound around Thomas’s neck. Utter terror grips your heart, even as a flood of chemicals so strong courses into your bloodstream. Strong suction over the wound has you screaming, pure unbridled ecstasy, euphoria coursing in every fibre even as it dawns on you far too late precisely what he is.

VAMPIRE!

—

Benedict has only known immortality for a few months when he tastes his forever. Your blood floods his mouth, and it is the nectar he has been seeking since his turn. The thing that calms and sates him. The sweet delight that means he will never leave your side: he is yours. He will feed from others, for sure, but he is imprinted upon you forever now. He shall always be careful never to drink too much to kill you; he needs this taste more than anything, and just a few drops will be enough to keep him sustained.

“My goddess,” he moans, making your eyes pop open, fear but something else, too, swimming in your depths. It's not revulsion; it's anything but–it's yearning, even from your trance-like bliss.

He stops sucking before you lose too much blood; it’s just enough to make you light-headed and extend your rapture. He can feel you convulsing, Thomas’s limp body a conduit for your intense orgasm. Buried deep in Thomas, closing his eyes and feeling the pulses as you milk your husband’s cock, him just awash and pliant, sandwiched between you.

Benedict feels from inside the moment Thomas breaks, feels his balls contract and his pelvis ripple as he groans loud and long, his seed forcibly painting your insides. It’s futility to resist the urge to feast again. Meeting your hungry, consuming gaze as you crest a secondary wave, he sinks his fangs into the nape of Thomas’s neck, the man calling out lustily. And as he sucks greedily, Benedict falters and moans hard. It's like Thomas’ flavour is the other puzzle piece he needs. The ying to your yang. Together, the taste in his mouth is a symphony. A magnum opus, what feels like the very reason he now exists such as he does.

“My prince, my king,” he garbles, roughly suckling from Thomas's neck, watching the crimson line of blood ooze down his spine and licking it covetously, wantonly, his very purpose.

And it's the catalyst that flings him into the cauldron too, a shuddering snap that consumes his whole body and has him coming so hard he cannot hold himself on his knees anymore, slumping onto Thomas, panting as he empties, a visceral unloading that feels like the very best catharsis.

—

You have never known paradise like this. A continuous loop of thrill; every time you think it is over, you feel first your darling Thomas and then your beautiful nightmare Benedict come, and it pushes you over another precipice. Each is as precious and encompassing as the last.

The weight of them both slumped upon you as the shudder is something you cannot withstand, and you have to call out in protest. Somehow almost preternaturally, they rearrange around you, a tangle of limbs, sweat, cum and blood entwined like a knot of vipers as you all find a comfortable hold, panting hard from the exertion.

“What are you??” you demand, ragged, staring Benedict down around Thomas, who seems to be hovering semi-conscious, his face a picture of complete rapture.

A finger traces down your cheek as he does the same to Thomas, which you track askance.

“Darling precious, you already know. I’m your worst dream masquerading as your perfect fantasy,” he chimes. “And I am yours forever.”

“To which of us do you speak?” you gulp, barely able to form the words; your whole world tilted and forever changed.

“You see, therein lies the beauty,” Benedict smiles, running the edge of his incisors first over Thomas’s neck as he groans drowsily, then yours, making you inhale sharply. “I speak of both of you.”

Thomas twists and places a sleepy, sated kiss on you and then Benedict.

“Enthralling, is not, my love?” Thomas slurs, nuzzling you both. “We have our very own creature of the night.”

“You knew?!” you stutter, disbelief warring with every other emotion alive in your body.

“Mmm,” he hums peacefully. “I knew on some level from the moment he kissed me. And yet here we are. Hearts still beating, bodies utterly sated. This is the best possible outcome. I, for one, cannot wait for every adventure with our delicious Vampire,” Thomas lazily pats Benedict's cheek, who smiles and kisses his temple.

You are rendered speechless.

“Come on, y/n, my goddess,” Benedict goads, his tone dusky and irresistible as his lips ghost your husband’s, his long pale fingers smearing a droplet of blood into your breast, spidering over your flesh in a way that already has your cunt swelling again. “I am yours. And I can give you such pleasures every night,” he promises.

Well, that is perhaps the most enthralling prospect of all.

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