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halcyone-of-the-sea · 9 months ago

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ICARUS (XI)

NAVIGATION || RAVISHING ALLURE MASTERLIST || NEXT: CHAPTER XII

PAIRING: Nikto x F!Reader (Soulmate AU)

WORDCOUNT: 5.6k

WARNINGS: Angst, threats, exploitation, described stalking behavior, very dark/toxic modeling standards/expectations, explosions, blood, implied harm/injury, death, plot progression, dirty talk, smut/NSFW, dry humping, semi-public intimacy, light dom/sub dynamics, Nikto likes to be given pet-names because I said so, implied previous breath play/cunnilingus/ p-in-v sex/rough sex/finishing inside, clothed stimulation, etc. (Series 18+)

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

“I’m not going to let you do all of it,” you grumble, rubbing at your thigh with your right hand.

“Walk to me,” Nikto’s dark brow raises from below his mask, pale eyes darting you up and down. “Without your knees shaking.”

Your face flares up, and you bite back a sarcastic comment as the driver of the car walks past, sending a glance to where the Russian packs the back of the vehicle with your bags. Nikto huffs a chuckle as another settles into the trunk, flattening it with his gloved hands.

“Rude,” you mutter, glaring lightly. “You’re getting bold with your words, Nikto.”

“Surely we have failed somewhere,” your guard grunts, trying to scrutinize his talent of fucking you senseless last night. “You are still upright instead of collapsed to the floor. Did I not find that spot inside of your drooling cunt that made you say you would not be able to walk—”

“Okay!” You loudly, raising your hands, breathless in reaction. Your entire body is seemingly being rolled on a spit as waves of fire lick at your neck, and you have to force words out from the dryness of your throat. “I’m going to sit in the car—you have fun packing with your dirty mouth, you brute.”

Nikto hums arrogantly, and the smirk is plainly heard by your ears as they ring in embarrassment. “You did not complain about this mouth hours prior. Nor the tongue, Птичка.”

“Holy hell,” you push a hand into your face, grimacing. Brief shadowed flashes of a half-masked face sitting in the clutch of your legs leave you stuttering wildly. “Nikto!”

Taking a large breath before opening the dark door, you hear that loud hyena bark of a laugh in return, before you slip inside and firmly slam the barrier closed.

“Oh my God,” your response bounces off the windows, but the infectious smile grows steadily over your flesh until it needs to be hidden by your hand, tiny chuckles making your eyes crinkle.

Shaking your head, you settle back and grasp the seat belt, clicking the metal together as the straps pull across your chest securely.

You were going back to Yekaterinburg, but the realization was…less than concerning. There was a sort of liberation in your blood now—something to be proud of even if it was such a small thing.

Your eyes glance behind to the rear window, seeing the great form of Nikto continuing to pack the trunk in your absence, back in his regular gear with the suit in the hands of the stylists. You can’t say you didn’t miss it, but having him return to some semblance of normalcy was calming to you. Home was the destination, first and foremost: back to your trinkets and your treasures, fabric, and soft rugs.

You’d stood up to AMA and the jobs they’d assigned to you. No more parties, you’d told Iakov, who you still hadn’t seen a glimpse of since last night. No calls either. He’d never gotten back to you, but you were sure a hellstorm was brewing above your head.

Lips pull slightly, but the thought is pushed to the back of your mind as just a result of hurt pride. He’d survive.

But you weren’t too sure if you would.

“Home,” you sigh, bringing back your smile forcefully. Even with all the added challenges being back in Yekaterinburg would cause, you can’t help the thrill of your heart at the thought of familiar streets and faces. Your mom wanted to talk, and AMA was getting on you about showing up to the building for a meeting, both to-dos were competing like fighting cats.

You still couldn’t tell which was worse.

The trunk behind you is audibly closed with a heavy hand, the metal of the vehicle moving up and down as Nikto stands back to the sidewalk and rolls his wrist—walking to the door before slipping inside next to you. Cushions dipping, you glance over and tilt your head as Nikto’s knee hits yours, the Russian readjusting his thighs before he grumbles under his breath and glances to the window.

“All set?” You ask, putting your hands into your lap as your foot hits the small crossbody bag on the floor. It holds a few simple items to help pass the travel time—your book, laptop, phone, and a few scrap papers for random notes or doodles.

Nikto nods, glancing over to you. “Make sure you do not forget anything.”

You huff. “I’m good. Trust me, it helps to pack light.”

You’re given a slow blink, the man’s eyelids narrowing. He hums.

“You have brought six bags,” Nikto utters gruffly, hearing his frown on the air.

“And you were very gentlemanly loading all of them,” you grin, sending over your amusement-tight skin as the blank mask offers only numb attention. “Very sweet on me, Big Guy.”

Nikto makes an annoyed sound under his breath, rolling his eyes partially. “You would not survive a deployment. Too attached to your items.”

You laugh. “Sue me for buying things I’d like to keep. C’mon,” your attention moves as Nikto gives a sharp order to the driver to leave, which he does with a glance backward and a sneer at your guard. “You’re meaning to tell me you don’t have anything you want to have near you a lot—something important?”

The bear-like man pauses as he settles back into his seat, the vehicle starting up. He takes a breath, and you see the Kevlar of his chest piece rise and fall. Nikto grunts, seeming to realize he’s staring at you as he pulls his eyes to the glass of the window quickly.

“A handful.”

You sigh before it ends in a soft huff. “Any specifics?” Your interest is obvious.

“None we wish to tell about.” He glances, and seeing your teasing stare, he shifts, scoffs under his breath with no real anger, and shrugs his large shoulders before coming up with a simple answer. “My notebook, then.” Nikto’s eyelids lower, thinking back to the item in the back of his consciousness and the importance it holds. You’d only seen it once, he knows—back when he had written you a grocery list for your penthouse. Hell, if only you could take a glance at the contents now.

Nikto clears his throat, continuing in a deeper tone. “Rag to clean my weapons.”

It’s a small chuckle he gets from you. “Makes sense. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them dirty before.”

A steady silence falls before the Russian feels the need to speak again, and in his mind, he replays every word that you’d said to him throughout these fast-paced and eye-opening days. Being near you now was slightly different in a way he couldn’t have anticipated.

Taking in the hues and colors of the city as it goes by swiftly, he frowns and spares you a side-eye as you dig around your bag—seeing your fingers slip out a book and lay it next to you before you flatten out the fabric of your pants. Nikto’s eyes softened gradually, but no one would ever notice unless they knew how to read him as perfectly as a midnight storm: trying to pinpoint where the thunder came from. He clears his throat and blinks, raising a hand to itch at his neck, pushing and pulling at the cover of canvas until his senses level out once more.

He enjoyed last night. Immensely.

In his head, it’s all he can say about it without deeming himself a malleable fool. Some kind-coated idiot who hadn’t seen the betrayal that such a care can bring. Allowing himself to get emotionally involved is a death sentence, and Nikto was always pushing himself to be the perfect image of order. But with you, it was different, or, at least, that was what he told himself. The reminder of your sweat-heavy scent was firm in the back of his nose.

The Russian’s body angles itself, and in a sure movement of his hand, his arm slips across your abdomen and steals the book at your side.

Your attention darts up, your nice shirt pressed right up to your flesh as Nikto’s sturdy arm slides along it like a snake. You mutely watch him, your ribs being rubbed as all at once the man’s roaming grip leaves. Blinking, your heart beats a bit quicker as Nikto brings your book in front of him, tilting his head down to it as you watch.

It was imperative that you remind yourself that having sex with the man didn’t make him yours.

As you watch Nikto’s hidden fingers lightly brush the cover, your eyes follow the way he maneuvers the front to take a glance at the spine, seeing as the dust jacket is gone.

“Crime and Punishment?” The Russian blinks as the car takes a right, slipping along the streets as the houses and buildings start to get more of a distance between them. Nikto looks over at you. “Fyodor Dostoevsky.” He pauses, keeping the book to himself as if trying to understand.

“Aly recommended it,” your face goes heated at the newfound attention on you. “She read it in University.”

“It is good book,” Nikto hums. “Though, I found Notes From Underground more of an interest to me.”

“I’ll have to add it to the list,” you smile softly. “I’ve seen you read a lot when there’s time—do you like it as much as cooking, Nikto?”

That seems to make him think, watching the Russian’s eyebrows pull in minute wonder. You wished you could understand what blue looked like…you were sure his eyes were beautiful. Especially when he was actively attempting to keep the conversation going.

“We have not thought about it much,” he grumbles, flipping your book open to where you had placed a small strip of fabric as a bookmark—Nikto picks the thing up as he speaks. “Both are calming. Good distractions.” He looks at you. “I would not give rank, though there is a time and place for them.”

“Fair,” you breathe, shrugging. You lightly lean into his shoulder, and you hear Nikto grunt as his attention stays like a cat. “But I do have to say I think your cooking might be higher on my personal scale.”

A soft puff of air sneaks out of the mask and Nikto shifts his head down as you elbow the rough material of his gear playfully.

“Добро.” His tone is low, grating as every little ache from last night seems to flare in your muscles. “I…enjoy cooking for you.”

You stare at one another for a moment, getting lost in the intimacy of an open gaze, before you blink quickly and move back, chuckling as your body burns. Like a bird, if you had feathers, they would be puffed up by now.

Nikto watches your fingers fidget in your lap as he twitches his digits against the cover of your book, setting it on his thigh as he spares a look at the driver. The man’s eyes are visible in the mirror, and when they lock, those dark brown orbs dart away as if on fire; blond hair cut close to his scalp.

The ex-soldier watches the back of his head for a few moments, thinking.

Hell, he would be lying by saying that he wasn’t on edge ten times more than he was before. Anyone glancing at you could be the person he’s after—it was maddening to the point of making him obsess over your safety to the tiniest degree.

And yet, there had been no further texted images: no messages or dead birds. No bombs.

Just that one.

‘I know what you did.’

Yes, Nikto thinks, sighing under his breath, you do know. But do you know what we did in that bedroom last night? Why don’t you come and punish me for it? Hm?

“Pathetic,” the Russian whispers to himself, fingering the paper below him until he can peek at the next page to see where you were in the story.

You turn your head from the window, watching gray trees finally begin making a permanent appearance.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” Nikto mutters, attention-catching on that point he’d made to himself. Last night. He backtracks, lowering his voice until it’s only you who can hear—side glaring at the driver like a skittish mutt. “You are...” Pale eyes dig, pulling into a narrowed form as if your mind was the same as the book he holds open. Something to be read. “Adequate?”

Your brows pull in. “Why are we whispering?” You ask, keeping the same tone regardless as you lean closer again; both nearly nose to nose.

Nikto glares, but you can’t see his face beginning to slowly change shade.

“We are asking if you are fit for the long ride.”

He sees your eyes blink slowly. “I’m fine…Why wouldn’t I be?”

The Russian stays silent, openly staring without any discernible emotion in his eyes. You hear him take a breath, glancing once more at the driver, before leaning in further. He huffs sharply.

“Are you alright after what we did—” A kiss is placed on Nikto’s hidden cheek as your laughs echo in his ear.

You lean backward a bit, amusement leaking from you. Sparking eyes meet the ex-soldiers, frozen and taken aback with unmoving eyes.

“I’m just joking, I know what you’re asking me,” you tilt your head, smiling as Nikto’s orbs dip to stare as a swirl of emotions moves in his gut. He swallows, unable to look away. “I’m fine,” you mutter, feelings softening to a bashfulness. “Nothing to worry about…I don’t break easily.”

“Hm,” Nikto’s form returns to where it was previously, and you can tell he’s blushing, even if you can’t see his face or name the shade he would be. Yet, he’s still as blunt as ever as the smirk comes back into his voice. “...Are we sure, Птичка?”

“Bastard,” you huff, motioning with a hand as the Russian almost purrs at the dirty banter. Your finger points to him as you unclick your seatbelt, shifting so you can put your head into his lap similar to how you had on the drive here. Looking up, smug eyes stare down—your finger in his face making him want to grab at it as a dog does fresh meat. He still remembers how your skin tastes; he’s not too far gone to admit he doesn't like how he’s addicted to it.

“You’re getting confident now.”

“We were always confident,” he grates through his accent. “You’ve given us something to battle your need to annoy me with.”

“I like to call it teasing,” you smirk and Nikto’s leather gloves grasp at your neck carefully, making you pause as your eyes widen. Instinctually, you open the skin more to him, head tilting back and legs shifting over the seats to break open before you stop yourself with a small gasp.

Those sand-paper laughs make your thighs close in on themselves as you glare weakly, face lighting up with pure embarrassment as Nikto’s fingers squeeze. You’re ashamed at the pulse of your core. A dog in heat.

There’s a face in your ear.

“One good fuck has you trained, hm?”

“I’ve had better,” you try to hiss, one eye going to the oblivious driver. A second hand moves your book to the floor before it grabs at your thigh, going to pry it open with fat fingers. You strangle a gasp, biting at your lips as you squeak at the sensitivity. “Nikto,” you breathe in warning.

A palm cups your core, and you strangle the limb as the heel is rubbed against your clothed clit. He finds it with no trouble at all: already having you memorized.

You hear Niktto’s heavy breaths—his pulsing grip at your neck as you fight a whimper and your eyes flutter. Your pelvis starts grinding downward in broken stutters, and the Russian leaves his hand there, body completely hanging over you as he stares at the back of the driver's head, wanting to lick the flesh beside your ear, and for the first time, damning his mask.

“Have you, yes?” Nikto wonders, words so steady no one would imagine what was taking place. “Hm. Maybe we will have to leave you alone next time, Little Bird. Get you to find someone else who gets you to scream like I have. Do you remember it?”

Your panties are soaked, and the fluids leak out onto your pants as you continue to rut into Nikto’s gloved palm, back arching over the bulk of his thigh to push your body over his lap, getting a better angle as your guard follows. You listen, and Nikto’s getting harder by how your spine runs its vertebrae over his clothed dick. He jerks once or twice up into it, not above fucking you in front of someone else if this escalates any further. As long as you keep your eyes on him when you cum.

He likes hearing the small noise you make as your orgasm hits.

Nikto breathes, finishing his sentence as you get yourself off to his palm like a good little charge, “How you pleaded for my cum inside of you, Seraph?”

Your cunt flutters, wildly sensitive from last night enough to a point where every grind of your hips felt like Nikto’s cock was still bullying its way in and out of you.

“You cried, yes? As we were bouncing you up and down? How many rounds did that pretty cunt take as you took me so well? Four? Пять? Шесть? Oh, Птичка.” Nikto glances down at your work, smirking as his scars pull tight at the image of the slick over his glove. You were drenched—he almost felt bad. Almost.

“No, we know better than to play with my meal.” He burrows his face into your neck, beginning to let his hand move up and down as your thighs shake, he knows that feeling—that little tell of yours. “No one makes that pussy as wet as I do.”

“Shit,” you whisper, eyes rolling back and your throat tight with the fight between rabid moans and curses. Have to be quiet.

Your flinching eyes worriedly darted to the driver, who still hasn’t looked back at the two of you at all. If anything, the idea of getting caught…well, your hand sneaks down to Nikto’s wrist, pushing him even closer as his smooth chuckles mar your eardrums.

You whine under your breath as you force his palm into you, angling it just right against your clit before your eyes start to roll back in broken increments—lighting making your back arch and toes curl. There are tiny squeaks from the leather seats, but nothing else.

“Good,” Nikto pants, rubbing his erection into your back. “Tell us we are right.”

“You’re right,” you hurriedly whisper to him. “So wet for you, Baby.”

His eyes spark, and he ruts a bit harder, making you stifle a squeak. “Say it again,” he orders, eyes glinting inside of his sockets.

“Baby,” you wince, legs trying to suck in his fingers as your thighs close and rub into them harder. “Nikto, Baby,” your teeth mark your lips heavily.

His shaky breath in your ear accompanies you as your eyes roll back and your spine arches, and, part of a sharp noise exits your mouth as your orgasm hits you, before the hand at your neck sloppily places itself over your drooling lips.

Layers of electricity playing through your weeping cunt, you fight for breath out of your nose as your eyes glaze over, head partially hanging off of Nikto to the seat below as your legs slowly stop their thrusts.

A minute or two passes before your guard leans back, taking his hands off of you and grunting in masochistic pleasure as the ache of his untreated erection still grinds itself into your back slowly—almost torture in the way it keeps him aroused and unable to soften.

Nikto’s grip finds your stomach after he can feel his dick leaking out into his underwear, making a cold mess against his flesh. In a hidden idea, he pushes his hand down into you so he has a better angle to thrust against a firm surface, letting his head connect with the back of the seat as he fucks up into you with his flexing thighs and clenched jaw.

Your eyes pull open to watch him, your mouth half open as your study of his panting chest falls to how you can nearly feel the way his cock drags. He doesn't care at all about anything else about how it feels to get off against you—it’s not as good as finishing inside of your cunt, but he can imagine the warm walls well enough as he begins to make cut-of groans in his chest. Using you like a doll, your wide gaze stays stuck on the sight like glue.

“I am going to fuck you in your bed,” Nikto sighs, only telling himself as he’s still violently aware of the audience he keeps. “Use that penthouse as an excuse to lay you out on every surface. Yes, fuck you good. Keep you and your soft body pleased with every drag of my cock.”

Yet, he’s less concerned with the driver’s eyes now that you’ve cum in his hand—his sex appetite is strong, just as his regular one is; embarrassment is a myth to him regarding it. How many times had he resorted to locking himself in a bathroom when he was in the military, just to jerk off while watching in the mirror as thick ropes of cum splattered his chest? How many sneaked sessions in his barracks until his eyes would roll back, and he had to grind into a pillow with the cold stains of previous loads making him moan?

As long as he could see your eyes looking into him, he could bust just by a touch at his crotch.

Nikto strangles a low groan, shudders violently, and then his thighs stop—sag, and he pants, going limp against the seat. The spurts of his orgasm leaves wet patches in his pants, and he can imagine it pooling, instead, out of your pussy as it should be.

The both of you lay in the sopping remnants of your insatiable lust, leaking out to one another, and only think about what you both can have once you’re back in Yekaterinburg and alone.

Maybe there won’t be a meeting with AMA or my mom, you think as Nikto rubs a thumb down your cheek—letting your eyes slip shut softly as your nostrils flare with every breath. He hums in satisfaction, petting your thigh as he massages your inner leg.

Maybe we’ll fuck so much we’ll end up forgetting our names instead.

Hell, it didn’t sound like a bad idea at all.

—

Halfway through Nikto’s audible reading of Crime and Punishment—in which he sometimes lapsed into Russian rambles in the middle of a sentence—you shift against the seat and mutter out a question.

“So, he’s going to try to get away with murder?”

Nikto pauses in his speaking, looking over from the page as his mask shines into the light. It’s a little past noon if you had to guess. “Да.” Nikto’s brows furrow. “We are four chapters in—have you just noticed?”

“You’ve been speaking in Russian for the last fifteen minutes.”

Nikto curses under his breath, glaring at you incredulously after he closes the book with a single hand. “Why did you not say?”

You smile slowly. “It sounded nice?”

The man sighs out loud, bringing up a hand to push into the plate at his nose in a funny display of exasperation. A laugh makes its way out of your mouth, and you shake your head.

“It’s alright—I don’t mind. I just like listening to your voice.”

“Hm,” Nikto looks at you, huffing, but you can tell he takes it to heart by the way his shoulders sag a small bit. “You are strange, Woman.”

“As I’ve been told,” you breathe, chuckling. “You’ll re-read it to me later?”

The Russian’s head tilts to the side. “In русский or English?”

Your eyes glint, your smirk rising, and you let the question sit in the air until Nikto’s eyes pull in understanding the longer you stare at him.

He hums deep in his breast, gaze molten heat.

“Русский, then. Да, I will not complain if you enjoy it, Птичка.”

You call out breathily as you stare into his eyes, “Thank you, Baby.”

Nikto’s spine goes rigid, and before you can snort you slap a hand to your mouth and level your head to the window, body shaking with muffled laughter.

“Нелепый,” the man growls out, pushing at the fabric of his crotch and shifting his abdomen as your loud snort slips out. “You are much too confident in your abilities now—”

The car begins to shake and the driver curses out loud.

Immediately, all teasing is cut like a blade as Nikto’s eyes slash forward: slitted.

Both of your attention is locked onto the driver as he snaps in Russian, banging a hand to the wheel as your body pauses.

“Nikto?” You ask the question under your breath.

Your guard slips forward in his seat, grasping the back of the driver’s seat and growling out a low question in his native tongue. He only looks over his shoulder to you after a long and heated discussion.

“He says the vehicle is not acting correctly.”

“Not acting correctly?” Your face pulls, form getting more rigid as the car veers off the main road to the side, grumbling like an animal as the hood shakes. “Why? How? It was working just fine yesterday.”

“I do not know,” Nikto utters, eyes narrowing. He glances at you, tension growing in his spine. “Keep near us. Do not leave my sight.”

“Right,” you nod, ears twitching as the driver parks the car and gets out in a huff, barking expletives and waving his hands. A sliver of nervousness slips into your blood.

Nikto has a bad feeling.

The hair on the back of his neck stands up as he pops the door open, hearing his boots hit the asphalt as he breathes out. Standing to his full height, he keeps the fuming driver in the corner of his pale vision, holding the barrier open for you and keeping you from the mostly vacant road as a car passes quickly.

“Slowly,” Nikto mutters, grabbing at your arm to make sure your lack of coordination didn’t send you to an early death.

You give him a small smile, and he stares for longer than he should before the Russian blinks, holding you away from open traffic—his body keeps itself nearest to the road as you both move to the hood.

“That can’t be good,” you murmur with a raised brow as the driver smacks the vehicle, waving his hand in front of his face as a thin tendril of dark smoke mists through the air like a grim cloud.

“No,” Nikto stares, his fingers sliding along the fabric of your shirt—curling just at the small of your back. “It can not.” His unimpressed voice carries over the area as another car passes.

You stare lightly after, knowing it’s the second vehicle that belongs to AMA just by the make and model; especially by the license plate. It carries a number of personnel—most likely Iakov, your stylists, and a photographer or two. The car sees that you’re stopped, slows, and also pulls off the road a large distance ahead.

“At least we’ll have another ride if this can’t be fixed,” you comment as you and your guard join the driver, Nikto grunting in Russian with an order to stop denting the car’s frame. A sigh slips your lips and you stretch carefully—raising your arms above your head and hearing your bones cracking. “Won’t be stranded,” you end in a strained voice before you sigh in relief and relax.

As Nikto and the driver descend into clipped words, your phone rings from inside the vehicle. Blinking, your body is quick to shuffle the way back and snatch the thing out, retreating to the grass to the right of the scene and a small way away—it’s still easy to see how Nikto keeps an eye on you, however.

With his comment yesterday about a new picture from the stalker, you weren’t keen on being away from him either. The thought makes your skin crawl, but you know you’re better off never seeing whatever the contents had been…you’d already seen enough of that freak’s ‘pictures’ to last a lifetime.

Answering the call, you push the phone to your ear. “Seraph,” you say, half-facing the road and half to the tree line. Your drive back home had barely started—already you’d run into trouble? These last few months were continually stacking on top of one another for the top ten worst moments in your life.

Galina’s voice pushes through.

“Where are you currently?”

Your face loosens, brows twisting. “Driving back to Yekaterinburg now, we just ran into some car trouble,” you pause, seeing Nikto going to open the hood but being stopped by the driver, who seems to think he can do it himself without any help at all. “...Is there something going on?”

Nikto only breaks away in attention to look over to you every so often, his fingers twitching and shoulders wound up under all that gear.

Why is he so tense? You have to ask yourself in curiosity before your guard’s head snaps to where others from the second car spill out, beginning walking to you three—coming to help like little trees down the line of asphalt.

Running your free hand over the back of your skull, as always, Nikto’s nervousness makes you tense; especially when he shifts his hand to brush his beretta like that. That dark void of a mask is permanently stuck giving you half of a glare, and you can perfectly imagine his jaw clenching.

But everybody here was trustworthy, weren’t they?

Iavov’s shorter stature makes its way forward quicker than the others, calling out words that you can’t hear. He holds something in his hands, and it glints in the light.

Galina spares no chance to breathe between rapid clipped sentences.

“Sergi has had to be released from custody—Yaromir and I have little concern he was involved in anything that resulted in harm to another. We can not keep him.” You had expected that; it wasn’t surprising. “But he mentioned something that I believe you should know before you return.”

“What is it?” Your voice is low, concerned as Iakov and the rest raise their words. Nikto barks at them in Russian to stay where they are as his eyes glint dangerously for no discernible reason. The driver shifts his fingers away from the hood as you begin shuffling closer as well, spine straight with tension.

The air was alive with a cord ready to snap.

“He mentioned something about knowing a man who works at Allurement in an off comment when he didn’t realize he was being recorded.”

Your feet speed up to the car almost instinctively.

“Who?”

“We were unable to push for a name. Sergi got far too nervous and shut down on us; there was little left to do. But there’s another thing.”

Heart pattering, you call to Nikto stiffly, seeing him only hold a hand out to tell you to not come any closer. You frown, disregarding the concern, and are now about five feet away from the car and eager to figure out what’s wrong with it so you can leave—you feel eyes on you, and in a paranoid moment, your vision darts to the approaching group of six. Closer now.

“Seraph,” Nikto grinds out. “Stay there. There is something that we do not like about—”

Galina’s continued explanation interrupts your Russian just as the driver gets the hood finally open with a loud call of victory. You blink, your fingers over the phone gripping the device like a woman strangling a knife while facing a home intruder.

“Sergi was spotted disposing of multiple cameras by way of selling them off to anyone who would take them all over the city. We’re trying to track down the buyers, but we don’t believe the cameras were his to begin with. He’s hiding evidence for someone.”

There’s a bright spark that makes your eyes flinch shut like you’d been staring into the sun. Head snapping to the side, you cover your face with a heavy hiss as you halt in your tracks, stepping back as Nikto’s loud voice carries.

“Seraph!” You startle, legs dragging across the ground. “Get down! Немедленно!”

“—There is reason to believe that Sergi has a close connection and a willingness to protect whoever is behind these events. Perhaps even the evidence from the explosion at the bakery was tampered with—”

The car bursts into an inferno just as Nikto’s body connects with yours.

Meeting the ground hard, the man rolls along with you as the air is snatched from your lungs and skin whipped by fire—the sound of screeching metal so loud that the resounding ringing in your ears is immediate as debris whizzes past your head.

In the exit of all air from your lungs, your phone is lost as you gasp sharply.

There’s a sting of pain across your face—in your arm as well as Nikto drapes himself over you with a firm bark of a gut-twisting curse, gripping and dragging you until you’re stapled to his chest.

Far above, the screaming and the sizzle of flesh all melt together into the image of a gray sun. Smoke wafts away on a slow breeze, and the body of a panting man above you is voided until null even as hands pull you from him to stare down at you—at the crimson blood that he can see in such vivid detail.

There’s only the sensation of him calling your name frantically before it all gets sucked into oblivion around pale, horribly panicked eyes.

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@anna-banana27, @random-thot-generator, @midwesternwitchery, @pumpkinwitchcrusade, @halfmoth-halfman, @alpineswinter, @blingblong55, @cryingnotcrying, @lxne20, @not-eclipse, @theecoffeebean, @phoenixhalliwell, @h3ll-guttz, @tiinkerbell, @genjilvr, @azush4rp, @escapefromrealitysm, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @finnigansxz, @cowboybaby2, @delaynew, @doggydale, @zapphir, @littlemisstrouble, @xxtmoe, @grizzersmamma, @andreas-river, @blogdddxx, @jade-jax, @emthegrace, @lovebugmsyd, @makariaspresence, @noisyprofessorhoundsalad-blog, @scythebot, @blueoorchid, @kra-rino4ka, @caramlizedtomatoes, @strawberymilk,@frazie99, @homicidal-slvt, @develised, @crispyhusband, @cathnoneofyourbusiness, @ghostslittlegf, @generalcloudtraveler, @azsteris, @rvjaa, @creminemisinthehizzyforshizzboy, @comsyki

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haikyu-mp4 · 3 months ago

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I want to note that I don't condone Terushima's behaviour around Kiyoko in the series, but everyone has the potential for character development. this is an idea I had for a while but haven't felt motivated enough to start writing<3

Terushima Yuji is an apprentice hair stylist who mostly cleans up hair off the floor and does less-risk haircuts. He works in the hair salon where you, a rich, young woman, come in regularly to get a blowout and have your nails polished.

Terushima used to be quite confident in his tall, lean stature in high school and would use it to his advantage when approaching girls, but now he sought your approval desperately. He wanted you to notice him and to get you whatever you needed. For you to step on him if there was a puddle in the way of your pristine high heels. Never before has a strong woman been so attractive to him.

One day there was a late notice of more hair stylists being sick or busy, so one of the permanent stylists somewhat anxiously tells Terushima that he can totally handle this regular client because it’s just a basic blowout and that he has some creativity when styling it, which is his strong suit anyway.

He bravely takes on the challenge, and even though you're busy checking e-mails on your phone with your pretty nails clacking against the screen, he starts up some conversation and manages to catch your attention. Next time you come in, you request him specifically.

You’re a young CEO and had to take over for your late father much earlier than you should have had to. Definitely thrown into the adult world too quickly to enjoy your twenties in any meaningful way so far.

Maybe you need someone like Terushima to show you what having fun means.

#drabble-mp4 #haikyu #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #fanfiction #haikyuu x you #hq #haikyuu fluff #haikyu fluff #terushima #terushima yuuji #terushima x reader #haikyuu terushima #terushima yūji

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quasimaddi · 1 year ago

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Some studies when I was watching BCS for the first time. I really enjoy getting a good likeness, not just because it helps with recognizability of the fanart but also because it's a really fun challenge. Some tips on how I approach this:

You can see how I work through Kim and Jimmy's faces here: First I trace directly over screencaps from the show, focusing on marking the distance of each feature and its placement on their head shapes. How close is the brow to the eye, nose from the middle of the mouth, etc.

After tracing it out, I do some freehand sketches relying more on the shapes and proportions I've mapped out. The little arrows I've drawn next to some of the faces help me remember to keep note of the way certain lines or shapes curve into others. These are great things to exaggerate, because when you keep these things accurate and intact, the illusion of likeness comes through.

Whether you actively recognize it or not, your brain is always making connections to the negative space relationships between features almost as much as the shapes and positions of the features themselves.

Another thing I like to do is collect much more detailed, organized reference of the character I'm drawing and figure out the harmonies of the face. This is kind of a bastardized and oversimplified Reilly method, where I'll draw straight lines connecting each feature of the face to build landmarks. You can see me working though that here, with Barry.

I started figuring out his head shape, but I also found that the midpoint of his furrowed brow creates a triangle shape with the shape of his nose down to the edges of his mouth. Keeping this shape consistent, even in simplified/stylistic depictions of the character, means he will always be a little recognizable, because the part of your brain that knows what Barry looks like connects with that existing shape.

Playing with those abstractions can help you experiment with how you want a character to look. Don't worry if they don't look perfect. That's the fun of study. Here are a handful of Kimmies, each varying in % of likeness (and degrees of success), but all keeping some key points of her "design". You can see where I start to play with features, removing some things, tinkering with others.

Another little note...since we view these people through cameras, different focal lengths can affect the way their features are proportioned (take a look at the perceived width and height of Hader's enormous fucking head in the upper right corner compared to the adjacent images, for example)–– so this is a good way to keep that in check when you're doing studies. As always, this isn't drawing law. Draw fanart however you please, and feel free to discard all of this information! This is simply my approach, and it is fun for ME!

Thanks for reading.

This post brought to you by my Patrons, who saw this first on July 4 2023.

#bcs #fanart #art tips #barry hbo

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blarefordaglare · 4 months ago

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Fan Joy July day 27/29

This one’s by @themortaldraw

link: https://www.tumblr.com/themortaldraw/755921302191210496/fun-fact-there-are-four-turnips-in-the-would?source=share

I had to write about this! Originally TUMBLR DECIDED TO UNSAVE THE ENTIRE ONESHOT This comic is absolutely adorable and I feel four on not standing the heat. I hope you enjoy this fic!

also this was supposed to be finished TWO DAYS AGO :( I’m so sorry for the wait but we’re gonna finish this challenge STRONG!!

___

Four was, for lack of better vocabulary, burning.

Sweat pooled on his face before dripping down his cheeks, flushed with the heat. His face and hands felt swollen, and the long sleeves of his tunic didn’t help, sticking to his hot skin.

“It’s so hot…” he whined to himself, tying his bangs -once a stylistic choice that he paid no mind to, now turned an inconvenience at best- up. The hair, warm and damp with heat, stuck up slightly due to the position.

The smith’s mind quickly sharpened as he heard rustling from the bushes. His feet quickly twisted around, making sure there wasn’t any threat near. His eyes landed on a fellow “Link” to the chain. The rancher’s face was a mix of discomfort from the beating sun, but also a hint of… amusement? Four could sense those eyes gazing at his hair.

“Have something to say, Twilight?” He made sure to over enunciate the ‘t’ at the end, the small jet of air blowing out of his mouth, “anything at all?” His knees locked, waiting for a response.

“Nope-“ the hero quickly blurted out, turning away in embarrassment of being caught, “Absolutely not.” Twilight squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to get the intrusive thought of the resemblance out of his head. Curse his knowledge on turnips, but he did look like one. He was supposed to be supportive on all choices, but he never expected his own brother to resemble a vegetable.

Twilight would have to make sure they weren’t eating turnip soup tonight.

#lu four #lu twilight #havent made a four centric fic in a while #I MUST MAKE ONE NOW HAHAHHAHAHAHHAHA #And luckily I did #Once again I’m sorry that this is so late!!

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pixelnrd · 3 months ago

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your australian history inspired decades challenge sounds so fascinating!!! will you be sharing it with us, or will it be for yourself? either way i hope you have fun with it!

I have plans to share it! I’m really excited about it too because Australia and Australian history is largely ignored by the rest of the world and I want to use my platform to share something personal to me.

But a few things will need to happen before then… for one, I’m going get a new computer after the Langstons are done so I can have a healthier experience playing. I’m also going to try and really separate what I have done stylistically with the Langstons from a future project, so I’m talking a new storytelling format, new imagery, new reshade aesthetic etc. which I am working on.

I’m also still working on my research to make sure I get the sensitive aspects of the history right. I’d hate to fuck it up and cause any offence, especially as I try to respectfully navigate some of the awful parts of Australian history.

Anyway I’m really glad there is interest in my little fledgling baby project, thank you!! 💘

#asks

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shixcherie · 14 days ago

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Mutal Midnight Madness | Choi San, Jung Wooyoung, Kang Yeosang ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆Day 23 : Phone Sex

↬ [ Synopsis ] : After a hectic day at work, you decide to hop on a video call with your boyfriends, Yeosang, Wooyoung, and San. A special gift from San becomes your source of joy, while the boys keep you entertained all night.

☆Word Count : 2.9k ☆Genre : Smut, Idol-Au, Crack. ☆Pairing : Idol! Wooyoung x Idol! San x Idol! Yeosang x Stylist! F.Reader

☆☆☆WARNINGS : mdni!, pure Smut (18+), y/n was a stylist for the boys, menace WooSanSang, flirty texts on crack (ss inside for u my loves! 😉 ), use of sex toys (vibrator), phone sex, boys are busy with their “It’s You” mv while y/n is in Italy for her fashion show, lots of riling up, hella suggestive, edging, praise, petnames (cutie, kitten, baby, babygirl )

NOTE : Day 23 with my boys WooSanSang for you all. I am grinding hard to catch up because I was busy with exams so now I am working hard to finish this kinktober on time.

Hope y’all enjoy this piece, I loved writing it so much. I loved writing those flirty msgs on crack so have fun (ss are there waiting for you). Hope you enjoy and show some love to this ma cheries , I have tried something different.

"Let us take care of you, babygirl," Yeosang and Wooyoung assured you as they watched through the screen. The vibrator, San's gift, took you to peaks of pleasure, their names falling from your lips like a prayer, while San's intense eyes never left your beautiful frame.

But how did the midnight madness begin ? Let's rewind a bit.

“Y/n, how is the collection coming together ?” your collection director Amanda, asked as you diligently worked on your first clothing collection, set to be presented at Milan Fashion Week. After working as a stylist for four years, you were finally getting the chance to release your own collection.

“Yeah, it’s coming together really well.” you replied to Amanda, just as your phone pinged with a notification. You quickly turned it off.

“I’m already halfway done with the collection, Amanda. Just a few more pieces and some accessories I have planned. Once those are designed, I’ll be completely finished,” you continued, a satisfied smile spreading across Amanda’s face as she admired your work.

She noted the intricate details you’d incorporated, impressed by how you’d pulled inspiration from fantasy elements while still keeping the pieces wearable—a challenge you had tackled successfully.

“Really amazing work, Y/n. The collection truly feels like one cohesive piece, with different moving parts that all contribute to the main message, pulling it together beautifully.” she complimented you as your phone pinged again. You let out a nervous chuckle, quickly turning it off once more.

“Thank you so much, Amanda. I really hope this collection makes an impact on the Milan runway,” you replied, hoping it would be your big break into the glamorous world of fashion. Another ping.

“I’m sure it will. This might be the star collection of the season, given how diverse it is. It will definitely appeal to a wide audience.” she said. Your phone pinged yet again. “Y/n… that sounds like an important message. Why don’t you check it?” she urged.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing, Amanda. Just a few friends from Korea. You remember when I worked as a stylist there? It’s just them,” you replied, carefully hiding the fact that these friends were actually members of a famous boyband called Ateez.

“Ahh… I do remember. Anyway, I won’t take up more of your time. Good luck hun,” Amanda said before leaving the room. You took a deep breath, only to be startled by another ping on your phone.

A year ago, you had worked as a stylist for KQ Entertainment. Specifically, you were responsible for styling Wooyoung and San. With your social personality, you quickly became close friends with them—they enjoyed your company and admired the outfits you put together for them. Yeosang also became your responsibility to style when his stylist suddenly quit, and that’s where this beautiful, messy journey began: feelings, sneaky one-night stands, and a secret relationship that followed you to Milan. You quit your job as a stylist after a few months when an incredible opportunity arose to work on your own collection under Amanda. Leaving Korea, you moved to Italy but kept in touch with the boys, bound by the fun evenings and party-filled nights you had shared with them.

Finally, you opened the message that had your phone buzzing nonstop. Your eyes lit up at the notifications from your favorite group chat with the boys: Sinners Squad (you all thought the name was kind of silly, but it definitely fit whatever the four of you had going on, so you decided to keep it).

After a hectic evening, you finally returned home, eager for your video call with the boys. You missed them so much, and knowing they were busy shooting the “It’s You” music video only made you crave their presence more. The fact that they still made time for you, despite their hectic schedules, sent a rush of warmth through you.

What started as a no-strings-attached arrangement quickly spiraled into something thrilling. Playful flirting and heated exchanges deepened your bond, and memories of sneaky one-night stands ignited delicious tension between you. Their teasing words dripped with double meanings, leaving you breathless and craving more.

You all respected each other's craft, but the undeniable chemistry kept you longing for those stolen moments together. Their virtual support was laced with flirtation, and you often found yourself blushing at their suggestive comments, knowing this connection was anything but ordinary.

Now, their support came through sultry phone calls and steamy video chats, with each word of affirmation only intensifying the longing you felt for them. The group chat buzzed with playful banter, flirty remarks, and a few cheeky emojis that left you blushing, reminding you of the passionate yet playful connection you all shared.

Finishing your dinner, you freshened up, changing into your night clothes just as your phone lit up. A video call from the boys. Smiling, you picked up the call to find Yeosang’s beautiful, makeup-free face greeting you with a huge smile. In the background, you could hear Wooyoung yelling at Yeosang to stop showing him while he struggled to pull on his pants.

What the heck are you doing, Woo ?

Wooyoung finally managed to pull on his pants, his mischievous grin returning. "Okay okay…I’m decent now. But can you blame me ? This is a very important video call."

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Important, huh ? What are you guys planning ? " as you wiggled your eyebrows at them.

Laughing at your antics, Yeosang leaned closer to the camera, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yeah, Wooyoung, spill it! Are you going to suggest something scandalous ?"

Just then, San entered the frame, balancing a tray piled high with midnight snacks. “I brought snacks! I figured you guys could use some fuel for whatever trouble Woo was planning.”

“Perfect timing, San!” Wooyoung exclaimed, leaning back in his chair. “We were just about to decide how to spice up this call.”

“Oh really ?” you teased, leaning closer to your camera. “And what did you have in mind?”

Wooyoung’s grin widened. “How about a little game ? I dare you to tell us your wildest fashion story, and we’ll share ours too. Loser has to do a forfeit. Maybe a little strip tease for the camera ?” His challenge was way exciting to say no to do. Nodding you head, you wondered what you could share that will excite them.

You laughed, feeling your cheeks heat up as a few stories swirled in your mind. “You really think I’d lose to you guys?” You shot back at them as Yeosang’s grin widened at you confidence.

San set the snacks down, a playful glint in his eye. “If you think you can handle the competition, then bring it on kitten!” He paused to wink at you before a mischievous smile dawned his face, “But just so you know, I’m pretty good at this.”

Yeosang chimed in, teasingly, “Just remember, Y/n, we have experience in the wild department. Are you ready to lose cutie ?” You chuckled but did not back down from the fun as a long night of spicy and fun conversations awaited you.

“Game on, boys.” you said, feeling the adrenaline rush as you prepared to share your wildest story. “But just so you know, I’m not going down without a fight.”

Wooyoung chuckled, leaning forward,eyes shining with mischief. “I like a girl who’s confident. This is going to be fun, baby.”

Everyone chuckled at his excitement while you set the phone on the bed in a way that they could get a full body view of you while they adjusted their phone to make it a hands free experience.

Wooyoung finally managed to pull on his pants, his mischievous grin returning. "Okay, okay... I’m decent now. But can you blame me? This is a very important video call."

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Important, huh? What are you guys planning?" You wiggled your eyebrows at them.

Laughing at your antics, Yeosang leaned closer to the camera, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yeah, Wooyoung, spill it! Are you going to suggest something scandalous?"

Just then, San entered the frame, balancing a tray piled high with midnight snacks. “I brought snacks! Figured you guys could use some fuel for whatever trouble Woo was planning.”

“Perfect timing, San!” Wooyoung exclaimed, leaning back in his chair. “We were just about to decide how to spice up this call.”

“Oh really?” you teased, leaning closer to your camera. “And what did you have in mind?”

Wooyoung’s grin widened. “How about a little game? I dare you to tell us your wildest fashion story, and we’ll share ours too. Loser has to do a forfeit. Maybe a little strip tease for the camera?” His challenge was way too exciting to say no to. Nodding your head, you wondered what story you could share that would excite them.

You laughed, feeling your cheeks heat up as a few stories swirled in your mind. “You really think I’d lose to you guys ?” you shot back as Yeosang’s grin widened at your confidence.

San set the snacks down, a playful glint in his eye. “If you think you can handle the competition, then bring it on, kitten!” He paused to wink at you before a mischievous smile crossed his face. “But just so you know, I’m pretty good at this.”

Yeosang chimed in, teasingly, “Just remember, Y/n, we have experience in the wild department. Are you ready to lose, cutie?” You chuckled but didn’t back down from the fun, as a long night of spicy and entertaining conversation awaited.

“Game on, boys,” you said, feeling the adrenaline rush as you prepared to share your wildest story. “But just so you know, I’m not going down without a fight.”

Wooyoung chuckled, leaning forward, his eyes shining with mischief. “I like a girl who’s confident. This is going to be fun, baby.”

Everyone laughed at his excitement while you set the phone on the bed, angling it to give them a full view of you, as they adjusted their phones to make it a hands-free experience.

“Alright, let’s get this game started!” Wooyoung declared, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Y/n, you’re up first. Share your wildest fashion story, and remember, it better be juicy.”

You took a deep breath, feeling heat flood your cheeks. “Okay, okay. So, there was this one time at a fashion show—”

Before you could finish, San interrupted, a playful smirk dancing on his face. “Wait, Y/n. If we’re going to share stories, let’s do it properly. You know, since we’re all friends here…” He leaned closer to the camera, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “I brought something special for tonight.”

Curiosity sparked within you. “Oh ? Okay, San… what have you planned for me?”

He leaned back, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I may have sent you that toy you mentioned wanting to try out. Thought it could help you with your story, kitten.”

Yeosang’s eyes widened in playful delight. “You did what? Now I’m curious! You have to show us, Y/n!”

Wooyoung chuckled, “I knew I liked San for a reason. This just got a whole lot more interesting.” He leaned closer, his voice teasingly low. “Now, how about you give us a little demonstration while you share your story?”

You felt a rush of excitement course through you. “Alright, but you boys better be ready to share something too.” You had already opened the toy that San had sent earlier and were wondering when you’d get a chance to use it.

Guess the perfect opportunity just struck.

As you reached for the toy, Wooyoung licked his lips in anticipation. “Oh, we’re ready. Just make sure you keep your voice down so the hotel staff doesn’t come knocking.”

You smiled coyly, bringing the toy into view. “Just guide me through this, and I promise I’ll keep it interesting.”

“Okay, here’s the plan,” San said, his tone playful yet filled with a hint of seduction as he rubbed his hands. “While you pleasure yourself, we’ll each take turns describing what we’d do to you if we were there.”

“Sounds like a fair deal,” Yeosang added, leaning forward, his voice dripping with flirtation. “I can’t wait to hear what you think about my ideas.”

This whole setup was perfect, given how much you missed them. They could almost feel like they were right beside you. Wow! Why have we never tried this before, you thought as Wooyoung’s voice pulled you back to reality.

Wooyoung spoke, his tone low and inviting, beginning the chain of wild imaginations. “I’d love to start. Just imagine, Y/n. If I was there, I’d slowly push your legs apart, whispering in your ear how beautiful you look, how good you’d feel with my hands exploring every inch of you as you touch yourself.”

San’s eyes glinted with mischief as he joined in. “But don’t forget, Woo. I’d be right there, teasing you about how good you look in those cute pajamas while I watched you pleasure yourself. I’d want to hear every little sound you make as you feel that toy inside you.”

A soft gasp escaped your lips as you turned on the toy, the vibrations sending shivers of delight through your body. You could feel the warmth radiating from the three boys on the screen, their eyes filled with hunger as they watched you.

Yeosang smirked, leaning back slightly, his voice sultry and low. “Just think, Y/n. If we were all together, I’d take my time, tracing my fingers down your thighs while you touched yourself. I’d make you squirm, teasing you until you begged for more.”

Wooyoung leaned closer, his voice a seductive whisper. “That’s right, Y/n. Let us guide you through every part while we pleasure ourselves, too. Just picture us, all together, lost in this moment, completely focused on you.”

You could feel your pulse quickening, the toy’s vibrations mixing with their seductive words, stirring a delicious heat in your core. “I can definitely get used to this.” you said, a sultry smile dancing on your lips.

“Good, because we’re not done yet,” San teased, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Keep going, Y/n. We want to hear every sound, see every expression.”

With every twist of the toy and every word that escaped your lips, you felt the tension building within you. “Oh, you’re going to have to do better than that.” you challenged, your voice dripping with playful defiance.

Wooyoung laughed, his gaze intense. “Alright, Y/n, I’m just getting warmed up. Picture this: I’m right there, kissing up your body, my lips trailing along your neck while you get lost in your pleasure. I want to hear how much you crave it.”

San added, his voice a mix of urgency and teasing, “And I’d make sure you’re completely filled with pleasure, using that toy just like I would with my fingers plunged inside your dripping cunt, pushing you closer to the edge with a relentless pace until you can’t take it anymore.”

You moaned softly, the vibrations from the toy syncing perfectly with their words, urging you closer to ecstasy. “You guys are killing me.” you breathed, biting your lip.

Yeosang’s voice was low and coaxing, “Let go, Y/n. Come for us, baby. Just let the pleasure wash over you. We’re here, we’re watching, and we want you to enjoy every second.”

With a shaky breath, you continued, their voices guiding you deeper into your pleasure. “I can feel it building, guys… I’m so close.” Your hand gripped the sheets as the toy’s vibrations drew soft, pleasurable moans from you. The boys on the other side of the screen, watching your delicious movements with intense gazes, was the cherry on top.

“Amazing,” Wooyoung said, his voice thick with desire. “Now picture all three of us surrounding you, our lips worshipping your neck, your juicy breasts, and silky smooth thighs, our fingers taking turns entering and leaving your sweet cunt, making you feel so good you can’t help but scream our names.”

San chimed in, his words a seductive whisper. “We want to hear you fall apart, kitten. Don’t hold back. Let us feel how much you want us.”

The heat coiling in your belly reached its peak, and you felt yourself just on the edge. “I… I can’t hold on much longer!” you gasped.

“Then don’t.” Yeosang encouraged, his tone coaxing and smooth. “Let it all go, Y/n. We’re right here with you.”

With their voices urging you on, you let the waves of pleasure crash over you, your body responding to every command they gave. “Oh my god!” you cried out, surrendering to the ecstasy that consumed you, the toy helping you ride the high as you came all over your white sheets.

As you rode the wave of your climax, the boys cheered you on, their laughter and encouragement filling the room with warmth and joy.

Finally, as you came down from the high, your breaths came in shaky gasps, your heart racing as you basked in the afterglow of the experience. You looked at the screen, finding them all grinning, eyes bright with mischief and admiration.

“That was something else. Do you want us to send more of those toys, babygirl ?” Wooyoung asked, his expression a mix of satisfaction and playful intrigue, curious about your preferences now after trying the toy for the first time.

“I’d rather have you guys here instead of the toy, but wow, that was an amazing experience.” you replied, not quite ready to replace them with the toy just yet.

San nodded, smirking. “Just wait until we’re all together again, kitten.”

Yeosang added, his eyes sparkling. “Let’s just say, this mutual midnight madness is only the beginning.”

“Yeah! But I’m not against the idea of trying more toys if you want to watch me. So, keep them coming,” you teased before heading to the washroom to clean up, as the boys also hung up to clean themselves as Wooyoung had clearly made a mess of himself watching you pleasure yourself.

After this ecstatic call, your body craved more and more of these midnight moments as you got ready to sleep, bracing for a hectic workday tomorrow.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

Disclaimer : This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

Tag List : @star-my | @pixie0627 | @astuteataraxy

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pigeonpeach · 11 months ago

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Be my muse

Chiori x fem oni reader

Summary: Chiori is trying to court her big oni friend but they’re too insecure to realize it.

A/n: I’ll be doing more fem oni x character series simply because its fun. But if there’s a certain character you’d like then let me know

“Hmm… maybe this blue would match your horns better.” Chiori, the renowned stylist in Inazuma had you stood on a pedestal standing straight as she threw at you a variety of kimonos and yukatas to wear. As a blue oni you weren’t accustomed to human society to well. Fashion isn’t really a big deal to Oni kind.. like at all… in fact most oni’s only wear thick and concealing garments in the winter. Most walk around with their chests exposed. As a blue oni you were also used to the scrutiny that you faced. Being considered a monster, a demon. All sorts of names.

Yet when you ran into Chiori one day while you were collecting lavender melons she seemed not to even consider you any different to herself. Even if you did tower over her, she showed zero fear. You couldn’t help but admire her as she would visit your hut in the wilderness on Narukami Island frequently. She was curious about your culture and your family but also your style. Turns out she HATED your pratical and unfashionable wardrobe and sought to make something better. According to her it is a crime that you decorate yourself with such hideous clothes. You foolishly challenged her to make something better than.

That’s thing about Chiori, she loves a challenge. Chiori loves to go outside the normal kimono patterns and flowing fabrics. She loves to experiment and draw inspiration from all over teyvat. So when you challenged her to make a outfit suited both for the life of a mercenary and a oni that still fits her stands of beautiful she saw a golden opportunity. You didn’t even have to pay a cent, but you did become her mannequin for the next few months.

“Look, Chiori I didn’t think you would take that joke so seriously.” You said as she placed yet another mock up on you. “I’m worried… shouldn’t you be making prettier dresses for your store?”

“You know its not like I’m wasting time. I’m still balancing my normal workload. Infact this is good because the more variety I can have the more attention I’ll bring.” She responds, not even looking up as she sews a piece to the slev

“I don’t think people look at mercenaries and wonder where they got their clothes.”

“They would if more mercenaries didn’t dress so hideously.” She remarks.

“Well..-“

“Don’t give me that practicality argument I’ve hear it all before. I’ve offered you a job as my assistant to which is significantly less dangerous.”

“My job isn’t that dangerous. I can handle the treasure hoarders and hilichurls with ease.”

“I don’t want you too though.” She says, you sense something different with her tone as she stitches a hole she spotted shut. Her hands moving the string as a spider weaves its web. It appears you’re too entangled in her strings to leave so easily now.

“I-I appreciate that.” You say. “But being your assistant would be difficult. I can’t travel with you..” you frown as you remember how she mentioned how she wanted to leave inazuma. You cannot however, being a Oni you were far removed from society especially In it’s paperwork. You have no travel papers or birth certificate because you born in a clan of Onis who saw no reason for such documents, your birth wasn’t officially registered with the Inazuma government as many others were. Which means you can’t legally travel outside of Inazuma. That’s what the lady in Ritou said at least.

“I’d stay if you wanted me too.” She said, her hands stopped their work as she looked up at you with a look that made you melt. “You’re beautiful you know, beyond your pretty face and soft hair… you’re far from what they say about you. You’re not a brute, you’re not even cruel, you have the biggest heart I’ve seen.” You can’t help but blush. She’s rarely as sweet as she is now.

“I don’t want to hold you back. You deserve to see the world, and I don’t want you to be stuck here.”

“If you could… would you go with me?” She asks. You pause. Leaving Inazuma would be a privilege. You only heard tales of the other nations and what it was like. You only saw a few trinkets from the other nations. What would it be like to feel the wind in Mondstadt, or to go swimming in Fontaine, supposedly you could breathe underwater. You’ve heard endless praise of the dishes in Liyue from the merchants you helped to escort. You even got to try one and you found they weren’t exaggerating. Perhaps you just never allowed yourself to dream of actually going there because you doubted that would ever be real.

“I would love to.” You say. “To explore the world with you would be a pleasure.”

Silence falls between you as you tense up. Did that freak her out? You weren’t sure if she was into you or not. Oni customs are quite different. You had read about human customs sure but you still couldn’t tell. She pulls away gesturing for you to spin around. You do.

“That Lady in Ritou.. she’s the one who told you that you couldn’t leave right?” She asked. You felt concerned, It wasn’t unlike Chiori to be a bit vindictive if she felt upset at someone.

“Yes, what did you do to her?”

“Well I had a word with her, and I found out she was full of it. You can easily file for a birth certificate as long as your parents come with you to testify its correct. It just costs a bit of mora.” She says going back to sewing.

“Yes I’m aware of that too. Its why I started my Mercenary career.”

“I could pay for it… save your money for the ticket out of here. Those government officals love to overcharge. Someone like you seems easy to fool. You’re too kind to them.”

“To be fair I have to be. If I’m even slightly mean or angry they act like I’m going on a rampage. My behaviors don’t just affect how they perceive me, but my entire species. I have to be calm otherwise they won’t even give me a chance.” You lament.

“I’ll be mean then, you know I have a bite to me. They can’t say anything if its me pushing on your behalf.” She says with a mischievous smile.

“But it could ruin your reputation.” You say

“With who? I could care less what they think of me. Those kind of people aren’t worth a cent of my time anyways.” She say’s confidently. “People don’t ask. Fashion designer to be their friend they ask a fashion designer to make them look good infront of their friends.” You smile as she again shuts down your worries about her. You’re not used to this. You’re used to fighting and arguing just to prove you have heart. You’re used to beans being tossed and always having to give a second chance when they realize they were wrong. You try to be understanding, you try to be otherwise you’ll be seen as unreasonable. But Chiori isn’t like that. She once kicked out a customer because they screamed at you throwing beans when you were just bringing her textiles in. She yelled at how disrespectful they were to her staff and that they wouldn’t ever be welcomed in her shop.

“Hey. Stop overthinking.” She smacked your face guiding you to look down. In your thoughts she moved to your front to start tying your custom obi.

“I’m not overthinking this time actually… i was just thinking about something.”

“If anyone in the outside world is threatened by you I’ll correct their assumptions. You really need to let me help you here.”

“Actually… i was just thinking about you…” you say, her eyes widen slightly, a rare sight as her confident frown is replaced with confusion. “You… thank you Chiori… I-I’m just..not used to someone like yourself…” you smile as she shakes her head briefly before regaining her composure.

“Its really not that big of a deal. Now, tell me.. did I surpass your expectations?” She says moving out of the way so you can see your new outfit in the mirror. You smile, not because its the most beautiful you’ve ever felt for a woman your size, but because she looks at you like you are one. Your confidence is boosted by the clear pride she exhibits in it.

“Even better than I could’ve imagined.” You say. She raises her head in pride.

“Well good, I can get started on the others now.”

“Wait what?”

“Well, you don’t expect to travel teyvat with only one fancy garment do you?”

#genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #chiori #chiori x reader #oni reader #wlw #wlw post

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kinzis-writing · 6 months ago

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Jealousy, Jealousy | Tee Higgins

Summary: Being a model has it perks, your NFL boyfriend becoming jealous is not one of them. based on this ask.

Pairing: you x Tee Higgins (Female perspective)

Requested: Yes | No (Anon)

Warnings: jealousy, angry! Tee, angst, fluff

Note: So I had this imagine written out 10x better, but it had deleted itself from my laptop or it updated without saving so. I apologize that this version sucks but I am still upset. it also deleted my drafted josh allen and sam hubbard imagine so... rip to me tonight.

“That’s a wrap.” The photographer yelled as he put his camera down and everyone around the set started running to put things away. No doubt that everyone wanted to go home and be able to clock out of work.

Y/N made her way back to the dressing room where the stylist had dressed her for this modeling shoot. It was a bit different than some of the other shoots she did, but it was fun, nonetheless. As much as she loved her job, she couldn’t wait to be home to spend time with her boyfriend.

Her love life was something that she kept private. A decision that both her and Tee, her boyfriend, decided on. Since she was a well-known model and he was in the NFL, keeping quiet seemed like the best way to avoid scandals and to be able to soak in all the relationship. Keeping the relationship private kept the peace but it also brought challenges, since Tee and Y/N both have had to turn down people without letting their relationship spread.

“That was perfect Y/N, now you just have to walk the runway in New York in two weeks and then your set for your vacation.” Your manager was one of the best in the modeling industry and not to mention that some of your work felt like you were working with your best friend.

“Thanks Lydia.” You thanked her before going and hurriedly switched back into your clothing that you came to the studio in. You were more than happy to spend the evening with Tee and a bag of take out, and he just happened to order food from your favorite restaurant. Once all your supplies were gathered, you headed out to the uber that Lydia had arranged for you. You quickly gave the uber driver the address and then texted Tee to let him know that you would be home soon. You quickly tipped your driver once you arrived at your shared house, and then hopped out.

“I’m home!” You called when you walked in through the door. You let your bags hit the floor and gently scooted them to the side before taking off your shoes. “You will not believe the day I had-“You started but stopped when you walked into the kitchen and seen Tee glaring at the computer in front of him. “Hey, you okay?” You asked softly hoping not to startle him.

“You tell me.” He muttered, turning the computer around to face you.

Your eyebrows furrowed before reading over the article that had a picture attached to it. It was one about an upcoming project that had yet to be released but the shoot had already been done. “He’s the one that they made me pose with.” You explained to your boyfriend. “We did the shoot awhile ago.”

“You forgot to mention it was a lingerie shoot.” He accused.

It wasn’t like Tee to be jealous when you worked, as you both knew that you had people throwing themselves at you. You wouldn’t even have enough fingers and toes to count how many people message tee on his Instagram or how many thirsty comments he gets. You overlooked them most of the time because at the end of the day, you were the one he was coming home too. There were days when jealousy swept in, and this must have been the case for Tee as well.

“It was the Calvin Klein shoot.” You replied to his accusation. “I showed you the morning of what I would be wearing, and I told you Alex would be modeling the matching male set.” The explanation wasn’t enough, and Tee just turned the computer back over to face him before typing something.

“Look at the things these guys say about you.” He grumbled, turning the computer around again. Your eyes scanned over the interviews that Tee had popped up on the laptop. Ones where they admitted that they asked you out or thought you were hot. Comments that you had avoided when you worked with these particular people. “Half of these guys are in your phone and message you frequently.” He argued.

“I don’t answer them back! I would never cheat of you Tamaurice.” You started using his full name in hopes of making him realize how dumb it sounds. You cannot control who you work with, and he has had many interviewers leave him endearing comments when he agreed to interviews.

At the wrong time, your phone lit up. A DM from an actor coming through your phone making you stiffen. Tee quickly grabbed your phone off the counter and read the message with a scoff, he placed the phone down. “I’m going out.”

“Tee!” You called as he stormed past you. “You can’t just leave because your jealous!” You argued following him into the garage. “If I was replying that would be a different story. I just want you, why can’t you see that?”

“Who you calling jealous?” Tee grumbled stopping by the driver door of his car. “I’m not jealous I just want respect.”

“I do respect you because if I didn’t, I would be entertaining every single one of those guys.” You snapped. You loved Tee and he knew that. He was just overcome with jealousy that he wasn’t thinking clearly. To be honest, it was about time for him to snap due to jealousy because he hadn’t since the two of you had been together. As for you, you had been in his shoes at least twice since you two have become serious. “I love you; Tee and I know you know that.” You sighed out exhausted from this lovely evening taking a turn before you could even explain anything to him.

After a moment of silence, Tee spoke up. “Don’t wait up.” He muttered before getting into his car. The garage door opened, and he backed his car out of the garage and took off down the street.

You stood there frozen in your spot, tears coming to your eyes. He was mad and Jealousy over something that you had no control over. But maybe it was time for it to happen because you had started feeling a little jealous again too over his comment section on Instagram and TikTok. You blinked the tears away refusing to cry over something that was out of your control. You knew that he would be back, and it was just a matter of when.

It was weird going into the kitchen and enjoying take out by yourself, when you know that Tee had ordered it for your night in. You tried everything to keep your mind off your boyfriend, but nothing worked. You knew that regardless of what he said that you would be up until he came home, even if that was tomorrow.

*A few hours later*

After you finished your food, you made yourself comfortable on the couch. Turning on a movie to try to keep yourself occupied. You were almost asleep about an hour and a half into the movie until you heard the jingle of keys and your front door lock unlocking. Soon the door squeaked open, and you heard footsteps entering the house. A surge of anxiety and worry ran through you, unsure of which Tee was walking in. He had either cooled down and you were going to have a civil conversation, or he was still angry and just refused to stay away. The sound of the door shutting made you take a deep breath as you prepared yourself for whatever was to come. No matter what you were hoping that you could work through it, seeing as if you had done nothing wrong.

“I thought I told you not to wait up.” Tee spoke in a soft tone, letting Y/N know that he may still have been jealous, but the anger was gone or had at least faded.

You shrugged feeling a little at ease that he wasn’t angry, “I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyways.” You mumbled. You had been used to sharing a bed with your big teddy bear so that even when you worked away, if he stayed home, it was impossible to sleep.

“You were right.” Tee said as he walked into the living area and sat down on the couch beside you. “I was jealous, the most jealous I’ve ever been in my life. I just keep seeing all these articles, interviews, and posts about these guys that you work with or the ones that want to work with you and it’s been getting to me. Not to mention the other celebrities who don’t even know you and just see your work.”

You took in what he said, “Does it bother you that these people are reaching out? Or does it bother you that they’re reaching out because of my body and looks?” you asked him even though you knew that the answer was probably both, but the second one bothered him more.

“Both, but you’re such an amazing person and deserve to be seen passed your body and great looks.” He explained making your heart melt.

How did you get so lucky? You weren’t sure. There were so many women that Tee could have chosen, and he someone ended up with you. “Well, they’ll never get to me passed my pictures or if they’re at my shoots.” You assured him. “I love you, Tee. I’m not going anywhere, and they can try to take me from you, but it isn’t going to work if you want me around.” You assured him even more, knowing what it felt like to be jealous and insecure. “Is it bothering you so much because we met through social media?” You asked knowing there was an underlying issue to this incident.

Tee thought for a moment before realizing that maybe that was the actual problem. The fact that these guys were trying to hit you up the same way that he had. Not to mention that some of them are brave enough to ask you out when they see you in person. “Maybe.” He mumbled. “I’m sorry about earlier, I shouldn’t have gotten upset because like you said, you weren’t entertaining any of them.”

You gave him a thankful smile before placing your hand on his knee, “I get jealous at least twice a month at the minimum, so it’s fine.” She joked. Tee let out a chuckle while shaking his head.

“How did I get so lucky?”

“I ask myself the same thing.”

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sketchiefoxie · 5 months ago

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#TMayNT 31 The Turtles in my Favorite Style

my personal favorite style has got to be @tangledinink style. Their art is so soft yet sketchy, and absolutely gorgeous!!! I tried to mimic it for this sketch, doing @tangledinink art style in my style. My personal favorite part of their art style, has got to be how they draw eyes. So very stylistic, beautiful and graceful!! Tangled, you’re a huge inspiration to me!!

Here’s an alternate color tone , cause I thought it would look nice ^^

Tags, thanks, and prompt list under the cut.

@tmaynt thank you so much for hosting this event!! This is my first tmnt challenge I’ve participated in, and lemme tell you I had so much fun!!!

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt donnie #Tmnt #tmaynt #tangledinink #art style #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles

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bonny-kookoo · 2 years ago

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Jungkook: Velvet Love 🔞

The things he says never match the smile he's got on his lips.

Tags/Warnings: Yandere AU, Idol!Jungkook, graphic description of gore (briefly), twisted kook, description of mental insanity

Length: Short

Belongs to: Velvet Heart (but can be read as a standalone)

!! Disclaimer: I do not believe Jeon Jungkook to be like this, God no. This is pure fiction and meant to be seen as nothing but entertainment. Thank you.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"Alright how long will it be?" Jungkook asks as everyone gets ready for the shoot. "I really need to be home by 6 tonight, latest, or I might have to murder someone this time." He chuckles, voice light as he taps away on his phone, the stylist's hands stuttering a bit as everyone glances away uncomfortably from the idol. "What? Am I not getting an answer?" He asks innocently, looking around.

"I-we can't tell yet how long it'll take." The director says. "But we'll try and get it done as quickly as we can." He hurries out at the eye contact Jungkook holds with the man, dark orbs unmoving as they focus on the older man silently.

Before the singer smiles.

"No problem, I just don't wanna go home so late again." He shrugs, slumping down into his seat a little.

He's in a good mood today. That's not the norm- no one can really ever tell what kind of emotions go through him each day. While he used to be like this almost all the time back when he was younger, something had changed these days. Now, no one can tell if the words he says are to be taken as a joke, or as a threat.

Sometimes, like today, it feels like nothing's wrong again. As if the old Jungkook had returned, wiping away all the scary and unnerving changes that happened over the course of the last few years away, turning those things into nothing but a bad dream.

The shooting is fun. Everyone's light hearted again. The air feels easy.

"You think the challenge will be easy for you?" A staff member asks Jungkook in the back of the car as they all play a game of hide and seek in a way. He's supposed to find the rest of the members with small cues and nothing else. He chuckles.

"Easy." He laughs. "I'm good at games like these. No one gets away from me." He chuckles, and again, the mood shifts for a second.

He smiles. He's teasing, joking- probably. But no one is able to not hear any underlying implications He might be putting into his words.

So when the shooting ends, and its barely 5, Jungkook grins brightly as he leaves to go home.

And only then does anybody dare to breathe freely again.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"Do you think he'd ever..." Jimin mumbles, sitting with the rest of the band backstage as they eat something, Jungkook not attending as usual. He's almost always rushing home to you right after his schedule, never staying behind for longer than necessary as if he'd run out of oxygen to breathe if he was to be apart from your presence for too long. "..I- you know what I mean, right?" Jimin says quietly, and Namjoon sighs.

"I'd like to believe he wouldn't." Hoseok says lowly. "I want to.. believe he wouldn't do that." He says, but he's not believing it.

But he, as well as others, have seen what Jungkook is capable of.

He choked Taehyung before, to the point of the singer's face turning blue. Jungkook doesn't shout, doesn't yell, never seems to voice out his anger, but rather acts on it instead. He breaks furniture, smashes holes into walls, but his favorite is always to hurt. He does it with such a calm nature that it's truly unnerving to see.

It eliminates any way of truly telling if he's ever joking or honest when he tells one of his more twisted jokes.

"But I think we're all aware that he's very much capable of it." Namjoon says with a lot more control than the others. "No one's ever safe around him. You've heard how he talks; at this point, I believe every word he tells about violence." He explains. He knows Jimin is worried for you- after all, he's the only one who ever had any true interaction with you- he knows the singer feels for your safety, wants to somehow get you out of your situation.

But he also needs to remember that if Jungkook ever found out about this, he'd probably be a dead man.

"Dont you think we should do something then?" Jimin says, just like Namjoon had expected.

"The only thing you can do is not think about it." Seokjin offers soberly. "Then it'll hurt less."

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You're beginning to try and speak more, and Jungkook worries it might become a problem at some point.

He can't have you babble about what goes on behind closed doors to others after all- what if you tell someone your address by accident, or how he's bought you a collar with a tracking device just to check where you go each day?

Of course, technically, he doesn't need it. You never leave the house after all, because you're just a good girl like that- and because the stories he tells you have made you afraid enough to never dare set foot beyond the apartment door ever. He doesn't ever make his stories too gruesome- mainly because he knows it'll make you a little too clingy, so he always depicts himself as the immortal God that cannot be harmed by any of the things he makes up. But you can be killed. You're mortal. A bag of flesh, ready to be devoured by the beasts that roam the streets outside of the safety of these walls.

You need him to survive. And he needs you to believe that.

He enjoys that you don't speak much. The noises you make and the gestures you've created to communicate are nothing shy of adorable to him after all, and any progress at proper human communication would ruin that feature of you for him. He doesn't want that- you're perfect just like this, like a pet, simply existing for him only, surviving because he wants you to.

You're alive because he allows it.

"I'll be home the entire week baby." He hums to you on his chest. "They've kept me hostage for way too much recently. I'll be with you for the entire week, I promise." He says, and you just smile, mesmerized by whatever he's saying. "You've got no idea what I'm telling you, stupid little thing?" He chuckles, and you smile as well, happily receiving his affection.

He loves it like this.

And he'll do everything and anything to keep it this way.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Would he ever kill? Truly take a life so it never returns?

He doesn't know. He's never been pushed to that degree to find out if he's capable of it. But he knows, he sometimes gets the somewhat of an urge - if not himself, then his brain rather comes up with sick and twisted thoughts of you.

His mind starts to bend memories of you into shapes unfamiliar, his hands no longer holding yours but rather bending you over his thigh until your spine cracks and breaks in half.

He gets scared of these thoughts. It's like they're not his.

He becomes fearful whenever he dreams of your chest split open by his own hands, fingers tracing each of your exposed ribs while he can't see anything but red. He knows you'd been broken before, mentally at least. Would he end up being the one to break you physically?

Maybe it's his fear of possibly losing you.

He makes love to you painfully slowly, carefully, and yet he sometimes can't help himself but to make you up as his. Never to the degree of inflicting true damage, but just to show his own actions are still under control.

He's a rabid animal, a pet once loved but now sick and deseased, truly on the verge of wasting away.

And no one around him wants to admit it.

Not while there's still traces of the old him inside.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagine #bts yandere #yandere bts #yandere jungkook

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