Tumgik
#You've been Serpented
segretecose · 2 years
Text
thinking about bernard of clairvaux going on a tirade against all those freaky little sculptures in romanesque/gothic cloisters and churches saying they distract people from meditating on the law of god only for umberto eco to go "but he describes them so well [in apologia ad guillelmum] that we are led to suspect that he himself had looked at them more closely than he should have done" 900 years later
372 notes · View notes
murasaki-cha · 4 months
Text
“If this woman is to be my wife,” he said, swallowing hard, “you will not touch her again.”
Oh my, Reid you cannot be fr. Your honnor he's gonna be a wife simp isnt he?
15 notes · View notes
Text
I'm just reading a regular old reincarnation manga and it shattered my heart
So MC just fought a boss in self-defense, and as said boss is dying, they have a chat... They exchange names, and it's revealed the "God" that blessed the MC is somehow acquainted with the King of Serpents he just fought.
Before the MC can ask any more questions, he gets the loot pop-up. The boss is dead.
As he turns to leave he says thanks for the items, calling the boss by his real name for the first and last time. And we get a glimpse of his status. Besides the stat increases, he has also gained a new title.
Friend of the Serpent King
there's like a million things i want to say and i am going to put all of them into the tags
because i am EMOTIONAL
3 notes · View notes
cursedslaeyer · 1 year
Text
Hope arc drop.
0 notes
lina-lovebug · 2 months
Text
I'd Fight The Devil
Tumblr media
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Background: (Y/N) Morningstar with her partner, Alastor, has decided to put some of the Overlords in their place.
Warning: Alastor being Alastor, mentions of pregnancy but no one's pregnant, and Alastor might have a breeding kink
_ _ _
"(Y/N)! What a surpri-!"
"I believe that's Princess (Y/N) Morningstar, Heir to the throne of Hell, and Duchess of Chaos - to you," Alastor loved doing this. He adored how (Y/N) had decided to start using her true power, and to bring respect back to her name.
The family name, to be exact.
Valentino chuckled nervously as (Y/N) scoped out the place, her horns ever presenting and tail flicking with annoyance.
"What a pleasure to be hosting you, Princess. What would be the reason for this visit?" Valentino asked, offering her a drink.
"I'm fine, thank you," She dismissed it, already smelling the poison inside the cocktail.
"I'm here to discuss Angel Dust, and your contract with him."
"If he's too much trouble for the hotel, I'll happily-"
"You're the one causing the trouble," Alastor cut him off.
Valentino sputtered, "me?!"
"You can feign innocence all you wish, Val, but I've heard that you've called my sister a bimbo, along with many other colorful names," (Y/N) slowly stood up, leaning over his desk as the lights started to go out - one by one.
"Charlie is nice. She's always been the kinder of us Morningstars, but apparently this makes you think that you can go and soil our name. My father could have strung every sinner on a hook for eternity, torturing you all second by second as your screams sung into our great halls," no one had been unfortunate enough to see the form of (Y/N) Morningstar, and Val was one of them.
Her height expanded to nine feet tall, her pretty black nails forming into claws and her eyes ablaze with scarlet serpent pupils.
And wings - oh great black wings that could make even Adam rethink his attack.
When he was still alive, of course.
"And you sully his gift by mocking us."
"Look, Vox did it first! Okay?! He said you'd never-!" Val tripped on a tentacle that came from her beloved Alastor, who dropped a TV by his feet.
But not just any TV.
"Oh God," Val gasped, "Vox. . .?"
"I took care of him earlier," Alastor grinned, still reminiscent on his screams.
"I couldn't have my dear (Y/N) sully her hands with his filth. But whatever the Princess wants, she gets."
Oh to see her come into her power was as chilling as death itself.
"You're so romantic, Alastor," (Y/N) smiled.
That's when Valentino spotted it. On the left hand of (Y/N) Morningstar was a ruby wedding ring, the band pure gold.
Alastor finally did it.
He climbed up the latter, but not through power.
Well yes, through power, but he certified that it would always be his.
By marrying Lucifers daughter.
"We're matching, isn't it adorable?" Alastor showed off his own wedding band, ruby's encrusted inside of it.
"Now, where were we?" She grinned, and as an engagement gift, the screams of Vox and Valentino were broadcasted throughout all of Hell.
And they say chivalry is dead.
_ ☆ _
"They're fucking crazy."
"They're made for each other."
On that, Angel Dust and Husker could agree.
The lovely couple had become the center of Hells attention after their engagement was announced, and even though Alastor thought it would be hilarious for Lucifer to find out through the papers, she told him first.
And he cried.
"Oh my baby is all grown up!" Lucifer sobbed loudly, clinging onto her legs, "look at you! You-you used to be this small!" Lucifer grabbed a duck, "and you were so tiny and so cute!"
"Am I invited?" Lucifer squeaked, staring up into her eyes.
"Yes, dad," She smiled, bringing him up to his feet, "but we want to wait a bit before we plan anything."
"You know she used to bite my finger?!" Lucifer grabbed the baby pictures of little (Y/N), "look at how small she was! Oh, and this one is my favorite!"
Alastor truly didn't mind how touchy Lucifer had become with him, but thankfully, Lucifer also knew when to stop.
"Wait, is that why you're getting married?! Did you impregnate my daughter?!" Lucifer gasped, shoving his hand on her stomach.
"Dad! Dad, no! I'm not pregnant!" She quickly cleared up.
"Unfortunately," Alastor muttered to himself. Oh to see her belly swell with his children - his own spawn, it made his cock twitch at the thought.
He was fond of children but his own? Oh he'd spoil his little prince or princess with all the blood sacrifices the world had to offer.
"Yeah but you know what marriage entails, kiddo!" He pointed at them both with finger guns, "first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby-oh my GOD I'll be a grandpa!"
He started crying again.
She sighed, "at least we know our hypothetical child will be taken care of."
Alastor nodded, "I could not have picked a better father-in-law."
At this point, Lucifer was ugly crying.
Alastor looked at his beloved with a soft gaze as she tried calming her father down. To be honest, Alastor never thought he would ever find solace in Hell. He anticipated every day being a fight for his life, always looking over his shoulder and always striving for more power. And as cheesy as it sounded, he saw (Y/N) as his shining light. She brought out his sad heart, and for the first time in his life, he wished his mother was with him.
To see just what a wonderful woman he managed to catch.
2K notes · View notes
thexsilentxwordsmith · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: Being the leader of your platoon and fucking you at the same time isn't something Simon wants paraded around, for both of your benefit as trouble could come from such a relationship. But keeping it a secret has become a problem as you've been out on a mission for a couple months with no physical contact to be had. The moment you return Simon has to have you...even though you are both filthy as fuck.
Authors Note: Nothing can stop me from getting at this man... Nothing.
Word Count: 5 k
Warnings:
Tumblr media
Adjusting himself lower in his seat to get more comfortable, Simon spread his legs a little wider while stretching one out straight to hide and accommodate the growing bulge between his legs. The stiflingly humid air of the cabin inside the aircraft was not helping his predicament. Hungry eyes surveyed his team inside the plane one by one, moving from face to familiar face until he landed on the one he had been secretly looking for: yours. 
On the opposite side, towards the cockpit of the aircraft was where you sat as that starving wolf caught you in his sights. The cool and collected Lieutenant shifted again restlessly as his gaze lingered on your face with only one thing going through his mind, the same thing that had been there the entire fucking duration of this mission. Lucky for him that his mask afforded him the luxury of keeping his eyes covered in shadow so that he could watch you without looking too suspicious to those around.
Your lips upturned into a smile as you chatted with the private to your left, passing the time until you all returned to base and Simon could not help but feel a twinge of jealousy. It should be him that you were sitting next to, close enough that he could reach a sneaky hand across his lap to squeeze onto your thigh or lean in and whisper all the filthy things he wanted to do with you the second you both got the chance, but secrecy was the name of the game so that wasn’t an option.
Still, it wasn’t as if he was complaining about getting to look at you from afar. As he watched you go about business as usual, his mouth began to salivate as his amber eyes followed the curve of those full, plump lips through their movements as you spoke, that gnawing hunger growing stronger by the second as he wondered how fucking good they would taste against his own once he got them again. So lost in his own thoughts, daydreaming scenarios of how it would happen he became oblivious to the world around him.
Suddenly that cold awareness that he was being watched brought him back into the interior of the plane and as he refocused his eyes he was met with yours staring straight back at him. Taking your bottom lip into your mouth you bit it coyly before shooting him a smirk sly enough to match a foxes, causing the Lieutenant's pulse to quicken in his veins. Turning his head as he cleared his throat, he tried to focus on something else, but his heartbeat continued to pound heavy in his chest.
Were you thinking the same things? Were you burning for him just as much as he was burning for you?
It’d been a hot fucking minute since he had felt your touch and the ache in his cock was beginning to keep him at a constant level of agitation that left him with a short fucking fuse his team was beginning to notice. Sure his hand was fine, it did the trick in a pinch, but to really sate the serpent he needed your moist, tight cunt to bury himself in and the agony of having to wait to have you all to himself had been on his mind even more lately.
Ten weeks, ten goddamn weeks that he could look, but not touch; fantasize, but not indulge, crave, but never sait and fuck was it damn near impossible now to dismiss those visions of you breathless and naked, whimpering under him in his bed that ran rampant through his mind. Focusing on the task at hand was top priority of course, but Simon was a master at multitasking  and being in such close proximity to all that temptation while trying to remain professional and hide away the fact that you two were involved had caused his mind to constantly wander back to you.  
Who gave you the goddamn right to be such a delicious distraction? 
It had taken a herculean effort on his part to divert his gaze and steady his mind and though he had a modicum of success up until today, he found that he could not maintain that calm any longer. The mission had been lucrative and through the haze of adrenaline, something inside Simon had awoken in a fury so severe that enough was enough; he had to have you as soon as physically possible no matter what.
There was no more time.  
ETA ten minutes till return to base the update hit his headset and Simon took a deep breath; the agonizing torture was almost over and the gears began to turn on just how he would get you alone because waiting a minute more than necessary was no longer an option. Careful not to draw attention, he adjusted the crotch of his pants with his hand; good thing his uniform was on the baggy side or else he would definitely be giving a fucking show right about now. 
The second the craft landed everyone was itching to get out of that stifling atmosphere and make their way outside where they could catch a breeze. As the back of the plane lowered, people were already scrambling out and into the evening sun. One by one Simon watched as his squad deployed from the craft until only a few stragglers remained, one of which was the exact person he needed. 
“Specialist Y/L/N,” he called out to you as he made his approach, trying to meter his gruff tone so that he would not sound too excited while there were others still present.
“Sir?” you returned in proper fashion as you turned to face him, heart skipping a beat. 
So close, so fucking close. Just a little more and he’d have you again. “Need to have a word with ya, in private,” he stated plainly.
You gave him one short nod. “Of course, sir,” you said, giving the private you were speaking with the go ahead to leave you two alone and off they went with the last of your team to leave you both in seclusion completely unaware of what was really going on.  
…as if they couldn’t see how the Lieutenant’s gaze always seemed to linger a bit too long on you or how whenever you two were near there was a noticeable tension in the air.
Simon clocked the area, watching as the last of the privates and other personnel moved on further into the base and as soon as he was sure you two were alone, he closed the respectful distance between your bodies as his hand clasped on the buckle of your uniform to pull you in close.
“It’s been a long fuckin’ while, sweetheart,” he said, that gruff tone dripping with need.
You stared back up at him, the heat perking in your cheeks as your heartbeat thudded in your ears. “Too long,” you agreed.
“Gettin’ harder and harder to contain myself when I’ve gone that long without ya,” his fingers slid around just over the inner edge of your waistband causing tiny pinpricks of cold sweat to tingle along the back of your neck. “All ‘a this just out of my fuckin’ reach; too many eyes watchin’ us constantly that I can’t even touch ya without some bastard catchin’ us. It’s been hell.”
“I’ve been squeezing my thighs together all flight, but…” you admitted before you turned your head to the right and then the left before coming back to his face, “...seems we’re alone now.” Your breath hitched in your chest as you waited for what he was gonna do next. 
The day was warm, but as you both stood there with weeks worth of pent up sexual tension the air seemed to thicken until it was too hard to breathe. Simon paused as if weighing out something in his mind, his eyes drifting down your face slowly along four distinct points to stop and focus on your mouth before coming back up and meeting your gaze.
Without warning that 6’4” wall of muscle was on your body and shoving you by the hips until your back hit against the interior wall of the plane. Lightning fast, Simon wrenched the bottom of his mask up just over his nose, catching your chin in his grasp as he jerked it up and met your lips with a fiery intensity that instantly made your knees buckle and your mind short circuit. Sloppy embraces of his mouth against yours aggressively stole kiss after burning kiss while a thick layer of light brown stubble that covered his cheeks and along his jawline, a product of weeks without a razor at hand, pricked against your face as he pressed his firmly against your own. 
All you could taste was the sharp bite of tobacco as his thick tongue thrust past your lips and into the interior of that warm, wet cavern where it slithered over your tongue and towards your throat. Mouth open, eyes closed, he completely filled you full until you nearly choked on that determined bit of muscle, a kiss that was all encompassing and rough. His cracked lips ground over the surface of yours until they were raw and bruised to match.
With his body pressed into the curves of your own, you repositioned your right leg so that your thigh nestled up into the crotch of his pants. God he was hard, throbbing and straining into the meat of your thigh. He grunted heavy into your mouth as his grip tightened on your jaw, tilting his hips inward so that he could ground his bulge against your leg, his cock so stiff he was about to rip a hole straight through the fabric. 
“Can’t wait, need ya right fuckin’ now,” he panted desperately through the breaks in your mouth’s connection, drunk on your taste. The hand that was free slithered around the small of your back and up under your uniform jacket through the perspiration coating your skin to find its way inside your pants.   
“We’ve been baking for a couple days now, wouldn’t you rather I had a shower first?” you questioned and punctuated it with a moan as his palm found purchase on the curve of your ass and gave it a hard squeeze with as much as he could grab.
There was no hesitation, not a single fucking second passed where he even had to think about it. “Fuck gettin’ clean; no need for what I plan on doin’ to ya.”  
Christ he was filthy; honestly you both were. Not much showering out in the field this time around and it had been a good few days of sweating on the tail end that culminated in a distinct scent that radiated off his skin, mixing with the pungent aroma of gunpowder and the spicy sting of cigarettes on his breath; it was an olfactory experience that should have made your skin crawl, but you found the opposite.
You were just as needy for him even if he was absolutely disgusting. Maybe even more so.
“Where?” you groaned, needing him to make up his mind quickly. 
Ripping his mouth away from yours, he watched a string of spittle glisten as it was pulled from your lips before concealing his face again so that you could move. No words needed as he took your hand and led you out into the evening sun, his booted steps fast and heavy. The munitions depot was barely a two minute walk from where you were now and that was about all the waiting could tolerate. 
It was a goddamn miracle that the place was empty for the moment and quickly he used his clearance to enter, the sound of the door thudding open as he flung it while pulling you inside rang through the quiet space. The latch had barely clicked before he was picking you up and setting you on the nearest table, swiping away anything on the surface that would get in his way. You matched his speed as your hands were on the cloth of his mask to pull the damned thing off so you could finally see him properly for the first time in months. 
You tossed the damp facial covering to the ground and stared back into that face you’d missed all this time. Soggy dirty blonde locks clung to his head, plastered down from a combination of his mask and the sweat glistening over his face. The black rimming his eyes shimmered wet-like as it collected moisture from his forehead. Even in this state he was a goddamn gorgeous specimen. It could very well have just been you, but shit did he make filthy look good. 
“What are you waiting for?” you questioned back with a cocky raise of your eyebrow.
 
Simon smirked and dove right back in; he didn’t need to be told at all, let alone twice to get his fill. Heated kisses burned your raw mouth as he pressed your lips together hard so that your nose was buried in his face. As your lips danced, those large hands pawed harshly at your body to go up and under your uniform, ripping through the buttons to reach the t-shirt underneath, parting through the fabric to search for any bare piece of skin that he could find. Gloves already off, the pads of his calloused fingertips drug across the smooth flesh of your stomach, abrading the skin as they moved up towards your chest, tugging your t-shirt to stretch it to its limits. His blunt nails nicked you a few times, making you hiss into his mouth as they left red, raised marks behind.
A little souvenir to take with you the next few days to remember him by. Good, you’d cherish them until they’d dissipate; it had been too long since you’d worn his signature.
Feeling around up under the fabric was nice, but these clothes had to go; your body had been hidden by them for far too long and he was tired of knowing exactly what lay under there but not being able to see it. He jerked off the outer layer of your uniform before tearing your shirt up and over your head. Free of the barrier he pushed you back down onto the tabletop, your legs wrapping around his hips as he gripped into yours to pull you flush against him so that you were being pierced by his cock through his clothes. 
One more quick rough kiss before his lips were trailing down the side of your neck and across your chest, stopping so that he could fill his mouth with as much of your tits as he could fit without suffocating. The sweat made your flesh salty to the taste and as he sucked hard on the fullness of your breasts, one after the other, it filled his mouth. 
That agile tongue of his flicked around each nipple, circling around the areolas until that pleasure center in your brain lit up and had your back arching to push your tits further onto his face. Simon snarled into your chest so that you could feel the sound vibrate through you as the feeling of being enveloped by all that supple, yielding flesh made him even more feral. Goddammit, the more he sucked in the more he wanted until the pressure made the roof of his mouth sting and yet he held out longer still just to be sure he had had enough.
No sense in rushing… 
Emerging from you gulping for air, eye black smudged across his eyes and nose, he did not stop as he continued down the line of your body with his exploring lips: down your chest and over your stomach to just below your belly button. “Ya feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he stuttered with a groan low and guttural. “So fuckin’ good.”
But it wasn’t anywhere near enough for him yet. With a grunt he wrestled the clothing off of his top half, thick chest and torso speckled with perspiration glistening through the hair covering him as he stared down over top of you, those strong hands making quick work of your belt until it hung loose from the loops. The scent of his heady musk intoxicated you now that it was no longer contained by his clothing, something in the zesty notes made your mouth water uncontrollably.
Flicking his eyes back up to your face he licked his lips before bending over your lower half. “I need more,” the primal growl made your body shiver as he took the bit of cloth around the button of your pants into his teeth and ripped at it until he had them undone.
Simon pulled them off and threw them down to the ground and out of his fucking way to then again bend over your torso, placing heated kisses to your hips as this time his mouth took hold of the waistband of your panties and keeping them secure in between his lips he lowered himself onto his knees, taking them with him until they were down around your ankles and he could slip them off. 
Immediately one of those large hands palmed your right thigh to bring it to his mouth as he leaned his face to it, teeth ready to gnaw at the tender, plump meat. Bites sunk in firmly, but not too hard and his unkempt stubble rubbed over the indentations as he went along until you felt like your skin was on fire.  
“Fuck,” you whimpered into the air as a rush of contradicting sensations flooded your body to overload your senses. Your hips writhed wildly the higher he went up that tender inner thigh until he stopped right at the top of your leg. You knew what was coming, knew what he was going to do, and though you may have been hesitant due to your lack of proper hygiene, if Lt. Simon Riley wanted something he was going to get it no matter what.
Your untamed bank beckoned him toward it, a tempting treat no matter what state it was in; once he had it locked in his sights there was no backing away. He was feral for it, starved for it, and with his hand on your thighs he held them apart in a firm grip as he moved in without hesitation. Simon was used to wearing things to cover his face and though there were certain things that he enjoyed more than others, wearing you would always be his favorite.
Once Simon got nestled against you, there wasn’t a goddamn thing that could pry him away. Hot, muggy moisture coated his face from between your thighs as he lapped and lapped at the silky inner walls of your pussy with a weighty tongue, starting with the tip and then using the pad to press firmly up against your clit so you’d buck over his face. With his hand, he pushed down on your pubic bone as he worked until he had you mewling like a kitten. 
“Mmm,” he pleasantly hummed against you, that circling tongue being coated in the sharp tang of your juices as it took its sweet time to draw you closer and closer to the edge like a man obsessed. When it came to making your squeal, there was nothing else on his mind except whatever he could do to make you come harder. 
Shifting below you, he knew what needed to be done about that. Your legs were on the move then as Simon situated his shoulders under your knees, staying locked to you as he sat up taller now that you were completely strapped to him to tilt your pelvis up. In this position, as his tongue focused solely on romancing your clit, his fingers could enter you and stroke that bundle of nerves inside as well. 
Fuck he wasn’t playing around with you this time. If a complete mess was what he wanted to make of you then this was the way to do it, overstimulating you to the point of insanity. Minutes passed without a single sign of him losing stamina or wanting to surface, so lost in the ecstasy of being encapsulated by your thighs pressing around his ears as you squirmed and jerked each time a new point of pleasure was plucked. There was no one here that knew your body better than him and each second that ticked away that warmth in your abdomen gathered.
Sticky and wet, breathless and vibrating with the euphoria of being overwhelmed with that hulking man, it wasn’t long after that you had finally made it to the ledge. Simon could feel it around his fingers, the walls of your cunt becoming engorged and contracting the longer he continued to stroke them deep inside you as your legs began to shake and hit his ears- exactly what he was looking for. It wouldn’t be long now and his face would be dripping with your cum. Steady was the name of his game from this point, making sure not to make a move out of place or rush to reach the finish line. Your body knew the way and with each flick of his tongue and stroke of his fingers it brought you to the precipice just as designed. 
And then you fell silent and he knew it was there. The warmth in your abdomen exploded and shot towards the top of your head as you fell back flush against the table with eyes shut tight and you cried out as your body wriggled and writhed over Simon’s face. Slipping his fingers out of you he gripped hard into your hips to hold you to his face as he sucked on your clit until you rode out the pleasure to its end.
Only then did he let you go.
Standing back up Simon wiped away the moist sign of your orgasm from around his mouth with the back of his hand, a proud gleam in his brown eyes. Screw anyone who said that man couldn’t eat; he could devour you for hours and never have enough. That would be revisited later when time was more available and he could have you relaxed in his bed to make you come multiple times without coming up fully for air. Now he desperately needed to be inside of you.
“Ya ready for me sweetheart?” he said as the sound of his belt buckle jingling hit your ears and you picked your head back up to look at him. 
“I need it Simon, please,” you pleaded through shaky breaths.
You watched with a hungry gaze as he pulled his pants down enough to hang loosely around his hips so that it would release that beast of a cock. A bit of precum sparkled from the tip and he used it to coat himself with a few strokes of his hand; too much and he might lose it. Then he pounced, moving back in between your legs and taking one to place on his shoulder as he aligned the head with your entrance. 
It poked near the sensitive hole as he slowly began to insert it. The tip slipped in with a groan from both of you; fucking hell he had missed how you were so tight. Even just that tiny bit pushed harshly at the walls of your core as it stretched you out to accommodate him. You’d missed how big he was and how full he’d make you soon enough. 
He took a breath to calm himself, too much sensation too quick. “Goddamn baby, forgot how fuckin’ amazin’ ya feel,” he sighed. “It’s been a minute, ya think ya can still take it all?” 
You nodded your head as you swallowed hard to prepare yourself to take him.
“Good girl, just breathe for me,” he grunted as he pulled your body down onto his cock all the way to the base. “That’s it, breathe. T-that’s… fuckin’ hell.” 
Your fingertips dug into the muscles along his back as you were filled to the brim, your walls struggling to accommodate such an impressive object after this extensive break. The sudden, overwhelming pressure even caused Simon to stagger where he stood.
“Goddammit, sweetheart, I fuckin’ missed this,” he groaned, head falling back a moment. “Why can’t I ever get enough of ya? Ya got me under your spell baby. Christ, I gotta to fuck ya raw.” 
Taking it easy and slow was not something Simon had in him anymore, not now that he had gotten that first feel of your cunt in all its warm, wet glory. He was consumed and wasted no time in beginning to thrust recklessly in and out, feverish and rough, and all you could do was hold onto his shoulders for support as you both devolved into dirty, stinking creatures seeking for that ultimate high. 
Goddamn the snap of his hips shoved that fat fucking cock so far into you that he bottomed out at the back of your cervix, making you whine pathetically the harder he pounded until you gagged with each rough thrust. You were so fucking full of him there was no way you weren’t going to feel those bruises tomorrow. Tears stung the rims of your eyes as they rolled back into your head, the discomfort slowly giving way to overwhelming euphoria. 
“Fuck, ya take me so well,” he praised.
Your tits bounced up and down with the force of his thrusts, the table beneath you squeaking as it shook in time with the rhythm and threatening to break the harder he pushed. Christ he had missed this: the fucking ecstasy of your tight cunt gripping onto his cock for dear life as he pounded hard and desperate into it, the way all thoughts outside of the pleasure of your body seemed to vanish into thin air, the build of that release he knew would satisfy him completely… Well, for the moment anyway.
It was heaven in a sinful package.
The longer he went the more his sanity waned until there was not a single thought left except for the animalistic need to rut into you until he came. You could see the change wash over his face and through his eyes, making you grip onto him tighter; you’d never get tired of making him lose himself like that. 
You were completely at his mercy, his hulking size overwhelming so that he could do with you as he pleased and he used that to his advantage. Fingers reached between your bodies to again stroke at your clit; he was getting close and he needed to get you there just as fast. Those digits hit the spot just right and through the pounding of his cock that warmth again found itself growing in your stomach. 
“Right there, right there,” you repeated as your hips joined in on the movement, rolling with his strokes and thrusts to enhance the stimulation as you panted open mouthed into his face. 
His grip on your leg tightened harder as his release drew even closer, his swollen balls ready to spill his seed with just a bit more friction. God, he could feel it, that tingling pressure jolting from zero to one hundred as the muscles in his stomach contracted; his legs were shaking just trying to keep it together until he could have you finish.
“Fuck,” you winced as your breath hitched in your chest. Just a little more…  
He pumped with everything in him and that was it; with a shudder your orgasm rocketed through you fiery hot, making your body writhe in his grasp as you fell back against the table. God, it wouldn’t stop, second after second it just kept coming with relentless intensity. Simon did not let up either and soon you were crying from the over-stimulation.
Successfully reaching his goal, it was now his turn to let go and get his; nothing would ever be easier. In and out, in and out, he thrust and thrust until finally he could feel that ledge creep up and with a deep breath in he released control. That was it.
At the last possible second he ripped his cock out of you and nestled it between your clenched thighs as he milked out all that warm cum along your stomach, coating you with all that pent up tension he had been holding on to the entire time you were away. His abdominal muscle contracted hard, heart pounding out of his chest, body writhing as a shiver ran up the length of his spin while he squirted out every last drop that he could give. 
The room reeked of sex and sweat and cum but fuck did neither of you care. You lay there on your back with his warm, pungent semen coating your stomach and dripping into your belly button, panting to catch your breath as he stood hunched over top of you, lightheaded. All he could do was breathe until feeling returned to his limbs and he could talk again.
“Christ you do look good like this luv,” he said with a smirk on his lips as his panting slowed. “Now that we’re back, ya better get used to bein’ on ya back covered in my cum cause I’ve only just started makin’ up for lost time.”
“Lucky for you that’s my favorite place to be,” you chuckled as he went off to find something to clean you up with.
Coming back holding a random piece of cloth, he wiped away his mess and you sat up to give him a thankful kiss. As he handed you back the pieces of your clothing so you could redress, you finally checked your watch and realized that you were in fact late for debrief… for the third time. “Think they’ll buy that we got held up just talking again?” you questioned as you slipped everything back on as best could.
“With how flushed your cheeks are luv, ya better fuckin’ take a minute to collect yourself,” he picked. 
You rolled your eyes. “And who was the one to put me in such a state?” you returned. “Proud of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Very,” he whispered as he stole one last kiss from you while pulling his pants back up and redoing them. As his lips parted he stayed in close a moment. 
“Though I wouldn’t worry too much about how ya look cause if someone gets a little too close they’re gonna fuckin’ smell me all over ya,” he whispered as he slipped the mask back over his face and you both made your way stealthily back outside. 
Well, guess nothing to fret over now.
1K notes · View notes
bratkook · 4 months
Text
deep six: dancing with death. (m) jjk
Tumblr media
part one. part two. v-day drabble
pairing. biker!jk x reader genre. smut, fluff warnings. infidelity (but its ok i promise), protected s*x, oral, jungkook is kinda whiny and that itself deserves a warning, they're just fluffy and mushy and love each other they just dont know it yet word count. 12.2k summary. you've always known to stay away from the tombstone patches, told they were the enemy, that you'd be betraying your club if you chose not to listen. but an unsuspected friendship makes you think that maybe not everyone was as bad as you were made to believe. author’s note. hihiiii, this is a prequel to the deep six series! aka how jungkook and oc start their friendship and have it blossom into what it becomes in part one of deep six. i truly love these two so much, something about their forbidden love and how jungkook is tough and dangerous but oh so sweet to her makes me fucking melt!!! ok hope u enjoy it bye ily muah
Tumblr media
The world is a constant blur, days merging, memories hazy and bleeding together in your mind. The only time you enjoy the blur is now, sitting on your bike as you flow through the streets. Exiting Cobra territory made you feel free, the streets widening up the further you got, allowing you to cruise without the fear of getting swiped by a careless driver. 
Your eyes fall shut briefly, taking a slow breath as you try to push the earlier feelings away. Minho was having a bad day, a deal he had hoped to make to start running ice falling through, the man in charge deciding to go with a neighboring club instead. It wasn’t your fault the man thought Minho was too hot headed and messy to not find a way to mess this deal up, wanting a club with more reach, more connections and reliability than the Cobras could offer. That didn’t stop Minho from treating you like it was your fault, doing what he did best before barking orders at you to go for a run, desperately needing alcohol to drown his emotions. 
The earlier fear still rattles you, leaves your fingers trembling slightly as they clutch the handles and accelerate. He couldn’t hurt you here, and that's all the comfort you need at the moment, finally pulling into the familiar parking lot of the bodega. There’s a few cars parked inside, a lone scooter tossed by the sidewalk, and a shiny black bike parked by the entrance. 
You eye it for a moment, always checking for visible tags that let you know if the bike belonged to a club that had the Cobra’s high on their hit list. It’d be easy to act dumb if it was, no identifying items on you, knowing better than to roam the streets without Minho with a serpent stamped on you. 
When you find nothing you decide it’s fine, knowing you were on a time crunch to get what he wanted. With another slow breath you step off your bike, already feeling your earlier nerves fade away as you enter your comfort space. It seems odd to consider it one, but something about the buzzing fluorescent lighting and peeling laminate made you feel like an individual. 
Music plays through a portable speaker by the cashier, the worker greeting you with a smile that you return before you turn down your favorite aisle. That’s when you spot him again. The Deep Six member in the same spot he was in the last time you saw him a few weeks ago. It had been a close encounter then, not realizing who he was with your boyfriend standing outside. But his arms are revealed to you now, markings on his skin making it clear what club he belonged to, leaving no room for confusion. If that somehow wasn’t enough the giant patches on his vest and the glimmering rings on his fingers spell it out, literally. 
You approach him slowly, not sure if you trust him but not fully on edge like you were before, knowing Minho’s watchful eyes weren’t observing your every move. Without the ticking bomb a few feet away you allow yourself to slightly relax in the presence of him, assuming he had no idea who you were, clearly too focused on his candy selection. 
Sure you were on a run for Minho but you always pick something up for yourself. A small smile is already on your lips as your eyes land on the sour straws, ready to pick your flavor of choice, only to find it completely empty. Instantly you know the culprit is the man next to you, remembering the way you had reached for the same candy last time you saw him here by chance, and as you turn to stare at him you see his palms cradling four packets of the sour straws, a teasing smile on his face as he meets your eyes. Greedy. 
“Sorry,” he breathes out, sounding anything but, trying desperately not to laugh and failing as he makes his way to the front to pay. You don’t even respond to him, admitting defeat as you settle on the green apple flavored ones before you return to your earlier task, finding a case of Minho’s favorite beer and paying for it. 
The heat welcomes you once more outside, loading up the beer and candy into the saddlebags on the side of your bike, already forgetting about the candy thief from inside. 
“Hey, Snake!” A voice cuts through the air, making you freeze as you search for it, finding the Six standing by the shiny black bike you had spotted earlier. He reaches into his pocket, still smiling as he pulls out the blue raspberry sour straw packet, tossing it your way with ease. 
You catch it with both palms, momentarily stunned at the small gesture and at the fact that he clearly knew you were associated with the Cobras. The rumble of his engine snaps you out of it, smiling slightly as you look up at him once more, a breathless thank you escaping your lips before he is smiling back and peeling out of the parking lot. 
When you live the life you do, constantly on edge with a paranoid boyfriend questioning everyone’s intentions, it's hard not to let his way of thinking affect your own. Even as you sit back at the clubhouse, holding onto that packet of candy, you can’t help but wonder if maybe the Six’s seemingly sweet gesture was a trap. Maybe he was testing to see how gullible you are, stupid enough to interact with him, to use you to send a message to the Cobras. It wouldn’t be the first time. Minho’s reign made you an easy target, knowing you had a lot of enemies that would love to make a lesson of you. 
It's been so long since anyone has shown you genuine kindness with no strings attached, and as you finally enjoy your treat, you can’t stop the warm feeling of hope in your chest that maybe not everyone was as bad as you were made to believe. 
Tumblr media
You don’t return to your comfort space again until two weeks later, on another run for the club. Minho seemed to think if he gave you pointless errands to run you’d be satisfied, content with the loveless relationship and mundane everyday life. It was his way of keeping you on a leash, making you follow orders and letting the lead slacken up, only tightening it back up to remind you he was all you had. But you’d take the small moments of peace wherever you could get them. 
The lot is empty today as you pull in, the only car belonging to the worker inside. The moment of solitude only lasts for a minute, a loud rumble cutting through the air as another bike pulls in beside you. You tense up immediately, whipping your head to assess the situation, spotting the familiar Six too lost in his thoughts to realize you were here. He furrows his brows as he takes off his helmet, adjusting the large rings on his fingers before he glances your way, jumping slightly when he notices it's you. 
You eye him curiously, hands coming up to the key in the ignition, ready to start it up and tail out of here if he made a move. Minho had made a claim of some other club trying to ambush a deal earlier today, an unlucky hangout being the only one hurt, but without an identifying patch it left him on edge more than normal. So far the Six didn’t make you feel like you had to be wary, but you couldn’t be so sure. 
He seems to sense it, his arms raising up in surrender as he stays on his bike. “It’s okay snake, I don’t bite.” He smiles at his own stupid remark, but it slowly falls off his face when he sees the stoic expression remains on yours. “Seriously though, I’m just here for some smokes and a treat. I can go somewhere else if it really makes you this uncomfortable though.”
“Why aren’t you somewhere else to begin with?” you bite back, still not trusting that he wasn’t trying to trap you. 
Jungkook just sighs, hand coming up to ruffle up his helmet hair. “It’s nice to get away sometimes. This is neutral grounds, you know as best as I do that anything club related done here is a death wish.” He lets you process his statement, seeing the way you continue to eye him, your gaze tracing along the patches he wears. The large tombstone taunts you, torn and a little rugged on the edges, showing just how long he’s been wearing it. “Why aren’t you somewhere on your side of town?”
You purse your lips, looking away from him as you pull your hand away from your key, getting off your bike, deciding this conversation was better to have inside your little safe space. “Like you said, it’s nice to get away sometimes.” You hook your helmet over your handle, reaching the bodega’s door and holding it open as you look back at him. “You coming?”
He seems to snap out of it, quickly hopping off his bike and jogging your way, saying a quick greeting to the worker before going down the familiar aisle. He smiles when he sees you next to those damn sour straws. 
“Those must be your favorite huh?”
You give him a quick glance, seeing the smile on his lips before you turn back and grab a packet of the candy. “They are, so try not to take all of them at once again.”
He lets out a soft laugh, reaching forward and grabbing a couple of the same. “I gave you one last time, which says a lot because I don’t really like sharing.”
“A Six that doesn’t like sharing? That’s not surprising.” Your words are light, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you turn around and continue roaming the aisle. 
“Not as surprising as a Snake trying to tell me what to do.” The crinkling of plastic fills the store as he rips open his packet, taking a bite of a sour straw as he tries to hide his own smile when you give him an eye roll. 
“I’m not technically a Snake,” you mutter out, finger tracing along the chocolate bar you were contemplating grabbing. It wasn’t a lie, you didn’t wear the patch, you weren’t granted the perks of being a part of the club, nothing you said held any weight on the decisions they made. You weren’t a Cobra, you just belonged to one of them. Though that didn’t seem like the wisest thing to tell him, you knew the history between Deep Six and the Cobras, and telling him you belonged to Minho of all people would put you high up on his list of people to hurt if he had bad intentions to begin with. 
“Oh? You just like to hang on to the back of one then?”
“Something like that,” you sigh, deciding not to grab the extra treat, turning to look at him fully once more. “Are you gonna keep calling me a snake?”
His tongue prods along his cheek as he looks down at you, eyebrow slowly cocking up. “What would you rather I call you?”
“Y/N.”
He nods slowly, letting your name settle into his mind before he was reaching his hand out, the golden glimmering rings spelling out SIX shining in the light. You eye his hand for a minute before grabbing it in a gentle handshake, seeing the way he smiles before saying his own name. 
“Jungkook.”
Tumblr media
Jungkook was proud of his club, wore his patch with pride, did everything he could to show his loyalty. So why was he starting to tell white lies to his brothers, making up excuses to justify why he was going to the bodega on neutral grounds directly after finishing a job. He knew what would happen if they knew who he was talking to, slowly befriending. His only rational excuse was the fact that you had said you weren’t technically a Cobra, and although he’s not sure how well that would hold up to the rest of his members, it was the only excuse that helped ease his guilt. 
He was currently sat on the small sidewalk outside of the bodega, elbows leaning on his knees as he glanced around the empty lot. You had been meeting here once every week or so. He had started to take note of the typical times you’d be sent on runs of your own, choosing to coincidentally run into you at the same time. You had yet to arrive today though, leaving him waiting for fifteen minutes, wondering if maybe you wouldn’t be showing up today. 
Just before he decides to head out, you pull into the lot on your Dyna, a smile on your face when you spot him sitting on the sidewalk like a child. 
“You’re late,” he calls out, grabbing a packet of candy and tossing it your way when you get off your bike and head towards him. 
“Sorry, I wasn’t aware we had a time set for our little play dates.” You open up the candy, taking a bite and shutting your eyes at the sour taste. Jungkook laughs at your expression, patting the sidewalk beside him for you to settle into. 
“I can’t be left unsupervised, you should know this by now.”
You laugh now, taking a look at the bodega and the surrounding area. “Nothing seems to be destroyed, I think you do just fine unsupervised.”
He leans back on his palm, raking back his dark hair as he stares into the sky in thought. “I tend to cause psychological damage, not too big on destroying property.”
“Got it. So you torture people?”
Jungkook chuckles, turning to look at you slightly, a small twinkle of mischief flashing in his eyes as he smiles. “Exactly.”
You can only laugh, not exactly sure how truthful he was being with his little joke. The both of you made an effort to not discuss the intricacies of your clubs, not entirely sure what it was that you both did for them, knowing things would get too messy and tangled up if you did. Instead you talk about yourselves, knowing small anecdotes of each other’s childhoods, recounting stories of when he took a few tumbles on his bike when he was just starting to learn to ride, ones of you before the life of the Cobras was all you knew. 
It was a brief moment of normalcy, being able to talk to someone else, laughing over dumb jokes while sharing candy. It made you forget how twisted all of it was until you returned back home. 
Jungkook just appreciated having a new friend, someone to talk to about things that didn’t have to do with his club. He just wished he could talk to you in moments that lasted longer than the brief bodega hang outs. So as you both finish up, loading up your bike with the items you were told to come pick up, he takes a leap of faith. 
“Hey, can I—uh. Can I have your number?” He looks uncharacteristically shy as he asks this, one hand rubbing along the back of his neck. “To arrange our play dates,” he adds jokingly, a small smile on his lips in hopes of softening the blow of potential rejection as he reaches for his phone and hands it over. 
You freeze instantly, staring at his device as the voice in your head tells you not to, screams that this would get you in trouble. But the hopeful look on his face is enough to shut it up, grabbing his phone with a nod. “Sure, but uhm, I can’t text often.”
His brows furrow slightly at the tone you use, watching the way you type in your number and text yourself. Something about it made it seem like you were nervous, and the only thing he can assume is that the people you were around would grow curious over who you were texting. 
“Why? Scared your Snake friends would be pissed that a Six is texting you?” His tone is playful, but as you hand him his phone back, the look on your face makes his smile slowly fade away. 
“My boyfriend, specifically.”
Jungkook feels his heart drop at the revelation. He knew you were most likely involved with a Cobra, having seen you the first time you met on the back of one’s bike—more specifically, Minho’s bike. He had just assumed you were Minho’s chosen girl for the day, but if you were mentioning a boyfriend now, Jungkook could easily piece together who exactly that is. 
The third cardinal rule of his club replays in the back of his mind, “Never get involved with a Cobra”. It makes his head hurt, desperately trying to find a deeper excuse, a loophole to allow this to continue. It shouldn’t mean anything, you two were just friendly, barely even toeing that line as it was. But just knowing you were spoken for, by the leader of the Cobras especially, made the guilt he already felt for speaking to you get worse. 
But he does his best to shake it off, drowning out his thoughts as he takes his phone back and shrugs. 
“We’re just two people who share a love for sour straws, but if it makes you feel better you text me whenever you want.”
Tumblr media
You don’t text him for a while, the fear of your tiny little secret being exposed keeps you from responding to the text you had sent yourself from his phone. There was also the small feeling of guilt festering in your stomach, feeling like you had lied to him by keeping your relationship a secret. All he had assumed from the get go was that you liked to hang around Cobras, but you noticed the way his face had changed when you mentioned a boyfriend, and you can only imagine how he’d react if you told him your boyfriend was the leader of the Cobras. 
You find yourself staring at your device any chance you get, hidden in the bathroom of your place, lounging on the couch in the clubhouse, until you finally get the courage to send the first text. It makes your heart race, saving his number under your best friend's name, changing the emoji at the end so you know the difference, going as far as putting his messages on do not disturb. Clearly hiding, keeping him a secret. 
Jungkook knows it's wrong, because he’s keeping it a secret too. But once that first text was sent, they never stopped. He responds when he has time in between club duties, knowing you’ll reply when you get a moment alone. Your messages are short, random conversations that never crossed any lines, but he meant what he said, taking full advantage of having your number to coordinate your play dates. 
The guilt you feel slowly fades away with each passing day, becoming comfortable in your ways as you let him know what days you’ll be on that side of town, and before you know it, your hang outs become your favorite thing. You slowly start to consider Jungkook your friend, another rare slice of peace in your messy life. It makes you feel like your younger self, excited to speak to a cute boy and laugh until your cheeks hurt. 
And it should make you feel icky to have these thoughts about someone who wasn’t your boyfriend, but your relationship with Minho had been romantically dead for years now, not able to remember the last time he did something for you that didn’t solely benefit him. So you choose to enjoy the small flutters in your stomach that occur around Jungkook, allowing yourself to sit closer to him each time, friendly touches beginning to get more courageous while still toeing the line. 
Jungkook doesn’t mind it, he thought you were pretty and would let you trace the patches on his jacket or analyze his tattoos up close if that's what you wanted. You were the one with a boyfriend, who was he to tell you what was right or wrong for you to do, he wasn’t one to judge or pull a morality card on you considering the things he does in his club. It was all mostly innocent anyways, even now as you stand a good few feet away from each other, respective candy in each other's hands, attempting to toss them into your mouths. 
It was innocent. 
“God, your aim is horrible!” you laugh out, feeling the candy hit your forehead and bounce right off. 
“What are you talking about? That was a clear headshot.” He has that charming smirk on his face as he says it, tongue flicking against his lip ring while he laughs too. 
“You’re not trying to kill me Jungkook, we’re trying to see who wins first.” You swat the remnants of sugar off your face as you reach into your own bag for a piece of candy, motioning for him to be ready. He gets into position, slightly bending his knees and angling his head back with his mouth open, ready to catch whatever you throw. With a small snicker you grab four small pieces of candy, aiming right for his face with one eye shut and sending them flying. Jungkook is totally unsuspecting until suddenly, he’s being pelted all over his face, his eyes squeezing shut at the shock. 
“Dude,” he laughs, eyes finally opening up to spot you cackling away, perfectly content at your little stunt. 
“Okay, okay sorry. For real this time. I got it, I can feel it in my bones.” Jungkook should tell you no, say you wasted your turn and deliver payback, but you look too happy right now for him to do anything but smile and nod as he gets back into position once more. He sees the way you bring your hand close to your face, shutting one eye to try to aim, tongue slightly poking out in concentration before you toss the candy across a few feet of distance. 
Jungkook doesn’t even register that the candy successfully landed in his mouth until you’re gasping in shock. That’s when his eyes widen, his mouth shutting as he begins to chew, standing up straight and feeling his heart start to warm at how proud you look at having beat him. He closes the distance between you, extending a hand out for a high five that you gladly give him. 
Now that you’re closer, you see all the sprinkles of sugar on his face. It dusts along his cheekbones and the top of his nose, looking like small freckles on his skin. You give him an endearing smile as you cup his face and swipe it away from his skin. You do it without thinking really, tips of your fingers gently flicking away the evidence of your tiny prank. 
Jungkook’s chest tightens at the soft gesture, eyes wide as he watches you, too scared to move, almost like it would startle you or make you come to your senses and remember he was a Six. He chooses to just focus on how soft your hand feels against his cheek, how sweet you sound when you say he looks like a mess, your eyes filled with what he hopes is the same adoration he has as you look up at him, a lot closer than you need to be.
Jungkook knows all the sugar is gone now but you’re still there, thumb rubbing along his cheek, tracing the scar under his eye while your gaze lands on the piercing on his lip. He holds his breath when you look up at him once more, and maybe it's his wishful thinking but he swears the way you look at him tells him to make a move, so he does. Slowly at first, wanting to give you a chance to deny his advances, but you meet his lips before he can close the distance himself.
The innocence is gone now. Jungkook had felt something brewing with each of your interactions, chalking it off to pure friendliness, but he knows a small spark had been lit the second you started speaking to each other. 
The kiss burns, the guilt and betrayal to his club clawing at his mind but he doesn't care, welcoming it as he deepens it, sliding his hand into your hair and focusing on the way you let out a soft breath as he does so. It makes your mind spin, your hands gently looping around his neck to bring him closer. You don’t have time to think, too enveloped in the way his piercing feels against your lips, how his fingers softly rake through your hair, how he takes a deep breath when you kiss him back harder. 
It's brief, a small moment of weakness led by temptation, but you can’t deny how you both feel exhilarated, wide eyes and smiles on your faces when you pull back. "You taste like candy," you giggle.
“Your favorite,” he mumbles, still close enough to nudge the tip of his nose along yours. His voice is low as he lets reality settle, slowly inching back, his eyes meeting yours and seeing the small clouds of panic start to form around you. Reality seems to be hitting you too, fear of what would happen to him if Minho ever found out, or what would happen to you if he even had an inkling. A small harmless crush had just passed over into dangerous territory. 
“Hey,” Jungkook starts softly, hand gently coming to rest on your shoulder to bring you back to the present. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“No, but it does,” you groan. It did mean something, it didn’t matter how small it seemed, but you know the kiss meant something. Your small panic had nothing to do with being unfaithful, you knew Minho cheated on you with any girls who were willing to show their loyalty to the club, and if it kept him off of you then you didn’t mind it. You were scared to put Jungkook in danger. “It means something and my boyfriend’s crazy, he’ll kill both of us if he finds out.”
“I know he is.” He shrugs, looking directly at you, seeing the shocked look on your face at his admission. 
“You know what?” you whisper. 
“I know he’s a psycho. I kind of put two and two together when you mentioned a boyfriend. It is Minho right?” When you nod slowly, still unsure how to respond he just continues speaking. “But look, I know. All of it. I know I’m not supposed to be speaking to you, let alone kissing you and enjoying it, but it happened. I know it’s wrong, that I should feel bad and I don’t, but I also know where my loyalties lie within the club and what rules I’m willing to bend. If you’re saying it means something, then it does.”
You can only stare at him, feeling the clouds of panic start to fade. “But I'm telling you, I know what's at risk and I won’t be using it to harm you.”
“I mean…it is both our asses on the line,” you mumble out, still feeling his hand on your shoulder. He smiles at your words now, making you slowly smile back. 
“So, we’re taking it to our graves?” His voice is light again, the playful tone you were used to back. When you nod he smiles wider. “Cool, should we kiss on it?”
Jungkook laughs when you shove his shoulder with a cackle, rolling your eyes as you step back, walking back into the bodega to get what you came for. “You’re so unserious. Get away from me.”
Tumblr media
The issue with this imaginary line being crossed is that it leaves you thinking “what’s next”, constantly wondering just what else you could get away with. One kiss shared turns into two which turns into five, given so casually it feels like second nature. It seems like both of your guards have dropped now, more at ease with each other, touches getting as bold as they could in public. 
“Are you sure my skin isn’t gonna burn off?” you joke, laughing when Jungkook gives you an eye roll. His jacket is in his hands, shaking it off before he’s swinging it around your frame, helping you slide your arms into it. He had jokingly said it would swallow you whole, and you honestly just wanted an excuse to be closer to him so when he suggested you try it on you couldn’t deny him. 
“You might burst into flames, so just drop and roll baby.” He snickers when you playfully glare at him. Jungkook looks down at you with a smile, his hands smoothing the collar before he’s taking a step back to admire how the large leather jacket looked on you. The patches cover the arms and back, his first initial, last name and rank displayed over the left breast pocket, something your finger comes up to trace absentmindedly.  
“I don’t know, the jacket suits you. You sure you don’t wanna become a Six?”
“Very funny Jungkook. They’ll be putting a Cobra on my tombstone when I’m dead.” 
He waves you off, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. “Let me live in my fantasy world, yeah?”
“Your fantasy world involves me being a Six?” you giggle, looking up at him with a sly smile.
“Don’t kink shame me. Now smile for the picture,” he sings out, bending down as he extends his arm out, ready to take a selfie. You had yet to take photos of you both, too scared to be caught by Minho, but you allowed Jungkook to document your newly formed friendship as much as he wanted, knowing he had less to worry about when it came to snooping. 
Your arms wrap around him, the tombstone patch on display as you both smile widely for the picture. He looks at it with a cheeky grin, mumbling out how cute he thought it was before putting his phone away. 
“Do you need the usual for your run today?” he asks, knowing Minho always had you stocking up his alcohol. 
“Not today. I’m technically supposed to be locked inside our place. A few Cobra’s headed out of state this morning for a meeting.”
Jungkook hums, having briefly heard of an arms deal happening out of state, he just hadn’t been aware it was the Cobra’s doing. “Why didn’t you go with?”
“Too risky.” You lean back against the textured wall of the building, still cozy in his jacket. Minho loved to have you right by his side at all times, so if he said it was safer for you to stay here then you wouldn’t question him. “He has to make sure his prized possession stays safe.”
Jungkook laughs, slinging an arm around you and bringing you to his side obnoxiously. “Well you tell him I have that covered.”
“Jungkook, he’d cut your tongue out. Stop it!” you cackle. 
“I’d like to see him fucking try,” he grunts out, enjoying the way you playfully swat at him. He’d like to think he could have Minho’s head served on a silver platter if he ever got close enough to put his hands on him. 
“What about you? Any fun club plans after our playdate?”
Jungkook sighs, a smile still on his face. “Nope. I’m officially clocked out.” Your laugh is felt against his side, only making his smile widen. “I just have to stop by the clubhouse to grab something before heading home.”
“How far is the clubhouse from here?” You’re looking up at him with a twinkle in your eye, your smile still as sweet as can be, but he senses some undertone that he hopes he isn’t imagining. 
“Not far, about 20 minutes. Why? You want a tour?”
That was all he had to ask before you were following his bike down the busy streets on his side of town. His jacket is still on you, providing you with a small sense of security, knowing if anyone spotted you they’d assume you were with him. It leaves you at ease, entering the secure lot of his clubhouse, coming to a stop beside him and glancing around as you take off your helmet. 
It’s empty, a few cars parked around that looked like they were in need of repair, but no other bikes or lingering people. Jungkook steps off his bike, motioning for you to follow him, excited at showing you his favorite place. 
As you follow his lead you instantly see how different Deep Six’s clubhouse is compared to the Cobras. The space is taken care of, decorated thoughtfully, a space made for business as well as hanging out with their friends and families. Touches of the club are nestled around, a large Harley on display on a far wall, a frame showing the timeline and evolution of their patch tucked between other photos, and the most obvious and slightly obnoxious ode to the club comes in the gallery wall displaying all of their mugshots. Cute. 
“It’s nothing fancy,” he mumbles, spreading his arms out as he stands in the middle of the main room. A brown tufted leather couch is right behind him, a giant pool table behind it and a fully loaded bar to the right. 
“Compared to ours it sure is.” The Cobra’s clubhouse was made for business only, the meeting room was kept in pristine condition while the rest of it was only made to be nice enough to house drunken members and whatever hangouts were in the process of joining. 
“Really?” When you nod he just frowns, approaching you to grab your hand and pull you along, trying to show you more. “I’ll show you my space.”
“Your space?” you wonder, smiling when he squeezes your palm lightly, leading you down a hall to the right. A few doors line both walls, different ranks tacked on the middle of them, coming to a stop in front of one that says Road Captain. You had never really paid attention to his rank on his jacket, never really caring to read anyone’s rank in general, but seeing it displayed on this door let you know just how deep his involvement in his club was. 
“Only ranked members get private rooms.” He sounds almost bashful as he says this, grinning before opening up the door and switching on the light. A desk is on the right, paperwork neatly stacked in piles, a dresser is along the other wall with pictures tacked onto a cork board right above it. His bed is in the middle, sheets a dark gray and neatly made. It’s nestled between two windows on either side, letting in the slowly setting sunlight. 
You step into the room, walking to the dresser to look at the photos he has tacked up. He looks younger in some of these, hair messier and longer, no piercing or tattoos yet as he leans on his bike, another member attempting to put him in a headlock. They’re all club photos for the most part, the only one standing out is a photo of a teenage looking Jungkook holding up a diploma with what you can only assume is his parents beside him. 
“Cute,” you mumble out, smiling as you turn back to face him. It was odd to feel this calm around him, so used to the faint ticking heard in your head, reminding you that you were running on borrowed time, forced to interact in small bursts. With Minho completely occupied, the ticking disappears, allowing you to fully enjoy the moment for what it was. 
“I didn’t expect you to be sentimental like this,” you tease, smiling at the way his eyes narrow at you as he approaches, his tongue poking at his cheek as he fights a smile. 
“I’m full of surprises,” he murmurs, standing a foot away from you now, peering down at you with an aura of playfulness surrounding him. Your hands reach out to gently play with the material of his shirt, tugging him even closer. Jungkook could feel the tension, the same slowly growing tension that had been brewing with each day spent together. He can only watch as your hands slowly trail up his stomach, gliding up to gingerly rest against his chest. 
He wanted to kiss you, wanted to feel you gasp against his lips, but the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel like he had suggested showing you his clubhouse to be a total sleaze. Jungkook knew the line had grown blurry, kisses and touches shared with ease, but he wasn’t bold enough to assume you’d be okay with taking anything further. So when you decide to make the first move, leaning up to ghost your lips over his own, he can only hold his breath, eyes fluttering shut when you softly press them together. 
Your hands rest on his shoulders now, holding yourself steady as you kiss him, feeling the way his body melts into it. You pull away with a soft smack of your lips, inching back slightly. “What other surprises do you have?” 
Jungkook holds in a groan when you start to pepper kisses on the corner of his mouth, trailing them down his jaw, gently nipping the skin of his throat right below his ear. You giggle when he shudders, his hands gripping your waist, fingers tightening around you. 
“If you let me, I can show you.” His voice holds a tinge of unsureness, wanting for you to be okay with this without sounding pushy. But Jungkook had been thinking of this since your first kiss so he couldn’t help the desperate tone laced between each syllable. 
“Show me. Show me whatever you want,” you whisper, hand coming up to cup his cheek, looking up at him through your lashes. When his eyes meet yours he finally lets his resolve crack, attaching your lips once more in a heated kiss, finally feeling you gasp against him. 
Jungkook is a little ashamed to admit how easily this was affecting him, his heart already racing in his chest, stomach fluttering with each shared moan, bulge growing in his jeans when your hand slips into his hair and pulls. His hands slide down the material of his jacket you have on, pulling it off your body and tossing it aside without a care. He feels you smile against his lips at the action, clearly enjoying the way his hands roam along your body, desperate to touch you in ways he wasn’t able to before. 
It’s an eager dance to his bed, blindly stepping back as he guides you to it until your knees buckle against the mattress, giggling as you flop onto it. Your arm rests back to hold you steady, other hand gripping onto his shirt to yank him back over you, reattaching your lips in a heated kiss. 
Jungkook laughs into the kiss, his arm wrapping around you to haul you further up the bed properly, slowly pushing you back until you’re flat against the bed. His body settles over you, the cute visual of his hair framing his face is the first thing you see when your eyes flutter open as he pulls back. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, his hand coming up to gently cradle your jaw, thumb rubbing along your bottom lip as he smirks before dipping back down. 
He kisses the corner of your mouth, following the same trail you had left on him earlier, smiling against your skin when you shudder as he nips your neck. Slowly, his hands slide down your body, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt and tugging it up to reveal your stomach. 
“Can I take this off?” he mumbles, eyes peering up at you for confirmation. When you breathe out a yes, he slides it further up, helping you slip out of your shirt fully before you’re settling on your back again. A thin bralette covers your boobs, lacey cups revealing a glimmer on your nipples that has him tilting his head in curiosity. 
You catch what he’s looking at, smile spreading on your lips as you reach up to touch his jaw, finger gently tapping along the small mole he has below his lips. “I’m full of surprises too,” you mumble, smiling wider when he boldly cups your chest, thumb swiping at your pierced nipple through the lace. 
“I can see that,” he mumurs, voice low and raspy, making your stomach flip. He looks at you once more, brow cocking up in question as his fingers toy with the fabric. You nod your head, knowing what he wanted, allowing him to slip the straps off your shoulders before he’s sliding a palm under your back to properly unclasp your bra, giving himself the perfect view. 
Its hard to ignore the small burst of confidence that surges through you when he groans, eyes hooded while he leans down to pepper kisses down your chest. It had been such a long time since you’ve felt truly desired, since you’ve been kissed delicately, had hands touch your skin so gently it tickles and leaves you breathing out a laugh. So you relish in it. You shut your eyes and enjoy the way Jungkook presses wet kisses to your skin, you let yourself gasp in pleasure when he wraps his lips around your pierced nipple and sucks. 
Your hands instinctively slip through his hair, fingers yanking his thick strands as he hums against your skin, tongue flicking along the piercing. Jungkook feels the way you jut your chest further out, back arching at the sensation. A deep groan escapes you as his palm comes up to cup your other breast, the cool feeling of his rings sending a shiver down your spine. 
He smiles as he pulls back, cocky with eyes twinkling with mischief as his fingers playfully dance down your body. 
His eyes are locked with yours as his fingers reach the waistband of your jeans, teasingly dipping past it as he lifts a brow in question. He needed clear boundaries, not wanting to cross any lines. You find it cute, how despite the fact that you’re laying here, chest heaving with anticipation, eyes surely wild with desire, he’s still wanting to make sure. 
“Can I?” He repeats his earlier question, features soft as he waits for your answer. 
“We need to even out the playing field first Six,” you tease, smiling when he chuckles and points to his shirt. You nod, staring up at him from the bed as he kneels up, staring right at you as he reaches behind his neck and yanks the shirt off of his body. 
Your blood warms up further at the sight of him, seeing his muscles flex under his tattoos as he straightens back up. Jungkook tilts his head slightly, biting on his lip ring as he fights back the smile at your clear admiration. The black marks his skin, some tattoos looking darker than others, showing you just which ones were recent additions. 
The owl on his chest looks the brightest, edges still crisp, shading looking rich in the skulls beneath each wing. They seem to move as Jungkook takes a breath, snapping you out of it as you look back into his eyes. 
“Is this even enough for you?” he jokes, smiling wide when you nod in confirmation, your eyes following his movements as his hand returns to your jeans. You watch with bated breath as he unbuttons the top, slowly pulling down the zipper before his hands hook into the waistband and starts to tug. Your hips lift from the bed to help, allowing him to pull them off, tossing them to the side along with your shoes and socks. 
You can feel your stomach flipping with nerves, the worry of doing something new with someone new, the small clouds of insecurity rolling in, wondering if you looked good in this angle, if maybe Jungkook preferred you to look a certain way or wear cute underwear with bows on the front instead of the black regular cotton ones you currently have on. 
It all settles down as he drops lowers, eyes looking up at you as he presses kisses onto your hips and slowly tugs your underwear down, clearly not paying any mind to them. A trail of goosebumps blossom down your thighs, following your underwear as he pulls them off too. He stands up once more, eyes swimming with want as he sees you. 
“Let me get a good look at you,” he murmurs when he notices the way your arms begin to want to cover yourself up at being fully exposed. He thinks it's cute how shy you seem now, eyes bouncing away from his as he takes his time drinking you in. With your eyes diverted, he thinks it's a great time to dive in, his hands coming down to grip your palms while his face nudges its way into the crook of your neck to kiss your skin, smiling at the way you gasp and laugh at the ticklish feeling
“Jungkook!” you giggle, feeling his hands pin your own down on the bed, his mouth traveling down your body as he guides your hands into his hair, letting you know he wants you to keep playing with the strands. Your finger twirls his hair around, feeling him smile against your skin as he descends once more. 
“Everything about you is so pretty,” he mumbles into your stomach, eyes peering up at you while his hands return to your hips, slowly sliding down to your thighs to grip the flesh. Wet kisses smack into your skin, leaving a trail on each hip and down your thigh until he’s suddenly biting. He laughs when you gasp, your fingers tugging his hair on instinct when you look down with a shocked expression. 
“Looked so good you had to take a bite?” you joke, smiling down at him, feeling the fluttering in your stomach when he winks. 
“Oh I need more than just a bite,” he groans, fingers tightening their hold on your thighs before he presses a kiss directly onto your mound, slowly sticking his tongue out to gently flick along your slit. 
Jungkook loves the way your breath gets shaky as you exhale, a soft moan of his name reaching his ears when he gently parts your folds and teasingly flicks against your clit. A part of him knows this might be the one and only time he’ll ever get to experience you like this, the only time he’ll see you flush on his bed, gasping for more as your hips roll into him. So he wants to store every moment in his brain, keep it locked away until the next time he misses you. 
“Fuck Jungkook, that feels good,” you moan, fingers locked in his hair, keeping him close as he ravishes you. The praise makes his ego grow, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking with the perfect amount of pressure. It makes your stomach tense, short little zaps of electricity flowing through your body with each flick of his tongue. 
“Good, I just wanna make you feel good.” He leans back a bit, admiring the look of your sodden folds for a moment before he's letting a glob of spit drip from his mouth directly onto your clit. He bites his lip as his fingers spread it around, coating his digits as he circles your entrance. His eyes meet yours again, brow raised in question, smiling when you nod in response. Slowly, he pushes forward, eyes focused on your reaction, seeing the way you bite down on your lip as his finger sinks in. 
Jungkook tries not to let his mind get carried away when he feels your walls fluttering around his digit, already imagining how you would feel around him, feeling his cock aching in his jeans as he sinks a second finger in to properly stretch you out. With each thrust of his fingers his mind wanders further, the need to see you falling apart leading his mouth back onto you, the combining sensation making you moan louder. 
The stretch of his fingers has your head spinning, eyes falling shut as you mewl on his sheets, fingers raking through his hair. “More Jungkook, please,” you whimper, not able to get enough of him. 
The desperation lacing your voice makes Jungkook’s heart flutter, ready to comply with anything you want. He moans against your folds, a third finger adding to the delicious stretch. The wet clicks of his fingers thrusting into your drenched pussy fill the room, and it's the greed living inside of Jungkook that makes him want to thrust into you faster, make it so that all you can hear is the sound of your pleasure. 
Your breath hitches in your throat when he curves his fingers upwards, tickling the sweet spot that makes your eyes roll. That’s when you feel the familiar cool sensation of his rings once more. You were used to feeling them on your arms when he playfully pulled you around, used to the feeling of them on your cheeks when he gripped your face before kissing you, but feeling them against your cunt each time he thrust his fingers forward, it made your body burn up with lust. There was something about having the name of a club you were told to stay far away from pressed against you salaciously that only made the waves of pleasure you feel crash over you even harder. 
“Mm, close Jungkook,” you whine, your free hand sliding up your body to tug and pinch at your nipples. Jungkook peers up at you from between his thighs and the visual of you playing with yourself while he ate you out has him making a mess in his underwear. He doesn’t even care how easy it is for you to make him this needy, knowing you were enjoying yourself because of him was all that mattered. 
“Wanna feel you baby,” he mutters out, lips shiny with your arousal, fingers scissoring inside of you, feeling the way your walls tighten around him. Your hands grip his hair tighter, making him hiss, a breathy laugh hitting your messy folds when you guide his mouth back onto you. 
Jungkook knows you’re right on the edge, the craving for your release making you arch your back, moans of his name slurring together with pleas for more more. All it takes is a few more flicks of his tongue for your climax to crest, the prettiest moan he’s ever heard reaching his ears as you gush around his fingers. 
“There you go, good girl,” he groans, pulling back as he licks his lips, staring at your trembling body with eyes swimming with lust. His thumb replaces his mouth, rubbing your swollen clit, enjoying the way you writhe at the slight overstimulation. 
“Ah, ‘Guk,” you whimper. And the new nickname has him smiling, loving the way it sounds coming from you so much he almost doesn’t want to stop. It takes your small hands coming down to grip his wrist for him to finally pull away, your soft giggles of enjoyment coming to a halt when he slips his fingers into his mouth. 
“Told you I needed more than just a bite,” he teases, making an absolute show of licking his fingers. “What about you, are you satisfied?”
You lift yourself up with one arm, the other reaching forward to grip his belt loop, tugging him closer as you look up at him through your lashes. “Mm, no I don’t think I am.” His abs tense when your finger trails along his skin, toying with the button on his jeans, slowly popping them open and pulling down the zipper. 
“Then I need to fix that,” he mumbles, tongue flicking his lip ring as he stares down at you, watching the way you reach down to palm at his bulge. Your face lights up at his words, a smile spreading on your face as he helps you tug down his jeans, obviously eager. Jungkook’s smirk only deepens when your eyes widen once you finally release his cock, a small gasp escaping you at the size of him. 
Pearly beads of precum collect at his tip, swollen and aching for your touch, so when you finally grasp his length and swipe your thumb along the bulbous tip he lets out a deep groan that has your core clenching. 
“Fuck, babe.” He grunts when your palm starts to slide up and down, his eyes focused on the way you slowly inch forward, your tongue peeking out to gently lick his tip. Jungkook knows he’s in trouble, already feeling his body react to your touch. All you had done was give him a few teasing touches and his mind was already spinning. Its an inner battle as he watches you take more of him into your mouth, his jaw dropping at the warm feeling, hands clenching by his side when you moan at the taste of him. 
“Y/N,” he groans, “you’re gonna make me cum too fast.” You pop off of him with a wet smack, a saccharine smile on your lips as you giggle. 
“And that’s a bad thing?” Your head tilts as you question him, hand still lazily pumping his length. 
“It is when I want to fuck you first.” That makes your hand finally stop, brows raising in interest. Your free hand slides up his body, carefully cupping his face, guiding him down to kiss you. 
“Then fuck me, Jungkook. I’m yours,” you murmur against his lips, feeling him groan against you as he kisses you harder. You know what you mean. You’re his for the night, despite how strong your connection with him is, the reality was that as long as Minho had his claws sunk into you, there would never be a chance for you and Jungkook to delve deeper into this relationship. But this tiny bubble you were both in was enough for you. 
The energy is different than what you’re used to, the both of you smiling through the kisses, soft words whispered against skin as you help him take off his jeans. Jungkook’s laugh is infectious when you gasp at the sight of his thighs, the double headed wolf tattoo catching your attention immediately, praising it under your breath before he’s kissing you once more, telling you he’ll let you properly see it later as his hands grope your sides. 
“How do you want me?” you mumble, gently nipping his lip. 
“If it was my way I’d have you in every position I could think of. You tell me, baby.” If Jungkook let his selfish desires take over, he’d tell you he wanted you to ride him, let you bounce on top of him and use him while he got to watch your pretty face. But he can’t be that selfish, even if the small pestering voice in his head tells him that this might be his only chance to. Still, his eyes are soft as he pulls back, ringed hand caressing your face with a tenderness that makes your heart clench
“Can I ride you?” Your voice is timid, just above a whisper, but it makes Jungkook shut his eyes and groan. You see, he wasn’t corny, didn’t believe in fate or anything like that, but for a brief moment Jungkook's convinced this was meant to be. 
“Fuck,” he groans, leaning forward to rest his forhead against yours. “Yes, please.”
The way he begs makes your pussy ache, hips instinctively rolling up into his, enjoying the way he hisses, rutting his cock against your inner thigh. The beads of precum leak off his tip, leaving a small puddle by your hip, smeared around as he repeats the action. 
“O-okay,” you gasp, biting down on your lip as you peek at the visual, trying not to get lost in the way he teases himself. “Let me ‘Guk, wanna feel you.”
He nods, tendrils of hair tickling your face as he kisses you again before leaning back. You try not to stare but it's so hard when he looks like that, length hard and bobbing as he rummages through the drawer by his bed, a sheepish smile on his lips when he plucks out a shiny square packet. 
Your heart races in your chest as you sit up, coming onto your knees and crawling to the head of the bed, gently patting the space next to you. Jungkook’s quick to settle beside you, back leaning against the small headboard, large hands reaching to grab your hips and hoist you over his thighs. A small laugh escapes you at being manhandled, the toned muscles of his thighs felt underneath you, his cock poking at your belly from your proximity. 
Your eyes are glued to it, watching in awe as he pulls out the condom and carefully rolls it on, a small sigh meeting your ears. 
“Can’t wait to feel you,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his jaw, your hand meeting his around his cock as you lift your hips just enough. His free hand finds your hip again as you guide his tip to your entrance, teasingly circling it, slipping the tip inside for a second before popping it back out, the two of you gasping at the feeling. 
“Mm, sit on it,” he groans, brows pinched together as he nudges his nose into your neck. Wet kisses mark your skin, his hand getting tighter on your hip when you repeat the action again before finally sinking further down. Your walls clench around him, the stretch making you whine. You had seen his size, knowing just how big he was, but now that he’s inside of you and you feel it, you pace yourself. 
It's unintentionally torturous, the warm tightness slowly enveloping more of him and all he could do was clench his jaw and grip you harder. Jungkook is patient, fighting every urge he has to thrust up or sit you down fully. Instead he murmurs praises into your skin, tells you how good you feel, how good you’re doing, that you’re almost there until you’re butt rests flush against his thighs. 
A shuddering breath hits his shoulder, your face coming up to stare at him properly now. He’s staring at you with hooded eyes, mouth slightly opened as he gasps when your walls flutter. 
“So big,” you mumble, kissing him gently, lips ghosting over his, hips slowly lifting an inch before coming back down. 
“I know, baby. Take your time.” He groans, kissing you harder, teeth clicking together in his haste, breathing into each other. Jungkook felt like he was dreaming, some sick fantasy teasing him while he slept, giving him a taste of you before reality would settle in and snatch it all away. But you don’t usually feel this way in his dreams, don’t dig your nails into his shoulder as you quicken your pace, your wetness dripping down his cock and pooling at the base. And Jungkook is glad that he prefers reality over his dreams for once. 
“Oh god ‘Guk,” you moan, skin slapping together with each rise and fall of your hips. His lips are coated in a sheen of spit, swollen from your kisses and gentle bites, but he gives you a smile, clearly enjoying your reaction to him. 
“Does it feel good baby?” he murmurs, voice deep and raspy at the edges, his hand sliding up your thighs, pressing into your tummy with a tilt to his head. “Feel nice and full?”
You shudder at his question, feeling the pressure of his palm, and you swear you can feel the tip of his cock nudging into it. “Y-yes, so good, so full. Just wanna fuck you forever.”
He hums, feeling your words deep inside of him. It makes him melt into the headboard, hand traveling further up until he has a handful of your tits in them. Jungkook plays with them a bit, finger pinching and twisting the hard buds, tugging gently at the silver bar, hearing you moan at the sensation. 
“You can fuck me whenever you want,” he grunts at a particular drop of your hips, the wetness aiding in your pace. 
“Really?”
“Mhm,” he groans, thumb rolling along your nipple, softly rutting up into you. “Just text me whenever you want it. Pretty face, delicious pussy, I’ll always be here for you.”
“You’re such a romantic,” you giggle, throwing your head back as you get lost in the motion. Jungkook laughs with you, arm scooping around your back to pull you closer, his mouth kissing up and down your neck, teeth grazing the surface with the urge to suck but he knows better. 
“Just for you,” he breathes into your skin, feeling you laugh again. 
It feels like nothing else matters, not the potential consequences to this, no worry about what this meant for your special friendship. All that matters is that Jungkook is grabbing you like he can’t get enough of you, kissing you like his life depends on it, not shy at all at vocalizing how good it all feels. 
“Wanna cum,” you gasp, cupping his face, seeing the way he focuses on your lips as you speak. 
“Yeah? Tell me what you need.” He bends his knees slightly, pressure on his heels as he fucks up into you. The jiggle of your tits makes his mouth water, caught in a daze. 
“Need you to touch me.” It's the softest plea, tone dripping and needy, making Jungkook nod immediately. He bites his lip as he trails a hand up your chest, over your neck until he’s cupping your jaw, his thumb rubbing along your lower lip. With a gentle tap, you’re opening up, eyes locked together as you wrap your lips around the digit and suck, giving him a teasing bite as he tries to pull it out. 
He smiles at you, bringing down his soaked thumb in between your bodies until it reaches home directly onto your clit. The sudden touch makes you gasp, bundle of nerves swollen and sensitive, and its almost too much. But he’s gentle, easing you into the feeling, only applying more pressure when you finally relax, falling back into the delicious rhythm you have going. 
Jungkook can feel the coil tightening inside of him with each pulse of your pussy, walls clamping around him on each lift, making an absolute mess as the arousal drips onto his balls. 
“More?” He quickens his finger, circling your clit faster, paying close attention to your reaction. 
“Oh, fuck. No, like that. Just like that.” So he does, jaw dropped open as he watches you get lost in it all, bouncing on top of him as fast as you wanted, using him just like he wanted. Your thighs burn but it feels too good to think about stopping, the beginning signs of your orgasm licking at your skin, encouraging you to fuck him faster. You can hear how messy you’re leaving him, the squelch of your pussy blending in with the moans and thumping of the headboard. 
“Close, fuck—ah,” you stutter and gasp, brows pinched together tightly, only able to stare at him as you start to fall apart. He looks at you in awe, breathing in time with you, matching each gasp and moan, thumb slipping around in your slick. It's the accidental flick of his that has you tumbling over the edge, nearly shrieking out his name as your high comes barreling at you. 
Jungkook curses under his breath as you tremble above him. Your hand curls into his hair, yanking him forward into a messy kiss as you moan unabashedly, his thumb continuing to flick along your puffy clit for another minute to work you through it before he’s clutching onto your hips and controlling your speed. You’re still twitching at the aftershocks, small sparks kissing your skin and leaving you in a comfortable haze as you tangle your tongue with his, pulling back with a smile so sweet. 
“I wanna see you cum Jungkook,” you kiss him again, teasing him as you pull away and watch him chase you for more. “Made me feel so good, want you to cum for me.”
Jungkook groans, nodding as he wraps his arm around you, pushing off the headboard until the air is whooshing around you and your back is meeting the sheets once more. He cages you in easily, arms under your back, cradling your head as he buries his face into your neck and surges his hips into you. 
Your breath leaves you at the change in position, legs wrapping around his hips, shuddering as his pelvis nudges your sensitive clit. He doesn’t care how desperate he looks, fucking you like he was starved of affection, the need to cum taking over all of his senses. 
“Fuck, you’re so hot.” Your nails dig into his back, scratching along his skin, making him groan into your ear. His thrusts grow more sporadic, shallow, losing their grace as your purposefully clench around him. 
“Oh shit, you’re gonna make me cum.” He whines, voice breathy against your neck, and you swear you’ll cum again. 
“Yeah? Cum for me, c’mon,” you whisper, grazing his back and tightening your walls again. He nods against you before he’s leaning back, giving you the view you so sweetly asked for. His thick brows are furrowed on his forehead, eyes heady with lust, and a deep groan of your name spilling past his lips as he cums. Your feet urge him closer as his hips stutter, rutting into you to milk his orgasm as he fills up the condom. 
The room falls quiet for a moment, the both of you catching your breath, hearts slowing down as the high settles over your bones. And then he’s laughing, flopping back over you and tightening his hold on your body. 
“Why are you laughing?” You giggle too, hands running through his hair as you smile in a love sick daze. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard,” he admits sheepishly, kissing your warm skin, leaning back with a childish smile as he kisses your nose and ever so slowly starts to pull out of you. The sound is filthy, core sensitive and messy, and when he fully pulls out you can’t help but close your legs. 
He simply laughs, hand softly rubbing at your calves before he’s getting up and disposing of the condom. 
You’re still in that same foggy haze from earlier, even as Jungkook returns with a damp cloth to clean you up, all you can do is hum in thanks as you melt into his sheets. It doesn’t take long for him to settle in beside you again, holding you close, hand tickling the skin of the thigh you have hooked over his hip. 
“You have such pretty legs.” It’s a soft compliment, almost like it wasn’t meant to escape him. But when you look at him with a sincere smile he continues. “If you were mine I’d beg you to wear skirts all the time just so I could stare at them, touch them—“ he grips your thighs playfully, smiling at your laugh, “I’d be able to flick it up so easily and fuck you in it.”
Your laugh is louder now, your hand playfully swatting at his chest at how quick he was to get raunchy. 
If you were mine. 
That phrase repeats in your mind, sounding like a sweet song that you’d never get tired of hearing. 
“I’ll wear one at the meet next week,” you promise, running your hand over his chest. You knew you’d be seeing him there, able to freely ogle at him with all the neighboring clubs gathered together in an attempt to keep the peace. You might not be able to interact like you usually do, but just seeing him was enough. 
Just as he’s about to reply, the sound of a familiar engine cuts the air. You freeze instantly, wide eyes staring at Jungkook, seeing the confused look on his face. He lifts a hand up, motioning for you to stay as he sits up straighter, ears perking up when he hears the front door of the clubhouse open up. 
“Stay here. They won’t come in here but I know they saw my bike so I’ll get rid of them.” You can only nod as he hurries into his clothes, buttoning his jeans in a haste and deciding to forgo his shirt and shoes as he all but runs out of the room, shutting the door behind him. 
The haze you felt earlier is long gone, anxiety settling into your bones once more, realizing just what sort of situation you were in. Jungkook seemed to think the golden rule of staying away from Cobras was fine with you, but who knows just what kind of loyalty the Six member in the other room holds. 
All you needed was one man hell bent on loyalty to come barging in, and you don’t even want to think of what would become of you. Your heart rattles in your chest as you sit up too, eyes glancing around the room to find your pile of clothes. 
You can hear them mumbling in the main room, Jungkook’s laughter sounding out as he jokes around with his fellow brother. You can only imagine what he’s telling him, maybe explaining why theres a second bike parked next to his, or giving his reason for being shirtless and disheveled at the clubhouse this late in the day. Whatever is going on, you know you shouldn’t wait around to see how it plays out. Being with Jungkook makes reality pause, fade away and leave you to believe that things were meant to be this easy. 
But that's not your reality. 
You knew you wanted this to happen, could still feel the butterflies in your stomach as you remember the way he kissed your skin. But you couldn’t let the line be crossed this far again. You’re not sure karma would be too kind to you the next time. 
As quiet as you can, you slip out of bed, carefully putting your clothes back on and looking at the desk in the corner. Before you overthink it, you grab the pen and notepad he has resting on top of paperwork, scribbling out a quick note before you’re returning to his bedside, yanking up the curtains and wiggling the window open to slip out. 
Back in the main room, Jungkook is sitting on the bar stool, Hoseok resting against the counter as they both joke around. Jungkook is thankful that Hoseok doesn’t seem to ask too many questions, knowing very well that he must have some girl in the room, but he wasn’t nosey enough to want to know who. 
“So you’re not gonna introduce your friend?” he jokes, giving Jungkook a coy smile, enjoying the way his younger friend blushes and shoves his shoulder. 
“No you weirdo, you fucking scared her by showing up like this. Why the hell are you here anyway?”
Hoseok cackles, pushing away from the counter and walking towards the meeting room. “Sorry, I didn't mean to be a cockblock. I forgot to grab some paperwork.” The way he says it makes it seem like it was work documents, contracts that needed to be signed instead of files detailing the amount of guns they’d be receiving in the next drop. He disappears into the room, returning a few moments later with the folder in his hand. “I’ll be out of your hair now.”
And he does just that, waving goodbye and stepping back outside. But as he approaches his bike he realizes the bike he had seen next to Jungkook’s was missing now. 
Jungkook is none the wiser as he walks back to his room, a smile on his face that falls when he doesn’t see you on the bed. The sheets are a mess, your clothes are missing, his curtains are drawn up and his window remains cracked open. He steps closer now, a white sheet of paper catching his attention on his desk. 
Thanks for the tour, I think your room might be my favorite<3 Remember, we take this to our graves. We’ll kiss on it over sour straws soon x
Ps. I’ll see you at the meet, I’ll be the one in the short skirt. 
Maybe it's the sick hopefulness he feels in his chest, but Jungkook can’t help but smile as he thinks this won’t be the last time afterall.
1K notes · View notes
helluvapoison · 1 month
Note
4. Trying to hide your injury from them, but failing miserably once you faint right in front of them, "5. Where does it hurt the most?" with Lucifer and reader
Injured Prompt
Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
Did you know when you roll your ankle you’re not supposed to walk on it? You might’ve known that if the Pride Ring’s hospital ever answered the fucking phone!
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
If your boyfriend Lucifer wasn’t out and about today, making up for some odd months of meetings, he could’ve teleported you there in no time. Then again, if he was here he might summon Belphegor themself. Not wanting to bother anyone, you told yourself it would be fine. Besides with Hell’s “no checking out early” healing abilities, it would right itself on its own by tomorrow! That continued to be your mantra but as the day got away from you it became harder to ignore that stabbing pain in your foot.
It certainly didn’t help that you’d overexerted yourself by helping Charlie move things up and down the hall because Nifty had clogged the pipes (again) which resulted in minor flooding damage. The whole time it felt like Vaggie’s suspicious stare saw right through your poorly worn mask. Charlie asked no less than 22 times if you were ok to which you waved off her concerns. It took a few hours but the furniture was moved out of the room, leaving only a mushy carpet to deal with. Neither Kiki nor Alastor could be found and since Lucifer wasn’t there to snap the problem away, the princess attempted herself. However her powers were still a bit… undisciplined. The best she could do to try and evaporate the water had actually set the carpet on fire.
Vaggie rested her hand on Charlie’s shoulder with a soft smile, “It might be time for a break, babe. Don’t want you to overdo it.” She pointedly shot that part at you.
With a sigh the blonde conceded and allowed Vaggie to usher her out.
Simultaneously grateful but cursing the downtime, you waited a minute before leaving yourself. Now that you've slowed to a stop your ankle throbbed with vengeance. Peeling your sock back to take a peek, you gasped. Your foot was definitely not purple this morning! Shit shit shit, it was definitely time for a break!
You limped to the elevator, using the wall for support when Lucifer rounded the corner. Like the wall had tried to bite you, you yanked your hand from it and forced both feet flat on the ground. You grimaced, poorly trying to conceal it with a smile.
“Duckie!” You greeted through a wheeze. Has breathing been this hard all day?
With much more enthusiasm in his voice, he sang your name and rushed over. Lucifer lifted you off the ground to spin with you in his arms, unknowingly providing momentary relief. His laugh and smile were infectious. Just a second with him had swept you into the world you shared and washed away your troubles. Unfortunately they returned once he set you down and despite how gently he did, you hissed when you touched the floor again.
“What was that?” He asked with a tilted head, holding onto your waist.
“Oh, uh, I’m practicing my Sir Pentious impression!”
You’re unsure why you lied. Maybe a part of you wanted to pretend for a little longer. You think back to the time you got a paper cut and he forced you into bed rest for three days. Once he found out about your ankle nearly snapping in half, you would, inadvertently, send him spiraling into his mother duck state of mind! And the poor man never seemed to catch a break! You didn’t want to stress him out over something that would heal.
He seemed to believe your fib.
At least someone did because it was getting harder to convince yourself.
“It’s good, it’s good!” Lucifer nodded thoughtfully, narrowing his eyes. You instantly knew he was trying to recall just who the serpent fellow was. “Anywho, I ran into Charlie just now. Heard this place almost fell apart without me, huh?”
He nudged your arm with his elbow, prompting you to laugh instead of focusing on the pain. You forced the sound out a bit too much to try and make leaning against the wall look natural. It didn’t. You almost collapsed against the surface, sliding down as your leg began to give. Lucifer slipped his hands under your arms, doing the majority work of holding you up. Your head began nodding off and you realized you were face to face with him. Not a good sign considering your height difference. He was wearing his nervous grin that you knew all too well he only put on before he started panicking internally.
“Darling, is this part of the Sir Pina Colada impression? Starting to, uh, worry over here.”
“Nothing, nothing. I think… I just… nee..”
The last thing you see is Lucifer’s smile dropping entirely, pupils shrinking to worry-filled slits.
Then black.
~
There’s a moment while waking up where it’s pure bliss. You’re not you; you’re not anyone. You barely exist— and then you do. The worries, memories, pain; it all comes rushing up on you like a train and hits you just as hard. You scrunch your nose and pull your eyebrows together as you attempt to sit up. Silk under your palms have you acutely aware that you’re not in your bed, but Lucifer’s. And you know what they say about speaking of the devil.
“Oh no! Nonononono, I don’t think so,” He sings, gently pushing your shoulders back until you’re flat against the plushy pillows, “You’ve got some explaining to do. ”
“Fuck, ‘m sorry,” You groan, “I thought I had it under control! I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Au contraire, darling, I want to worry about you! Just maybe not that much next time, alright? I think I had a heart attack! If that’s what those feel like… Ech.” Lucifer was wracked by a shiver, shaking off the final wave with his head.
You let out a breathy laugh.
The man smiled at the sound and honed his full attention on you, forcing a serious, but soft, tone, “Now! Doctor Morningstar is here to help, so tell me, where does it hurt most? ”
“My ankle.”
You recoiled when he attempted to peel away your sock. He muttered an apology, studying your foot rather unfazed. As interesting as it was to watch him get truly somber about something, you couldn’t appreciate it right now. The fire spreading from your ankle stole all your senses and he wasn’t even touching it anymore.
“It wasn’t all purple-y yesterday right? We might have to amputate.”
“Lucifer.” You growled through grit teeth.
He chuckled. “Sorry. That one killed when Charlie was younger. Ok, ok! Pain management first, jokes later.”
There was a heavy knock on the door that made both of you turn your heads. Your eyes narrowed while a bright grin spread across his porcelain face.
“Are you expecting someone?” You asked suspiciously.
“Belphegor, of course!”
Of course.
655 notes · View notes
envy-of-the-apple · 2 months
Note
ive been really obsessed with your gojo/geto naga oneshots and asks lately it feels like literal brain rot at this point its so good. ive reread it 6 times lol
i was wondering though, what would Geto do if Gojo was just a little bit too heavy handed with you? to the point of a sprained or broken arm or leg. Would he get mad at Gojo or just mad in general that reader was hurt? Also how would they act in response to the injured reader who can't do basic tasks themselves, I personally think they would enjoy the fact she relied on them even more to even move now.
Reminder requests are still closed!!!! I just love this idea so so much holdon lemme-
Part one
(Yandere, dark, implied forced relationships, noncon touching, biting, language barriers, drugging(?))
Top of the Food Chain pt2
Dark!Naga!SatoSugu x reader
Two days later, Satoru still wasn't allowed inside the cave.
You can hear him, hissing and clicking, right outside, hovering just behind the invisible line Suguru refused to let him pass. If you weren't already in so much pain, you would have found pity on the poor thing. He wasn't allowed in his own home, even though the incident wasn't entirely his fault.
Technically, Satoru saved you. It was yet again another escape attempt. Something you'd been doing a lot these days once you've figured out these beings' intentions with you. You'd gotten past the rock quarry this time, a new record. Your plan was filled with holes: there was no way to truly escape the island. You had no boat, no way to call for help. Still, you ran, forgetting that there were more dangerous things on this island other than two territorial serpent men.
It was a monster. There was no other way to describe it. Big, ugly, shiny spikes and sharp teeth, eyes dripping with bloodlust. You would have been eaten, killed, maimed, if Satoru hadn't caught up with you in time.
The only collateral was the loss of nearby plant life and your broken wrist.
That had been Satoru's fault. He'd pulled at you too hard at the hand. The remnants of adrenaline from the fight, his anger, anger made him too rough on your fragile body. He froze at the wet snap, and then you started screaming. That was how Suguru had found you. Despite how much Satoru clicked and hummed and tittered, from his mate's look, you doubted it helped his case.
Another lonely coo made you wince. Suguru only huffed, wrapping you tighter in his coils. They were already warm from your body heat. The numerous animal pelts helped your comfort too.
"Make him stop," you beg, "he's been going on for hours."
At that, Suguru lifts his head from the base of your neck. He tilts his head as he surveys you, and you can't help but think how awful you must look. Sickly-looking from the pain, clammy skin. He can't do much about your appearance, but the least he could do was shut Satoru up.
"What want?" Suguru asks, "water?"
At that, he picks up a sack filled with sea-smelling water. You wrinkle your nose, turning away, cocooning yourself within his coils. With the increased pain, your appetite has decreased, as well as your thirst. The stress of being trapped like this along with your broken wrist was starting to take its toll on your body.
Suguru makes a sound of disapproval, shuffling around behind you. You know he's still mad about the escape attempt, but he's concerned enough for your well-being to put his anger to the side for now. He'd helped wrap your wrist, using something stretchy and soft.
You raise your wrist up, inspecting the thin material wrapped around your wrist. You're not sure what it is, it's too silky to resemble cotton. It must be from the foliage around the island. Yet, another strange thing you'd never find the answer to.
There's another rumble coming from the Naga's chest. He wraps a hand around your chin, bringing your face closer. In his other, he holds the dripping sack.
"Suguru," it's too soft to be anything more than a whine, "it hurts too much to take anything right now. Stop."
"Hurt?" he asks.
To that, you gesture to your broken wrist. It may not have been broken, you were no doctor, so you couldn't say for certain. But considering you'd been in the same amount of pain for two days, it really didn't matter to you.
A click, before he's tossing a glare at the entrance of the cave. He'd already given Satoru a beating right before coming to coddle you. Despite being bigger than his mate, Satoru is docile enough to take them. Suguru had been acting more aggressive lately. You had a feeling it was your fault.
He'd been inspecting your wrist every so often, but you see a different look within his brown eyes now as he takes your injured hand. He carefully turns your palm over, pressing slightly into your wrist. When you yelp, he retracts.
"Hurt." Suguru confirms. You can only nod.
"Hurt. No drink? No eat?" You don't like the way he's talking. As if he's putting a puzzle piece together. Coming to a solution you won't like.
When you go to pull away, his grip only tightens.
"No hurt," he says it like a promise, as though you're a toddler and he's coaxing you into drinking a sour-tasting medicine. His lips part, revealing the fangs you've often seen him use on meat, on Satoru.
Never did you think he'd ever use them on you.
"Suguru," you're pleading, trying to move away when he bends down, his hair brushing your sweaty forehead. You can feel his breath on your neck.
"No hurt," he repeats, and then he bites down.
He lied, of course, he did. His teeth puncture your skin, tearing through like paper. You think you screamed, or maybe it was more akin to a pitiful whimper. In the background, you can hear someone hiss, Satoru maybe?
For a second, you feel everything, the pain, the puncture wound, Suguru lightly licking your neck.
And then, you feel weightless.
It's hard to describe, but your brain feels like it's turned to mush. Your body feels like you're on a soft cloud, just there, floating. In the back of your mind, you remember how dazed Satoru would get whenever Suguru bit him. At the time, you just thought he was lovestruck.
When Suguru pulls away, he's smiling. A trail of blood, your blood goes down his lip. You can barely keep your eyes on him, close to falling asleep.
"No hurt," he says. When he leans down to kiss you, you accept without a single fuss.
You don't remember much after that, but you remember accepting whatever Suguru put in your mouth. The panic in your body was non-existent as he held the water-sack above your lips, watching as your throat bobbed. You think he kissed you a few more times, but you're not too sure. You were a lot more averse to kissing before. It'd make sense he'd take advantage of it.
When you wake up again, you're in between two bodies. The pain in your wrist is still there, but not as horrible as before. You're still groggy, mind fuzzy. Whatever Suguru had given you was still in effect.
Satoru is the first to notice you're awake. Suguru and him must have made up during the time you were unconscious. He props himself up, peering down at you. With how dim the cave is, you can barely make out his features. He looks just as guilty as he had two days ago.
"Sorry," he mutters, "is sorry."
If you weren't still high, you might have laughed. When you continue to stare, he takes it in stride, leaning forward to kiss your cheek, then your lips. You wince in distaste, leaning back.
"Stop," you say but don't fight when he licks at your jaw. You can barely move your fingers.
Panic is still far away, a distant call than anything alarming. It should worry you, but you still can't feel anything.
Suguru is at your back. You can hear his scales move across the cavern floor. He gives a hum, content as he curls himself around you. He doesn't seem to mind Satoru's touches. Your theory that they must have made up is unfortunately starting to strengthen.
You could barely manage Suguru's coddlings. You don't think you'll survive Satoru's.
"Sorry," he mouths into your neck. You can feel the grip on your waist starting to tighten. He stops, rising up to stare at you.
Blue, almost glowing.
"But no more leave."
You're coherent enough to piece together what he means. You can't escape Satoru. You can't escape Suguru. You can't leave this island. Running away is useless.
The nagas understood it. It's time you did too.
"Yes," you finally say, "no more leave."
667 notes · View notes
missblissy · 5 months
Text
Domestic Astarion x Reader HCs
A/N: UwU just wanted to add to the married life headcanons after the events of the game. Fluffy good stuff below. GN!Tav, no class/race. Enjoy!
Some days always started better than others. But that’s only to say because someone didn’t need as much sleep as you, and had a life time left to learn new skills. One of them being cooking. Sure Astarion can’t taste and it’s a useless skill to him. But you? He would do anything for you. And that includes learning to cook for the sheer simple act of spoiling you with a warm and home made breakfast in bed.
It’s strange to say you two never had a wedding. That’s not to say you two weren’t married. “Oh…?” Astarion isn’t sure how to explain this when someone asks, “Well, you see, my darling little love here found this-” He holds up his hand and wiggles the ring in his finger, “On a rotting old skeleton then found the matching one, get this, on another smelly corpse!” Most people wouldn’t look fondly on something like that. But no, Astarion wasn’t most people. He’d smile and swoon, “And I suppose since then we’ve been married,”
It doesn’t help that back then when you did find those rings, you quite literally told him, “We’re married now,” As a joke. It wasn’t joke….
Astarion has a habit of leaving you poems to find in the most hidden of places. Like little lost treasures. Or maybe he just knows the looting demon you are at heart with your little grabby fingers going for anything they can touch. So it always comes to a surprise to you when you open a book and a poem written years ago flutters out… but the love and truth still rings pure despite the yellowing of the pages.
Crimson sons, vermillion daughters. Quivering maroon, burgundy, cardinal. Short fainting strokes Fester a broken carotid Free from feathers Unbound By the serpent's head no more.
His way of saying thank you for everything you've ever given him. And then some. No matter the message you cherished each treasured poem you would find.
The man had a knack for spoiling you, unconditionally, and most importantly, endlessly. If you saw something out in a shop that caught you eye, but you were just to stubborn to get it for yourself. Surprise, surprise when you get home and find it there with a man beaming proud like a puppy with his bone.
But that didn’t mean affection was off the table either. Astarion spoiled you with kisses, big ones, little ones, some on the back of your hand as he opened a door for you. Others on your cheek, gently but with sorrow as he left for some few weeks for whatever reason. He had his own things to do and sometimes you couldn’t go with him. But that just meant when he got home you could throw your arms around him, breathe him in and share the long awaited kiss of his return.
Married life strangely suited you both, from the little grabbing of hands under tables, the protective placement of an arm, the look of pride when the other did something extraordinary. And Astarion would always be the more boastful in pride when it came to talking about you.
And he couldn’t help but show off, sure he’s loud and arrogant about it. Saying he was best option of course, no one else stood a chance… blah blah blah. But when no one was around he can look you in the eye and practically grovel, “I am so lucky you chose me,”
There were many other things that came with the long life of being married together. The two of you were quite dedicated to learning to… dance. Astarion hadn’t a clue wether his left foot was right, and you may have been no better. It was your idea really. You heart would swoon watching other couples and with an eager voice you pointed a finger and declared, “I want to do that too!”
And so you did, but behind the close doors of your own home. Seeing as Astarion didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of so many people. Where you both could trip and side step and laugh, giggle and make the most out of learning something new together.
It seemed the two of you had a habit of learning things together. From silly little drawings, to paintings, perhaps an instrument or two. You both always found a way to share your hobbies and passions together.
And it was the mornings, where these happened most often. Naturally Astarion couldn’t be in the sun but that didn’t stop him from enjoying what little light he could. You’d find him in the dusty dusk right before the sun actually broke the horizon.
He had been teaching himself to play the piano, so to wake up in the morning and not hear the soft echos of keys down the halls would be a bad sign. It’d be another bad sign if you didn’t sit down beside him, stroking the keys as the two of you played a song that was always in the process of being made and never done.
Surely soon he’d go off to sleep, sharing kisses and affection. You wouldn’t see him again until the evening, when the sun was starting it decent. Day-phobia was real in vampires no matter how much they loved the sun and he didn’t have a worm anymore to help him fight that. But he managed, enjoying every sun rise and sun set he got to see just as the world of night came and went.
Despite staying up all night sometimes just to be beside him, it was fairly often that Astarion would have to nag you to go to sleep. You’d barely have even one eye open, drifting back and forth between dreams and you’d still tell him, “I’m not tired, I’m just resting my eyes,” All because he was up late in kitchen and you didn’t want to leave his side.
He often compromises though, making deals and barters, “If I go upstairs with you, will you go to sleep?”
“…” Surely you aren’t going to say no? “Will you be the big spoon?”
“Of course,” How could he say no to a face like yours? And such a sleepy one too?
He didn’t mind, not really. Some nights he’d stay in bed with you until the morning. Even though nothing would get done, or things he had planned were set aside, he wouldn’t sleep either, he truly really didn’t mind. He could lay there for eternity holding you close and be at peace.
802 notes · View notes
telomeke · 5 months
Text
THE SIGN – CULTURAL REFERENCES, MYTHOLOGY AND META
Tumblr media
This post comes on the heels of the one by @respectthepetty about mythology and meta of The Sign, linked here. 😍👍 If you've not read it yet, I recommend you do before watching any more of this series, because it will help things make more sense (especially if you're not familiar with some of the cultural references thrumming in the background).
Anyway, I'd previously done some research on the legend(s) of the Garuda and the Naga in Southeast Asia, and so I'm writing this post to share what I've found because it does have relevance to at least some of what we're seeing onscreen in The Sign, and elaborates on @respectthepetty's post.
The Garuda and the Naga are mythical beings with origins in Indian mythology that have been transposed into cultures across Southeast Asia.
Tumblr media
In Hinduism, Garuda is a single deity, depicted in either full-bird form or part-bird and part-human, and is the king of birds and also a divine sun-bird (with physical attributes similar to an eagle's). His elder brother, Aruna, is the chariot driver for Surya the sun-god, while Garuda himself is the mount of Vishnu.
In Buddhist mythology, the garudas (sometimes also spelt garulas) are a society and race of gigantic predatory birds, sometimes also depicted as part-human in form. The garudas are intelligent, social and blessed with might and magical powers.
Thailand may be predominantly Buddhist, but it has also been strongly influenced by ancient Indian culture and Hinduism, and thus both the concept of a single deity Garuda and the race of garudas co-exist in Thai mythological beliefs.
The nagas on the other hand, are snake-like or dragon-like creatures, whose realm is the water world. (The word naga is derived from Sanskrit and is also etymologically related to the English word snake.)
In mythology nagas and garudas are perpetual enemies, although neither side is actually identified with good or evil – they are simply two groups eternally at war with each other (so occidental-leaning minds should dispel any preconception that the water serpents are necessarily the bad guys in The Sign, even though the narrative seems to be tilting in that direction).
When borrowed into popular culture (as has been done for The Sign) you may sometimes see influences of Chinese dragon and phoenix mythology (as Chinese cultural influence is also present in Thailand, and the dragon/phoenix motif of Sinitic culture nicely parallels the naga/garuda conflict pairing). And because of Garuda's association with the sun in Hinduism, and a parallel with the fiery phoenix of Western mythology, you may sometimes see garudas portrayed as aligned with the sun and/or flame as well.
There are some hints of these in The Sign. The naga that Phaya encounters while struggling underwater during the open sea training challenge in Ep.1 is very Thai in appearance (especially with the curved, forward-pointing crest, making it look much like the nagas that adorn Thai temple architecture). But the array of pronged, backward-pointing horns and trailing antennae appear to be a design nod at Chinese or Japanese dragons (East Asian dragons are also strongly identified with the watery realm, by the way). And in the graphics of the series (e.g., in the poster at the start of this post), the sky (the realm of Garuda) is suffused with sunlight and speckled with what look like drifting sparks, referencing sun and flame.
Because of the wings tattooed on his back and his time in the air force, Phaya is most likely the reincarnation of a garuda in human form (and this is why he struggled with the water challenge, as he was completely out of his element).
Tumblr media
This is also possibly why we see him smoking early on in the series (because of the alignment of Garuda with the element of fire), and significantly he does this while Naga Tharn (irked by Yai's teasing at the dining table) seeks refuge in the washroom (which is ห้องน้ำ/hong naam in Thai, literally water room):
Tumblr media
‌Billy also describes Phaya's character in the promo video for the series (linked here) as being "like fire, always hot and burning... quite hot-headed." 👍
Elsewhere in the same promo video (linked here), Tharn's good friend Chalothon is explicitly identified as the reincarnation of an important naga, which immediately signals that he and Phaya will be at odds in the series:
Tumblr media
The water deity that saves Phaya during the open sea challenge – Wansarat, whom he drew in his sketchbook – is not just Freen Sarocha in a fancy scuba suit. 😂
Tumblr media
If you look at her arm and hand when she reaches out to save Phaya (before she turns into Tharn) the green scales meld into the skin of her human wrist – they're part of her natural covering, and she's really a nakhee/nagin/nagini, a female naga, appearing in human form to save Phaya.
The narrative has made it strongly obvious that Phaya is a reincarnated garuda, while Tharn is the reincarnation of Wansarat, from the lineage of the nagas. And the teaser-trailer (linked here) tells us that Phaya and Tharn/Wansarat are lovers bound to each other through time:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
However, the special promo video (released 24 November 2023) also tells us (in Heng's interview linked here) that Chalothon and Wansarat were lovers in past lives, even while it is Phaya and Wansarat (reincarnated as Tharn) who are paired by fate in The Sign.
And as the nagas and garudas are bitter enemies, the love story between Phaya and Tharn/Wansarat that transcends time and reincarnation cycles is also one that must have been (and will continue to be) forbidden by their respective naga and garuda tribes (especially since Tharn/Wansarat also used to be naga Chalothon's lover), and will undoubtedly be a source of conflict in the series. This is way beyond the Montagues and Capulets! 😍
So with this as the base, I took a look at the characters' names, and those belonging to Phaya, Chalothon, Tharn and Wansarat especially also reflect their garuda/naga origins. 🤩
Phaya's name (พญา) means lord, king or leader. While it can be applied to the nagas (พญานาค/phaya naak refers to the King of the Nagas) it is also used for Garuda (the Thai national symbol) – พญาครุฑ/phaya khroot, or Lord Garuda (and is what his name references in The Sign).
Tumblr media
(above) Billy Patchanon as Phaya
Chalothon's name (ชโลทร) is rare, but it is derived from Pali/Sanskrit and means river, sea or body of water, reflecting the watery homeland of his naga persona.
Tumblr media
(above) Heng Asavarid as Chalothon
Tharn's name (ธาร) also has a connection to his water-dwelling naga roots. Tharn/ธาร is short for ลำธาร/lam thaan and means stream, brook or creek (and he is thus a naga nong to Chalothon's phi).
Tumblr media
(above) Babe Tanatat as Tharn/Wansa
However, Tharn is his chue len. His formal name is Wansa, and is the same Wansa in Wansarat (which the narrative lets us know at Ep.1 [3‌/4] 9.35).
Tumblr media
(above) Freen Sarocha as Wansarat
Now Wansarat is spelt วรรณษารัตน์ in the subtitles (at Ep.1 [3‌/4] 9.02), and I can't find any translation of it that makes sense in the context of The Sign's world-building.
But Wansarat's name is spelt differently elsewhere on the Internet (on Thai drama websites, and movie databases, etc. like thaimovie.org), and I assume they've all based it on official releases from Idol Factory because the spelling is consistent across these other sources – it's วรรษารัตน์ there.
And Wansa/Wansarat spelt this way also reflects the nagas' dominion over water, because วรรษา/wansa (an archaic word, referenced in an older dictionary but not newer ones) means rain or rainy season (from the Sanskrit varsha) – in Thailand the nagas are also associated with rain control, and prayers are offered to them for timely and abundant rainfall when it is needed. (The -rat part of Wansarat is a feminine ending meaning jewel or gemstone, and may echo with meaning for speakers of Indian and Sri Lankan languages, since it's derived from the Pali/Sanskrit ratna).
Just out of interest (because nobody asked 😂) some of these naga/garuda elements were also present in the early episodes of KinnPorsche – the den of the Theerapanyakuls (nagas, wealthy beings of the underworld) was full of watery elements (e.g., the waterfall, the various pools, and Tankhun's carp – which in Chinese belief are the original, natal form of dragons). The -nak in Kinn's formal first name Anakin (which is not a traditional Thai name) is also a nod at the word naga. Porsche had the tattoo of a fiery phoenix on his back, and was out of his element whenever water was concerned (e.g., his failed pool challenge, the mermaid costume punishment, his misadventure with the sprinkler when he tried to smoke in the store room – water vanquishing the flame). Kinn was unable to make fire when they were trapped in the forest, despite claiming to be friends with the flame, while Porsche could immediately do it.
But I didn't see the KinnPorsche narrative taking the naga/garuda themes much further than these random nods in the earlier episodes. Maybe it did (like Kinn and Porsche could be seen acclimatizing to each other's realms more), but I just couldn't be bothered to look at the show more closely since it didn't really stand up to deeper scrutiny, and after the first few episodes I just went along for the exhilaration of the ride instead. 👍
Anyway, I'm totally bedazzled by the level of world-building going on in The Sign and look forward to more from the series. If the first episode is anything to go by, I think Executive Producer Saint Suppapong may be on to something! 😍
564 notes · View notes
Text
'A Glimpse Of Serpents'
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Clarisse La Rue x DaughterOfMedusa!Reader
A/N:Love,love,LOVE the concept of this but Idk how to feel abt how this turned out
Clarisse finds out her girlfriend's heritage and the fact that she inherited her mother's petrifying gaze
In the golden glow of a summer afternoon at Camp Half-Blood, Clarisse La Rue strolled through the training grounds, her armor glinting in the sunlight.
As Clarisse neared the archery range, she spotted her girlfriend,you,leaning against a tree.You,the daughter of Medusa,always wore sunglasses – a necessary shield against the curse that lived within your gaze.Clarisse greeted you with a warm smile, but something in the atmosphere around them felt off.
The sunlight caught the lenses of your sunglasses, and in a fleeting moment, Clarisse saw a reflection that sent a chill down her spine. It wasn't just a normal reflection; it was a glimpse of something unimaginable. In that fraction of a second, Clarisse saw the twisted, serpentine eyes of yours, eyes that mirrored the cursed heritage passed down from Medusa herself.
Clarisse looked at you,eyes wide for a moment,but then a scowl forming on her face as she decided to question you - to confirm if what she just witnessed was right. "What's with the shades all the time? We're in camp,not some fancy set." she grumbled.
You hesitated for a moment,then sighed,deciding to tell her "Clarisse, there's something I need to tell you, but you have to promise not to freak out.Please."
Clarisse scoffed, "Just spill it already."
Taking a deep breath,you removed your sunglasses - not meeting Clarisse's gaze,you revealed eyes that mirrored the unsettling gaze of your mother, Medusa. Clarisse recoiled, her anger momentarily replaced by shock.
"What the hell!?" Clarisse's voice trembled with a mixture of disbelief and betrayal.
You nodded solemnly, "I didn't want you to find out like this,but I didn't know how to tell you."
Clarisse's fists clenched, her expression hardening. "You've been keeping this from me? Are you trying to turn me into stone or something!?" she was furious now,and it was showing - both from her face and her tone.
You pleaded, "No, Clarisse, I love you. I wear the sunglasses to avoid accidentally turning anyone to stone. I've been trying to protect you."
Clarisse's anger flared up, "Protect me?!Protect me!!? By keeping such a major secret? You think I can't handle it?!"
You stammered "I was scared, okay? I thought you'd hate me!"
Clarisse glared at you, the hurt evident in her eyes. "You could have trusted me.But instead,you lied to my face!!"
You gasp,panic setting in,stumbling backwards. "Clarisse, please don't..."
But it was too late. Clarisse snapped, her temper boiling over. "Get away from me! I can't believe I trusted you."
You winced,devastated, turned around and fled deep into the forest. Clarisse, seething with anger and confusion,stood alone near the archery range.As you ran,your tears mingled with the constant muttering of "monster, monster, monster" echoing through the trees.
Clarisse was still grappling with the revelation and the harsh words she had just hurled at the person she loved. Deep down, she knew you weren't a monster, but the shock had ignited a volatile reaction. As the echoes of your footsteps faded, Clarisse was left with the weight of her own regret, realizing that the trust they had built might be shattered.
Eventually, Clarisse found you sitting by the lake alone, staring at your reflection with a mixture of self-loathing and fear. The raw vulnerability in that moment softened Clarisse's anger. She approached you with a gentleness that hadn't been there before.
As you looked up,tear-stained eyes meeting Clarisse's amidst the shadows of the ancient trees as you cried harder and spoke,your eyes still hidden behind the sunglasses. "You don't understand,Clarisse!You can't understand!I'm a monster.My mother's curse runs through me.I never asked to be born a monster!I didn't...I really didn't..." your words seemed to catch in your throat as you sobbed.
Clarisse sighed,still obviously upset - but she spoke in a calmer tone,attempting to calm you down.She kneeled besides you and spoke "Look,sorry for how I acted back there.It just..I was disappointed and sad - sad that you didn't tell me,sad that you lied to me...but I'm not running away from you.I would never run away from you." Clarisse spoke softly, her voice a contrast to the anger from before. "We're in this together,no matter what.But you've got to trust me,even with the parts you consider ugly."
Clarisse gently reached for her girlfriend's hand, her expression softening. "I know I can be a handful, but I'm not going anywhere.We face things together, good and bad. Trust me, okay?" She offered a small, reassuring smile, hoping to mend the moment and strengthen your connection as you embraced,hugging eachother tightly.
A/N:This was kinda fun to write but I mean - it's something? Anyways finished my hw 💀
426 notes · View notes
Text
Pt VIII good omens a spoiler-free trailer
*walks into church, ignoring the gasps of the congregation* *holds mic to a terrified gentleman's face*
Have you ever wondered, what if the flaming sword at the Garden of Eden was insufferably in love with the Serpent?
*doesn't wait for response, shoves mic in shaking lady's face*
What if I told you, your bible studies are incomplete, because they are missing the most important story of all?
*cut to me in front of a white screen, walking seductively toward camera in a suit*
Worry not, for your prayers have been answered. Presenting, Good Omens, a kind-of biblically accurate story by Sir Terry Pratchett and Tumblr's own @neil-gaiman, now a TV show and queerer than ever. All you AO3 slow-burn hoes, we see you. You asked for it, you got it. Childhood friends is so last millennium, we give you instead, six thousand years of mutual pining.
*hard cut to David Tennant, whom I have stuck to a chair with Elmer's glitter glue* *he struggles, in vain*
Starring David Tennant and his signature slutty walk as Crowley, now in a ginger Barbie edition that comes with demonic eyes, every hairstyle and gender you could ever dream of, and instant outfit changes. It really is a miracle!
*camera swivels to focus on Michael Sheen, who is bound in blankets and looking deeply concerned*
Starring Michael Sheen the fae shapeshifter as Aziraphale, the sweetest, most cherubic murderous bitchy angel you've ever seen. Special features include automatic heart-eyes the moment he is faced with Crowley, a charming disregard for casual massacre in the name of God, and the instant outfit changes. Watch him melt your heart before breaking it! Bonus tip: try giving him sushi!
*cut back to the white screen, I am now sitting uncomfortably close to the camera*
Follow Aziraphale and Crowley as they alternatively try to follow and thwart God's ineffable plan, managing to spectacularly fail at both tasks with a consistency that amazes as it befuddles. Featuring alcohol, a bookstore, and metaphorical and literal fire as things get a little... heated in the Bible fandom.
*crossfade to Soho, I walk along the street as the camera follows me*
If that isn't enough to convince you, presenting also, idiot lesbians giving an ancient demon love advice, sexy horsepersons of the apocalypse, an unofficial wedding combined with burning Nazis alive where the most important part is the handing over of a suitcase, and the sexiest MILF witch Agnes Nutter, a literal bombshell.
*cut to disturbing close up of Neil Gaiman's face* *he tries to step away, and is met with my camerapersons*
Watch Neil Gaiman give you hope and shatter it again repeatedly, in a show where the literal apocalypse is only the background to a forbidden idiots who are lovers-to-lovers who are idiots story that is older than Time itself. Armageddon takes a backseat as Crowley serves gender, and if you thought the Antichrist was adorable, wait till you see him in Good Omens, where his evil powers are directed towards being the cutest kid he can possibly be.
*cut back to white screen, I smile ominously while twirling a human bone*
Good Omens, at your nearest Amazon Prime, with free UST, fluff, Queen, and plenty of tears. Don't miss it!
*text rapidly rolls across screen*
[Imagery has been used for representative purposes. No David Tennant, Michael Sheen or Neil Gaiman was harmed in the process of creating this advertisement. Good Omens will have expected side-effects, including unprompted sobbing, a Pavlovian reaction to bandstands, nightingales, holy water and 'the final fifteen', heartache for the foreseeable future, and intense lust for Crowley's elusive gender. Asmi is not responsible for any consequences resulting from the advertised product. Some features have been excluded from the advertisement due to space and time constraints.]
595 notes · View notes
miguel-owhora · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
SYNOPSIS — a spider turned into a mutt, a feral beast sticking to the shadows, only ever coming out to get a taste of blood and to feel the gentle hand of his master petting his head.
TYPE — drabble
WARNINGS — 18+ , trans!miguel , reader is implied to be a hybrid of sorts , implied violence , implied bloodshed , borderline villain!miguel , dacryphilia , cunnilingus , overstimulation , implied multiple orgasms , cliffhanger
MORE — based off a cai bot i wrote + an old bot i wrote a long time ago and i think is long lost by now lol. also inspired by that one post abt someone being submissive the way a guard dog is. anyways, have this piece of shit while i finish up the other draft i have.
FEM-ALIGNED READERS AND MINORS DNF, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.
COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE HEAVILY APPRECIATED.
TAGS — @sweetcorpse , @tophamhat-kyo , @villainousdelicacy , @realitylemon
Tumblr media
You've always liked the color red. Red cherries, red cars, red flowers, red soda cans, red shoes - red, red, red. You especially liked the darker shades of the warm color, of the first color of a color wheel, of the top dog color. A color that screamed danger, that moaned passion, that roared violence, and sobbed bloodshed. It was a color you were always fond of, especially when paired with other darker colors and items.
Blood, for instance, was your favorite shade of red. Well, the color of red that someone bled was your favorite. There was something so beautiful about it, something so organic, to know that color was inside of us all. It made you dizzy in the best way possible, and it made you excited whenever it spilled out of somebody's wounds.
You also liked the color on Miguel. He looked absolutely breathtaking in that spider suit of his, form-fitting and sensual, like something born from lust itself. How the color constricted around his limbs, like tempting serpents, dark red and whispering into your ear, how it looked on his lips, like smudged paint and juices of a red fruit. You could never take your eyes off him, pupil dilating at how the color red looked on him, how your hands looked on him, how the color you so loved look like a marking brand on the man you were infatuated with.
For all the brute that you were, you were not dumb. You were well aware of how Miguel would keep a special eye on you, how he would stalk you on your livefeed, how he would lick his lips at the sight of you bloody and bruised but strong and victorious, and how his scent would thicken with that of arousal. And it amused you know he would shift and turn away, how his jaw would tighten with embarrassment, trapped in false comfort that no one knew of his desires - and he was partially right. No one else had a nose as strong as yours - you weren't exactly Human, you were superior, and your heightened senses allowed you to pick up things not even the spider-people could.
Including the thick scent of a horny bitch.
Something was bound to snap, and it happened sooner than later. After a particularly vicious mission, you've been called back to Miguel's office. He took one sight of your towering, blood soaked figure and couldn't contain himself, lust overtaking logistics.
It's how Miguel found himself laying back on his desk. His legs were forcefully bent over his chest, pinned down by your grip, hands so large against his thick, muscular thighs. Best of all, your head was stuffed between his legs, hungrily slurping up all his pussy juice he had to offer.
Miguel lost track of how many he had cum already, reduced to trembling limbs and a tear tracked face, voice hoarse and breathless from all the moans and cries he was letting slip by without a second thought. His pussy was puffy and slick with cum and hus juice, hus cock throbbing and swollen from the times you've sucked the life out of it.
And you were only just beginning - Miguel had caught sight of the hard bulge in your pants, fuck, Miguel had wanted it in his mouth and in his cunt and in any other hole he had. But you had ignored him and simply dipped your head and began to eat him.
Miguel tried to wiggle, tried to pick up the pace to get to the prize he wanted. But all he was a low, rumbling growl that resonated from your chest, a guttural sound, and a firmer hold on his thighs as you mouth encased his pussy and made Miguel squeal.
No, you weren't planning on stopping anytime soon.
Tumblr media
all rights reserved © miguel-owhora
431 notes · View notes
this-insidious-dawn · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
This Insidious Dawn is a dark fantasy IF wherein you play as a vampire, employed under the clandestine League of the Third God to hunt down anything -- everything - that does not belong in this world. But you do not belong here either, Warden. Demo tba.
☼ SYNOPSIS
The League saved you. Rewrote your life- gave you a chance to be more than a bloodstarved vampyr. Or did they?
You remember nothing of your past before the League; nothing but blood and indescribable agony, nothing but the thrumming of your heart stilling- and then beginning again, stilted and wrong. That was over a decade ago, the memories now faint and the connection quivering. They've been replaced, overwritten by years of blades clashing, body aches, and hollow hunger.
You started out weak. Starving, skin-and-bones, desperate for any reprieve you could get your hands on. Now, you're strong, each hunt -- each cut - giving you just enough energy to keep your worn body going. Some people would call it cruel, to keep a sentient being on the edge of death. Most people, though, would say that you're a vampire, so you hardly count as sentient.
Regardless of the morality of it, the method was effective. You were one of -- no, the most - efficient Warden the League had to offer.
And then a hunt went wrong. And now you're dead. But- a vampire (no, not a vampire; a vampyr) can never truly die. So you're back. But is it really you?
☼ FEATURES
↠ Customize your Warden. Appearance, gender, pronouns, and personality are all up to your choices as the player.
↠ This is a psychological horror first and foremost. It will have themes of dehumanization and derealization, amongst others. CWs will be offered.
↠ A character-driven plot where your choices impact the story.
↠ A cast of four consisting of The Acolyte, The Commander, The Savior, and The Forgotten, any of which you can optionally romance no matter your Warden's gender.
☼ CAST
↠ THE ACOLYTE
As with any vampire, you are accompanied by an acolyte to keep you in check and ensure that your hunts go well- as well as to mend any Gorges that riftspawn might crawl out of. Constantine Nimecidus fills this role, in your case (ae/aer). Ae is sharp-tongued, with a chronic lack of patience towards the people and world around aer, and can come across as snappy or rude. In other instances still, aer sarcastic, dry, and often untimely humor can offer a quick relief from the tension of any situation- or make it several times worse. Despite aer casual, laidback nature in the face of most events, ae places utmost importance on aer job, and quickly becomes intense whenever ae feels as if ae or aer position are being in any way threatened. You've spent years going on hunts with aer at this point, but the connection has never transcended the necessary 'I save you, you save me' exchange. Ae seems wary of you.
Constantine is a bit shorter than most, standing at 5'3. Ae has broad shoulders and hips, and is thickset with both muscle and fat. Aer amber skin is dappled with symmetrical pale patches, especially prevalent around aer eyes and mouth, and the lack of pigmentation has bled into aer hair in some spots, giving the dark auburn eye-catching streaks of white. Said hair is curly and cut shorter along the sides than the back is, and ae spends an awful lot of time preening it. Aer eyes are a striking, slightly luminescent bronze, and aer pupils appear instead of black as molten gold, shifting slightly in color to match aer emotions at any given moment. Ae has full lips and slightly upturned, monolid eyes. Ae favors shades of brown, tan, and orange in aer outfit, and ae near-constantly dons a rich red capelet with fur trimming around the hood.
↠ THE COMMANDER
Ex-commander of the Serpent's Guard-turned vampire. You'd personally never had a run-in with Alvaros Vepir until just recently (he/him). He's gruff, jaded, and withdrawn- exactly what you'd expect out of the man who gave his life for his queen only to nearly die (again) for it. It's hard to say, though, how much of his time as the commander he truly remembers. Alvaros is a poet's dream, the hero in an epic-turned-tragedy. He keeps everybody at arm's length, never allowing them to learn more than what the stories and theatrics tell of him. This is especially true of you- the vampire who was sent to reign him in, turn him from a rogue vampyr into a soldier of the League. Despite his emotional avoidance of you, though, he seems quite interested in you. Maybe it's the fact you're one of the few to have bested him in combat. Maybe it's just that 'vampiric charm' that old legends tell about (but that never seems to work outside of fights). Maybe it's because he remembers you.
Alvaros is intimidating in every manner. He stands at 6'4, his whole body is lean and scarred, and the black sclerae encircling dark green irises certainly does him no favors in lessening the effect. Before you were dispatched to retrieve him, you couldn't have said what he looked like; as the commander, he'd worn the veil regular of high-ranking members of the Serpent's Ring, leaving nothing but the back of his head exposed. Now, you know of his face well enough that you could probably recognize him in a crowd. With fawn skin dotted by freckles, hooded eyes, and a distinctive hooked nose, Alvaros is exactly what one would expect of a native of southern Ghel- save for his hair. Instead of the expected brown or black, his hair is a muddy blonde, and it has slight waves that turn into full curls at the tips. He maintains it short, never reaching past his chin. His face is scarred (his everything is, really), with a particularly nasty gash reaching from his left eyebrow down to his right jaw. It just barely misses his right eye.
↠ THE SAVIOR
An acolyte? You think so, anyways. Suri Revlece is the woman who saved you (she/her). You don't know whether or not she's even with the League, but she certainly looks like an acolyte. You don't know what she was doing there, either, but she seems willing to answer any of your questions while you recover- as long as they aren't personal. She's kind enough, but seems a little...off. She's finicky, always looking over her shoulder. She's running from something, but she doesn't seem to know what. She appears to believe that she and you have some type of camaraderie, although you've never met. But there's something to be said for the sheer strength of her magic- you've never seen an acolyte's shimmer burn a riftspawn like that. Never seen one with an eye glowing that bright, either. She's an anomaly- one that you're sure the headman at your partner's spire would be more than glad to have amongst their ranks, but then the mere idea of it had her denying it with vehemence. It seems like she has a history with it.
Suri has a mesmerizing look to her. The deep brown of her skin, near-black of her hair, and dark garb are contrasted with bright pops of color. One eye is a brightly glowing orange, the pupil nearly white, and the other is a misty grey, its almond shape deformed by the burn scars warping the left side of her face. That dark hair, braided and reaching down to about her hips, is decorated by light brown and gold beads engraved with runes that seem to serve to channel her magic. Her frame is lanky and she's long-limbed, reaching just above what most would think of as an 'average height', at 5'8. Below a brown leather cloak, more runed jewelry decorates her wrists and fingers, and her hands are tattooed in shades of bronze. The burn upon her face is not the only such injury she has suffered; her palms are burnt the slightest bit, and similar scars wrap around her arms. She has a broad nose and thick heart-shaped lips, and light stubble sits above the top lip.
↠ THE FORGOTTEN
You don't know who they are anymore. Who are they? (he/they/she)
A shadowy form, the silhouette of a memory. There's something not quite right about them. What have they become?
☼ LINKS
Demo - tba
Other blogs - @azraels-bad-choices (main IF blog) and @a-firsthand-murder-ballad (other project)
421 notes · View notes
bimobuddy · 2 months
Text
Just Like (Really) Old Times
SFW Hazbin Tickle Fic
Lee!Adam, Ler!Lucifer
Sinner!Adam
Spoilers and Swearing
AdamsApple if you squint just a little
Summary: Adam moved into the Hotel and that means living with the very people he tried to Exterminate, and with the very man he's hated for so long. However when Lucifer brings back some 'old memories,' he starts to warm up to the idea of living there.
It had definitely been a shock for... everyone.
The day someone knocked at the Hotel doors, and when Charlie opened them, she was met with someone.. familiar.
There stood Adam, now with grayer skin, red eyes, leathery wings, and horns. As he opened his mouth to speak, it was revealed that he even had fangs now.
"Uh... hi..."
He had expected for the doors to be slammed in his face, for Charlie to tell him to get lost, hell, he even expected to be killed again.
But as Charlie looked up at him for a moment, she stepped aside, and opened the door wider.
"Checking in? We have room."
♡♡♡
Weeks had gone by, and everyone was tense. How couldn't they be? The crew had to live within close proximity of the man who's been leading exterminations for years to kill them. And Adam was living within close proximity of the people he's been exterminating for years.. it was awkward as shit.
And for the first time, he felt like he didn't belong somewhere. He felt as though he had invited himself into someone else's house and was overstaying his welcome- But he had nowhere else to go.
He didn't even know what to do with himself. He had become the very creature he had sworn to destroy. The very pest he had been exterminating. His beautiful golden feathers were gone, his halo was gone.. Everything about himself, to him at least, was gone.
Lucifer leaned against the wall, arms crossed, as he watched Adam from across the room. The First Man was on the couch, looking down his his clawed hands that looked so unfamiliar to him. It reminded the king of when he had first met Adam, back when the man had been created. And back before he had fallen.
-
Adam looked down at his hands in awe. He turned them over, amazed before looking down at the rest of himself. He had been alive for about a month at this point, but he couldn't get over the fact that he was alive and existing. He loved it. He loved being able to see the world around him, being able to hear birds, the wind in the leaves, even his own voice. Especially his own voice. He had spent quite a while just sitting and speaking to himself, even just making random noises, stretching his words out, making the tone go up and down. One of the angels sent to check on him told him it was called 'singing.' He liked singing.
As Adam sat there, just making random noises to himself, he hadn't noticed a familiar white serpent approach him. Not until it chuckled at the noises he was making, startling him. Lucifer transformed back into his normal form. "Sorry for scaring you. I see you've discovered singing." He mused, sitting next to him.
Adam nodded, grinning. "It's fun, I really like it. I think it sounds nice... Um- ... I'm sorry, which one are you?" Lucifer tilted his head and laughed lightly. "Lucifer. I usually stay as a snake when I enter the garden?" The man perked up. "Oh yeah! The white one! I'm Adam!"
Lucifer couldn't help but grin at the human's enthusiasm. He adored it to be honest. "Trust me, we all know who you are. How are you enjoying life so far?" "Oh, I really like it! I like learning new things about myself. So far I've learned that I like sweet things, like fruit, and soft things like those other horse things- with the.. branches.. on their heads?" "Deer?" "Yeah, deer, I like those."
The angel smiled along with Adam, just as excited as he was about his discoveries. "You wanna know what else is soft? Here, I think you'll like it." He extended one of his wings out for Adam to feel, accidentally brushing it against his side. The human jumped and covered his side, a surprised grin spreading across his face followed by a sweet sounding giggle.
Lucifer gasped and scooted closer. "You're ticklish! I didn't know we were giving that to humans! Oh this is great, you're going to have so much fun-" "What's.. What's ticklish?"
The angel grinned, excitedly. "Lift your arms a little bit, I'll show you." Adam did as he was told, lifting his arms up. Again, Lucifer extended his wings, gently brushing them against Adam's sides. The human snorted and slammed his arms down, laughing. Lucifer pulled his wings back to avoid having them stuck under Adam's arms, instead reaching out and gently digging into the sides of his tummy.
Adam shrieked and threw his head back, laughing. Not wanting to overwhelm him, Lucifer slowed to a stop, and pulled his hands back. After a moment of giggling and catching his breath, the human looked back up at the angel, sitting up and smiling.
"Can you do that again?"
-
Adam looked up at Lucifer. "The fuck are you staring at, loser?" Lucifer raised a brow. "I'm sorry, who lost?" He asked, leaning on his cane. Adam flinched a little and looked away, back down at his hands. They were clawed, darker at the hands than the rest of his arm.
The couch dipped down, causing Adam to look back up at the angel next to him. The angel he was so familiar with. The angel he had once been friends with. Lucifer smiled. "Actually I was just remembering some things.. Back when you were still alive. Like how you told me you liked sweet things. Do you still? It's been a couple years since then."
Adam snorted. "Yeah, just a couple thousand.. Yes, I do still like sweet foods." The king chuckled. "And I remembered you telling me about the 'horse things with branches on their heads.-'" "Oh fuhuck off, I didn't know what deer were."
"But one more thing I remembered," Lucifer skittered up his side, "Was when we discovered you were ticklish." Adam jolted upright, batting his hand away. "Fuhuck off- Don't-" "I specifically remembered you asking me to do it again. Do you remember that?" He asked, abandoning his cane to gently scribble up both of his sides.
Adam immediately burst into giggles, slamming his arms down. "Fuck! fuhuhuhuck you fuhuck off noho I dihidn't!" Lucifer chuckled and tweaked his sides, gently squishing the pudge between his claws, causing Adam to shriek and curl up. "Yes the fuck you did, you liar," he laughed along with him, "That wasn't the only time either, buddy. It seemed any chance you got, you were asking me to tickle you."
Adam was blushing, and blushing hard. He grabbed ahold of Lucifer's wrists, but couldn't really push him away as he was giggling so hard. The king continued, "You loved it so much you introduced Eve to it, I remember that," He gently kneaded into Adam's ribs, earning some squeals, "You're not as sneaky as you think you are, Buddy."
Lucifer raked his fingers down Adam's ribs, and gently skittered across his belly. The sinner tried to curl up and bat his hands away, letting out a snort. "Dohohont- Shuhuhut the fuHUCK uhuhup!" "Oh, don't shut the fuck up? Alrighty~!" The teasing got to Adam. He gave up fighting back and just covered his face.
"I know during our fight I said you 'let yourself go,' but you know what, I think this is better," he started to scritch at his tummy, "Now I have more tickle room." Adam's face turned an even darker shade of red at this, growing more and more flustered.
"Fuck- st- nohohoho!" "See? Even now you're still stopping yourself from saying 'stop.'" Adam started to bat at him again, grabbing for his wrists, "SHUHUT THE FUHUCK UHUHUP!"
Lucifer pulled his hands back, grinning as he watched Adam just go completely limp, his giggles mixing with his panting. "Question for you Addy," "Don't you ever fucking call me that again." "When you were an angel, were your wings ticklish?"
Adam's black and red eyes snapped open. Instinctively, his wings folded over his body, as if he were cocooning himself. "Don't you fucking dare, Lucy."
Lucifer stopped.
"You called me Lucy." Adam paused a little, too. "Yeah.." Lucifer smiled a little. "You haven't called me that since Eden." The sinner looked away momentarily. "I guess.. All this sort of just.. reminded me of the Garden," He looked back down at his claws, "Things were.. so much simpler back then."
Sensing his discomfort with his new body, Lucifer took one of Adam's hands in his own. "You don't look bad, y'know. I know it's different, scary even, but it's not bad." He turned Adam's hand over so it was resting palm-up. He softly traced it, watching as the other's claws twitched from the soft ticklish feeling. "It'll take some time, Adam, but you'll get used to it. Comfortable, even-" "That's what I'm worried about.." Adam looked down at him, being a full two feet taller. He sighed and pulled his hand back.
They sat in silence for a bit before Lucifer broke it. "You know, Charlie is thrilled that you're here." Adam scoffed, "After I destroyed the place and nearly killed you guys?"
"She's happy that you chose to be here. You made the decision to check into a Hotel meant for redemption. That means somewhere deep down, you at the very least have hope. And that's a good start."
Adam huffed. "What if it's not possible..?" The king looked up at him. "Then I guess you're stuck here with us." He offered a smile.
The sinner couldn't help but smile back. As much as he would have loathed the though even just a week ago, it didn't seem so bad now. Lucifer seemed to want to be his friend again, and Charlie was a sweet kid who truly seemed to believe in him.
Back in Heaven, he had a lot of power, sure. He was The Man. He always got what he wanted, whether it was power, bent rules, or sex. But here? He was seen as an equal, as someone who was flawed, someone who had been human. And he was surprisingly okay with that.
His soft smile, turned to a smirk. "I remember something, too." Lucifer tilted his head, curiously. Adam continued, "I remember the first time I retaliated, and found out your wings were ticklish as fuck." "Shit- you back the fuck off-" Lucifer hopped up and took off running.
Adam unfolded his wings, which seemed to be stronger than they once were, and with a powerful flap, immediately caught up to him.
Who knew the King of Hell hiccuped when he laughed?
178 notes · View notes