Tumgik
#I'm going to be like a new god that's come to bless them and I...have plenty of other wips
optimusxmello · 8 months
Text
My lack of self control means I just keep adding WIPs to my ao3 account because I keep getting ideas and there's no one to stop me.
178 notes · View notes
hoseoksluna · 1 month
Text
STEAM | myg ft. jjk
Tumblr media
pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x oc (feat. jungkook)
genre: smut
word count: 9.2k
summary: one video call awakens your neediness for two cocks.
playlist: steam / pinterest board: steam
warnings: female masturbation, mentions of shower sex, praise kink, toying with the idea of polyamory, a hint of voyeurism, oc rly goes through it and faces mental battles, fear, intoxication, punishment, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, choking, cum eating, manhandling, degradation, provocation, mutual masturbation, rough & raw sex, brief oral sex (f. receiving), pet names
note: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEEEE SKFDSFLSFJ, okay so—let me introduce to you a new yoongi series featuring JUNGKOOK oh my god. i am SO EXCITED about this and i wanna apologize for my insane ideas in advance... i'm so sorry, guys. nevertheless, i hope you like this as much as i do, i literally went mad writing this and i smoked so many cigarettes i lost count. please, let me kNOW UR FAVORITE PARTS CUZ I HAVE SO MANY AND I WANNA TALK ABOUT THEM. oh fuck, guys. ENJOY READING SDKFJSD. ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
side note: btw, the playlist i made is literally perfect and depicts the fic wonderfully. you can listen while you read! <3
Tumblr media
The scent of mangoes finds its way up your nostrils, heating your senses through its balmy touch as you rub the body butter over the damp skin of your arms. Fingers graze along your décolletage, tucking in the fragrance for your boyfriend to breathe in when he comes home. He’s out for the night—said something about his friend finishing his military service, so the whole group was going out to celebrate it. Yoongi was so frantic in his excitement, hastily putting on the first outfit that sparked his eye. Didn’t even touch his hair, only sprayed a mist of his sandalwood and tangerine-tinged perfume. Grabbed his phone, keys, wallet. Barely kissed you goodbye before he fled out of the door.
He didn’t even ask you if you wanted to come along.
You didn’t mind, though—you’re only in the early stages of your relationship. It hasn’t even been half a year since you’ve started dating. And you figure he deserves a night out with his closest friends because you’ve been attached to the hip since the beginning. Funnily enough, you no longer live at your own place. Somehow, you’ve settled in Yoongi’s apartment, never setting foot outside, save for your walks, grocery shopping, the few dates with your friends and work. There wasn’t any conversation about it; you just mostly spend your free time with your boyfriend.
And all you do is fuck, eat and watch movies.
The last time Yoongi took you out was during the first two months you’d been getting to know him. The realization of how long it’s been sends a trail of chills down your arms and you rub it away.
But because you’ve been spending all your time together, you’re glad to have a moment to yourself—glad to be able to take a long hot shower, to do your hair and skincare. Perhaps, you’ll even have time to do your nails and that energizes you, propels you to spread the body butter further down the rest of your body. It is your rose garden, these night times reserved for your hot showers. The place you go to—your hideaway from the pressure and nerves of life that the steam loosens and soothes, especially when you let your sultry playlist echo through the mightiness of Yoongi’s bathroom, your favorite singer’s voice reaching your veins like the growing stems of those roses; pretty, pink and so feminine. Yes, Yoongi’s therapy sessions and thick length might have been a great help, the best in fact, but there’s something about letting yourself be burned off of all that’s been weighing you down and watching it trickle down the drain that is just so satisfying.
It was all that you were once used to. That is, until you met Yoongi.
Showers with him are something else.
Something you never thought you could ever have the blessing to encounter. Showers with Yoongi are intense, so out of pocket that you find yourself thinking about them fondly whenever you’re alone with your thoughts. There, beneath the downpour of the warm water, he lets you see the other side of his ever unyielding stern façade. While holding you, he would make you laugh, then make you moan and break that sound with each hard plunge of his cock. Hair slicked back, smirk adorning that delicious wet mouth, causing him to look like a Mafioso bent on absolutely ruining you. He would tell you the most insane story he heard from his friend, then talk you through the build-up of your orgasm while continuing to the point of that story—seamlessly waving through, never losing tempo. “Then, he went up to his hyung to ask him about what he did—yes, just like that, honey, take it. I know you’re almost there, just listen.” You would come all over his cock, sprinkling him with your essence, right there at the end of his story and like a hungry man, he’d get on his knees and eat you up, muttering how good you are and how well you did along with each swipe of his tongue. Your lungs would heave due to the overstimulation, your legs would tremble, unable to stand and he’d gather you into his arms, fold you like paper into the crooks of his body and let his thick duvet drape over you. He’d fall asleep first, breathing in the scent of your shampoo, snoring softly behind you while spooning you, never letting go of his deathly grip around you. And while you would breathe in the haze of lilac sprayed on his pillows, you’d become aware of the drowsy rhythm of his heartbeat, the lift and fall of his chest against your back, the snug heat of his body and it would lull you to sleep.
That has become your new version of hot long showers.
And if it isn’t this, then it’s Yoongi letting you quickly wash yourself before he’d steal you away, dragging you into this bed, only to carry you back there an hour later.
You speculate he has a serious, adorable case of attachment issues.
That is why you enjoy your exceptional alone shower all the more—you haven’t had it in so long. Only this time, it’s quite different.
You feel him everywhere.
You feel him in the drift of your hand down your tummy because you recollect the way he likes to pepper kisses there on his way to eat you out. You feel him when you round your palms across your backside because you know he particularly likes to leave traces of saliva when he presses open-mouthed kisses there. His love for you circulates in your bloodstream, mingling with the little love you have for yourself, making it bigger, turning it into a turbulent rush of liquid. You sense it tapping beneath your skin, asking for more of your body just like Yoongi does, always begging, begging for more—for more skin to kiss and lick, for more sensitive parts of you to find and nibble on.
Your hands sense the ghost of him even when your fingers slip past your mound and realize that the film of your memories dampened your cunt. You hear the words of praise he’d utter into your ear at the discovery and you sigh at your tender touch. 
That’s a good girl. Messy for me. 
The rotund case of your body butter remains opened, forgotten. You suddenly have better things to do—like give your body the self-care, the self-love it deserves.
It’s a part of the solo girl's night.
A mewl comes out of your mouth at the first round of circles on your clit. Furrowing your brows at the pleasure, you prop your free hand on the edge of the bathroom counter, riding the pads of your fingers. And then, just like Yoongi taught you, you take your digits away, edging yourself, taking them elsewhere. You cry out at the contact of your wet fingertips on your stiff nipple and you pinch the nub, a spasm of delight coursing through your sensitiveness.
You imagine Yoongi standing behind you. Not touching you, merely guiding you, telling you when to stop, when to pick up the pace—when to fill your hole. Watching you in the mirror, hands in his pockets, having a perfect view of your slick-caked folds, of your clit swollen and asking for his tongue. Determined to make you lose your mind by teasing you, letting you only slap your pussy once you’re close. Your essence drips out of you at that thought, making a mess on the floor and you plug it in with your finger, fucking yourself steadily, inflamed by how slippery your heat is, how easy it is to slip the digit inside. Hot flashes close over your body, pearls of perspiration kissing the crook of your neck. You fuck yourself faster and—
A sudden ring of your phone jolts you. And the picture of your boyfriend, half dressed, with the early morning sunlight leaking over the scars and tattoo on his shoulder, crammed inside your screen, greets you.
You pant hard, your finger still inside of you. Delirious.
He must be on his way home. You don’t even know what time it is. 
Leaning forward, you hide your breasts behind your forearm and you swipe your finger to accept his video call.
Blurry Yoongi. The night sky, starlit and alive, behind him. A shoal of silhouettes, some lanky and some buff, all short-haired and all as woozy-lidded as you. The picture smooths into a crystal clear view and there you see your boyfriend, the nocturnal breeze brushing his ebony hair back. Not just him, however, but another male craning his neck to regard you fully. 
His eyes flicking from your neck to the smallest of your exposed décolletage, a smirk blossoming on his face like your imaginary roses. 
Yoongi slaps his phone face down. You withdraw your finger from your heat, a cacophony of giggles, whiny cries and the exclamations of his name emitting out of your mouth. 
He is not, in fact, on his way home. 
It is a warning, his low and strict call of your name back and, heeding it, you take your phone into your hands, so he’s only able to see your deeply flushed face. Device back in his hand, he’s not looking at you at all. As a matter of fact, he’s shooting daggers fueled with deadly nightshade at his friend, grumbling something that you can’t quite make out amidst the chaos and bustle of the outing. The shoal of the rest of his friends and strangers disappear out of the perspective, as if threatened by the cold energy. 
You wish you knew what he’s saying to him. Even your pussy aches to hear it. The principle of him scolding his friend for looking at you at your most private moment scorches you and you’re red, flattered and majestically horny. 
Yoongi turns his head to see if you’re well-behaved and you beam at him, the pulse on your clit intensifying, forcing you to say, “come home, Yoongi.” 
He chuckles, aware of the reason behind your words, pretends he isn’t. “What were you doing, baby?” 
The growth of your grin doesn’t falter. You show him the sheen of your wet finger in the ivory bathroom light, the glint, the stickiness as you push your index finger to your middle and pull away, your arousal on full, filthy display. 
He curses under his breath. Doesn’t give a fuck that his friend sits beside him and adjusts in his seat. Bites his lip briefly. “Stick it in your mouth for me.” 
Doesn’t say the words that so very often follow after in that sentence. Taste yourself. 
Why he doesn’t step aside to take this video call eludes you, but something about you being watched by two pairs of eyes excites you. Enough for you to do as he says. Perhaps it’s due to the fact you don’t know the male sitting beside him and Yoongi is letting him keep his sight glued to the screen. 
Two sharp inhales of breath. Not one of yours. Yoongi readies his hook to feignedly lash out at his friend and you press your thighs together to alleviate yourself of the unbearable feeling between your legs. Confidence, a bad, bad version of confidence suffuses you whole, turning you into a person gone mad by lust. You swirl your tongue around your digit, the tanginess of your taste causing your eyes to narrow, the principle of driving not just one, but two men mad just the same intoxicates you, as if you were there among them, drinking. 
A pair of round eyes peek at the corner of the screen. Soft, naive, so terribly innocent. A dash of sobriety washes over you, owed to those brownish effervescent orbs, a sprinkle shame pooling low in your core. A reality check. You sense some kind of stability of that reality beneath those eyelashes of his, the stability that whispers—is this the right thing to do? 
It’s not rough, it’s not stern, it’s not Yoongi coded—it’s anything but. Gentleness is what you detect, free of any prejudice. 
You sigh. Millions of thoughts about how you could toy with them pass through your mind, but you decide against them, the stability a pillar that blends into your spine, helping it unbend. You can’t do this; you can’t do this to Yoongi and you need to keep your dignity intact in some way, despite the fact that every fiber of your body compels you to do the opposite. You distract yourself by screwing the lid of your body butter back on. 
“Good girl,” Yoongi coos, causing you to whisk your eyes to the screen in perhaps disbelief, shame or your still pending arousal—you’re not sure. How can you be a good girl when you let another man see something so lewd? How can your boyfriend validate something like that? “One more beer and I’ll be home. Wait for me on the bed. As you are.” 
Naked. 
Heat rushes to your cheeks, to the surface of every part of your skin, dragging away small ounces of shame. You curse, mentally, running a hand down your face. Yoongi downs his drink without taking his gaze off of you, watching your reaction, adds once he swallows, “and don’t touch yourself.” 
And with that, he hangs up. 
The harsh comprehension of what the fuck just happened envelops you in a confining embrace, the precipitately increasing weight of shame now a burden on your shoulders that you just can’t shake off, even when you slink your arms through sleeves of your silky robe and welcome in the summer breeze coming to caress your face on the balcony—even when you burst your lighter to a flame and light up your cigarette, inhaling the smoke that you hoped would rid you of its such uncomfortable hold around you. 
You licked your cum clean under the gape of a guy you don’t know in front of your boyfriend. 
His friend heard the order. Don’t touch yourself. Yoongi didn’t whisper it. Didn’t camouflage his words in any way. Uttered them straight and bare, allowing his friend to hear them, despite the fact he almost fought him then and there for sneaking one glance at your moderately naked form. 
Question marks hover in your mind and the pulse on your clit cries, seemingly knowing the answer. 
Did Yoongi like it as much as you did, the aspect of having an audience? 
The wetness in your heat dribbles out, staining your thighs. You squeeze them together, the drag of your cigarette hard and long, expecting to feel your nerves burn off. You gain no such thing—no relief, no lifting of the burden, just constricting tangles in your tummy, zippy spasms of butterflies going mad, mad, mad. 
Perhaps Yoongi didn’t like it at first until he perceived the auspicious debauched look on your face. Saw the way you didn’t hesitate to oblige him when he told you to stick your finger in your mouth. And perhaps the fact that you didn’t express any signal of discomfort was the key to unfastening the leash on his possessiveness over you. 
What have you done? What have you so selfishly and disgustingly done? 
You hang your head in your hands, the white smoke intertwining with the burden on your shoulders and pressing down harder on you. 
That’s why he let his friend hear the command. Don’t touch yourself. He saw the way you indulged in it, and that awakened his liking for it.
Tumblr media
Yoongi lied when he said he’d have one more beer. 
By the time you hear the thunder of his voice, all the roses in your garden have wilted, leaving faded, withered petals in its wake—leaving a path of your internal battle all around the apartment for Yoongi to follow. You’ve paced, your bare feet stepping on them. Tried to untangle yourself from the incarceration of your mind by chain-smoking, but to no avail. The only change that took place in your body was the decline of your shame, for you couldn’t help but imagine what could have happened, had you let free rein to your desire—had those round eyes never looked at you with such purity. You figured there wasn’t anything bad about letting your imagination be colored like that, and so you sat on your boyfriend’s couch, cigarette switched to a coconut-flavored vape, and dreamed.
You dreamed about those two men being of service to you, right here on the same couch, where they would lay you down and make you squirt over and over again, betting between each other who could make you come the fastest, counting down your orgasms until the number was a mere blur to you. 
The throb on your clit heightened to heavenly levels and when you emerged from your dream, you found yourself being able to breathe—your momentary disappearance tricking your shame into leaving. It was difficult for you not to touch yourself and you opted to adhere to Yoongi’s wish, not risking to feel worse than you already had. 
The war ended, undeterred by the fact you never expected it to. 
Loud swear words roar in Korean. You rise to your feet to open the front door for Yoongi and you discover that he’s not alone at all. 
The same pair of round eyes, the cause of all the ruckus you just departed from, meet yours, hauling you back there with a force. Your mouth falls agape and before you can react any further, Yoongi stumbles into you. You almost topple over, realizing you didn’t care to steal a glance at the state of him, but the male grabs a hold of Yoongi’s jacket and pulls him back. You wish you had tumbled over and the floor had opened up and swallowed you whole. It would have been less embarrassing than to be stuck in this situation. You want to run, you want to scream— 
“He’s drunk out of his own mind,” the male says, his voice deep like the warm wind before a tumultuous storm, fitting just right with the thunder of Yoongi’s intonation, his gaze wandering over the entirety of your shock-stricken face, taking it in; giving you the same attention that fucked you up hours ago. Yoongi begins to mumble something you can’t momentarily focus on, his hands grasping your waist, lips latching onto your neck. No, you cannot for the life of you focus because the man steals you all over again and you hate how easy it is for him to do that, when you’re far from being available. “Don’t ask what made him drink this much.”
Did Yoongi get drunk because he let his friend in on your most intimate moment? 
Humiliated, turned on and angry altogether, a concoction that simply worsens everything, you draw back from your boyfriend. You want to beat at his chest with your fists just to have some sort of relief from blaming him—because if you blame yourself, only doom consumes you. Why did he call you? Or, essentially, why didn’t he step away to take that damned video call? 
“Thanks for walking him home,” you say eventually, your voice smooth, despite the violence of your feelings, despite wanting to say something else entirely. Your first words to him and, wholeheartedly—despite it all, you hope they aren’t last, even if that possibly makes you a despicable person. 
Yoongi’s friend nods. Chews his bottom lip and lowers his gaze to the ground for a split second. You wonder if he feels the need to remove himself from this uncomfortable situation as much as you do because you can’t read anything in that paleness of his countenance. Not a hint of any emotion whatsoever, just blandness of expression, slightly dimmed by the few thick strands of black hair that have fallen from his disheveled, pushed back mullet. As if they did fight after all, perhaps on the way home, or wrestled if Yoongi was being difficult. 
You don’t realize you and the male are just staring at each other until Yoongi places his hand on your cheek, brushing back a wisp of your tresses. Only then do your eyes flick to Yoongi’s and you finally notice him, the gloss in his hooded irises searching and searching for you, the rosy blush on his cheeks, dry parted mouth and the dart of his tongue as he wets it, softening the flecks that have been created there. 
This is it. If you are focused on him, all things are made right—all things that have been stained get purified and dreams get turned into dust. This is the man you’ve fallen for, who puts you before himself and has done so every day since the moment he made you his. You can’t let anyone else get in the way of the home that your relationship has become, you can’t let your feelings flee—
“For the record,” Yoongi’s friend starts, hand massaging circles on the nape of his neck, the leather of his jacket tight around his arm. Your heart jumps and beats against your chest ferociously. “I didn’t see anything, if that helps you sleep better tonight.” 
It’s such a fat lie and you’re about to shake your head, but then he looks at you with such sincere regret that, ultimately, you choose to believe him. Just to keep your peace of mind unscarred. 
Yoongi tightens his hold around your waist, which grounds you, and a small part of you begins to bloom in healing, disseminating little by little across your whole body. 
A healer with big, round eyes. A good man. 
With a swing, Yoongi closes the door but you don’t hear the click. No, the light spills in from the hallway. Your hands reach for the doorknob but Yoongi blocks them and wraps them around his waist while swaying on his feet. He traces the shell of your ear with his lips, his alcohol-reeking breath wafting over you, and softly, you whine his name. Shuffling beyond the door, feet never entirely moving—the male is still standing outside and he hears as Yoongi hums at your call, as the sound grows into a groan at the feeling of being alone with you at last, at the feeling of all that makes you feminine under his hands. He hears your gasp as Yoongi pushes your chest flush to his body, kisses you harshly and cups your bare pussy. Hears the smack of your mouths, the pop once he withdraws, the squelch of your wetness. Hears as Yoongi murmurs, “you been horny, baby? Wet for me, hm?”
It’s those words that make him shut the door for you.
Tumblr media
You made Yoongi drink a lot of water. 
And while he downed the glasses, you ordered him Thai food from his phone, which he now devours. You had wanted to change out of your flimsy robe into your plush pajamas, but Yoongi stopped you with a tight grip on your shoulder and with the nastiest puppy eyes he could manage, considering his plastered state, he begged you not to. Informed you that he wanted to fuck you in your little robe and you told him that if he wanted that, he needed to get sober. 
He’s your boyfriend and you trust him, but you don’t feel comfortable having sex with him while he’s wasted and you’re not. It’s a dangerous territory you don’t ever want to cross. 
So, now he eats as quietly as a mouse, feeding you every other bite with his chopsticks, meanwhile you’re jittering your leg with your arms crossed across your chest, mind full of the male who walked him home. Of the way he pulled you under and resurfaced with you soon after. Of the calm peace you feel all over the perimeter of your mind that peculiarly stresses you out. Of what would happen if you voiced your little dream to Yoongi, especially. 
Was it out of the question or would he consider it? 
Your leg jitters harder. 
You want to tell him, badly. Seeing his friend in real life changed fucking everything. If you hadn’t, you would’ve forgotten about it in the days to come. Yoongi would’ve fucked it out of you in most probability. But those eyes… those eyes got under your skin. 
“Stop fidgeting,” Yoongi scolds with his mouth full of food, no hint of slurring. The hot meal and hydration worked a miracle. “You’re making me nervous.” 
He picks up two cut pieces of chicken with his chopsticks and stuffs your mouth, adding a few pieces of vegetables as you’re chewing. Watches you swallow it, noticing how your eyes are focused on nothing in particular on the other side of the room. Tucking his utensils under his palm, he places his hand on your thigh, halting your restless motion. 
You still won’t look at him. Too lost in the overthinking maze, debating whether you should speak or remain quiet about your desire. A strong part of you fears his reaction and the other half is horrified at the possibility of being turned down—
Yoongi takes his hand away. Props it on his cheek. 
“I can see your pussy from here,” he says, licking his lips. “You’ve shaved?” 
You breathe a soft laugh, turning your head to face him, covering yourself with the small fabric. Dark, but tender eyes, void of any glossiness, awake and stirred—amused. Cheeks awash with color. Lips puffy, a dark tinge of red coating them. A sturdy fist on his cheek, the milky jawline underneath. That messy hair, the slicked-back look ruined by the constant rake of his fingers through them, now falling to the side from the middle. That slender body, clad in the night from head to toe—legs outstretched under the table. So fine, so delicious. A beautiful strong man—all yours. Why do you want another one? 
You slide your leg across his thighs and Yoongi slouches in his seat, discarding his chopsticks. 
“I shaved everything,” you respond, cocking your brow at him—a sly invitation for him to feel its smoothness. 
And he does. Runs his hand up and down your skin. Goes as far as lifting your other leg onto his lap, cradling them both, thumb caressing your calf. The movement causes your robe to expose you again and, cursing the fabric, you go to cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you. 
“Don’t bother,” he mutters. “I wanna look at it.” 
You raise your brows altogether, looking up at him. “You wanna look at her?” 
Yoongi smirks. That dangerous tug of one corner of his mouth to the side. Your death, your undoing, the root of your submission to him. “I want to have her at my disposal.”
You gulp and Yoongi catches it, chuckling. Drifts his hand down your calf, to your heel, to the middle of your foot up to your toes. He plays with your pinky. You note the fact he changed the pronoun after you did. 
Your arousal returns at full speed.
“Did that make you wet?” Low, low is his voice—you feel it prodding at your core, thrumming vehemently. 
You blossom like your roses, thoughts put to the side. 
“I’ve been wet this entire time,” you say, zeroing in your gaze on the flick of dimness that whirls past his eyes. “For hours.” 
He makes a sound of pitiful nature. “Poor baby.” Furrows his brows and juts his bottom lip out, making you weak. Lets his hand roam on your thigh. “So you listened? You didn’t touch yourself?” 
You merely nod your head quickly. You were too distressed to give your body the pleasure it sought. Too busy flaring your lungs with the burn of smoke. And you respected his wish enough to keep your hands to yourself. 
Yoongi coos. “Good girl.” 
A flashback—your lips wrapping around your slick-coated finger, Yoongi praising you and… another pair of eyes watching. Chills spread across your arms, your stomach flipping. Thankfully, your shame is kept at bay. It relieves you. 
“Can I feel how wet you are?” 
A sweet, devious smile. “If you can manage to get to her.” 
You press your thighs tightly together. Yoongi looks at you as if you’ve greatly offended him and alas, he turns your chair so you face him head-on. Forces your thighs apart without any strain at all—and there you feel it, the embarrassment of fucking with him, once your pussy is at complete disposal to him just like he wanted. 
“If your pussy wasn’t so pretty, I’d make you regret your words,” he purrs, eyes fixed on your drenched flesh, hands pushing your thighs back until your knees are at level with your shoulders, folds parting with the movement, revealing more of you. Yoongi wets his mouth with his tongue. 
He thumbs your gleaming lips back and forth, collecting your essence, mesmerized by them. Looks at you intently. 
“It wouldn’t hurt to say sorry, though,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. “Would it?” 
You grin at him. “Sorry, Yoongi.” 
He rubs your swollen clit in slow circles, still with his bedewed thumb, still with his eyes on you. You choke out a moan at the delight permeating through your being. “That’s not the proper way to apologize, now is it?”
You lean your pelvis into his touch, a natural body reaction unfolding. He disapproves. You scrunch your face. “What should I say?” 
Yoongi tuts. “I’m barely touching you and you already forgot your manners?” 
The only answer you emit is an uncouth whine. 
He shakes his head, putting pressure into his circles for a mere beat of time before he slaps your pussy curtly. A vivid spasm of pleasure fills you and you moan. “Needy girl. Don’t I take care of this pussy enough? What’s this behavior?” 
Another whine. A roll of your body, asking for more of his touch. “Spank her again.” 
A cock of his brow. Harsh, stern, evil. His hand remains propped on his thigh, shoulders hunched. “I didn’t hear you say please. You wanna be bad? You want me to make you cry?” 
You know just how much he’s capable of doing that. You shake your head ‘no’. You want gentleness, the kind you saw in his friend’s eyes—
You flutter your own shut to get rid of that thought. Take a deep breath. 
“Spank my pussy again, please.” 
Yoongi massages the apex of your thigh, dangerously close to your cunt, squeezing the flesh every once in a while. 
“Apologize first.” 
“You didn’t tell me how.” 
He clicks his tongue and pinches your folds and your clit between his fingers. You cry out, and then Yoongi gets up to his feet, leaning over you, propping his hand on the back of your chair. He begins to swiftly spank your pussy over and over again. You just jump at every contact, moaning, eyes flicked to his, never breaking apart. Taking it, taking it so well that Yoongi kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Then, he grunts. Fingers flat against your clit, he moves them from side to side. Roses, a myriad of them, flood your form with their freshness and dewiness, with their beauty and delectation and you shudder, you scream, you arch your back off of the backrest—
“Say, ‘I’m sorry, Yoongi. I’m such a bad girl that I deserve every spank and I’ll take it until it hurts.” 
Flabbergasted and horny beyond measure, your mouth falls agape. Your brain turns into mush, the pleasure paralyzing you, your sounds now loud and obscene, the roses in you flitting, growing and murmuring. Yoongi adds more pressure to your clit and your eyes sink back into your head, his darkness wafting over to you, seeping into your skin—now completely yours. 
You repeat after him—word for word. With a simper on your face that causes him to scowl at you, as if you dared to toy with your punishment he bestowed upon you. But then, a tongue prods the inside of his cheek and he laughs, taking a hold of his dominant role and making sure you know. He spanks your clit twice in a row, hands lifting to fondle your nipples. 
“Good,” he praises. “You like that, don’t you? Spanks on your pussy?”
You don’t like that softness. Like the personified thunder he is, it is the calm before the storm. It unnerves you, the expectation of what might come next and your disliking of it. Nonetheless, you brim with the craving to have his fingers inside of you. Your hole clenches at that and Yoongi notices, hissing under his breath. The language of the darkness rises on your tongue and you figure that if you let loose, you’ll get your wish fulfilled.
“Yeah, it feels so good—” He pinches your nipples between his knuckles and you mewl, your lashes shaking at the impact, another set of wetness coating your folds. “Please, fuck me with your fi—”
You don’t even get to finish your sentence. Yoongi plunges his middle finger into your heat, cursing at your tightness, at how slippery you are and at the delight of being filled at last, you knit your brows. With his other finger, he traces the outline of your puckered mouth, his breathing hard and ragged. 
“I’ll do anything for that pout of yours, fuck, no matter if you deserve it or not,” he utters, slipping the digit inside. Instinctively, you suck on it and only then does Yoongi begin to pump you slowly. “You just need a little roughness to be good, don’t you?” 
Dumbly, you nod, swirling your tongue around him, but a faint, silenced part of you begs for the gentleness that you know hides somewhere deep inside his chest, never once unfurled during such intimate times. 
You pay it no matter, too fucked out to think. 
When he adds a second finger into your heat, he does the same thing with his other hand. Two fingers in your cunt, two fingers in your mouth. And he fucks you with both until you gag and a light flashes in his eyes—then, he withdraws all together, leaning against the table, his bedewed fingers coming to rest at his hardened length in his pants. 
Roses, opening. Roses, sighing. 
You breathe heavily, needing to finish, needing to have him in your mouth—
“You liked being the center of attention today?” he husks, surveying your whole body, bent in half. 
There it is—the storm. Just what you expected. Cold sweat dribbles down your spine. And it is fear, what you feel, even when you refuse to admit it. Stiff, tempered fear that pervades each and every vein on your body, regarding being possibly degraded, being made feel dirty—regarding, even, tasting the dark wine of his wrath. 
Such a stark, sudden change. 
You don’t want this. You don’t want any of it.
Abruptly, an internal question comes and pokes you in the middle of your forehead.
Will you succumb to it or will you, with the wildly fresh darkness within you, fight against it?
You take a deep breath, and in with the air also follows, with the little rationality you have amidst the sensuality of your lecherous appetite, the decision to take a hold of it all. To take charge. Just like he did.
You shall prioritize yourself. Your feelings, your desires—your roses.
Your choice envelops your fear in bubble wrap. It doesn’t dissipate. And as much as it pains you, you take a mental note of that. 
“I did,” you spit out, angered by the fact you’re afraid of your boyfriend, and so you stand your ground. “It made me so fucking needy and I want more.” 
The relief that hits you almost causes you to weep and you lower your legs to the ground. Not wanting him to see the film of tears clouding your eyes, you avoid his gaze. Yoongi crosses his arms across his chest and clicks his tongue at you, disapproving. 
“Keep your legs where they belong.” 
“No.”
A lift of his brow. He crouches down to your level and cradles your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. And there he sees, under the waterfall of your hair, your emotions at his disposal. Yoongi studies you, frowns at you and you want to sob, you want to go home. Shame slithers towards your spine like a ghost, and although it keeps a distance, you feel its presence prickling your back. You cover your cleavage. 
“Why are you crying?” Yoongi asks, a silky murmur, eyes flicking between yours. His fingers don’t caress your skin; they merely hold you firmly, making dents in the skin. 
You don’t trust that voice, dismayed by what might lie under. 
“Why did you do that to me?” you ask in return, and it’s a blue fire shooting out, engulfing the room in stifling heat. You catch a glimpse of its sparks in the dimness of his eyes, of how he’s momentarily stricken by it before it folds beneath the shadows.
“You want to get fucked by someone else?” 
A question for a question. 
You swallow down the lump in your throat, caused by your frustration. 
Your devotion to him didn’t let you go as far as to imagine being fucked by his friend while Yoongi watched, but the brief flash of it in your mind is enough incentive for the heat to spill into you, mingling with the darkness, turning you candescent, traveling through you until it finds your core—and there, it stays. There, it finds home. 
The pulse on your clit returns, filling you with abrupt energy. 
There’s something about him coming up with it that makes you unhinged, but you’re so utterly sick of the instability of your feelings. You need it to stop.
“And what if I do?” you retort. “What will you do?” 
Truthfulness, at last.
Yoongi takes in a sharp inhale of breath, and that is the only reaction you receive from him. Nothing else on his face flickers; no wrath, no sliver of jealousy, not one thing. You stare at an empty canvas, ready for you to paint on. And you simply decide that you want to start. 
You push his hand away from your face. Stand up to your feet. But the hardened look he gives you inclines you to sit back down. 
You fight against it. 
Untangling the knot on your robe, you let him see your bare femininity. The perkiness of your breasts, the long dip of your stomach that he likes to pepper kisses on. Yes, you’re aiming for his weakness. 
And you decide to repeat history. 
You reach your hand down, lower and lower while he stares you down, and you collect your glimmering essence. Sinking your finger into your mouth, you make a show of rolling your eyes back and moaning faintly, softly. Your other hand, in the meantime, unbuttons his pants. 
The breath Yoongi inhaled hitches in his throat. 
“Is this not evidence enough?” you purr, dragging down his zipper. “How else am I supposed to show you?” 
You pull his manhood out as you suck on your finger, all while maintaining eye contact. You don’t touch him beyond that. In fact, you withdraw your hand altogether. 
And then, you collect your essence again. 
This time, you smear it across his bottom lip. Yoongi lets you. Your heart thuds, threatening to jump out of your chest. 
“Your actions during the video call told me everything,” you whisper, catching the sliver of wooziness scattering along his narrowed eyes. “And I think you liked it more than me—the thought of sharing me. You can’t hide it. Not when I saw it.” 
Yoongi growls. Then, he surprises you. 
He parts his lips for you. 
And the contact of the pad of your finger with his wet tongue coaxes a string of your dewiness to drip down the side of your thigh. You moan for him. Relieved, fucked up, woozy just the same. Finally, finally, finally. 
You’re in charge. And it feels divine. 
His length twitches against the fabric of his T-shirt. Long, hard, drooling. Such a delight for you—and so you continue. 
“I also think it made you hard. Not just because you called me when I was touching myself, but because your friend was right there beside you,” you purr, your voice a seductive sound of silk—leading him to wrap his lips around your digit. You moan for him, showing him how much you like that. “Isn’t that right, baby?” Your walls clench at the pet name, solely due to the fact that these soft terms of endearment have always been addressed to you, never the other way around. It thrills you. “I’d always be devoted to you, even if he fucked me. I’d look at you the entire time. If that’s what you want. I had a different idea, but yours is just—” you pause, and again you make a show of sighing and rolling your eyes back, “better.” 
A straight hit to his core. A glee for you. 
But you don’t realize how much you fucked up until Yoongi grips your waist and the hold hurts enough that you wince. 
And then—then he manhandles you. 
Lifting you and laying you down on the table, Yoongi spreads your legs. Watches you drip, watches as the satiny fabric follows the movement of your limbs and reveals you in all your entirety. He pulls you closer to him with a sharp tug until you collide with the tops of his thighs. Bends over you. Hovers his lips above yours. You expect him to kiss you—he even angles his head and rubs the side of his nose against yours—but he never does. 
He only leaves you waiting. Leaves you submitted to your empty expectations, taking charge, taking his control back from you. You shiver in anticipation, reaching for him, however he pins your hands down on either side of you. An angel in a rose garden. 
Yoongi chuckles, darkly, his teeth glinting in the yellow light. You fight against his hold, hips rolling against the underside of his length, beckoning him to do something, anything. You merely manage to prolong the thunder of his laughter. 
“One cock isn’t enough for her, so baby wants two,” he spits. That smirk, the crinkles around his eyes—he’s enjoying this. The hint of degradation doesn’t reflect what’s swarming inside of him, doesn’t reflect the face of pleasure coursing down his body. You smile and he scoffs. “I have enough friends for you to choose from in case you want more. I think you’d be stellar at taking three cocks. Four, even, huh? Would you have enough then? One in your tight little virgin ass, two in your cunt, one down your throat?” 
You gulp, frozen, eyes widening. 
Yoongi bites his shiny lips, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. Kisses you once. Begins to rock his hips, his length sliding across your wet fleshiness. The moan that escapes your throat trembles with each delicious motion. 
“You watch too much porn, honey,” he coos, giving you tiny kisses on the mouth. “I’d kill anyone who would come near this pussy. And I’d kill Jungkook, too, if he so much as glanced at her.” 
So that’s his name. You mewl, knitting your brows. That’s his pretty name. The entirety of your form shivers at the discovery, at the pleasure given to your throbbing clit. 
Yoongi pulls back, setting your hands free. 
You prop your elbows on the table, pouting. Yoongi grasps his length, spreads his arousal and begins to jerk himself off. 
“You’re not fucking Jungkook. You’re mine.” He groans, squeezing his tip; your hole clenches. “Rub your clit.” 
Like him, you spread your arousal on your seashell, the arousal long caused by his presence and now the mention of his name—the reason behind your frustration and his, the reason why you’re spread on the dining table, why your boyfriend is hard. You rub your clit from side to side, amused. 
“No,” Yoongi disapproves, knowing you do the motion when you want to prolong the build-up. “Circles. Make yourself come.” 
You change direction, obeying him. A sly grin blossoms on your lips, dark eyes looking up into his, permeating them, permeating into his soul. You pick up the pace, moaning into your expression of elation. 
“Jungkook is such a pretty name,” you provoke and you heighten your sounds in volume and intensity just to piss him off, just to have your way. 
A grunt escapes him, matching your pace. He wraps his fingers around your throat and squeezes. You hum. 
“A pretty name to moan in my opinion.” A layer of sweat coats your body. Yoongi grasps your jawline firmly and your satisfied laughter inches you closer to your orgasm. You feel the hot flashes, roses surrounding you—its tender petals grazing your feverish skin. You give in, watching Yoongi do the same, his mouth in a tight line, hissing and sizzling, an open fire, an open fire you want to be radiated by, burned whole by. “Just imagine him here, watching us. Oh my god, imagine him knowing he’s the reason why you and I are doing this.” 
Yoongi has had enough. 
He pushes you down harshly. Fills your hole to the hilt without letting you adjust, observing himself disappearing inside of you and begins to pound you into the table. The sound of skin slapping, the hard and quick strokes, the ravaged grunts he lets out, the fast change—it all takes your breath away, so much that you can’t, in fact, breathe. He grabs your face and makes you look at him. The dead of the night captured in his features, you absorb it, whining like the brat you are onto his mouth, mingling into your noises your approval, your yes’. 
Swallowing it, he kisses you, keeping his eyes open. “He could never fuck you like this.” 
You laugh. He swallows that, too, moaning. “What if he could?” 
He taps you on the cheek, a warning, giving you an exceptionally hard stroke that causes you to scream. He pauses. Does it again. Over and over—and your screams echo across the room, your own soul slipping out of your body. Petals flutter against you and you’re done for, hanging off the edge. You’re close, so terribly close. Your eyesight blurs and Yoongi pulls out entirely and rams into you. Again and again, abusing your cervix. 
You moan his name, gone—entirely gone. 
“Yes, moan my name like that. Just mine,” he mutters. “Who’s fucking you this good? Who’s gonna make you come?” 
He rams into you more rapidly than before. Your senses leave you until all that you know is Yoongi. His name, his scent, the wholeness of the night encompassing him. 
“You, Yoongi, you. Fuck, I—”
Yoongi laughs maniacally. “Yes, that’s right. That’s my good girl.” 
He rolls his hips, slowing down the coming of your orgasm, owning you. Lets your senses come back to you momentarily. You swallow, your throat dry and you blink, dazed still. Yoongi kisses you, giving you all that he took from you. 
“Who’s only capable of fucking you like this, honey, hm?” he asks, his voice tender and sing-song. “My pretty honey, so fucked out. So out of it.” 
You whine and you don’t control what comes out of you, your body answering for you. “You, Yoongi. You’re fucking me so—so good. I can’t—fuck. You’re the only one.” 
He smiles down at you fondly, kissing your nose, then your lips, parting your mouth and swirling his tongue around yours briefly. Then he withdraws, begins to fuck you again, slowly, reaching to the side for something. 
Once you see his phone in his hand, your heart stops. And when he puts the device to his ear, your throat dries up even more. You suddenly become aware of the silence all around, especially in your chest. You can’t breathe, you can’t blink—
Yoongi jackhammers into you, purposefully luring your loud noises out of you. “My girlfriend wants to fuck you.” 
You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut, the suddenness, the quickness of pleasure you haven’t yet felt piercing you. Fuck hot flashes and petals, you feel a heavy urge of your orgasm closing down on you. 
“She’s so desperate for you, even when I’m fucking the life out of her.” 
You flutter your eyes open to see Yoongi surveying you. You scrunch your face—so close, so fucking close—and then he puts the phone to your ear. Breathing, hard, ragged breathing fills all of your senses and you come. 
It’s an explosion. Roses bursting, their dew soaking you and Yoongi whole and you exit. You exit out of this situation, this world, this universe while your soul remains here with them. Vibrancy, colors so beautiful and sensations so vivid, ardent and fierce. You don’t know what it is you’re feeling or where you are. That is, until Yoongi’s voice yanks you back to planet Earth, back into this world, this situation—back to them. 
“In fact, she just came for you. Squirted.” 
You sob. Overstimulated, rhapsodic, but effulgent. Yes, you emit light and glow. You can see it in Yoongi’s softened eyes. 
“Think about it. No pressure. Just know she won’t shut up about you. I recall her saying your name would be pretty to moan while she played with her pussy. I think it’s only right you fuck it out of her.” 
With that, he hangs up. 
You brim with so many emotions that it numbs you. Happy tears flow out of your tear ducts—and happily, endearingly, Yoongi chortles. You don’t even feel humiliation or shame. On the contrary, you’re ready to come again. 
Yoongi kisses you and the sounds he slips into your mouth divulge how happy he is about this, how pleased he is with himself. 
You pout, burning your eyesight into his. He begins to rut into you. 
“What, you’re not even gonna thank me?” he says, grinning, as if he wasn’t fucking you at all, as if you two were still sitting at the dinner table, conversing. 
You stammer, head empty, silencing yourself and trying again. “What—what made you change your mind?” 
Yoongi places open-mouthed, wet kisses along the bone of your jaw, and there he seals his answer. “I made up my mind the moment you admitted you wanted to be fucked by him, but you wouldn’t shut up about him. I wanted to hear you babble for me. About me. I just had to mess you up to get to that point.” 
You mewl, running your hands through his sweat-slicked hair. Like a cat, he perks up to your touch, lifting his head, angling it. He kisses you, deeply. Kisses your relief. 
“Where are your manners, hm?” he whispers onto your mouth, giving you hard strokes that erase your vocabulary. You want to make him come and so you push against his thrusts, but to no avail. The intensity won’t allow you. 
“Thank you, Yoongi,” you murmur, cradling his face, pecking him, giving him the softest eyes you could muster so you can show him how much it means to you. 
He approves of your effort on bettering your manners and to reward you, he lifts you up and fucks you in the air. Your breasts bounce against the material of his T-shirt, stimulating you and he alters between jackhammering into you and sliding you up and down on his length. Your pussy squelches around his girth, tightening and Yoongi—
Yoongi loses his mind. 
And it’s him who begins to babble when you snap your hips down on him in circles. 
“Just like that, honey, oh fuck. So good, so good for me.” 
He takes it until his sounds grow in volume and you focus so much on his pleasure that you forget about yours. 
But you don’t let him take charge. 
“Let me fuck you, please, Yoongi. I wanna make you come.” 
Just like you, he’s out of it and because of that, because you asked so nicely, he lets you. 
His chest heaves, staccatos of his choked out breaths sail through the room and you can see it on his face that he’s close. Brows furrowed, bottom lip bleeding due to the way he bites hard on it, the way his mouth pops open and his eyes flutter closed. 
You hold onto his neck with your dear life. 
“Look at me,” you demand and swirl your hips in slow circles around his tip. “I want you to look at me when you come.” 
You’re so stunned that he allows you to be in charge, even more when he truly does open his eyes and pierces his gaze into yours. 
“I need to pull out,” he breathes, but you shake your head, snapping your hips down on him harshly.
“No, I want your cum in me. And I want it to be inside of me when Jungkook fucks me.” 
Yoongi grunts and this is it for him. His cock twitches in you, over and over again and then you feel it—the hot, thick ropes of his cum stuffing you full. You’re so mesmerized by the feeling, by the blissfulness evident on his face, by the smoothness between his brows at last that you can’t even milk him dry. You’re frozen, stupefied by his beauty, by his personal rapture and you want to feel it in unity with him. You kiss him. 
It’s him who fucks him cum into you, burying it deep, moaning into your lip lock. 
It’s him who lays you down to your original position and briefly, feebly licks the sheen on your spread lips before devouring your clit. 
It’s him who gives you the fastest orgasm of your life. 
And it’s him who tells you—in the shower—the story of how he almost beat up Jungkook black and blue once he heard him say how pretty you are.
And it’s you who checks up on him. 
“You sure you’re okay with this?” 
You’re stroking his hair in the bed, the duvet heavy and warm around your body and his, the night overflowing into morning—Yoongi, too. 
He’s falling asleep, but still conscious, still here with you, purring. 
“I wouldn’t be waking him up in the middle of the night if I wasn’t,” he whispers, opening his eyes to look at you, to see you enveloped in the extra blanket of the dawn’s rosy light—glowing, throwing the sun off of its throne. “Poor guy just got out of the military and you’ve already rocked his world.” 
You smile, fondly, thumb caressing his temple. Yoongi hums in appreciation. 
“I’m happy for him he’s getting pussy—one that’s mine. Before he enlisted, he spent all his time painting and getting drunk alone,” he pauses in a thought, blinking at the light. “You still want this?” 
You nod, settling into his chest. Yoongi pulls you closer, tucking the duvet into the lines of your form, bringing in comfort and sleepiness. 
“I’ll make sure you have the time of your life. I’ll be here the whole time, taking care of you,” he promises against your hair and you squeeze him. 
“He hasn’t said yes, though. He could turn me down.” 
“I’ve seen the way he looked at you. You have nothing to fear. He’ll come to you like a puppy.” 
Yoongi sinks the promise onto the plane of your forehead and holds you as you drift to sleep. Happy, relieved, steamed off of all the negative things you went through. It evaporates into the dawn—far, far away from you. 
Tumblr media
© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.
BACK to masterlist / READ part two 
1K notes · View notes
raventreehall · 3 months
Text
a storm of swords dash simulator
🍋ladyjonquil Follow
i don't want to reveal too much but i had a really great day today hawking and riding and received some really exciting news (and maybe a potential marriage offer!) wow wow wow!!! haven't felt like this in so long 🥰
🤡florianthefool Follow
i'm so happy for you my jonquil
🐦littlefinger Follow
thanks for sharing my lady
Tumblr media
🏹kissedbyfire Follow
PISSED OFF AT MY BF RN 🤬🤬🤬 NEVER TRUST A SOUTHERNER AND ESPECIALLY NEVER TRUST A CROW!!!!!!!
Tumblr media
👸🏼daenerys-targaryen-tracker Follow
🐎raeqqo Follow
by the law of the dothraki she must return to vaes dothrak to take her place alongside the crones of the dosh khaleen. it is known.
🐉3heads Follow
shut up and go sack a defenseless city or something
Tumblr media
🍁weirwoodzz Follow
hey do you guys remember when theon greyjoy took winterfell last year and killed the stark boys? has anyone heard anything else about that? feel like it kind of just disappeared from the news cycle, what happened to greyjoy?
🪓cerwynnation Follow
lord bolton's bastard killed him
🍁weirwoodzz Follow
oh really? wow. kind of extreme but deserved i guess
💗ramsays-sharpest-blade Follow
Ramsay isn't a bastard, King Joffrey legitimized him two months ago and Lord Roose is going to make him castellan of the Dreadfort soon. He loves his son and trusts his abilities. Plus, Ramsay is being awarded for his efforts in saving Winterfell and putting a stop to the ironborn raids in the North by being betrothed to Arya Stark—would a bastard be granted that honor? I don't think so.
Also, Theon isn't dead, Ramsay is (rightfully) flaying him for his crimes in the dungeons beneath the Dreadfort. Gods, I'd love to see Ramsay thrust the knife under his skin!!!!! 😜
#ramsay bolton #house bolton #our blades are sharp #theon greyjoy
Tumblr media
🐐the-goat Follow
i'm boutta come into thome real money real thoon 😈 💎💎💎💎💯
🏰freygirl73 Follow
ughhhh my sister is getting married tmrw and my brothers keep going on about getting revenge on king robb while he's here for the feast... like i just wanted some food :/// iswtg that's the only good thing about my siblings weddings and now they're saying there won't even be any and i'm gonna have to go into hiding before the bedding ceremony or something. why can't my family just be NORMAL
🐟greenfork Follow
TW: Red Wedding, death, violence
A masterpost on what happened at the Twins and what it means for the Northern independence cause, the War of the Five Kings, and the realm in general.
Also a bunch of links on how you can help people affected in the Riverlands.
Keep Reading
Tumblr media
🍵bowlobrown Follow
HELL YEAH BROTHER 🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀
Tumblr media
🔥heatofdorne Follow
i wanna ***** ********* on ellaria sand's **** and *** ****** then call in oberyn and ***** **** them both until **** *****
🤎pate7534 Follow
🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀
Tumblr media
🌊onthesunsetsea Follow
why are there so many crabs on my dash rn
🐺direwolfing Follow
TYWIN LANNISTER IS DEAD 🦀🦀🦀🦀
💙cassssanna Follow
actually i think it's still for king joffrey
🦁lann1sporter Follow
lol i thought it was for robb stark
🥂arborgold Follow
maybe it's for the mountain?
Tumblr media
⬛️ freezingmyarseoffonthewall Follow
DOLOROUS EDD LORD COMMANDER 300 AC
⬛️ freezingmyarseoffonthewall Follow
DOLOROUS EDD WILL LEAD US TO VICTORY AGAINST THE OTHERS
Tumblr media
🕊️ just-a-humble-sparrow Follow
mother have mercy i was walking by the great sept of baelor (i wanted to pay my respects to our blessed king joffrey) but i was blocked by a knight of the kingsguard—i believe it was one of the kettleblacks, unfortunately i always forget which one has been elevated to the kingsguard—because the queen was keeping vigil over her son, so i prayed outside instead. yet only a few minutes passed when i swear i saw the kingslayer arrive (he seemed to be missing a hand!) and enter. then, and this is the most disturbing part, i swear to the father that i heard noises of fornication coming from inside! i know for a fact that the only other person inside was the queen mother. could the rumors be true? i feel dirty even writing this. i wonder if i should tell my septon.
❤️‍🔥stannis-sweep Follow
stannis has literally been telling y'all and you didn't listen 🙄
Tumblr media
🏳️ bannerless Follow
is it just me or is lady stoneheart kinda 👀
745 notes · View notes
akumakosuke · 3 months
Text
T.w: Subbot Amab Kento Nanami x Topdom Amab reader. Breeding kink, overstimulation, size kink (kinda), multiple orgasms, creampie, praise, degradation, cock warming, feminization (calling Kento's hole a pussy), fluffy aftercare.
P.s this has been in my drafts forever!! I completely forgot about it until someone reminded me!
I'm actually going feral right now.
I watched the new episode of JJK last night and good lord MAPPA fed me a full course meal drinks included.
Did you see my husband's looking all sexy and oh so fucking breedable?
I'm writing a separate post for Toji, someone sent me a request for breeding Sugar baby Toji and I'm working on it, this is all about my love, my darling, my glorious Nanami Kento. (I still have the Toji one in the works)
Like most men I crave I literally want to marry Nanami and make him my house husband.
I want to just keep him at home (full of my cum) and take care of him, provide for him mind, body and spirit. I want to make him feel safe, loved, cared for, appreciated, needed and genuinely wanted.
I want to come home from a long ass day of running a huge company, completely exhausted and wanting nothing more than my big strong man in my arms.
I would open the door and immediately be woken up by the most amazing smelling dinner and most importantly a fresh loaf of Kento's favourite thing ever, bread.
I would feel all the tension, anger and tiredness melt away as I closed the door, finally got to take off my shoes and coat.
I would place my bag down and when I look up it would be as if God themselves came down to this meaningless float rock we call Earth and blessed me, a nobody with an Angel of my own.
He would stand there in all his glory, his broad shoulders that seem to relax in my presence, those huge pecs that always seem to fit perfectly in my hands, that slim waist that I know for a fact is still bruised from last night, those muscular thighs that could definitely crush my skull, those veiny hands that used to be so dangerous, he hated that, hold me with such gentle touches.
I would smile and he would try not to, as usual keeping up with his ‘i'm always serious because I'm mature’ act that he puts on as a facade, he and I both know he's just a big softie that genuinely cares about his friends and will do anything to protect them.
I would say something cheesy like “Honey I'm home.” with a smirk because I know he hates those dumb romantic comedies.
His smile would instantly fade and he would roll his eyes and mumble “Idiot.” and walk away.
I would laugh and follow him inside, then with a teasing tone say something like “You're supposed to say ‘Welcome back Dear.’ and then kiss me.”
He would ignore me as usual and change the subject “Go wash your hands they're filthy and I baked a new type of bread, the lady at the bakery gave me the recipe.”
I would come out of the bathroom with freshly washed hands and take a seat at the dinner table and say something like “Yeah, smells good hun.”
He would hum in acknowledgement he's listening and bring over the delicious food he cooked and his new bread then place them on the table.
Then he would stand over me with his hands on his hips causing me to -on not normally casual settings- look up at him in confusion.
He would then place an arm on my chair and turn it, making me fully face him and I would happily admire the view.
He's wearing grey sweatpants and a black swear shirt with that cute pink apron I bought him that says kiss the cook.
I would smirk knowing he only wore that because his normal plain black aprons mysteriously disappeared when the pink one showed up.
He would then tangle his thick hands in my hair, suddenly tugging on it and making me groan in pain, the action immediately makes blood rush to my dick.
He would force me to look up at him and with that ever so stern expression say something fucking hot like “Now that you've washed your hands, didn't you read the apron?”
Then he would give me no time to respond as he leans forward and roughly captures my lips in a heated kiss.
I would easily give in and let him do what he wants, this always happens. In the beginning Kento takes charge, he knows exactly what to do to get me hard enough to fuck his pretty brain dumb.
Kento is a smart man, he knows how to get what he wants. He knows what he's doing when he straddle my lap.
Those thick thighs would flex around mine, squeezing me as his crotch 'accidently' grinds against mine.
He would tighten his grip on my hair, bringing his other arm around my shoulders and deepen the kiss, mumbling a fake apology, as if he doesn't want me to fuck him.
My hands would instinctively find his waist, I would say something like “Don't apologize love, take responsibility Kento.” then I would squeeze his waist and grind his plump ass on my fully hard dick.
He would moan and kiss me deeper, then he would start to roll his hips without my help. The friction from the fabric against our hard length sends shocks of pleasure through our entire bodies but it's not enough.
Then while Kento would be kissing me, his hand around my shoulder would travel down my chest and tug at my belt. Kento would let out a needy and frustrated grunt when my belt doesn't come off instantly.
He's not fucked out enough to be whining in desperation, no I'll have to work hard and drain those beautiful sounds out of him.
One of my hands would quickly travel to my belt, undoing it with ease. Then I would undo his belt, neither of us breaking the ruthless kiss or grinding.
We would unzip each others pants and I would easily lift both of our weights and slip my pants and boxers off, Kento would stand and take off his pants and boxers.
We would groan into the kiss as the cold air of our house brushes against both our erections, both our lengths hard already leaking bits of precum.
Both of us are still sensitive from last night/ this morning but we can't get enough of each other, it's like a drug it turned into an addiction..
It's not just fucking, it's the intimate act of sex, exposing yourself, allowing yourself to be vulnerable and connect on a level more than just our bodies.
He would straddle my lap again and his hand would waste no time and start pumping our lengths against each other.
The only sounds would be our aggressive kiss and the slick sound of Kento fisting both our lengths together with the aid of our pre.
My hands would dig into his fleshy ships, god the muscle will feel hard like marble but his skin would be soft like a fucking cloud.
He would moan into the sloppy, open mouth kiss and I would devour each and every honey dipped noise that falls out of his pretty little mouth.
My huge dick would be throbbing against his, his own length is an impressive 7 inches mine about 3 inches bigger.
It's not a big difference but my baby Kento is a big boy, I would just be a bit bigger but strong enough to pick him up and fuck him till he can't walk anymore.
Then Kento would lift himself off my hips and align my dick with his already prepped hole, then he would waste no time and slam himself back down on my entire length.
Fuck, his hands would instinctively latch onto my hair for some stability, loud moans and pretty whimpers would fall out of his mouth like a waterfall straight from heaven.
My hard length would twitch in pure bliss, surrounded by his soft, velvety walls, sucking me in and holding me hostage with a vice like grip, no matter how many times we fuck he's still as tight as a fucking virgin.
My tip would be poking and prodding at Kento's prostate dead on causing him to cum just from impaling himself on my dick.
Kento's thighs would flex around mine, his hole would tighten and he would pull my hair back, detaching from my lips just for his jaw to go slack and his toes curl as thick ropes of cum spurt out of his red rip, onto both our chests.
Kento would have a fucked out expression, his brain already fuzzy from cumming just once, his eyes would glaze over with tears, he's always been a cryer during sex, not that I'm complaining fuck I love it when he cries.
Kento doesn't cry about anything, he hates crying, the only time he cries is when he's too fucked out to think straight.
The pride of a cumming, crying Kento would straight to my dick as my grip on his hips tighten, bringing him back to reality.
Kento's vision would start to focus on me and he would see a devious smile, to anyone it would look sweet, loving almost but Kento knows it's anything but.
“Did you just cum?” I would ask in a mocking tone, bucking my hips up suddenly sending shocks of pleasure through Kento's body as more pathetic ropes of cum would spurt out from his still hard dick.
He would moan and try to shake his head, his grip on my hair would loosen and his hands would drop to my shoulders, fat tears would stream down his face as he would attempt to apologize “N–No! Fuc-k ’m s-sorry! Sorry~ AHH ah~ nghh~ s-sorr– ah ah ah– sorry.. ’m sorry~ ngh~”
He would mumble out his thoughtless apology, leaning down and kissing my neck, sucking, licking and biting as an attempt to make up for his transgressions.
I would scoff knowing his apology means nothing and let him keep mouthing at my neck, I would ignore my aching dick, it feels like my dick is gonna melt, it's so good.
I would lean in a pepper Kento's neck with gentle kisses, giving him a false sense that i'm not going to punish him then I would say something reassuring like “It's okay love, you don't have to apologize.”
He would continue sobbing and marking my neck, switching to 'thank you's' instead of 'sorry', his eyes would widen when he feels my smirk against his neck and my hands lifting his hips, slowly pulling out my dick inch by inch making him whine.
I would press my lips just below his ear and whisper “Just be a good husband and take your punishment~.” then without warning slam him back down on my length making both of us moan.
Kento would let out a high pitch moan, his body slumping forward, his head resting against my shoulder, his fingers tangling in my hair as tears streaming down his pretty face, his toes curling as incoherent and broken moans fall out of his mouth as I lift him up and slam him back down on my length over and over again.
I would groan as his hole suck's my entire length in every time I pull out till just the tip and slam him back, his warm, wet gummy walls would fit my entire length perfectly, the perfect cock sleeve and he's all mine.
That very thought would make me go crazy as I tighten my grip on his hips and slam him down once more, my tip prodding his prostrate dead on making his head fall back as his jaw falls slack and a strangled moan tries to escape his lips but no sound comes out. Fucking glorious.
“Fuck– such a good slut- taking all of me without complaining, such a whore, my whore~.” I would groan out, rutting my hips upwards so the tip of my cock massages Kentos prostrate, making his brain completely switch off.
“AH~! FUCK- NGH~ MMMHM~ C-CAN'T~! T-too mUch~! S-So gooood~! Ah~ FUCK- P-please~! Wanna CUM! P-PLEASE GOD! LeMme cUm~! WAnNa cuM~ PLEASE SIR~! F-fill me up~! FUCK PLEASE FILL ME UP~!” Kento would mindlessly whine, desperately pleading for release, his large hands clawing at my back as he rock his hips against mine, trying to push himself over the edge but because I'm a cruel bastard I wouldn't let him cum so easily, especially after he came the first time without permission.
Besides cock sleeves don't get to make requests, even if he did ask nicely.
I would snicker, looking at his flushed, desperate fucked out face, eyes rolling to the back of his head, face flushed dark shades of red, sweat glistening across his beautifully bruised skin, his mouth moving spilling an endless stream of pleas for release.
He would be too fucked out to notice one of my hands leaving his hips, only registering the movement when my big, rough hand takes ahold of his leaking shaft, the calloused feeling of my hand on his rock hard, oversensitive dick would send a jolt of electricity down his spine and his eyes with snap open.
He would have cum right then and there if it weren't for the fact my hand is squeezing the base of his dick, hard, making it impossible to actually cum but that doesn't dampen the sheer shocks of pleasure from racking his brain, causing a pathetic whimper as his dick twitches and he has a brain melting dry orgasm.
“Ah~ fuck! Look at you! You're squeezing my dick so fucking tight! Mhm~ good fucking boy! So desperate to milk my cock dry huh? Fuck~! You want it? You want my seed deep inside you-? Fuck, gonna be my cum dump? Yeah, yeah you're my fucking cum dump~! M’ gonna breed you full~! Gonna let daddy take care of you hmm? Let me fuck my cum so deep in that tight pussy~? Imagine how fucking good you'd look stuffed full of my cum~! Gonna get you fucking pregnant~ Stuff you full and plug you up so none of my cum gets wasted~! Ah~ yes-! Fuck fuck fuck~! So good~ So fucking good for me Kento~! Want me to fill you up~? THEN TAKE IT-!”
I would moan out as his hole spasms around my dick, like he actively trying to milk me for everything I'm worth and who am I to deny my glorious husband's request. I would feel my dick twitching, the white hot coil in my stomach ready to burst.
I would wrap my hands around his waist picking him up so just the tip of my dick is still inside his velvety walls before slamming him back down, shoving my entire length inside his perfect pussy, my dick twitching in pure bliss as ropes of sticky cum paint his insides white, spitting ropes of hot cum so deep inside him.
I would be mercifully and release his dick, pathetic ropes of hot, white and clear cum dripping down his softening dick as a powerful orgasm leaves him completely limp in my lap, my throbbing dick still nestled deep within him.
He would nuzzle his face against my neck, tears streaming down his face, his legs shaking as he wraps his arms around me, trying to ground himself as he babbles out a multitude of 'thank yous', still trying to catch his breath as sweat drips down his body.
I would wrap my hands around his trembling frame, fingers delicately tracing the bruises on his hips, my face also nuzzled against his neck as I place soft kisses against his burning skin, slowly bringing him out of the clouds while whispering how good he was, how perfect he is and how lucky I am to have him.
We would sit like that for a while, my soft dick buried deep inside his abused hole, wrapped in each other's arms, softly muttering praises to each other as we got out breathing under control and came down from our highs.
“You did so well my love, so good for me. Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?” I would suggest after we've been sitting there for about half an hour, he would have stopped trembling and gotten comfortable, slumped against me while he cock warms me.
He would tiredly nod, not having any strength to speak and I would put my hands under his thighs, slowly lifting him off my soft cock, he would groan at the feeling of my dick leaving his tight hole, my cum leaking out and dripping down his thighs.
I would get up and pick him up, his legs wrapping around my waist and his hands wrapped around my neck, his head resting on my shoulder as I carried him to the bathroom, still muttering soft praises in his ear.
We would get to the bathroom and I would put him down on the toilet seat, being gentle as I do so because I know hes sore, he would hiss as the cold lid of the toilet seat touches his bare ass but the cold feeling would be welcomed.
I would quickly start filling the tub with warm water, getting some bubbles and rose petals to make it even better because Kento deserves it.
Once the tub is full I would gently pick up Kento and deposit him in the tub, his no doubt exhausted body immediately sinking into the warm water, letting it loosen all his muscles.
I wouldn't smile as I get in behind him, putting both my legs on either side of his waist as he rests his back against my chest, my arms wrapping around his chest as I hold him close, once again muttering small praises into his ear.
Kentos body would go completely limp in the warm water, resting his head back against my shoulder, his eyes closed as he relaxes in my hold and lets me take care of him after fucking his brains out.
After a few minutes of simply soaking in the water and basking in each others presence I would start washing him, then wash his hair and gently finger all my cum out of his puffy hole, making sure not to overstimulate him too much.
Once we're both done bathing I would once again carry him to our room and gently lay him on the bed as I grab out matching pajamas.
Once we're both changed I'd climb into bed with him, our automatic position would be us spooning, me being the big spoon with my arm wrapped around his waist, holding his back flush against my chest as he curls up against me.
“You were such a good boy today Kento, you did so well. You deserve to rest now, Darling. I love you baby, get some sleep.” I would whisper in his ear, my voice filled with genuine love and admiration as I kiss the back of his neck, resulting in a pleased sigh from Kento.
“Mhm, I love you too daddy~ Goodnight.” he would mumble as he yawns, closing his eyes as he drifts off to sleep, his mind having been fucked free of any thoughts then slowly brought back down leaving him completely and utterly satisfied.
We would sleep soundly in each other's arms, knowing only safety and comfort in each other's embrace. I would fall asleep with a smile on my face, knowing I have my soulmate wrapped in my arms.
670 notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 3 months
Note
happy new year lovie!!!! i feel bad for requesting this bc just thinking ab the volume of ur inbox is a little overwhelming and ive gone a bit overboard 😭
but..... bodyguard!james finds out his mum is quite sick right before his shift one day and leaves to take care of her after letting reader know. he has to take the week off and reader is visiting and bringing them their favorite homecooked meals everyday (which she has memorised bc, bless him, james loves to talk abt his mum) and james is LOVEEESTRUCK. she's there, bright and early every morning (with a different bodyguard bc god forbid she leaves the house with no protection right in front of james' own two eyes!!!) with muffins and flowers and bags of food in hand :( james is enamored and so sweet on her!!!!! and reader is obsessing over how vulnerable and emotionally in tune james is at a time like this!!!!! i'm thinking maybe confessions are getting pretty hard to hold back by the end of the week ☹️🩷
thank you! (if you do decide to write this or if you dont for letting me ramble on in your asks x)
Don't feel bad my love! Thank you for requesting :)
cw: sick family member
bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
No matter how many times James has visited home throughout his adult life, he always manages to discover something he’s forgotten about living there. Like how particular his mum is about the way the dish towel is folded, or which drawer the scissors are kept in, or the ungodly amount of door-to-door salesmen that come by on a daily basis. 
Lately, he’s being plagued by the last. He recalls them being vaguely annoying when he was younger, but James’ family is currently going through a difficult time that leaves one with somewhat frayed nerves. He very nearly snapped at a particularly tenacious primary school student selling chocolate yesterday. Not one of his finer moments. 
So when the doorbell rings while his mum is trying to sleep down the hall, James has to make an effort to reel his wrath back in before he’s even answered it. 
Funnily enough, any negative emotion completely evaporates when he sees you on the front steps. 
“Hi,” you say, looking apprehensive. 
“Hi,” James echoes. He opens the door the rest of the way, nodding to the fill-in guard you’ve brought with you. “Hey, Singh.”
Singh nods in return. 
“I hope it’s alright that I just came by.” You give him a sheepish sort of smile. “I didn’t even realize I don’t have your phone number until now. You’re always just…there.” 
James laughs, the mood that’s descended over him since getting the call about his mum lifting slightly. “Yeah, I suppose I am. What brings you out, sweetheart?” 
You hoist the bags you’re carrying a bit higher in your arms. “I brought some stuff for you and your mom, if that’s okay.” 
A tiny hand fists around his heart, squeezing pleasantly. “Course it is,” he all but coos. “Come on in. Singh, you alright to stay here and keep watch?” 
Luckily, the other man doesn’t think to remember that James is currently on leave, and so defers to him with a curt nod. James shoots him a smile as you come inside, closing the door behind you. 
“They put Singh on day shift?” he asks, taking one of the bags from you and leading you into the kitchen. “He’s barely finished training.” 
“He seems fine,” you say in your good-natured way. 
“He took you to a location that’s never been reconned without even bringing another guard to post outside.” 
“It’s your mom’s house, Jamie.” The smile is evident in your voice, sweeter even than the smell wafting out of these bags. God, he’s missed you. “I doubt he suspects either of you are going to try and hurt me.” 
“He should be prepared for the possibility,” James says, but he can’t manage to work any menace into his tone even to tease you. You tilt your head at him, mouth curving up to one side like you’re well acquainted with his particular brand of silliness, and he lets his grievances go instantly. “You didn’t have to bring us anything, angel face.” 
You flush a bit at the endearment, directing a soft smile down at his family’s old wooden table (which is great, because now James is in the position of being jealous of a table). “I wanted to do something,” you reply simply. “How’s your mom?” 
“She’s alright.” Not great. Not worse, which is always good. If the only thing he accomplishes in a day is that she doesn’t get worse, James can feel good about that. “She’s sleeping in this morning.” 
“Oh, shit.” Your voice drops to a hush like the breeze blowing through leaves. “I haven’t woken her, have I?” 
James grins. “No, you’re good. She can sleep through anything.” 
You lose a breath. “Right, well I brought some meals to last you a few days,” you say, digging some containers out of the bag. “It can all be heated up whenever you’re ready to eat, and—oh, also some flowers. I know it’s stupid, but I thought they might brighten things up for you two.” James doesn’t think it’s stupid at all, but you go on before he can tell you so. “Can I put these in your freezer? I brought some muffins for this morning too, if you want them.” 
“Yeah,” James says, the word leaving him on a breath. “I mean, yeah to both. Thank you.” He grabs several of the containers as well, showing you to the freezer. You both start cramming them in between things, wherever they’ll fit. He takes note of the food as it goes in, a heady warmth growing in his chest. “Did you make all of this?” 
You hum in brisk affirmation. “I had plenty of time on my hands yesterday. Turns out things are pretty boring without you around.” 
“How’d you know what to make? This is all—these are our favorites.” 
You turn to him, a tenderhearted sort of smile curving your lips. “You talk about your mom a lot, Jamie,” you say. “I know all her favorites by now. And the things she’d make that were your favorites, too.” 
James hadn’t realized he’d spent so much time rambling about his mum. It hurts his chest a bit to think of it now, worse to think that you’d been listening so intently. 
“This is only really enough to get you through a few days,” you go on, oblivious to his yearning, “but I figured I’d come back with more if you’re both alright with it.” You look at him as you pack the last of the food away, your gaze careful. “I don’t want to intrude or anything.” 
“You could never intrude.” James isn’t sure how he gets the words out, his heart ballooning until it’s nearly cutting off his airflow. The cool air breezing onto one side of his face stops, and he realizes you’ve shut the freezer. “This is just…so, so kind of you. I don’t know what to say.” 
“James.” Your voice is soft. Your smile has faded, and now you look at him with an unabashed, steady kindness. “You don’t have to say anything. I can’t stand the thought of you and your mom going through this. I wanted to help, somehow.” One of your shoulders comes up in a sheepish half-shrug. “Even if it’s really small.” 
He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you hesitate only a second before bringing your arms around him too. You squeeze him tight. James lets himself relish the feel of it, lovelorn. “It’s not small,” he says fervently. “It really…it means a lot, sweetheart.” 
You only squeeze tighter in response. When he lets you go, your gaze is sad. Worried. You ask without prelude, “Are you doing okay?” 
James gives you a half-smile. The truth of it. “Yeah, we’re alright over here. It’s hard to see her like this, but I think everything’s going to be okay.” You nod, solemn in your understanding. “Sounds like I might be doing better than you, actually, if your company’s bad enough that you’re entertaining yourself in the kitchen all day.” 
You crack a smile at that, and James’ heart lightens. “Yeah, Singh’s no you. He doesn’t seem to like to chat.�� 
“Ahh, so that’s why you’ve really come out here, yeah? You just missed me.” 
“You’ve caught me.” 
It’s said like a joke, but James’ pride inflates foolishly nonetheless. “I hate that I can’t be there,” he says. “Especially now that I know they’ve put Singh on my shift.” 
“He’s not so bad,” you laugh, heading towards the table. You fold up the bags. “Anyway, it’s more important that you’re here. And I’ll be back in a couple days to restock you.” 
James fixes you with a look as you start for the door. “You really don’t have to.” 
“I’m going to,” you say breezily. “Don’t forget to put the flowers in water, and the muffins are strawberry chocolate chip.” He grins. His mum’s favorite. “I’ll tell Singh you were raving about him.” 
“Oh, please do.” He rolls his eyes, feeling lighter than he has in days. “Thanks, angel.” 
You shoot him a smile worthy of the moniker as you go out the door. “See you in a couple days, Jamie.”
516 notes · View notes
wannaeatramyeon · 4 months
Text
Adventures of YOUR part time job in the Lookismverse
G/N. You work the graveyard shift in a convenience store. You meet bizarre characters on different nights. Part 1 | Part 2
The customers can usually be separated into 3 categories.
Drunks, students, and weirdos.
Unfortunately for you, lately the weirdos have turned into regulars. But fortunately the weirdos aren't so weird.
The one that made it a habit to check in on you, with the scars and the cheesy wink wasn't so bad. Jack, was it? You can't remember and it's been too long for you to ask. You awkwardly address him as 'you' and avoid any situation where you need to use his name.
He likes to ask how you are, tell a few jokes. Spirit undeterred even when you look at him with a blank face because bless his soul, he's not funny at all but at least he tries and he's a lot less weird than first impression.
He hangs around at odd times, then again you do only work at odd times. Telling you stories about this and that. Something about Big Deal, something about a guy called Sinu and something about another guy called Samuel.
It's difficult to keep track. It's like he wants to talk but he's cryptic and god, it's 4am who can blame you if your eyes are glazing over.
John, or is it Jerry, is waffling again. He seems to always be talking about Samuel. Who he apparently misses and wonders where it's gone wrong and hang on, he's never been explicit but you just had to know.
When he takes a breath to munch on a cookie, you ask, "Hold on, is Samuel your ex?"
Wait no his name is Jason, definitely Jason- freezes mid-chew, "Why would you say that? He's my friend!"
Joshua sprays crumbs all over you but you note how he doesn't say no.
(You think you see this Samuel one early morning. You’re pretty sure you’ve seen him before and man, he really looks like shit.
Looks like the breakup is getting to him too.
Poor Samuel and Poor Jim.)
.
.
But sometimes weirdos are just weirdos. 
It's ok. It comes with the territory so long as they're not in the habit of hurling abuse or whatever, you can deal with it.
In recent memory, there's only been two people that you have had to almost chase out with a broomstick.
You should have known they would be weirdos when one of them walks in in surprisingly teeny tiny purple camo shorts. Not that you're a pearl clutcher, but you're worried that one wrong move and he could be dangling out.
Besides. Purple. Camo. Shorts. Those words should never follow one after the other, and you repress a shudder at this guy's hideous dress sense when he comes up to you.
You thought the other one was alright, at least there's no hideous purple camo shorts in sight and his hair is nice (huh, this style must be popular, you’ve seen a lot of guys with this hair)-
But then he opens his mouth and asks for snakes and you think it's karma for judging camo-guy for his appearance when his friend is equally odd.
"We usually keep the snakes next to the ramen," you deadpan and the two men actually go to seek out the supposed snake (meat or pet purposes?) only to return moments later, empty-handed and looking confused.
"I think the snake is all sold out," Non-camo guy says as camo-guy glances around as if you might have hidden your snake stock elsewhere.
They must have thought you were stupid as you stood there opening and closing your mouth like a fish (or maybe a snake, do snake do these things), because come on, how are you even supposed to formulate a response to that?
Then you look at their eyes and also notice them looking snakey and surmise it must be some weird fetish thing. Pretending to be snakes and eating snakes and having pet snakes.
You want no part of this and tell them to get out.
.
.
"I'm Baek Hangyeol," a new face says, pointing to his ID badge pinned to the white coat. 
"Doctor Baek Hangyeol." He stresses Doctor and Hangyeol and you wonder if he is waiting for a round of applause.
You don't say anything but you do notice he looks like a teenager and what idiot would let a teenager operate on them. (Drunk, student, weirdo. He could be all three.) Doctor Baek Hangyeol must be bluffing.
You decide not to call him on his bullshit. 
"Cool," is all you respond with because you don't want another complaint for being too mouthy. You are half tempted to tell him you're not a doctor, that you just work here but that seemed kinda redundant so you keep your mouth shut.
"Do you believe in true beauty?" he asks when you finish bagging up his goods (a plain water with added minerals, a bottle of multivitamins and a protein shake) and you think what sort of question is that.
You give a halfhearted shrug and say "Sure" and he hands his business card over.
"If you're ever considering it," he tells you with a wild smile. After he has left you look down at the lettering, eyes zeroing in on ‘Plastic Surgery’.
Excuse me?! What is he trying to say?
You thought he was a weirdo but now he has firmly shifted over to asshole. You regret not telling him to go fuck himself while you had the chance. The complaint would 100% be worth it. Zero regrets.
On your break, you burn the card and feel a small sense of satisfaction.
.
.
A tall blonde guy with a creepy vibe (hold on, have you seen him before, he seems familiar. Then again, creepy blonde guys seem to be quite common around here-) walks in with the most billowing coat you have ever seen.
The entrance is kinda cool but the actual coat is kinda tragic with the cheesy red lettering and you wonder if you can pull it off any better than him.
You're still wondering about his coat when he's paying you, and hang on you have definitely seen him before because he says arigatou and hands over yen and you tell him no. Won only.
The idea of the coat, which has evolved into you fantasising about having a full blown cape, quickly loses its charm however, when the blonde gets caught in the automatic doors and you have to wrestle them open to free him.
Afterwards, you ask if he's ok, if he is harmed and can’t resist asking if the coat is ok too. You really don't want a lawsuit on your watch especially when the malfunctioning doors are not your fault.
Your kindness is repaid by him telling you he's not interested (what the fuck) and that his heart will not stray (again, what the fuck).
.
.
You accidentally eavesdrop on a couple of students lamenting about missing out on school work. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop ok, the aisles are tight and cramped, it’s a small space. 
You peek over, and the one with big ears (seriously, they are huge) is telling the one with his back to you (goodness, his back is huge too) that school is important and he’s got notes the other one can use. 
It’s sweet, you think. School is important and it’s good they recognise that. Nice of them to help each other out too.
When they both come to pay (holy shit, that’s a fuckton of chocolate milk), you’re surprised to find Big Ear’s friend, Big Back, looks anywhere between late 20s and early 40s but it’s never too late to catch up on education, you suppose.
You spend the rest of your shift feeling motivated.
.
.
“Going camping?” you ask the guy with the sandy blonde hair, chuckling nervously and ringing his items through. 
Either he’s going camping or he’s gonna kill and hide a dead body in the forest.
He’s pretty stoic, only giving you a curt nod. You can’t help but probe him a bit more. You’ve got a feeling that if or when the dead body turns up, you want to at least clear your conscience that you’ve tried your best so you make some more idle small talk.
You mention how you haven’t been camping for ages, not since you nearly burned your tent down and singed your hair after you tried to cook some marshmallows over a fire that turned out to be more of a raging bonfire (and might have awoken your pyromaniac streak, but you keep that to yourself).
The blonde guy actually pipes up and says “Master Taesoo would never do that.” 
You almost apologise out of principle due to how earnest he sounds, then he mentions something about how good this Master Taesoo is at catching and cooking snake and you wonder what the fuck is up with people and the snake obsession.
Either way, it doesn’t sound like someone is getting murdered. Only a snake (poor snake) so at least you can sleep easy later that day.
.
.
“Oh hi DG,” you say, “Sorry about your cryptocurrency falling through. Diegocoin was it?”
He blinks at you a few times in surprise and heavens above. What’s that saying, fool me once, shame on me; fool me twice, shame on you? This guy has fooled you exactly no times with his shitty disguises and his effort has substantially dwindled too. 
He has only put his hood up and you did think you might get mugged at one point-
It’s an empty store, for crying out loud. Who comes into an empty store in the asscrack of night with their hood up, not wanting to draw attention to themselves.
Then you notice the pink hair and shifty glance and duh.
“Is it the-?” he asks, putting his hood down and signalling to his hair.
“Yeah, it’s the-” you signal to your own head of hair. “Dude you really need to dye it if you’re going for subtle.” You pause, consider something, “Hold on.”
You walk over to the beauty aisle and grab the black hair dye.
“On the house,” you tell DG because this guy really has no self awareness.
.
.
“What do you mean no?”
“No." Your boyfriend peers down at you, arms crossed and at the end of his patience with you.
You open your mouth to argue- 
“No. You know nothing about Taekwondo. How can you work here?”
You look around helplessly at the studio. He’s not exactly wrong but you’re sick of dealing with the weirdos and the snakes and the creepy blondes. “But your dad-”
“I don’t care what that stupid old man says,”
“Taehoon!” Hansu scolds from the other side of the room, and Hansu's class of toddlers all whirl their head around to stare.
“I can learn?” you offer and Taehoon raises one skeptical brow.
“So you’re going to be a student?” You nod enthusiastically, “And we’re going to pay you for that?”
Oh. Damn. 
He’s got you there.
591 notes · View notes
r-rizzo · 11 months
Note
dad jon snow headcanon with a targaryen!reader? i love that we have a new got writer and hotd! ♡
father's love. | jon snow
❝ pairing: jon snow x targaryen!reader.
❝ summary: what would jon snow be like having children with you, his beautiful dragon wife.
❝ warning: mentions of sex and innuendo, worried and scared jon.
❝ note: i really love the orders with targaryen!reader, thank you very much for leaving your request, i hope you leave one again and you like this. first post! ♡
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
★, when you tell jon that you're pregnant.
at first you had your doubts, you didn't know if it was just a delay or you were with a child.
but when you decided to approach your dragon and this approached, sniffed and caressed your belly, everything became clear to you.
you were with a child.
you had talked to him before about the children, his children. jon was insecure, he didn't want them to do to his child the same thing they did to him.
but you always assured him that his children would also be targaryens, they carried the blood of the dragon and the wolves, son of the king of the north.
jon smiled and took you by the waist, kissing you and affirming that having three children with you would be a blessing from the gods.
so at night, when you were already taking off your clothes to sleep, you feel familiar hands undoing the strings of your dress while leaving kisses on your neck, you know that it is now when you should tell him.
"jon" you called him, and you felt how his inner wolf wanted to come out. you only called him that in two situations, when you were angry or when you wanted to have sex.
"yes, my beautiful wife?" he asked with his thickest voice, knowing what he provoked in you, you laughed at how his breath crashed into your neck and his cold hands went into your bare back.
"we can't do this right now, my love" you tell him as you turn around and place your hands on his neck, massaging it. a small smile appears on your lips when you see his confused face.
"i did something wrong?" he asked and you laugh, shaking your head and watching your husband's eyes widen at his smile, admiring your beautiful purple eyes. "nothing wrong, sweet husband. it's just not appropriate when i'm with a baby" you finally said.
you watch as he opens his mouth to say something but closes it immediately, the information reaching his brain slowly. his hands become lighter on your waist and his eyes become even smaller and watery.
"are you sure?" he asks with a voice that shakes, but his hands travel smoothly to your still flat stomach. "i didn't believe it until rhaegon proved it to me, i trust my dragon's judgment" you answered him and smiled, jon wasted no time in gently cupping your face and kissing you, his hands now caressing your stomach.
"i'm the happiest man in westeros, we're going to have a little pup" he says and smiles at you, showing you his beautiful silver pearls. "he'll be a dragon" you tell him, but jon shakes his head, taking now by the waist and sitting on the bed.
he crouches before you and brings his face close to your stomach, kissing him "you're a wolf, aren't you? you make me the happiest man in the world, my little pup" you smile caressing his curls, letting him call your baby a puppy.
★, when your puppy is growing up.
jon loves to see how his puppy grows inside you every day and considers that seeing you in this condition is his greatest adoration.
shamelessly caress your belly or look at it affectionately when he doesn't have much time for you and his son.
but he's always watching you, he knows you're a fighter, but you carry his son inside, and now you're more vulnerable. he would kill whoever touched a single hair on you.
when he has all his time or puts his duties aside to pamper his wife and son, he can't stop adore you.
"you are beautiful" "our wolf grows healthy and strong thanks to you" "my beautiful wife" "i hope he has your dragon eyes" things like that are whispered in your ear while he caresses your belly and kisses your neck.
jon denies it sometimes, but he would love it if his son had your eyes and his dark hair.
but sometimes it scares him too, the thought of his son being called a bastard makes his blood boil. he can take it, but when it comes to his son, never.
he already has people under his eye who dared to call his son a bastard.
he also thinks about the names, he knows that he wants to name it ned or robb, you suggest combining it with a valyrian name. he likes them but ned and robb are always his first choices.
if it's a girl, he would like you to choose the name, he loves valyrian female names.
you have always loved your mother's name, rhaella, and he would like his daughter to be named after the woman who gave him the love of his life.
he is not very interested if it is a girl or a boy, it is his and he will love it, with his being.
jon tries to always be easy on you when he's stressed, he never blows up on you. he already knows how your emotions are and knows that making you cry is his worst sin.
so, when some assembly goes wrong and some lord insults him for not responding to his request, he just enters his chambers and sits behind you, feeling how his wolf kicks in response to his touch and smiling on your neck. he loves that feeling too much.
it also comforts you when something stresses you out or makes you cry.
like your impossibility of being able to give a dragon egg to your son.
you've always dreamed of being able to see your child grow up with a dragon, but thanks to the disappearance of dragons and the fact that both your dragon and your younger sister's dragon, daenerys, are male, it prevents you from fulfilling that wish.
what makes you cry frequently.
and jon is there to comfort you.
"then he will have a direwolf, my love. don't worry, i'm sure that rhaegon will let our son ride him one day" he says and makes you feel good.
when he sees you standing, looking out the window, he always stands behind you and puts his hands under your belly, lifting it up to give you a rest. you love when he does that, it makes you overflow with love for him.
"i love when you let my poor back rest" you say as you sigh and rest your head on your shoulder, jon chuckles and lets your huge belly droop again. "jon!" you moan angrily and he lifts your belly again.
he only plays, but loves to give you breaks and massages, especially on your feet.
he is always protecting you, especially when it is time to sleep.
he has nightmares about how while he sleeps next to you, someone walks into the room and hurts you. you and his little wolf.
he couldn't take the blame.
that is why, when you sleep, he is always the one closest to the door. his chest against yours while one of your legs is on his hip, or your back against his chest while his hands cup your tummy.
he would rather something happen to him than to you, his loving wife and mother of his child.
★, when the time of birth comes.
the last time you approached the maester, he told you that the arrival of the heir to the north would come soon.
you and jon were looking forward to your son. the heir to the north and the iron throne.
jon was sitting in the weirwood tree one morning, thinking more deeply about the birth.
and if you died? or did they make him choose between you and his son?
he couldn't.
he couldn't allow someone to mercilessly cut you open and murder you. not in front of him.
so he asked, begged to the gods for your life and for his son.
"please give my son an easy birth, no pain for my wife, don't take her away, always leave her with me. i ask you to take care of my beautiful wife and my son. i lost her once and i don't plan to lose her again."
and when he finished asking for you and his son, a wind raised his curls, relaxing him immediately.
he knew that the gods had heard him.
his peace was interrupted by your servant, who ran towards him with sweat on her forehead and blood on her dress and hands.
"the queen is giving birth" he said in a rush, jon getting up quickly from the log. "is she in our room?" he asked and the maid nodded, he didn't even let her answer when he started to run to his wife.
the closer he was to the room, the more his heart beat, he was scared. he was scared for you. he loved you so much that the idea of your death only brings his as a consequence.
when he enter the room, he was already crying.
"jon" you said when you saw him come in, you were pacing around the room, trying to ease the contractions, your water had already broken, it was only a little more to start labor.
he came up to you and kissed you on the forehead, he walked with you by the hand until the time will come.
he knew his child was coming when you had to lean on him in pain. with the help of the midwives, he lifted you onto the bed and sat behind you, leaving your back with his chest while the midwives made you push.
it was the easiest birth he had ever witnessed, it was only three pushes and his baby came out.
his son began to cry and his eyes filled with tears, he watched as the midwives lightly cleaned him. "he's a boy, your grace. healthy and strong, like a wolf" said one of them, putting your son in your arms.
"ned" you whispered, caressing his cheek with your finger, which was almost the size of his face. "he's small" jon said and you laughed "my little wolf" Jon took your hand in his, reaching both hands towards ned.
ned's eyes widened at his parents' touch, jon didn't expect his eyes to be unique to a targaryen. purple eyes and perfectly black hair, small curlers were already visible.
"he's beautiful, just like his mother," he said, kissing the side of your head many times. "thank you" he said "why?" you asked, turning to look at him as jon took your hand and kissed your palm "for giving me a family."
★, what jon would be like with his son.
at first, he was afraid to touch him, that it would break.
but after his son took his finger in his little hand, he couldn't stop carrying it. he loved his little son ned and his wife.
jon walks ned through the gardens every day or takes him on horseback, he wants him to adapt to the environment that is winterfell.
but you always fill him with clothes that jon sometimes thinks his son even sees what's going on around him.
he introduced him to everyone a few days after his birth, naming him "ned, heir of the north"
you and he agreed that he should sleep with you, there are people who would harm their little son at the cost of everything.
so jon usually sleeps shirtless because he knows his son loves physical contact, he lays it on his chest while he strokes his head.
he loves to see how you fill his hungry son, and sometimes finds it funny how he takes so desperately from your breast.
"he's like his father" he says as he looks over your shoulder as his son desperately eats.
he protects his son with his very life, be it from people or words. he will not let his child be harmed or insulted.
jon is a great warrior with a sword, he knows how to use it with great agility, so he just lets his son ned watch him fight.
thanks to this, when ned was older, you found him several times imitating his father, leading him to be a better sword wielder than him.
he loves his family more than anything in the world, and having children with you is the best thing he has.
so, very soon, you will have a child in your belly again.
Tumblr media
masterlist | © vermithorider | do not steal, copy, publish my work without my consent, if you wish, ask and inform me about it, I am the one who should give you my permission.
2K notes · View notes
writingoddess1125 · 6 months
Text
The Buggy Twins as Adults pt. 2 🤡 🤡
Tumblr media
Art by Vamos_MK check them out on Twitter!
Support me on Ko-Fi ☕️
Check out the rest of The Old Man Series
• When the guys get their incredibly high bounty they realize quickly- They actually need a crew and ship.
• It was only the blessings of some sick God that was keeping them alive and pure stupid luck. But they needed a ship-
• Which for them was easier said then done.
• In truth Buggy had gifted them a ship when they first set sail- However it burned down after Bee was trying to make a new bomb and it quite literally exploded it his face-
• Which was what lead them to the Marine Base, which was also accidently exploded by you guest it- Bee
• So a ship was needed Pronto
Dee looked over the maps to the nearest village, their small dingy bobbing him side to side as he looked over his compass.
"This is so fucking stupid-" He groaned, looking to his brother who was snoring barely a foot from him. Dee kicking his brother hard on the shin making his twin shoot up in surprise.
"Hey watch it!-" Bee grumbled as he glared at his brother, fixing the hat on his head as he saw Dee glare at him.
"Watch it my ass- We need a real fucking ship yesterday. How come you manage to blow up a damn navel base but can't find a proper ship!?" He screamed as his brother shrugged it off in a lazy matter.
"Lucky!? We have a 500,000,000 berry on our head and no God damn ship! We are fucked"
"Lucky I guess?-" Bee said which made Dee damn near blow a fuse.
"Well maybe we don't have to be-"
Bee said with a smirk as he pointed ahead, Seeing a growing mass right in the distance. Dee's eyes widened at this, looking at the map in confusion.
"Wait- There are no islands for at least another day or two what is that?-"
Bee smirked at this as he winked at his twin.
"It's a floating military base dear brother. Aka our ticket to supplies and a ship-"
• The twins despite better judgment rowed their little dingy to the side of the massive tanker and climbed up- Thanks to Dee's devil fruit abilties.
• Bee whistled at the sight of her, She was hot to say the least- Long red hair and face that was soft and delicate paired with the guns at her hip he wondered if she was good with her han-
• In truth it was far easier then they expected-
• The twins slinked through the ship, Fortunate that they were able to disguise themselves far better as it just required removing their makeup and stashing the fake red nose in their pockets. Deciding shirtless was better since they looked like lazy cadets who had rolled out of bed-
• Snagging a few hats and rushing with other groups they separated. Bee to make a distraction and Dee to find some supplies and hopefully take over the ship.
• Bee walked through the corridors of the ship, hiding in random spots to hopefully get to the helm.
• She turned the corner and he realized she was sneaking around too... deciding that it was best to leave her be.
• He had other things to do anyway-
• Dee went down below and saw that the ship was towing another- clearly a captured pirate ship of sorts. Which ment there was a crew on board.
Going down to the brig he snuck through, his head lowered like some cadet who was terrified. Glancing about he noted the lazed security, sneaking in he didn't see a whole crew but instead a lone guy chained up- each arm chained seperate and he had clearly been well beaten.
"If you're here to try again you aren't getting squat- You hit like a girl" He stranger grumbled-
"No im not a Marine- I'm not going to do whatever they've done to you" Dee said calmly, glancing around to look for keys.
"Is that your ship they are towing?" Dee questioned, the man glancing up and he saw yellow for a split second.
"Yes?.."
"If I get you out of here, can we all use your ship to go? Me and my brother need one" Dee admitted, feeling like honesty was the best option.
"Whats you and your brothers name?" He questioned.
"Dee and Bee... the Buggy Twins" He heard the man snort a laugh at this and nodded in agreement to the terms.
Dee stared at the man, Hesitant for only a moment before pulling out two pins from his hair and cracking the cage open. Starting on each arm of the chain to get him out, till pausing when he felt cold metal touch his head.
"Woah Woah-" Here helping Dee said calmly, glancing to see some red head girl pointing the gun at his face.
"Hold it Vi- He's with us.." The black haired man said quickly.
"Besides I'm Bullet Proof so let's lower the gun. We can all board the ship and get out of here before we get executed? Sound like a Deal?" Dee said quickly.
She lowered the gun quickly and sighed- "And here I thought you were anti-social Alu.." She said with a roll of his eyes. "This is Vivian, my gunner and hopefully first mate" The prisoner introduced as Dee finished taking off his final restraints.
The red head rolled her eyes "In your dreams... and Let's go-"
• The trio ran through the corridors. Hiding whenever solider passed them by and keeping low-
• However it seemed they were having better luck then the other twin. While had found himself at the haul of the ship all right- along with the Vice-Admiral of the ship.
"H-Hey There Cap just passing throu-" She cut him a look and held a hand up up.
"That is by far the worse get up of a pirate sneaking on my ship... are you stupid?" She questioned.
Bee stared at the Vice-Admiral watching as she pulled a sword and glared at him, noting he didnt even have a chance to lie.
"Fucking Pirates.. getting lazier by the day" She hissed at his idiocy, blade raised already to cut him down but he held up his hands with a dazzling smile.
"Woah Woah- before you off me Wanna see a magic trick?" Bee said with a wink making the women look at him comfused- Before in less then a second he pulled put 3 balls suddently and tossed them her way, her immediate reaction to swipe them away with her sword that was till mid air she saw the skulls painted on them.
Tumblr media
"Shit-!"
BOOM!-
• The trio jumping from the massive ship to the lower towed away ship- As they Fell Vivian shooting at the rope connecting them to seperate.
• As the exposition hit the trio heard it and the alarms that rang out. Dee grabbing the two of them quickly already knowing it was his twin
• "MOVE Move!" He yelled as they went to the back of the ship were the smaller pirate vessel was being towed.
"GO GO! NOW!" Vi screamed as the three started to set sail to get as far away as possible.
The Marines seeing this as the sounds of Marines yelling 'THE PRISONER IS ESCAPING' Sounded and gunfire rang out from the Marines trying to shoot at them.
"DONT FORGET ME YOU ASSHOLES!" Bee screamed as the Marines shot behind him- soot covering his face as he clearly was caught in the explosion. Swan diving onto the smaller ship face first into solid wood. But it was better then being shot at!
• The prisoner helping the other blue haired teen to his feet-
• "Did you cause that fucking explosion?" He questioned as the twin of the man who saved him groaned and nodded.
• "Not spooky dude.. Alucare.. Dracule Alucare" He dark haired man grumbled, pushing back his dark locks as he looked at the twins. Both seeing the undeniable yellow eyes of the famed pirate lord son.
• "Damn right spooky dude.." Bee groaned out, The prisoner sighing as he helped him up.
• Canon fire rocking the ship as they all yelled and tried to stay put. As the ship groaned and creaked from the attack- Vivian jumping up quickly to help set the sails to get the ship moving faster.
• "Dracule? Like Mihawk? Holy shit dude your dad is like super famous!" Bee said in shock, Alucare shrugging at this. "Same goes with you.. The Buggy Twins, sons of a Yonko and having 500,000,000 Berry for the both of you. Not bad" The two men nodding in agreement of fluffing egos.
• Vivian rolling her eyes at both of them.
• "Wait how were you even arrested? You and your family are kind bad asses?" Bee questioned amused, The dark haired man sighing heavily.
• "Better term would be hunted down-" Alucare grumbled, rolling his shoulder with a heavy sigh.
• "Hunted? By who man!?" Bee yelled, Alucare glancing back at the massive ship thay they were sailing away from- Clearly the explosive damage from the Buggy Twins forcing the Marine Boat to stop for repairs completely and forcing the pirates to sail on woth minimum damage.
• "By her-" Alucare explained as he pointed out to the massive ship and the person who was clearly fuming standing at the front of the ship, Dressed in ger vice admiral uniform she glared hard down at the group of small time pirates- Fist clenched over her sword as she knew it was foolish to chase them.
• "The youngest and probably most brutal Vice-Admiral in history.. Lyra Beckman-" Alucare said with a hearty sigh- Bee jaw dropping.
• "WE FINALLY HAVE A CREW!" Bee yelled as the rest stared at the Clown, even Dee rolling his eyes.
• "Fuck dude-"
• "Fuck indeed... Now let's get some distance before she decides killing me is more important then ship repairs"
• They all agreed and began to haul ass away- until they were sure they were safe enough from the ship and it was a dot in the horizon. Vi glaring at Alucare before tossing a wrapped bundle at him, Opening it to glance and see some clothes and his sword.
• "Don't expect me to rescue you again-" She said shortly. Alucare brushing her off as he went to get changed.
• Bee took note of this- A swordsman... a Gunner.. his brother as a Navigator-
• "We are not a crew!" They all yelled at him.
515 notes · View notes
iruiji · 6 days
Text
SAGAU but Creator Reader has been tagging along with the Gourmet Supremos.
If you didn't know or have forgotten, Gourmet Supremos are one of those quest series that is randomized because some part of the questline can only be accessed with dailies (like Whispers in the Wind or Snezhnaya Does Not Believe in Tears or Garcia's Paean).
This questline spans from Inazuma up to Sumeru. I think there was 6-7 quests in total? I forgot. (it's 8).
Tumblr media
(These are Julie, Parvaneh and Xudong in order.) There are more characters that made a cameo in here but we'll just limit it with these three.
Context dropped, onto the short HCs.
Tumblr media
• Okay so, I didn't really read the whole story of this one so I'm just going to make some random HCs on the fly. I'm aiming for a goody-feel with this one so no heavy angst will be involved.
• Alright, so. Xudong is the leader of the Gourmet Supremos, and he only found you because when you land in Inazuma, you literally dropped into their camp and was about to steal a sausage from Julie's backpack (but there were so many ingredients there!!!)
• Xudong was fuming, lmao.
"THIEF!! SOMEONE, HELP!"
• Aight, geez, made you run a marathon there.
• The next time you've met, all three were together and they saw you roasting some lavender melon in some dilapidated tent you found while walking aimlessly. Hey, better than no shelter at all. For some unfathomable reason, your inventory only consists of food materials - with everything, and I mean everything, missing.
• God damn. It's like the heaven is telling you something. 🙄
• Anyways, yeah. So for some reason, the only access to the goddamn ingredients are locked, and you can't use it and you don't know when you would be able to use it, so you have to scrounge up whatever pitiful sources you can get.
• Sadly, it's mostly lavender melons.
• Like, you already made several dishes from this and it's really starting to grind on your gears, so you took a dive in one of the caverns and found some meat and was happily grilling it with the melons when the trio came out of nowhere.
"Thief!"
The hell. "I didn't get the sausage, though."
"But you still tried to!"
"I mean, I was dying of hunger, so.. you know."
Julie, bless her heart, gets in between you two. "It's fine, Xudong. They needed help, did they not?"
"But-"
This time, Parvaneh chimes in. "As they've told you, they didn't get anything, so let it go. And you." She points at you with calloused finger. "Who are you?"
That caught you off guard a little. Told them your name and, to Xudong's bewilderment, started chatting amicably with you. Some time later though, he softened a bit but still a little cautious. They traded cooking tips with you, and, to their utmost surprise, you exchanged many tips on cooking as well.
"How do you know all this?" Xudong asked as you finished explaining the difference between sauteing onion and garlic first.
"Oh. I'm uh, a professional chef back in our place. Been years though, so yeah." You replied as you took a bite of their chicken. "Holy shit, why is this so good?"
Julie and Parvaneh just smiled proudly.
• So like, you became a new addition to their team - but you actually specialize in desserts. Xudong has many a great views in cooking, as well as the two ladies, and together you journeyed the whole of Inazuma for rare ingredients and made some two or three journals that have been since published and loved by people. (The fangirling/fanboying is real when you saw Xiangling's message drooling about your own version of Tiramisu).
• One day, however, you lot came across a shrine - it doesn't look abandoned, oddly, but it looks really, really old. You asked them what's the deal with this one, and they explained about the Creator.
Oh.
You're in SAGAU?
Shit.
"People said they've come back, but we don't really know.."
Double shit.
• With that knowledge, you try and avoid the main cities as much as possible and only let the three buy on populated areas. Thank God they didn't really notice you suddenly covering half your face with a mask - which you only shrugged when asked.
"I like masks."
Fair enough, they suppose.
• ..oh fuck, is that Yae Miko?
"Ara, and who is this?"
Xudong, Julie and Parvaneh bows and you hastily followed.
"She is our new companion, Lady Miko."
"..yo."
She looks at you with an impish grin. "Oh?"
Dont act suspicious. Don't act suspicious.
Nice.
• Coming across the main characters from the game are very, VERY rare. You can actually count on one hand the characters you've met:
Yae Miko;
Thoma (he was going around asking for favors as usual and you bump into each other and only had quick apologies as interaction);
Kujou Sara (she was patrolling the area and asked about your mask - which you replied that it's part of your outfit. damn, her glare was fucking menacing!);
Kuki Shinobu (you were side to side buying groceries once), and lastly;
Kamisato Ayato (you actually didn't meet - you just saw him giving speech in a podium for some event you just came across).
• You figured, hey, maybe you're NOT the creator or whatever. And just tried to live normally after some time. The mask stayed though, because you just survived the pandemic back here and was cautious.
• About a year and six months with the team, Xudong suggested you come all to Sumeru to expand your knowledge. Holy shit, yes please!
• ..and then you met the Traveler on your way.
"Your Grace..?"
Triple shit.
Tumblr media
😭 sorry for disappearing for about a year - i was too lazy finishing anything. And now, I added another idea not to finish on the list 💀 wrote this whole thing in like 30 minutes motivation really is a wonderful thing, huh?
224 notes · View notes
the-one-who-lambs · 8 months
Note
uhh hello!! sorry if this is a tall order LOL but I wanna ask, do you have any narilamb fanfic recs? :D I already read yours and I really like bamsara’s and I’m waiting for epicaandk’s to update (that one is my fav ever <3) but idk what to read now lol
Tall order?? Naaaaah, I'm always happy to give recs. Oh boy, I'm gonna go in reverse chronological order.
If you've read all of my narilamb fics (have you seriously? I'm impressed, that's probably well over half the 150k+ I've written for this damn fandom. Also, to anyone seeing this from a reblog, my stuff is over at onethirdofimpossible!) then here we go!
You already mentioned it, but The Rehabilitation of Death is excellent so far! This one is by @bamsara who is new to the CotL fandom but apparently not new to fanfic writing; they have a really popular FNAF fic and I assume the well-deserved attention this fic's been getting is a byproduct of the popularity they've already gotten in other fandoms. :D Welcome, bamsara! Many of the fic writers in this fandom are friends with each other already, but we don't bite if you wanna say hi.
Feel No Evil and Language Barrier, both by @payasita. I always love how payasita portrays this duo (in both digital art and writing), with so much sass and repressed loneliness, knowing they're stuck together for eternity and making the best of it. (And maybe falling in love, depending on how dense Narinder keeps being.) What makes these come alive for me is how well thought out the setting is outside the Lamb and Narinder. The descriptions and weight of emotions really pop here.
LITERALLY ANYTHING written by pavi / @i-eat-deodorant. Depending on how spicy you want your fics to be he has even more here. Character analysis, diction, pacing, etc. are consistently 10/10. Top-quality banter between a sassy Lamb and tired old man Narinder. We constantly bounce ideas off each other and inspire each other a lot but I promise I'm not hyping him up just because he's my friend oh my god please just go bless your eyes.
It Was For You, O Death by blueberry-muffin-massacre (if they have a tumblr, let me know so I can tag!). An intriguing alternative ending to the final battle wherein the Lamb chooses a secret third option by refusing to give up the Red Crown and still observing Narinder as the God of Death. So many details are so well thought out and duality their relationship is nicely characterized-- both genuine care for each other and also quite unhealthy. A fine line treaded well!
Confessional by jusmove (again, lmk if they have a tumblr). Been a while since I've read it, but I love how the Lamb chips at Narinder's very carefully built emotional walls. Their personalities are very well fleshed out here, especially Narinder's cognitive dissonance at being able to process love.
Confession by @thewitchoftheweed. I didn't expect a part two to this one, but my god I was so thrilled when it did update. Narinder and Lamb with their unique and parallel loneliness and their fucked-up sense of everything. Their relationship is very rocky here, and I love how they navigate it: with tension and eventual, pained acceptance. Mind the rating.
Of Character Development and Being Dense by @calliecature. A short and sweet narilamb classic. They're both mutually pining and one of them is too emotionally repressed to realize it. Guess who.
Not An Offering, But a Gift by @checkplzjuliet. Small confession fic. I especially love how Narinder's descriptions twist the knife of his situation here, and how Lambert is a total foil for him! There are a lot of good things happening in such a short span, which is impressive.
Also, if you think you've read all my narilamb fics... I do have a secret one out there too. Just so you know.
Happy reading!
I'm already friends with many of the people here, but if any of the writers I've tagged have been kinda wanting to reach out for a while but feel a little anxious... Don't be. I've made my best friends in this fandom by literally just waiting for some of my readers to get over whatever assumption they have that I'm cool and say hi. Or being the more confident one first.
671 notes · View notes
cdbabymp3 · 1 month
Note
need hamzah HEADcannons... like giving and receiving. weve discussed him holding hands but think abt him being soooo nervous the first few times he goes down on reader. i also think he would be one of those guys that keeps count of how many times u cum so he knows he's satisfying u. also i feel like after a few months in the relationship when he's receiving and he gets comfortable he kinda becomes a headpusher :P
𐙚HEADcannons ― hamzahthefantastic
notes/warnings: nsfw !! hamzah giving and receiving head :3 (lord save me) sorry it took me so long to get to this request angel !!
nervous asf to post this for some reason, pls be nice
Tumblr media
giving
-yeah ... this boy holds his breath he's so damn nervous the first two or three times god bless him 😭
-he's a smart guy though so it doesn't take long for him to figure out your body and what you like/don't like
-being a pragmatic person, he experiments with different angles, speeds, roughness and takes a mental note of how vocal they make you and how much your squirm with pleasure
-he's a big kisser when he eats you out ?? idk i have such a clear image of him literally making out with your heat (the cake video....) and giving your clit a sweet kiss even when you're sensitive from cumming
-speaking of kissing, i know damn well this boy is dragging out the foreplay as long as humanly possibly. he's a tease, whether he's aware of it or not SO he'll kiss your inner thighs and bite them 💝
-he's a munch, i will die on this hill. i know those sexy plump lips are put to good use on you
-when words aren't enough during an argument or you're sad/stressed, he will literally offer to eat you out (but he still gets shy abt it, so cute)
"i'm sorry, baby. i can make you feel better if you want...?"
"mm? how so?" you tease him, knowing what he's trying to say
he'll blush so baddddd
"i-uh- if you want, i can...y'know?"
-big believer that he holds your legs/hips down if you jut them up while he's working on you
-he'll do that slutty tongue click if you start to buck your hips eagerly and be like "nah, i got it baby, just relax" 😵‍💫
-LOVES when you grab onto his hair and pull it ... the way your fingers rake through his curls and tug them encourages him like crazyyyy
-he's a bit messy with it if ykwim... very sloppy and wet
-will not stop until your legs are shaking, like you will have to PRY him off of you
-lowkey surprises himself the first time your legs tremble. also kind freaks him out lmao he can be so clueless i love him
"holy fuck.... that's a good thing right? "
-likes to overstim!! not so much for the kink of it, more so for his own self confidence to make sure he's making you feel good 🙁 because of this, he'll count how many times he can make you cum before you get too sensitive. he's a bit of an overcompensater but you’re not complaining
-he's so pussy whipped bye
-geuinely craves you on the mf daily and it will come out of NOWHERE
-he could be editing a new vid and suddenly have this insane urge to be between your thighs and taste you
receiving
-WHIMPERER AND CRIER 1000000%
-ik yall know what i'm talking abt bc there have been times in vids where i swear i've heard him whimper from a jumpscare
-he gets so submissive when receiving oh lordddd
-he'll beg you all pathetic and does not give a fuck
"fuck, y/n, please keep going, please, please, oh fuckk please"
-his voice will crack too and it's adorable
-if you gag easily me he makes sure to stagger how much of him you take
-he would love if you could take all of him, but he never wants you to feel uncomfortable or like you have to
-head pusher :3 not until later in your relationship but when the time comes and you’re both comfortable, he’ll have his fingers through your hair, carefully guiding your head back and forth
-likes to cup the side of your face while your work on him, especially if he’s feeling extra intimate that day
-PRAISE PRAISE PRAISE 🔊 likes to receive it but gives a lot of it as well
“so good, sweetheart”
“like that, baby-fuck mhm”
-he’s nearly been in tears from being so touch starved and finally getting head 🤕 it's so pretty when his eyes are all glassy and half-lidded
-you have to make sure he’s still breathing sometimes bc he’s so overwhelmed with stimulation that he’ll go nonverbal lmfao
-screws his eyes tightly shut almost the whole time, if they’re not closed he’s making the most submissive eye contact with you, watching your every move
-sometimes he has to hold onto something else or sit down bc his legs get so weak
-no matter how many times he gets head, he always acts likes it's the first time
-he’s at your mercy fr 🎀
Tumblr media
໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა taglist ; @forevergirlposts , @junebugin-july , @itgirlvirgo , @sie17136 , @1312006 , @kingvioleta , @hrt-attack , & @scarvain , @ldrvinyl
i always feel like i'm forgetting ppl on here idk why 🧌
228 notes · View notes
somewhere-on-venus · 2 months
Text
So you want to worship Aphrodite?
Tumblr media
Aphrodite goddess of love, beauty, sexuality and so on.
Born of seafoam, goddess of the peoples hearts.
Aphrodite has been a big part of my life for awhile... Shes blessed me in many ways! And if you want to work with her I hope to help you.
I won't be going into her history in this post, this is more of a guide on how to get started on worshipping her.
The first thing alot of people ask about is how to build that connection, how to reach out. With any deity I work with I started out leaving an offering, lighting a candle and/or incense and offering my devotion through prayer. I then usually follow up with divination of some form to build on the relationship and get to know them. As for offerings I find it can be flexible to what you have. But I'll list off some traditional and other kinds of offerings here first!
Offerings~
• frankincense incense
• apple
• eggs
• strawberries
• chocolate
• honey
• roses
• olives
• wine/mulled wine
• raisins/grapes
• perfume
• cosmetics
• shells
These are just a few but there are plenty more.
I personally when I'm short on any of these I offer her some of my own food. Theres been times where she has gotten a pizza pocket but a big thing is to remember is to not stress about this! The gods are understanding, they won't be mad and Aphrodite certainly wont be! The biggest thing that matters is that it comes from the heart...
Ill also listen some plants and food associated with her as it might also be helpful for offerings.
• rosemary
• hibiscus
• Jasmine
• myrtle
• mint
• cinnamon
• basil
• cannabis
• lettuce
• strawberries
• pomegranate
• iris
• myyrh
• vanilla
• ginger
• peach
• frankincense
Associated animals
• doves
• sparrows
• waterfowl
• dolphins
Crystals
• rose quartz
• pearl
• aquamarine
• jade
• moonstone
• rhodolite
• carnelian
Setting up an altar
Personally I set up a small altar space first... I see it as welcoming them into my home, healing them settle/get comfortable. It would be like maybe getting your home presentable and such for a new friend coming over. And I believe that when approaching the gods you should do it like that, great them as a new friend. Be respectful, don't rush into it and be welcoming.
When I first set up my altar to Aphrodite I looked around my room for what I could use first. I wouldn't rush into buying stuff until you've established that connection.
I searched for shells, pink items, fake flowers etc. I even put toys and jewelry that reminded me of her on there. I also used a tea light and pink spell candles.
This was my first altar:
Tumblr media
If you have any questions let me know.. I will do posts like these on other deities I worship soon 🩷
(also this is from my personal experience.. I hope it is helpful though)
266 notes · View notes
cynostellation · 1 month
Text
ghostsoap coffee shop au where Soap has been down bad for the past 2 years since he started working at the coffee shop and first saw the hot tattoo artist working across the street, but he had never made any moves because 1. he doesn't even know if Ghost is interested in men (or anyone, really) and 2. the guy seems too reserved to enjoy someone throwing themself at him, so instead, he just settled for small talk every time, trying to make Simon warm up to him slowly. They became friends, of course, no one could resist Johnny and his charm, even if the Brit always denied it and stayed rough around the edges. And then a new barista comes into the picture, a gorgeous one. They were all over Ghost the second they saw him.
To say that his blood was boiling every time he saw that would be an understatement, a big one. There was nothing in those moments he hated more and if looks could kill, the new barista would be long dead. Too bad it didn't work. Too bad Soap, instead of just telling Ghost he liked him, watched the way the new one was flirting with Simon so openly and the tattoo artist was playing into it.
Johnny had became so fucking grumpy after a week of that, everyone noticed, especially Ghost, because he was on the recieving end of it. And if there was one thing Johnny could do, it was being passive aggressive while mad.
Don't be fooled though, he wasn't unprofessional, but he definitely cut the small talk, turned down Ghost every time he tried to chat, gods, he even made up tasks to do just do he didn't have to be around Ghost and the new guy if they had a shift together and the artist came around. Everyone noticed.
Gaz tried asking, of course, the good friend he is. He knew Johnny fancied Simon, so the sudden change of hearts was unexpected until he saw the new barista with Ghost. It all made sense suddenly.
That's how Kyle came up with a way to force Johnny to finally talk to Simon.
To be fair, it wasn't hard, convincing his friend. The hardest part was making him admit that he was jealous, then it all went smoothly. Soap was of course, still grumpy and still angry with Ghost for not putting two and two together, but Kyle, gods bless this man's soul for putting up with it all, could be really persuasive.
And that's how, through a needlessly complicated and twisted plan that could have been executed in many more simple ways, Simon finally took a hint as to why his favourite barista was mad at him, and – of course – he did his best to make up for it. Not openly, he wasn't some soppy teenage boy that would turn into a puddle when someone he fancied was angry. It was just simply not him to act that way. So, instead, he left little gifts for Soap, nothing overly elaborate, he'd, for example, buy something to eat with his coffee, things he knew Jonny enjoyed and leave them for the Scot, instead of taking them, always brushing it off as "not having enough time to eat" when he finished his drinks.
It took a good month for John MacTavish to get over it, over thirty days of Simon doing little things for him so the barista would go back to his previous self. Him and Ghost may and may not have gone out after that, too, but that's a story for another day.
I wrote this at work mostly lmao (I don't even work at a coffee shop) (don't eat me it's the first writing I've posted properly in years) (you won't see me here for months after this 🫶)
it's embarrassing to post anything on Tumblr so if this flops I'm deleting my account and burying myself 3 feet under
171 notes · View notes
freyarabbit · 3 months
Text
Imagine Megumi waking you up when you doze off in the bathtub after a tiring day...<3
Established relationship ♥︎...
Nsfw ✞...
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The fragrance of the Lavender candles you'd lit blessed your senses as you laid tiredly in the bubbly water of your bathtub.
To say you were exhausted would be an understatement... The warmth of the water was just right. Though you felt as if something was missing, you still believed this was about as perfect as your little destressing session could get.
Your thighs peaked out of the foamy water, your body glistening as the candle light reacted with its wetness. The bruises you'd received earlier today while fighting, seemed to have numbed their pain, you couldn't feel much on them anymore.
All the more better.
Beginning to feel yourself slipping away, you adjusted into a more comfortable position, as your eye lids got heavier and shut.
Nsfw below the cut---✮⋆˙
Megumi opened the front door to you both's shared home, his face expressionless and tired as usual.
He knew seeing you is all he needs to change that. He took off his shoes, putting them in the same spot beneath the worn out brown cupboard next to the front door.
As he walked in a little further, he already knew where you were, from the lingering scent of Lavender and the steam seeping out of the gaps in the bathroom door.
Well aware of what to do next, he stripped, quietly going inside shirtless. He was expecting you to look at him with that smile that still gave him butterflies and welcome him back, but instead, he was met with the cutest thing he'd ever seen. You dozing off in the marble tub like a tired little kitten.
The way your wet hair was in your face and your quiet, soft sighs made blood rush to his cock. "Damn it..." He mumbled to himself, as he crouched before you, bending to give you small pecks on your adorable face until you wake up.
Feeling his hot breath and kisses on your sensitive skin, you woke up, fluttering your lashes, as a smile forms on your face. "Mmnh...hey M'gumi..." you greet him, pulling him down to give him a longer and wetter kiss on the cheek.
He looked at you with a gentle smile, before frowning as he saw your bruises. "Do they hurt?"
"Nope...especially not now that you're here, hon..."
You sat up in the tub, causing your pretty little titties to come out of their hiding in a sheet of foam, as they came into his view. God he needed to be inside you so bad.
He got into the tub, with you, or more appropriately, on top of you, getting off of the way you shyly looked away, even though you'd both been together for so long.
His hand rested right beside your left tit, as he looked at you, speaking in low tone,
"Can I...?"
You nodded quickly, waiting in anticipation as to what he'd do next.
Upon receiving permission, he began getting rougher, the implied gentleness nowhere to be found, as one of his hands played with your tits, and the other slid between your legs under the water.
"hh..A-ah-", sounds of evident pleasure managed to flee from you. God, you always forget how good he is with his fingers. They're so long too-
Him using his fingers alone was enough to satisfy you. But his dick was on a whole new level.
"I'm sorry, but you're always so tight baby...I won't be able to fuck you if I don't do this..."
He ran his tongue across your sweet lips, your jaw line, this gentle gesture turning into aggressive bites, as his teeth ravaged your neck, leaving red marks on it. But as he'd known, this made you even wetter.
Your whimpers turned into loud moans, eyes tightly shut, as you got your first orgasm. Your legs shaking, as you caught your breath again.
"I think you're ready now."
He pulled your legs to wrap around his waist, as his tip teased your sensitive entrance unintentionally. His hands held you down by your arms as he began pushing into you, groaning a little. You threw your head back, in what you could only call ecstasy.
You felt like you'd explode if he moved inside you now. But that, of course, was inevitable.
As he pistoned in and out of you, he bent down, wrapping his arms around you to keep you above the water, his head buried in the valley of your cute little titties while the angelic sounds of your mewls and moans met his ears. He felt like he could stay like that forever, and ever and e-
"M-Meh-gumi-..!" Hearing you scream his name while you climaxed. That pushed him over the edge, as he came inside you.
That warmth, you could never get enough of it.
He breathed heavily against your chest, before catching you in one last rough kiss, holding you close as your walls milked him for what he was worth.
Pulling out of you slowly, he watched the white liquid come out of your little hole in small globs.
He felt like he could go again just at the sight of that, but his attention turned to your fucked out face. "So damn pretty..."
He knew you were exhausted, so a second round wouldn't be very considerate on his part.
His hand held you from the back of you head, gently pulling you towards him, hugging you tightly.
"I love you"
"Mnhhh..l-love you too, Megumi..."
...
Once you two were done bathing, he wrapped a towel around you, carrying you out into the living room in bridal style, making you take a seat on the couch as the TV played some unknown show with little dialog.
"How about we order Chinese today?"
He asked, slipping on a comfortable pair of clothes, and then begining to rummage through your closet to get you a pair of new panties and clothes as you replied with words of approval.
<3
372 notes · View notes
astaroth1357 · 1 year
Text
My Incredibly Spoiler Heavy Thoughts on Nightbringer
TURN BACK IF YOU HAVE ANY INTEREST IN PLAYING THE GAME AT ALL. I MEAN IT.
Hello. I have completed all 10 lessons on the Normal difficulty. These are my thoughts:
First, a disclaimer. All of this is my opinion. If you feel differently about a character or plot point, that's fine. This is all just as I see it.
Holy hell, I love the setup here so damn much. The Nightbringer story so far is truly more than just a rehash of the OG plot, largely because of all the small stuff that keeps happening in background. Yes, we're befriending the brothers again, but we don't know WHY. Why are we in the past? Who sent us there? What do they want from us, or... what do they want out of somebody else?? 👀 I have to hand it to the writers for coming up with this premise, it's soild. Will they stick the landing...? We'll see.
The New! (Old) Cast
Lucifer:
Whelp, Luci is being colder to us than ever... But far more openly involved with his brothers than we saw previously. You can really tell that this is fresh off of the War and he's just trying his best to keep everybody corralled and (somewhat) comfortable.
He still holds onto his Celestial Realm prejudice against demons, so he doesn't trust MC at all which is an interesting turn on the dynamic from before. As a human, Lucifer saw us as weak and insignificant so he didn't give us much time of day. But as a "demon," and someone more knowledgeable about the Devildom than himself, he has to suck it up and rely on MC even if he wants them to stay away.
By the end of Lesson 10, it's safe to say whatever trust he had in MC is going to be shattered. MC has talked their way out of a lot, but even Dia looks shaken by their abilities this time... I'm curious to see if they can reestablish a relationship with him when he was already keeping them at arms length to start with.
Mammon:
Ah, Mammon... Once simp, forever a simp across time and space. Bless him. I guess he's just doomed to always fall first when it comes to MC. It DOES NOT take long for him to be down bad even if you don't romance him specifically (I would know because I'm trying to stay mono-Levi this go around).
Aside from his tsundere-ness, though, we do get a look into more of his insecurities. I find an interesting pattern developing in him where he just tends to latch onto a person and follow them unfailing. He did that with Lucifer before the Fall, he didn't even think about the consequences before going through with it. You could see him doing much the same with MC. I think it stems from a lack of confidence in himself and his own abilities, constantly relying on others to guide him through big decisions and provide him with validation. Add another poor thing to the list...
Leviathan:
I swear to God, the devs realized that Levi's charm lies in his pathos, so they went out of the way to make him EVEN MORE pathetic than normal. I still love him for it, of course. But seriously, Levi starts out practically afraid of his own shadow when the story starts. It makes sense, Levi would have probably one of the more negative impressions of demons of the seven, having fought them head on. He was a shut in before the War and now he's even more terrified to leave the house, let alone his room... (I can't be the only one who's wondering how the hell Dia's going to look at him and go, "Ah yes! I see Admiral material right there!" right?)
I do like that the writers took the time to show that he's one of the more empathetic brothers, right alongside Asmo and Beel, even if he's bad with people. Levi is quick to sympathize with beings and creatures who don't fit in and it's always very sweet to see. I also guess that Simeon wrote TSL in secret or after the War? You think he would know of it at least having lived so long with the author... Anyway. I digress.
There's a lot of... small things around Levi that I think hint at the inner feelings of the brothers, though (of all seven of them, he has the WORST poker face I swear). I may touch on those in another post because I need time to gather my thoughts on how it all connects there... Anyway, he's still my favorite and I'm going to try to see if there's any truth to this "you get a deeper connection if you stick to one brother" thing. Wish me luck.
Satan:
Okay, load your guns now because I think Satan is the real star of the show here. They're actually pulling way more than the "He's mad because he's seen like Lucifer" card. We're at a point where Satan doesn't even consider himself associated with the brothers AT ALL. That means something and has consequences on the story. He didn't even go with them to check on Beel, despite having enough fire power that he could have probably helped a lot.
Now before someone goes screaming at me that they've devolved him into comic relief, I'd first like to ask what did you think he was going to be? OG Satan told us himself that he used to feel nothing but anger. He's going to be pissed, irrational, and violent. He's Wrath.
What truly they're giving us under all of that is a look into a vulnerable guy who doesn't know anything about the world around him and is trying to pick it up on his own because his brothers can't (and maybe won't) teach him. They keep chaining him up (which I hate btw) and talk about him like he's a beast. But it's partially because they're such terrible communicators that he flies off the handle so often to begin with.
Satan is more alone than really anybody else is the Devildom. His brothers already have all this history together and memories shared during their time as angels, stuff he has no context for and could never experience himself. He's still an outcast among demons for his association with them, despite being a fully fledged demon in his own right, and he doesn't know why he has to be linked to them because he barely knows them anyway. He's taking baby steps to understand the world, but when he goes to his brothers to ask questions they lampshade him for even having clear thoughts. All they see him as is a roaring beast. This version of Satan is fascinating to me. How does he start here and end up the eloquent, emotionally-controlled bookworm with a planet's worth of connections? I gotta know!!
Asmodeus:
They FINALLY started giving Asmo his proper flowers! I still think it could have been more, but he's gotten way more depth than he had before. I know that Asmo part technically involved MC's input the least out of all of the brothers, but I think that was by design.
Asmo is a surprisingly introspective individual under his urge to perform. MC didn't have to give much input because he just didn't need as much. He knows himself very well (unlike some of the others). He's an emotionally intelligent guy who can sort out his own inner problems and remain empathetic enough to want to help his brothers in his own way. I wanted to hear more from this side of Asmo, honestly, but the game seems to make it clear that he's content with his spot of being the family's brightest smile. I hope it makes more appearances as we go on.
Beelzebub:
This one is tricky, because lesson 10 leaves off on a cliffhanger related to Beel... So I think Beel's feelings will have more consequences than the other brothers' on the story. Most of all that we see of Beel is, unfortunately, him being hungry or off being wholesome with Belphie but lesson 10 did give us some eye-openers regardless.
First, apparently if he flies off the handle, Beel is quite the challenge to handle. It takes Dia himself to restrain him, which is pretty insane for the sixthborn in the line-up. It's possible some outside magic is cranking up his power somehow, but we won't know until the next lessons are out.
Secondly, I find it very interesting that Beel's "heart-to-heart" moment with us is being saved for last... It was definitely the most surprising one of the secrets in the teasers (in my opinion). Beel and Belphie are glued to the hip and share everything together so for him to have a secret "not even Belphie" knows is pretty shocking. I hope it's not just that he saved Belphie instead of Lilith since we all already know that. It'd be a pretty cheap pay off to all this buildup... Not that I haven't been disappointed before or anything.
Belphegor:
Similar to Beel, Belphie doesn't get much attention until the end and it isn't much that we haven't heard before, unfortunately. You kind can't blame them, since plumbing out Belphie's inner trauma about the War was the entire climax of the first game. It's nothing we don't already know. That being said, I think there's some more interesting things that are being said about Belphie or left unsaid by the others that I find more fascinating to keep track of.
TLDR, I think there's some weird distancing going on between Belphie and the others. It doesn't seem super apparent, but Levi dropped some weird bombshells early on and I can't help but notice how he just never seems to be without Beel. Those two are close, yeah, but in this game they're practically a unit. I'm pretty sure Belphie is using Beel as a security blanket of sorts. He's also the ONLY one to mention Lilith in any great detail. Unsurprising, but it's worth noting that the others haven't really brought her up despite it (supposedly) starting the War.
Diavolo:
Somebody give this guy a vacation and a raise... So apparently, the brothers were cast down, the old King took one look at them and counted to seven, then conked out. Now our boy has to rule the kingdom. He's... the same really. As far as I can tell. You can really see how much he's taken to the brothers' antics though, which checks out in the other game too.
WAAAY more fascinating to me is apparently there's some kind of body called the House of Lords who think that Dia is too young for the job. What's the House of Lords?? Who are they? Are they like a council or advisory board...? Or is this a UK setup? Is there a Parliamentary board?? I dunno, could just be my Poli Sci talking but I'm now so lost on how the Devildom operates now...
Barbatos:
Oh my God, if there is any character I could live vicariously through, it was Barbs here. For whatever unnamed reason he is NOT having any of Solomon's shit right now and I'm living for it. Setting my delight aside, we don't get to see very much of him and what we do see doesn't really differ from the norm, which only makes his detest all the more shocking.
Through Barbs, we also see just how potent the power of the pacts can be when Solomon summons him and more or less forces him to do as he says. Nothing seems to stop him from retaliating after the fact, as he sent Solomon off who knows where, but seeing that kind of power wielded over a being who's almost unattainable to us is... Well. I feel bad for Asmo.
Simeon:
There's a lot to unpack with Simeon... and a lot of it is in the stuff that goes unsaid. First, I already found it strange that he didn't seem surprised to see Satan in the House. Or if he was, he didn't say it or bother introducing himself which is... telling for a guy like Simeon. He's back to being Luke's minder in front of demons, but I can't help but notice that he doesn't do much to counter Luke's tirades. He only indicates that it's impolite to say them, so he may still harbor the very same feelings.
Simeon and Lucifer have something of a heart to heart together that they never would in the OG title where Simeon admits his biggest regret. It isn't that he didn't follow Lucifer, as we might think, but that he doesn't feel like did enough to reach out to him before he made his decision. Lucifer dispells this, but I think it goes to show that Simeon stands behind his decision to stay and that it was the better option. Lucifer also confront Simeon on why he didn't take a high position (seraph) and instead settled for archangel. It's left open ended what his real motives for that would be, but I suspect that it has something to do with Simeon's troubling streak of going against the grain, even in subtle ways. Or he has too much anger about what happened to accept taking Lucifer's old position.
I found it interesting how easily these two seemed to talk about intimate topics together here where Lucifer barely even acknowledges Simeon's attempts to reach out in the OG story. I wonder what may have happened to sour their relationship so severely...?
Luke:
Luke the Racist Chihuahua returns!! Okay, I'm being a little mean but he's pretty much just self-righteous little kid the whole way through. I will admit, it is a little funny that the person who came up with the nickname was actually Lucifer. I think it's now retconned and confirmed that Luke and the brothers never knew each other before the Fall... though Luke seems to know OF their former selves in some capacity. I could be misinterpreting things though.
The Rat Bastard Solomon:
I swear to God this was me playing through the whole game tied to this guy.
Tumblr media
He's lying. A lot. Constantly. And it pisses me off to no end. I was wondering why things he was saying and the stuff he was doing weren't lining up and OF COURSE it's because he's either working his own agenda or being outright deceitful. I hate him so much, y'all, you don't even know...
That aside, as an impartial observer Solomon is pulling a lot of work to support MC and you can TELL how down bad he is for them, which actually has significance for the plot I think. He's keeping them in the dark about something, but considering his feelings I say we can at least be charitable and assume it isn't to hurt them or cause them any suffering... intentionally. He's also as unscrupulous as ever, considering how he ordered a very angry Barbs around and more or less took advantage of a life or death situation to make a pact with Asmo.
So. At the end of the lessons, we're reintroduced to the mysterious Nightbringer. The character who actually sent us back in time at the start of the game. Yeah, it wasn't Barbatos... probably. At least not our reliable neighborhood butler anyway. They seem to be different entities but I THINK they might share some connection....
I have to wonder who disguised MC when they first arrived. The marketing made it seem like it would be Solomon but the marketing has been hit or miss on actual accuracy about the game we're seeing. If it was Solomon, then he had to have known where the MC was before he called. If it was Nightbringer then... well actually. We need to touch on that first.
Nightbringer:
Now, much of this is just me speculating so take things with a grain of salt. Nightbringer's name is blocked out, but it seems like it identified itself to us in the beginning before sending us to the past. It appears like it wants something from Solomon.... to fully corrupt him maybe? And it's using MC as leverage against him.
I suspect that all of the weird stuff that has been happening is tied to its meddling in some way, but to what end is unclear... Sending Levi and MC into TSL, tricking Asmo then trying to feed everyone to a spider, and, likely, whatever is going on with Beel. I can't tell if it's trying to push MC and the brother's closer together, or just making vaguely comical attempts at homicide by fictional characters, spider, and Gluttony incarnate.
The situation with Adam does give us a hint into its nature. It appears to be some kind of dark, trickster being that gives a person what they desire, but never the way they intended. A walking monkey's paw, if you will. Solomon says that Nightbringer made him what he is today, so perhaps he worked under it or is simply under the influence of one its "deals." Their relationship is adversarial, though. When they're speaking, they talk about the two supernatural sides, Angel and Demon, and Nightbringer seems to want to force Solomon to make a choice between them. Lose his humanity, maybe?
I'm not quite willing to say that Nightbringer is a demon just yet, at least not one of the ones we normally encounter. Something about it seems... older. More powerful than that. But we'll have to wait for more info.
My crackpot theory?
Solomon has made a deal with Nightbringer in order to go back in time and do... something. He's after something. Nightbringer agreed, but dragged MC along as collateral for Solomon to get it done within a certain amount of time or makes sure he honors his part of the bargin. Barbatos knows this, either because he is linked to in some way to Nightbringer or saw it happen in the doorway, and is disgusted by his actions but unable to speak about it due to the pact. Or, you know. That's our present Barbie also dragged along for the ride and he's pissed that he's been essentially hijacked and taken away from present Diavolo, but forbidden to speak about it.
773 notes · View notes
ghouljams · 5 months
Note
And of course, Witch does notice him. She probably kind of hates him at first for always disrupting her prayers with his languid, confident footsteps as he enters her house under the guise of asking for a very specific remedy. She hates the way her stomach twists every time she sees his rugged face. She hates the way her mind goes blank for a second when his soft, yet commanding voice echoes in her ears.
And she despises how she can’t help but silently gush at every single one of his gifts. How she always puts them in places she just knows she will always see them, and how comforting their sight is. How she feels her gaze soften even just a little bit when he breathes a sigh of relief as she bandages his wounds an massages his sore muscles. How her shoulders suddenly feel heavy with worry every time he tells her he is about to leave for another expedition, barely managing to steel her voice when she tells him to come back in one piece (after all, it’s always a nightmare to rummage through the heavy northern snow to find the ingredients needed to take care of big injuries). How she immediately goes to ask the Gods to watch over him, her hands clutching the necklace he once gifted her.
And, most of all, she loathes the way she loves him, her mind distracting her with many thoughts of him when she has to tend to her duties. She is down bad, and he is too. It’s only a matter of time before they both crumble in each other’s arms under the delectable tension these feelings weave in between them.
Just a little headcanon. Mii is inspired. We love characters who can fit in multiple AUs.
Mii do you wanna just take over for me because holy shit. I literally sat up and rolled my shoulders let's fucking go, I gotta write some fic, I'm inspired but I don't think I can match that because GOD. The mutual pining.
There are small things you do to prepare for men to come home. There are big things too, of course, you bind winds with your staff, you ask the gods for protection, you bless the wives with their husband's safe return. But the small things... You change out the furs you wear, return the silky pelts to their usual hanging place so you don't seem too fond of the man that gifted them. The same with your buckles, your brooches, your necklace. You twist a thin silver band around your finger, like a branch from a willow tree it always strikes you as too delicate to come from a viking. There's no filigree to it, not stones, no patterns, it's simple and well loved.
You do these small things because you loathe the man they represent. He's a distraction from your duties, he clouds your judgement, pulls the spirits from you. He watches you with such bare affection in his eyes that you wonder how it would be to be his wife. How it would feel to wake up every morning to those hands cradling you. Only to have him leave you, the same way he always does.
The gods whisper to you as you sit in front of their alter. Dissonant, clouded by the spirits that guard their realm. Chills wrack your body, your mind far away, drifting through the different planes searching for some new prophecy or vision that might keep your man somewhere closer. (They come to you in dreams, and tell you of new lands, new people, force you on to the elders and tell them to send out a party. You'll never be free of this awful wanting.)
The spirits pull your head back, arch your back painfully to look at the intruder in your temple. "You're always in such a rush to get back here," They tell him, voices overlapping, "is she really so special to you?"
"Of course," Price breathes, his shoulders heaving to compensate for his run to the temple from the shore. His feet carrying his heavy body to stand behind you, what are a few steps when you're at the end of them? He watches as you jerk forward and spit henbane seeds from your mouth, coughing and sucking in breaths to shake the trance. He crouches, his hands reaching for your shaking form. Völva don't live long if there's no one to care for them. It's the spirits, the elders say, no living creature can hold the dead without joining them a little each time.
Your fingers scrape the floor, nails digging into the wood and furs that surround the alter. Hands touch your back, familiar enough to make you shiver and tip your head to look at the man you always send so far away from you.
"Welcome back," He tells you, his voice so soft it feels like a blow. You look away from him, fix your eyes on the carved wood of Freyja's statue.
"I should be telling you that."
Price hums, his hands leave you. It's freezing without their warmth. You're frozen without his warmth, doomed to this until it takes you the way it takes every völva. Stuck, until Hel calls you home. You hate this man, you shouldn't love him the way you do. He shouldn't entertain your affections the way he does. He shouldn't encourage them.
"I brought you something." His furs rustle behind you as you collect yourself. You hear the leather cord of a pouch open and you sit up with a sigh. When he doesn't follow up or press anything into your hands you turn to ask him what he's brought. He presses a berry against your lips and like a fool you take it. It's a slightly bitter burst on your tongue, crushed gently by your teeth into something almost sweet. You eye the pouch in his hands, the bright red and orange berries inside. You feel yourself soften a little, smiling when you meet his affectionate stare.
"Rowan berries," You half ask, your voice feels lighter, gentler, "Thank you." It sticks like a knife in his chest. Something so simple makes you look at him like that, like coming home. Gods what he wouldn't do for you.
He's never seen you use any of his other gifts, doesn't even know if you've kept them. Price had thought something edible would go over well, easier to make sure you were satisfied with it. You reach for another berry out of the bag, the thin strip of silver around your finger glinting in the firelight. His ring. The first thing he'd gifted you, when he'd been overcome by the need to have any foothold in your life. You look up at him through your lashes, pop another red berry in your mouth with a questioning hum.
"Are you alright?" You ask, deft fingers reaching to inspect him, "You're not injured are you?" The concern in your voice might kill a weaker man, surely no one can hold up under your care. Not when you look at them like that.
"No," Price chokes out, gritting his teeth as your fingers brush his skin, "No injuries to report, we've got a healer now so-"
"You don't need me?" You smile when you say it, like a joke, but there's sorrow in your eyes. Price can't stop himself from cupping your face, your soft skin under his rough hand is intoxicating. It makes his heart clench painfully. Can't you see he's trying to ease your burden? Are you truly so wrapped up in völva that you've lost sight of any other value you might have?
"What would I do without you sweetheart?" He whispers. There's a pain in your eyes he can't name. It hurts to see you turn away from his hand. To see you smooth your hands over your dress as you stand, offer him your hand to help him up. You smile, some mask closing off your eyes from him.
"Well, we might as well go and greet the men," You pull on your duties like a well worn cloak, more völva than person when you pluck your staff from the ground, "do our jobs for the elders."
It's a reminder to both of you. The spirits aren't the only ones that keep their eyes on you. Price nods, and follows you out of the temple, pressing the pouch into your hands as he goes.
278 notes · View notes