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peachpitfics · 6 months ago

Text

Cruel Summer

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Following your romp with Benedict Bridgerton in his art studio, he asked your brother for your hand! Now you're on your honeymoon, and you're getting a little bored, posing for him. A lady must find ways to amuse herself!

Length: 2.1k

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving), Penetrative vaginal sex, unprotected sex, light bondage, food play.

a/n: This is an anonymous request for a continuation of 'Guilty as Sin'.

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

Benedict Bridgerton escorting you to view his artwork, at his private studio, was just the beginning of your story. After sneaking around behind your family’s backs for a small while, Benedict gathered enough courage to ask your eldest brother’s permission for your hand. This seemed strange to the y/l/n family, not one of them had ever seen the two of you together, which showed how much attention was paid to the middle child. Benedict made sure to ask you in the Bridgerton drawing room, just before family tea, for everyone to see. He made such a big to-do, confessing his love to you, before every member of the Bridgerton family in attendance. It felt particularly safe there, amongst people who took interest in who you were as a person.

It was bittersweet to have siblings who offered their time, their attentions, and their hobbies freely. You learned so many new things from each of them, from pall-mall, to sewing, even horse riding. In six months, you were married and moved into the Bridgerton house for the meantime, until after your honeymoon. You would never outright tell Benedict you did not want to move out, but he felt it, he knew.

“My love” Benedict whispered, shaking your shoulders gently. Honeymooning in Paris was something the two of you had instantly agreed upon. So far, two weeks of sleeping late, making love, and eating copious amounts of divine food was your only concern. Of course, there were a lot of other lovely things Benedict had planned for your honeymoon – river boat rides and romantic dinners, every moment between locations filled with fine bread, wine, and cheese.

“Yes, my love?” You grumbled, rolling away from him, clearly having not had enough sleep.

“You must wake up, it is midafternoon!” Benedict exclaimed with a chesty laugh, rolling you back into him and tickling your sides. You howled with laughter, pushing him away playfully, leaning up to distract him as only you knew how. His lips were warm and wet against your own, seductive, and luscious.

“You must come downstairs! The housekeeper has left us a feast and I wish to paint my gorgeous wife” Benedict slid his hands around your naked body, lifting you out of bed as you groaned.

“Again?!” “My darling, I’ll be painting you until death takes me” Benedict chuffed, sliding sideways between doorways and down the stairs to the sitting room.

“What if death takes me first?” You smirked back, figuring you had him cornered here.

“I have made God promise I am to go first. And even so, I’ll have every detail committed to memory and these paintings and sketches of you now to keep me company” Benedict squeezed you in his arms, he didn’t like to joke about parting ways, in any sense. It was his truest nightmare, his deepest fear.

Benedict set you down in the sitting room and gestured to what he and the house keeping staff had readied. Paint, canvas, a staging area - littered around the room were bowls of fresh fruit, bottles of wine, candles surrounded by plates of cheese, oil, and bread. You relaxed back against his chest, his arms wrapping around you, cupping your breasts sweetly. You giggle a little, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. He nodded to your position for the rest of the day, a chair with the back faced to a very high window, casting a streak of sunlight down upon the spot.

There you sat, for hardly an hour before your mind began to wander, circling Benedict in your mind like a shark in open water. You had learned to become comfortable being nude for long periods of time these days, however Benedict had learned nothing of your persuasion or power when your attentions were dashed. Your movements started slowly, daintily taking your hands to your knees, and spreading your legs wide upon the chair. Resting a little, relaxing your back and cupping your own breasts. Your fingers gently grazing your nipples. But nothing, no attention from your husband. He sat close to his canvas, squinting into the detail of his work, his realm of perception clearly inhibited. With a huff and a light moan, you continued to palm at your own breasts, fingers trapping your nipples in a pulling motion- you decided to pretend Benedict wasn’t here. Suddenly, taking notice, you watched as his brush left the canvas, his mouth hung open a little and he removed his glasses, almost tossing them to the floor.

“What are you doing, darling?” He mumbled, swallowing hard. Your hands ran down your mid-section, over your belly and down your thighs sensually, soft mewls slipped from between your lips. Benedict loved the sounds you made.

“I’m just amusing myself, continue on with your painting my dear” Your replying comment was nonchalant in the best way. Benedict almost looked offended that you would suggest he could go back to painting.

“How do you suppose I paint, while my wife ravages her own body before me?” He blinked at the audacity of you.

“Well, dear one, this is what you have chosen for this afternoon’s activities… Now, you must endure” You smiled, sliding your hand between your legs, dipping your finger in the wet warmth there. Benedict shuddered, wishing any part of him were exchanged with your finger.

If there was anything you had learned about Benedict in the last six or seven months, it was that his desire for you was consistent and all encompassing. Benedict watched on as your fingers circled your clitoris, you moaned and exhaled gently - his paint brush never did return to the canvas. Beads of sweat formed on his brow line, the hot, French summer finally taking its toll in the late afternoon. You reached to the small stool next to you, extracting the tiniest jar of honey. You looked into Benedict’s eyes, holding the jar above your body, dangling your head back and pouring a steady stream of honey over your chest. The sun glistened, reflecting little pools of light off your sticky, sweet skin.

Taking your finger, you swept up your belly from your navel, placing your finger on your tongue in clear view of him, and that was his very last straw. Benedict threw his paintbrush to the ground, thrusting himself up and out of his chair, to march across the room to you.

“What do you think you are doing, wife?” Benedict’s voice rasped, his eyes were so dark, the colour had all but gone.

“Playing, my love” You replied cheekily, sucking another nip of honey off your finger. He all but growled watching your finger slip between your lips, his breath quickening in sheer lust for you.

“Are you punishing me for getting you out of bed?” Benedict’s face was so close now, his nose tip to tip with yours. There was such tension in his jaw, his teeth clenched hard in his fierce need of you. You fluttered your lashes back at him, refusing to answer with your words.

“Do you have even a semblance of an understanding of what you are doing to me? This is unbelievably cruel,” He breathed heavily down on you, desperation flooding his body and adrenaline surging behind, “You can’t begin to imagine the things I want to do to you right now” His stubble gliding across your ear and cheek, making you shudder.

“Show me then,” You challenged, “You are my husband after all”.

Benedict’s hands slowly moved to his shirt, shedding it, and throwing it somewhere behind him. He acted with a sureness and a strength you hadn’t yet experienced, but it was drawing you in. Undoing his pants, Benedict took his hard member into his hands, stroking himself against your chest, lathering it in honey. His other hand wove into your hair, tangling the perfect hold, bringing you forward.

“Oh. Goodness. Seems I’ve made quite a mess of myself… Wife, help me clean it up” He smiled smugly down at you.

Something feral, untamed, was unleashed inside you, your eyes darkening, “Certainly, my lord”. As your tongue reached out to meet his tip, his head lulled back in pleasure, his hand still wrapped around the base of him. Your lips parted slowly, encasing his first inch, and swirling your tongue around to suck the honey from him. Benedict exhaled headily, his breaths deep, but quick with the slightest grunt mixed in. The way he sounded, even now, made you wetter and wetter.

There was something maliciously keen in Benedict’s eyes as he watched from on high, your pretty mouth sucking all the honey off him and then some. His body gently rocked forward, his hand heaving your head forward, onto him in a more perverse manner. His head hung back in greedy caution, grasping to the very last straws of his gentlemanly nature as you sunk to the base of him, your tongue wriggling slyly underneath.

His fingers grew taut in your hair, reefing you backwards. His laugh was low, both impressed and challenged by your ministrations. In the next moment, Benedict had hauled you up and over his shoulder, he was charging up the stairs, mad with temerity.

Entering the bedroom, he threw you down on the bed, scrambling for any piece of material in reach, he began ripping. Four pieces of silk fabrics in his hands, he loomed over you in profound ownership. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, Benedict taking each wrist and ankle, tying them to each to their respective corner post of the bed.

“There” He stood, hands on his hips, proud of his work, “There’ll be no more of that”. Clearly touching yourself had had a dire effect on Benedict’s work ethic.

Kneeling between your thighs, his naked body unjustly out of reach, Benedict’s supercilious smile sick with goofy dominance. He thumbs over your folds, his finger descending, extorting whines of pleasure you never knew existed within you. Broad strokes of the most painful, unapologetically evil gratification. Benedict’s tongue flicked over his lips hungrily.

“I need you” The words escaped you violently, the thrill of his touch, his charming smile becoming all too much for you. He ignored you and continued another moment or two, reducing you to a begging mess beneath him.

“Shall I oblige you, my marvellous bride?” His grin was jubilant and all knowing, his hands came down on your wrists, pressing them into the bed. Benedict’s brutal, familiar kiss sown into your lips permanently, as he pushed inside of you with surprise.

“Y/n” He groaned, growled with unrepentant lust. Your eyes cast wide, the length of him stretching you mercilessly while he thrust in and out. His villainous face claiming your entire consciousness as he used your body to his pleasure, decadent facial expressions, and damnable sounds he was delivering straight to your right ear.

“You feel unimaginably perfect” Benedict groaned, your moans joining in alongside his.

Hands grasping for silk to hold onto, you longed for your own release, grinding your hips back against Benedict’s. His movements became more ferocious, keeping up with the sounds you were making. Frenetic energy began to move through your body, your ravenous thirst for him finally quenched. Every muscle in your body engaged in vivid contortion, Benedict pressing into you as deeply as he possibly could before his own body found its own powerful release.

Covered in sweat and honey, you laid tangled together for a moment before Benedict recalled your wrists and ankles were tied. He chuckled with giddiness, sitting up to admire his knots.

“You look fantastic like this, perhaps we should do this more often” He suggested sweetly. His thumb caressed the side of your face, your panting, tired body unable to give a response. Benedict littered your face and neck with loving pecks.

“We could be one person and I still would never be close enough to you. No amount of time with you will ever satisfy me. You are the centre of my world” Benedict whispered gently. Every day you were reminded of the intoxicants his poetic mind dabbled into every sweet thing he said to you.

In another instant, Benedict had sprung from the bed, running downstairs. You laughed, thinking he must be returning with some of the food the housekeeper had left strewn about his romantically planned afternoon. Instead, Benedict returned with a new canvas and his implements. Your mouth fell open all on its own, blinking furiously in his direction as he set himself up off the side of the bed.

“If you could just stay there, like that, that’d be great!” Benedict’s grin, excruciatingly exquisite, and concocting. He held himself with such pride in his agendum, cockiness seemed to fill the room in a potent manner.

“BENEDICT!?” You squealed, tugging frantically on his bindings, your laughter filled with rich resolve.

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tagging: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr //

If you'd like to be added to this tag list, please let me know!

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happilyhertale · 6 months ago

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Fire and blood - Daemon Targaryen x wife!reader

Author’s note: Before I got into my usual summary, this fic is part of a collab with a bunch of my lovely moots! @lady-phasma came to us with an ask about period sex and Daemon and being as lovely as she is, she offered us all the chance to collab on it. Choosing our own characters and how to play the story.

Please find the masterlist of everyone's fics here.

English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Summary: You haven't been married to your husband Daemon Targaryen for very long - but you've learnt to enjoy your marriage to the Rogue Prince. But unlike normality, you haven't sought out Daemon for a few affectionate visits throughout the day, and that makes him suspicious…

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x wife!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Period smut; fingering (f in v), p in v sex - implied

Word count: 2.2 k

Other stories of mine

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Daemon opens the door, but only darkness reveals itself to him. He raises his eyebrows slightly, but steps into your shared chambers. He is looking for his wife, who has been by his side for several moons now.

During this time, he has already become accustomed to you seeking him out throughout the day, sometimes just to get a little peck and sometimes because you want to tell him something - but today you have not sought him out.

His heavy footsteps sound in your chambers as he walks further inside.

"Are you hiding from me, woman?" he murmurs.

He walks over to a small table with fruit and sweet dishes on it. He takes a bunch of grapes between his fingers before letting them disappear into his mouth.

"Has another moon gone by?" he asks into the room and turns to your bed, where he recognises the outline of a figure under the covers. A slight grin plays around his lips before he walks towards the bed.

But as he gets closer, he picks up an unusual scent.

"What's that smell?" he asks.

And suddenly your voice rings out, "It's oak bark tea... My abdomen is a cramp," you mumble from under the covers.

He's still smiling and comes closer to the bed.

"What have we got here? I wonder what trouble could be brewing under here," he says, reaching lightly for the blanket.

"No... Go away," you say quietly and try to hold the blanket tight.

But Daemon pulls the blanket down further and kneels on the bed with one knee.

"Ah... there you are... what a view," he says sarcastically as the blanket reveals your face. Your hair lies dishevelled on the pillow, your face a little sleepily puffy as your annoyed gaze meets his. "Yes....my beautiful wife," he says and smiles. He pulls the blanket down further and a "Go away," sounds from you again.

He smiles at your words, "Why would I do that when I have such a sight in front of me?" he says, a hint of sarcasm still in his voice again.

You sigh and try to turn away, but you feel Daemon kneel down further on the bed and his hand grips you gently.

"Ah, ah, ah," he says and lies down next to you, his arm wrapped around your middle.

His warm breath brushes the back of your neck as he presses his face into yours, "What's wrong," he whispers.

You sigh again and already feel his large, surprisingly warm hand on your abdomen... a warm touch of your dragon.

"I'm bleeding..." you say almost inaudibly, but Daemon hears your words and smiles slightly. He knows how you feel during your period. You're vulnerable and sleepy. The cramps force you to lie down and only warmth and strange teas from the maesters give you some relief... well, and other things.

But you're his wife and according to him, you should always feel carefree - but he can't refrain from teasing you a little.

"Pardon?" he whispers, smiling slightly, while you sigh lightly again.

"I'm bleeding..." you repeat your words and mumble into your pillow.

"Love..." he whispers again.

You close your eyes and feel this inner tension that tickles your fingertips.

"I'm on my period," you say a little louder into the pillow.

"Love... Sorry, I don't understand," Daemon replies and his lips graze your neck.

His behaviour makes you seethe, why can't he leave you alone?

"Daemon! Seven hells! I'm on my period! I'm in pain and I'm bleeding!", you call out and raise your head slightly.

He chuckles, "It's fine... no need to shout like that..."

You shake your head slightly, wanting to push his arm away, but he has a firm grip on you. His hand slides slowly downwards, his fingers make light, circular movements and you stiffen slightly.

"Daemon, what are you doing," you suddenly whisper.

"I want you to feel good, love... It'll help you relax..." he murmurs into your ear, nibbling lightly.

You gasp and hold his hand back, "Daemon... there's blood... a lot... it's the first day..." you say hesitantly.

He continues to nibble on your earlobe, his fingers sliding along your thigh, not in the least impressed by your words.

"You know there's nothing to be ashamed of. A woman's body is a natural, beautiful thing.... It's beautiful because it's you," he kisses your cheek and lets his nose glide gently along it. His hand strokes along your thigh and you feel a slight throbbing between your thighs alongside the numbing pain in your abdomen.

"Do you want me to take care of you?" he whispers, kissing the soft skin behind your ear.

You bite your lip lightly, but you shake your head slightly.

"Daemon... There really is a lot of blood..." you repeat your words quietly.

He chuckles softly again, another kiss landing on your neck, "Love... a true warrior isn't afraid of a little blood..." he murmurs.

His hand slides further, "Just relax..." he whispers and you try. Slowly, you close your eyes and try to concentrate on his touch as a heavy breath leaves your lips.

Gently, he kisses your neck and shoulder as he holds you close."It's nothing to be ashamed of either. Especially not my wife. It's natural," he whispers in your ear.

His fingers pull your nightgown up, very slowly. His fingers leave a fiery trail on your thigh and you try to ignore the dull ache that runs through your abdomen.

You can't suppress it, your hips begin to move in slight circular motions as his fingers glide through your pubic hair, caressing you. You gasp as you can already feel his arousal from behind as he presses himself lightly against you.

His fingers reach their destination, slowly running along your folds, and you gasp again – your legs spread slightly.

"That's it... I'll take care of you..." he whispers in your ear and you nod slightly.

The sweetest moan escapes your lips as his fingers find your pearl and apply light pressure. Your legs spread wider and a smile graces his lips.

"Daemon..." you gasp.

"I know..." he whispers, nibbling on your earlobe again as his fingers rub gently over your clit.

"Your body is natural and beautiful. Even in all its bloody glory," he whispers and you nod, your breathing quickening.

He kisses you on the cheek again as his fingers tease over your glistening entrance, gently spreading your folds.

You feel the familiar stretch as his fingers slide inside you. But not all the way in, he teases you a little and you exhale heavily, your hips moving towards his fingers, longing for his touch. And then he fulfils your craving – his fingers stretch your walls, trying to find a good angle, pushing deeper. He revels in the slickness that coats his fingers, the evidence of your arousal mingling with the blood that flows.

"Feel how wet you are for me," he whispers teasingly, his smile pressing against the back of your neck.

"Daemon!" you gasp, but also a small moan leaves your lips.

He chuckles briefly, but your concentration is once again fully on his movements as his fingers penetrate deeper.

"Gods..." you gasp and he grins. Slowly, but firmly, his fingers push forward. He can feel your walls clench, longing for release.

"You know I love all the sounds you make, but I love your moans the most. I can feel your walls tighten around my fingers as if your body wants to hold me inside you while I make you tremble..." he whispers in your ear.

You moan again as his thumb grazes your pearl. He continues his expert ministrations, he is determined to make you forget the discomfort, to lose yourself in a wave of pleasure that only he can provide.

His fingers curl inside you, beckoning you as his thumb presses against your clit again. You press your arse against his hardness and he moans into your neck. As he feels your hips moving towards his fingers, urging for more, he complies, increasing the intensity of his movements. He curls his fingers, angling them to hit that sweet spot within you, knowing exactly how to drive you wild with desire.

"Moan for me…" he commands, his voice laced with dominance, "Let me hear your pleasure, let it echo through these chambers."

And you obey as his fingers thrust deeper. He bites into your neck as his fingers tease your walls. His fingers continue their exploration, delving deeper inside you, seeking out the spots that make you writhe with pleasure. He maintains a steady rhythm, his touch skilled and attentive to your body's responses.

Smacking noises echo in your chambers as his fingers pump in and out faster. His fingers sliding in and out of your wetness with ease. With each thrust of his fingers, he can feel the slickness and warmth of your arousal, heightening his own desire.

He starts to apply more pressure and lets a third finger slide in. He knows what you like and he gives it to you the way you need it. He stretches your walls while they continue to clench around his fingers. Daemon's eyes gleam with a mixture of desire and possessiveness as he feels your response to his touch. He revels in the power he holds over your pleasure, his fingers moving with a practiced precision.

"Oh, my sweet wife," he murmurs, the words laced with a mixture of possessiveness and anticipation. "You are so responsive, so eager for my touch."

His body presses against yours, his hard length grinding against your backside as he continues to pleasure you with his fingers. His lips find your ear, his breath hot against your skin. Your fear of smearing him with your blood is forgotten, you need more.

"Daemon... Daemon," you whimper again and again, your arm reaching back, to the back of his head. Your fingers reach into his silky hair and he grunts. As he continues to drive you towards the peak of pleasure, Daemon's own desire grows, his need for release becoming undeniable. But at this moment, he's focused solely on your pleasure, on taking you to the edge and beyond, on helping you forget your discomfort.

"Yes... my love... Come on, come on my fingers, milk them like you always milk my cock when I fuck that delicious cunt," he growls into your neck.

And that pushes you over the edge. You cry out, your walls tightening around his fingers and Daemon grunts out.

You whimper, your hand gripping his hair tighter as he kisses your neck. Your eyes are closed, your breathing rapid as he pulls his fingers out when your walls stop clenching. A pleasant warmth flows through your abdomen, soothing away the pain more effectively than every maester's tea could.

As you catch your breath, you glance slightly over your shoulder and look at Daemon. He chuckles as he looks at his fingers, they're covered in blood.

"This is a sight I couldn't have imagined at the beginning of the day..", he kisses your neck again, "But I'm going to enjoy it“, he whispers into your ear.

"Daemon, no!" you say with wide eyes.

He just grins as you avert your eyes and blush. You hear the smacking sound as he licks his fingers.

But now you have to laugh as you stare at him again – his eyes are closed and he seems to be enjoying it.

"You're impossible..." you say softly as he still licks his fingers.

"Daemon, stop it!" you say and giggle, but he just grins and pulls you closer to him again.

"Delicious," he murmurs.

He starts stroking and caressing your belly again.

His breathing slows down as he holds you close. The sounds and smell of you, your little body in his embrace, it's almost more than he can bear at this moment.

He gently grabs your chin, as if he were holding something fragile and precious, and gently pulls your head upwards. When you return his gaze, it is gentle and tender.

"And you are my wife. You may feel sick, you may bleed, sometimes I may even be the cause of your anger. But that's all part of your body's natural rhythm. So please, my sweet girl, never hide from the pain, never keep your misery a secret. Otherwise, I promise you, it will cause me more grief than your blood..." he says gently. These moments with him are rare, but you savour them – your lovely husband. You lean towards him and let your lips slide onto his. He growls slightly and you feel his hand on your arse. You giggle slightly and feel his smile on your lips.

But the grip on your arse tightens and he pulls you towards him, positioning you perfectly against his crotch. He still can't hide his excitement and you gasp slightly. Your lips are still dancing around each other, you can feel the coppery taste on his tongue as he starts to undo his trousers. He growls again as his hand spreads your cheeks slightly and presses his hardness between your thighs from behind. You whimper as his cock slides along your folds.

"Let's see if we can give you a little more relief, shall we?" he growls against your lips and you moan as the tip of his cock presses against your slick entrance.

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nymphea0 · 4 months ago

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Until Death My love

Part 2.

Yandere husband x Wife Reader

Very long story, might be bad grammar or language in this story, so please correct me if theres any bad word or bad grammar. This story will came out with 4 chapter , so stay always love🦋🦋

word count around : 2000 words

Story Part 1 : Until Death My love

Story Part 3 : Until Death My Love

The sound of many vehicles and street lights were the only things that decorated the darkness of the night' You don't know how it could end like this, there are so many moments that you have gone through with Alex, your beloved husband.

It shouldn't be like this, but it happened so fast.

That night as usual, you became an obedient and very good wife waiting for your husband to come home from work, you prepared dinner that you cooked yourself, even though the servants really wanted to help you cook, that night you were very stubborn and made several dishes such as shrimp pasta alfredo, and roast chicken.

You waited as usual in the dining room, like the nights you had gone through before. But that night, Alex came home early in the morning, your husband came home a little later than usual.

You looked at the street with a sad face and remembered what had happened to you before, that day you learned another secret from your husband, alexandrovic Reigent.

You learned that Alex was the leader of the mafia association, the same association, that destroyed the place where you worked as a staff of a famous restaurant. You think that Alex is an ordinary man that you dated during school, you spent your days so happily with Alex, then you graduated from school and continued to college, you and Alex even studied in the same place with different majors.

Then you graduated with mediocre grades, until Alex said he wanted to build a business in the mining sector.

At first you didn't think that Alex's business would be very successful, but you were very happy with the success of Alex's business. Until one day Alex proposed to you to be his wife, right when it was your birthday.

That day you felt like the happiest woman in the world. .

'Date 05 01 19xx'

That was the day Alex went on his business trip as a CEO of a company that handles coal affairs. Like a normal day you prepared your husband's clothes, helped him put on his shirt.

"Alex how long will you be away on business?"

"Love ...I won't be gone for long, just 5 days .... hmmm? Do you miss me already?"

Your husband, Alex, coquettishly pouted at you who was busy tidying up his work needs.

"No, I don't miss you."

In a playful tone you answered Alex who seemed ready to tickle you.

That morning was filled with laughter and happiness flowing in the residence you shared with Alex. .

That afternoon was very boring without Alex, your husband for the next 5 days, at that time you for some reason really wanted to clean the room where Alex worked.

Alex's work room. As usual the servants at home really didn't want you to work, they looked as if they were afraid of something wrong with you.

Until you forced them and they had no other choice but to let you do what you wanted, well who would dare try to stop the wife of the Reigent house?.

Carrying a broom and cleaning equipment, you opened the door to Alex's work room, the room had a luxurious impression as Alex's job as a CEO of a coal company.

A room polished with African black wood, walls that are added with furniture such as classic lamps, lots of bookshelves and a document shelf.

A small pantry table that provides coffee and tea editing tools when Alex wants to drink something.

A polished work desk with additional high-quality marble with additional computers and also some documents scattered on the desk.

In short, this room is very comfortable and has a distinctive Alex smell, a blend of mint and a little musk aroma.

At first you tidy up and clean the desk where Alex works. Until you clean the bookshelf where Alex keeps books containing world history.

You clean the bookshelf carefully, rearranging the books. Each bookshelf is given a little space between 1 bookshelf and another, with the placement of a flower pot and also a classic lamp on the wall as a divider between shelves 1 and the others.

But when you were about to go to another shelf that you were going to clean next, your feet accidentally slipped between the black carpet that was the base of the shelf, with human instinct you held onto anything so that you wouldn't fall or get hurt, expert at holding bookshelves, you actually held onto the handle of a classic lamp that was quite low and you could reach.

With strong pressure you held the lamp, unfortunately when you thought it wouldn't fall, the chandelier was actually pulled down as you were going to fall, and you ended up falling with the wooden lamp that looked bent downwards.

After standing up and getting rid of the pain from the fall, you tried to fix the lamp to its original position.

But before you could even fix the poor lamp, you realized that the bookshelf you had previously cleaned was slightly tilted from the wall and showed a small gap, out of curiosity you tried to pull the bookshelf.

And there you see a small room with an area and size of 2 footsteps, the room is empty with 3 walls covered in black wallpaper and only lit by 1 lamp on the wall, on the floor there is a round carpet the same color as the walls in the room.

You think, what is this narrow room built for?, with slow steps you enter the room, trying to feel the walls but nothing happens. At that time when you think maybe this small room was built to store Alex's useless files.

When you was about to get out of the small room, my feet accidentally tripped over a lump protruding from the black carpet. Get up slowly and stand up, you try to push the carpet out of the room.

At that time, instead of the floor you saw, you saw a wooden door that was attached to the floor. Looking around, you exit the room and walk slowly towards Alex's study door, then with one turn, you lock Alex's study from the inside and walk back into the room.

Making up your mind, you open the wooden door, it's a little hard to open, but finally the door opens and reveals a staircase leading down, you don't see anything, it's very dark down there.

A dark basement!

When you look around the bottom of the stairs, you see a small light switch that is integrated into the wall right on the first step.

With a 'Click' a light shines under the room, holding a broom, you go down the stairs. Every step you take on the stairs creates a very unpleasant sound to hear.

Until the last step, you can clearly see this basement.

This room is very classic but looks luxurious. There are leather sofas lined up around a glass table, there is a bar table and also a billiard table, there is a television with a wide and thin screen and is very luxurious which is displayed facing the leather sofa.

Slowly you look around and realize that there are many shelves for storing wine bottles and other liquor, you always knew that Alex really liked alcohol beyond your expectations, but you didn't know that this room even existed in this house.

The house where you and Alex live, a 3-story house, with a very large front and back yard, equipped with flower gardens and also a small lake that flows behind your house.

During the 2 years of your marriage with Alex, you didn't know that this room existed.

Walking through this basement, you see about 3 gold and black framed picture displayed on the wall, approaching the picture.

The first picture , is a picture of you and Alex who have just finished their wedding, in the picture you are very beautiful and beautiful, sitting smiling happily while holding a bouquet of flowers, while Alex stands behind you while holding your left shoulder, Alex is wearing a black shirt combined with a collar decoration and also a gold hanger on his jacket pocket which is united with roses.

Under the picture is your name and Alex's name and the date you got married.

Picture of alex and his family wearing all black suits, you don't know much about alex's family.

But when you married alex, only his mother and father came, you don't know why his other family didn't come, alex only told you that his other family was anti-social, and after that you didn't ask much.

On the wedding day, his father and mother didn't talk to you, but you only got a soft smile from his mother and a cold stare from his father.

In the picture there are so many people you don't know, they all sit in rows on the benches, but there's something strange, there are several women sitting on their knees below among several men you don't know. Then you see alex and his mother and father sitting in the right row that doesn't blend with the middle row, there you can see alex with an unfriendly and expressionless face, a facial expression that you didn't even know alex could make.

Under the frame, there is a bold text that contains.

'ARCEINT REIGENT FAMILY'

You don't think much and just guess that Arceint is Alex's extended family name.

Then, the last frame is a picture of Alex and his parents, and 4 people you don't know, they each sit on a bench, while the 4 people you don't know, 2 of them are men and they sit on a bench, but the other 2 are women, and they kneel beside the seats of the 2 men.

Blinking slowly, under the frame contains the name Alexandrovic Reigent Arceint, followed by Alex's father, Rovalnov Reigent Arceint, then Alex's mother, Ilvanna Rosye.

And the names of the 2 men whose names you are not sure which one is correct are Xirent Reigent Arceint, then the other one is William Reigent Arceint.

You can only guess that maybe these 2 people are Alex's older or younger siblings. Since dating and getting married, Alex has been very secretive about his family.

Looking at the other names there are 2 other names written there, you guess it is the name of 2 women who are sitting on their knees side by side.

The names there are written as, Lilya Ergevan, and also Belleriya Woods.

You think that why their names seem so beautiful and elegant?

Looking around the room again, you think to continue cleaning up Alex's work room that was delayed and only conclude that this basement room could be a room where Alex relaxes when he misses his family.

Just as you are about to step on a step, your eyes accidentally catch a corner of the room that is quite dark, and there is a white door in the corner.

People used to say, curiosity can be your death, so be careful.

*Source image : Pinterest

©️Nymphea0 2024 , OG story . Project Dark Romance Story 1.

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions , Always be good people Dear. Much love , Neva🦋🦋.

@snowflakes666

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x darling #yandere oc #yandere male #obsessed #possesive #nevaerah

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tbaluver · 3 months ago

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hi ree! i love your account so much and i always get so happy when i see your posts on my feed. would you be interested in writing headcanons of the lads boys with a s/o who is self conscious about her stretch marks? no worries if that isn’t your cup of tea!

When You're Self Conscious About Stretch Marks- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: comfort a/n: hi anonnie! i'm soso happy to hear that it makes me so happy when i see you guys in my inbox ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ don't worry this was def my cup of tea ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ i hope this was okay and you enjoy! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He would be genuinely confused because you're perfect to him and can't understand how you would find stretch marks to be something bad about yourself. He's a sucker for your stretch marks so he'll try to remind you every time that they're beautiful.

He loves the bumps and grooves on the back of your comfy thighs. He loves trailing his hands across your stretch marks when you're cuddling or when he's laying down on your lap.

He'll lift up your shirts and kiss any stretch marks that travel up to your tummy and he'll look and give you a warm smile if his kisses tickle your soft skin.

"These are a part of you and they all tell a story. I love every part of you including this." He says softly, pressing a gentle kiss on one of your stretch marks. "And this" He continues to kiss every stretchmark on your body, his touch showing you how much he cherishes each one.

Zayne:

He's a doctor and he's seen almost how every body looks and operates so he'll know that stretch marks are completely normal. He just didn't understand why you would care so much about something so small about stretch marks because they were natural for anyone growing. However he does know that this upsets you so he'll be understanding and sympathetic when you tell him about this.

"Stretch marks are just part of the skin and nothing more. They don't define who you are or how I see you. I don't see you differently if you had them or not."

Anytime you guys were intimate, he'd like tracing against them with his cool fingers and will mindlessly rub circles on your striped skin. It'll tickle you sometimes and a smile would twitch on his lips seeing the reaction out of you so he'll continue doing that. He'll keep continuing to run his hands across your body that had any of your marks to make you smile and laugh.

Rafayel:

He's very considerate towards any of your insecurities and makes it his mission for you to feel confident about it. He'll find ways to subtly compliment your stretch marks without directly calling attention to it.

Sometimes he'll take candid pictures of you to show you how beautiful you are in his eyes. He highlights your stretch marks throughout his pictures and paints them in a beautiful light.

"Look cutie, you're stretch marks are just like brushstrokes on a canvas- unique and beautiful in their own way."

He just adores you so much. He just thinks you're the most beautiful person to walk in his life or this planet and he just hates how you feel bad yourself in any way.

Sylus:

His brows would furrow when you explain how much you despised your stretch marks on your body. "Come here," He'd pull you closer to him, "I want you to know that I cherish every part and inch of you, including these." He'd place his large hands on where your stretch marks are and rubbed them lightly and lovingly.

He would tease you on it later though, "There is no reason to be ashamed of your stretch marks. It could just mean your finally growing to my height."

Would later show you exactly how much he cherishes your body by worshipping every inch and he'll make sure he doesn't miss a spot

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tojisun · 2 months ago

Text

(quietly) oh god thinking about kyle falling in love with his new neighbour.

How he was just going to crack open a window to let the breeze in only to stop at the sight of his neighbour and her daughter dancing in the rain, twin smiles tugging at their lips as they hop around in their front lawn, feet digging into the muddy parts of their grass garden, letting the water splash out.

Laughter trickles from the two, and it tickles Kyle’s ears, filling him up with such longing he can’t even put a proper name to it.

She is the single mother who moved from another country.

Why she settled in this little suburb, Kyle doesn’t know but he’s thankful of her because there are times when he forgets about many things—himself, for one; the touch of soft blankets and the feel of warm water, for another—but somehow he always finds himself snapping back to his body at seeing her.

At hearing her.

She is beautiful. She is beyond beautiful. She is—

God, how can anyone have that much fortitude and strength and love? How can anyone see the world so optimistically; so full of wonder?

“Oh, you,” she’d murmured, shy, when Kyle had told her of his thoughts, and he watched as her eyelashes brushed against her cheeks at her quiet chuckle.

Kyle’s throat had gone parched—he has never felt this type of yearning before; one that makes him full even when he’s yet to eat anything. One that lulls him to a quiet sleep like his mind and his body have finally found their centre of gravity; like they’re no longer unyielding nor unforgiving. But kind.

Filling. Wondrous.

“It’s because of my little duckling,” she continued, eyes crinkling in her delight. She turned to her snoozing daughter. “I would have been lost without my darling Pen.”

She looked at Kyle then, smiling like he wasn’t just a kind stranger. Like he wasn’t just a nobody.

Kyle stares at the them now, his lips quivering as he watches them dance and splash and giggle to each other. Their laughter sounds like chimes. Like twinkling bells. Like what home sounds.

Kyle stares at them now, wondering if he could ever be part of their family.

(He already is. Have been, for a while now.

Penelope adores Kyle. So much so that she would not stop asking you when could she play agIn with the kind man next door.

She tells you that Kyle is so patient—not in those words, but she tells you that Kyle always asks more about her stories, and asks her who are her friends and which of her collection of toys is her favourite.

And Pen is still too young to understand the word ‘patience’ but she tells you how Kyle is nothing but.

How he never once rejects her tea time invitation, even if the tea is just bottled sweet tea and grocery store cupcakes that you were able buy that week.

How he never once asks why she doesn’t know how to tie her shoelaces, and instead teaches her time and time again. That he never gets snappy even if she keeps forgetting.

She even recounts to you how excited she had been when Kyle showed up for the dad-daughter dance hosted at her school. He’d asked for your permission then, going shy as he stuttered out his, “But I don’t want to impose and you can say no, I swear, and we can just ignore this and—”

“Kyle,” you murmured, your eyes prickling with tears. “I’d be honoured if you were there for Pen.”

He said something to you then. It was a slip of his tongue, clearly something he didn’t want you to hear, and you honoured his wishes but when a man like Kyle—

No.

When Kyle says, “I wish I can be there f’r you too.” What is the natural reaction if not to let him know that he can?

That you want him too?)

(Penny likes Mr. Kyle.

He talks funny, like the many others in this new country.

Mama said it’s not nice to say that Mr. Kyle talks funny but Mr. Kyle is not angry. He just laughs with Penny, and says she should hear his best friend, Mr. Johnny, talk.

Penny is told Mr. Johnny sings more than he talks. Penny giggles at the idea of it.

Penny likes Mr. Kyle.

He is warm and he always has toffee in his pocket for Penny.

He also laughs loud, like the one from the belly, and she thinks that his laugh fills their house with how loud it is. Mama said that Mr. Kyle laughs loud so that the monsters under Penny’s bed would leave. Penny cried and said many thanks to Mr. Kyle after that.

Penny likes Mr. Kyle.

He…

He makes mama happy.

Not the way Penny makes mama happy. No one can make mama more happy than Penny could! But he buys her flowers and donuts and- and books! Adults are so weird.

Books are no fun.

Sometimes she wished Mr. Kyle can be her real dad.)

#kyle gaze garrick x reader #kyle gaz x reader #gaz x reader #suns #sometimes you hear a specific song that makes you long for a family. for something so #soft and mundane and ordinary #today is that day for me. i heard that song and here we are #penelope (for her wisdom) or irene (‘peace’)#were the names i wanted for the daughter hehe :3

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sashasspace · 6 months ago

Text

Love Language mod v1- the intro ♡

I can’t believe my first ever mod is finally out! I wrote it out in July 2021 hoping the day it could be a mod and the fact it is out now feels so surreal. The five love language mod in the sims! Yes, our sims can now have a love language as a trait. You can buy the trait from the rewards store and it costs 12 points. Once your sim has the trait, you can see it in the simology panel and then your sims will have wants surrounding their trait. I used ALL the packs to create this mod.

What are the wants we will see in game?

Most of the instructions are already in the game on how to complete the wants

Words of affirmation

For words of affirmation, your sim’s charisma skill is an important factor when it comes to their social interactions

Compliment outfit *skill 2 charisma*

Compliment appearance

Brighten day *skill 2 charisma*

Flatter *skill 3 charisma*

Ask about day

Express admiration

Whisper (any whisper social)

Profess undying love

Pickup line *for couples with high relationship, just have your couple flirt*

Sweet talk *skill 6 charsima*

Flirt

Declare love publicly

Get to know

Discuss interest

Deep conversation

Tell story (any story social)

Tell dirty joke *skill 4 comedy and also flirty*

Ask a risqué question

Write love email *skill 4 writing/ flirty mood*

Flirty text *could be regular text too*

Heartfelt compliment *happy mood*

Say affirmations

Write affirmations

Quality time

Ask about day

Watch movie alone or with someone

Play Console / PC alone or with someone *skill 4 video gaming*

Call someone

Chat on computer

Cook meal alone or with someone (any meals from all packs)

Picnic *spring/summer season*

Prepare drinks (any drinks from all packs)

Travel

Join in cooking

Workout *skill 6 fitness*

Dance together *skill 3 dance*

Pillow fight

Teach to knit *skill 10 knitting*

Play with sparkler *must be summer/fireworks must be on property for the want to appear*

Video call

Watch TV show

Take a bath *any bath*

Play board games *all table games included*

Gifts

Give gift *friendly, mean, funny or romantic*

Give simoleons

Treat yourself or any animal

Receive gift *open presents from seasons*

Buy something *retail, phone, computer purchase...etc.*

Offer rose *gift rose or flower arrangement in inventory/ buy from the flower stall*

Donate to charity *skill 3 charisma*

Give jewelry gift *gemology table*

Give a collectable as a gift *dig to find something or buy simmi capsule*

Acts of service

Call to meal

Be called to a meal

Make drinks for *use bar*

Prepare drinks (any drink from any pack)

Order drinks together / solo

Cheers *toast from seasons/ my wedding stories*

Order food from stall

Clean up

Repair

Give or receive massage *romantic base game social or spa day*

Cook (any meal)

Donate to charity *skill 3 charisma*

Order delivery

Serve tea/ be served tea *object from my wedding stories*

Hire a service (any service)

Volunteer *parenthood pack*

Physical touch

These wants need sims to have a first kiss to appear. For sims created in CAS as married or premades, they have to woohoo first for the want to appear.

Kiss

Kiss lover's cheek / family kiss *all sims are included in this interaction*

Hug / Embrace *all sims are included in this interaction*

Caress cheek

Snuggle your lover

Give / receive Massage

Look deeply into eyes

Feed a bite

Slow dance / sweetheart dance *My wedding stories/ High school years*

Cozy up by the fire

Woohoo (any location)

Cuddle while watching movie

Make out

Tickle

Credits 💕

Thank you Tee (danitysimmer) for helping me and teaching me all about modding. You are so patient with me and so understanding.. I’ll never forget your kindness. I pray you receive so many blessings in life

Jordy, thank you for motivating me to go back and cheering me on when I sent updates

My family and friends who cheered me on when I sent updates

Zerbu’s mod constructor v5 / Lot51 tuning builder

Sims 4 studio / Scumbumbo’s xml injector

Cinnasims for the pose I used / pose player mod

"The Five Love Languages" by Gary Chapman

Twistedmexi better exceptions

My amazing friends who tested this mod out thank you so much!

XML INJECTOR IS REQUIRED!!!!

Optional downloads ♥

UI Cheats Extension v1.41 | Patreon

MiniMod: Re-Roll Wants | Patreon

Video tutorial

CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD THE MOD Alternate Download

Brazilian Portuguese love language mod

French love language mod

Polish love language mod

Ukrainian love language mod

Spanish love language mod

FAQs ღ

Why is the mod not appearing for me? You don't have XML injector mod 💜

There will be future updates such as moodlets/buffs and love languages for children. If you have any issues, please contact me. I will try my best to figure it out. Tag me if you use the mod, I would love to see it in your game. Thanks for downloading and being patient with me. I wish you a lovely day!

Take care 🌙

🚨 For any modder who wants to translate any of my mods, I don't mind if you upload it on your patreon, or even any other website that monetizes, BUT I do not want you to post it on CurseForge. I would also like if you keep the mods publicly for download no early access.

#the sims 4 #simblr #sims 4 #ts4 simblr #simmer #black simmer #sims 4 mods #sims 4 love language mod

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mo0nfairy · 2 years ago

Text

ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ UNCHAINED MELODY, PART ONE !

summary :: surviving raccoon city together, you catch the affections of leon kennedy, ada wong, jill valentine, and carlos oliveira. six years later, you reunite with them and realize their obsession with you has increased tenfold.

chapters :: the masterlist.

word count :: 5.7k.

content warnings :: mdni!! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, yandere!jill, yandere!carlos, noncon touching, drugging, kidnapping, ptsd, violence, explosions, weapons, death, mild sexual themes, sexual harassment (done by some random npc), car crash, hospitals, reader breaks their arm.

───�� Rain.

It's the first thing you are able to scrutinize once you come out of your state of comatose. You listen to the tumultuous melody as the droplets batter against the roof of the car. Even with your eyes locked tight, you are able to figure out where you are just by the rumble of the car engine, jostling you around when the tires hit a crevice in the road. A fuzzy, knitted blanket is adorned around your body. Your headphones are set on top of your head, a playlist of your favorite songs playing on a low volume. The sounds come out distorted, somehow, as if the lyrics were tripping over themselves and the tunes were awkwardly dancing with one another. It's almost as if you had been drugged.

The right side of your face is squished against something, which you now perceive as somebody's neck. The surface pushes your headphones uncomfortably into the side of your head. In a fruitless attempt to take them off, you realize you are paralyzed from head to toe. An arm is draped around your shoulder, the other firmly around your legs which are draped among their lap. Whomever this stranger is, they are quite brawny as they tighten their thick arms around you. They press gentle kisses to your forehead, the stubble of their beard tickling your skin. A deep voice whispers sugary affirmations against your temple, but you are unable to dissect them through the warped music and white noise. Have I been kidnapped? Who the fuck is this person?

With what little strength you have left in your body, you are able to peel your eyes open just a crack. You find yourself in the middle of the backseat (the safest spot in the car, which was certainly done on purpose). You find the arms draped around you are tan, adorned in heaps of black hair. Casting your gaze forward, you look to the driver. You see a woman with short, dirty-blonde hair whose slender fingers grasp hold of the steering wheel. The identity of these two people remains unknown to you. Looking at the windows, the rain cascading down the glass prevents you from pinpointing any potential landmarks. The only thing you can do is slump against this stranger and let yourself be driven far, far away.

You rewind into the past to collect any memories that would help decipher the current events. All you are able to garner is a crisp October evening, where you snuggled beneath a blanket in the safe expanse of your bedroom. You remember wrapping the blanket around your shoulders and strolling into the kitchen, where you would then make yourself a hot cup of tea. This was your normal night routine, you recall in defeat. The last memory you had would be of no use, considering the large gap in your mind once you drank the first sip of tea. So, you rewind even further to see if anything abnormal had occurred during the day.

You remember how you had spent your morning journaling in the garden, analyzing the faces of other patients and doctors wandering through your memory. Nothing stuck out, however, so you abandoned your reminiscing of this past morning. You then think back to group therapy at noon, where others would express their traumas from Raccoon City six years prior. You would tell your own story of the agony you endured and how you met several people who had protected you with their lives. Leon Kennedy, Ada Wong, Jill Valentine, and Carlos Oliveira — four names you would never forget.

Then, you would express the grief you felt when you were told none of them had survived the night. You had never felt so alone after. But, fortunately, you were then taken under the wing of this sanctuary built just for survivors. You have stayed in their habitation since.

The faces of those listening to your story were people you have seen every day; none of their features matched the physicality of the people in this car. With that, you fast forward further into the afternoon to find anything that sticks out. The heightened security that seemed to be reserved for you made you furrow your brow. However, it was nothing explicit enough to explain your current circumstances. Several guards stood outside your room as you lost yourself in the book you checked out from the sanctuary's library. The headphones you wore blared your favorite music and tuned out any and all outside noise. Even the hushed noises straight from your kitchen.

The hours of the afternoon faded away while you read through your book. It wasn't until a friend had come to your door to remind you of your plans to go stargazing did you realize the sun had begun to set. As they left, you decided to brew yourself some tea before you would join the others outside. You remember sitting at your frail kitchen table, blanket adorning your shoulders like a cape as you watched the tea kettle on the stove. Silence pervades and you can't help letting your mind wander. It has been six full years since the incident in Raccoon City. Still, your brain always seems to saunter back to the memories of that night.

You think of Leon Kennedy that night. You remember those pale blue eyes, freckled innocence, puppy-soft hair; you remember how he had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. Working at the Mizoil Gas Station, sitting right on the outskirts of the city, you're bound to face your fair share of weird regulars. And Leon Kennedy, by far, was the weirdest. A week before the night that sent your life into a tornado, you had met the new rookie who just arrived in town. And for seven days, you would always spot that familiar green jeep outside your workplace. His relentless appearances made you worry he had a hole in his gas tank or something. However, his visits weren't to grab gas or a quick snack for the road, it was to awkwardly lean against the counter and pathetically try to win your heart.

"Oh, hey Y/N! Funny running into you here..." The twelve visits a day spoil his attempts at being suave. "Yeah. I work here, Leon." His name sounds like nectar on your tongue, to a point where he is on the verge of outright begging you to say it. Even once more.

You then think of how during your closing shift, a coworker had become something ghastly, something monstrous. It all just happened so fast. You think of how you shielded yourself in your cramped work locker, limbs jutting out against the uncomfortable metal walls. To this day, you can still feel the suffocating tightness in your chest from holding back your sobs. All while you helplessly listened to the horrific sounds of your coworkers and customers being torn apart. You're entirely shaken with trauma, but with your brain in survival mode, you know this was no time to rest. Who knows how many more of those things will arrive? Now was your only shot at escaping this hellhole. So, you begrudgingly peel open the locker door and carefully inspect your surroundings. You grab a six-pack of beer on the desk beside you and take one of the bottles out. It was your only available weapon against your zombified coworkers, after all.

Blood paints your sneakers red and cheap beer stains your uniform as you fight your way out of the station. The sight of the entrance feels like a light at the end of the tunnel. Your lungs tighten with exhaustion as you continue to run towards it. That is until a firm grasp on your wrist halts your intentions. Swinging the bottle towards the assailant, they block it with ease and disarm you. It wasn't until a stuttering, concerned voice gasps your name do you realize that you almost just stabbed Leon Kennedy in the face. But God, you never thought you would be so happy for the persistent neediness of this cop.

You don't even know what had overcome you, but the sight of something human fills you with so much relief, you engulf the man into a hug. It lasted a mere second, but it was more than enough to get Leon's heart thumping in his chest. Even in the face of death, a smile tugs at his lips with any crumb of affection he can extrapolate from you. Muttering an apology to him, Leon disregards it entirely and stares at you with that dumb, love-struck expression. Your drop-dead gorgeous self; your witty comebacks that have his ribs tough with laughter… You, of all people, initiated affection with him, you actually wanted to touch him!

The roar of something inhuman cuts Leon off, to where he then bends down and scoops you into his arms. Without a second to resist, Leon (who is far too elated for comfort) sprints through the door with you and books it to his jeep. You're too busy staring at the store in trepidation to stop Leon from opening the car door for you, placing you in the passenger seat, and fastening your seatbelt for you. Almost as if you were a child, incapable of using your own hands.

The car ride to the Raccoon Police Department is quiet. Other than a few hushed reassurances of comfort from Leon, a heavy silence sits between the two of you. It's so bewildering that the people you had spent every day with are all dead. Not even dead, but zombie-fied creatures groaning to tear your flesh asunder. Your brain drifts to one coworker, in particular. One who was a master at getting under your skin. Manipulating your time alone to ask you out to dinner for the umpteenth time while tracing his hands over your skin. You never agreed, but with every attempt to bring this problem to your manager, it was always swept under the rug. And at last, you would have to endure the eerie smile and roaming hands of this middle-aged creep.

But now, things are different. You think about how he is now dead and can never touch you again; you think of how sickeningly good it felt to drive the rear end of a half-shattered bottle into his skull. Looking at your hands, you find your palms caked with his blood. Leon takes notice of this, taking one hand off the wheel and using it to grasp your hand into his. Electricity tickles through him from the contact. "You didn't have a choice" he assures in that soft tone reserved for you, but he is wrong. You did have a choice, and in the end, you wanted to hurt him.

"I wanted to. I wanted to kill him." Your gaze is locked on your red hands as you confess; Leon's gaze is fixated on you. "I just couldn't put up with him anymore. I finally got to fucking get back at him for once, to take advantage of him while he was weak." You don't even notice the tears streaming down your emotionally-drained expression.

You especially don't notice the sheer affect your words have on Leon. Tense jaw, flared nostrils, chest rising up and down with short breaths. What the fuck did he do to you? What had he done to push you, the angel of Leon's life, to such violent measures? He imagines his disgusting hands, dirtying your heavenly form; he imagines your face scrunched up with dismay, tears brimming in your eyes. And it absolutely destroys him. His heavy stare remains locked on you, entirely oblivious to any outside sources. No zombies, no eight-foot-tall tyrants — all that mattered was the audacity this dead man had to put his hands on you. And god, it makes him red with rage.

"Leon- LEON-!!" You shout out to warn him before the jeep then collides into a car wreck. It is pure mayhem as you shield your head with your hands and prepare for your demise. Leon’s arm stretches out over you in a desperate attempt to protect you. How ironic that in the face of a zombie apocalypse, you would die because of someone's poor driving skills.

You reluctantly open your eyes; you're alive. With your ears ringing out and your vision fuzzy, you manage to wrestle your way out of the jeep that had been flipped upside down. A grunt escapes from your chest as you make contact with the pavement. Something wet trickles down your head and from your nose, which doesn't take much for you to perceive as blood. You are so disoriented, you entirely forget about the man who was driving you just moments before. So disoriented, in fact, you don't hear the weak whimpers of your name from Leon as he watches you stumble further and further and further away from him.

You think of Ada Wong that night. You remember the click of her heels, her expensive perfume, her manicured nails; you remember how she had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. Somehow in your bewildered state, you had found yourself in one of the holding cells of RPD. You had collapsed against a metal bench, catching sight of a blood-stained first aid kit just within reach. You then tend to your wounds with feeble efforts. Soon, your senses clear, to where horrifying screams of agony echo through the large expanse. An unseen force rattles the room, and chunks of wall soar through the air from the cell beside you. There's a pop! before a deafening silence settles in the room.

All that is left in the air is your rapid breathing, waiting for your inescapable demise to embrace you. But, there is simply nothing to greet you but you and your thoughts. The gentle tap of quiet footsteps fills the permeating quiet. A woman then enters your train of vision, dressed in a trench coat, sunglasses, and stiletto heels. She stops in her tracks upon seeing you, seemingly inspecting you from behind her eyewear. With a tilt of her head, the woman steps through the threshold of your cell, where you then bundle yourself in the corner of the room. And you are just so adorable how you cave into yourself, almost like a bunny. So frail and terrified; too damn cute.

The way she walks to you is as if she were on a catwalk. Your trauma-ridden body trembles in fear with every step she takes closer. When she is just within reach, you act on instinct and push her away from you, racing past her and out of the cell. She barely stumbles from your attempt at an attack, an amused chuckle vibrating from her chest. You get a good several steps away before you finally discover what had made such a booming noise before. A man lies dead on the ground in the locked cell beside yours with a punctured hole in the wall. His dry mouth is hung agape and his body sits lifeless. Both eyes have been popped out of their sockets, blood seeping down his face and to the ground below. The woman follows you in your footsteps as you stare in horror. She merely tuts at the sight, a sigh of disappointment filling the empty air. How in the world is she not as terrified as you are?

"Come with me." Her voice is feminine, oozing with sultry confidence. It's soothing to listen to.

"Why?" Meanwhile, your voice is nothing like hers. Your speech comes out shaky and quiet, adorned in the fear this woman was apparently immune to.

"Well, you wouldn't want to end up like Ben, would you?" Your silence serves as your unspoken agreement. "Come now." In addition to her poised nature, her voice is also flat with demanding dominance. You find yourself blindly following her as she struts away.

Accompanying this woman as she walks through the police department as if she were the headline of a fashion show, you soon make it to the grimy streets of the city. During that time, she had introduced herself to you as Ada Wong, a spy working to retrieve the G-Virus. Why is she telling you the whole truth about herself, she doesn't know. Why did she make you follow her when she knows she works better alone, she doesn't know, either. There's just something about the way you cower into her when a zombie growls and the way your eyes glimmer with gratitude when she annihilates the monsters in your path. It makes her feel worthy, for something other than violence or money. As if she were the big, bad wolf who had fallen for the helpless bunny rabbit.

Now standing at the end of the street before the sewer entrance, you stare below in apprehension for what you have now learned lies within. This whole time, all the secrets Umbrella have were hidden right beneath your nose. Or better yet, right beneath your feet. A tank truck lies on its side several feet away from you and behind it, a trail of fire travels closer and closer. The flames and oil mending together then causes an explosion to erupt. Before you even had a chance to process anything, you're in the air, where you land in a patch of grass with a loud crack. Permeating pain courses through your right arm. From the time you had broken your wrist in 5th grade from attempting to climb a tree, you can tell your arm has suffered the same fate.

A leather-gloved hand then places itself onto your cheek. You look to see Ada, now with no glasses, tousled hair, and her coat discolored from grass stains. A dandelion had managed to wrangle itself with one of the dark-colored strands on her head. Playfully, you pluck the dandelion from her hair and gift it to her. Then, you make some joking remark about how it's a "thanks for the save earlier" with a weak chuckle. Your hand touches hers and something flutters within Ada's stomach — something grand, something scary. Something... warm. It stuns her into silence and catches her entirely off guard.

Her gaze shifts to your lips. Despite how chapped and dry they are, your bottom lip seeping with blood after the tough fall, they couldn't look any more appetizing to Ada. The mere idea of pressing her lips to yours causes her to relentlessly fall further and further into this unfamiliar, twitter-pated oblivion. You are just so benevolent, softhearted, and so, so bright. Ada's head is so fogged up with all sorts of devoted insanity, she doesn't take notice of the mass of zombies treading closer. While Ada is crouching beside you, she is then tackled to the ground. A pandemonium of zombies roaring ensues, and you're attacked by the undead, as well. With a hard kick to the skull of your assailant, you're able to wrangle yourself out of their grip on your leg. You stand to your feet and search for Ada to no avail, the heaps of zombies restraining you from any clarity.

With that, you turn tail and slam open the doors of the closest shelter you could find: Gun Shop Kendo.

You think of Jill Valentine that night. You remember her calloused hands, her rough-edged attitude, her scent of gunpowder; you remember how she had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. When you enter the gun shop, you're met with a man and a woman, both disheveled with dirt and blood. They point their guns at you upon your rushed entrance and in response, you raise your hands to surrender. The pummeling on the doors then has you all racing to barricade the entrance, using abandoned shelves and boxes as impromptu defenses. With heavy panting and a hefty barrier, the three of you stand, exasperated, trying to catch your breath. You sink to the floor and hold your arm, flashes of agony pumping through the broken limb.

Despite the danger just outside and your arm overcome with pain, this is the best you'll get in your current state. Shelter and weapons. You'll just have to endure how the shop owner shoved the barrel of his gun in your face and how the cop beside him sees you as gum beneath her shoe. Jill treats you like she does everyone else: ice-cold and blunt. She doesn't say a word to you; she barely acknowledges your presence. For that, you assume she hates your guts. Considering the circumstances, however, you don't take it to heart. Instead, you thank the two for allowing you to stay in the shop while the storm of zombies outside dies down.

However, things are quite different on Jill's end. The simple way you exist — it stuns her. Throughout her entire life, this dull ache has resided in her chest. She feels nothing. She would try and garner any feeling whatsoever; she'd do something adrenaline-inducing to feel fear, she'd do something ignorant to feel guilt. She would do everything to fill this hollow void within her. But, her incessant efforts were all brought to no avail.

That is until you came along.

Even though you're just some helpless civilian with no other desires than temporary protection, something foreign pervades her brain. Jill has come to realize you are far more than just the pretty face on the surface (although the idea of others witnessing your beauty causes her stomach to churn). She then tends to your broken arm, acting as if her heart wasn't running a mile a minute from the close contact. Meanwhile, lust-driven fantasies that would make even a harlot blush muddle her brain. To have you beneath her, staring up at her like that. You can't expect her to not swoon at the mere thought of how you'd taste, how you'd sound, how you'd tremble from her touch. Her mouth waters at the mental image alone.

Without thinking, Jill leans in to kiss you, fully ready to take you here on the floor of this filthy gun shop. The cock of Kendo's gun brings her out of her haze. You, on the other hand, assume this woman views you as nothing but a burden despite the clear display of infatuation in front of you. She informs you with a flat tone how survivors would be taken to the subway station, where they would then be transported out of the city. You thank her again for her hospitality, but mostly out of culpability. With your arm now covered with swiftly-made bandages, you reach with the other for an abandoned gun. Now that you've accepted the assumption this woman doesn't want a thing to do with you, the only way you'll get out of Raccoon City is by yourself. However, she blocks your attempt with a gentle grasp of your wrist.

"No need." Her voice is rough, but beneath the facade, it is timid and fearful.

"Why not?"

"You have me. I won't let anything happen to you." You stare at her, completely flabbergasted at the sudden alter in attitude.

The journey to the subway station was a breeze, to say the least. With your new bodyguard there to obliterate any danger in your path, it was practically a stroll in the park. She tells you her name and you tell her yours. Y/N Valentine has kind of a ring to it, Jill thinks. But with only just a few blocks to cross, something large, something beastly, something entirely inhuman stops you in your tracks. Incredibly massive with its large teeth protruding from its mouth, it groans a deep "S.T.A.R.S" before it begins to stomp towards you. Terror submerges your senses and immobilizes you. A red laser points from the rocket launcher in its hands, the dot sitting right by your feet. Jill then grabs hold of your hand and tries to run off with you, but her futile attempts were too late. A rocket then strikes the pavement and its force sends the two of you into the air. Your bandaged arm lands first against the unforgiving ground, anguish permeating your entire body.

You think of Carlos Oliveira that night. You remember his gruff voice, his kind heart, his dirt-caked skin; you remember how he had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. The pain in your arm is so blinding, there is nothing else you can think about. Not Jill, not Ada, not Leon, not the myriad of monstrous creatures on your tail. The only thing that exists right now is the torturous misery coursing through you. You're writhing on the cold pavement as you cling to your arm, cries of distress and exhaustion trembling from your chest. God, when will this nightmare fucking end?

The gut-wrenching entrance you're in is broken when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You expect to find Jill and her stone-cold, yet concerned expression, only to turn over your shoulder and see a complete stranger. He has a head full of messy, dark hair, with loose strands shielding his face; a strong body, with his military vest filled with heavy weaponry. His expression, however, was the most memorable. God, he looks at you as if you've hung the moon. His appearance is unkempt and dirty, but still overwhelmed with cheesy rom-com levels of infatuation. Why is this stranger looking at you as if you were walking down the aisle on your wedding day? You don't know. Besides, there are far more important matters to concern yourself with.

The heavy slam of Jill's boots reverberates as she sprints over to you. She helps you to your feet, not without a quick glare at the man beside you that reads "don't you fucking touch them." Jill puts your intact arm around her and leads you into Moon's Donuts, all while the deafening sounds of gunfire and grisly roars echo from behind. You don't dare turn around; you couldn't bear to look at that abomination once more. The quiet hum of heavy rock welcomes you as you enter the deserted donut shop. You practically collapse into one of the booths, Jill following behind and sitting across from you. With an exhale of relief, you relax into the seat and hold your arm in an attempt for temporary comfort. The man from before enters shortly, as well, then barricades the entrance with ease.

Your bandages are now torn and peeling. In an effort to fix it yourself, that same agonizing pain satiates through your arm instead. You hiss in response, alerting the two others. The man leans down before you, introducing himself as Carlos Oliveira, then eagerly asking you to inform him of your name. You oblige and he visibly shivers when your skin makes contact with his, an expressed concoction of nerves and irrepressible obsession. Upon gingerly grasping hold of your arm, he uses medical equipment from the various pockets around his chest and tends to you. His touch is careful, delicate — as if you would drift away if he applied any pressure. With every whimper and groan of pain from you, shocks are sent straight to his heart. Carlos had just met you moments ago yet still, he can't fathom the idea of you in pain. He assumes it's merely empathy, but when he feels tears brim in his eyes at the sight of you suffering, he knows this isn't normal.

With Jill's hand on your shoulder, consoling you through the pain, Carlos finishes swiftly before reluctantly breaking physical contact with you. He then gives you his canteen bottle, allowing you some water after your exhausting efforts to survive. You down the water like you've been parched for years. In the process, you are entirely oblivious to the heavy breathing from Carlos, who is left stunned at the prospect of an indirect kiss. Your lips against his — he feels his cheeks heat up from the idea alone. He doesn't realize how totally deranged he looks in his lovesick hysteria before the sharp snap of Jill's fingers brings him back to reality. Her possessive stare, her physical affection with you. Carlos feels his world crumble at the revelation that falls: you belong to Jill. The partner of his dreams is sitting right in front of him, but at the same time, is entirely out of reach. And it shatters him.

With that being said, Carlos isn't always the most articulate with his attempts at garnering information, hence why he stuck to the guns. So, as Jill and Carlos guard you like feral dogs with a bone while you travel back to the subway, he lets his facade slip.

"So... Are you two-like... Are you guys-um? Like, together?" Smooth as silk, Carlos. Smooth as silk.

Jill rolls her eyes in response. Mostly due to how annoying she thought him to be, but especially due to the fact that you aren't actually hers. Meanwhile, you tilt your head in confusion like a lost puppy (and you miss the way they visibly melt from the sight). After another fit of relentless stammering from Carlos, Jill finally clears the air.

"No, we're not dating." It hurts her to say it, evident in the way she clenches her jaw in an attempt to suppress her protruding emotions. Meanwhile, Carlos is sent to cloud nine.

Despite the blood, death, and gore he had witnessed in a single night, he had never felt so elated in all his years alive. Jill scoffs at his thinly-veiled euphoria, before grasping your hand and treading forward. Through trial and error (and more zombies than you could count), the three of you finally make it back to the subway station. You could cry, it's almost over. However, you can't help but notice how Jill and Carlos are perceptibly devastated by the idea of letting you go.

You hug Jill. It was nothing intimate, merely a thanks for the help she had provided you. Still, her body goes rigid and her heart flourishes with every kind of emotion she has never felt before. Through all the revelations that have taken place in this hellhole of a night, none of it compared to the earth-shattering emotions you have given her. Fear, lust, jealousy, devotion — it's all so overwhelming and she loves it.

You hug Carlos next. Again, nothing intimate or ulterior about the act of affection. But just like Jill, his heart practically detonates from the close contact. If only you could see his love-struck face; his expression is practically straight out of a cartoon. Cupid's bow through his chest, bluebirds swarming around his head and all. When the friendly hug soon started to turn into a romantic embrace, you push yourself off of Carlos, excusing his actions as nothing short of post-traumatic nerves.

With that, you join the other civilians on the train. The subway doors close behind you as you look at the survivors around you. All of them are riddled with trauma, shaken and silently weeping from the sights they have witnessed. Despite the harrowing circumstances, you're alive. That is all that matters and you could not be more grateful. Sitting on an empty seat, an exhale of relief escapes your chest. The train whirs as it begins to move. You turn your shoulder and look through the filth-stained windows to find Jill and Carlos, eyes blown wide with emotion as they watch you leave them. They stand in the same place you had left them, gazing wistfully at the love of their life. Picking up speed, you are soon out of their sight and they are now without the one they love most. And the sheer affect it has on them is gut-wrenching.

Fortunately for you, the ride out of the city is plain sailing. And with no S.T.A.R.S. members on the train, there is no 8-foot-tall creature there to set everything ablaze. You have now become one of the very few people who can say they made it out of Raccoon City alive.

You think of Raccoon City the morning after and the consequences that came from surviving. You think about what Carlos had said to you in the midst of danger. "I'm not gonna die on you and leave you in a cold, cruel, Carlos-less world." Liar.

Upon escaping the city safely, you and the other survivors were sent to a local hospital. From thereon, you would spend the next several days there (and finally receive proper treatment for your broken arm). After several days of anxiously anticipating the well-being of your friends and the entirety of Raccoon City, a doctor you had never seen before enters your room in the dead of night. Introducing himself as Dr. Matt Gorkis, he then reveals the news of the missile strike sent to the city and how there were no other survivors. A wave of devastation and helplessness washes over you. Weeping softly, the doctor bluntly provides details of the matter.

He then informs you of a sanctuary being built just for survivors of the incident. There will be provided shelter, basic necessities, and all sorts of therapeutic activities that will help you during your healing journey. And with your job, your home, and all of your friends eradicated to dust, you know you have no other choice. With another month of being tested for infections and going through physical therapy, you are released from the hospital and sent away with the doctor. For the past six years, this sanctuary is what you have learned to call home.

The hissing of the tea kettle makes you jump, bringing an abrupt halt to your road trip down memory lane. And while you pour yourself a cup of tea, you realize that your memories will be of no use for your current circumstances. For now, you'll have to let yourself be lulled to sleep in the back of this stranger's vehicle, driven far away to god-knows-where. But, the embrace the person has on you is so warm, so inviting. Your body can’t help but succumb to the relaxation this stranger provides.

You just hope that when you wake up, whatever welcomes you isn't anything reminiscent of the nightmare you faced six years ago.

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 ۫ you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

❝ MY LOVE, MY DARLING

I'VE HUNGERED FOR YOUR TOUCH . . . ❞

not a single person had asked for this, but it has been all my brain has been able to think about. i hope u all can appreciate some breadcrumbs from the ramblings of my heart hehe.

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xiao-come-home · 7 months ago

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I love reading your random Boothill thoughts 🥲. Especially the one where he is a dad. Do you think he is a girl dad or boy dad?

Ahhh thank you! Ik you sent it before his story was leaked but man was this spot on 🫠 here’s some dad!boothill hc with reader because im starving

Warning: mentions of pregnant reader and all that jazz, SPOILERS FOR BOOTHILLS STORY.

I FELT IN MY BONES he was a girl dad before it was revealed to be canon! Boothill gives so much girl dad vibes it’s immaculate. He’d love to pick out pink clothes for his daughter, pink shoes, ponies and other plushies! Or rather, he loved.

That’s until you happened to get pregnant shortly before he left for his surgery. He came back a few weeks later with his new body, but no one was home. A small gift bag sat on the table, waiting for him; Boothill opened the bag and grabbed a piece of long paper, a black and white picture. A small bean present in the middle; the back of the picture held a tiny caption, that read: “I’m only a few weeks old. I can’t wait to meet you, daddy.”

Even though the wound was still fresh and open, since not long has passed since the incident on his planet - Boothill began to feel bitter determination to give his baby the best life they could ever have; this time, a life that wouldn’t see its end so fast.

Boothill is very interested in your pregnancy! He’s sometimes unable to go to every appointment (whether be it the ipc who are hunting him, or the opposite), but he knows he can’t mess it up. Not again. He’s always holding your hand when you have an ultrasound scan, glaring at the doctor and making sure they don’t hurt you or the baby, and giving your tummy so. many. kisses. He assists you in the bath, just talking to you can keeping you company, since water, cords and a pregnant human aren’t a good combo. He wants you to tell him everything.

That’s when you finally tell Boothill that you’ll have a baby girl - his mechanic heart shatters and swells with love at the same time; it’s such a strange feeling, that makes the cowboy feel a little guilty. Both of you fall silent, until Boothill makes a move and closes the distance between you, smiling sadly at you and softly caressing your stomach with his hand, “I’ll treasure her forever.”

There are days when Boothill truly feels like the hole in his heart cannot be healed after your first daughter, but he knows she’d love to have a little sister. Yet he’s here, now a cyborg and the only memory of her is just one, lonely picture. He makes sure to never let her existence fade away by telling your round tummy that he’ll love them both until the end.

On a happier note, Boothill is just. Such a good dad, but also a chaotic one sometimes, especially if your daughter inherits her dad’s personality. They’re doing everything together - if she wants to have her hair braided, he does so, and lets her braid his (even if his hair gets so tangled at first, to the point he has to cut it 😭), good god! He loves her so much and always hugs her so tightly when she runs up to him after she notices her dad is back home.

Boothill just loves hearing her little giggles and always makes her laugh! Sometimes he tickles her so much she throws her plushies at him.

Boothill wants all her milestones to be forever preserved. He has tons of pictures of her, a few photo albums - it’s never enough. He’s so proud when she says her first word, when she takes her first steps by herself, her first drawing for him (even if she drew it on the fridge with a black marker), her first birthday. He wants to give her everything she could ever have.

Boothill might've cried the night when his little baby drew him a family portrait - with you, herself, her daddy and older sister. He's injected in her every possible good memory about her, and she never fails to appreciate her older sister even if she isn't there, knowing her dad still loves her just as much.

When Boothill’s little princess cancels the weekly tea party he’s always attended, it’s HIM who feels sad about and pouty about it.

Boothill buys his daughter tons of different hats! They’re always carefully picked and he makes sure she likes them waiting for her approval, but most of the time she wants to just wear his. She doesn’t care she’s drowning in it, it’s the best because it’s Boothill’s hat.

Even though Boothill never mentioned her anything about playing guitar, one day she started to play him a tiny bit of song she learned at school - although clumsily and due to stress, Boothill listened to her and threw her in the air in happiness when she finished - he knew it was your job and couldn’t be more thankful. Once again, he made yet another guitar in his life - this time to finally listen to his little one’s music and teach her many, many other songs they’d later play and sing together.

Oh god, when Boothill’s daughter announced her “boyfriend” she met at daycare, he just stared at her with wide eyes. This is also an instance where he cried that night and you had to calm him down. Later on he insisted to be the one to take her to daycare, and gently threatened the said toddler, “look, stinker. Don’t ya dare GET NEAR ma lil’ angel, or else.” This was his last visit without your supervision. And also, your daughter just laughed at him and left… so yeah, plan failed successfully, I guess?

Mandatory naps with daddy after daycare. Well, Boothill only pretends to sleep when she looks at him - but once she falls asleep on his chest, he looks at her with so much love, gently resting on his chest and stroking her hair, that was just like his and adoring her tiny face, that he thought was the most perfect mix of you and him. Boothill shushes you with his finger quietly, when you ungraciously enter your home. A content smile appears on his lips when you give him and your daughter an apologetic kiss on their foreheads, still hearing her snoozing tenderly.

#honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #boothill #boothill hsr #boothill x reader #.anon thirst

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vinntea · 4 days ago

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I will never get over that fuckin line in act 1. "Ya drink tea, Ekko?" Something about it just tickles my brain. It's so passive aggressive and yet it's an invitation for peace and comradery. I desperately need this to be a thing. Fuck the she blank on my blank when I blank I need the Ya blank blank, Blank? Ya serve cunt, Viktor?

Ya kill Smeech, Sevika?

Ya curse societies, Jinx?

Ya fumble baddies, Vi?

Ya enforce martial law, Caitlyn?

Ya end cults, Jayce?

Ya steal hoes, Maddie?

Ya start wars, Ambessa?

Ya get written out of the main story and plot for no good or satisfying reason, Mel?

Ya get written into the show just to die, Isha?

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gladdygirl18 · 3 months ago

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New tickle tea story incoming, and it's a really good one

Blue me, orange NEW BOYFRIEND

Yes u read that right! Wanna find out how this came to be? Read under cut (it's gonna be pretty long cuz this is covering 2 days)

So on sunday was my university's annual carnival to usher in new freshmen (so much fun 😁🫶🏾) and I was meeting up with my some friends.

My soon-to-be boyfriend (still a friend at this time) had sent me on a scavenger hunt to look for him, and ofc I eventually found him. After that, I gave him a small gift (some things I picked up from an anime convention) and he loved them

And throughout the day, after meeting up with our mutual friend, I would always poke and tickle him and ofc, he'd tickle me back

He is a firm believer of "equivalent exchange" (whatever I do to him, he does to me, and vise versa)

So while the carnival is going on, the 3 of us find and empty classroom to watch funny videos together. I started to lay across the table with my hat over my face (this happened like twice or thrice) and my soon-to-be at the time starts tickling me (revenge he called it 🤭💖)

When our mutual friend leaves the room, the 2 of us cuddled up to each other in the corner of the room and.... we started making out and the rest is history ☺️💖

We then went out to the courtyard late at night and just sat on the ground and just stayed there for a long while; it was bliss. We cuddled and kissed, and ofc tickled each other here and there. OMG he is such a tease

"Tickle tickle tickle~" "Where else are you ticklish?" "You're ticklish here too?" "You're just ticklish all over, aren't you baby?" "Coochie cochie coo~"

LIKE OMGGGG SHUUUUP UUPP 😆😆😆💖💖💖 I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

Next day (Monday) after classes, we were in my room just cuddling and kissing. Ofc, me being a little sneak, I start tickling. OMG he is so cute when tickled! 😍🥰💖😆 He has a very airy laugh and its cute

"No, not the tickles! Hahaha!" and once I tickle him, he tickles me back (firm believer in equivalent exchange) "That's it! C'mere you!" "Where's that bellybutton?"

I HAVE ASCENDED OMFGGGGGGGGGGGGG AHHH 💖😆💖😆💖

While cuddling, we did something that I never thought I would ever think I'd do (i'd only ever read this dhit in fics) WE PLAYED A TICKLE GAME

The rules were simple: whoever lasts longer without putting their arms down wins. He lasted about 1:03. I was already so fucking nervous, but the fun nervous. Now, if yall know me, I can turn off my ticklishness, but when he started digging into my armpits and sides, I lost it. and this boy starts teasing me saying: "Come on baby! You're doing great" "I caahahahahan't" "You're almost there!" "It tihihihihickles!" "I know, babe, but you're doing great! Only a few more seconds!"

BROOOOO I FUCKING LOVE HIM 💖💖💖

I lasted 1:04, a second longer than him (did not think i'd last that long tbh) Side note: he also has a small little obsession with my bellybutton and omgg he finds it so cute! He will tickle it, kiss it; I'm dying every time he plays with it 🥰😆💖

and ofc when I'm being bratty, he always says "Alright, that's it? Where's your bellybutton?" But if anything, he often aims for my armpits cuz i can't stand my armpits being tickled i literally start bucking like a bull (but it is so much fucking fun! 🥰)

Just yesterday, we did the same tickle game again. I had asked him if he could help me (cuz i wanted to see if i could last longer than 1:04) and he happily agreed. He then said, "However, if you lose, I get to tickle you more~"

BITCH I AM LOSING ON PURPOSE EVERY FCKING TIME IF THATS THE CASE WHAAAAAT 😆😆💖💖😍😍

When tickling me, he kept teasing me and encouraging me throughout, and it made it worse. And, purposefully ofc, I shot my arms down.

"Oh nooo.. Baby you didn't make it. You know what that means?"

This 6'2 guy straddles me, pins an arm above my head while locking the other underneath his knee and starts torturing the fuck outta my armpit!!! I wanted to fucking scream (i mean i did ofc but you know what I mean) and omggg he was so fucking sadistic with it too and it make the tickling worse. I then told him that I lost on purpose and he just gave me this smug ass look and said, "You don't think I knew? You wanted this all along didn't you sugar~? Having my hands lightly explore your tickle spots while you thrash around? Hearing you laughter and cute little giggles... it's like music to my ears~"

I AM AT PEACE OMGGGGGGG I'VE DIED😆💖💖😋😍😆

And omg he is so fucking considerate and compassionate. "The safeword is Grapefruit" (literally for no particular reason, just a random he came up with) Also pointing out when tickling me like that, he did tell me that, but I was having the time of my life that I didn't use it; I was having so much fun! "If you want me to stop, just say that word and my movements will freeze in an instant." "Is this okay for you, baby?" "I don't want to move too fast, so just let me know when you wanna take a step backward" that's all he was saying throughout while he was tickling me, and when I was calling out his name, he would say "What's wrong my little sugar? Are you having fun? Well, of course you are cuz if you weren't you would've said the safeword ages ago~" Such a fucking tease i love him 💖

But really tho, he be making me wanna cry... He's so fcking sweet omggg. One time, I started tearing up when I was hugging him and I said, "Thank you.... thank you so much" "I don't know what you're thanking me for" "...For making me feel wanted, loved, safe... and beautiful..." "Aww, you're welcome my little sugar dragon. You deserve to feel that way, and I'll do whatever I can to ensure that" (he calls me sugar dragon cuz A) I am very sweet and B) our favorite fantasical creature is a dragon, and to me, he's my little chaos dragon 🥰🧡🐲) He also says "She's sugar cuz she's sweet, too much of her will kill me, and too little of her will kill me" (iykyk)

but yeah! This is an incredible comeback to TTS's! I love my boyfriend so much; such a teasy tickle monster, even tho he calls me the tickle monster cuz i always iniciate the tickle fights we have 😋💖😋 But yeah, expect a lot more TTS very soon!

tagging the fwends: @giggly-squiggily @sunstone-smiles @cutesmokes @burningablaze @otomiyaa @ticklishfanart

#irl story #tickle tea stories

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dropitpunk · 1 year ago

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how is spending the night with jordan li like?

cw: very suggestive content, fluff, mentions of drinking, jordan li (fem and masc presenting) x gn!reader

jordan enjoys taking you to parties with them just to show you off and then finishing the night with you cuddled up in their arms.

you drank a little and your head was the perfect amount of cloudy, filled with just jordan and loud thoughts about their perfume and their warm breath on your forehead.

jordan's hair tickled your nose when you changed positions and their head found the comfort of your chest, delicate hands embracing your torso and thighs wrapping around yours.

"you get so warm when you drink," jordan whispered, closing their eyes as you rubbed their back lazily. you smiled, you knew jordan lost any reservations when tipsy and so close to you.

jordan lifted their head to get a better look at you, huffing so their hair wouldn't get in the way. you helped putting their hair behind their ears, flushing under jordan's intense stare.

"you okay?" you said a bit awkward, still shy around jordan's big eyes. jordan smiled knowingly, legs moving around until they were sitting on your lap, thighs resting on your hips.

"you're just pretty." they said before a pair of lips was on yours, slow and attentive just how you liked it.

your hands were crossed behind jordan's neck, toying with the pearls on their necklace while their tongue explored your mouth with hunger.

jordan was handsy whenever you two were making out, so it didn't take long for you two feel skilled fingers going down your belly, caressing the skin above the waistband of your sleeping shorts.

you complained when jordan stopped the kiss, their brown eyes glazed over with desire and soft lips red and swollen.

"i'm not going anywhere, stop whining," jordan smiled down at you and leaned in again to kiss your neck, sprinkling wet kisses on your sensitive skin.

you gasped in surprise when jordan turned you over, having to put both hands on their now hard chest to not fall over. delicate hands gave place to callused fingers and rough touch.

short nails scratched the skin of your waist, a hand bringing you by your nape to their lips again.

"wanna feel you wrapped around me," jordan said against your lips, moving their hips against yours so you could feel the bulge growing under you. you whined, nodding frantically.

a lot of nights were like this, agreeing happily to whatever jordan wanted to do with your body, losing yourself in them. they were just as trusting to let you explore them, give jordan as much pleasure as they brought to you.

some nights weren't so good, sometimes jordan would be back at your dorm stressed and angry, frustrated by their parents, by godolkin or by the pressure of being the perfect hero.

you tried to relieve that pressure, and jordan assured they felt better just by being at your presence. you weren't so sure, as you could feel jordan tossing and turning in bed when they thought you were sleeping.

in nights like that, you would try to take their mind off things by telling the story of the new vought+ movie that just came out, or gossiping about students at the university.

you would make them laugh for hours with your dumb jokes, and you went to prepare a cup of tea for them, when you came back they were already asleep.

some nights were just uneventful, though you liked them the most.

you could hold jordan for as much as you like, eat junk food in bed and play videogames until you got tired. jordan was a better player than you, but you were getting there.

jordan would ask you to braid their hair for training the next day, kissing you breathless as a thank you.

they would steal your clothes all the time, smiling innocently when you asked where your favorite hoodie was.

however, when they could sense someone looked at you with more interest than tolerable, you'd be the one wearing their clothes and drowning in their perfume.

when it was summer, sometimes jordan would take off their shirt before sleeping just to tease you, flexing their muscles not so subtly to see you blush, dimples big on their cheeks.

they would hold you closely, firm chest pressing against your back and strong arms holding your waist all night.

it was easy being jordan's partner, loving every part of them was free of worries. it just came natural to you, being close to them. especially at night.

a/n: i'm obsessed with jordan omg

#jordan li #gen v #gen v amazon #jordan li x reader #jordan li x you #the boys #fluff #jordan li fanfic #gen v fanfiction #the boys fanfic

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midnightorchids · 2 days ago

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Jason shivered as he peered out of the old window of your shared apartment. He stared at the blanket of snow that draped the trees and he tugged his sweater tighter against his chest.

“Why are you sitting by the window Jay, it’s freezing,” you asked, setting down two cups of chai on the coffee table. They sat next to Jason’s long forgotten book and you smiled reading the title—Matilda.

Jason often brought out books from childhood during the colder months and he had a particular liking towards Matilda. You always assumed that it was because he saw a glimpse of himself in the odd story. Maybe he found a sense of comfort in it.

“I don’t know, it’s beautiful out though,” he replied, pulling you out of your thoughts. You stared out the window and nodded. Jason was not wrong. Despite the harsh weather conditions, the scenery was breathtaking. Pearly crystals gently tickled down and covered the lawn like an elegant rug. The street lights were on and the entire atmosphere felt cosy and welcoming.

Jason took a sip of his tea and hummed in delight. The sweetness of the chai had reached deep within his soul and warmed his heart. He leaned back against the couch and reached for your hand. You were quick to intertwine your fingers together. You brought his knuckles close to you and placed a gentle kiss on his hand.

For a while, it was quiet. You both stayed there, sipping your tea while enjoying each other’s company and the view. But then, the silence became dull. You decided to reach over to the table and grab the old book. You pushed it towards Jason and he stared at you in confusion.

“Read to me,” you said and he grinned. Jason took the copy from your hands and flipped to the first page, wanting to read to you from the beginning of the story.

You liked watching him read out loud. He always got this excited look in his eyes and a narrative tone in his voice. He often put on different voices for characters and he especially exaggerated the tones when he read children’s books. It was no surprise when he gave the worst voice to Harold Wormwood and a silly high pitched one to Miss Honey.

The rest of your evening was spent reading and in fits of giggles. There was no other way you’d spend your night. This was truly the best.

#imagine me dropping this off like a cat gifting you a dead rat #anyways!#gn!reader #jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #jason todd headcanon #red hood x reader #batfam #red hood headcanon #red hood imagine #jason todd imagine

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literaryvein-reblogs · 1 month ago

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100 Words for Worldbuilding

Some sensory words that can enhance your story/poem.

A-E

Acid - sour, burnt; vinegary

Acrid - strong, biting (e.g., something on fire)

Airy - natural smelling, (e.g., clean, fresh air)

Ambrosial - fragrant; having a pleasant smell

Aroma - strong, yet pleasant scent

Aura - smell surrounding something

Balm - soothing scent

Billowy - scent that surges and wanes

Biting - pungent, sharp or harsh

Bouquet - blend of floral scents

Briny - salty

Buttery - smooth; rich; greasy

Citrusy - crisp notes of any citrus fruit

Clean - very light scent, clean and natural

Cottony - soft; smooth or delicate

Creaky - squeaky; showing signs of deterioration

Crisp - fresh and natural

Crystalline - strikingly clear or sparkling

Dirty - nasty, unpleasant odor

Doggy - odor like an unbathed or wet canine

Downy - soft, soothing; silky; delicate

Earthy - recently dug or tilled soil

Essence - basic, natural scent

F-M

Faint - very light or mild; can barely be detected

Feminine - floral fragrances

Fetid - decaying or rotting smell

Fishy - smelling of fish; pungent, strong, unpleasant

Fleecy - shaggy; woolly

Floral - scents associated with flowers

Flowery - fragrance similar to flowers

Foamy - frothy; bubbly

Fragrance - pleasant smell

Fresh - natural smelling, rather than artificial

Fruity - having the flavor or aroma of ripe fruit; sweet

Gaudy - excessively showy

Gingery - pungent; sharp, robust taste or aroma

Globular - spherical

Gossamer - light, delicate, or insubstantial

Grainy - coarse; sandy; unrefined

Heady - very strong aroma

Incense - strong scent

Lemony - tart, piquant citrus notes

Lilac - rich floral scent combining rose with vanilla

Lime - refreshing and zesty citrus smell

Loamy - fragrance with an earthy note

Masculine - earthy fragrances

Medicinal - earthy; often unpleasant

Mildewed - soaked in wetness that has gone stale

Minty - menthol-like smell (e.g., mint tea or peppermint candy)

Misty - mild fragrance, not overpowering

Moist - smell of dew or rainfall

Moldy - damp, fungus-like odor

Musty - old smell; stale and probably moldy

N-R

Nauseating - odor that makes one sick to the stomach

Odorize - changing the scent

Overpowering - too strong of a smell

Peppery - hot, pungent, fiery; stinging

Perfumed - artificial fragrance, not natural-smelling

Pheromone - natural scents

Piercing - loud, shrill; biting

Pine - crisp, refreshing evergreen smell

Piquant - pleasantly pungent, sharp, or spicy taste

Plastic - artificial chemical polymer odor

Poignant - pungently pervasive; piercing

Prickly - stinging; irritating; itchy

Pristine - fresh and clean as or as if new

Pungent - strong fragrance

Putrid - stench of decay

Rancid - spoiled; food that has gone bad

Rank - offensive in odor or flavor

Redolent - having a strong, permeating odor

Repulsive - off-putting odor

Rich - strong, resounding smell that is appealing to the senses

Ripe - brought by aging to full flavor or the best state

Rose - spicy yet sweet fragrance

Rotten - spoiled, rancid, unpalatable

S-Z

Savory - spicy, salty scent that has no elements of sweetness

Sharp - pungent fragrance that permeates the air

Skunky - noxious smell that lingers; sulfuric (like rotten eggs) odor

Smoky - scent of burning wood

Soapy - smooth and slippery

Sour - rancid, sickly sweet smell

Spicy - sharp, heady, can sting or tickle the nose

Spoiled - rotten; something that has “gone bad”

Stale - old, dusty, stagnant odor

Stinking - unpleasant, foul smell

Sweaty - perspiration odor

Sweet - sugary smell

Tangy - having a powerfully stimulating odor or flavor; acidic

Tantalizing - arouses or stimulates desire or interest

Tart - sharp fragrance or taste

Tasteless - arousing no interest; dull

Tempting - having an appeal; enticing

Trace - a tiny amount of fragrance

Velvety - soft, smooth, thick, or richly hued

Vinegary - sour; disagreeable, bitter, or irascible

Whiff - a fleeting scent

Wispy - hint of fragrance in the air

Woodsy - forest-like smell

Zesty - sharp and pleasantly stimulating

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: Worldbuilding ⚜ Word Lists ⚜ Writing References

#worldbuilding #word list #writeblr #dark academia #spilled ink #literature #writers on tumblr #writing reference #writing prompt #poets on tumblr #poetry #writing inspiration #writing ideas #descriptors #creative writing #fiction #writing resources

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briseroyawritingsblog · 1 month ago

Note

Can we please have a fluff story with sickie reader and Hugh as caretaker? Pretty pleasee 🥺❤️ Thank you ❤️❤️❤️

𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆

𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓!𝒃𝒇!𝒉𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

• +18 minors do not interact, fluff, sick day, cuddles, kissing, tummy rubs, babying, pet names. etc.

𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: to all girlies who are lonely, when sick.. and to all girlies who adore this man and wish he was theirs. 🤍 thank you for requesting this nonnie, i hope you like it.

𝒉𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

divider by the lovely @anitalenia 💌

“In bed you go..I got you some breakfast” you pouted watching him slip on your fluffy socks. He kissed your hand and sighed helping you under the covers. “M’sorry.. we had our date planned” you reach for his hand eyes pleading. “Want me to feed you princess?” Sitting next to you, your heart fluttered with love. “I wish i could kiss you right now..” you whine and he laughed under his breath. Soothing your hair gently. “I want to kiss you.. you know i do..” you nodded. “I know but you’re not allowed I don’t want to get you sick daddy..” you whisper lightly rubbing his knuckles. “Damnit.. what a shame..” he smirked, taking the bowl of warm sweet oatmeal in his hand dipping spoon in it feeding you to it. It was delicious, topped with honey.. banana and forest fruit. You sat against the headboard pulling the covers up to your chin shivering again. Your cheeks warmed up, he touched your forehead “don’t worry about a stupid date.. I will take care of you” he nuzzled your cheek before pulling away feeding you some breakfast. You whined, feeling your body melting away. “daddy..” you sighed getting your belly filled with homemade oatmeal by your boyfriend your sick day just got brighter. “Drink your tea.. and don’t forget to take your meds– can you do that for me kitten?” you smiled at him– his care made you fall in love with him even more. Kissing your forehead standing up to leave to the kitchen. You nodded drinking your mint tea, then eating your meds.

when hugh returned from the kitchen you were passed out burning with fever. your cheeks hot, lips parted. He sighed taking off his hoodie, sliding in bed next to you pulling you in– letting you lie on his chest. You got comfortable, when a sneeze woke you. He grabbed a tissue wiping your nose stroking your hair again. “Shhh.. s’alright buttercup..” your eyes filled with tears, as you snuggled yourself in his large arms. “I feel like a sick kid..” you sobbed. “You’re my sick baby and I don’t care if I get sick from you.” He cuddled you close bringing his mouth to yours kissing you, kissing your tears away.

“I’m so sorry” you moaned softly against his lips as he kissed you snuggling even closer to him. He chuckled lightly “You will be…” tickling your sides gently you giggled feeling your fever leave your body. As if he was your energy.. he was truly the love of your life and nothing would ever change that. “I love you so much..” you nuzzled his cheek. He cupped the back of your hair “I love you more.. now where does it hurt?” You put his hand on your belly. He rubbed circles on your belly giving you your water bottle. “Plenty of water baby, and sleep..” you nodded listening to your daddy. “I got you sick now too.. you kissed me” he smiled kissing you again; and again, and again planting kisses all over face. “Little flu won’t kill me. Now sleep” he sighed letting you take large gulps of water and settle in bed next to him. Closing your eyes. He made sure you were warm enough, like that he watched you sleep. And suddenly.. you became his world all over again.

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman fluff #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x y/n #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman x female reader #hugh jackman imagine #hugh jackman fanfiction

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biibini · 8 days ago

Text

first night together NSFW modern!mizu x reader pt 2

tags: riding, fingering, wlw, she stretches your insides, hair-pulling, holding hips, lots lots lots of moaning, hickies, mizu watches you ride her like a cowboy yeehaw

a/n: unfortunately i’m 9 months late :,) but this is a continuation of this request. I'm currently changing up my format but ngl the halftone looks so good. what do yall think?

18+ content ahead!

It’s funny, really. 5 minutes ago, you were worried about the spilled tea staining her. Now you've left another stain on Mizu's clothes.

It isn't visible yet, but you're sure she wouldn't mind this one either.

Sitting on top of her lap, her hands surround your thighs, inching closer and closer up to your hips with every caress. Her hands weren't the only things busy with you. Her lips were occupied with your neck, busy leaving fluttering kisses over the surface.

"Mm, you just smell so good.", Mizu comments, her voice low and quiet, before returning to work.

With every touch, you feel a knot continue to twist below your stomach. Deep down, you hope it won't be too long of a night. You couldn't stand the idea of waiting for her touch.

Her lips pepper your neck with kisses, leaving the night air to cool the burn, making you hum with every touch. Hearing your little squeaks motivates Mizu. Truthfully, it makes her go crazy. As for you, every touch makes your panties dampen.

She takes a deep breath before she attacks your neck with another kiss. You groan once again, thinking it's another direct attack. However, it's different than those beforehand. You feel her lips, now puffy and a vibrant red shade, stick to your neck longer than usual. In the middle, you notice a sucking sensation as Mizu's hands crawl closer to your ass, cupping each check with her hands and slowly firming her grasp.

"M-Mizu!", you yelp.

You feel her immediately pull away, staring up at you in confusion. You won't lie, she looks really cute right now: her face is covered with a deep shade of red, her eyes shimmer a deep blue, wide and lost, almost like a puppy waiting for their next trick.

"Did I do something? Was it too much?", she questions, her hands pulling back from your cheeks.

Was I going too fast, Mizu thinks.

"No, I just-", you start.

"I got carried away, I'm sor-"

"No, don't be!"

Now Mizu was also confused.

"It's good. You're doing... really good, honest.", you admit.

Mizu stares at you, gauging your reaction. You were looking down, avoiding her gaze, biting your lip all at the same time. Was there something you didn't want to tell?

"Really good?", Mizu asks, curious for your answer.

You could only nod, too shy to admit to the full truth: eagerly waiting for Mizu's touch all over your body.

"Really good.", you answer.

Verbally, you couldn't admit that truth. Physically, it was a different story, as Mizu felt your hips subtly rock against her body.

Oh. Ohhhh.

A bulb lights in Mizu's head. She places her hands on your hips, pulling you closer to her thigh, hoping to get another answer from you. Instead, she felt a damp spot on the shorts she gave you. She looked down to find a dark blue spot below in between your thighs.

"How so?", she repeats, a teasing tone behind her answer.

Her breath tickles you. You feel her hands guide your hips to her thigh, pulling you up and down on her. With every motion, she watches the spot on the shorts begin to grow. With every grind, the heat between your legs grew hotter and hotter.

"S-So good.", you confess as you attempt to hold back your pants.

Your eyes continue to look down, finding something to stare at other than her alluring gaze. She's already being a tease, moving your hips by her own will. You can't possibly handle more.

Mizu, on the other hand, continues to move your hips, deepening her grip on you and following your motions. You feel her slender fingers squeeze the skin in hopes of becoming physically closer to you. You follow suit, grinding against her thigh, letting your soaked panties further stain the shorts she gave you. You indulge with every move, pushing down little by little to further satisfy yourself. Eyes shut, you quietly moan at every touch.

It was supposed to be a gentle, soft, slow type of night. It was your first time staying the night with Mizu! A part of you was confused by your desperate longing. You knew you couldn't last a long night at the previous pace, but god, control yourself!

Little did you know that Mizu was also thinking the same thought. As nice as it was to be gentle and leave loving kisses up and down your figure, she knew she couldn't last a long time at a snail's pace.

It wouldn't hurt to pick up the pace, right?

Every part of your body was addicting: your soft lips, your voice whimpering with every thrust, your hips moving against her, your plush thighs pushing against hers. Feeling your inner thighs rocking back and forth, pushing down with every grind to satisfy your clit, you wrap your arms around Mizu. You spot her shoulder and rest your head, amplifying your moans to her right ear. You tighten your embrace with her, staying as close as you physically can as you ride the pulsing sensation below.

So while you were busy riding her thigh, she lessened her grip with every thrust. Now, she was enjoying the show you were putting on.

"Having a good ride?", Mizu teased.

You nodded, panting into her ear.

Mizu places her hands down your back, slowly following the arch down your lower back. You watch her gaze staring at your lower body in awe, concentrated on your riding, while her hands continue to caress you, up and down. With every movement, you faintly feel her thumb pressing down on your skin, outlining circles with the pad of her thumb. With the stability of her hands, you attempt to keep up the original pace to satisfy your throbbing bud.

Your grip, however, loses strength with every grind, pushing your weight on Mizu's chest.

You hear her chuckle in amusement as your hips stagger with each thrust.

"Want to change it up?", she requests.

"Mmhm", you answer, nodding your head into the crook of her neck.

The hum of your voice vibrates against Mizu's neck, comforting her in the intimate position you were in.

"We'll need to take off those shorts beforehand.", she guides her hands down to your lower back, patting down the edge of the shorts with a few playful smacks.

You attempt to pull them off, still stuck and straddling Mizu's leg. With her help, the shorts are thrown across the room as you await Mizu's next instructions. Mizu pulls your waist closer to her body, keeping you straddled on her lap as your panties stain her pajama shorts as well.

"Ready for me?", you hear her breathily whisper into your ear.

Blood rushes to your cheeks, Her words instinctively make your legs squeeze closer, igniting the flame below. You were so ready for her. Forget going slow. Your walls are practically aching for her touch.

"Y-Yeah...", you groan out.

The word 'gentle' was thrown out the window 5 minutes ago. The only thing filling your mind was filthy thoughts begging for Mizu's touch.

Mizu pulls her left hand away from your behind, now moving in between your thighs, inching closer to your swollen clit. Her legs move apart below you, forcing your legs to widen the gateway to your dripping entrance. You feel her fingers gently pull the soaked fabric to the side, only leaving the air standing in the way between you and her fingers.

Mizu aligns her middle finger to your entrance, gently sliding up and down your dripping heat. You groan from the touch, your feedback echoing into a sweet melody to Mizu's ears. You feel the pad of her finger apply pressure as it circled your throbbing clit.

"God, you're soaking wet.", Mizu notes.

Her lips return to your neck, hoping to leave another mark to blossom later, as her fingers continue to caress the outside of your entrance. With every tickling kiss, she made her way down to the collar of the old shirt you gave her. You take it off, leaving you naked atop her lap.

Mizu stares at your bare chest, admiring her view, before continuing down her path. Every kiss planted by her lips singes your skin, leaving little maroon marks behind. At eye level, it was front-row seats to your chest for Mizu. And she took quick advantage of that.

You feel Mizu's tongue lick from below your chest to your nipples, flicking against their hardness. At the same time, Mizu wraps her middle finger with your slick, entering it inside your achy walls.

"A-Ah! Mizu!", you moan in response.

With every thrust of her finger, your walls contract and flex against every push and pull, slowly sucking her in. From your dripping entrance to your hard nipples, all you can do is moan from the stimulation over and inside your body. You feel another digit enter inside, making you moan once again. Your hips begin to shake, slowly matching Mizu's pace.

The grip her right hand has on your hip tightens, assisting your hips with your movements. Every dip into her fingers reaches deeper and deeper into your insides, making you gush out liquid on her hand below. You kept up the pace, leaving the room to be filled with your pants and Mizu's groans muffled by your chest.

Mizu pulls back, enchanted with the view of your hips grinding against her fingers. With every pant, she watches you chase the pleasurable feeling. Her grip fastens as her fingers hit deep inside, every knuckle inside your gummy insides, now brushing against the ceiling.

And oh boy, does it feel good when that twist in your lower stomach tightens every time you bottom out on her slender fingers.

With every thrust, you tightly wrap your arms around Mizu, pulling her closer to you. It’s an intimate position, facing one another, skin to skin, sweating against one another, connected by her fingers stretching your insides.

You feel her fingers curl, searching for that one spot. Her exploration makes your clit throb once again, your walls clamming against her digits, your back arching back. The more she searches, the tighter you grip onto Mizu, your hands searching for a place to hold onto.

Your hands crawl up the back of her neck, grabbing onto her lower scalp, hoping to ease the intensity of your throbbing clit. Mizu finds the spot, tightening your grip on her smooth, raven hair.

You hear a loud groan from Mizu vibrate into your chest. Before you can even process, you feel her fingers pound into you, fast and deep, making you moan louder than ever before. Aiming to hit the right spots, Mizu keeps her grip on your hip, controlling the intensity of the pace.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck… fuckkk Y/N”, she moans into your breasts, laying her head atop of them.

You hear her voice mix with the gushing sounds from every thrust she made alongside your moans and pants. This was the very opposite of her promise earlier this night. How very gentle of her.

“What- ah- happened to being so- mm- gentle?.”, you attempted to tease, trying to string a coherent sentence together while her fingers hit that spot again and again.

Mizu smiles, her breathe jagged against your skin.

“Fuck that.”, she answered, her thumb dragging across your clit.

You yelp in response, feeling that knot edging closer and closer to your release. You push your hips downwards, deepening the angle to get closer to your release.

“You feel so so— ah— good on my fingers.”

Her thumb draws circles around your clit, the pad of her finger applying more and more pressure in tandem with her thrusts. Her fingers, your walls, you could feel it all. You could feel yourself inch closer and closer to your release, almost reaching your peak.

Her fingers inside you curl up again, hooking your throbbing walls as the digits shook inside of you.

“Aah- Mizu!”, you moan out, releasing everything, your liquid gushing out like a fountain all over her tired fingers.

Finally hitting your release, you let everything go. The weight of your hips collapse onto her fingers. Your tight grasp on Mizu’s scalp loosens. Your final cry of pleasure erupts as her digits start to slow their speed.

You pull back to see Mizu panting and looking down, distracted with how her hand was practically covered by your slick. Amazed, she slowly pulled out her slender fingers, making you groan again from the lack of stretch below. Her grip on your hip softens, gently stroking your side up and down.

“C’mere, you liar.”, you tease, pulling her close to you, lips interlocking with hers.

—

The morning after was quiet and gentle. You woke up to the sunlight peeking through the blinds, forcing you to turn and face away from Mizu. She groans to the movement, snaking her hand around your lower stomach, carefully pulling you closer to her body. The warmth of her hand heats up your stomach, comforting you into a soft morning cuddle.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

Half awake, Mizu hummed in disagreement. You heard her stir behind you, as you felt her get closer to your back, her lips kissing from your neck down to your shoulders. Every touch tickled you, the softness of the sun waking you up.

While distracted with her kisses, you found her hand starting to climb up your upper body, inching closer and closer to your soft chest: aiming to fit a squeeze or two before you could notice.

You huff, amused by her boldness in the early hours. You think how was so bold last night to make you ride atop of her— that’s for another time to dwell on that.

“You promise to be gentle?”, you tease.

Mizu pauses her kisses, letting her hand reach your breasts. You feel her slowly fondling with them, acting as stress balls as she finds an answer.

Her mind goes back to a couple hours ago, consumed by the view of you riding on her fingers, moaning and yelping with every thrust, the feeling of your slick gliding over her fingers while your walls stretch with every thrust.

“Mmm… we’ll see.”

#mizu blue eye samurai #mizu bes #blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #mizu x y/n #modern mizu #modern mizu smut #modern mizu x reader #mizu x reader smut #mizu x you smut #smut #bini goes crazy and is lowk delirious when she wrote this

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