#the wind blowing through the flowers?

[iliothermia]

Since you said we can ask, do you mind if I ask how you plan your backgrounds? They're so intricate and pretty

I just can't bring myself to draw anything that isn't contained within itself often. It's all about framing and containment for me.

Cultural references, important moments in a character's story, celebrating Tu Bishvat, flowers from my childhood attached to memories- framing is a great place to put things that aren't the focus of the piece but little supporting details about the subject, or you. Framing within framing is also helpful for me, to keep things detailed but also have a balance of not-overwhelming space too. Envisioning the space where things happens helps. After I figure out composition the unplanned rest of it can just fit in those planned spaces of busy-ness.

[setmeatopthepyre]

gotta be honest, my favorite extremely niche genre of greek myth rn is 'early spring flower named after beautiful young man who dies tragic death'

[flitterywings]

really have been needing mental peace and calm and quiet recently that never seems to come

[the-scungles-of-crungles]

Oh man. That caption on the art reminds me of when I used to play Journey. Usually other people would join you, you wouldn't know who they were until the credits, and you could only communicate through strange lil noises.

I think sometimes it was an npc.

... I'm remembering the sadness of when the other player would leave. Their character would simply sit down. You'd have to just move on until the next player showed up in the next area.

You'd meet a few different people along the way, lose them, find another who looked the same, not be sure if it was someone new, and somehow feel a strange sense of friendship despite the lack of identification or communication.

I wonder if there's still people playing it. Making those temporary bonds, going through the same simple story over and over again, continuing a cycle that started long ago. Damn...

they should do an MMO where everyone is a shapeshifter and you can go live with animal herds in the wild if you want for a time but you are never entirely one of them, noting that the wild animal npcs partake in behaviors with or make calls to one another that you may not understand the logic of but can try to learn to repeat the musical cadence of. this is true of even the human npcs, whose musical language is the most intricate and complex to learn of all and who will ostracize you readily if you do not use it properly. other players are not marked as players and there is no chat feature. as an elk you may not know if the wolf chasing you is an npc or another player who does not know the same of you, and there is no chat. maybe the players would develop a sort of musical cadence to identify other shifters. no one would like this game and it would not be fun. but i would like it

[bunnis-monsters]

Becoming the Queen

Bee hybrids x Fem!Reader

warning: oviposition, orgy, breeding, oral

WK: 5k

A/N: I hope this is alright for a Valentine’s Day special… this is a commission, hehe. The lovely members on kofi got to see this 2 weeks early ><

It was early, the grass you trudged through to get to work still wet with the morning dew. You never truly enjoyed waking up before the sun rose, but you loved what you did and could never give it up.

You were a florist, owning the only flower shop in the county. People from all over would come to buy a bouquet, and you were up to your head in flower arrangements by the late afternoon.

Some customers were kind, tipping you well and making sure their flowers were well taken care of. Others got on your very last nerve, daring to say your flowers seemed old or wilted.

It took everything in you not to leap over the counters. You could take people insulting you, but no one could insinuate that your flowers weren’t perfect. You grew them yourself, preening and watering them to perfection.

As you neared your flower shop, you noticed there were more customers than usual waiting outside. Usually most of your sales happened after 10 am, not so early in the day.

But as you took out your keys and looked up, you realized that not all of them were there for flowers.

One of your windows was broken, shards of glass covering the floor and a bit of blood staining the windowsill. Something has smashed through the glass!

And from taking one look into your shop, you realized that they hadn’t just broken your window.

Bouquets lay strewn across the cool tiles, petals blowing in the wind as you opened the door. Someone or something had been in your shop and had ruined your carefully arranged bouquets.

A shard of one of your potted plants crunched under your foot as you took in all the damage that had been done. It would set you back several weeks.

“Damn it…”

Although it frustrated you to no end, you brushed off your skirt and set off to the back, grabbing a broom and getting to work.

After getting the mess up and opening up the shop, you tried your best not to think about what destroyed your inventory. You focused on your work instead. It was always easy to lose yourself in a good book while waiting on your next customer, but today your mind kept wandering back to potential culprits.

There were a group of teenagers that vandalized a restaurant a block away last week. At the local boba place, someone had been stealing the boba and straws. It wasn’t unthinkable that the other incidents may be related to what happened earlier that morning.

You closed the shop for the night, sighing as you zipped up your hoodie. It was way too cold, you’d have to bring your coat tomorrow if you planned on being out this late.

It couldn’t be helped, you had to stay after closing to contact clients and refer them to other florists that could get their arrangements done now that the ones you prepared were ruined.

Thankfully, most of your clients were kind enough to overlook it, but you received a few earfuls that you couldn’t complain about. At least they weren’t leaving a bad review…

The night air made you shiver. You rubbed your arms and continued on home, dreading tomorrow. There was so much work you’d have to redo, and money you would lose out on.

‘I hope there’s going to be enough money left over for me to pay my bills this month…’

You were stirred from your thoughts when you felt a chill go down your spine. For a moment you just assumed it was the frigid temperatures making you feel this way, but something was off.

The world around you was quiet. The way home had sparse light, and before that night you had never been afraid of the dark. It comforted you, in fact.

But as you froze in the middle of the path, your heart thumping against your chest, you realized that there was a sound that drowned out everything else. You hadn’t noticed it at first, and now it was almost unbearably loud.

A buzzing filled the air, and you quickly had to cover your ears as it only increased in volume.

You picked up something else, the smell of honey. Slowly, you opened your eyes.

It took a moment to fully comprehend what was before you. There were several humanoid silhouettes surrounding you, and their outlines were… fluffy?

“Is this really her?”

“Yes, I told you she was soft!”

“And she makes the flowers bloom?”

“Yes, yes!”

A hand reached out to tilt your chin up, and you were face to face with some kind of insect-like creature. It was taller than any man you had ever seen, with big black eyes and yellow… fluff? Fuzz? You weren’t sure, but these things didn’t have normal human skin.

“Ah, she’s just as pretty as you said.”

The other creatures let out a satisfied buzz, encircling you. They all seemed rather curious and excited, lifting up parts of your clothing and examining you.

“H-hey!”

When you yelped, they all backed off, seeming confused and a little hurt. “Wh… what the hell are you… things? Why are you following me!?”

The leader stepped forward again, a bit sheepish but understanding. “Sorry… we saw how upset you were about the mess we made and-“

“You all caused that mess!?”

They all let out whines and upset buzzes as you groaned. The entire day had been a nightmare you’d wake up from soon. It had to be.

“I’m going to bed…”

You moved past the group, but they followed after you, seeming concerned and nervous.

“But you’re coming with u-“

His mouth was covered by another’s hand. “We’re sorry for the mess. Please, we’ll help repay you tomorrow. So… don’t be too angry.”

It was hard to stay too angry with them, they sounded genuinely remorseful and a touch sad. “… alright, but you’ll need to be here early tomorrow.”

You went to bed, figuring that this would all be over once you had a good night of sleep. There were no strange bee-like creatures in your front yard, no difficult messes to deal with, just a bad dream.

Unfortunately you were very wrong.

Walking outside with your hot coffee and sporting your pajamas, you were met with several expectant faces.

“You’re awake!”

You stood there for a moment, blinking sluggishly before staring down at your coffee. After blinking a few times, you breathed in and out.

“So… you are real then.”

The creatures were bee hybrids, a species you heard about before. Hybrids weren’t exactly uncommon, but it was rare for insect based hybrids to leave their hives or nests to interact with humans.

They did keep their promise and help you prepare bouquets the entire day, pollinating your flowers and following after you baby ducklings with their mother.

Unbeknownst to you, the bees had been watching you for a while.

It started when they lost their queen.

For months she had been bedridden, and no eggs were laid. Of course, the bee hybrids were much more concerned about their beloved queen than eggs, but she was beside herself with worry.

“Who will take care of you when I’m gone?”

The queen knew she was well past her egg bearing years and was going to die soon. After all, what purpose did a queen have when she couldn’t expand the hive?

“Don’t say things like that, your majesty. You won’t leave us…”

They were stricken with grief after her passing, nearly a year went by before they even considered a new queen.

Their last one had been a bee hybrid born in that very hive. Wanting to keep the tradition of raising a new queen wasn’t possible since she had only ever birthed sons.

Not wanting to take the chance of foreign bee hives trying to spy on them by giving them a female, the bee hybrids looked elsewhere for their next queen.

You happened to be a perfect match.

Not only were you beautiful and plump as a good queen should be, your kind nature and gentle heart told them you would be an amazing mother to the little ones.

The only problem was getting you to the hive.

“She’s so pretty, I love her…” said one of the bee hybrids, his wings fluttering as he watched you remove the thorns from some roses.

“She is. I want to stuff her full of my e-“

The others turned red and buzzed at the horny bee. “H-hey, don’t talk about the queen like that!”

“But that’s what everyone’s thinking…”

The worker bees pouted, flying around you and offering pollen or honey. The guards watched from afar.

Most of the bee hybrids were not what you would call… intelligent. But there were some that ran the show and made all of the important decisions.

“We’ll take her soon. Our hive needs a queen, and if we don’t get one soon, everyone will go mad. We need a queen to mate and protect, it’s what keeps us calm,” said one of the guards, his stinger twitching and ready to attack.

“But she loves working with the flowers. What if we put a strain on her mind? If she is unwell, our hive will suffer with her.”

That was true, the bee hybrids’ productivity and mental well being depended on you. If you were depressed, they would be as well. Not only that, they’d be constantly trying to cheer you up and become worse if you remained in that state for too long.

“I think I know what we can do to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

~

You had never felt so tired in your entire life. The day hadn’t been so tough, but as you closed your eyes to go to bed, suddenly your body felt so heavy that you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to get up.

Sleep took you, and when you woke up everything seemed… different.

Your usually stiff bed felt incredibly soft, your body melting into the plush material.

“Ugh…”

The moment you let out a groan, you heard the sound of buzzing and frantic voices.

“The queen is awake!”

“Oh, my queen are you alright?”

“Hurry, prepare her breakfast and bring the towels for the bath!”

You rubbed your eyes as you listened to the bustling around you. When your vision was no longer blurry, you could hardly believe what you were seeing.

No longer were you in your small bedroom in your modest home by the forest. The walls of your room were shaped like a honeycomb… no, they were a honeycomb. You could even see the amber colored liquid pooling at the bottom as some bee hybrids scooped it up.

You were laid out on a king sized bed, with thick blankets and plush pillows surrounding you like some kind of nest.

Surrounding you was a swarm of bee hybrids. Some were teeming with excitement and giddy energy, while others peeked around their fellow hybrids with curiosity. The ones closest to you, though, seemed a mix of concerned and nervous, fretting over you.

“Oh, what if she isn’t feeling well? Should we give her some honey?”

“Breakfast first, she can have honey on toast or biscuits.”

“Humans really eat honey in that way?”

While you struggled to get your bearings, they continued to flit about the room doing various things to acclimate you.

“Where… am I?”

Every single one of the bee hybrids paused, their attention solely on you. Several whispered among themselves as their gaze stayed on your plump figure.

“You’re home, my queen.”

A taller, less fluffy bee hybrid walked forward, his expression neutral. He kneeled before you, taking your hand and raising it to his mouth for a kiss.

“Q-queen? What do you-“

All at once they all rushed forward to dote on you. Your body was covered in kisses, and you could feel their soft fluff almost everywhere.

“My queen, we’re so happy!”

“We promise you’ll have a good life here, no more stress or worry!”

Gentle nips and bites were pressed into your sensitive neck and thighs, hands moving to caress and grope all of your body.

You were still groggy, and immediately began to warm up when one hand found its way to your inner thigh. When you let out a startled moan, the bees on the bed began to buzz and focus on that spot.

“Our queen is sensitive!”

A few of them pried your thighs open, inspecting your bare cunt and giving it a few experimental touches and licks. Had they undressed you beforehand?

Their tongues were long and thin, delicate against your slowly hardening clit. You could tell they were all excited by the way their buzzing increased and their bodies shook.

Your scent filled the air, attracting more bee hybrids from the hall. The ones on the bed touched and fondled your sleepy body as the others watched from the sidelines.

Your face heated up when you realized they were stroking their cocks, their eyes glued on your body and the way it was being played with by their peers.

There was no chance to react or cry out in protest, you were being too overwhelmed by pleasure. One of their tongues entered your cunt, making your eyes widen and your fists clench the silk bed sheet underneath you.

“She likes that, don’t stop.”

You felt one of them latch onto your breasts, their long tongue swirling around your nipple. Their antennae tickled your face, and you felt completely overstimulated.

Every touch made you twist and buck your hips, it was hard to control yourself. Never before had you felt such intense pleasure, and it was making you see stars.

‘This has to be some sort of wet dream…’ you thought to yourself, squishing your plush thighs together. ‘Might as well enjoy it…’

“Is she ready yet?” one of them cooed, nuzzling their fluffy face against your neck.

“Not for eggs, but…”

The others backed off, and a smaller, more feminine looking bee hybrid climbed on top of you. He was still at least half a foot taller than you, but tiny compared to the others.

“H-hello, my queen…” he chirped shyly, giving your cheek an affectionate nuzzle. “I’ll be the one to mate with you first…”

He was even fluffier than the others, and his cock was already twitching against your thigh. It was more long than thick, and had a pinkish, orange color.

You reached out to touch it, your fingers wrapping around his length. This made the smaller bee hybrid gasp, his hips bucking wildly in surprise.

The other hybrids stepped closer, buzzing with both excitement and jealousy. Already, the single male was receiving all of your attention… they all wanted a turn!

Fortunately for you, they had been ordered to give you space. This would be your first time with a bee hybrid, and if they weren’t careful, they could end up hurting their precious queen.

Your health and well being meant more to them than anything else.

“M-my queen, ahh!”

His eyes glistened with flustered tears as you stroked his cock, honey colored precum seeping out of the tip. You couldn’t remember the last time you had pleasured yourself.

If this was a dream, you were going to have fun.

You laid on your back, pulling the hybrid in by his hips. It was clear out of the two of you, he was the one lacking experience.

“Oh, you’re so pretty my queen-“ he blubbered out, his hips rutting against yours as his cock settled between your pussy lips. You could feel his tip kissing your clit, and it was enough to have you both let out a shuddering moan.

“Mmph…”

You kissed him, letting his long tongue slip down your throat as you moved your hand to guide his cock towards your entrance.

The moan he let out in your mouth as he sunk into your fat cunt was sinful, and out of the corner of your eye you noticed several of the bees were fucking their fists to the sight of you being fucked by one of their own.

“T-too good! I’m gonna-“

His cum spurted into your womb, he was finishing before he could even properly thrust in and out of you. You were going to whine about it, but something caused you to pause your complaints.

While his cock twitched inside of you, it swelled up, and before you could question what was happening, eggs began to pool into your womb along with his cum.

The feeling of them being fucked into you, stretching your pussy out as the eggs were laid inside of you made your head spin.

Your pussy clenched around the eggs, and before you knew it you were cumming harder than you ever had before. You arched your back, tears running down your cheeks as you rode out your high.

By the end of it, you were a mess. Cum from both you and the bee hybrid pooled around your thighs, soaking into the expensive feeling sheets.

“This… isn’t a dream, is it?”

The hybrid gathered around you, some cooing over your spent, naked body while others were desperate to have their hands on you.

“It’s no dream, my queen!”

“We all love you!”

“Let’s get you to the bath, you deserve to relax!”

You let out a tired sigh as you were carried away. The tub was nearly as big as your bedroom back home, and several of the bees joined you in the warm, pleasantly scented water.

You could smell fresh flowers and honey, and you let out a sigh of relief when several pairs of hands went to work massaging your sore muscles. A pair of two slipped between your thighs, toying with your sensitive clit and feeling around to make sure all of the eggs were safe and sound inside of you.

“Is the water warm enough, my queen?”

Hands cupped your breasts, giving them a playful squeeze before rubbing honey scented soap into them. “Mmph, yes, it’s good…”

You glanced down at your belly, noticing it poked out slightly. The memory of how the eggs felt being pushed inside of you made your cheeks heat up.

This was all a lot to process. If this wasn’t a dream like you had originally assumed, then that meant you had been taken away to a bee hybrid hive and made into a queen.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions…” another bee said, giving you a sympathetic look. “But you don’t have to worry, we’ll cater to your every want and need. You’ll never want for anything.”

Deciding a fight wasn’t worth it, you sunk back into the warm water, letting yourself be pampered and taken care of for now.

“… I want to talk to whoever is in charge here.”

The two hybrid bathing you shared a look before speaking.

“That would be you, my queen.”

You placed a hand on your temple, rubbing it before replying. “I mean, who decided that I would be queen? Surely someone here has been making decisions regarding the hive while there was no queen.”

A silence fell over the room, the only sound being the water droplets falling from your skin.

“Well… I guess that would be the council. Are you requesting a meeting with the council, my queen?”

You nodded, and the two stood before getting you dried off and dressed. They were obedient, doing exactly as you asked. “Are you sure, my queen? You still need your breakfast and-“

“I’m sure, take me to the council.”

The walls of the hive were made of honeycomb, unsurprisingly. Each section contained a bee hybrid that was hard at work, making honey while chattering amongst themselves.

“Haven’t you heard, Bumble? There’s a new queen, and she’s a pretty one too!”

“Yeah, she’s already had her first batch of eggs too!”

“That’s not fair, I wanted to give the queen my eggs first!”

You avoided making eye contact with them, your cheeks hot with embarrassment again. It flustered you to know their words were causing your panties to grow wet.

Hiding was useless, though. The scent of your arousal caused the bee hybrids near you to react. Their antennas twitched while their cocks hardened the second your scent reached them. It was an immediate reaction that had you hiding within the safety of your guards as you were escorted to the council.

“My queen, what brings you here?”

You stood before the council, looking up at their pleasantly surprised faces. There were around 30 of them, all sitting in a half circle. Papers were piled next to each bee, and even while their full attention was on you, their hands still moved to work on the papers in front of them.

‘Busy and a bee’ was a phrase you heard a lot growing up, and as you watched them flit about the room, writing and shouting orders all while keeping their eyes on you, it finally dawned on you how accurate it was.

“I came here with questions. My first one is why am I here?”

They paused their work for a moment, and some shooed away any bees that weren’t in the council before shutting the doors.

“… as you may know, bee hybrid hives consist mainly of males,” one of the council members began, standing and walking towards you.

“Female bees are not born often, meaning that we cannot run a hive without… taking a female on as our queen,” another finished, setting aside a stack of finished papers.

“It’s also a great way to diversify the hive and prevent… inbreeding.”

You raised an eyebrow as the bee hybrid stood in front of you. He was nearly 10 feet tall, and crouched down in front of you, taking your hand before kissing the back of it.

When he looked into your eyes, they sparkled with devotion. “Our undercover agents have been watching you for months. You’re kind, and you love nature. You must know that without a queen, our hive will die out within a year.”

It was hard to look away from his dark orbs. The way he looked at you made your heart race.

“I know that we took you away without asking, but we cannot let you go. Please know that you will be treated with the utmost care, and you will be pampered beyond belief.”

For a moment you stayed quiet, your expression softening. “… what would be expected of me as queen?”

The entire council perked up, some leaping out of their seats in excitement without warning. They quickly returned to their work when the leader gave them a warning glance.

“You only have a handful of responsibilities each day. You greet the public, bond with the children, attend diplomatic meetings, and… breed with your loyal subjects to create your children.”

Your face heated up at the memory of your morning session with the pretty bee hybrid.

“And… I do these every day?”

They nodded. “Diplomatic meetings are less frequent, but everything else is daily.”

Daily… you’d get fucked like that daily?

‘Am I really going to abandon the life I’ve been living for the past few years just to get a good fuck and some pampering?’

Yes. Yes you were.

“Alright… I’m in. Not like I have much of a choice in the matter anyways…”

The bees surrounding you let out happy whines and buzzes. You were surrounded once again, being nuzzled and pulled into fluffy chests. They were all scenting you, obviously happy you were going to be their queen of your own free will.

“Then let’s get you some breakfast, my queen. You have much to do!”

Breakfast was filled with lots of chattering among your current attendants. They were fluffy, jealous things that lounged about in your quarters, burying their faces into your soft body and gossiping amongst themselves.

Once you were done eating, you were escorted to your first duty as queen.

“I hope your royal attendants behaved well. They are just excited to have a queen to dote on again. If you have any sexual needs or desires, they will perform them for you. And do not worry, they cannot produce eggs, so they exist purely for your pleasure and entertainment.”

It seemed strange, but your attendants seemed quite happy and spoiled, so you continued to follow the councilman in charge or guiding you.

“This is the nursery.”

The walls had the same honeycombs as the rest of the hive, but in each one was a crib and a sleeping babe. On the carpeted floor, toddlers waddled and crawled about, playing with toys as they got in their daily exercise.

Almost like a switch had been flipped, their tiny heads turned towards you. The closest baby bee tears up, their tiny, chubby legs struggling to carry them forward as they toddled their way over.

“M-mama!”

Every child within hearing range made their way over, clinging to your legs and fussing as they attempted to crawl up. They held onto your clothing, suckling on any bare skin they could find in an attempt to nurse.

“H-hey, I’m not your-“

The bee hybrid next to you sighed softly. “They won’t listen. You have the scent of their mother now, they want you to hold and feed them.”

Their little eyes were getting red and puffy from crying, they couldn’t understand why their mama wasn’t holding or feeding them.

It was really tugging at your heartstrings. They were just so little, you couldn’t imagine having a baby and how their innocent minds would try to process your death.

“Hey… it’s okay, mama is right here.”

You sat down, letting them climb into your lap and arms. A team of bee hybrids joined you, helping to bottle feed and soothe them.

“Once the eggs in you begin to grow, you’ll start lactating and will be able to feed hordes of the baby bees,” the councilman said, watching how the young ones bonded with you instantly.

“For now, though… you just need to give them your attention and care. They need it.”

As the little ones were laid down for a nap, you were able to sneak out and leave for your next appointment.

“The entire hive knows there is a new queen, gossip gets out fast,” the councilman said as you ate some lunch. Your attendants were playing with your clit, all cooing over how sensitive and hard it was getting under their touch.

There seemed to be no shame with them. You were sitting in the middle of the cafeteria and no one batted an eye as your fat pussy lips were pulled apart so they could lick and fuck your hole with their long tongues.

“However, you’ll still need to make an official appearance in front of the hive… that, and we’ll need to start the breeding ceremony.”

You were having trouble focusing, your fingers tugging on the hair of the bee between your legs. “C-ceremony?”

“Yes, my queen. It is customary for every bee hybrid to take a few days off of work to come and greet the queen. They all get their turns to mate and fill you with some of their own eggs.”

The ceremony began later in the evening. You were brought out before your loyal subjects, dressed in lacy lingerie and placed on a bed.

You felt less like a beloved ruler, and more like a breeding cow being brought out to be sold to the highest bidder.

Every bee bowed before you, dropping to one knee as they waited for you to speak.

“My loyal subjects…”

Just the sound of your voice sent a shiver of excitement through the crowd. You could see them shaking, few already hard and struggling to keep their hands off their pink, throbbing cocks.

“You have all been gathered here for the… breeding ceremony. As thanks for working as hard as you do, you all get a turn to…”

Again, your cheeks began to warm up. You couldn’t believe you were saying this. “… you all get a turn to breed me, your queen. I will take your eggs and incubate them, ensuring your bloodline will continue.”

With that, you laid down. The councilmen ushered forward a group of bee hybrids, and the breeding commenced.

They didn’t want to hurt you, that much was for sure.

Most of the bee hybrids were several feet taller than you, though some stopped at only a few inches above your head. No matter how much they towered over you, their touch was still gentle and hesitant.

None of them had ever touched a human before, much less mated with one. Your body was so sensitive, responding to every nudge and movement of their hands.

One of them sunk their fingers into your cunt, another offering you their cock. You took it into your mouth, causing them to buck their hips.

Your pussy gushed around their fingers.

“S-she’s getting all wet… my queen, is this good for you?”

“Yes, that means she’s excited! You can mate with her now!”

Each cock that entered you was different. Some were short and thick, others thin and long, but a few were both so girthy and long that you felt like you were being split in two.

At one point you were being fucked while jerking off two other bee hybrid and blowing another, trying to please as many as your subjects at once as possible.

The first creampie was almost soothing, the feeling of eggs filling your needy cunt was… mind blowing. You felt so fulfilled, you wanted to be fucked like this forever.

After the tenth bee hybrid though… you were so stuffed full you could barely think. Your tummy was stretched out, looking just about ready to burst.

“Oh, so pretty…” a bee chittered, rubbing your distended belly. “Our queen is doing so well…”

After another five bees had their way with you, the councilmen stepped forward. “That's enough for now, she needs her rest.”

Your attendants were quick to descend upon the bed, buzzing threateningly at every other hybrid that dared to even look at their exhausted queen.

“You truly did do well…” one of them cooed, kissing your temple after they bathed you then tucked you into bed.

“Sleep, you’ll need your rest. Tomorrow will bring even more eggs.”

As you laid down, curled up with a bee hybrid cuddle pile, you couldn’t help but look forward to tomorrow.

You were already becoming an amazing queen… and it had only been a day.

————————

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[hedgehog-moss]

The cherry tree I planted in front of the greenhouse blossomed for the first time this spring! A round of applause!

The wind always blows from the valley so I planted this tree strategically so that in spring a delicious smell would be delivered in my living-room through the windows, and around the outdoor table where I work, and it worked :) I estimate that it improved my quality of life by 11%. A light spring breeze carrying a cherry blossom smell is the kind of thing that stops me in my tracks ten times a day and makes me close my eyes and take a deep breath and think oh, life is good.

More tree updates: I talked in this post from 2021, then this one from 2022, about how I hoped to plant a 'fruit tree path' in the woods behind my house—this project is still ongoing and, well, hasn't borne fruit yet, but has finally blossomed. My Fruit Alley now boasts 10 trees, and looks like—what it is, a small opening in the woods that I have to deploy heroic and sustained efforts to keep open, because the woods try to reclaim it year after year, patiently, like a slow green tide.

The white thing in the middle is one of the tarps I've been using to smother brambles, I move them every few weeks and it works pretty well. I also use cardboard, but in the spring it's hard to keep up with the sheer rate of growth everywhere. Of course the main enemy is the army of broom that you can see in the distance, all yellow and cheerful-looking at the moment. I mostly fight them in the winter, every year I manage to push them back a few metres...

Here's a photo where you can better see some of the trees :

In total I have planted 2 apple trees, 1 quince tree, 1 mirabelle plum, 3 red plums, 1 nectarine tree, 3 cherry trees. I'm really glad that all of them survived, as I was a bit worried about damage from deer or boars. I did lose 2 chestnut trees that were destroyed so savagely I have to assume it's wild boars, but I had planted them much farther away in the woods and I won't make this mistake again. I now have two new baby chestnuts and I planted them near the greenhouse (downhill):

I think I'd never seen nectarine flowers before, they look exotic! I also discovered this year what quince flowers look like:

The only tree that didn't bloom was the smallest apple tree, and honestly that's her fault because for some reason she decided to make tender new green leaves in the middle of winter, so she pretty much exhausted herself for nothing. And you can't blame climate change and seasons being weird for this, because it was a cold and snowy week and no other nearby fruit trees were making any leaves. The confused apple tree is a New Zealand cultivar, so I suppose you could argue she thinks she's still in New Zealand, except she's never been to New Zealand in her life, she was born and raised in France, she doesn't know New Zealand exists. The only possible explanation is, I suppose, a deep-rooted yearning for their ancestral homeland among New Zealand apple trees.

I was a bit concerned when this tree then failed to produce any leaves in the spring, I worried she might be hopelessly hemispherically-challenged, but then I went back to check two weeks later and she was finally green! In a seasonally-appropriate way!

Other trees I've planted, not in the fruit tree path: a persimmon, but it died very quickly :( I will try again; a goji berry shrub, which has been here for two years and seems to be doing well, but so far no sign of berries; and in front of my house, an amelanchier (un arbre dont ma mère n'arrive jamais à se rappeler le nom et qu'elle persiste à appeler "le mélenchon"):

Finally, my last piece of important tree-related news is that I had the hazel tree near my house removed this winter:

I asked the guy who was working on the road nearby with an excavator digging a drainage trench if he could do it, and it took all of 10 minutes, like picking a flower, it was impressive!

And the reason I wanted to remove it is that there are hundreds of hazel trees in my woods and I wanted something different in this spot by the house. Unfortunately for this deserving hazel, it just wasn't special enough.

So I planted a tiny ginkgo :) And now I just have to be extremely patient as I wait for everyone to grow.

[lilacgaby]

katsuki didn't expect to be here today.

with you, a gorgeous woman at that, laid in his arms. found passed out in the meadows, a flower bed beneath the two of you. time still, wind blowing through your bodies as you rested.

he had been out hunting, blowing off smoke. annoyed at his current situation of being forced to marry a woman he didn't know, one who'd likely never love him. one he knew he'd never love.

a life of loveless marriage, one he was raised under, scared him more than he'd pray tell.

he'd rushed out quickly, barging through the servants, the large doors, and his grand estate. only his bow and sword on him as he trekked through. familiar lands enveloped him, but the sight of you didn't. more importantly, the sight of you, who had started falling.

he was moving before he realized, catching you in muscled arms, the sad crunches of ruined flowers beneath him. though none compared to the sight of the one he held now.

his bow and sword discarded, hands moving out of instinct to wipe the tears off of your face. it was clear you weren't supposed to be out here, your dress one of a high noble, silks too expensive for a common folk to afford. a satchel.. one that bore an emblem that seemed all too familiar. thoug it didn't take his full attention. his body seemed all to keen to focus on you, his chest sought to match your breaths, hearts beating in tandem.

you awoke just a few moments later, eyes wide at the sight of him. he settled you next to him, as you spoke to him. "thank you, i don't know what came over me." you spoke gently, a tone of unconfidence as you looked down at your hands. a ring on your finger.

though it looked unfit on you.

"i understand." he replied gruffly, picking up his weapons behind him, hands feeling antsy to be occupied at the sight of the gorgeous stranger in front of him. "bad feelings 've been in the air lately, it seems."

you looked up at him finally, allowing him to get a clear view of your face. with eyes puffy, lips swollen and bitten, and cheeks red. he fought off a smile, this wasn't the time to be thinking of how cute you looked.

you let out a sigh of sorrow. "it's been getting to all of the heirs of age, it seems."

he held you for a minute longer, hands grasped together tightly, wordless comfort based of mutual understanding given. neither of you said anything, but you both felt like you needed it. he knew it in the way you didn't want to let him go. and you knew it in the way he didn't. it was hard for him to pull away, but he knew he had to.

after a beat, he stood up. lowering a hand to you. "no sense in worrying about the inevitable," you smiled slightly and took his hand. "right."

he looked at the sun, it was slowly falling, prime hunting time. "you should head back to wherever you came, it'll be night soon." you nodded, and brought a bag up from the floor, you opened it, and a bracelet was in your palms.

you handed it to him, the red ruby of the beads matching his eyes as they shinned in the sun. "take this, please."

he was taken aback, seemingly unaware of why you would do this for him. he tried pushing your hand away, but it was unrelenting. a stubborn look in your eyes and he rolled his, sliding it onto his wrist.

he moved to leave, when you grabbed your wrist. it was out of impulse, he felt the internal panic in your stance, your mouth hung open slightly, though no words escaping. finally though, you manage a weak, "your name?"

for the first time since his arrangement, he laughed. laughed at the simplicity of the gesture, at your expression, at his situation.

with a boyish smile, he rested your hand at your side, touch lingering for a second too long. "call me katsuki."

he turned to leave, feet feeling a little more heavy now, knowing he was walking away from you. someone he seemed to get along with so easily.

you yelled your name after him, the crunches of the grass underneath your shoes fading away too. you were gone now.

he looked back at you, feeling the beads of the bracelet under nimble fingers, before squeezing it in his palm.

the hunting went poorly, he was too distracted to aim. the night went painstakingly fast, the arrival of the family, his wife, the agenda for the day.

uncomfortable traditional clothes felt even heavier now, the chains of being binded to someone he didn't know being heavier than any chain he could break physically.

his head that was slumped on the table was now forced up, his mother kicking him in the foot to remind him to at least try and be polite. he sighed, a feeling of dread hanging over him as the footsteps neared.

each one was sealing his fate, the door click the nail in the coffin.

but all his negativity vanished, all poor thoughts ceasing at the sight of you. your eyes were just as wide as his, your hand over your face in shock. the entourage beside you confused at your expression.

"madam?"

"katsuki?" you whispered under your breath.

though he managed to hear you. how could he not when you demanded his attention so seamlessly?

but now it was his turn to be speechless. speechless at the prospect of your rank, of your arrival,

and at the realization that he'd be married to you.

tags: @k0z3me @darhinadadragon @maddietries @exoticrasin @lavendarstarz @hisonlyobsession @i-the-fluffo @cookielovesbook-akie @frosted-flakes @irenne-stans @lulumi1u @bakunis @twirlyphim @drawingforshitsandgiggles

[beloveds-embrace]

(p5/final part of fae poly 141 x cursed human reader || masterlist || cw: ANGST) peep the chapter title in the masterlist :D

It came as a quiet- one so deep and vast that even the winds forgot to blow.

The castle knew before anyone. It held its breath, the great hearths snuffing down to embers, the stones cooling beneath its bones. The will-o-wisps blinked out, one by one, not in fear, but reverence- so that today, no one will be led astray. The trees along the garden paths stopped their whispering, leaves still mid-quiver, branches creaking as they turned inward toward the heart of the estate.

Thrain raised his head beneath your chamber window.

The stag, so old and rooted in legend no bard had sung his name rightly in an age, stared skyward as snow began to fall. Slow, soundless. Not cold. Each flake shimmered faintly with magic, with memory. With you.

Inside, the chamber was dim and quiet, lit only by the pale glow of starlight seeping through frost-laced glass. The scent of lavender and winter clover hung in the air, soft and faded like a lullaby remembered from childhood. Curtains, woven with moon-silver threads and embroidered with wards to keep the darker dreams at bay, shifted gently in the breeze that wasn’t there. The room itself seemed to breathe slower now, as if matching your rhythm- one long inhale, one longer silence.

You lay nestled deep beneath layers of velvet and fur, of wildflower-threaded quilts and fae-woven linens that shimmered faintly with old enchantments. Johnny had insisted on them each morning, draping warmth around your ever-fragile frame even when spring had melted the snow and kissed new green into the garden paths. It was his way of trying to keep you rooted here- on this side of the veil.

Your breathing was soft and faint. The curse had slowed in its cruel unraveling, tugged back again and again by the desperate, tireless magic John poured into you. Every drop of power he possessed, every ounce of his life force, siphoned away over the years in hopes of buying you another day, another breath, another smile. It worked for a time.

But nothing lasted forever, and John knew that.

He had known before the sun set.

He sat beside you, unmoving, save for the way his hand combed endlessly through your hair- gentle, reverent, trembling. His other hand held yours, your fingers loose and still, warmed only by his touch. Your head rested against his chest, your face tilted toward the hollow of his throat like a child tucked beneath a parent’s chin. You hadn’t spoken in days, not truly. Only murmured fragments- echoes of half-remembered songs, unfinished questions, and once, the name of a star he hadn’t heard in years. You’d sounded so happy… John’s heart had wanted to tear itself apart.

You were quiet now in the way ancient things are quiet. Like a garden gone to sleep beneath snow, like a book with no more pages left to turn.

John whispered stories to you anyway.

He spoke of the first time you met- how he thought you were too stubborn to survive the fae court and too soft to ever bend it. How wrong he’d been. How the court, the world, and even he had been reshaped around your steady, patient will.

He told you how Simon had found you one morning feeding the ghosts of the orchard, and how Kyle still carried your pressed flower charms in his armor. He recounted Johnny’s latest disaster in the kitchens and how you’d once laughed so hard at him you cried- and gods, how he wished he could hear that sound again. He told you all of it, weaving memory into magic and memory again, as if with enough words, he might stitch your soul into staying.

And as he held you, his voice frayed around the edges.

"I love you," he said. Not for the first time. Not for the last. The words cracked like porcelain dropped from too high a shelf. “Still. Always.”

Your breathing, already shallow, paused, and he stilled in turn.

Then, you sighed- just once. A sound as soft and weightless as the falling of a single petal from a long-dead flower, peace in each strand. A sound of release, a breath unburdened.

And then- you were gone.

No thunder nor flash of light, and no violent wrenching. Just absence- the soul's candle guttered in silence.

Your fingers slipped from his. Your warmth, so long faint, faded fully. Your face went still in the most peaceful way, a small smile carved on your cheeks like something ancient had simply returned to the earth it loved. The faintest glow that had always clung to your skina your humanity tempered with magic, your life steeped in love- shimmered once, and then dimmed like a star blinking out.

John did not move.

He couldn’t even if he wanted to.

The grief did not crash into him; it hollowed him, slowly, like the sea does to cliffside stone. He stared down at your face, memorizing what he already knew. The curve of your lips. The flutter of lashes against your cheek. The small scar on your jaw from where you’d once fallen in the Queen’s Gardens.

John did not weep even if several tears tracked down into his beard. His hands, too strong to tremble in battle, now trembled with the soft weight of your body in his arms. He could not weep, for he knew this- this was your peace. He had done his best to find a cure, but- life was not kind.

A low, resonant groan echoed through the castle, neither man-made nor fae.

The very walls- alive with magic older than time itself- mourned you. A wail of stone and a s sigh of timbers. Crystals embedded in the ceiling chimed once and shattered and the lights in the sconces flickered to ash. The wind outside did not howl- but it bent, as if bowing low to the one it had once braided through wildflower hair.

And still, John did not let you go.

He held you through the coming dark, his chest silent but for the uneven quake of breath between shaky breaths, his magic still curled around you like a desperate tether. And for hours, he simply rocked you. As if in this moment, you were still alive. As if holding you long enough might unmake the inevitable.

But death, like magic, answers to no king.

And your body stayed still and at peace.

You had left with no anger in your heart, no hatred nor guilt. You left only love, quiet and worn and fierce- threaded through every inch of the man who now mourned you.

A soul as lovely as yours could never die cruelly.

It simply… drifted home, and John understood that even if he felt something shatter so deeply it echoed across every realm.

You were gone.

No cry and no shudder, just the soft parting of a thread from a tapestry.

Later, it was Simon who walked in first. He did not speak, only looked at John- stone-eyed and trembling, and knelt beside the bed to touch your cooling hand. Kyle arrived moments later, lips parted as if he might beg you to wake. But his voice failed him and so he sat on the floor, pressing a kiss to your palm and weeping quietly into your skirts.

Johnny didn’t believe it.

He shook his head, muttering, “No, no, not yet, not today, she promised she’d stay-” over and over, until Simon caught him and held him still while he sobbed like a child.

The castle keened.

The bellflowers shriveled in their hanging baskets. The ivy browned and curled. The air itself bent with sorrow, and the spirits of the hallways- kindly, playful little creatures- huddled in corners, their small eyes wide with grief.

Outside, Thrain bowed his antlers low and walked slowly through the gates of the high keep. His hooves did not echo and no one stopped him.

He climbed the stairs, impossible though they were for a creature of his size, until he stood in the doorway of your chamber. And all the men- wounded and raw and grieving- stepped aside for they knew.

He had come for you.

With reverence, Thrain knelt beside your bed. He took in your face- still so gentle, still so full of grace, even in death. He pressed his massive muzzle to your chest and for a moment, nothing happened.

Then, with a breath of magic so quiet even the fae barely felt it- your soul slipped free like morning sunlight spilling through an open window.

It rose, soft and warm, radiant with the echo of every kindness you’d ever given. Every time you’d kissed a servant’s brow or sung to the garden or asked a crying will-o-wisp what was wrong. Every time you’d called Thrain your dearest friend, every time you’d held hands with the men, and every time you’d forgiven John with that smile- always that smile.

And Thrain caught your tender soul.

Delicate, light as wind through reeds, and glowing like the first star of twilight. He cradled it in a curl of his antlers, the shadows of your memory flickering through the air around him- your laugh, your hum, your gentle little sighs of thought. He stepped carefully back from the bed.

John sank to his knees, and he still did not cry. There was no breath left in him to do so.

Thrain walked. Out of the castle and through the mourning halls, the bowing dryads, the crumbling roses, the silent sprites. Through the gate, down the weeping forest paths, across the river that had frozen at the moment of your death.

He walked and walked, until no living soul would reach his pace and spot.

And when he reached it, the veils parted for him alone, and he stepped into starlight.

The trees there had no bark, only silver and the roots sang hymns and chants. The sky was soft and black and full of ancient light. Thrain stood at the edge of the great pool of souls, and he bent his head low.

He did not let you fall.

He lowered you with gentleness carved from centuries of patience and pain, until your soul touched the surface of the pool like the caress of a mother’s hand.

And the water welcomed you, for you were a memory that would never die. A memory that caressed the space between his antlers just before he returned alone.

And the men- your men- stood at the gates, waiting, and they bowed their heads as he passed.

And John, still dressed in the clothes he wore when you left him, touched the place in the air where your soul had once lingered and whispered, for the last time:

"I love you."

The castle echoed the words for centuries.

And the world, though emptier, remembered you in everything that still dared to be kind.

“Will you still love me when I forget what love is?”

“Always.”

[diz-eaze]

albedo and his alternative to baby trap you :(

; soft yandere, parent trap 2.0 but is it really babytrap if you lowkey told him you wouldn't mind a child (yes it still is), low-key delusional albedo, not proofread, throwback to fontaine's quest and albedo teaser #og,

the concept of breathing life into what was once an illustration is ludicrous. blasphemous, even. if the original hydro archon was punished for turning her familiars into a new race of humans, then is it not fair for an alchemist to be smithed down for a similar sin?

but the silence of the heavens has been going on for numerous centuries; it's hard for albedo to feel even a smidgen of fear, nevermind finding a speck of regret.

being born with special capabilities is rare. training under a great sinner of khaenri'ah is even rarer - it leaves him with skills that far surpasses even the average vision bearer. it grants him the power to tamper and play with the very notion of life itself.

a memory plays at the back of his mind as he settles down his painting materials, for once away from the frigid winters of dragonspine in favor of the fresh breeze found in windrise.

"the traveler told me of what happened in fontaine," albedo begins, gently taking the test tube you pass onto him. "of what became of their prophecy."

"oh?" you muse, now idly playing with the microscope lenses. "pray tell."

albedo settles his canvas down on the stable easel stand, taking out his paints and brushes in preparation. the ever-present wind blows through his messy hair, and he welcomes it.

"it would seem that fontainians were originally oceanids, only transformed into humans by the previous hydro archon." his eyes are trained upon the drops of sweet flower extract falling into the narrow test tube. "the prophecy was punishment for their sin."

"huh," you breathe out, placing down the lenses to look at him. he fights the urge to look away from his materials. "i can't tell if the arrogant one in this situation is the hydro archon or the heavenly principles themselves."

he swatches out each paint on his person, and he lines up the needed brushes for this personal project of his. the first brush, a round brush, is used to prime the canvas.

albedo finishes extracting the sweet flower and takes out a damp cloth to wipe his table's surface with. "why so?"

"think about it," you saunter up to him, leaning in unbearably close to survey his work. in this proximity, he can smell traces of cecilia flowers and windwheel asters on you. his grip on the damp cloth tightens subtly.

"the heavens think of themselves to be the absolute rulers of this world," you puff your cheeks out childishly. "yet they are more akin to tyrants. celestial nails, sins, punishments, the cataclysm... a creation of life is much tamer compared to the heinous acts they've committed!"

albedo mixes and matches his paints - a tint of red, a dollop of brown, tiny amounts yellow, and white added in moderation - in order to emulate the shade closest to your skin tone. his second brush, a flat brush, is used to lay down the overall shape of what he envisions.

"you think so?" he questions, relocating the test tube on its designated rack. he makes no move to inch away from you - not that he wants to, never. "but 'humans' who are not born from breeding are considered to be an anomaly. they are considered an outlier, are they not?"

not that he cares, may it be sinful or otherwise. he merely tells this to get a feel of you, to take a dive into your mind.

"i care little of how a human is produced," you huff out, leaning even more to disrupt his orderly workflow. he wonders how you'd react if he told you he wouldn't care should you trash his camp, so long as you continue to be shoulder to shoulder with him like this. "if it's sentient, it has life. i think all life should be valued, regardless of the creation method. the creations themselves didn't ask to be brought to this world, either."

his deft fingers scrapes paints together to match his hair next. only little tufts of hair for now. the brush dips into the water to be rid of its previous color, reborn anew into a clean slate. he pats it down with a spare cloth and goes back to painting once again.

"you're not wrong," albedo comments, eyes trailing after the flutter of your lashes. the body heat that emanates from you causes his synthetic one to gradually warm up, too.

he hesitates, then. licking his lips as if to buy time before he voices out the question stuck in his throat. you must have noticed his pause, for you peer at him in silent questioning. you nudge him slightly, and his body sways from the motion.

there is little he fears in this world. not when he was raised in the aftermath of the cataclysm, horrors unknown to normal people are found there. but the thought of your opinion of him souring slightly has his heart palpating in dread.

albedo leans closer to the canvas, intent on detailing the cherubic face as much as possible. focused on creating the perfect specimen that earns your adoration.

a beat passes.

"then," he looks down at his workspace, unable to find the strength to look you straight in the eyes. "what do you think of creating life artificially, from the likeness of your image?"

you blink once and tilt your head, though he does not see it. you crowd closer to him, now nearly chest to chest. if you inch even closer, he fears you'll fear the loud thumps resounding deep within his chest.

"a life... with my likeness?" you parrot back, still not comprehending him fully. then, your eyes widen, as if struck with realization. "oh! you mean your magical drawings, right? i still remember that vishap you created! i am dismayed at the poor thing's lower half, however."

his masterpiece is almost finished. sunset is near, and the wind is starting to pick up. it feels as if barbatos himself is advising albedo to stop with his actions. but not even the divine nail from celestia would tear him apart from this painting.

his mind was lingering more on the alchemical method. though, if this is the method that you prefer, then it will be what he goes through with.

"perhaps," still, he nods, "so, what do you think of it?"

you smile, a gleaming, precious one that surpasses crystalflies. "since it's a hypothetical, i suppose the idea would be cute."

the verbal 'hypothetical' is blocked out from his illusioned mind, for he locks onto your explicit agreement, even going as far as to call his idea cute.

he smiles, clearly pleased with your answer.

"i am glad to see you so enthusiastic about this," he parts away from you and begins to tidy up his workspace with renewed vigor, moving with a sense of purpose.

you confusedly look at his back, "about what?"

but you're met with no reply.

albedo finishes his painting with the last brushstroke being an eyelash of the infant. he steps back to observe for any errors made, but he finds none. excitement courses through his body, eager to bring life to this illustration. his mind is already running amok with all the domesticity he will soon witness you do.

his gloves hands reach into the canvas, surpassing the physical barrier as he reaches for the finished painting. it's similar to reaching into a void, but he knows how to navigate this power of his. when he tugs his hands back into reality, he is not empty handed.

in his hands is a crying infant, not just any infant, but his baby with you. within a few seconds after giving it life, the infant opens its mouth and wails.

he kisses the top of its head, endeared at the sight of pale blond strands.

"shhh, your father is here now."

he understands the original hydro archon now. even he would endanger the lives of others for the creation of life.

[rhaeheartzsquirrelz]

Peaceful as it Comes

Wife Sevika x Female Wife Reader (Fluff)

Domestic moments with Sevikidiki. More than one scenario with head cannons at the very end. :))

Content: Sevika has both arms. Modern Setting. Lots of being in Sevika’s lap and having her hug you from behind. Minor age gap.

Proofread || Note: DAY DREAMING ABOUT THESEE!! Ignore any spelling/grammar mistakes 🙂‍↔️

Breakfast with Distractions

You lived in out in the country with a small, satisfying, house that came with a lot of land. You had your own garden in the backyard, fueled by the river than ran through it. Early in the mornings you’d find yourself sat on a wooden chair, that your wife had built you, with a cup of coffee in hand. The sounds of the birds chirping, breeze blowing the trees, and the soft clinking from the backdoor opening would make the moment further more peaceful. It was your wife.

Sevika approached, standing behind you and staring down at your figure. You had on the dress she’d gifted on your anniversary. A red and white long, flowly dress which you matched with a pair of brown boots. Your wife said it was her favourite outfit, so you wore it often. The smell of her cologne filled your nose and she smiled at your cozied position. Legs pulled up to your chest, cup on your knees, with your hair flowing with the wind that flew by.

Everything was peaceful.

“Morning, you’re already out here?” Sevika broke the silence, brushing a hair from your lips. “Thought I’d finish planting the flowers, I’ve only got a few left.” You answered, watching as she leaned down to press a kiss on your forehead. “Y’have breakfast yet?” At her question, you flash a sheepish smile and raise your cup. Coffee was the only thing you’d had.

“Pancakes?”

“Yeah, pancakes sound good.”

Entering inside, you tie on your apron and pull out a pan from the cabinet. Your shared house wasn’t fancy, wasn’t fleshy built, but it was enough to satisfy your quiet life. Cracks were common, so were stains, and especially creaks. But it, honestly, only made it feel more like a home. Like you were actually living there.

“In my defence, I was waiting for you to wake up.” You muttered, mixing the milk and pancake batter. “And, you couldn’t of done that yourself?” Was Sevika’s sly response, with her hands on your hips she began swaying them. Guiding them alongside with her all the while peppering your shoulder with kisses. “Your wife’s a little busy.” Though you couldn’t resist it when she was so affectionate. “Oh? Is swaying your hips a distraction? Wouldn’t o’guessed.“ Sevika’s voice low and soft as her hands ran up and down your sides. “Did I say that?”

With the batter finally mixed, you pour some onto the heated pan and spread it into a circle. As the pancakes cooked, your wife turned you around and gave your hips a squeeze. “Still busy?” Forehead pressed against yours, back leaning against the counter with your hands now cupping her cheeks. You smiled. “Not as much as before, no.”

Your eyes met her pretty grey ones and you didn’t stop yourself from being pulled into a kiss. It was slow, just staring into eachother all the while sharing your breaths. Beautiful was what you called it. And when Sevika’s dark lips finally pressed against yours, your mind went blank for a moment. The pancakes didn’t matter. The flowers you had to plant could wait another hour. And, your grumbling stomach could kiss some ass. All you could really focus on was the soft taps your wife left on your lips. The way the warmth of her hands seeped through your dress and heated your skin. The way her breath felt against your face. And the way her lips tasted.

With a lingering peck on your lips, your girlfriend pulled back. “Love my days off.” She whispered, half her attention on flipping the pancake. “If it had burned I would’ve kicked your ass.” You joked, kissing her cheek one last time before going back to preparing breakfast.

“You’re a real distraction, babe.”

“And, you love me for it.”

Take a Break, Don’t ya?

Chores. Chores. Chores. And, some more chores. You’d made dinner, vacuumed the house, and even cleared out some of Sevika’s old papers from her office desk. Now, the last few things you needed to do were: clean the kitchen and sweep the floors. Those were easy tasks, and you were prepared to get them done.

Wiping the marble counters with a wet towel, you made sure everything was squeaky-clean. Made sure the ingredients were arranged perfectly, the sink was empty, and the dishes were where they were supposed to be. It took you about an hour, and in that time frame your wife had returned home and was freshening up.

A damp towel wrapped around her neck, she made her way to you. Wearing a tanktop and a pair of shorts, she looked exhausted. Sevika worked in construction, and that meant constant stress, sore muscles, and injuries. Though they were only minor, scratches and bruises were something you could handle. Not to mention how much muscle she’d put up, it was attractive. Made you horny even on your period.

“Haven’t seen you all day.” Her muscular arms tapping your backside to her front as she breathed down your neck. “How was work? Tiring as usual?” You, settling the pans and pots into the cupboard neatly, asked. Everyday was just as busy as the last, except for weekends; that’s when you and your wife could do whatever you wanted to.

“Y’guessed it,” pressing a heavy kiss on your cheek and pulling away to sit herself down onto the couch. “Hey, dinner’s ready. Grab a plate.” You’d already ate with content and now were waiting for your wife to. Afterwards, the two of you were free to talk and huddle up next to one another. “I will, just come here for a second.”

“You’re not the only busy woman in this relationship.” You flash her a look, tossing the towel into the washer before hanging your apron on a chair. There was more to do, and Sevika wanted you to relax with her? Well, you couldn’t really say no. Not when her legs were perfectly spread and her voice sounded so welcoming.

Plopping down onto your natural seat, your wife’s lap, you take a deep, long breath. It’d been a hot minute since you’d let your sore back slouch. Let your legs relax. “Take a break, alright? I know you’ve been at it for hours.” Sevika shifted on the couch, legs spreading further as she settled you inbetween them. It was like that everyday.

She’d come home, freshen up, and just sit with you for a few. It took your mind off of things, made your tense muscles loose. You appreciated how easily she could get. Also, because she said you’d have more wrinkles if you worked too hard. It was supposed to scare you.

Your cozy little home had one bedroom, one bathroom, and.. well, one everything. The two of you weren’t planning on having kids, not so soon anyways. Sevika knew she’d struggle with providing for them and you knew it’d only be a hassle. Considering you were in your early thirties and she was in her mid forties, she worried about you a lot. You were young and, sometimes, she even felt guilty for “taking away” your freedom. Which was a bit dramatic in your opinion. You chose marrying her, and you never regretted it.

“How was your day? ‘Nd don’t just say good, I know there’s more to it.” Your wife’s arm wrapped around your waist and she burried her face into your shoulder, inhaling your scent and savouring the closeness. Sevika was the kind of wife to call you every few hours when she was away, text you whenever she was on break, and even send you random pictures. Her selfies consisted her biceps, her coworkers, and silly faces. All taken for you to save and enjoy.

“My day? Well, don’t get me started on that creeky little door. I swear, everytime I open it it sounds like I’m in one of those horror movies. And, Sev, you promised you’d fix it and, again! You didn’t!” Your finger pointing to the storage room door that Sevika, somehow, broke by accident. She said she tripped and the whole door fell down. “I put some vegetable oil on the.. screw thingies. I saw it on youtube and, my god, it worked! At first I thought it was click bait but, to my surprise, it was the real deal.”

Your wife’s response to all of that? The occasional humm, a few chuckles, and an abundance of nods. She loved listening to you complain, even talk about the silliest things that happened throughout your eventful day. The thing she most adored was the fact that you’d tell her tiny details rather than the big ones. She remembered this one time where you were rambling on about something that had to do with the TV and had completely forgotten to bring up the fact that you’d cut your finger. You ended up getting a pink, princess bandage wrapped around your thumb.

“Alright, aright. I’ll fix it this saturday.” Her tone unbothered yet full of fondness. “Promise, love. Y’know I’ve been busy.” A laugh left her lips as she squeezed you with affection. It was like everything you did made Sevika completely and utterly happy. Be it wearing her favourite outfit, making her favourite food, or even walking around the kitchen, your wife found you pulling.

“Dinner’s gonna get cold, Sev. I worked hard on that thing.” Your hands giving her thighs a pat, you push off her lap and stand up— only to find yourself pulled back. “Where do you think you’re going? Few more minutes, we can always reheat?” She placed you sideways on her lap all the while nipping at your neck and causing you to giggle. “Vika! Eek!”

“Y’think you can escape me? Now I’ll have to eat you whole!” Her voice a playful gruff as her large hands began to tickle your sides.

“Hey! Hey! Not the—.. not the sides!”

Awsome-Sauce

The two of you decided to settle in an apartment, it was spacious and pretty damn expensive. And, Sevika being a business woman, she provided everything. From the rent to the groceries, it was her money you spent.

In return, the best you could give her was keeping the apartment clean and.. well, a home. Though, Sevika never asked anything from you— only your love and presence. That’s all she needed, and she’d told you that a million times. Whenever she was home, she wouldn’t let you lay a finger on anything that had to do with work. You wanna wash the dishes? Sevika’s alright got it covered. You need to fold the laundry? Your wife’s two steps ahead and even organized all the clothes. The kitchen’s a mess? She’ll be ready to scrub it clean. You never had to worry about a thing.

“Come on, it’s just sweeping. I do it every week day. When you’re not here? Y’know?” The least you could do was help the muscular woman who was cooking dinner, her hands busy with cutting the vegetables. “Nope, you’re gonna sit your pretty ass back on the couch, babe.” Her head turned to you, eyes narrowing at the sight of you holding a broom. “Babe.. seriously?—“ “Yes, seriously. You do s’much all week, take a break.” She motioned towards the couch before turning back to the cutting board.

“And you don’t? I mean, you’re at the office all week. Let me help.” Leaning the broom against the counter, you rest your head against her back and fiddle with her apron. Sevika’s response was a light chuckle, one that made you smile. “True that. But, I still don’t like it when you’re all.. occupied.” She placed the knife down and turned to you, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Sweeping is all you’re doing, okay?” Her voice was so sweet that it convinced you to do what she said, sweep and sit your ass down onto the couch. “Got it. Just holler at me if you need help, do not hesitate.” You pointed a finger before you reach for the broom again.

A solid thirty minutes later, your girlfriend nudged you. “Dinner’s ready, hope you’re hungry!” Her lips curled into a bright smile, your wife went back to cooking and went all out. Cutting the vegetables, choosing the spices, to adding other ingredients. From the back, she looked smoking hot. Her shoulders toned from her tight black shirt and her muscles clear as day. You wanted her to rip off her clothes and focus on you.

But that could wait.

“Alright, c’mon. Let’s eat.” Sevika’s hand guided you towards the dinner table where you sat down beside her. Yes, she preferred you being right by her side. “The usual. Rice. Hope you like it, baby.” Arm around your hip before she pulled your chair closer.

The dinner table was set perfectly, and you were almost jealous at how easily she’d made the food infront of you. It looked good, as usual, and you dug right in. You were a big fan of Sevika’s cooking, it was like a five-star chef had made it specially for you. You’d never get used to her iconic rice, it was always so flavourful. She’d never share her recipe, though.

Dinner was a blast, and now your stomach was too full. Spread across the couch, head on the arm rest as Sevika sat under your legs, she gave you a smile. “Ate too much?” Her large, calloused fingers massaging your feet. “Wayy to much. But, it was worth it. You make the best damn rice.” You were sure it was the brand of rice, there was no way she could get the consistency so.. perfect. “Good to know you’re satisfied.”

Oh, you were more than satisfied.

“It’s late, y’wanna head to bed?” Her mother-like tone causing you to lazily groan. You were exhausted, but sleep wasn’t exactly what you needed. “Not until you..” a grunt escaped your lips as you sat up. “Tell me your recipe.” Your back cracked like an old lady’s, and you straighten at the sound.

“Recipe for what? The rice?” Sevika pulled you into her lap, you inbetween her spread legs as she brushed back your hair. “There’s no recipe. I wing it.” You snorted at that. “Wing it? You? A business woman? Are you kidding?” No, she wasn’t.

Matter of fact, she was being completely honest. After watching tutorials online, Sevika had picked up on certain aspects of the amount spices she need and what temperature the stove should be on. It was all practice, in her opinion.

“I’m serious.” She gave your back a few rubs, hoping your stomach felt better by now, all the while her opposite hand gave yours a squeeze. “But, if you really wanna know? I use this sause from the store downtown, it’s pretty good.” Her lips curled into a playful smile as she gave your back a pat

“It’s called awsome-sause. Have you heard of it?”

You roll your eyes, shoving her in the side.

“You’re an asshole.”

Kisses

Throughout your marriage, Sevika had grown softer, gentler as you changed and opened further up to her. Like, your new favourite things, new interests, she loved every bit of it.

One change you’d noticed about her was the way she kissed you.

From rough, desperate make out sessions to light taps on your lips. Her tongue would feel the curve of your skin before she’d ask for entrance, compared to before when she’d demand for it.

Don’t get it wrong. You loved when your wife man handled you, took charge and dominated you. But sometimes, all you could really want was her loving side. The side of her where she felt that too much pressure would break you. Where she was so gentle with you that it felt unreal.

Her preferred position was with you sat on the dinner table, legs dangling down and inbetween her own. She’d hold onto your hips, squeeze and rub your skin there before making her way to the back of your head. One hand palming it as the other rested on the small of your back.

Before the kiss would start, she’d just stare into you and whisper a few sweet nothings. A good example being; “I’m the luckiest woman alive.” She had said that almost every day.

Your wife would then pull you into the most beautiful kiss you’d ever experienced. She was nothing like the rough and tough exterior she showed off, she was careful.

She’d often let escape soft, bare audible, grunts. A humm of enjoyment, aswell. She wasn’t embarrassed, just a little self conscious that it made you feel icky— which, it didn’t. And to show so, you’d cup her face and make sure she didn’t pull back. The gesture always made her melt.

Sevika’s breath smelled like cigars and whiskey, the occasional sugar cookie that you’d bake for her. She couldn’t keep herself from loading up on those, that woman would take ‘em everywhere she went.

The few things you’d feel were the way her tongue moved so perfectly against yours, always leaving you squirming. It was something about the way Sevika would groan everytime you did so. Another thing being her lips. She’d used your lip balm and, at first, she didn’t think anything would happen. But, after a few more uses her lips looked plump and shiny. You couldn’t resist giving them a few rubs with your thumb and even a peck of a kiss.

[shouyuus]

I’m having a real kick out of cowboy Vi rn and was wondering if mayhaps, if you’re feeling like it, write some headcannons or maybe a lil blorb about it?

I just keep imagining being out in the field, staring up at the stars and shuuuucks the kisses might have gone too far. Save a horse, ride a cowgirl 🤠

i feel like i must prequel this by saying that i know nothing about cow-anything and that i've exclusively grown up in metropolis-type cities. but that being said. i do have a certain appreciation for the aesthetic and all the cowgirl!vi fanart i've seen's got me feelin' sum typa way, as they say.

you blow in like the summer wind, low over the horizon and kicking up all sorts of stardust, so of course, vi's been enamored ever since. you're a city-girl, anyone with half an eye could see that. but vi's never been the type to mind. and when asked, you weren't shy to admit that you're just here for the summer, just here for a little fun in the sun --

so that makes it easy, doesn't it? cause summer's made for stuff like this -- all that heat and dreamin'. all sweet tea and none of the leavin'.

"you can't see stars like this in the city," you tell her one night, laid up in the back of her bright red pickup, the desert stretching out on all four sides for miles and miles and miles around.

"yeah? bet you can't. but... i figure there's probably other stuff to look at in those big cities of yours," vi says, turning her head.

"sure... lots of big tall buildings, and metric fucktons of pigeons," you say, giggling. vi laughs, shifting so that she's facing you. all around you, the wild chirrup of cicadas rock the sand-strewn night this way and that. a second later, you turn to face her too, smiling in the syrup-ridden dark.

"metric fucktons, huh? that the official measure for tall buildings?" she asks, chuckling.

"sure is," you reply inching just a bit closer.

it's been weeks, and vi's spent too many sunlit afternoons wondering about the taste of your lips to question it when you lean in to brush your mouth against hers. you taste like seasalt and lipgloss, and vi's sure her own lips are way too chapped, but when you press in just a bit closer, she finds that she doesn't really give damn.

"been wanting to do that for a while..." you admit, pulling back. and like this, vi figures she can count all the summertime constellations caught beneath your lashes like jars of wayward lightning bugs.

"me too..." vi breathes, tugging you in for another kiss, and then another. when you break apart, she licks her lips and grins at the way you chase after her, toppling into her chest as she leans back, and the whole truck rocks with the weight. you let out a startled laugh, and she, another soft chuckle.

the wind tangles lazy fingers through the branches of the old juniper tree behind vander's farm and in the distance, the fwoosh of a diving nighthawk rends the air. a cluster of sparrows startles out of a nearby bush, their wings flapping against the star-scattered night, and vi finds herself lost in the bewitching sparkle of your eyes as you look at her, and look at her. she doesn't think she's ever been looked at like this before.

heat roils in her stomach as she clears her throat. faintly, she wonders if all city-folk are so shameless.

"so..." you say, your lips twisting up as a fox-fire glint catches behind your eyes, "what else have you been thinking of, hm?"

vi clears her throat, "oh... bit o'this, bit o'that..." she casts her gaze up and prays for strength. she catches a whiff, just then, of your perfume, something soft and sweet, but not like flowers -- no, something warmer, a strange, heady concoction that sends her head spinning.

some big-city magic, she thinks, beating down the urge to roll her eyes at the thought.

"oh yeah? would it be easier just to show me?" you ask, batting your lashes, rolling your hips down slightly against hers, "what's that saying now? save a horse...?" you let your voice trail off with a salacious grin.

and this time, vi really does swear --

"sweet jesus on a bicycle --" she laughs, shaking her head, "you're gonna be the death of me, aren't you?"

you shrug, leaning forward to brace your arms over her shoulders, the shape of you cast against the gathering night like some sort of desert mirage. vi licks her lips, feeling her mouth blister dry as you run your fingers through her hair, her hat long since abandoned too the wayside.

"didn't know jesus rode bikes... always thought he was more of a donkey-guy, myself."

at this, vi snorts, giving your hip a hard pat, "right, c'mon then."

you pout, listing your head, "what? no more stargazing?"

vi cocks an eyebrow, grabbing her hat as she swings out of the bed of the truck, reaching up to offer you a hand.

"well, as much as i love the thought of eating you out seven ways to sunday in the back of my truck... i think your delicate city-girl disposition might like a mattress just a bit better, hm?"

you blink, your mouth falling open into a perfect little 'o' of shock, before color floods your cheeks and you nearly topple out of the truck. luckily, vi's there to catch you, chuckling as she sets you on your feet.

"what happened to all that bravado, hm?

your crinkle your nose, defiance flickering behind your gaze as vi leads you back towards the house.

"that's not fair -- you caught me off guard is all," you say, tucking yourself into vi's side as she helps you side-step a dogwood plant.

"sure i did, princess."

you huff, glancing up at her even as the pair of you finally reach the soft ring of light cast by the large farmhouse stood in front of the massive juniper tree. vi pauses just before you reach the front steps to let you hop up on the first one, turning to grin at her, your eyes now finally at a level.

she thinks the bright twinkle of mischief caught there looks terrifyingly like falling in love. or perhaps, just the falling bit.

you bite your lips and rock on the balls of your feet. vi waits, her breath caught like a wild horse hoofbeat inside her chest.

"so," you say, your voice the perfect mix sugar-cube and snake-bite, "if i ride you tonight, would that make me a cowgirl too?"

vague continuation found here

[crushpunky]

actress!reader, drew, and break up rumors

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

based on this ask. also used a fake username for drews insta because i dont want impersonate/fake a real person lol warning: period pains and some mental health struggles

The last week had been hard for y/n. Her bones felt entirely seeped in fatigue and tiredness, the sharp cramps brought about her period not helping. Despite the fact all she wanted to do was curl up in bed all day with a heating pad, she had meetings and commitments that forced her up and out the door each day.

She’d just gotten back from a lunch meeting with discussions about a potential audition and was already drained. Y/n shucked her shoes off before flopping down onto the couch with a sigh. She wished Drew was here. All she wanted needed right now was to snuggle up on the couch with him and watch some cheesy old movie.  He had decided to run to his mom’s to help her clean out the basement, insisting he had to help to ensure she didn’t throw away any of the “gold” they would inevitably find buried under boxes of photos and old basketball trophies. He had also taken Charleston with him, the dog always happy at an opportunity to run around in a backyard bigger than their own, meaning y/n was left entirely alone in her and Drew’s house.

A sudden cramp knocked the wind out of her lungs, her hand shooting out to grip onto the couch. With a groan, she rose up to her feet before slinking into the bathroom. After digging through the cabinets she found some pain medication, swallowing the pills dry as she braced herself against the countertop. Y/n attempted to steady her breathing, tears brimming in her eyes as she tried to push down the anxious thoughts of auditions and schedules and appointments.

Suddenly, however, she was pulled out of her ruminations by the sound of a car door closing. Y/n moved out of the bathroom, rushing down the hallway until she finally made it to the front door. She flung the door open, greeted by Drew, his arms full with boxes as Charleston scurried through the door.

“Hey—” Drew said, but was cut off as y/n wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a crushing hug. He shifted the box in his arms, allowing one of his hands to wrap around y/n’s torso to smooth along the small of her back.

“What’s going on?” Drew said, pulling slightly out of the hug to get a good look at y/n’s exhausted and teary face. She shook her head, resting her cheek on Drew’s cheek with a sigh.

“Just tired,” y/n murmured against the fabric of Drew’s t-shirt. “Missed you.”

“Once I get these boxes in, I’m all yours, a’ight?” Drew said, pressing a kiss to the top of y/n’s head. Y/n looked up at Drew with a small grin, Drew pressing another kiss to her nose before entering the house to put the box in. 

“I’ll help.” Y/n said, his hand still resting along the small of her back as they made their way out to Drew’s truck. The bed was filled with various boxes, all filled with everything from scrapbooks and picture frames to flower vases and a lamp.

“I look like I’m moving in.” Drew chuckled as he picked up another box.

“Or moving out. I’m tired of your snoring, Starkey, you’re out.” Y/n teased, her under eyes still a bit puffy despite the smile now adorning her lips.

“You’re kicking me out?” Drew groaned, tossing his head back in faux dramatism. Y/n giggled, taking a box from the truck before bumping her hip against Drew.

“I’d never kick you out, who would I have to annoy all day?” Y/n said, looking up at Drew as he grinned back at her.

Luckily y/n didn’t have anything planned for the morning, her and Drew staying up late (or late for them, considering they both were usually in bed by 10) eating popcorn, drinking wine, and watching shitty movies. However, her morning of sleeping in was interrupted when her and Drew’s phones began blowing up with concerned texts from friends, family members, and managers.

“What is going on?” Drew said with a groan, lifting his face from the pillow. Y/n blinked, adjusting to the bright sunlight as she turned over in bed. Drew’s arm was flung across her stomach, his fingers brushing against her ribs as she reached for her phone.

baby im so sorry, im here if you need to talk :( did you and drew break up ?!?!??!??! what did he do? ill beat his ass. what is going on rn ? I thought you and drew were good ?!

“I… I’m confused.” Y/n shook her head, trying to understand the text messages before she switched over to Instagram. Immediately, she was greeted with the post that answered her questions:

Y/n groaned, running a hand through her bed head before she turned her phone around for Drew to see. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he leaned in, letting out a small chuckle as he looked at the picture.

“I mean… it doesn’t look good.” Drew grumbled, flipping over to his back before scooting up to sit against the headboard. He rolled his shoulders out, his toned and tanned arms stretching out before coming to rest around y/n.

“This is the last thing I wanted to deal with right now.” Y/n sighed, flopping over to rest her face against the skin of Drew’s stomach.

“Well, it could be a lot worse.” Drew said, resting a hand in y/n’s hair. He played with pieces of it, his fingers combing through the strands.

“How so? Everyone thinks you're single now.” Y/n said, peering up at Drew. “Do you know how many people I will have to fight off now?”

Drew chuckled, patting his hand against y/n’s cheek as he let out a pitiful “awww” at the pout in y/n’s cheek. Y/n rolled her eyes dramatically before falling back into Drew’s lap.

“Don’t you worry.” Drew said, reaching over to the nightstand with a groan. He grabbed his phone, quickly swiping past the bombardment of notifications to go to Instagram. With a smirk on his face, Drew snapped a picture of y/n. After typing out a snarky caption, he pressed “post”.

Y/n’s phone dinged once more, her lifting her head to see the notification on her screen.

drewseph has tagged you in a story

“What did you do?” Y/n said, narrowing her eyes at Drew, who shrugged innocently.

“Nothing.” Drew said simply. “Just solved our problem.”

[whore4mattsturniolo]

IFLY- Dealer!Chris x Stoner!Reader

pt 2, pt 1 (can be read as a standalone but why would you)

DO NOT ANSWER Missed call

Your heart twanged in your chest as you heard Chris speak for the first time in weeks. His gravelly voice, stained with sorrow as slurred words slipped off his tongue. There was no real way to tell if he was genuine, if he actually felt bad for what he did. Even though a part of you was screaming to block him, to never speak to him again, there was another part of you. The part of you that Chris had in the palm of his hand, desperate to see him and feel his touch on your skin.

You had debated on calling him back, eager to see what he would say if he wasn't just recording himself talking. If he would tell you what he wanted to hear, face to face. But you didn't. You silenced your phone, and you went to sleep. He'd call back. Or he wouldn't. You couldn't bring yourself to care anymore.

knock, knock, knock

You blink yourself awake, shirt bunched up around your chest, blanket wrapped around your shivering body spread out on the couch. The TV is still playing, the low laugh track of an old sitcom echoing through the silent house. Your eyes flutter back shut, your brain determined to shut itself back off for the night, assuming that the knocking was from the show. No reasonable person would be awake right now, banging at your door at 4 in the morning.

knock, knock, KNOCK

The noise at your front door grew more insistent, causing you to groan in annoyance. You swing yourself off of the couch, your feet still wobbly from lack of use as you step on the soft carpet, walking towards the front door. Glaring into the small peephole, you see a figure dressed in all black, his head darting to look around his surroundings. He was holding something in his hand, but you couldn't quite make out what it was.

You rub your eyes, adjusting your appearance to look somewhat presentable, despite the fact that it was so early that no one, not even the mourning doves, were awake right now. The cool metal of the doorknob sends a shiver down your spine as you swing the door open, only to find Chris standing there.

This cannot be real

He flashes you a toothy grin, one hand stuffed in his pocket, the other holding up a bouquet of pink roses. They were fresh, still wrapped in plastic and dripping water into a puddle on the ground. Each one was perfectly bloomed with a blush pink exterior that faded into yellow as it swirled in the middle. You're completely stunned at the sight, still holding onto the door handle like its your saving grace.

"Hey, baby," Chris says, looking up into your eyes. "Y'busy?" A small smirk tugs at his lips as he admires your disheveled appearance. Your hair tied up, messy strands falling over your face. Your shirt hung loose on your frame, the collar hanging loose off your shoulders. Your eyes red and dry, still adjusting from the sudden jolt of being woken up.

"Chris, it's 4 in the morning," You throw your hand on your hip, leaning against the door frame. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Told you I was gonna bring ya flowers," his smile grows, holding the flowers out closer to you. "They smell good huh? Wanted to get the best ones f'you. Know how much you like pink and shit," his blue eyes have a sense of longing in them, carefully watching your expression to see how you'll react.

He knows he's ridiculous. But he also knows you'll let him in.

You cross your arms, looking at him with low eyes, not bothering to hide your sleepiness. Goosebumps rise all over your skin as the cold wind blows into your apartment. "You bought me flowers?" Your eyes soften slightly, but you keep the sternness in your voice. You're not gonna let him in that easily.

Chris nods, still sporting a small grin as he sniffs the flowers for himself. "You got the voicemail?

You raise your eyebrows, looking him up and down with skepticism. "I did."

"You didn't respond."

"For good reason."

Chris' expression falls into a pout, looking down at his shoes, a blush spreading across his cheeks. His beanie hands low over his head, containing his messy locs and covering his eyebrows. "Yeah...yeah...I know..." The silence between the two of you was deafening, the sounds of the night filling the quiet.  The only noise was the staticky hum of the flickering light over the stairs of your apartment complex and the laughter from your TV.

"Why are you here, Chris?" You cross your arms, guarding yourself off from him. "What could you possibly want from me?"

"C'mon, angel...I told you... I was gonna make it right," he steps closer to you, his voice laced with sincerity. "This is me...tryna make it right."

You squint, trying to see through his mask, trying to figure out his true intentions. But you can't see anything. He chews at his bottom lip, his hand still stuffed deep in his pocket. He's never felt this anxious before, and he's hanging off your every word. Gently, you move away from the door frame, motioning for him to come inside. Chris's head shoots up, a small smile spreading across his face as he steps inside.

He rests the flowers on the table in the living room, watching as you stand across from him. "Y'wanna talk?" He asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets again. He leans against the table, squinting his eyes slightly.

"Talk about what?" You say, picking up the roses and taking them to the kitchen. "Didn't know there was anything to talk about," you set them into a clear vase on the counter, holding back a smile at the sight. He did pick out the perfect ones.

Chris follows you into the kitchen, leaning against the countertop closest to you. "Me neither. But I've been thinkin' 'bout you. A lot," he points a finger at you. "I made you cry, kid. And I never...never want that t'happen. Never want you to cry 'cause of me," he reaches his hand out to touch you, but it just drops to his side.

"I just wanna make it right," He's growing closer by the second, his breath warm against your skin. He smells of alcohol and cologne, and you can't get enough of it.

He backs you against the sink, his fingers tracing patterns along your arm and shoulders. His breathing starts to grow heavy, his eyes moving down to your soft, plump lips, now formed in a pout. He leans forward, but you pull back. "Chris, I can't...I can't do this with you again..." You say softly, pressing your hands into his chest and pushing him back. All he does is hold your wrists, keeping you close. "You hurt me, Chris. Hurt me so bad I couldn't even get out of bed. I can't--I won't let you do that again," your words leave a pit in Chris' stomach. He just wanted to make it right. Make you feel right. Why were you being so difficult?

"I won't, mama, I won't. I...I promise..." He leans forward again, his lips just millimeters from yours.  "Just lemme make it right..." his voice is an intoxicating whisper as he lets out a shaky breath.

Warm tears form in the waterline of your lidded eyes, but you blink them away before they slide down your cheeks. You were just...tired. Tired of the back and forth, the mixed signals, the heartache. You just wanted him to be better.

He holds your face in his hand, the coldness of his finger tips sending chills down your spine. "I know, I know you hate me. Want nothin' t'do with me. But, please," Chris was almost begging at this point. "Just...just let me make it up t'you...Make it alright…" his voice grows hush as his other hand moves to cup your cheeks, his eyes darting between your watery eyes and your parted lips, before capturing you in a soft kiss. Your lips move slowly against each other, as if they hadn't felt each other in decades. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip, begging for entrance, and you let him, your tongues dancing together elegantly. He grabs your waist and swiftly sits you on top of the counter, moving in between your legs. A soft moan leaves your mouth as he trails sloppy kisses down your neck and collarbones.

“Fuck—get these off—Need ‘em off…” Chris pulls back from the kiss, both of you breathing heavily. His lust-filled eyes peer into yours as his fingers toy with the waistband of your shorts. You nod, and he pulls off both your pajama pants and underwear in one swift motion. He lets out a moan at the sight of you, legs spread open, pussy dripping wet just for him. His hands grip your thighs tight, pulling you to the edge and into another feverish kiss, the pads of his fingers rubbing against your aching clit, earning a needy moan from you. He swipes his digits up and down your soaked heat, collecting your arousal in his middle and ring fingers.

He suddenly pulls back, dropping to his knees with a thud. He holds your legs open with his calloused hands, kissing every inch of your thighs and legs. He looks up at you from the floor, the iris of his eyes completely gone, replaced with his wide, blown out pupils. “C-Chris…” You gasp, watching him suck and nip at your inner thighs as he ignores you, staring hungrily at your pussy. You clench around nothing, begging with your eyes, silently pleading with him as a smirk creeps across his face.

A drawn out moan is ripped from your chest as Chris presses his tongue flat against your drooling cunt, licking a long stripe up to your clit. A trail of his spit and your arousal connects his mouth to you as he moves his head back, barely holding back his own noises as he stares at your glistening pussy. “Taste so good…So fuckin’ sweet,” he groans as he dives back into your cunt. His grip on your thighs is harsh enough to leave bruises, not letting you move away from him for even a second.

The sinful sound of slurping fills the apartment while Chris laps at your pussy, his eyes never leaving your face, contorted in pleasure. He closes his soft lips around your bundle of nerves, humming against it and making your eyes roll back. You rip off his beanie, discarding it on the floor and tugging at his messy hair. Chris moans at the sudden sensation and starts to suck harder at your clit. His hand releases your thigh, pushing two fingers into your tight pussy and curling them just right. 

He closes his soft lips around the tiny bundle of nerves, humming against it and making your eyes roll back. You rip off his beanie, discarding it on the floor and tugging at his messy hair. Chris moans at the feeling, sucking harder at your clit, desperate for you to reach your high. His hand releases your thigh, pushing two fingers into your tight pussy and curling them just right. 

You were seeing stars, your back arching off the countertop as you try to squirm away from him, needy moans and whines leaving your mouth. “Chris, Chris, Chris!” You chant his name, your grip in his hair growing tighter as he slides his digits in and out of your sopping cunt while licking and sucking at your throbbing clit.

“I know, baby, I know,” he whispers, the vibrations of his low voice shooting straight through you. “Feel good, huh? Can feel you fuckin' squeezin’ my fingers.” He lets out a breathy laugh, watching you rest your legs on his shoulders and pulling him deeper into your pussy. 

“S-So good—Fuck!” You throw your head back, legs starting to spasm as the coil in your belly grows tighter with each second. “M’gonna—Shit! Baby, baby—Gonna cum!” You cry out, damn near crushing Chris’ head with your thighs. He only hums, smiling against you while he shoves a third finger deep in your pussy, your orgasm hitting you like a giant wave. Your juices paint Chris’ face and chin, still lapping at you through the pleasure as your face contorts, your body shaking violently.  

Breathing heavily, Chris finally pulls away from you, wiping his glistening lips off with the bottom of his black shirt. He stands back up to look at your twitching figure, laughing softly to himself. “Can’t tap out yet, mama,” he says, picking you up and taking you to your room.

He throws you onto your bed, pulling off his shirt and climbing on top of you, pressing the painful bulge in his jeans against your soaked heat. His hands cup your cheeks and pull you into a harsh kiss while you rush to pull his jeans down. You can still taste your release on his lips, but it only turns you on further. "Lay back, baby. Wanna see that pretty face while I fuck you, ” Chris pushes you down into the mattress and props your legs up, opening them up wide for him. He rips his boxers off, his cock springing out and slapping against his stomach. His tip was red and angry, strings of precum leaking down his length. 

He leans over to you, capturing your swollen lips in another kiss. His chain dangles in your face, the freezing gold brushing against your skin at his proximity. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as he rubs the head of his cock over your slick folds, coating it in your juices. “Gonna make y'feel alright,” he whispers in between sloppy kisses.

Slowly, he nudges his cock over your pussy, gently pushing it inside you. The two of you moan in sync as he moves deeper, feeling each bump and vein, inch by itch. Chris refuses to look away from you, staring into your eyes with longing, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “C’mon baby—fuuck—Keep those pretty eyes on me. Jus' do that for me..." Chris groans as he bottoms out, his eyes never leaving yours. He presses another rough kiss to your lips, one hand on the headboard and the other resting gently on your cheek. The familiar squeaking of the your bed grows louder as his thrusts start to pick up speed.

“Y’still mad at me? Huh?” He coos as he adjusts positions, sitting up on his knees and grabbing at your hips, forcing himself deeper. The new angle sends your eyes back into your skull, and leaves you a stuttering, moaning mess. “Y’still fuckin’ hate me?”

You nod your head despite the pornographic moans leaving your mouth. His pelvis bumping against your clit in a fast rhythm, connected by a thin trail of both your arousals. You try to speak, but all that leaves your mouth is broken moans. “Hate—you—"You manage to choke out through whines, though you both knew you were lying.

Chris laughs, watching your brain go fuzzy as you lose yourself under him, still desperate to hold onto the bit on control you thought you had. “Mmm...that so, baby? That the truth?" With his free hand, he rubs your aching clit with his thumb, sending jolts of pleasure to your head. His words spur you on further, despite the fact that you can feel yourself growing more and more annoyed each time he speaks.

Whining at the added stimulation to your clit, you nod weakly, too fucked out to say anything. You can barely force a small "uh huh," as your body starts to tremble beneath him. His grip on your thighs grows tighter, not letting you move away from him.

Chris's grin grows wider, his movements never slowing. "I don't believe that...for a fuckin' second. Not when I got you goin' stupid on m'dick like this. Can't even get fuckin' words out—hah—shiit..." His words get cut off by his own groans. He throws his head back as his jaw goes slack. "Guess I just gotta fuck it out of you," high pitched moans leave your mouth as his thrusts grow rougher, somehow hitting that spongy spot deep inside you every time. Your tits bounce harshly, in sync with Chris' every movement.

"Missed y’so fuckin’ much—” His movements stagger, already growing close to release at the sight of you under him. Your velvety walls throb around his cock, making him throw his head back. “Couldn’t stop thinkin’ bout this perfect fuckin’ pussy…Squeezin’ me—mmm—so fuckin’ tight…Wanna fill her up so bad,” his other hand cups your face, kissing your lips gently, a contrast from harsh pace of his thrusts.

Your eyes start to roll back and your body starts to tremble. Chris' movements start to stagger, each thrust growing ragged as his moans grow louder. "You gonna let me baby?" He coos, holding your hips in a death grip. "Gonna let me fill this pretty pussy up? Make you all mine jus' like you wanted?"

"Yes, yes, please, baby..." You nod weakly as your brain starts to go fuzzy, your orgasm quickly approaching.

Chris grins at your words, his breath growing labored as he pumps into you, his thrusts slow and passionate, desperate for you to reach your high. His thumb circles your clit, drawing a ragged moan from your chest as the coil building in your stomach suddenly snaps. Your back arches high off the bed, your legs shaking violently.

"Fuuuck baby, ohmygod..." Feeling your tight walls pulse around his cock sends Chris over the edge, groaning as spurts of cum shoot out of his cock into your cunt, coating your walls in white. "So fuckin' good...needed this...so much..." He moans, his thrusts slowing down, still pumping his seed as deep as it can go. He leans forward and kisses you sloppily, pulling your body close to his.

Chris brushes the hair out of your face, his eyes half-lidded with a smile stretched against his face. He rolls over to the side, his arms never releasing you from his grip. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, taking in your scent and sighing. "M'sorry baby...For everything..." his voice is muffled, but you hear every word.

His heartbeat thumps soothingly in your ears, causing your eyes to flutter shut, comforted by the feeling of his skin on yours, his body wrapped around you. You let out a content sigh as you smile against his chest and nod slowly.

"I know."

fic long asf, this a @muwapsturniolo special <3

[blackjackkent]

More explorations through the parsed dialogue files. The nymph in Sharess's Caress (the one whose Fist client turns into a mind flayer) offers you a "moment of ecstasy" in return for saving her life - and apparently there are some character-specific dialog options for all of the origin characters (minus Lae'zel and plus Minsc) regarding their deepest desires. And I'm kinda having a lot of feelings about it.

Naoise Nallinto: The all-being. Here, there is no suffering. Here, you want for nothing. Here, you are anything. You have one word. Tell me: what will you be?

DARK_URGE: Sane. Naoise Nallinto: You are sane. Time dances on in sequence, the winding path of time evens, and becomes straight. With a quiet head, you can once again hear the song of the birds and the wind in the grass. You pluck a flower, and it does not bleed.

SHADOWHEART: Whole. Naoise Nallinto: You are whole. Within and without, free from expectation and the crushing burden of solitude.You are the entirety of you. Every path outward leads to adventures yet unknown. Every path inward leads to dreams eternally fulfilled.

ASTARION: Safe. Naoise Nallinto: You are safe. The winds of fate blow you to the warmest of hearths in the most cordial of inns. Your seething passions lead only to pleasure. The touch of the sun comforts your flesh, but never burns it.

KARLACH: Alive. Naoise Nallinto: You are alive. Your senses vibrate with sensation - smell, taste, touch, sound, sight. All alert to the beauty of now. The sound of your heart - your heart - beats a steady rhythm: Hello, hello, hello.

GALE: Wise. Naoise Nallinto: You are wise. The erudition of the ages flows through you and from you, illuminating the scholars who seek your counsel. You know yourself, for such is the beginning of all wisdom. When souls would drink the waters of learning, you are their font.

WYLL: Free. Naoise Nallinto: Then be free. You are an eagle, the most divine of messengers, soaring above the peak of Mount Sundabar. No man or woman, no devil or demon, no goddess or god dares confine you within one border or one creed.

MINSC: Minsc. Naoise Nallinto: Er - you are Minsc. You are the most Minsc. Wherever you go, there is only Minsc. Every step, every breath, every thought shall be - the Minsc-est. (DEVNOTE: Confused but making it work.)

[ultravi0lence14]

Thoroughfare

DEAN WINCHESTER X DOE!READER

WARNINGS: sexual content (MDNI), fingering, hair pulling, finger sucking. first smut, pls i know it’s bad🫣

SUMMARY: with a light whisper of ‘do you wanna see the west with me?’ dean had you right where he wanted; by his side and sitting pretty in the front seat of his car.

WC: 3.3k

the humid air of the western skies lingered on your skin, bringing a humid and sticky sheen to your arms and shoulders. dean had all the windows rolled down, a testament to the light breeze that broke through the stickiness of montana.

your cotton tank top stuck to your skin, slick sweat making you feel like it had melded with your body. the cutoff’s you wore weren’t any better, adhering to your thighs like glue. the stubborn weather of a mid july afternoon didn’t allow for any cold; no chill wracking you through the bone, only a sickly, immobilizing heat that crashed through your senses and made it’s way into your dna.

though some part of you didn’t seem to mind. the rolled down windows allowed you to stick your head out the open space, wind blowing in your hair as you took in the blurred and rolling sights of crooked leafless trees and dried up fields.

dean wasn’t any better. one of his hands rested on the steering wheel, long nimble fingers clutched tightly so he could steer you to wherever the road leads you two. his other hand — firm in it’s grip, rested on your thigh. his fingers travelled into the inside of your leg, fingers delicately dancing across the seem of your shorts as his eyes stared at you from his peripheral vision.

you were ethereal, an angel sent from God just for him. your hair, unruly in how the wind tossed it about, was flowing behind you like a fairy with her wings. the side profile of your face was directed towards dean, your back facing the passenger side door as you stuck your head out in the placid and dry air.

the fullness of your cheeks was properly on display to dean’s eager eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to run his lips across the skin, brushing delicate kisses onto your cheeks and face until you were covered in his love. he could faintly see the plump pout of your own lips, eyes shimmering with admiration and desire as he pictured running his tongue across them; your soft lips pressed timidly against his as he pulled you into his body, almost swallowing you whole.

he loved you, so incandescently. you were the face of beauty, a true goddess in the eyes of the eldest winchester. it wasn’t just your delicate features that pulled dean in, it was the way you carried yourself, a graceful mist following you wherever you went.

softness rolled off of you in tidal waves, and dean loved how your gentle nature contrasted and grounded his frequent pessimistic and grumpy behaviour. the human embodiment of a doe; a creature full of love and life, who walked through flower gardens erupted by spring like it was her calling.

it didn’t help that your eyes resembled one of the animal; big and round, always so soft and caring. he loved you so much, it physically made his soul ache.

you were always there for him, never wavering even when times got tough. you didn’t love his job, believing that hunting was dangerous and the stem of all of his childhood and lasting trauma. but dean always waved you off, saying that this was his life, and he would never do anything that would jeopardize a life and future with you.

but he could still see the emotional tole it was taking on you, weighing on your heart like a heavy burden that you shouldn’t be carrying. he ached for you to feel secure in this life that he was giving you, but dean also knew that everyone needed breaks. so, he decided to give you one.

a couple nights ago, the two of you found yourselves tangled in the sheets of a nebraskan motel, limbs intertwined as dean embraced you in his arms, your fingers drawing small hearts on his chest.

“let’s go to california.” the random outburst from dean had you pulling away from him slightly, lifting up on your elbows so you could get a better look at the man who’s eyes glimmered with hope and mischief. “what are you talking about, dean?”

“what i’m trying to say is,” dean sat up as he spoke, resting against the headboard and grabbing your hips so he could pull you into his lap. “let’s go to california. you are always begging me to go to malibu, and you deserve a vacation every now and then.”

the smile on your lips was beaming, a shine that could light up a thousand skies. dean wanted to bottle it up, put it in a jar, and never let it leave his side. he felt your hands move to his shoulders, those big, beautiful eyes staring at him with unbridled excitement. “you’re being serious right now? this isn’t just some sick joke?”

“no jokes baby,” he drawled, hand brushing your soft hair away from your face. pulling his face closer to yours so he could brush his lips against your ear, dean whispered so softly you believed you were imagining it. “do you wanna go see the west with me, pretty girl?”

you were elated the whole car ride, excitedly babbling about all the things you two would do in the golden state. as the nights rolled into days, the air started to get more and more humid, which led to the very moment that dean was in now. he shook his head from the memory of how he got here, watching your smile take up your whole face as you giggled at something unbeknownst to him. he didn’t really think about the why, he was too busy getting drunk on the sound of your laugh.

lightly patting your thigh, dean grinned over at your windswept and sticky frame as your giggles danced alongside the flow of the wind. “c’mon crazy girl, get back in here. can’t have you falling out.” his words held a joking lilt, yet you could see the concern in dean’s eyes. with a joking huff, you retreated back into the car, legs immediately sticking to the leather as the hot air melded your skin like sticky glue.

“oh c’mon dean, it’s so hot.” you groaned out, another giggle rippling through your lips as you saw dean playfully role his eyes in your peripheral. “i can basically feel my skin melting off.”

“you’re so dramatic,” his teasing was palpable, you could feel it in the way his smile reached his eyes and how his fingers clutched a little tighter onto your thigh. “what do you think cali’s going to be like, baby? think it’s going to be an ice box?”

letting out a grunt as you smacked his arm, dean watched with love struck eyes as your grin got impossibly even more wide. “you’re such a jerk, dean winchester!” dean swore he has never smiled harder in his life than when he was with you. that sweet, playful nature always brought out the best in him, and he didn’t even dare think about a life without your brightened presence.

crossing your arms over your chest, those pretty pink lips dean loved so much puffed out in a pretty pout. dean’s hand itched on your thigh, wanting to reach up and pull down your bottom lip. “i’m prepared for the weather in california, dean.” your voice broke him from his revere, making dean slightly cough as he intently listened to your ramble

“we won’t be spending all the time in the car. we’ll be at the beach, santa monica pier — oh i’m so excited for all the rides!” the vibrant glimmer of your excitement shined through the car, hitting dean straight in his heart, spreading until it was pumping through his veins.

“yeah, no rides, doe.” the previous excitement in your eyes dwindled, a shocked expression breaking through. “what? we have to go on the rides dean! it’s almost like a birthright.” he just loved how you expressed yourself, loving how when you defended the things you loved, your eyes got wild and your cheeks tinted. it was such a pretty sight, though dean was starting to believe everything about you was pretty.

dean’s words came through his lips in a chuckle, a grin etched onto his face as he looked at your pretty features. “i don’t do rides. never have, never will. sorry, sweets.”

shaking your head in disdain, a sad pout decorated your face, turning towards dean as he continued to drive down the desolate, montana road. “you’re such a buzz kill, do you even know what fun is?”

your question was a joke, your voice light and airy as it always was, but this time with a twinkle of comedy. but dean was already so wound up from the image of how pretty you looked with the wind blowing in your hair, illuminating you like a framed painting, that an idea slid into the depths of his mind.

a smirk adorned his lips as he shifted the wheel, pulling the impala off to the side of the road. your face twisted up in confusion as dean pulled the gear shift into park, cutting the ignition and turning his body to face you. your lips parted in question, about to voice your thoughts before dean’s hands grabbed at your calves.

with a squeak from your lips, dean hauled your legs onto the front seat, moving your body so your back was leaned against the door. he then tracked his fingers down the smooth expanse of your skin, grabbing at your ankles and pulling you down until you laid flat on your back.

the space was cramped, but dean somehow found a way to make it work; bending your legs at the knees and spreading them open so he could fit in between them. words were lodged in your throat, a sputter of air leaving your lips as dean situated himself. he had that shit eating grin on his face, and you could already tell that he had something wild up his sleeve.

“dean!” you exclaimed, hands going to rest against his chest as a laugh erupted from your lips. “what are you doing?”

he just smirked, trailing his hands from your ankles up your thighs, one hand gripping your waist as the other worked to pop the button of your shorts. “just showing my girl how fun i can really be.”

the words that fell from his lips were amplified with the sound of your zipper undoing, and your eyes widened suddenly at the realization of what dean had in mind.

“we can’t do this now, dean.” you exasperated, hands pushing at his chest as his fingers worked to take off your pants. “someone could drive by, they could see us for christ’s sake!”

dean just leaned down to leave a lingering kiss on your forehead, shimmying the waistband of your shorts a little ways down your waist before his hand on your hip shifted to go under your ass. “no one’s been on the road for miles, sweet thing. we’re alone, everything is going to be okay.” his words were followed by the softening of his eyes, the hand that had been undoing your zipper went up to stroke your cheek. “do you trust me?”

sliding your hands up from his chest to around his shoulders, a soft, serene smile graced your lips. you brought your face upward, brushing your mouth against his as the shallow breath’s leaving dean’s lips hit your own. “of course, i always do.”

you felt him smile against your lips, placing a delicate kiss on your nose before he pulled back slightly. “good,” he breathed, hands going back to your waistband. “now, lift your hips f’me, baby.”

a dusty blush adorned your cheeks as you obliged, hips lifting slightly as dean slid your jean shorts from your legs. when they got to your ankles, dean helped you kick them off, picking them up and throwing them somewhere in the backseat with a grin.

“that’s much better.” words wrapped around a grin as his fingers dipped into the waistband of your panties. the giggle that left your lips at his comment turned into a shallow whimper as one of his fingers dipped into your folds, his fingers slipping through your already wet cunt.

a breath left dean’s lips, eyes blowing wide as he watched your face twist in pleasure from the finger he had down your pants. “jesus, sweets, you’re already fucking soaked. did i do this to you? was it my words and my finger that got you this wet?”

a high pitched ‘mhm’ left your lips as you nodded your head, eye’s half lidded as you watched dean stare down at his finger teasing your folds. moving the finger that was teasing your entrance towards your clit, lightly pressing down and eliciting a sharp moan from deep in your gut. “there’s my girl,” dean cooed, his fingers moving in tight circles on your sensitive bud. “you’re doing so good for me baby, such a good fucking girl.”

the sensation was overwhelming, a shot of bliss the curled in your gut and wound into your soul. your half-lidded eyes caught sight of dean, his head down as he watched the way his finger played with your clit. the mid-day sun was washing over his figure, bathing him in such a light that made him look almost angelic.

as dean pulled his finger away, you felt a sense of emptiness unfurl in your stomach. a deep whine left your lips, hips lifting upwards to try and chase the high that dean was providing you. “more dean. please, give me more.”

“patience, pretty girl.” his voice was soft, but there was an air of demand and dominance that hid behind the cracks of his voice. “i’m just getting started. didn’t know you were so needy for me.”

another whine tore from the depths of your throat, whimpering as dean slid the side of your underwear out of the way, exposing your cunt to his eyes and the cold air that was whirling through the car’s vents. a groan rumbled in his throat, your eyes half lidded as you watched him put the finger covered in your slick in his mouth.

“jesus christ, you taste like a fucking dream.” his words sound slurred, and they were heightened as two of his fingers went back to your leaking pussy, prodding at your entrance as tiny whimpers left your throat. “i can’t wait to see how you look stuffed with my fingers, gushing all over my hand like the good girl i know you are.”

the whine that would’ve left your lips at his words turned into a deep moan, dean’s middle and pointer finger entering your tight walls, his own ragged breaths mixing with yours as he felt you clenching around him.

he watched as your breathing grew ragged, chest heaving up and down as you gripped onto his shoulders for dear life. he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so dean waited until you gave him the green light, his other hand smoothing down the hair the fell in your face.

after a couple of moments, he felt your hips rut into his hand, eyes screwing shut in pure pleasure. that was all he needed to thrust his fingers into your tight walls.

high pitched whimpers left your lips as dean’s fingers prodded at your cervix, a guttural moan leaving your lips as he brushed against your g-spot.

“there it is,” he breathed, hollow breaths leaving his own lips as he watched his fingers go in and out of you. “that’s the spot, isn’t it baby? you like it when my fingers make you feel good?”

all you could let out was a guttural moan, hands clawing at dean’s clothed chest for any sign of resolve. too caught up in your own pleasure, you didn’t realize that dean had forgotten to roll up the windows, your loud moans and whines flowing through the wind and alerting anyone who drove by about what was going on inside of the impala.

but in the moment, you didn’t seem to care. dean started to move his fingers faster, your hips rutting up to meet the frenzied pace of his hand. the coil in your stomach was starting to tighten more and more, and you couldn’t help but scrunch your eyes closed and slightly turn your head as the euphoric feelings started to intensify.

though that didn’t last for long, because without a warning, the hand that dean had previously used to smooth down your hair tangled in it’s strands, gripping tightly as he pulled your head upwards so you were face to face with him.

“open those pretty eyes for me, sweetheart.” his voice held that same softness with a lilt of dominance, fingers quickening as he felt your orgasm approach. “i wanna see you when you cum. see how good i make you feel when i fuck you with my fingers.”

your eye’s shot open, lips parted and heavy pants and whines leaving your throat as dean kept going with the relenting pace. “i can’t- fuck, dean! i’m gonna cum!”

the pace at which dean’s fingers were moving inside of you was relentless. each thrust of his fingers hitting your g-spot as his piercing green eyes stared into yours. at your words, he moved a little faster, lips brushing yours as his voice travelled from his lips to yours. “c‘mon, my sweet girl, come for me.”

you could feel it, the bliss that started in your core and creeped it’s way into your entire body. the coil in your stomach tightening and tightening until, like a crashing wave, it gave way.

you came with a loud cry, back arched and head leaning into dean’s hand embedded into your hair. you watched as dean kept moving his fingers inside of you even as you gushed around his fingers. he was transfixed, completely enchanted by the bliss that took over your face.

“there you go,” he cooed, the hand in your hair lessening as his fingers started to slow down. “pretty girl, all messed up, coming on my fingers. you look fucking unreal.”

his words were mixed in with the small whimpers that left your lips, mouth parted and cheeks flushed with bliss. there was drool running down the corners of your mouth, and you felt as dean took his hand out of your hair and wiped it away with his thumb.

you whined as he pulled his fingers out, feeling empty without his fingers deep inside of you. looking down, you watched as your juices spilled out of your entrance, dean immediately dipping his two already wet fingers in the mess and putting them in front of your mouth.

“open up for me, doe. want you to taste yourself on my fingers.” with wide, wet eyes, you parted your lips for dean to place his two fingers on your tongue. when you closed your mouth, sucking on the two digits, you felt as the pads of middle and pointer finger prodded at the back of your throat.

“that’s my girl.” dean breathed out, watching in awe as he stared at your pretty face sucking your juices off of his fingers. he swore you weren’t real in that moment, too good to be true. yet as you swirled your tongue around his fingers, he realized that you were his, and he was yours, and he wouldn’t trade that for the world.

as you came down from your high, dean cleaned you up with a napkin that he found in his centre console. when he was done, he helped you sit up, moving your underwear back into place and allowing you to take a breather.

realizing your shorts were in the backseat, you leaned over the seat to try and find them, jumping as you felt dean land a smack on your ass.

“jesus dean,” you laughed, grabbing your shorts and sitting back down. “can’t get enough can you?”

“when it comes to you?” he grinned, turning the car back on and starting to pull back onto the street. “i can never have enough,”

TAGS: @haunteres @starzify @floralscented @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @honeyryewhiskey @foolinthera1n @vaiieydoii @bluemerakis

NAT BABBLES: i’ve been so wrapped up with my angel series, that i wanted to reset and write a little dean story. also, this is my first time writing smut, so i know it’s probably ass, but just bare with me😭

[soangelbaby]

Heya baby! I'll be your first request (I've no clue how many are in your inbox), but how about if Clark sees best friend!neighbour!reader changing through her window? How would he react?

eek i’ve actually been working on something soo similar to this so this is right up my alley fr 😏

clark watching his bestfriend who is his neighbor change through her window, he’d absolutely relish in it. first time would be an accident, he’d be stargazing with his lil telescope, but then he sees you out the corner of his eye and he’s completely caught off guard, but can’t seem to tear his eyes away.

you’d be fresh out the shower, hair still damp, white towel wrapped around your glistening body, maybe you just got home and haven’t even bothered to close your blinds, completely oblivious to the man watching you on the other side.

you wouldn’t jump straight into changing or finding clothes, you’d sit at your vanity, doing your skincare before bed, moisturizing your hair, and clark would be watching oh so intently, following your every move—he knows it’s wrong, he knows he’s invading your privacy, especially as his best friend, he shouldn’t be looking at you like this, his parents raised him better.

but all that guilt isn’t enough to beat his curiosity, waiting, hoping, you drop the towel, he imagines it falling slowly, just enough to tease him,—wait he has x-ray vision… he could take advantage of this moment right now, and so he does…

while you began blow drying your hair, moving around your room to find a close enough plug, clark started to strip you with his eyes, one flicker of his x-ray vision, and boom—you’re completely bare. clark’s breath hitches as he adjusts his telescope slighty, his free hand drops down to his aching dick, palming himself through his jeans. his eyes almost pop out of his head at your frame, your perfect tits sitting so nice for him, the dip of your spine, the curve of your ass against your little white vanity seat. a tiny flower tattoo on your hip, shit—it’s enough to make him finish right there, his cum seeping through his clothes.

he’s going feral. his hand speeds up, his breath grows heavier, his heart rate increases. “fuck..” he mutters under his breath. his eyes squeeze shut—i mean you’re his bestfriend, he had no business looking at you this way. but all he can think about is if you knew… if you knew he was watching you right now, eye fucking you as you wind down for bed, knew how bad his dick aches for you, how he imagines sliding in and out of your tight pussy, if you knew that he was completely invading your privacy, thinking of all the ways he could take advantage of you… that should be enough for him to stop, to pull his hand away from his throbbing shaft, to shake off these foul thoughts and feelings about you. but it’s not…

instead, it turns him on even more. he imagines the shock on your face at the sight of him so undone for you. would you be disgusted by him? would you feel betrayed and hurt he’s peeking in on you? completely disregarding your friendship and his morals, just defiling it. or would you like it? would you strip for him through your window? would you tease him, knowing just how bad he wants you—fuck that—needs you?

clark lets out a guttural moan as his head drops back, “sh-shiit, fuuck” he makes out as he finishes. his pink lips parted, his cheeks flushed all the same, and his body trying to catch up with his mind. he can’t believe himself, the guilt washes over. he tells himself never again, that next time he won’t let his ‘curiosity’ get the best of him.. but the next morning? he’s sitting at that telescope, his hand already tugging at his shorts, watching you change and get ready for the day…

a/n ; luv this, kinda ties into my pervert clark hc and its just sooo chefs kiss like i want him to stalk me so bad…anywhoo hope you enjoy