#i find it amusing that there's a pattern
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flowers-inverted · 5 months ago
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Ya know I don't really pay much mind to ships for haikyu but I feel like there's definitely a pattern for the popular ones... The "setter and their spiker" relationship seems to really resonate as queer with this community
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artem1sc0re · 2 months ago
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Idk who’d want this or would want to see this in their day
But Aiden Pearce with banana bread
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Also do you guys like edits if so I’ll just serve this on the side
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wof-pride · 1 year ago
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For a request, could I get aroace nonbinary Agave? I know I've been requesting a lot so feel free to do my request last :)
Of course you can!
also hmm, abalone, addax, and now agave. I have a feeling that there's a plan going on here.
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oldestking · 1 year ago
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     /  My god- my love for gil is always present but as i’m sitting once again to hopefully finish watching C.CC (last time I got distracted) it just refreshes me once again just how interesting and unpredictable g.ilgamesh is, yet how at the same time, all that he says still ends up making sense to his character! He really is a character that is difficult to fully box in one slot once you look closer down the rabbit hole that is himself and that is always a delight to see
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#/lit c.cc is a reminder to my portrayal that g.il doesnt really have a decisive 'pattern' of action#/like;; when you think about it closely; he really is unpredictable#ITS LIKE;; i keep going from 'oh he would absolutely k_ll this person for saying that to him' and then i get proved wrong#and it turns out he finds it amusing instead and decides to forgive x person for their 'insolence'#or him straight up admitting that he is not at his prime;; u would think that someone as prideful as g.il would never admit something like#weakness; but it happens to be the contrary; he is fully aware of his limitations and even makes fun of it#(albeit in a rather derogative manner with h.akuno)#but he still admits it directly#or him complaining about resting in a c.lassroom mockup and calling it cheap and etc#but rejoicing at the same time over the experience and calling it as one of the pleasures of traveling#its just;;a bunch of things that surprise you at each turn#when u think u have g.il figured out; he jumps with something unpredictable that at the  same time makes a lot of sense to his character#that's something i've always found interesting but its by retaking c.cc once again that it reminds me of that again#he is as how h.akuno said; majestic#majestic in a way that is not just related to gold or wealth but#majestic in the sense that he has an absolute sense of value that nothing can knock down#also for context; the pic is the response of deciding to run away bc the enemies they were gonna face were logically stronger than them
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lavenderyulu · 2 years ago
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hi, good morning, woke up to steven getting a new alt outfit in pokemas, didnt know that he was getting one at first and just though my mutuals were making a detective steven au until i stumbled across a post from the pokemon masters official account announcement............... what a nice day.
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karmaphone · 9 months ago
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there's somethin tickling my brain funky about how they keep attributing different character actions + lines to others
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woozivrse · 2 months ago
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“cheol?” you huffed, amused and smiling down at your fiancé. “what’re you doing babe?”
he’d been doing this every single night since he proposed to you without fail. right before you two went to bed during your nightly cuddles. he’d lay on top of you— making sure his weight wasn't fully on you— and start pecking you with kisses everywhere he could reach.
well, not everywhere. he placed his kisses in the same places every night, and you couldn't figure out the pattern at all.
“kissing you,” he answered. “was it not obvious enough?”
you laughed, rubbing one hand up and down his back. “okay, let me rephrase. why are you kissing me in such random spots?”
“your moles,” he placed another kiss, right on the small mole on your collarbone. “if i kiss them enough they’ll appear in our next life, and i'll be able to find you again,” –he kissed the one under your lips, right in the middle of your chin– “and again.”
you scrunch your nose up, smiling at how absolutely cheesy your fiancé was being. you hadn't even realized he was kissing your moles, and usually you had an unconscious feel of where every single one you knew of was. you giggled ruffling up his hair with both hands and kissing his forehead. “well then, i'll just have to start doing the same to you once you're done.”
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syluss-littlecrow · 3 months ago
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better than the devil
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<sylus x fem!reader>
where you find out if Sylus really has horns, and why he avoids letting you touch them
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genre/warnings: smut, pwp, unprotected sex, size kink (i mean bro is PACKING), breeding kink, sylus’s horns are ✨sensitive✨, dirty talk, sexual tension, missionary, a fuck ton of horn play, horny horns, cumming untouched, orgams galore!, so much cum♡
w/c: 2.9K
a/n: gotta thank the loml @bro-atz for helping me with this a little ehehehe >:) I hope this destroyed yall as much as this destroyed me to write it!!🥹
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They say he takes the form of some dragon-like creature—with large black horns and wings. 
The first time you witnessed it with your own two eyes was when he choked out a serpent wanderer ten times his size before it got to you. You were semi-conscious at that point of time, the fatigue threatening to take over, but you had caught a glimpse of his silhouette—two thick appendages that curled proudly past his dirty silver hair, and large wings that hung off his back—before you blacked out. 
“Staring at me isn’t going to get any of your curiosities satisfied”, Sylus snaps you out of your thoughts. Your gaze flickers to his face, but Sylus has his eyes on his phone. 
Then his gaze shifts to you. 
“What are you thinking about, sweetie?”
Of course, you couldn’t just tell him outright that you wanted to see him magically grow his horns out of his head. You doubt even Luke and Kieran have seen it themselves. 
“Your horns.”
Sylus lowers his phone onto his lap, then he cocks an eyebrow, which turns to a furrow in seconds. 
“What gave you the idea that I grew horns?” He asks, his tone laced with mock and caution. His attention is fully on you now. 
Yeah, maybe that was not a good question to ask. Then again, being around someone as direct as Sylus had made you pick up his mannerisms quite a fair bit. 
“Nothing really”, you brush off, attempting to derail the conversation before something goes wrong. “I’m just curious.”
“Talk”, Sylus demands, albeit in a soft tone. “I’m listening.” 
His crimson eyes burn a hole into your head, and you now only realise the way he has you cornered on his couch, his large frame looming over yours. 
You sigh, realising he’s not about to let it go anytime soon. 
“A few weeks ago, during one of the battles we had, where I almost died-“
“Get to the point, sweetie”, Sylus cuts, seeing through your guise. 
You pout. “Right. Before I blacked out, I saw you appear right in front of me, with horns.”
Sylus raises his eyebrows, seemingly in amusement. “You sure you weren’t hallucinating?”
He earns a smack on his chest. You’re ready to let him disprove you further or whatever, but your body jolts when you feel Sylus snake his arms around your waist before he carries you effortlessly off the corner of the couch and onto his lap. 
You watch his eyes grow soft when he locks his gaze with yours. His expression is unreadable.
Your eyes widen in amazement when the thick pair of horns curl past his locks, the black a stark contrast with his white hair. He looks like he’s wearing bows in a funny, demonic type of way. Not that he has to know that. 
You continue to stare at his horns, visually taking in the rough yet smooth texture and patterns that run downwards as the horns grow thicker towards the base. 
“What are you really?” You wonder aloud, your fingers reaching out to feel the interesting texture of his horns, only for him to pull away quickly.
“It’s not the right time for you to know”, he replies curtly. You notice the glint of concern in his eyes, shrouded under the indifferent expression he wears. 
So you decide to leave it for now, at least. 
Nonetheless, it doesn’t stop you from annoying the ever-loving shit out of Sylus about his horns once you found out about it.
He would stare at you with his eyebrows furrowed, muttering that he should have never told you about his horns, only for you to bat your eyelashes at him, much to his annoyance. 
“At least let me touch them if you’re not gonna tell me more about them”, you would whine. With a frown, he would push your forehead with a finger, giving you his standard answer.
"No."
“Then could you at least tell me why you won’t let me touch your horns?”
He would rest his thumb and index finger on his chin, feigning a thinking stance before his expression drops deadpan and then the curt answer leaves his lips.
“No.”
You’re putting this right next to when you were fighting for your life to get that fucking brooch months ago. 
While the thought continues to eat into your curiosity, you mostly let Sylus off the hook after a while. For some reason, you’ve been noticing that Sylus has been walking around his mansion with his horns freely out. Maybe because he’s shown you his full horns once that’s why?
Or he’s just straight-up taunting you. 
You feign nonchalance, only stealing glances at the thick appendage that stood out against his pale locks from time to time, but never really bringing it up to him, for now at least.
You hear the raindrops patter against the large windows of Sylus's room one afternoon. At least the heavy clouds are hiding the sun on top of the dark curtains drawn, and it makes Sylus's rest a little more comfortable. 
He's sound asleep beside you on his bed, but you're seated up on your phone, the sound of the rain also slowly luring you to grow sleepy. You stretch a little, careful not to wake the male beside you. Sylus grunts softly, and you feel his hair tickle your thighs.
Through your peripherals, something catches your attention. The black on white is undoubtedly hard to miss.
Now that Sylus seems dead asleep, you're considering taking a chance to take a closer look at his horns, and maybe even touch them. 
Carefully, you shift your weight closer to Sylus, monitoring his expressions and movements. When the coast is clear, you lean closer, staring at his horns with much amazement. It's a lot different now that you're this up close to admire them. 
His horns aren't simply a simple shade of jet black–at different angles, you notice how the scales of his horns shimmer like an oil spill under the soft light. Close up, the base of his horns are thick, and as it extends, it curls, almost fully wrapping around his head. 
“So pretty”, you mutter to yourself. Your fingers are reached out as if by instinct, barely inches away from touching his pretty crown. 
You pause, weighing the risks of attempting to touch his horns. How fucked would you be if you actually did? 
Your eyes scan Sylus’s calm sleeping face. He doesn't seem to have even noticed his horns have grown out. 
“It’s just a little touch, he won't feel it anyways”, you convince yourself softly, your resolve firming as your curiosity begins to bubble over your rationale.
You let your fingers brush his horn, feeling the cold and scaly texture beneath your fingertips. Your eyes are sparkling in amazement even more, now that your curiosity has been satisfied. You press your fingertips onto the appendage, enjoying how nice and cool it feels to the touch.
Just then, you hear Sylus groan slightly. Your hand immediately retracts before you fully freeze, watching the way he presses his head against your leg, his eyebrows slightly scrunched before it returns back to relaxed. 
Close call. 
You obviously don’t learn your lesson, because your fingers are on his horns almost immediately once more. You grow more curious about the feeling of running your palm across his horns this round. 
So you do.
Your hand starts from the thick base, and you stroke it, following the horn's curl, enjoying the way the texture of the scales run smooth under your palm.
And then Sylus makes a sound beneath you. You squint in curiosity, wondering if you heard it right.
So you run your hand from his tip to the base this time. 
And this time, Sylus lets out another moan. You definitely did not hear wrong. 
Your cheeks are slowly flushing when you realise what you're doing to him. But for some reason, it makes you want to do it more.
So this is why he doesn't want you touching his horns? 
With a cheeky smile, you run your fingers along his horns in various ways and places, eliciting more pretty and erotic reactions from Sylus. 
You giggle to yourself, trying to ignore how he's making you aroused with all the noises he's making with every stroke you give his horns. 
You want to go for the next round, wondering how far you can take this.
Obviously not very far, because the next time you do, Sylus’s hand catches your wrist before you're about to touch his horns again.
He stares at you with half-lidded eyes, pink dusted on his cheeks and his breathing shallow.
“Are you having fun, kitten?” He asks with a frown.
Fuck.
You feign a smile, trying to wave your hand from his grip, of course, your attempts futile. 
Sylus’s other arm curls around your thighs, locking you from leaving the bed while Sylus lets his sleep leave his body from the rude interruption. 
“Denying me of satisfying my curiosity only makes it worse”, you shrug. Well, if only Sylus had just let you have a little touch…
The corner of Sylus’s lips pull up to a half smirk. 
“Right”, Sylus replies, a hint of annoyance and something else laced in his tone before he shifts above you in one swift motion, trapping you underneath him on his bed. 
“Then, I'm sure you don't have to be reminded that actions have consequences?”
You swallow hard. 
His hand that grabbed yours is placed on his chest, and he forces you to trail down his body, feeling his thick chest, then his abs under your touch, all the way down until he stops you right on his thick erection.
“You should take responsibility, don't you think?” Sylus asks with a raised eyebrow. 
You know it's pointless even attempt to escape when he’s devouring your lips like he hasn't eaten in days. It's so intoxicating. You would never admit your greed, but Sylus knows you well enough to feed you so good. You want to pull him so impossibly close.
In between breathless kisses, your warm hands trail from his biceps to his shoulders, to his neck, and right to his hair.
You test waters–letting your fingers rake through his hair, grazing the base of his horns. You get his green light when he doesn't swat you off, on the contrary, it makes Sylus grow more desperate in the kiss.
You confidently stroke his horn, from base to tip once more, and the moans that leave Sylus’s lips sound like fucking heaven. 
His crimson eyes finally meet yours, and he almost looks like he's in pain. 
“If you keep doing that–ngh–” Sylus trails off with another strained moan when the sensation of you stroking his horn buzzes right to his cock that he has shut his eyes to hold back. 
“This?” you tease, sliding your palm down to his base once more, rubbing the scaly appendage, watching him failing at trying to keep his composure. 
“Fuck”, he hisses, diving into your lips once more, eating you up. 
He pulls away briefly, pressing his lips just below your ear.
“You’re gonna be taking responsibility, kitten.”
He presses himself close onto you, so close that you feel his cock just pulsing against your pelvis, only separated by his black sweats. Sylus takes your chin in his fingers and steals your breath away once more, uncontrollably grunting with every stroke your hands play with his horns. You feel his cock twitch, then pulse before the feeling of warmth spreads across your skin, accompanied by a long, drawn out moan in your mouth.
It makes you dizzy with bliss, realising what you've done to him. 
Sylus pulls away once more, catching his breath, his eyes reflecting something more feral when you met his. 
But all you do is flash a cheeky smile at him, letting your fingers caress his cheek. 
His fingers tug at the waistband of your shorts and he yanks them off, almost growing feral for the second time when his eyes meet the sight of the way your pussy is glistening so much that a wet and thin string of arousal sticks itself in between your pussy and your soaked panties. 
Well, Sylus is holding the short end of the stick anyway, because when he tugs his sweats down, your heartbeat accelerates as your eyes land on his cock–thick, red and completely covered in white and thick cum, some staining his underwear, twitching slightly with dribbles of cum seeping past his cockhead when the fabric brushes past his balls. 
He looks so fucking delicious when he's messy like that. Shit.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself, staring at me like that”, he teases. He doesn't even look embarrassed.
“Maybe I should play with your horns more often”, you reply with a smile. Sylus narrows his eyes at you, his expression mixed with annoyance and affection. His fingers press against your soaking clit, enjoying the way the smile on your face gets wiped, replaced with a contorted expression of pleasure when he rubs it in slow circles. 
“I’m strongly against that idea, sweetie”, Sylus responds, leaning in to take in the expression of your mind slowly growing dumb and blank just from his slender fingers rubbing you out. “It’ll give you a little too much leverage over me.”
Through the hazy and building pleasure, you still manage to reply, “that's the whole point.”
Sylus only smiles at your reply, his fingers leaving your clit. You're about to protest, that is, until he grabs you by your hips, dragging you closer to him, then pressing your knees to your chest, before his wet cock slowly enters you from below. He watches your face contort in pleasure–your eyes rolling back and your eyebrows furrowed–while soaking in the fucking delicious feeling of your cunt warm and wrapped around his cock. 
“S-so good”, you whimper, his fullness knocking out any ounce of breath and sense out of you at a dangerous pace the his cock inches even deeper into you.
“Such a nice and warm pussy hole”, Sylus grits, pushing himself even deeper, his control slipping when he's buried himself all the way in. “Fuck, you're so good for me, kitten.”
You're clawing his pillows when Sylus starts fucking you, and you're looking at Sylus with such a glazed out expression–and you know it drives him fucking crazy. His palm rests on the bulge that his cock is pushing every time he enters you, and it makes your thighs shake. Your moans grow in pitch and tone on top of the sounds of lewd wet skin slapping. 
He lets you wrap your legs around his waist in return for letting him scatter love bites across your neck.
So you decide that it’s the perfect time to aim for his sensitive spots once more.
Your fingers tug against his scalp, then alternating to stroking his horns once more, throwing Sylus into another round of pleasured daze. 
You feel his cock fill you up even more, and it makes you greedy to how far you can push it.
“I really should make you regret this”, Sylus mutters, failing to suppress another groan when your fingers scratch against the base. 
His thrusts become more like ruts, his cockhead hitting your g-spot over and over as payback. Sylus sprouts a satisfied smirk as he watches you completely come undone on his cock. You throw your head back while stars flicker in and out of your vision. The pleasure is growing so fucking good that you're choking on your moans too. 
“Right there! Fuck, that feels so fucking good, Sylus”, you sob through wet lashes and heavy pants. 
Sylus is mesmerised by your pretty expressions and the pretty sounds you always make for him when he's breaking you apart. 
Maybe you finding out about his sensitive horns is his punishment for indulging in these sick pleasures. Nonetheless, he still wouldn't have any other way.
Your hands find his horns once more, and he falters for a split second. But he doesn't shake you off since he's much too focused on trying to force an orgasm out of you.
Your pussy squeezes him before it starts uncontrollably fluttering against his cock. Ah, his goal is slowly being fulfilled.
As your orgasm dangles above you, you react with periodical squeezes on his cock and his horns, which definitely draws a much larger reaction from Sylus. 
“So close”, you whine, your orgasm slowly filling the crevices of your brain, plunging you deep into pleasure. Your cunt clenches on his cock, and you unintentionally yank his horns.
Sylus fucking growls, pressing himself so fucking deep into you, his cum fucking spurting into you–so much that some is leaking out from your plugged pussy hole and onto the bed. 
He pulls his cock out momentarily, letting his cum ooze from his cockhead, his eyes darting to the loads seeping out of your hole, before he slides his cock into you once more. You gasp at the fullness, another squeeze to his horns, which only stimulates Sylus once more, and his cock fills you up with another warm and sticky load. 
He’s panting, but he musters his energy to meet your eyes. 
“Sweetie”, he calls out to you amidst his dick attempting to take over his brain. “If you don't get your hands off, your pussy won't be able to hold anymore, I guarantee.”
He's met with a fucked-out and sly grin from his partner. 
“And I thought you enjoyed challenges.”
Sylus scoffs at your comment, realising that he really has to teach his kitten a lesson to not touch things that aren't hers.
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anantaru · 4 months ago
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genshin man (your choice ofc) overstimulating reader ☺️🫵🏻☺️🫵🏻
・✶ 。 including — alhaitham, kinich ☁︎ synopsis — he likes overstimulating his darling, he loves it, even <3
warnings — overstimulation, sweet talks with alhaitham <3 teasing genshin man, kinich is a little mean, fem! reader
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— alhaitham
"if you could only see yourself the way i see you," alhaitham murmurs as his lips brush against your ear ever so tenderly— and his voice was like a soothing balm hovering on top of you, grounding you in the present moment even as your senses spiraled into near insanity.
with purpose, his hands move and explore your writhing skin, discovering every sensitive spot on your body as his hips thrust with vigor, the messy, wet squelches of your cunt making you arch your back as the bubble inside your belly threatens to pop.
with alhaitham, there was no rush in his actions, only a deep, profound care to give you the most intense pleasure until your body borders on overstimulation and love. his fingertips trace delicate patterns over your skin as his eyes, filled with an intense yet tender focus, watch how your legs shake and quiver around his narrow waist.
you continue to arch into his touch and whimper when you catch his lips curve into a small smile each time your pussy squeezes him, his gaze never leaving your face. he wanted, no, needed to see every expression you made, every moment of pleasure he could draw from you until you lose control of yourself, the feeling of his erection pressing into you over and over being unlike anything profanely possible.
"just let go for me, yeah?" he whispers, his voice like a husky command that sent a cold shiver down the entirety of your spine, "i'm with you, here with you," as he continues to grind his cock into you, the lazy, yet skilled drags of his shaft rushing around your spongey walls as you mewl out his name.
there was nothing you could do other than cling to his shoulders, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as the sensations were beginning to turn overwhelming, each touch, each kiss, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you and feeling like a mountain was tied against your frame, looming and threatening to crush you.
his hands moved lower to find your swollen clit to pinch and press into the little pearl before rubbing you fiercely as it that had you crying out in deep pleasure until you just couldn't take it anymore.
your body felt so tense, the pleasure building to its pinnacle as you messily released all over his cock, intense waves of pleasure bursting through you as you simply shattered, your body convulsing in his strong arms as alhaitham held you through it all, his merciless touch on your clit never faltering as he rubbed you through your blissful orgasm.
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— kinich
kinich's eyes sparkled with mischief as he traced a finger down your arm, his touch light and teasing while his grin was somewhat playful, quite menacing as well if being honest, yet promising a night of unrestrained pleasure until he could see you fall apart for him.
"you look so tempting to me, i can't wait to feel you over and over and over," the man purred, his voice resembling a seductive whisper as you leaned into his warmth, his breath hot against your neck as he kissed a trail down to your collarbone before biting into your flesh.
it's obvious he knows exactly how to drive you wild, how to make you beg and cry.
in a matter of seconds, you tremble underneath him, toes curled and your hips grinding up so your clit could rub into his pelvis as kinich chuckled at your eagerness, finding it rather amusing as it fueled the ego inside of him, "patience, ever heard of it, hmm?" he teases as his lips brush against your ear, "don't you realize we have all night?"
his fingers induce electric bolts into you as they danced over your skin with ease, never lingering in one spot for too long as he found it to be the most pleasurable if he was able to tease you until you would literally break— because you see, each touch was a tantalizing promise of the pleasure to come, leaving you breathless and yearning for more and kinich utterly adored that.
"how odd, you're so sensitive there," he remarks with a giggle as he messily thrusts into your cunt before grinding his hips down whenever he was fully inside, "i wonder why," as his voice turned in a husky whisper, his eyes meeting yours in a trice, a spark of amusement and desire in their depths and taking you by surprise.
"ugh, i love seeing you like this, so vulnerable,"
kinich's grin was wicked, insane, his eyes never leaving yours as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. "more, come on," he whispers, "i want to see you fall apart for me, you think you can do that?"
and with a final, teasing thrust— so strong, in fact, that it made your boobs jiggle up and down, he sent you over the edge, your voice dying in your throat before you felt something pop in your stomach and fuck, it was so effortlessly quick like he didn't even need to try to make you feel this way.
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©2024 anantaru  do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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little-miss-dilf-lover · 4 months ago
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LOGAN HOWLETT 18+ thoughts bc I can’t get a grip
mdni, fem!reader. 685 words
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Thinking about Logan playing with you from behind:
His back to the headboard, yours to his chest – warm skin pressed to his as you lay into him. It’s lazy, it’s comfortable. Your thighs parted loosely, bent knees resting against his straightened legs either side of you. 
It’s all so casual, one of his hands teasing at the fabric of your underwear, fingers extended down as he toys with you. Pad of his middle one circling your clit, working up that growing patch of wet. His other hand wrapped around your middle, palm large and warm over your stomach – holding you to him, keeping you firm to his chest. 
Your head hangs back on his collarbone, crown of your head resting slackly against his shoulder. You feel as though you’ve been run through the wringer, the minimal, inconsistent touch of where you wanted him causing you all sorts of anguish. 
He was teasing you, every touch calculated despite its relaxed environment. Just absentmindedly playing with you through the fabric, working you up to hear those soft, breathy whines of yours he loves ever so much.
And while you thought your patience was being tested, that was not solely the case. His toying coming from a place of reluctance – like he was seeing how long he can go without sinking a couple fingers in you. It was hard, and he was growing antsy. Just like you.
So after what feels like forever of faint, featherlight pussy play, he slips his hand down the front of your underwear, his fist protruding in the thin fabric. The bow sitting on his thick wrist, the lewd view of something so dainty and pretty against something so rugged and manly was overwhelming. The feeling making you tighten on nothing. The feeling releasing an involuntary soft moan. 
“Barely touched you yet, sugar,” he whispers behind you, voice gruff and low. 
The grip he has around your stomach raises, his touch light as he finds himself cupping under your tits – arm wrapped securely, fingers clasping at the one on the opposite side. Breasts resting on his meaty forearm, holding them carefully.
The hand in your underwear is barely moving, his fingers resuming their prior pattern of fiddly touching. Though, this time it’s beneath the fabric, not over. He dips his two middle fingers between your lips, tips of each immediately being coated with the eager anticipation betwixt your thighs. The tapered width of his fingers parting your folds ever so obscenely.
He’s hesitant, not because he doesn’t know what he’s doing, rather, the opposite. He’s hesitant because he knows what he’s doing. Waiting and waiting – being a tease with his hand grazing heavy against your wet cunt, the palm of his hand feeling the clamp-like, jitter motion of you beneath. 
He reaches his middle finger downwards, the tip delving inside of you —only up to the first knuckle— the feel giving you a brief, momentary wave of relief. 
It’s not enough, so you find yourself extending a hand down to his, your fingers struggling to envelop the meat of his wrist as you push him further into your underwear. Silently, desperately asking for more.
All he can do is chuckle faintly, the deep sound amused. He’s mean, but he’s not evil. So he gives you what you want – the full length of his middle finger, those few inches sinking inside with the greatest of ease. His ring finger easing in shortly after.
“Better?” he asks, the question almost rhetorical. He knew it was better.
Your grip around his occupied hand loosens, and instead moves to hold onto the arm around your upper torso – fingers pawing at the muscles. You go limp, melting into him from behind, your soft, dulcet noises echoing everything he does. Each of you looking down between your thighs, watching his fingers disappear inside you, his head resting against yours as you both stare at the near pornographic view. 
And as he begins to pump slowly inside —hooking his fingers up into all the right spots— you twist into him, pressing kisses into his bulging, veiny bicep. Wordlessly thanking him.
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just watched dp3 again, christ
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omgeto · 1 year ago
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☆ THRILL (h)ER! — SATOSUGU X READER
summary: when watching a scary movie with your two best friends, you cant help but hold onto them tight every time you get jumpscared. but as the night goes on and your fingers roam... wait, what movie were you watching again?
wc: 3.3k (its alll smut guys so give me a medal)
cw: double penetration, praising, slight degradation, gojo and geto bickering, fingering, dirty talk (?) and some fun loving you're their pretty little princess. afab!reader, MDNI
an: guys look I finally posted a fic for kinktober, yay me, I hope you like it since Id say the smut on this one hits different sooo give it a chance. also only big brains will understand the fic title.
KINKTOBER M.LIST.
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your best friends, gojo and geto always have a way of making you feel right at home, especially when you find yourself in your favourite spot on the couch – sandwiched between them. geto's embrace is a gentle yet possessive one, his arms wrapped around you in a tender hold that radiates warmth, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your lower back.
to your side, gojo's long limbs seamlessly entwine with yours. your legs stretch over to meet him, creating an intimate tangle of limbs. his fingers trail leisurely up and down your thighs, their teasing caresses sending delightful shivers through your body. it's a familiar and electric sensation that's become an unspoken language among the three of you—one that hasn’t fully been enacted upon… yet.
"i don't know why you insist we watch this movie every year," geto complains, his gaze locked onto his b est friend, a playful frustration in his tone. "you're so predictable."
"oh, don't be a bore," gojo retorts, matching geto's glare before shifting his attention down to you. his voice is laced with mischief as he speaks to you. "you find it fun, don't you?" 
“what? do i like crappy slashers from the 80s with big titted damsels running from a shitly costumed killer?” you deadpan, your sarcasm evident. you could feel the vibration from geto as he lowly chuckles. gojo’s face forms a pout that prompts you to quickly add, “but i love them.”
gojo’s pout transforms into a triumphant grin as your admission earns you a playful nudge from him. “that’s my girl,” he exclaims, giving your thigh an excited rub as he turns on the movie.
geto, still chuckling softly, leans in closer. “well, i suppose if toru enjoys it, we can endure it one more time.” his words carry a hint of tenderness, his arm around you tightening ever so slightly, puling you closer into his embrace.                                                                            
you watch the movie in a comfortable silence, the only noise coming from the tv and gojo's oddly placed screams that you've come to expect every year. his over-the-top reactions to jump scares and gruesome scenes never fail to amuse you, and it's a source of endless entertainment for both you and geto.
geto, on the other hand, watches the movie with a more stoic expression, occasionally shaking his head at the implausible plot twists and unrealistic gore. His hand continues to rest on your thigh, his fingers now tracing soothing patterns as if to counterbalance the tension on the screen.
as the movie progresses, you notice how both gojo and geto steal glances at you when they think you're not looking, as their innocent touches progress into heavy petting. but there's a moment where you all pause, their movements stop, and you all look at each other as the loud sounds of exaggerated moans blare from the screen.
“i always forget this scene is in there,” gojo lies, with a snicker, an appreciative smile forming on his face as he watches the scene.gojo's arm remains draped around your shoulders, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your arm, while geto's touch has grown increasingly intimate, his hand resting on your hip, his thumb making slow, deliberate circles.
“oh don’t bullshit satoru,” geto accuses, taking his hand off of you for a second to send a jab into gojo’s side, “i know you’re getting off on watching this ditzy blonde getting laid.”
“not true,” gojo retorts childishly, “i think there’s better sights to get off on, isn’t that right?” he finishes casting his eyes, not so subtly, over to you.
“well i can’t lie and say the sights aren’t… appealing,” geto grins his hands coming back on you, toying with the hem of your shirt.
“you two are such guys,” you laugh, trying to remain nonchalant even though on the inside the pace of your heart was quickening, and every touch of their fingers sends jolts straight to your core. “you’re focusing on the wrong things here.”
“and what should we be focusing on here?” geto murmurs at you, you couldn’t see his face but you knew a smirk was plastered across it. his challenge hangs in the air as you pause, hesitating as you scan the room, your eyes meeting gojo’s trying to gauge if they are thinking what you are. geto can sense your hesitation as he feels your breathing still as you lean against him, so he pulls his finger under your chin turning your head to face him. “let us focus on you, come here.”
you lean in, his lips enclosing on yours in a deep kiss, you turn your body almost straddling him so you could get better access. his tongue enters your mouth, as his hands work down your body, and as the kiss intensifies, you’re aware of gojo’s gaze on you. you extend an inviting hand toward him, flashing him a smile as you pull away from geto and set your lips on your other friend.
gojo groans as your lips work with his, and his hands go straight into his pants, fisting his dick that has been hard all night just at the sight of you. geto cascades kisses down your neck as he starts to pull your shirt up off of you, you gasp at the feeling of both of their hands and lips all over you.
“h-how long have you two been planning this one then, huh?” you grin, a laugh escaping through your moans, as you let geto get rid of your shirt, assisting gojo with taking off your pants. 
“how long have we known you?” geto responds rhetorically, and gojo nod in agreement, as they both take off their jogging bottoms, leaving you all sitting on the couch in your underwear. there is no more hesitation, or uncertainty between you three—you all know exactly what you want.
“so who gets to have me first?” you joke, your eyes darting between the two of them, their lustful eyes are unmistakable as they stare at your body, their dicks straining against their boxers ready to be suffocated by your tight pussy.
“i get to!” gojo sputters out quickly, but he’s not as swift as geto who’s already pulled you back onto him, his fingers pushing into you without any warning. your mouth parts, as you let out a whine, as his long digits give your pussy fast, relentless strokes, he adds another finger, smirking as your body buckles against his. “hey no fair!” gojo pouts, side eyeing geto, but he can’t help biting his lip as he hears your cunt squelch everytime his best friend shoves his fingers into it.
“don’t worry, ‘toru,” geto reassures, his fingers curling up into you before he pulls it out swiftly, spreading your pussy apart and giving gojo a knowing look, “there’s room for the both of us.”
gojo eagerly drives his fingers into you from behind, his body pressing against yours as he charges your fingers into you. your moans increase as you feel a flurry of digits explore your pussy, gojo’s hand grips on his shoulder and geto hand holds your waist as they both tug your body back and forth in an attempt to get you closer to them.
“s-shit” you cry out, as you clench around their fingers, trying to keep them inside of you. you grind down against both of their fingers, your whimpers encouraging them to twist and push their fingers deeper into you.
“you see how much of a mess she gets for us?” geto asks gojo with a low chuckle, and gojo nods, smiling as the wetness of your pussy allows for his fingers to slide into you with ease, “press down on her clit. hard.”
“don’t tell me what to do,” gojo mutters, but he does it anyway. his thumb going straight to your clit, pushing down on it, smirking as you groan your back arching right into him. 
“see i told you,” geto chimes, laughing as gojo glares at him. geto’s focus shifts to you, as he pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to your mouth, he holds your chin, placing his thumb on your bottom lip as he raises his eyebrows at you for permission. you nod lazily, opening your mouth, accepting two of his fingers —which are drenched in your juices. “‘toru, you gonna finish her off for me.”
gojo smirks, his fingers working in overdrive, as he adds another digit inside of you and you could feel yourself about to release. geto can tell you're close from the way you bite down on his fingers. “you close? you gonna cum on satoru’s fingers as you taste yourself?”
you couldn’t even respond, as your cum sprays all over gojo’s fingers and geto’s stomach. the boys both smirk at each other, as they hear your high pitched moans and see heaps of your cum spilling out of your pussy running down your thighs. gojo is in awe, his fingers still remain in you and he pushes them up lazily, trying to keep you plugged with your cum. you relax onto his fingers, letting him do as he pleases, as you try and catch your breath your body slumping onto geto’s.
“you did so well,” geto praises in his air, lifting up your head off your chest, pecking your lips softly. “you took both of our fingers letting us stretch your tight pussy, it felt good didn’t it?” 
“y-yeah it felt so good sugu,” you sigh, turning your head to face gojo, as you pull him closer into you, “you both felt so good.”
“you wanna let us stuff you further?” gojo questions eagerly, his hard dick resting on your ass, as rocks against you.
“satoru,” geto reprimands, shaking his head at his friends over excitement. but gojo shoots him a look shrugging as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, practically inhaling you.
“but suguru, she wants us both to stuff her,” he argues, as fingers already go back to your sobbing cunt. “you want that dont you?” he whispers, directly in your ear, slowly coaxing your pussy with soft strokes as he murmurs in your ear. “you want me and sugu to shove our dicks right up your pussy, together.”
“i don’t know if i can…” you hesitate, your voice faltering, but you pull your lip between your teeth, closing your eyes as you think about taking both of them.
“c’mon pretty girl,” geto persuades you, forcing you to open your eyes and look at the teasing smirk on your face, “don’t think we don’t know how slutty you can be. you know your greedy little cunt take both of us with ease, and you want it to, don't you?” you nod your head slowly in agreement, but geto shakes his, “no, we need to hear you say it. use your words. tell us what you want.”
“i want your dicks to stuff my pussy,” you admit, feeling your confidence grow as the smirk on geto’s face widens and you can hear gojo lowly growl in your ear. “i need it.”
“well we have to give our girl what she wants, right sugu?” gojo taunts, pulling you off of gojo and onto his lap, his dick slaps against your pussy. “suguru got to see your pretty face, before, so this time you’re all mine, okay?” gojo says to you, and you could hear geto kiss his teeth, but he obliges letting gojo have his way this time. 
“you ready for me?” gojo asks, waiting for your approval as he lifts you up slightly over his dick, he even looks over to geto he leans back against the couch, with his dick in his hand. you don’t even answer gojo, sliding down onto gojo as you moan together.
geto fists his dick at the sight, “go on satoru, fuck her,” he orders, his strokes increasing as he watches as gojo begin to thrust into you. your hands press down on gojo’s shoulder’s as you start to bounce on him, you lean forward whining straight in his ear, causing him fuck you harder.
gojo plays with your bra strap, pulling it and letting it release against your shoulder, “i don’t know why you’ve still got this on,” he complains, as brings his hands to the clasp of your bra, undoing it. your tits bounce as he pulls off your bra, and both boys smile at the sight. gojo’s fingers pull against both of your nipples, twisting and pulling at them causing you to cry at every tug. “so sensitive,” he mutters to himself, touching your tits inquisitively as he continues to toy with them, loving how with every touch your cries grow louder.
“it’s crazy how we stretched you so well earlier, but your pussy is still tight as fuck,” gojo comments, his words punctuated with every thrust. “i had all my fingers inside of you already, but your cock hungry cunt just can’t seem to get enough.”
“is he fucking you good?” geto calls, feeling himself about to cum, as he rubs against his dick hard. you look over to him and smile, nodding quickly as you wrap your hands around gojos neck, clinging to him as his dick drives into you. geto stands up, coming up behind you pressing a kiss on your neck, “you need me to help get you off?”
“she doesn’t need anything from you, i’m doing just fine,” gojo mumbles, but he lets you slightly raise up off of his dick and he smirks as he feels geto join him, geto’s dick presses against gojo in excitement as they wait in anticipation for you to enclose them with your pussy. 
“don’t be nervous,” geto coos from behind you, nipping at your ear. you look at gojo and he gives you an encouraging nod, and you slide back down onto them hissing in slight pain as you feel them both enter you. “it’s okay pretty, you’re doing so so well,” geto continues to reassure you, pressing soothing kisses down your neck, his lips sucking at your flesh. you all pause as you fully take them both in, and you feel the pain subside smiling at gojo giving him permission to move. 
geto follows suit, and you all move in tandem, fucking against each other. gojo places his hands on your ass, pushing your cheeks in pace with his movements whereas geto’s hands cup your tits, holding them firmly as he spreads his fingers over your nipples, rolling them.
“fu-fuck you two are too big, you can’t” you whine, clawing against gojo’s chest. they were both drilling into you relentlessly, you couldn’t catch your breath as every second you were being double stuffed with dick. tears spring to your eyes, as you cry out in pleasure, grinding down against them trying to get as much as them as possible. 
“if only you could see how slutty our girl looks,” gojo says to geto, as he watches your head fall back, another moan escaping your lips. “her eyes are all glossed over, she’s fucking crying, all slutted out on our dicks right now.”
“is that so?” geto mutters, he forces himself into you deeper, his back hitching up against yours, his clench on your tits tightening as he inches himself in your pussy, his hips slapping against you. “she’s such a good slut, i knew she’d be able to take us well, and look she’s loving it, already creaming all over us, isn’t that baby?”
you nod, your hand coming up to hold geto’s head as he nestles into your neck. you were losing your train of thought, you wanted to tell them how good they felt, how their dicks rubbing against each other in you was all you needed for the rest of you life, but when you open your mouth all that can leave your lips is incoherent words and moans. 
both of them smile, watching as you come undone on their dicks. gojo gives geto a nod, and their hands trade places. gojos fingers coming back to your tits, rubbing and pushing them apart before lowering his head to your chest, nuzzling your boobs. gojo and geto were so close that some things between them didn’t need to be spoken, and they were so close to you that they knew your body in and out. they knew when to push and pull, and where to suck just to get you cumming their lap.
“i’m s-so close, i’m gonna cu—” you try and speak out, but your mind is too far gone for you to finish. their dicks slip out of you as your bounces become sloppy, the pleasure too much for you but geto forces you back muttering reassurance in your neck. and the sudden contact causes you to cum, you release all over both them, but they don’t stop their movements, their dicks driving into you still, pushing back in all the cum you were letting out.
“satoru, we gonna give our girl one final stuffing?” geto prompts, and gojo nods, they both give you one final push and you could feel your pussy stretch as their cum sprays your walls. you wail out, the tears streaming your face as your body jerks forward, feeling their dicks go limp inside of you as you all pant in pleasure.
“that was fucking amazing,” gojo praises, a blissful smile on his face as he leans back his head resting on his arms. you return his smile, your lips meeting his in a quick kiss, that he groans at as you pull away. you come off his dick slowly, all of your eyes staring at the ropes of cum that immediately spill out of your pussy as he unplugs you. 
geto turns your head to face him, his dick still lodged deeply inside of you, he pulls you into a long kiss, his mouth smothering yours. he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, roughly biting down on it before releasing you, his hand cupping your chin, forcing you to stare up at him “you’re mine, my pretty slutty mess.”
“um she’s ours,” gojo chimes in, but geto shrugs, not caring to listen to your other friend. geto, finally pulls you off his dick, and your pussy clenches around nothing, already missing the feeling of their dicks.
“you too always know to take good care of me,” you exhale, exhausted your pussy sore about being stretched open by the two of them. geto pulls you back into his original hold, leaning back against his chest, and your legs stretch over gojo’s lap. but this time instead of innocent gentle touches, geto’s hands lazily tug at your nipples, and gojo caresses your naked thighs, his fingers flicking at your clit every now and again.
“that’s what friends are for,” geto muses, pressing his lips against your cheek before saying, “now satoru, are you gonna press play on this shitty movie or what?”
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AN: ight so there you have it my FIRST FIC of kinktober, what do you guys think I need to hear all your thoughts since Ooooof this took me so long to write. so I hope it is worth it. also if you see my bias towards geto during this then LOOK AWAY, im sorry gojo stans but im a geto lover foreverrr. but yeahhh lmk ur thoughts stay tuned for my other kink tober fics which WILL be on time I promise smooches.
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rattlinbog · 1 year ago
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i gotta say, a couple of babies/kids and a good dog really do enhance a party
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ozzgin · 3 months ago
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Yandere! Circus
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I've been wanting to draw some of my dolls for the longest time and this turned out to be my most detailed artwork so far :') And since I really love the circus, I thought I could turn this into an interactive story, too. Let me know what you think! Based on classic stock characters from Italian theatre, Commedia dell'arte. Content: gender neutral reader, horror, dark comedy, human and monster romance
You're finally here! Come on in, don't be afraid. Where is everyone else, you ask? Why, you're our only special guest, Darling (Y/N). This is all for you. Come, do not upset the Ringmaster. We will show you everything.
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A night carnival? You've never heard of such a thing. Nonetheless, curiosity got the better of you when you found the trampled poster on your way back home. The actual message almost escaped your attention; you'd been too focused on the thick, ornate border, and the colorful, swirling patterns intricately filling the page.
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"Last night in town! 'Wizard of Ozz' Night Circus, a mesmerizing show that will keep you glued to your seat. We're still searching for our Columbina. Perhaps you could become part of our story?"
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Might as well check it out. Which is why you're currently here, in the outskirts, trying to find a walkable path among the weeds. It's dark and you can barely see anything in front of you. They're not trying very hard to provide an inviting atmosphere, you think to yourself.
Eventually, you discern a glimmer of light in the distance. You have found the circus tents.
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The campsite is quiet and still, causing you to hesitate in your decision. Is it truly open?
There's a faint murmur coming from the main entrance. A small, melancholic Pierrot - when did he show up? - awaits by the heavy curtain, pale hands stretched out.
"Your ticket, Columbina", he announces with decorum. "Me and Arlecchino will show you any tent you want to visit. We are here to entertain you."
He ponders for a moment, before adding:
"I'm sure you'll like him more. He's a very alluring fellow. Me, on the other hand...Oh, forget it", he mumbles through pouting lips, ushering you inside.
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"Aha! There's the star of our night! Our Columbina!"
A tall man in a pompous, glittery costume bounces towards you and lowers himself with a theatrical bow, giving your fingers a quick kiss. You pull your hand away, visibly bothered by the odd gesture.
"You keep calling me that. I'm (Y/N)", you argue.
"Yes, yes, of course we know that. Do ya take us for fools?" the Harlequin asks, kicking one foot in the air. The jingle of the bells at the tip of his shoe echoes across the hall. "You have, however - you must understand, yes? - you've entered Ringmaster's Circus. From now on, you are the Columbina to our play."
You raise your eyebrows in disbelief.
"Just like that? Why me, and not someone else?" you scan the surroundings, pursing your lips. "Where are the others?"
"Others?"
Harlequin makes an exaggeratedly shocked face and tilts his head towards Pierrot.
"What are they saying? You're the only one here, Columbina darling. After tonight, we-"
Pierrot's hand lands firmly on his friend's lips.
"You always talk too much. Always, always! And yet, you're the favorite. Of course you are. Oh, what pity, what misfortune", the pale young man laments. "We're wasting precious time."
They both burst into a little dance; a rather silly one, you think with an amused smile. Then, they place themselves besides the entrance, each one standing at one end, back straight and chins raised.
"Go on, go ahead, Columbina darling. This is your carnival. Choose any tent you'd like."
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Pulcinella's Tent
The stage is pitch black, save for one spotlight contouring a patch of ground. You can see a large, colorful ball, and two feet clumsily rolling their way atop of it.
You chuckle at the sight. This must be the clown.
"No one can compete with Pulcinella's juggling", Pierrot declares somewhat monotonously. "His acrobatic spectacle has left many guests speechless, acting with such dexterity that one must wonder: is this truly the work of two hands?"
Lights flicker, allowing you to catch glimpses of smaller balls being thrown around. Juggling so many balls while bouncing around is indeed impressive.
"Rest assured, this is the art of one single man. Although four eyes are better than two."
The shadows are abruptly swallowed by spotlights, and you squint your eyes, adjusting to the brightness. A two-headed man continues his performance, throwing you the occasional cheeky smile.
"Ah, that is..." you place a hand over your mouth.
"A bother, truly", the Pierrot remarks, sitting next to you. "They're complete opposites."
He observes as both Pulcinella's heads tilt in your direction, visibly entranced. He sighs deeply:
"You'll love them either way. They're funny and entertaining, unlike me...A pathetic miser. Oh, if only I had half their charm!" he bemoans with a soft sob.
"Hey! Don't sadden my beloved like that", Pulcinella barks, jumping off the ball and running towards your seating with a comically merry jingle to accompany him.
You cannot help but marvel at the man in front of you.
"Enough of this, I've had enough! You don't get to decide yet, Pulcinella", Pierrot exclaims in sudden panic. He claws your wrist tightly and pulls you after him. "It's time to see other tents."
Sandrone's Tent
You peek behind the heavy curtain and freeze. Are your eyes deceiving you? Someone is idly resting at the bottom of a large aquarium, showing no struggle despite being underwater. The mysterious man senses your presence and emerges to the surface.
"Would you look at that! I can't remember the last time I had a visitor."
He gestures for you to come closer.
"Are you the new guest? Our Columbina?"
"I don't know what you're talking about", you speak up with hesitation, eyes glued to the scaly tail that seems eerily genuine. "I think I'll be leaving now."
"Leaving? Didn't the Ringmaster already tell you?" The merman claps his hands, amused. "You're naïve, I like that a lot. Perhaps this time I'll be the one to have you."
He abruptly grabs your wrist, and you jolt at the feeling. His hands are ice-cold and moist.
"Let me have a look at you, won't you? I'll help you hide from the others if you're good and listen to me."
You feel a pair of hands sinking into your shoulders, and you're ripped away from the merman. Harlequin's voice rumbles deeply across the room.
"You're being a fox again, aren't you, Sandrone? Hands off our guest! You don't get to pick yet", he scolds in a low growl. "Ringmaster won't be happy about it."
"Go on then, tell on me! Ringmaster's good boy, eh?" the dark-skinned man smirks mockingly and slams his tail against the glass. "Put a collar on that one, Columbina. See how well he barks", he snarls, then slides back underwater and promptly vanishes.
Harlequin's grip on your shoulders becomes tighter for a brief moment. You can tell he's tense.
"Let's get you out of here. Don't listen to a word he says, Columbina darling. He lies, you see? No one trusts him. You should rely on me."
Pantalone's Tent
You gawk at the impressive height of this tent, head nearly spinning from tilting yourself all the way back. Ah, this must be the trapeze artist. Indeed, one of the two handles is dangling above you, and it occurs to you there's no safety net. A tall, lean man swiftly pounces across, reaching for the trapeze. His movements are slow, yet calculated, and you can't help but wonder if he might actually be flying instead.
Upon closer inspection, it appears he has no arms.
"Madness", you find yourself shouting. "Stop this nonsense!"
He gracefully wraps his legs around the bar, swinging back and forth with a confident smile.
"You doubt me, Pantalone himself?"
With another thrust, he lets himself go, spiraling down against your terrified protests. His heeled shoes clack against the hard tile. Lastly, he stretches out his bandaged stumps, as if signaling his successful landing.
You find yourself bowing to the grand gesture.
"Yes, yes, it's rather impressive, isn't it?" Pierrot follows behind you in his usual dull tone. "Pantalone is our master acrobat."
He lifts his gaze and notices that the man didn't bother waiting for a full introduction; he's already standing before you with a flirty grin.
"...and a charmer, I suppose. What, you're already doing your tricks?"
The sallow clown squeezes himself behind you two protectively.
"Shoo, shoo! Columbina is merely visiting."
He lightly pushes you away, towards the exit. You throw one final glance at the mysterious individual; he waves with his residual limb, and winks.
"You know where to find me, love."
Il Capitano's Tent
You feel a radiant heat coming from this tent. In the middle of the ring stands a grand cage. An animal of sorts? You keep your distance, observing from the benches.
A monstrous giant stumbles within your view with heavy steps. A thick, scaly tail rattles the bars of the cage, swinging itself with the precision of a bullwhip.
"Il Capitano himself!" the Harelquin announces theatrically, bending his arms in the direction of the blue beast. "The strongman, the fire-spitting artist, a most devilish creature captured and chained by our Ringmaster."
"Is this one mine?" the monstrous man pins you down with a predatory gaze.
"Perhaps", Harlequin spits out bitterly. "They decide, not you."
You squirm in your seat, suddenly much smaller under his intense stare. The charismatic guide's smile falters for a brief second, replaced by an envious grimace.
Il Capitano inhales deeply, expanding his torso and contracting his muscles. His fanged mouth then unhinges, releasing a great flame which spreads all the way to you. You're almost tempted to reach towards it, feeling the sting with your very fingers.
"Amazing", you mumble, still mesmerized by the spectacle.
This was no cheap trickery. Capitano is truly a one-of-a-kind artist. No human could replicate such a feat.
The beastly creature holds onto the bars of his cage, shoving his snout outside and grinning. Puffs of smoke escape between his teeth.
"Come down here and I can do even more, little one."
Harlequin gasps and gestures for you to stand up.
"Outrageous! How dare you-!"
He urges you to follow him outside. Enough monstrous sights for now.
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"Shall we head towards the other tents, darling?"
Harlequin walks ahead, deep in contemplation. Pierrot scurries after him, whispering the remaining choices. Your shoulders are heavy, and you're quite tired from the eventful night.
You notice a little opening between the lavish curtain folds and decide to sneak away. They needn't know about your departure. You stumble around dark halls, following the cool breeze of the outside, until you're met with the starry sky.
Your path is blocked by two large poles, so you step to the right. Your body freezes in terror when they move with you. Slowly, you raise your head and follow the black shapes, and realize they're legs.
Far, far above ground, towering over the entire circus, you see two glowing eyes.
It's the Ringmaster.
"Bad, bad Columbina", he reproaches.
The voice is off, like an old, broken record reverberating against your eardrums. A cold shiver runs across your spine.
"I'm sorry", you blurt out in fear.
A long, bony hand appears before you, twitching with a loud pop. You wrap your hands around a finger, desperate to not anger this unholy creation.
"Let's take you to your caravan. We're leaving tomorrow."
Oh, God. What have you done?
Now, now, don't fret. There's nothing to be afraid of. Come, put that frown aside. Everyone loves you here. After all, you're their most precious Columbina. What's a Circus without its treasure?
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tsukimefuku · 6 months ago
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voice kink ♪ nanami kento
I ended up watching a YouTube short of Kenjiro Tsuda and it made me deeply unwell, hence this 30 minute drabble. Have my horny. Part 2 here
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Nanami was a dedicated — you could even say devoted — lover. Truly, after so much time together, you doubted there was anything vanilla-related this man wouldn’t do in bed if you asked him to. The sheer lengths he’d go to have you finishing at least twice every time you had sex were surprising.
However, there was this one thing that still nagged you. You thought about it, mulled it over, and considered talking to him after he got home. However, your eagerness to talk about it got the better of you.
“Kento, why don’t you talk dirty to me when we’re having sex?” you asked him, still laying on the bed with your pajamas on.
He turned to you surprised, already dressed in his classic blue buttoned shirt, beige formal pants, and yellow tie with a splatter pattern hanging around his neck as he got ready to leave for work.
“For no reason in particular. I think I just tend to focus on how it feels rather than talking about it,” he answered, “why? Would you rather have me talking more?”
“Perhaps. I mean… I find your voice very sexy,” you admitted, blushing a little, “and one of my favorite parts of sex is when I get to hear it.”
He lifted an eyebrow, a soft hint of amusement taking over his impassiveness.
“You do?”
“Yes.”
He seemed to ponder on something for a moment, and then, began walking towards the bed as he opened the top button of his shirt.
You were confused for a moment as he climbed with his work clothes from the end of the mattress. However, in an instant, he took both your hands, entangling your fingers while he pressed them to the sides of your head, and sunk his hips in between your thighs, his belt softly catching on the edge of your pants.
Having you caged underneath him, Nanami brushed his lips against your cheek, and slid them slowly down.
His warm breath caressed your skin, and Nanami grazed his teeth on your earlobe before whispering only inches away from your ear, “what would you like to hear me say?”
“A-anything, really,” you stuttered out, thoughts becoming nothing but jumbled bits in your brain.
He hummed, “then, let me tell you what my favorite part is.”
Each syllable had you melting like honey under him, his deep tone caressing your hearing in all the right ways.
“My favorite part is when you are about to finish for the second time with me inside you, and you always dig your nails on my shoulders. I really like when I look in the mirror and see those tiny marks you leave me with, because every time I notice that they’re gone, I know it’s time to get some new ones.”
You let out a moan, sinking your head back on the pillow and arching your back. He pressed himself a little harder, and proceeded.
“I also find your taste to be exquisite, but I’m still unsure if it feels better when I have my tongue deep inside as you tremble all around it or when I’m thrusting it in your mouth right after I’m finished eating you out.”
Another moan tumbled out of your lips as you felt your heartbeat throbbing in between your legs, and at that moment, you were absolutely sure that if he kept going, you’d cum completely untouched underneath him.
“K-Kento...”
“Also, feeling you all warm and wet and tight around my cock when you ask me to have you completely raw is one of the most delicious sensations I’ve had in my entire life, topped only by when I cum inside you and fill you whole, all thick and warm.”
Holy. Fuck.
Your body was quivering underneath him, your breath completely broken in hitches, and you squirmed your hips desperate for some friction over your pooling wetness.
“I hope I gave you enough for you to think about me while I’m gone at work, darling,” Nanami concluded, planting a kiss on your cheek before lifting himself up, carrying his warmth along with him.
You realized that moment you definitely should’ve waited until that night to tell him that.
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elixirfromthestars · 3 months ago
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A Night of Frights & Delights
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Pairing: Athlete!Bucky Barnes x Artist!Reader (College AU)
Summary: It’s Friday the 13th and the college kids in town decided to host a weekend camping trip on the outskirts of town. Your best friend convinced you to go much to your reluctance. What could go wrong when the one guy you can’t stand is also there?
Word Count: 7k
Warning(s): slight horror themes / suggestive tones + implications / mentions of a past murder (not in graphic detail just campfire storytelling) / slow burn / suspense + other elements of spookiness / touch starved elements / be prepared for lots of back and forth + tension
Prompt: Campsite + forced proximity + “ It’s not bad enough to have Friday the 13th, we’ve gotta have a full moon too?”
a/n: here’s my entry for @witchywithwhiskey ‘s summer slasher writing challenge. Any chance to celebrate summerween and I’m there 🤭✨ I got carried away with the spooky element of it and this ended up longer than expected. Thank you for reading! 🧡 Feedback is always appreciated!! 🎃🧡
a steamy part two ❤️‍🔥
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“ It’s Friday the 13th! Gather ‘round, for some good ol’ scary campfire stories!” Sam Wilson called out to anyone who would listen. A task that wasn’t the easiest thing to ask for when all the college students in the area were trying to have their last bit of fun before fall semester started. Amongst the ones that weren’t already drunk or passed out, a few were trying to find the perfect opportunity to sneak away into the night.
You on the other hand sat near the bonfire, appreciating the warmth it provided on this chilly night. Your back was resting against a log. The scratchy surface grazes against your black sweater at the slightest movement. Camping wasn’t your ideal choice for a weekend getaway, but when your best friend Jane insisted on you coming along it was hard to say no. Especially, since you had already said no to multiple get-togethers throughout the summer. 
It’s not like you didn’t want to hang out with her. The issue was that wherever she was her boyfriend was—and wherever he was his friends were. And his friends included one smartass star pitcher for your university’s baseball team who made it his life’s mission to be a thorn in your side. 
Needless to say, you couldn’t stand the man.
“ It was actually 1982, not 1985,” Jane whispers her comment to you, nudging your arm lightly. You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at her, your clueless eyes meeting her amused ones. 
“ You’re not paying attention to Sam’s story, are you?” She quietly calls you out, leaning slightly closer. You shake your head sheepishly,“ No. Kind of got lost in thought,” you admit. Jane nods in acknowledgment,“ You’re not missing much. He’s just telling the story of the murders that happened here in ‘82,” she explains. You nod slowly, an eerie chill creeping up your spine. Everyone within fifty miles of the town knew of the horrific crime. It was the worst the town had ever seen. 
A group of teenagers had snuck off into the woods to party a week before their senior graduation. They brought their camping gear to spend the night under the full moon to celebrate the milestone. They had gone so deep into the woods no one heard their music blasting all night. 
No one heard their screams either as their life was taken from them. 
You took a shaky breath, your fingers tracing random patterns into the dirt beneath you. Even though you could recite this story from memory it was different hearing it told in gruesome detail. Something Sam was not shying away from doing. 
“ Don’t let Sam’s story get to you—here have a s’more,” Thor spoke up, handing you a small disposable plate with a freshly assembled s’more. His way of trying to comfort you. 
“ Thanks,” you shot Thor an appreciative smile, taking the sweet treat. Jane’s boyfriend had always been kind to you and you got along well. The mutual friendliness extended to all of his baseball friends.
Well, the friendliness extended to all his friends except for one.  
“ He’s telling it wrong anyway, so don’t pay it any mind,” Jane says causing you to let out a small laugh. Leave it to Jane to alleviate your nerves by just being herself. 
You try to drown out Sam’s true crime retelling and focus on the sugary gooeyness on your lap. Jane and Thor snuggle into each other beside you and a small smile appears on your face at the sight. You take a bite of the s’more, letting the flavors melt into your mouth. 
“ The next morning the cops led a search party into these very woods. Everyone searched day and night for three days straight. Scouting every inch, no stone unturned, to find them. And then one day, one member of the search party found something. That member being my Titi—so listen close,” Sam sets up the big reveal. 
“ Wanna know what they found?” A voice you know all too well whispers into your ear from behind. The hairs on the back of your neck stand as his breath fans your ear. 
“ I already know,” you grit out, turning your head to glare at him. Bucky can’t help the cocky grin that overcomes him when you look at him like that. He makes his way over the log and sits right next to you. You don’t hide the displeasure on your face. 
“ Couldn’t find anyone else to annoy, James?” 
 “ None worth my time, sweetheart—and it's Bucky.” 
You roll your eyes biting back a snarky comment. No matter the number of times he insists on you calling him by his nickname, you refuse to. Only his friends call him Bucky, and you're not friends—far from it. So to you, he’s James and nothing more. 
“ We’re not friends, James. Friends don’t make you miss your biology final,” you remind him bitterly. He looks at you with slight disbelief,“ You’re still stuck on that? How is it my fault the party went until four in the morning?” You bristle at his defensiveness. 
“ I don’t know. Maybe by not kicking everyone out of your apartment?” you retort, taking another bite of your s’more. Hoping to lose yourself in the sweetness of it before the distaste of his presence taints it. 
“ At least the professor let you make it up…” he mutters under his breath. 
“ That’s not the point,” you snip, unable to let him have the last word. You pretend to focus on Sam’s story, but really your attention is on the flames in front of you. The way they dance and crackle as if telling their own story alongside Sam’s. 
Bucky stares at you, his eyes scanning every detail of your face. His favorite pastime is finding all the ways to push your buttons. There’s something about your reactions that he can’t help but want to see more of. He openly enjoys being the only one who can elicit such responses from you. Hell, you could say he was proud of it. 
“ Stop it.” 
“ Stop what?” 
“ The staring.” 
“ Don't want to.” 
You turn to give him a piece of your mind but abruptly stop when you see the way he’s looking at you—or more so the way he’s examining your lips. His eyes reflecting more than just the golden flames in the bonfire. There was something deeper and not entirely unfamiliar. He had looked at you this way before, and yet it was still unrecognizable to you. An emotion you couldn’t pinpoint, but that was heartstopping nonetheless. 
His hand lifts to your face, his thumb brushing away at something on the corner of your mouth. Your tongue instinctively darts out to lick your lips and remove whatever remnants of the s’more are left. Something unreadable flashes in his eyes. You wonder what he must be seeing in yours when his eyes drift from your lips to your gaze. 
“ You had a little something there,” his voice has a deeper cadence to it, contrasting the cheeky grin plastered on his face. That damn grin. It’s all you need to snap out of whatever trance you were just in. 
“ You’re insufferable,” you hiss out, getting up from your spot on the ground and stepping away from the bonfire. You hate how he does this—how easily he’s able to mess with you. It’s like it's his second nature to know exactly how to get a reaction from you. Almost as if he knew you better than you knew yourself.
The vulnerability of it all is what ground your gears the most. Bucky was used to this. The flirting, the back and forth, the teasing, and having girls wrapped around his finger. The last time you were in a relationship was your freshman year of college—a few years ago. It had been too long of being touch-starved that the slightest of touches or gazes brought about a yearning deep within you. One that you swore Bucky could see right through and it made you detest the man more. 
You hated feeling like you were being toyed with. But above all, you hated how much you actually didn’t hate the attention he gave you. 
You make your way over to one of the many trashcans around the campsite and dump the last bits of your s’more in along with the disposable plate. Your appetite for the treat long gone after his little stunt. 
You use your phone as a flashlight as you walk over to where all the tents are stationed. It’s not too far from the bonfire, but far enough that the voices of everyone drown out into a low hum. A few people are already in the tents enjoying the night without the warmth of the fire. 
“ Y/n! Hold up!” Jane calls out to you from behind. You face her confused expression, “ Everything okay?” You nod, your hands hiding in the pockets of your grey sweatpants,“ Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna call it a night,” you say tiredly. You don’t want her to worry or keep her from enjoying her night. 
“ Okay…Are you sure? Because you seemed off after Bucky—” 
“ Please for the love of everything don’t mention him.”
Jane drops the subject entirely, “ Okay, okay. I won’t,” she assures you and pauses for a moment before she adds, “ By the way, I’ll be staying with Thor tonight, so you have our tent all to yourself.” 
“ Oh? Oh…behave yourself, Foster,” you warn her playfully. She rolls her eyes waving off your tease,“ No promises.” You laugh together—the exchange alleviating the heaviness in your shoulders.
After a light farewell, your best friend retreats to the bonfire. You find your eyes drifting from her figure to the back of Bucky’s head. He’s still sitting in the same spot, right next to where you had sat. He was drinking away at a beer as Sam continues his story. You look away, ignoring the way your heart feels a small pang as it wonders if it would have been so bad if you had stayed.
Only Bucky had this way of infuriating you, but enticing you at the same time. A magnetic push and pull that tugs at you whenever you’re near him. 
You crouch down and unzip your humble abode for the night. Gazing up at the sky before heading in. The moon is bright and full amongst the dark hazy clouds. 
“ It's not bad enough to have Friday the 13th, we've gotta have a full moon too?” you grumble before entering the tent. The knowledge of being in here alone all night sounds less appealing now. You wish Sam had told a different story to set the mood for tonight. 
For the next couple of hours, you lose yourself in your sketchbook. Every corner of the tent became your makeshift desk as the soft scratches of graphite filled the air. A small LED lantern casting just enough glow to guide your intricate curves and shadows across the paper. At first, you were sketching a flower you had seen earlier in the day along a trail. You don’t recognize the species, but the cluster of pretty violet petals vividly lived in your head and you wanted it forever memorialized in your sketchbook. 
At some point, however, the petals turn into doodles and then unrecognizable scribbles. The creative flow taking a life of its own. You soon find yourself drawing a pair of eyes on another page. Giving them a space of their own. These eyes you recognize deep down, but they still have the same unreadable expression from earlier. Almost as if you hoped to decipher it by putting it on paper. 
Maybe then it would be easier to look at them without being affected—without feeling that pull. 
There’s a loud thump that echoes close to your tent. You freeze at the sound. By this point, everyone had called it a night and retreated to their sleeping arrangements. It had been at least half an hour that you hadn’t heard a single sound except for the chirping of crickets amongst a chorus of other creepy crawlers. 
When no sound followed the thump you decided to ignore it—acting like you hadn’t heard a thing. And yet, your fingers swiftly moved to turn off the lantern and close your sketchbook, neatly tucking it beneath your pillow. 
Another noise rang out—the skidding of dirt. And this time it was closer to your tent. Not directly outside it, but almost. You don’t know why your heart dropped or why your fingertips went cold, but they did. You tell yourself it’s probably just someone going out to use the bathroom or some other related activity. 
Your body betrayed your mind as it started to feel enclosed in the tent. Like a prey caught in a trap. Hopelessly awaiting the moment the predator decided to take them out. 
You swallow the lump in your throat and with numb fingers, you grab your phone. The tent shrinking around you as your heart pounded in your chest. Going out to investigate the source of the noise wasn't the smartest idea. However, continuing to be a sitting duck in the tent was distressing you more—and that helpless feeling overpowered anything else. 
You slowly unzip the tent, trying to make as minimal noise as possible. You slip on your moccasins, putting one foot in front of the other as you step out into the night. Your surroundings are cast in shadows as the moon seems to be hiding behind a gloomy cluster of clouds. You look around and notice no one else is awake. Only dormant tents with sleeping residents inside accompany you in the night. 
You scan the area, training your ear to see if you can pick up any noise. 
That’s when you hear it—a rustling in the bushes. 
You peer into the woods, your eyes narrowing hoping to center on something, but you can’t see anything. There’s a slight fog that encases the lines of trees encircling the campsite obstructing your view. 
You take a few steps forward, hugging your sweater closer to your body. The outside air catches you off guard with its falling degrees. The shadows at every corner of the woods become creatures of the night if you stare at them for too long. 
Why were you doing this? Why had you decided this was a good idea? 
You questioned yourself. An unpleasant shiver goes up your spine at the thought of you walking straight into a creature’s claws. Your footing stumbled, and yet you found yourself walking further in the direction of the sound, the faint glow of your phone illuminating your path. You decided against using the actual flashlight on your phone as it could easily alert whatever was hiding in the foliage of the woods. 
You don’t go too far from the campsite. Your legs only take you a few feet away from the perimeter of it before tensing at the way the hoot of an owl cuts through the stillness of the night. Your breath caught in your throat, and you gripped your phone tighter. The edges of it digging into your skin. 
“ What are we looking for?” A voice too close for comfort whispers behind you and it causes you to shriek, your phone tumbling to the ground as you jump away from the source. Your eyes zero in on the culprit—your blood boiling when your gaze meets his ceruleans. 
James Buchanan fucking Barnes.
A deep chuckle erupts from Bucky at your reaction. Not only at the way you jumped, but also at the way you’re now seething. He stands there in a basic white tee and black joggers, his hair slightly unkempt from lying on it earlier in the night. 
“ What the hell is wrong with you?” You hiss, bending down to pick up your phone from the ground. The anxiety from before dissipating into irritation. 
“ Me? What’s up with you? Sneaking around in the woods at night. That’s kinda creepy, sweetheart,” he jabs with a smirk. You roll your eyes, exhaling to steady your breath,“ Stop calling me that. And I'm not sneaking around—I heard something.” 
“ And you came to check it out?” 
“ Yeah.”
“ You have no survival instincts, do you?”
“ And you do? You're out here too.”
Bucky crosses his arms, his eyes roaming over your figure. He’s thoroughly entertained by your attempt to catch whatever is out there in your cozy outfit. It’s not exactly monster-hunting material. 
“ I let my buddy have the tent for the night. He’s got a girl in there. Thought I'd sleep under the stars like nature intended,” he explains with a nonchalant shrug. A wry smile appears on your face,“ Aren’t you a great friend,” you reply sarcastically. He’s about to give you a snippy retort when a branch breaks ahead of you, causing you both to snap your attention to it. 
You both go silent—wondering if you’ll hear anything more. Bucky takes a few steps forward to stand in front of you. Positioning himself between you and the unknown noise. 
“ Is that what you heard earlier?” He asks, his voice a hushed whisper. Your eyes drift up his form and the way his arm is slightly outstretched in your direction in a protective stance. He’s looking in the direction of where the sound came from, but then his head turns back to look at you. 
It takes you a second to gather your words,“ Sort of. At first there was like a loud thud by my tent and then some rustling—and now this,” you describe the unfolding events thus far.
He frowns,“ Is your tent the one by Wanda’s?”At his question you nod,“ Yeah…why?” He tilts his head slightly as he tries to recollect something. 
“ The two-person one with the purple edges?” 
“ Yeah…” 
His features soften, dawning on a sheepish expression. His protective stance faltering as he scratches the back of his neck,“ The noise was me then—sorry. I tripped over something while looking for a place to piss.” 
“ Oh…” Is all you manage to say. Feeling utterly foolish for getting so worked up over nothing. What you had thought was something going bump in the night ended up being Bucky stumbling to relieve himself. 
Another branch cracks in the murky fog. Reminding you that although the noises you heard outside your tent were explained, the ones here, not too far from you and Bucky—weren’t. 
“ I’m gonna go check it out,” he takes a step forward, but you stop him. Your hand shoots out to grip the hem of his shirt,“ Don’t! Are you crazy? You’re going to get yourself killed or something!”
His eyebrows raise, not expecting you to have that reaction.“ Are you worried about me, sweetheart?” A smirk spreads across his face, a twinkle in his eye.“ As if—screw you,” you deny harsher than you intended, removing your hold from his shirt. This only provokes him more, his smirk turning into a cheeky grin,“ You wanna?” 
“ You know what? I hope whatever is out there gets you.” 
“ Oh, you’d miss me if it did. But don’t worry—if it gets me, I’ll make sure to let it know you’re the one worth chasing." 
Bucky doesn’t give you a second to process what his words really mean. Instead, he takes out a small flashlight from the pocket of his joggers. He turns it on, shining the area ahead of him. A brazen expression is the last thing you see before he wanders into that direction of the woods as if there wasn’t potentially something dangerous up ahead. 
You wanted to protest, but you didn’t. Rather, you end up standing there amongst the wilderness, watching as his form gets smaller and smaller until it disappears into the haze of the fog. 
You feel uneasy as soon as you don’t see him. Your chest feels heavy with the unknown. You call out to him. Thinking maybe he’s doing this to prove something or to mess with you. When he doesn’t call back you find apprehension in the sinking pit of your stomach. 
Behind you, the campsite is still in sight. The smart thing to do would be to go wake someone up—like Thor—to go after Bucky. However, your feet work faster than your mind does, pushing you to follow after him. 
This time you use the flashlight on your phone to light your path. The luminescence cuts through the fog as you trudge through it. Leaves crunching beneath your feet, and hands outstretched lightly to use the passing trees as support to persist onward. 
You walk for a good few minutes before you finally spot him. He’s standing by a tall pine tree, his right hand tracing over something etched into the bark. 
“ James! Come back to the campsite!” You whisper yelled, approaching him. He hummed,“ So you are worried about me,” the smugness in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you. When he turns to face you his eyes tell you he was expecting you. Like he knew in the end your stubbornness and pride wouldn’t matter because you’d end up following after him after all.
You are worried about him. He needs no further proof than your actions. 
There was a prickling of annoyance building up in your system. More than anything, you wanted to get out of the woods as soon as possible. The campsite feels like a haven awaiting your return. 
“ Can you stop being so insufferably cocky for one second and just come back to the camp before I drag your ass back?” You say through gritted teeth. You wanted to have more bark to your bite, but the inkling dread of what could be out here stopped you from crossing that line. 
He stepped closer to you, the glow of his flashlight reflecting in his eyes in tiny glimmers,“ Why? I thought you didn't care if ‘whatever is out there’ got me.”
“ I don’t—but I’d hate to be an accomplice to that thing.” 
“ Admit it. You’re worried about me.”
By now Bucky was mere inches away from you. Having slowly sauntered right up to you. His eyes were daring you to speak the truth—his arrogant smile tempting you to do even more. 
“ I came to get you back, but if you’re determined to stay here then stay,” you huff, spinning on your heels to storm off. 
Bucky’s hand reaches out and encloses your wrist gently. Just enough to keep you from walking away. He sighs with defeated ire. 
“ Sweetheart, why won't you admit—” he’s cut off by the swift movement of something dashing past the both of you. He immediately pulls you in closer, his arms encasing you protectively—his body a shield. One arm is wrapped around your waist while the other holds your head. Your own body leans into his as if bracing for impact. 
From the corner of your eye, you can see the culprit of the racket. A deer dashing through the woods like it had somewhere to be. You held back a laugh at the revelation. 
This is what had you so worried this whole time? A deer? 
Even so, your heart races in your chest. And Bucky has you so tightly pressed into his that you can feel the way his own heart is thrumming rapidly. Both of your breaths work to steady from their instability as you realize there is nothing truly to be worried about. 
You stay like this for what seems like an eternity. Finding comfort in each other’s arms. The fog dances around your figures as if pushing you closer. The tips of your fingers tingle from where they’re pressed at his chest. 
When you finally register whose touch it is, you pull away. Bucky reluctantly lets you go. His arms awkwardly falling to his sides. You don’t know what to say. He doesn’t know where to start.
Why was his instinct to protect you? To keep you from harm’s way? 
And why had you felt the safest all night in his arms? 
You swallow the questions that desire to escape. There’s a part of you that feels like you should thank him, but then the other part feels stupid for wanting to do so. Knowing how much it would feed his ego to vindicate him as a hero. 
“ Guess it was just a deer, huh?” Bucky tries to cut through whatever tension is starting to build. 
“ Yeah…silly us…” you reply, half-heartedly. Your mind still reeling from his touch. 
You both go quiet again. The silence welcomes you where words fail to. 
Out of nowhere, you feel a tiny bead land on your head. Followed by one on your hand and then your cheek. It's beginning to drizzle. The rain cutting through the trees and promising to kiss every inch of your skin. 
“ We should get going,” Bucky says, his palm cupped to catch a few droplets. 
“ Yeah, that’s a good idea,” you agree, clearing your throat. In other circumstances, Bucky would rejoice and point out how, for once, you aren’t arguing with him. But not right now—not at this moment. Not when the memory of holding each other stirred something within you both. 
No, now instead you walk back to the campsite in silence. You’re a few steps ahead as Bucky decides to tow along at a slower pace. Seemingly lost in thought. 
When you’re back at the campsite your eyes dart to your tent. It’s within reach. A safety you can hideout in until the emotions Bucky arose in you fade away.  
“ Can I chill in your tent for a while? Just until the rain stops,” Bucky surprises you with his request. Until you remember he gave up his tent to his friend for the night. 
“ What? No,” your response is immediate. The thought of you and Bucky alone in your tent causes many scenarios to run through your head. You didn’t think you’d make it through the night with him in it. You were barely hanging on as it is. 
“ I just saved your life.” 
“ You did not.”
“ Did too.” 
“ James, you absolutely did not–” 
“ Please,” his soft plea tugs at the very part of you that wants to say yes. He’s not the kind of guy to beg, but he’ll do anything to not stand out in the cold rain. You being in an enclosed space with him was just a bonus. 
An extremely tantalizing bonus. 
“ Fine…but only until the rain stops,” you concede. You weren’t heartless enough to leave him out in the rain. 
You zip open the tent and climb inside. You remove your moccasins and leave them by the entrance. The inside is spacious enough for the two of you, but you still find yourself going into the furthest right corner of it. You sit crossed-legged as you turn on the small LED lantern to illuminate the tent with its muted glow. He makes his way inside, his hair glistening from the rain. He leaves his muddied slides by your moccasins. 
“ This tent is way nicer than the one Sam and I got,” he comments, running a hand through his hair to dispel the droplets. He’s trying to make light conversation, keeping his distance as he sits in the corner by the entrance diagonally from you. 
“ Jane’s family is really into camping so she had this one laying around…” you mention. The oddity of small talk between you fills the space with a foreign dynamic. The rain goes from a sprinkle to a pour. Hitting the top of the fabric cacoon in harsh strokes.  
He chooses to pivot the conversation.“ Do you have everything ready for fall semester?” He asks you, maneuvering to sit with his knees bent, his shirt hiking up the smallest bit to expose the skin at his hips. You avert your gaze when your heart does a little flip. 
“ Almost. I still have one or two textbooks to get,” you reply, playing with a few loose threads of the blanket beneath you. Anything to not have your eyes wander back to him. 
He scoffs lightly,“ You already got your textbooks? There’s no way. I always get ‘em after the first week.” Unlike you, he can’t seem to keep his pretty blues away from you. Your features heightened in the gentle sheen of the lantern. Intricate shadows scattered across your figure that made you look ethereal. The way his heart hammered in his chest romanticizing the sight of you.
“ That's because I’m responsible and you’re not.” 
“ I am responsible. As captain of the baseball team—”
“ Spare me the team leader speech, please,” you groan, stopping him from continuing. There’s only so much you can take for one night. And hearing Bucky light up as he talks about the one thing he’s passionate about—the one thing that humanizes him to you beyond his usual cheeky self. It would do more to you than just make your heart do a little flip.
You’d end up saying or doing something you wouldn’t be able to take back. 
“ Look, Y/n, I’m just trying to make conversation here. You don’t have to be so difficult all the time. Just talk to me,” Bucky brings you out of your thoughts not only by his exasperated tone, but by the way your name rolls off his tongue. He so rarely calls you by it. He’s called you sweetheart endlessly—and he’s even slipped a few sunshines in the mix—but your name was foreign to his vocabulary.  
 Bucky is usually good at dealing with your constant back and forth. Some days it's the only thing he looks forward to. However, right now it was irritating him how much you pushed back. He wanted you to give in. To what, he wasn’t sure. But he wondered what normalcy felt like with you—what just a damn friendly conversation felt like. 
You sigh, meeting his eyes.“ I don’t want to talk. Sorry, I think I’m just tired. Maybe we should go to bed,” you suggest, hoping that if he says yes you can sleep away the bubbling of emotions in your chest. 
You can see the way he contemplates something, biting the inside of his bottom lip. Now he’s the one holding back. A beat passes and you nervously wonder if he’ll turn down your suggestion. 
“ Fine—it's late anyway. But only if I get to sleep next to you. I promise I’ll keep my distance. It’s just there’s water leaking through the zipper at the entrance,” he mentions, his hand motioning to the entry. Your eyes dart to where he’s pointing and sure enough there’s a small puddle of water pooling by it. Not knowing how long the rain would continue, you knew you had to deal with the issue.
You grab Jane’s camping gear that holds numerous amount of supplies in all of its various pockets. She always came extra prepared no matter the occasion. You take out a washcloth, scooting over to the entrance to soak up the forming puddle. You decide to leave it there neatly tucked underneath where the water was finding its way in.
“ Alright, but if you snore I'm kicking you out,” you warn, but it’s more playful than serious. Something to lighten the mood before you go to bed. A way to dissipate whatever tension’s built up so you'd be able to fall asleep. 
It’s hard to cut through the tension and alleviate its symptoms when your shelter from the storm seems to shrink the more you chat with Bucky. And now sitting right next to him—shoulder to shoulder—it seems like a damn near impossible task. 
" I’ll take my chances. But just so you know, I don’t go down without a fight,” he winks at you, your shoulders brushing. Your heart rate picks up and it takes everything within you to stare into his eyes and not focus on the way that simple contact sent a shiver down your spine. 
His eyes drift to your lips causing your breath to hitch. The implications of where this could go are enough to pull you away from his spell. 
“ Goodnight,” you choke out. Subtly rushing over to your sleeping bag and settling into it. You don’t see when he shakes his head, but you do hear how he chuckles lowly. He mumbles something under his breath, but you can’t pick it up. 
He makes his way over to Jane’s sleeping bag, but lays on top of it instead of nestling into it. Choosing to cover himself only in the maroon fleece blanket that was draped over your body too. 
“ Goodnight,” he finally says, his body turning to face away from you. You respond by turning off the lantern. The space is now engulfed by darkness. Only the faintest of light shines in from the outside, letting your eyes trace the outlines of objects. 
 You turn to your side. Your back facing his. You take a deep breath, concentrating on the sound of the rain to hopefully lull you into a slumber. But the air felt too thick and your body was burning up from the heat radiating under the blanket. There was a good foot or so separating your body and Bucky’s. And yet, you could feel the heat radiating off of him as if he was pressed up right against you. 
It was too much. You swore you started sweating, so you shuffled under the covers and out of the sleeping bag. Every movement slow and deliberate as if to not snap the rope keeping the palpable tension in place. 
When only the plush fleece covered your body, the heat radiated less. But the fluttering of the blanket caused Bucky’s cologne to waft your way. A pleasant scent of musky woodiness with a hint of something that was entirely him. You gripped the cover tightly and counted to ten in your head. You were going mad. 
“ Would you stop hogging the blanket? ” Bucky muttered from beside you. There were a lot of things he wanted to tell you to stop doing. Because you and your constant fidgeting were driving him crazy. Every fiber of his being holding back from doing something to snap that rope. 
You didn’t realize you had been pulling it your way until he mentioned it. Your grip on it loosened,“ Sorry. I wasn’t hogging it though,” you argued for no reason other than to fill the silence. 
“ Yes, you were.” 
“ No, I wasn’t.” 
There was something about the proximity of your bodies that made the blanket seem smaller. Like there was no possible way it could equally cover both of your sleeping forms. Maybe this is what caused you to then tug at it, however, he holds it firmly to himself too.  
Persistently you pull at the blanket again. He pulls back—a tug of war ensues between you. You can hear him huff in the darkness, but you're not letting up. Bucky couldn't care less about the blanket. He only cared about not letting you get the upper hand. His competitive streak showing.  
While you solely really didn’t want to let him win. 
You wrap the end of the blanket around yourself—almost like a cacoon. The delicate fleece encases you. Leaving the bare minimum amount for Bucky to cover himself with. 
“ You have got to be one of the most stubborn people I have ever met in my goddamn life,” he practically growls as he yanks forcefully on the blanket. A tiny yelp escapes you as you get pulled along with it. 
You underestimated the strength of the star pitcher. 
You end up on top of him. The blanket now an extra cushy barrier between your bodies. In the dim light, your eyes lock, and you can faintly see the outline of a boyish grin on his face. You don’t move away. There’s like an invisible force that keeps you there. Your body pressed against his feeling his warmth tenfold. You can’t tell if either of you are breathing because all you're aware of now is how his heart beats in time with yours. 
“ You’re insufferable you know that?” you swallow hard, your voice lacking its usual bite.
“ You sure about that, sweetheart?” he challenges, his voice barely above a whisper. His lips brushing against yours with feather-light contact.
When had your lips gotten so close? 
You don’t know who leans in first. The one who finally breaks the standoff because your lips seem to meet at the same time. The kiss is sweet, but with a slight hesitance to it. As if neither of you are completely sure the other wants this. Or more like neither of you believes this is happening. However, when his hands grip the back of your thighs, sliding your legs from on top of him to his sides so you straddle him—you believe it. And when your hands find themselves threading in his hair—he believes it. 
One kiss that tests the waters turns into one that slowly sinks into the feeling. Until the two of you fully submerge into the depths of whatever has been simmering between you for what seems like too long. Delicate kisses that get more heated—more intense as your lips continue to meet. Bucky beams at the fact that you’re no longer pushing, but pulling into him. His craving for you only increasing now that he’s had a taste. 
His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, slow and gentle. Asking for permission to deepen the kiss. Bucky Barnes isn’t the type to be slow and gentle—but when it comes to you he finds himself wanting to relish every second he gets. Not knowing when he’ll get another moment like this with you again. 
Your lips part enough for him to slip his tongue in to truly kiss you like he wanted to. As soon as you grant access he takes full opportunity to explore every corner of your mouth. His tongue molding with yours in fervor. Your fingers lightly tug at his hair while his hands roam your body memorizing every curve and dip. Wherever he gripped and caressed, his touch left heat in its wake. 
A heat you had to contain before it consumed you both. 
“ If you think you’re getting lucky tonight—think again. This is the most you’ll get,” You say breathlessly, pulling away to help your lungs remember what oxygen is. 
He groans, breath panting, the outline of his pout evident in the dim light,“ Don’t do this to me, sweetheart. Can’t leave me like this.” His voice a desperate whine that allured you to keep going. 
“ Too bad. You're dreaming if you think this is going any further.” 
“ God, you don’t wanna know what I've dreamed about.” 
“ Shut up,” you cut off his groan with another kiss. Fierce enough to silence him immediately. He hopes you shut him up like this more often. 
Your lips meet again in a hasty lock. No hesitation now as your tongues meet quicker. You seem to be obsessed with his hair as you run your fingers through it again. He shivers at the touch. His hands slide under your sweater to trail along your soft skin. Keeping his hands along your back and waist. Teetering around the boundary you drew, so he didn’t get carried away. But it was hard when kissing you felt as good as throwing the perfect game—maybe even better.
He realizes the emotions you bring out of him are worth a lifetime waiting for.
He pulls away this time to catch his breath, his hands sliding up your body to cup your face,“ I’m in no rush, sweetheart. I’ve got all the time in the world to take it all the way—make you fall for me.” 
You hum, leaning into his touch,“ You seem sure of yourself. ”
His voice is rough yet affectionate when he speaks,“ I’m sure of you, sweetheart. You’re worth every second, and I’m not stopping until you see it too.” 
He gives you one final tender kiss. One that's full of promise for the future. You weren’t sure if it was his words or the meaning in the kiss that stole your breath away. 
After a few seconds, you both pull away. Separating your bodies from each other to provide that much-needed space before lines were crossed.
“ Goodnight, Bucky,” you say, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how you would keep your hands and lips to yourself come tomorrow. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat when you called him by his nickname. Bringing a genuine smile to his face, loving the way it sounded coming from you. 
“ Goodnight, Y/n.”
Even after saying goodnight, the two of you can’t fall asleep immediately. You try to, but there are small moments in the night where you drift back to each other. Where in the darkness your lips meet again and again—satiating the tension in parts. Where your hands find themselves under the covers and layers of clothing. Flaming the fans of desire just enough so it doesn’t completely burn out, but smoldering to be reignited at any moment’s chance. 
You don’t realize when you fall asleep. Your eyelids growing heavy at some point tangled up in his body under the covers. Your face in the crook of his neck. His head resting on top of yours. Your bodies fit like puzzle pieces like they were meant to be connected in every way. 
It’s not until that morning when you wake up and find yourself in his arms, snuggled into his side, that the events of last night sink in. You pull away the tiniest bit. Merely enough to be able to get a look at him. The brown strands of his hair tousled and clinging to his forehead. The slope of his nose, his dark lashes fanned delicately against his skin, and the tiniest parting of his lips. He looks peaceful—almost angelic as he slumbers. 
You’re itching to sketch the image in front of you. 
You can’t stop yourself from reaching out to touch the strands at his forehead. It’s enough to have his eyes flutter open, their color brighter in the daylight. He gives you a lazy smile the instant he realizes last night wasn’t a dream and you really were here, nestled in his arms. 
No words were exchanged, but both of you were conscious of the line you had drawn last night. And yet, you both also knew that in time, that line would be crossed again and again. Until the line blurred into oblivion.
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totally-here · 3 months ago
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dpxdc twins au except it's no-pulse flavored
Bart’s new roommate looks a lot like Tim. 
Like, suspiciously like Tim. 
Danny’s the same height, has the same shape of nose, same shade of hair, and even frowns like him. He would have been a perfect copy if he acted more like Tim, but Danny definitely holds himself looser than Bart’s ever seen Tim. 
But he still has his face. So, obviously, Bart has to investigate. Maybe he’s a clone, or a shapeshifter, or maybe one of the Gotham rogues decided to get facial reconstruction surgery to look like him, and this was all a ploy. 
Okay, probably not that last one. Bart doesn’t think Tim’s enemies know his identity. 
Anyway, investigation! Bart’ll figure this out himself, and deal with it if Danny needs to be dealt with. And the investigation will start right after he comes up with an excuse as to why he’s back in their third floor apartment when he passed Danny in the hallway a few seconds before. 
Danny stares at him, and Bart stares back. 
“Must’ve been a doppelganger!” Bart blurts out. 
Danny’s silent for a second before nodding enthusiastically and noting that everyone's supposed to have like seven in the world anyway and wow what a wild coincidence that there’s one in their building. 
Bart extends the same courtesy when a week later he walks in on Danny with an iced over pan on the stove. Danny says they should really get their freezer checked out and Bart agrees and asks if he can use the ice for a painting study. 
(They never get their freezer checked.)
Bart finds that Danny’s great at setting up fun things for him to draw, whether he knows it or not. Like the ice, or his collection of rocks, his astronomy textbooks with the pretty covers, his gestures as he rants about his classes, the excited glint in his eyes when he’s talking about his next repair project and how his eyes almost look like they glow in the right light. 
Hm. A good portion of his sketchbook is drawings of Danny, and yet he’s still having trouble with getting the right blue for his eyes. At first glance they’re Tim’s shade of blue, but when he keeps looking they seem to get lighter. Maybe greener?
He should probably stop staring into his friend’s eyes. 
Well, maybe not. Danny doesn’t seem to mind. 
Just like he doesn’t mind when they started regularly sitting very close on the couch, or falling asleep together, or Bart borrowing some of his jackets, or-
Okay, Bart’s kinda seeing a pattern. He and Danny should really have a conversation about if this is platonic behavior or not. 
But not right now, because Bart brought Danny across the river to raid Wally’s board game closet in Keystone. 
And Wally, who’s used to this, just passes by them with a, “Hey Bart, hey Tim.”
“Danny, not Tim,” Danny replies almost absent mindedly, then looks back at Wally, who’s also staring at him now. “Wait, you know Tim?”
“OhmyGod I was supposed to investigate!” Bart says, face palming. It just slipped his mind! And Danny was distracting him with his pretty face that he totally wears better than Tim!
“You know him too?” Danny asks. But he doesn’t look suspicious of them, more amused. 
“How do you know him?” Wally squints at Danny, eyes briefly catching Bart’s in question. 
“He’s my twin,” Danny answers easily. “The Drakes only wanted one kid, so they gave me to their friends the Fentons, who wanted a second one.” He shrugs and goes back to digging around the closet. “Tim and I were always in contact, though. Letters and phone calls and texting, you know?” 
He says it all so casually while Wally and Bart are sharing increasingly concerned looks behind his back. 
Do the Waynes know about Danny? Has Tim never brought him up? Why? Does Danny know about Red Robin? Does Tim-
“Holy shit does this mean Tim has ice powers too!?” 
Or: Tim and Danny are twins. Through a series of coincidences, the first people to find out that aren’t Fentons or Drakes are the flashes.
(This post was brought to you by me recently finishing the 1995 Impulse run, and wanting an excuse to share this panel:
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Look they both got called twinks clearly they're soulmates)
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