#but I wasn’t sure if there was a specific symbol for that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

evanpeterswhoresblog · 3 months

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Innocence

Remus Lupin x f!reader

warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), fingering, slight hand job, virgin reader, purity ring 😮‍💨, making out, underage smoking, mention of underage drinking, slight innocence/ corruption kink, lmk if i missed any!

summary: remus learns the ring you wear everyday is called a purity ring, and he develops a strange obsession with it… and wanting to take it off you…

word count: 4.6k

a/n: guys.. dw there’s gonna b a part two but like omgggggg this made me feel so many things i’m in love with this. lmk what you think :) also i’m not religious so if any of this is not accurate i’m sorry lol it’s for the plot

part two is posted!!! here

~~~

Ever since he knew you, Remus noticed that one thing you always wore. It was plain, a simple gold band on your left ring finger, the marriage finger. Typically, such nonsense wouldn’t cross his mind twice, but you wore that ring damn ring every day. Since the first time he ever saw you, that ring was on your finger. He never saw you without it. So, his curiosity got the better of him.

Why would such a simple ring be so important that you never took it off? It couldn’t have been because you were married. No. You wore it even at the young age of eleven. Could it have been a family heirloom? That idea was plausible, however to him, it didn’t feel like the correct answer. And Remus Lupin always needed the correct answer.

So, he eventually decided to ask you.

During dinner one night, when you just so happened to be sitting next to him, his eyes caught sight of the ring and he eyed it suspiciously. You noticed this.

“Something wrong Rem?” You asked.

He looked up from the ring on your delicate finger to meet your confused eyes. “Why do you always wear that specific ring? And always on that finger? Is it special?”

“Oh.” You laughed for a few seconds. “Yeah, it’s stupid really, an old muggle tradition.” You composed yourself and looked up at him, a slight red tint to your cheeks. “It’s called a purity ring. Basically, I wear it as a reminder that I pledged to wait till marriage.”

Remus was confused, and he hated being confused. “Why would anyone wait till marriage?”

You shrugged. “Muggle religion is quite weird. They value keeping teenagers pure until they’re married. I think it’s stupid, but I still wear it.”

“So, you’ve done it but continue wearing it as a... symbol?” He questioned.

“Oh no, I haven’t done it. I might find it stupid, but I still plan to keep my promise. It’s sort of a nice accomplishment don’t you think? I’ve gone through two years of everyone shagging around me and I haven’t given in,” you answered.

He stared at you for a few seconds. You were still a virgin, and that ring was the reason. He thought for a moment. How could you be a virgin? He swore he had seen you go off with a bloke from Ravenclaw a few months ago during a party. But then as his eyes trailed over your small figure, he realized the idea wasn’t completely impossible. He’d never seen you with hickeys, he’d never seen you dress improperly, and he surely had never seen you enter the common room after a long night with someone. For some reason, it made a strange feeling bloom deep inside him.

“Surely you’ve at least done other stuff, right?”

You simply shook your head and took a bite from your sandwich. “Furthest I’ve ever gone is having some Ravenclaws tongue down my throat.”

Ah, so he was right about that.

“Besides, I don’t really even know much about any of that stuff. I mean I know biology, but that’s about it. And of course, what Marls and Mary tell me from their extravagant experiences,” you added after swallowing.

So that meant...

“You haven’t done anything?” He was surprised, it was clear in his tone.

“No need to sound so flabbergasted. Besides, why do you even care about what I’ve done? I always thought you were the modest type too,” you replied with an eye roll.

Remus looked away from you, and the urge to smirk took him over. He thought back to those countless nights over the summer breaks he’d spent with muggle girls. The feelings, the sounds, the tastes, all experiences he’d never forget. But by no means was Remus Lupin a player, oh no. He was nothing like his mate. However, he also wasn’t a saint like everyone painted him out to be.

“I may be modest but that doesn’t mean I’m a virgin,” he said after a moment, his eyes finally turned back to you. He liked the way you looked at him. “That went away a few summers ago.”

You smiled, though something about it was off, almost as if it were forced. “Well, cheers to that.”

“Cheers.” He nodded in agreement.

You turned back to the group conversation before he could say anything else.

~~~

Remus had thought after finding out what the ring's importance was, he would let it go and move on. Unfortunately, he had thought wrong. Ever since that conversation with you, he couldn’t get any of it off his mind. When he’d see you, he’d always look at your left hand, almost making sure that ring was still there. It always was. And for some reason it made him feel almost relieved. He needed more answers.

Thankfully, another opportunity came not too long after the first.

The two of you had been paired together in potions. Typically, he would be a bit upset with the fact given you were never the best in the subject. But for the first time, he was pleased with the pairing.

He watched as you cut up some of the ingredients, that stupid ring shining from the lights. Questions filled his head. Where had you gotten it? When did you get it? Who gave it to you? Did your parents know what it meant? What were you supposed to do with it when the time finally came? He needed to get the answers.

“So, when did you get it?” He casually asked his eyes on the cauldron.

“Get what?”

“The ring.”

You chuckled. “You’re still on about that? I suppose you aren’t too accustomed to muggle things. I got it right before I came here actually. My parents wanted to give me a reminder about life at home, and they wanted to make sure I knew where my ‘loyalties’ lay. Though, I was only a little girl. Did they expect anything to happen at that young?”

Three questions were answered. Good.

Remus dropped his chopped ingredients into the cauldron. “Does that mean you give it back to them when you finally do it?”

“Oh no. I give it to my husband of course,” you replied. “Do these look alright?”

He finally turned his head in your direction and looked over your cutting board then he met your eyes. “Perfect. You can put them in.”

“You don’t know how good that makes me feel to hear. Master of potions Remus Lupin says I’m perfect, I could faint,” you said as you scrapped your work into the cauldron, a hint of laughter in your voice.

He rolled his eyes. “I said your cutting was perfect, but if it makes you feel good, I suppose you are too.”

You looked up at him with a glint in your eyes that made an odd feeling form in his chest. You looked so damn innocent. How had he not noticed it before? You had always been one of the shyer members of Gryffindor, but he always brushed it off as nothing important. He never would’ve guessed just how innocent you were.

“How sweet of you.” You giggled.

“ ’Course, anytime love.”

He noticed the shift in your body at his words. How odd. You looked away from him for a few seconds, that familiar rose tint returning to your cheeks. Did you always do that? Did such simple words always make you blush and turn away? Or was it just him? He watched you bite down on your lip and fiddle with your ring.

You were teasing him.

It was then he decided he was going to get that ring from you.

And you were going to love it.

~~~

Getting you to that point was going to take some time, Remus knew that. But it didn’t stop him. He started simply. When the two of you were hanging out in the group, he made sure to at least say a few words to you alone. When eating meals, he made sure to get a spot next to you. Most importantly though, he started making sure to leave subtle hints. Lingering eye contact, small touches that weren’t necessary, comments that made your face turn red. He could tell all of it made you flustered, and he loved it.

During all of it, his obsession with your innocence only grew. He wanted to take it away. He wanted to taint you, to make you not so pure anymore. He didn’t understand the feeling, he never cared much for such stereotypical nonsense. But each time you looked at him with those curious, innocent eyes, it only made his patience strained.

The first breakthrough came during one of Sirius and James’s parties. The common room blared with music, and people laughed and danced. You were among them. Remus leaned against the wall next to the staircase to the boy's dorm, a cigarette between his lips as he watched you dance with Mary and Lily. Your smile was bright, your body moved to the rhythm almost perfectly. You wore a pretty little dress. But he couldn’t focus on any of that because that damn ring caught his attention.

It had become quite a distraction. He found himself staring at it far more than normal. During class and dinner, it consumed most of his thoughts. He needed to get it off your finger before it caused his grades to slip.

From across the room, your eyes suddenly found his. You gave him a questioning look; he only smirked back and released a cloud of smoke into the air. He watched you say something to the girls before you began to walk in his direction. Perfect.

“Why do you always stand on the sidelines?” You asked once you were close enough. “And if you’re going to stare at me all night you might as well just dance with me.”

He chuckled and took another drag from the cigarette. “I’m not the biggest fan of these parties and I definitely don’t dance.” He offered you the cigarette, and you shook your head and pointed to your ring. “Come on, that applies to cigs too?”

“And alcohol, pretty much whatever is considered sinful. Though, I have indulged in a drink or two. Mommy and Daddy don’t need to know about that,” you answered.

Merlin, he needed to do something with you. It was almost unbearable.

“You’re saying alcohol and cigs are sinful but intense snogging isn’t? Seems a bit hypocritical to me,” he eventually said.

You smiled and shrugged. “That’s muggle religion for you. It’s pretty much up to each person's interpretation and what they value. I value being sober more than refraining from a snog occasionally.”

“But a shag...”

“That’s universally seen as a big sin. Most of us would agree not to do it until marriage.”

He released another breath of smoke. “Most of you?”

“Well, not everyone agrees of course. Like I said, it’s technically up to everyone’s values. Murder is also considered a sin, you know. But even some people commit that,” you explained. He watched you blush. “I don’t think I should compare virginity to murder though.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s a fair comparison,” he replied, his lips turned up into a smile.

You turned even more red. “Sorry. But you get what I’m saying, right?”

“Everything is optional is what you’re saying.” He let his eyes trail over your body, making sure you noticed. “So really, you could fuck someone before marriage.”

“I mean yeah, I could, but I don’t think I will,” you said. You began to fiddle with the ring again. “It’s sort of always been with me it would feel weird giving it to someone else.”

“Do you have to give it away for anything? Or just actual sex?” It was another question he’d been dying to know. He watched you think for a moment.

“I think just the full thing. I don’t know. I don’t even really know that much about it like I said when you first asked me. I mean, I know people use their hands and mouths but... sorry. I shouldn't be talking about such things.” You put your face in your hands, Remus couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sorry.”

He needed to do something. Now.

“Don’t be sorry love, it’s alright. You know you can trust me; I wouldn’t dare tell anyone about your sinful thoughts,” he spoke. He turned and dropped his cigarette into one of the many ashtrays in the common room. When he looked back at you, you were already looking at him. “But you know if you ever wanted to indulge in something like that, you can come to me.”

You were beyond flustered, and it showed. “Oh! That’s very um... generous of you, but I don’t think I’ll do any of that I mean... I don’t plan on it.”

He casually shrugged. “We all get a bit curious at some point in our lives.”

For a moment the two of you only stared at each other. He could tell exactly what you were thinking. You were curious. You wanted to try things. He observed you carefully. He could sense the conflict within you. Value versus desire. It was a tough battle, but you didn’t cave. At least, not yet.

“Perhaps, but I made a promise and I need to stick to it,” you said. You looked over your shoulder at your clearly intoxicated friends. “I should get back to Lily and Mary.”

“Right, it was nice talking,” he replied with a smile.

You nodded. “I’ll see you later.”

“Till then love.”

Even as you walked away and joined your friends once again, he could see the way his words affected you. You could deny the feelings all you wanted, but your body craved the unknown. It was only a matter of time till you caved, and Remus would wait.

He was never one to give up easily.

~~~

You came to him faster than he expected. He understood why though, you were on edge about all of it. In the few days it took for you to go to him, he noticed how different you acted. You were more tense, you fiddled with your ring far more than normal. He imagined the inner conflict you faced was stressful, but he was glad about the turnout of it.

After dinner, as he was walking to the library for a study group, you found him. He was a bit surprised at your approach, but nevertheless, he welcomed it with joy.

“Hey Remus, could I talk to you for a second?” You asked.

You were a bit behind him, but he stopped instantly and turned to face you.

“Yeah, what’s going on?”

Your little bit of confidence quickly vanished. You avoided his gaze, focusing suddenly on your shoes. “Um, are you busy? It’s not really that important so if you have something else to do it can wait.”

He fought the urge to smirk. “I was just going to Lily’s little study group, but it can wait. Is something wrong?”

You shook your head and looked up at him, those big innocent eyes staring into his. “No uh... nothing's wrong. It’s just about... well... you know.”

“About what?”

“You know...”

“I don’t think I do love, you’re gonna have to use your words and tell me.”

He felt bad for teasing you, but it was too fun not to. The way your cute little eyes looked around the hallway to make sure no one else was around, the way you fidgeted, it was far too entertaining to stop. A moment passed before you finally spoke in a much softer tone than before.

“It’s about what we talked about at the party last weekend.”

“Oh?” He questioned. “What about it?”

He watched as you slid the ring up and down your finger. “You said um if I ever wanted to you know, indulge, that I could come to you.”

“Yes, I did say that.”

“So... um yeah,” you said. You looked almost uncomfortable. He knew he needed to be nicer.

“Are you asking if that offer is still there?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes! I mean, um, is it?”

He glanced around to make sure nobody else was around before stepping closer to you. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your mouth parted ever so slightly. He touched his fingers to your chin, lifting your head gently.

“How about you come find out?”

You didn’t fight it. He was glad.

Not too long after that, Remus found himself in a position he’d desperately wanted for almost a month. You were laid out on his bed, open like a flower, and he was on top of you. Your robe, shirt, and tie were thrown to the floor. He kissed you hard, the reward of your gasps kept him going. He let one of his hands travel up your soft thigh, you were so warm, so inviting. It took all his self-control to keep him from moving too fast.

Before it began, you told him you had only ever snogged. That meant no boy had ever touched you. Not with a hand, not with his tongue, nothing. No one had ever even felt up your breasts. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t pleased with the information. He wanted you to be his, he wanted to be as many of your firsts as he could be.

“Can I touch you?” He eventually whispered on your skin; his lips were by your ear.

“Yes, please,” you replied, your breath ragged.

He continued to press soft kisses to your neck as his hand moved between your thighs. You were wet, very wet. He could feel it through your panties. It made him even harder than he already was. He slid his hand under your panties and began to rub soft circles on your clit, you gasped and lifted your hips in response.

You were perfect.

With every flick of his fingers, you let out little whimpers and moans, and one of your hands gripped his shoulder hard. He caught a few glances of your face between kisses. Your cheeks were red, your eyes squeezed shut. You were beyond beautiful.

After a few minutes, he moved his fingers down to your entrance. He made sure to collect your wetness and ask if it was alright before he began to slowly push one of his fingers inside you.

“Remus,” you mumbled as he started thrusting his finger in and out of you at a slow pace. “Fuck.”

“Does it hurt? Do you want me to stop?” He asked.

You lightly shook your head. “It feels so good, do not stop.”

“Do you want another one?”

“Yes.”

He complied instantly and added a second finger. You responded just the way he wanted. In only a few more minutes he was fucking you with his fingers, touching that spot inside that made your thighs clench around him. He kissed you hard, he loved how you struggled to kiss him back. When he also began to press his thumb to your clit, you became a mess.

“Fuck Rem, I-” You paused, your nails dug into his shoulder.

“You’re close.” It was a statement; he could feel your walls clenching around his fingers. He knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

“I am,” you practically whimpered.

“Let go, love, it’s alright.”

Only seconds later you did. You came hard. Your back arched off the mattress, your mouth hung open wide, and your thighs tightened around his hips. Remus had never felt anything as good as the feeling of your walls pulsating around his fingers as you came undone beneath him. He made sure to keep going till you were fully done. At that point, he pulled his hand out of your panties and up to his lips. He knew you were going to taste good.

You sat up, breathless. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I just- you just- we just... I’m going to hell.”

“Relax, it’ll be fine. People do this all the time and nothing bad happens, I promise it’s just a normal thing,” he said. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, he thought you looked so beautiful. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried about being judged or anything, I’m worried because I don’t feel guilty. I should feel guilty for it but I just... don’t. In fact, I think I...” You looked down at your hand, specifically the ring. “I think I want more.”

Remus couldn’t help the smirk that formed on his lips. “More?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s only right that I return the favor.” He watched your eyes move to his pants; your cheeks turned red. “You’ll have to show me how though.”

“Alright, only if, you’re sure. Don’t feel like you have to because I did something for you,” he replied though he really did want you to touch him. But he could wait if he had to.

“I want to.”

He didn’t question you further. Instead, he guided you through the process of getting him off with your hand. You were a fast learner, though the act itself wasn’t that hard to get the hang of. He found it funny the way you gasped at the size of him. Merlin, you were so innocent. Either way, you made him feel extraordinary. Your hand was much softer than his, and warmer too. You touched him gently, almost teasingly. But that changed fast.

“Can I try something else?” You asked, your hand stopped.

He almost groaned from the lack of motion. “What?”

“Um, can I try using my um...” You pointed to your lips.

“Your mouth?”

“Yeah.”

How could he ever refuse?

It was sloppy, it was rushed, but it was everything he could’ve wanted. As he laid back on the pillows, one of his hands moved through your soft hair. He didn’t dare push you. No. He only stroked your hair gently and whispered praises. He knew you liked it from the way you hummed on his cock each time he told you how good you were doing or how good you made him feel. And when you looked up at him with those eyes, those damn innocent eyes, he could barely contain himself.

He was shocked you even did it to begin with, but he was even more shocked when you let him finish in your mouth. You had him halfway down your throat when he came, and you didn’t pull away for a second. You swallowed it all. Somehow, he became even more attracted to you than he had been before.

“Was it good?” You questioned after you pulled back. You were kneeling beside his legs, a nervous expression on your face.

He smiled. “You were amazing. Are you sure you haven’t done that before?”

“Never even saw one in real life before this,” you replied with a laugh.

“That’s hard to believe,” he said. He sat up and pressed a kiss to your lips before pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. “Do you want to try one more thing?”

“Depends on what thing.”

“I’ll do what you just did to me but on you,” he answered, loving the way your eyes widened at his words. Despite everything that happened already, you were still so innocent. He adored it.

“Oh yeah okay,” you spoke after a moment.

He kissed you again. “Lay down.”

You did as he said and soon it began.

He started by kissing your lips while his hands pulled your skirt and panties off, leaving you only in a bra. Once those were off, he kissed down your neck, and your chest, only pausing for a second to unclip your bra and take one of your nipples in his mouth. You moaned, he stayed there for a few extra seconds. He then moved his mouth further down your body, relishing the sounds you made each time his lips made contact with your skin.

When he started to kiss up one of your thighs, you twitched. You were so sensitive, so untouched. He was obsessed with it. Every few kisses he sucked your skin to leave dark purple hickeys. He had made sure not to leave any on your skin that would be visible to the world so that no one would see the evidence of your sinful acts. But the skin that would be covered by clothing, that was his to mark.

A few minutes of this went by, and it was all on purpose. Remus could tell how eager you were for him to get on with it, but you were far too shy to tell him to do so. So, he didn’t dare touch you where you so desperately wanted him to. He wanted to hear you ask. But you said nothing, so he decided you needed a little push. He gave you one single lick then returned to your black and blue thighs.

“Remus,” you whispered. “Please.”

He looked up at you and almost felt bad. Your desperate eyes were already looking at him, he could tell how much you needed it. He didn’t wait any longer and gave you what you needed; you certainly earned it.

In all his experience with sex and everything surrounding it, Remus enjoyed pleasing his partner as anyone did. He didn’t mind going down on women, in fact, he sort of enjoyed it. At least until you. With you, he quickly realized having his head between your thighs and his tongue on your clit was not just alright, it was heavenly. He never enjoyed the taste of a girl like he enjoyed yours. You were sweet and the sounds you made as he played with you were their own type of reward.

So, it was no surprise how quickly you came undone on his tongue. He devoured you like he had been starving his whole life. Truthfully, he felt as if he had. You were spectacular. You were perfection. You were his. He was crazy about you.

After you finished, he wiped his mouth on one of your thighs before moving to lie on the bed next to you. He laid on his side facing you, his eyes examining your face. Your eyes were closed, and your cheeks were pink. Your hair was messy, and your lips were ever so slightly lifted into a smile. He swore he never saw anyone as beautiful in his life.

“I feel stupid,” you mumbled.

“Why?”

You opened your eyes and looked at him, your smile then undeniable. “I should’ve taken you up on your offer sooner. Now I understand why everyone’s so mad about this stuff, it’s unbelievable.”

“You don’t regret it then?” He asked.

“How could I? You’re just... Remus I...” You turned to your side to face him fully, one of your hands pressed against his chest. “I think we should do this again if you’d want to of course.”

He grinned and let a hand fall to your waist, he pulled you closer, so your bodies touched. He rested his chin on the top of your head, and you buried your face in his neck. For a moment he felt almost victorious, he had gotten you right where he wanted you to be. It would only be a matter of time before you let him take you fully. But then he realized, it wasn’t about taking your virginity so much anymore. He just wanted you.

“I wouldn’t want anything more,” he eventually said, then he pressed a kiss to your forehead, while the cold feeling of your ring on his chest lingered in the back of his mind.

Soon, it would be his. And so would you.

947 notes · View notes

sunshowerwriting · 10 months

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Pact Marks

(Obey Me!) Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor x Gender Neutral Reader (Separate)

2.4 k Words

Where the pack marks are and how the brothers react to seeing them.

I am very behind in obey me and i still dont know if im gonna get back into the game but i <3 the boys so even if im way behind im gonna keep writing for them. also i know this has been done a million times but i wanted to write one too so :3

Lucifer;

His pact mark showed up right below your collarbone on the right side of your body. It was in a private enough place that it wasn’t noticeable 90% of the time, but if you ever wore anything low cut or were ever shirtless then there was no way of hiding it.

He had no intention of seeing it at first. He felt no need, it was just a silly pack mark there was no need for him to search it out. And he certainly didn't think he'd feel as drawn to it as he did when he finally saw it.

When he did finally see it he was enthralled. He was so mesmerized by the little symbol that he had to stop you from doing whatever you were doing so he could just stare at it. (And maybe touch it if you would let him.)

It was a hot day in the devildom. Hotter than it had been in a very long time and there was no way you were going to let yourself get heat stroke while you were here. So you chose to wear a tanktop that had as little fabric on your body as possible. You hadn't even thought that your pack marks would be on display; you simply wanted some relief from the sweltering heat. However, your housemates did not let you by that easily. Or specifically one house mate, one that you least expect.

You were just leaving your room for something to drink but before you could get the sweet liquid your body desired Lucifer stopped you.

“Y/n, face me.”

You knew better than to decline a request like that so you turned around hoping to get whatever this was finished with as soon as possible. But what you weren’t prepared for was Lucifer just staring at you.

It made you a little self-conscious at first. But the self-conscious feeling quickly turns into amusement when you realize what he was staring at.

“Your pact mark.” You said teasingly.

His eyes didn't move from your chest. So you offered your next question with caution.

“Do you wanna touch it?”

Mammon;

His pact mark showed up on your left side right on your ribs. There was no way anyone was seeing this unless they caught you changing or you offered to show it to them. Which was bad for Mammon.

He wanted to know where it was immediately. But he wasn’t just gonna admit that to you. So he took it upon himself to pay extra close attention to any bit of exposed skin you had. Every time your shirt rode up or you took off your shoes he was examining your exposed skin with a magnifying glass.

When he finally gave in and asked you (albeit in a very roundabout way) to show him you were more than happy to do so. He was a little thrown off at you showing so much skin to him but after the shock he was really surprised by the pack mark. It's almost like he didn’t believe that it was his pack mark.

“Sure I’ll show you.” Your words were nonchalant if not a little amused at Mammon's question.

You immediately moved to lift your shirt. It may have been better if you had just taken it off but either way lifting it certainly did the job. And there on full display was Mammons pact mark. Mammon had averted his eyes briefly when you started lifting your shirt but when you made an impatient noise he looked back at you reluctantly.

His eyes immediately met with his pact mark sitting on your ribcage. The little symbol fit perfectly there and he seemed to be in a state of disbelief. His eyes were wider than normal and his jaw hung slack.

“Why are you making that face?”

Your words shook him out of his little trance and his eyes shot up to your face.

“I’m not makin a face!” He said, placing his hands on his hips.

You rolled your eyes at him but didn't say anything else on the matter. His eyes went back to the pack mark while you slowly put your shirt back down, covering the little mark.

Mammon would definitely need to see that again at a later date.

Leviathan;

His mark showed up on the outside of your right thigh. It was an odd place in your opinion, but the more you thought about it the more you realized just how perfect it was for the avatar of envy.

Levi hadn’t thought about it initially. In his mind he knew you had a pack mark now but it hadn't crossed his mind that you'd ever want to show it to him. But as time went on he did get a little curious. Not enough to ask you about it but enough to start theorizing about where it might be.

Eventually you brought it up. Asked if he wanted to see it and with some coaxing you convinced him to let you show it to him. He was… embarrassed to say the least.

When you started unbuttoning your pants Levi started to freak out. You assumed this would happen so you tried not to pay it too much attention. Simply muttering a “calm down” and continuing your action of trying to show him the mark. Once you had pulled your pants down and turned your body to show the little mark Levi had taken it upon himself to cover his eyes with his hands.

“Levi come on, You're not gonna see anything.”

He mumbled something incoherent but with a bit more prying you got him to look at you. And as soon as his eyes made contact with his pact mark his face went a whole new shade of red.

“It's there!” He practically shouted while trying to avert his eyes again.

But now that he knew where the mark was he was having trouble keeping his eyes off of it. That seemed to be the way it was with most of the brothers and their pack marks, it was like they were drawn to them. Levi was certainly trying to fight that feeling however.

You laughed at the demon, and started to reach to put your pants back on. You thought you were sparing him the embarrassment or at least some of it but much to your surprise Levi stopped you before you could cover up again.

“Wait! Can you… can you let me look at it a little longer?”

Satan;

Satan's mark appeared on the inside of your wrist on your dominant hand. It was one of the most obvious places any of your pack marks had been thus far and truthfully that shouldn’t come as much of a shock.

He saw it right away. He tried to play it cool. He wasn't even that attached to you so why would he go crazy over a little pack mark. But if you paid close enough attention to him his eyes would linger on your wrist every chance he would get.

But when he actually gave in and took a moment to REALLY look at it he didn't even bother asking.

You found yourself situated comfortably in the library. Cozied up reading and enjoying your moment of peace. You were bound to get interrupted eventually but who interrupted you came as a bit of a shock.

“Y/n.”

Satan came to sit next to you on the sofa with the simple greeting and you put down what you were reading for a moment to see what he was going to do. He glanced at you for a moment before gesturing to a table on the other side of you.

“Would you hand me that book?” He asked.

You did as you were asked and handed him the little book that was sitting on the other side of you. When turning to hand it to him though you were stopped in your tracks when he grabbed your wrist and not the book.

“What are you—“

Your words died in your throat when you realized what he was doing. Satan's eyes were boring holes into your wrist, right where your pact mark was placed. His eyes tracing every curve and line of the mark.

You were content to let him do whatever he wanted so you both sat quietly for some time as he looked at the mark that bound you together.

Asmodeus;

His was below your belly button. It was fitting and when you realized where it was you knew there was no way you'd let him see it right away. Perhaps you wanted to tease him or maybe you just didn't feel comfortable enough yet. But no matter how fitting the placement was, you weren't showing him right away.

Asmo begged to see it. He had so many ideas of where it could be, and considering he couldn’t find it on any of your exposed skin, his ideas were getting worse and worse as time went on.

You eventually gave in and let him see it and he was in love immediately. He would not stop looking at it and cooing over how good it looked on you.

“Alright, fine!”

You were more than a little frustrated at Asmo’s constant begging but at this point you didn’t actually mind showing him the pack mark that much. So you might as well show him now and get it over with.

Asmo was very excited. You could tell just by looking at him that he was bubbling with anticipation and excitement. His eyes did not stop looking over you for even a second while you prepared yourself to show him the pack mark.

With a quick motion you lifted your shirt and adjusted your pants to expose the little mark. Asmos eyes widened way before he could even see the mark but when his eyes finally landed on it he let out a gasp. He was enamored by the little mark and he reached out to place his hands on your sides. It was as if he was making sure you weren't going to go anywhere.

“How has it taken you so long to show me this?” He whined.

You shook your head at him but said nothing. Deciding to let him marvel at the little mark for however long he’d behave.

Beelzebub;

His mark appeared on your left shoulder. You actually couldn’t find it at first. Like you knew one had appeal but you could not figure out where it was, but eventually you did catch sight of it. It was in a place that someone else could maybe see depending on what you were wearing but you yourself weren’t able to get a great look at it most of the time.

Beel hadn’t thought about it much. He kinda forgot you even had a pack mark for a while but even when the thought crossed his mind he didn't have the biggest urge to see it either.

He did see it eventually though. You didn't make a point to show him but you just so happened to be wearing something that shows off your shoulders and there it was. Beel was very nonchalant about it.

You had been looking for Beel for a while. You had to give him something from Lucifer and you were looking to get the errandend over quickly so you could go back to whatever it was you actually had planned for the day. And luckily for you you finally found Beel eating a snack in one of the sitting rooms.

“Beel, I have something for you.” You said striding over to where he sat.

He freed his hands momentarily to take whatever it was you were giving him but he didn’t look too thrilled with it.

“It’s from Lucifer… Obviously.”

You laughed as Beel’s face scrunched up at your words but you paid it no mind as you turned around and began walking out of the room. As your back was turned to him you weren't able to catch the face he made when his eyes came in contact with your pack mark. His eyes went wide for a moment and he tried to map out the mark before you really left the room.

He didn’t say anything, just quietly let you go as he stared a hole into your shoulder. He had never had any interest in seeing the little mark before. But now, well maybe he would ask to see the mark again some time in the future.

Belphegor;

His mark appeared on the top of your right foot. It wasn't center to your foot though, it was slightly to the outside of your body. You found it pretty quickly as you do have to take off your shoes and socks pretty regularly, but the mark wasn't so out there that someone would see it every day.

Belphie was curious and he asked you almost immediately where it was and if he could see it. He had no shame in the question and if you really didn’t want to show him you could always say no.

He was quite intrigued by it when he saw it. There was no way he was going to be genuine about that though. So he resorted to staring at it and making a snarky comment.

“So can I see it?”

You shrugged at Belphie’s request to see the pack mark. You’ve gone through this before and at this point you really didn’t mind showing him. So you sat down and took off your shoe, revealing the little mark on the top of your foot. Belphie looked at the mark with a strange look on his face, you almost wanted to ask what was up,but you kept the question to yourself as he continued to gaze at the mark.

“That's it?”

You rolled your eyes at him but he didn’t even look up so you assumed he didn’t even notice. You could tell he was actually quite interested in the mark and you know how he can be so you let him act that way. But if he wasn’t going to ask the question you assumed he wanted to then you would offer for him. You moved your foot closer to him which made him flinch and look up at you. You only gave him an exasperated look before gesturing to your foot with your hand and spoke.

“Go on, touch it.”

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mostlymarvelsstuff · 3 months

Text

Reader receives Peggys nudes accidentally

Authors note: For Cap Carter specifically (Agent Carter is also hot, but this damn super soldier has me in a choke hold)

Word count: 691 Marvel Masterlist How They React To Masterlist

Technology is not her strong suit, she'd be the first one to tell you that too. So, it's hardly a surprise that she messed something up regarding her phone and its picture sending abilities. However, it is a surprise that she managed to accomplish sending you not just one, but two full frontal nudes that she had experimentally taken in the mirror after a shower while back. And she'd somehow done so just by shoving her phone in her pocket haphazardly after leaving a meeting. Great.

She has no idea what to do here, is there a way to unsend a photo? She hasn't a clue. Stark would know, and could probably do it too, but she would rather fist fight an alligator than explain this situation to the smug genius and have him see her pictures

“Oh, hell…” she mutters as she notices the read symbol showing up below the messages.

Knowing that you've now actually seen them, meaning you've seen her in full glory, has her face turning nearly as red as the stripes on her suit. Even though she's sure you're aware this was accidental, she wishes to apologize for her enormous blunder, but currently her hands just won't cooperate.

On your end, you really aren't fairing much better. You had been working on finishing up some after mission reports when your phone went off, twice. Now normally you would have ignored it, as you really did need to finish the paperwork for Hill. But from the drop-down notification you could see that it had been Peggy, and since you have a soft spot for the woman, and no it certainly wasn’t because you were crushing on her, you decided to let yourself be distracted

You come to regret that now though, because you're absolutely certain you were not meant to see those pictures of her. And you feel terrible, because even knowing that, you couldn't stop yourself from looking anyway. You knew the serum had bulked her up, afterall you'd gotten glimpses of some of that due to her workout apparel, but seeing her bare really drove the point home of just how fit she truly was. And the way the water droplets gathered in the recesses of her defined muscles, god was it attractive. But you do your best to shake those thoughts away. Now was not the time to ogle, as she was surely panicking. Now was the time to be casual, if at all possible.

She's not sure how long she sat there mentally berating herself for getting you both into this mess before her phone dings. She's all too aware that it was a message coming through and her stomach twists in knots with the anticipation that it's most likely you responding to her photos. She takes a deep breath before picking up the device to read your message

Jesus Peg, take a girl to dinner first

Her stomach twists again, but this time for an entirely different reason. You didn’t sound upset that you had gotten them, and you certainly weren’t disgusted by her accidental implication that you’d be into another woman. In fact, though you were trying to be comical about the ordeal, it almost seemed as though you liked them. And the thought alone had her heart pounding in her chest

Bloody device had a mind of its own, I am truly sorry

No harm done. Besides, I’d rather get your nudes than anyone else's

Oh my god, did you really just type that? And hit send?? You slam your head down against your desk with a groan and pray that it goes undelivered, or that somehow her phone spontaneously combusts before she can read it. However, you aren't that lucky.

Her eyebrows raise at your admission, and she finds herself chewing on her bottom lip in contemplation. Should she take a risk? Surely there'd be no harm in it, if you reacted this well to an unsolicited picture of her naked then your reaction to a date request wouldn’t be anything she couldn’t handle.

Well then, how about we grab that dinner? I can pick you up at 6

#peggy carter #peggy carter x reader #peggy x y/n #peggy x reader #marvel #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #captain carter

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mikavlcs · 1 year

Text

Static Patterns

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: Wednesday’s struggling to say those three special words, so she decides to instead show you how she feels.

Warnings: soft/ooc!wednesday(!!!), reader’s kinda unserious, sorry

Word count: 1.8k

Notes: this was requested by @beauty-in-the-brkdwn, hope you enjoy<3

Masterlist

Never in her life had Wednesday felt more stupid than she did now.

Mere months ago, she had faced and overcome unthinkable odds, defeating an undead pilgrim and saving the entirety of Nevermore from destruction. A feat she pulled off with moderate ease.

And now here she was being bested by something as trivial as words.

It was humiliating to think about, even conceptually. That she—an aspiring writer—was struggling with words. A communicative tool she had mastered using before the age of five. This was even worse when paired with the fact that what she was struggling to say was so torturously simple.

Three words. Eight letters.

A phrase that millions were able to say in passing and yet the thought of actually saying those words to you was somehow more daunting than the Hyde and Crackstone combined.

It shouldn’t have been, she knew that. Her candor was one of her defining features, a thing of pride even. But when combined with everything they symbolize, those three syllables suddenly weighed a thousand pounds on her tongue.

She tried and failed multiple times and as bitter as defeat tasted, she had no choice but to swallow it down and rethink her strategy.

Thus, a new, different approach was taken. After all, they did say that actions spoke louder than words. One of the most fundamental rules when writing was show don’t tell. So she settled for showing you how she felt rather than vocalizing it.

It started small with something as small and insignificant as breakfast. One morning she decided to procure a bowl of your favorite cereal and another, smaller bowl of assorted fruits.

You would always whine about how they were gone by the time you got there—which was entirely your fault, seeing as you arrived nearly ten minutes after everyone else did—so she figured this was a good place to start.

The excitement on your face as you took your place next to her told her she was correct.

From there it branched out slowly, like roots growing within soil.

She would take your books from you and carry them while she escorted you to your classes—even the ones she didn’t attend with you. It made your commutes much easier since nobody dared step into Wednesday’s way while she marched through the halls.

Stealing snacks for you from the kitchen became a daily occurrence. And with a few well-executed threats, she was able to take them free of charge. They were left in your locker, Wednesday feigning surprise when you found them, but you both knew the truth.

When you mournfully showed her the C+ you got on your Botany test she demanded politely offered to tutor you.

It even got to the point where she was willing to indulge in what she would consider blasphemy—physical touch.

This specific form of affection was something she vehemently avoided, its alleged pleasures something that eluded her. But you abstained for the sake of her comfort, so she would be willing to put forth an effort for the sake of yours.

It wasn’t much, but sometimes at lunch when she was absolutely sure no one was paying attention, she would tentatively cross her pinky with yours. And when you sat across from her at the Weathervane, she lightly rested her hand over yours.

She would admit—never aloud—that it wasn’t terrible.

You noticed the abrupt shift in her behavior, of course. The first few times you let it be, curious glances in her direction your only acknowledgment of the situation.

But eventually, the questions started, and Wednesday being always prepared, had her answers ready on her tongue.

“Your complaints about these being gone every morning are tiresome, so I got them for you since you can’t be bothered to show up on time.”

“Your feeble arms looked like they were struggling more than usual. The pitiful display has gotten rather boring.”

“These grades are not reflective of your limited intellectual abilities, it’s disappointing. I’ll fix that.”

Her snark never had much effect on you, so the excuses always earned an honest, if a bit bewildered chuckle from you (though she swore she could see fear in your eyes after that last one). But you didn’t question her further.

If she were to hazard a guess, she would say that you refused to inquire about her actions because you were afraid she would stop upon confrontation. And she knew you didn’t want that.

It was clear to her that you were enjoying her efforts. You were always a more inherently joyful person than her, but she had never seen as many smiles and blushes from you as she did these past few weeks. It was a pleasant thing to witness, she supposed.

And perhaps, somewhere deep down in the dark recesses of her mind, she was enjoying it as well.

You were late, like usual.

The Saturday study sessions she set up were scheduled to start at 12:30, meaning that you would arrive at 12:40. Your chronic tardiness was something that was so deeply ingrained that even she couldn’t correct it. She had long since given up trying.

She instead used the extra time to her advantage.

Opposite of you, she arrived every Saturday at 12:20 on the dot, preferring to be early so she could secure her favorite booth in the back of the café. The time before you arrived was used to plan out the lessons she would cover with you and color-coordinate her notes to make sure they were easy for you to understand.

The usual medium hot chocolate you ordered was placed on your side of the table, steam rising steadily from the top, but a new addition was the croissant she decided to order alongside it on a whim. You would appreciate it, she knew, you were always hungry.

At exactly 12:40, she heard the bell on the door chime and the familiar sound of your footsteps followed. She fought against the urge to straighten up and look back at you, gluing her eyes to the notes she was organizing.

There was movement in her peripherals as you slid into her sightline, the crooked grin on your face immediately identifiable, even out of focus. “Hey.”

“Hello,” she greeted evenly, sparing you only a glance as she pushed the pastry further over in your direction. Naturally, your eyes followed the movement and lit up comically once you spotted the food.

“For me?” you asked rather redundantly, the beginnings of a smile pulling at your lips.

Wednesday gave you a blank stare. “You’re the only other person at this table.”

That stupid, stunning smile only widened. You picked the croissant up and took a bite, never breaking eye contact with her. “Thanks, Wen.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, running her eyes over the expanse of your face. Then, “Now, open your textbook to page 274.”

Your face dropped but you obeyed.

Thirty minutes were spent taking notes and going over terms. A great use of the early afternoon in Wednesday’s opinion, though she knew your feelings would differ vastly.

You were focused on working for all of ten minutes before you started sending her long, blatantly obvious glances from across the table.

At the fifth consecutive look in a row, she decided to confront you. “If you have something to say then say it.”

You didn’t seem surprised to be called out, but you still took a minute to delve into your concerns. “What…is all of this?”

She paused her writing, glanced up briefly. “I’m not sure I understand your question.”

“Yeah, sorry that was vague,” you apologized, lightly shaking your head. “I mean all of these things you’ve been doing for these past few weeks—carrying my books, getting me my favorite foods at school, helping me study, and now buying me things…I love it, really but I don’t want you to do this because you think you need to-“

“I don’t,” she interrupted. “I do nothing out of an abstract sense of obligation, you know this.”

She didn’t have to see you to know that you were smiling. “Yes, I do. I just want to make sure that you know you don’t have to do all of this if you don’t want to.”

You were giving her an out. An unnecessary one, but the thought managed to be both touching and offensive. That you would sacrifice something that you are clearly enjoying for her was…courteous.

But the fact that you could possibly that she—Wednesday Addams—was doing anything for someone else because she “felt as if she had to” was nauseating and it needed to be fixed immediately.

“I do. Want to,” she said, her normally seamless cadence stunted as she tried to phrase her thoughts in a way that wasn’t painfully embarrassing. “I’m attempting to express the depth of my…feelings toward you.”

“Feelings? And what exactly do you feel for me?” Your tone was sincere, but there was a hint of smugness in it. Like you already knew the answer to your question.

“Disdain, at the moment,” she deadpanned as her mind receded elsewhere.

If she were to stop talking now, she knew you would drop it and take the win for what it was, but, strangely, she didn’t want to stop. The repulsive desire to open up pulled at her and she couldn’t help but lament the devastating effects that these cursed feelings continued to have on her.

Wednesday accepted her fate, took a deep breath, and swallowed her pride.

“In all seriousness, I…don’t hate you,” she ground out. “At all. Quite the opposite actually. And I felt it was important to let you know that, even if it was only through small, inane gestures.”

There was a moment of silence. Then another, and another. Unable to resist, Wednesday lifted her eyes to you and found that you looked positively awestruck. Eyes wide, brows raised, and lips parted. Utterly speechless.

She drank in the admittedly rare sight.

Slowly, the astonishment abated, and a wide, unruly grin crept onto your face. She knew right then that you were about to make her regret her confession.

“Awww,” you cooed, and, to her horror, you moved forward to press a warm kiss to her cheek.

Wednesday grimaced and glanced around to make sure that there were no witnesses to your display of affection.

Thankfully, it seemed that no one had seen or if they had, they made the smart decision to look away before she gauged their eyes out.

She turned back and glared at you with as much murderous intent as she could muster, trying to seem utterly disgusted with your behavior. But she knew the undeniable burning in her cheeks told you everything you needed to know.

Giggling, you sat back, reaching over to thread your fingers together with hers. Your smile tempered, softening around the edges until only tenderness and an emotion that she was becoming all too familiar with remained.

You leaned forward again, and this time, she was too enraptured to bother looking around.

“I love you too, Wednesday.”

#wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams imagine #jenna ortega

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jarofstyles · 8 months

Text

Indigo- Cobalt

Hellooooo.. Here is part 3 to indigo! Hope you enjoy tattoorry.

Warnings- tattoos, mention of needles, blood, brief mention of vomit, anxiety, you're going to want to eat harry

Check out our Patreon!

WC- 2.9k

-------

Y/N felt dizzy.

It wasn’t the prospect of getting a tattoo that was making her so nervous- it was the fact that Harry’s thigh was pressed right up against hers, his body angled towards her as he sketched on his ipad drawing program. He’d said he prefers pencil and paper but it was easier for this type of session to do it there. Faster. She had no input other than the fact that he smelled really fucking good and his leg was warm against her own.

She had indulged some information to him. First and foremost, she wanted a sunflower. A dainty little sunflower with a bit of shading and a longer stem that would go down a bit and twist near her wrist. Her plans for one day having a floral sleeve with her favorite flowers and the birth month flowers of her family had been shared, but she wanted to start off relatively simple with the first one. See how her body reacted, her healing time, all while leaving room if she liked it and wanted to continue with the sleeve.

Harry had been endeared and slightly impressed. It was rare that he got new clients anymore, as most were fairly covered by the time they got to him. However when he did do new clients back in the start, most didn’t have the extensive research she had done, nor the plan. He was all for going for what felt right, but Y/N had been specific and practical in her planning and it made him feel even more fond. She had taken the time to research not only the safety, but the importance of listening to artists suggestions and double checking the work.

It’d been a while since he had done a floral piece, but he was up for it. Truthfully, Y/N could have told him she wanted a rose skull with an infinity symbol in the eye socket and he would have done it for her, but he was relieved it was something that was relatively easy to perfect.

The man knew that he was a perfectionist when it came to his work. Harry didn’t do sloppy- at least not in his work. He kept clean, crisp lines and smooth shading, he did his best to keep any blowout from happening as much as he could on his own end, and he educated each client on the likelihood of the colors they chose longevity and when they’d probably need it touched up. His tattoos were for the clients, sure, but it was also a representation of his work. He was lucky enough now to have his choice on taking clients- there were plenty he turned away or handed off to other artists he thought could better suit them. His hard work had bled into the success he had wanted, leaving him the ability to be picky.

Normally he wouldn’t want to do a first time client because, well… he really didn’t like doing them. First timers didn’t know what to expect the majority of the time, they didn’t know how to sit still, they would wince and move and complain far too much for Harry to feel at his best. He wasn’t judging them, but now that he had a choice he chose to keep to people who had at least one.

Y/N was the exception to the rule.

He felt honored that she would like his art on her, a bit of that primal satisfaction that it would be his too. No one else would have touched her with the needle, no one else had a shot at marking up her pretty, soft skin. It was a privilege, especially considering their origin.

“What do we think?” He murmured, showing her the second sketch with some of her notes. She hadn’t liked the thickness of the stem originally, and Harry had agreed it had been a bit too leafy so he had taken some off. “S’a bit thinner in the stem and I did a curve at the bottom so it’ll fit with the movement of your arm.”

“Moment of my arm?” She asked curiously, hitting him with a curious gaze. Harry had been extremely patient with her thus far and it made her nervous to ask for corrections, but he had told her that it was going to be on her forever and he needed it to be exactly what she wanted.

“Mhm. Where you’re putting it… The skin moves when you rotate your arm. S’why we don't usually put straight lines there, at least I don’t unless in specific situations. We want it to run smoothly regardless of which way your arm is positioned. So adding a bit of a curve in the stem would make it look straighter when you move it.” He showed the motion on his own arm so she could have an example.

“Oh. I never would have thought of that.” She blinked, watching as his arm moved. He had quite a few tattoos, some she had never been truly able to make out. Now being up so close, she had a front row seat to the anchor on his wrist and the cross on his hand, some of the little doodles that she had been so curious about. He seemed to have different styles of work and she liked that each one seemed to differ just a bit. “How many tattoos do you think you’ve done in your career?”

The question popped into her head out of nowhere but it still remained there. She was increasingly curious as to how he had gotten started, what he did and didn’t like doing. Pure thirst for the knowledge of what went through his head. He’d been a silent shadow most of the time she’d known him, so it was interesting to purely listen to him talk.

“Erm.. I’d say a couple hundred? There are some days I only work on one, some I do none, some days I can do three to four.” He paused, placing his apple pencil down, turning slightly to look at her. Their thighs pressed further together. “When I first started, I did a lot of flash sheets of shit that wasn’t my own. Think of, like, the pinterest stuff. Little hearts and stars, stuff on my mates, myself. They had me practice a ton when I was apprenticing but it made me good.” He brushed the hair out of his face. He really needed to find his hair clip. “Was frustrated at first, because I knew I could draw and stuff, but they were making me do those tiny things for basically no money- but, y’know, It’s harder than you’d think. Especially on someone who’s moving or someone who’s giggling with a bunch of their friends that they brought.”

“Is that why there was that sign out there?” Her face broke into a little grin, remembering the hand lettered sign before you went back to the rooms. ‘No children, No drinking, No plus threes’. “I find it hard to believe that people want to bring three people into the room with them.” That was inconsiderate. One? She could understand. That made sense if you were nervous. But multiple people just made it more crowded and loud. She’d rather be alone and deal with the experience being potentially awkward rather than make herself an inconvenient client.

His scoff took her by surprise, head tipping back in amusement. “Oh, they do. They did. Now it’s limited to one person in the room and you’ve got t’be over 18. Special allowances are made sometimes, but some of the places I worked at before starting my own place had no one enforcing or making those sorts of rules. It’s just unsafe. You’d be surprised how many drunk people come in demanding ink.” It was one of his least favorite clients. Drunk people tended to squirm and vomit, you know, besides getting a permanent image inked into the skin. That’s one thing he would never do again.

“Hm. Well it seems like you’re running a great place. I saw your stuff on instagram.” Her praise made him flush slightly, feeling a tiny bit shy as she continued. “And then the articles and awards you’ve got up front. It’s massively impressive. I’m surprised you’re tattooing me if I’m honest. She said up front I had virgin skin?” A head tilt at the end of her words reminded him of a puppy.

“Well, like I said. Special occasion.” He knocked his knee against hers in a playful attempt. “Just means no ink. Nothing nasty. I usually don’t do people with no ink because they can be twitchy and I can choose the pieces I do now. Usually I do more long and involved ones but, I’m more than happy to be doing yours.” His smile was a reassurance that he was more than happy to do it.

“Are you sure?” Y/N frowned slightly, suddenly feeling a little guilty. She didn’t want him to do a tattoo he didn’t want to do, or even more so do it on her just because he felt bad about the times before. “If you don’t want to do it, I’m happy to go to another artist in your shop-”

“No, I want to do it.” His voice was fast, interrupting hers without meaning to. It had rushed out without his permission, but the ugly twisting inside his gut had started at the mention of someone else doing this. She had wanted him, had planned on him, and if he was being honest? He was a bit selfish. His art was meant to go on people like Y/N. People who appreciated the art, who appreciated the skill. Add in his big fat crush, and it was not something he was going to pass up.

“O-Okay.” Y/N smiled, looking back down at her lap. His jeans were against her leg, and she couldn't stop thinking about how warm he was. How happy she was that he had chosen to sit with her on here instead of the armchair. A giddiness bubbled in her stomach as she felt his eyes on her, a hand coming down into her field of vision and gripping her knee. Her face felt hot, looking down at the fingers that curled over. It felt like she had been shocked at first, but moved into a warm glow.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.

If she was any less strong, she would have squeaked. The large hand rested there, giving her leg a squeeze before he continued to speak.

“You ready to get some ink, then?”

—-------------

“You’ve had somethin’ to eat today, right?” Harry’s voice spoke to her as she sat in the red leather seat. His back was turned to her as he opened up a few drawers, grabbing what looked to be some sort of tape, vaseline, ink caps, different wrapped needles maybe? A blue liner sat over the tray, keeping it sanitary as he placed the supplies down. There was no reason to doubt he would be, but it only furthered her comfort.

“Yeah, I had a croissant and a pastry. Coffee too.” She peeped, hoping that would be good enough in his eyes.

With the way he turned in his chair, it wasn’t. “C’mon, babe. You’ve gotta eat better than that… but I can say m’glad you didn’t have a heavy meal a few minutes ago.” That would be a nightmare if she felt the need to spew. “Nothing with protein.. If you feel like you’re getting lightheaded, like you’re going to faint? Tell me immediately. This shouldn’t be too bad, all things considered, but there's no shame in taking a break.” He really didn’t mind it. That was much preferred over someone passing out on him.

“Okay. I’ll tell you.” Her eyes widened slightly but she avoided his eyes again, instead choosing to look at his hair. He’d found his hair clip when they’d walked in, saying something about having been looking for it for ages before gathering hair at the front of his face and clipping it back out of the way. He looked fucking adorable.

Tattoos, piercings and all, he looked adorable. Y/N had always thought he was handsome, hot, even, but his little smiles and concern for her had made her feel a little floaty and giggly and she needed to contain herself.

“Good girl.” His hand squeezed her leg again before turning around on the stool to finish unwrapping supplies.

If he heard her squeak, he didn’t let her know it.

They sat in a comfortable silence, the music hooked to his phone playing at a comfortable level as he did his thing. Y/N looked at his back, admiring the broad nature, his strong shoulders and how it strained slightly against his shirt. At this point, she was nearly positive she was just being extremely thirsty over the man who had always been a faraway object of desire- even if she had thought he hated her.

“Alright.” Harry returned, voice making Y/N jump slightly. “Sorry, sorry. I’ve got the stencil.” Holding it up, he let her take a look and smiled to himself as her eyes rounded and she smiled widely. It did that weird thing to his chest as she squirmed, sitting straighter as he approached with it. “Good? We can put it on in a moment. Just got t’prep you.”

“It’s so beautiful, Harry.” Her wispy voice nearly made him fall off his chair. He wished he wasn’t so weak, wished he wasn’t such a soft heart for her, that he could be a bit more suave, but when she spoke like that, looked at him like that, said his name like that? All he wanted to do was scream.

“M’glad you think so.” He replied gently, taking his seat. “Is it okay if I touch you? I need to adjust your arm.” Touching bare skin was a limit a surprising amount of people had- himself included. He usually preferred his bed partners keeping their hands to themselves, no matter how much they wanted to trace his ink. His actual partners, he enjoyed, but people didn’t have much of a sense of boundary sometimes.

“Yeah! Yeah, of course. You can do whatever you want to me.”

Dangerous fucking words, Harry thought. He couldn’t allow his thoughts to stray at the moment, so he decided to save that sweet tone and double meaning sentence to obsess over at a later time.

It didn’t take him too long, his fingers brushing over the skin as he shaved it to make sure the canvas was clear and prepped her for the stencil. Y/N was quiet, watching his concentration. He got a cute little thing between his brows as he focused on her, making sure the stencil was straight and where she wanted before laying it and pressing down.

When he peeled it away, she audibly gasped. “This is perfect.” Her voice went up in pitch. “It’s better than I imagined, H. Really. I love it.” Speaking like the ink was already in her skin, he flushed again as he placed the paper into the tray.

“You sure? Placement’s good?”

“Perfect. I like it right here.” She nodded, eyes not leaving the blue stain.

“Okay. We’re going to get started then, okay?” He pulled on a pair of fresh gloves, scooting himself and the station a bit closer to her. “We’re starting with the outlining, then we move to shading. It’s gonna be uncomfortable, mostly when I have to go over the lines again but we aren’t going to be too close to bone so It shouldn't be terrible.” He was doing his job now to mentally prepare her. “You can tell me if you need the bathroom or if you need to move at all. Everyone’s pain thresholds are different. Don’t feel embarrassed. I’m sure as hell not going to judge you.” His smile was reassuring as she looked a little nervous, but more so the excited type. It was easy to tell.

“I will tell you. Do you need me to stay quiet when you're tattooing? To keep focus? I don’t want to distract you.” Y/N questioned, big eyes looking at him with curiosity.

Anyone else? Anyone else in the entire world, he would tell them yes. He preferred a quiet environment to work, to get into the zone and truly concentrate. But there was no way in hell he was going to pass up an opportunity to hear her talk and babble. She had been so quiet around him before- rightfully so, considering she thought he would tell her to shut up- but he ached to just get a little bit closer. That yearning of his soft heart was pulsing, wishing to get to know her more. His brain was telling him to relax and be logical, but they both knew who would win out.

“Absolutely not, Sunflower. Chatter away.”

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imrllytootiredforthis · 1 year

Text

Gorgeous

pairing: song mingi x reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: dom!reader, sub!mingi, mingi's called princess a lot, thigh riding, praise kink, degradation, kinda bratty mingi in the beginning, hair pulling, that's all i can think of

a/n: didn't know if i should post this or not but🤷, hopefully you enjoy

it's like a treat ig because i'm probably gonna be pretty inactive for the rest of the week😭(other than queued posts)

It was always hard to fathom how lucky you were.

Lucky to have many things you suppose; a roof over your head, food to eat, clothes to wear.

But most specifically to have him.

The amazing, beautiful man laying across your body on the bed, his torso laying horizontally across your own, creating a cross-like symbol.

Mingi held his phone close to his face, scrolling through something you couldn't quite make out from the position. His breathing steady, looking at utter peace as he lay completely unaware to the admirer he had.

The way the sun streaked across the side of his face, flowing in from the open drapes of your bedroom window like a spot-light just for him.

You could stay like this forever. Watching him, feeling his weight on you, letting the comfortable silence consume the room filled only with your heartbeat and his calm breaths.

Finally he seemed to sense your eyes glued on him, looking back up and meeting your gawking head on with a quiet kind of blush.

Phone forgotten, mind elsewhere.

“Hi.” He whispered, voice low.

“Princess,” You could feel him give a slight shiver at the sound of yours, husky from disuse, almost seductive with the way you let a hand gently brush though his hair and lower then to feel over his cheekbones and nose, paying special attention as your fingers grazed his lips.

He sighed into it, puckering his lips to leave a soft kiss on each of the pads of your fingers before your hand drifted upward again, petting and playing with his hair, him pushing his head into your touch, nearly purring with hopes of more.

God, you were so lucky to have him.

So lucky that you'd ever even met him.

So lucky that on that one day you’d been forced to take a shift at your former job, in a cafe, taking over for a 'sick' coworker.

Tired and cranky and upset with life, but there he was, something to bright up your day. And perhaps the rest of your life.

He came in panting.

Late for whatever he was supposed to be doing, hair a ruffled mess that only seemed to endear you more. A small, almost awkward smile, adorably sheepish across his face as he ordered his drink.

You were pretty sure his shirt was inside out but didn’t want to point it out because you didn’t want to embarrass him. It didn’t matter much though because his friend, a regular named Seonghwa you knew from writing his name on his drink almost every day, joined him a few minutes later, pointing out to him what you had failed to.

He turned even redder when his friend had told him, glancing over to you, hoping that you hadn’t noticed.

Only to see a catlike smile on your face that had him quickly heading to the bathroom to fix himself up.

He stood in the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror, cursing himself, becoming determined to not make any more a fool of himself than he'd already done.

But when he finally came out, heading back to his table, he failed to watch where he was walking, crashing right into you and spilling coffee all over your clothes and the floor.

He was absolutely mortified. Apologizing over and over, fretting as he tried to help clean up, only proving to get in your way more the poor thing.

Your coworkers came over to help, to mop up the mess and help try to save the fabric of your shirt but Mingi continued to insist until one of them almost scolded him, telling him to go back to his table.

For the rest of the time he spent there, working on his project with Seonghwa you could feel his eyes on you, looking away whenever you glanced back.

Mingi wasn’t a regular, it was his first time there and probably his last after making such a fool of himself in front of the fucking barista.

An extremely attractive barista.

A barista he couldn’t help but stumble over his words with, blush like a schoolboy.

And making you spill the coffee was the last straw....he could never show his face here ever again.

He looked down at his lap when you brought his coffee over, avoiding all eye contact until you were safely back behind your counter only for him to notice something was written on the side.

‘I can act like I can’t see you staring at me, or you can call me later, (insert phone number I’m too lazy to make up)’

After that Mingi became a regular.

And all because of that fucking annoying coworker that fake called in sick so she could skip and hang out with her boyfriend.

Well now you had a gorgeous man laying across you, subtly, maybe even unconsciously grinding up against you.

So maybe you could forgive her.

“Please,”

A single breathy word and you glance down, a moan escaping him, an octave higher than his voice normally is, wanton and full of pure need.

He ruts against the side of your leg, phone pushed over to the end of the bed as he moans.

Looking up at you with eyes that scream ‘fuck me’ in a universal language…but also something more.

He eyes you carefully, watching the way your thighs almost imperceptibly press together. You watch as he raises an eyebrow before it’s quickly gone, replaced by a pout.

“Don't you want me?” You swallow the lump in your throat, watching him slither up your body, coming up so close you can feel his breath across your face. His lips are only inches from yours, your noses almost touching.

His eyes flicker down before he's whining, body languidly moving until he's straddling your hips, tensing thighs pinning you in place and his hard dick pressing against your stomach.

“Jesus christ, fuck all.” You mutter, wondering when the day will come when he makes you finally lose it.

“How ‘bout you fuck me instead?” He rolls his hips against you once more, letting out an over-exaggerated moan like he’s your own personal show.

You groan.

Fuck the way he always seems to get his way.

Fuck your weak willpower.

Fuck him, as he wants.

Your book gets thrown unceremoniously onto the floor as he snatches it out of your hands.

“Well that wasn’t very nice.” You frown.

The bratty look on his face has you wanting to do everything he asks of you and more until he’s a crying little mess, ruined beyond even talking.

“Well it’s not very nice that you’re not fuck-“

Your hands are on him.

Groping and sinful in every way you know he loves best.

Your hands are everywhere and his uselessly clutch at the sheets in tight fists, drowning under your touch, gasping for air like a man being drowned.

“God, please!”

Looking up at you with the eyes of a devil pretending to be an angel.

A smile curls at your lips.

Then your hands are sliding up and under his shirt, cool fingers feeling over smooth skin. Over his abdomen and then up higher until he’s panting.

Running over the blank canvas of his throat, lightly teasing at the prospect of wrapping around it.

Touching, teasing, feeling anywhere you can find purchase, driving him absolutely, maddeningly insane.

One hand brushes over the curve of his ass. Right where it meets his thigh, letting him try to arch into it before squeezing and kneading, making him bury his face into the crook of his arm with muffled noises of pleasure.

You’re in his head, taking over every thought and every little thing. Making him forget anything and everything except for how good it feels. You feel.

He whines, thrusting becoming sloppier, needier.

“You desperate baby?”

He nods, biting his lip in a futile attempt to hold back a groan when you grip his hair, pulling his head up and out into the open.

“Don’t hide from me,” you pout, “wanna see your pretty face.”

A wave of arousal washes over you at how much of a mess he already is. Even more so as he lets himself be maneuvered-practically manhandled-by you.

Because that’s the thing, no matter how hard he’d try to be a brat, no matter the words speaking out of occurrence.

It only ever led to one thing happening.

This. Him. A pliant mouldable thing all laid out and ready-begging-for you to use him however you may like.

Pushing him up higher onto his knees, his body easily being led along by your gentle orders. “Sit on my thigh baby. C’mon, you’ll be a good boy, won’t you?”

He makes a sound in the back of his throat, “yes, yes, ‘m your good boy, only yours.” He continues to babble, nodding along as he moves from your hips to straddle your thigh instead.

“Yeah? Gonna such a good boy for me princess” Mingi whines, burying his face into your neck, leaving sloppy open-mouthed kisses up and down the expanse of your throat. You laugh, perhaps at your own expense because in the next second he’s nipping lightly over the one place he knows will drive you insane, in hopes of eliciting a sound of your own.

He gets his way fairly quickly, your moans ringing loudly in his ears, making him all the more worked up.

It makes him so dizzy and hazy, he shakes his head, intent on savouring this. In imprinting this exact moment into his memory.

In remembering your soft gasp as he drags his tongue, hot and wet, over your throat, moaning all the while.

In remembering the way your nails dig into his scalp, tugging at the roots of his hair. Rough in context to the soft touch of the tips of your fingers sliding up and down the length of his spine, leaving goosebumps in your wake as he begins sucking a harsh hickey onto your neck that you know you’ll regret letting him leave tomorrow.

But that’ll be tomorrow and you can’t even begin to bring yourself to care about then when you could be right here. Right now.

“Fuck baby,” you breathe, dragging him back by his hair.

He lets out a protesting whine but you ignore it, lovingly looking into his watery eyes, his pace never ending, continuing to thrust into your thigh like a bitch in heat.

You let it slide for now.

Because he’s so cute as he pants, a flush crawling up his neck and over his cheeks.

So fucking adorable the way he covers his face with his hands, fingers slightly parted to see you, squeaking out, “don’t look at me like that.”

If he hadn’t been dry humping your thigh all the while you would’ve squealed and pulled him closer, cooing about how cute he was.

But that wasn’t the case,

“Like what?”

“Like you want to eat me or something,”

You smile teasingly, peeling his fingers away one by one.

You could simply devour him.

“Have I ever told you just how pretty you are, Song Mingi?” You whisper, fingers brushing over his cheekbones, voice soft as your eyes flicker down to his lips. Plush and slightly swollen and oh so kissable, spreading wide into a heartachingly dumb smile. Then you look up to his eyes, soft and shining with hearts dancing in his lust-blown pupils.

“Yes, all the time,” His words come out in a half pant and slurred as he presses himself closer, eyes lidded, “but you can always tell me again…I don’t mind.”

Your hands make contact with his hips, ceasing his movements all together. He whimpers but stops when you tut him, thumbs slipping just under the waistband of his boxers.

“Pretty,” you whisper.

A loose mewl crawls from his lips, trying to roll down against you. The praise going straight to his head-both of them.

He’s never outright admitted it, but you could always tell what the words did to him.

It was obvious with how his eyes lit up, breath hitching and body stiffening.

You noticed the very first time you’d called him that; pretty, gorgeous, beautiful, any and every synonym.

Fuck, he loved them all.

Loved to be called them, loved the words no matter if they were kind and sweet or envious and jealous or simply downright degrading.

In fact, he seemed to like the last one the most.

“Such a pretty little whore, aren’t you princess?” you pull his head up, contemplating before licking a long strip from his collarbone to jaw. "My pretty little slut."

You sound so possessive, so-so controlling and that paired with your hand in his hair-the other on his hip, squeezing the flesh of his ass while pushing him to move faster and faster, harder and harder and, and-

"Mine. Just for me, right? Such a pretty thing for only me to use, right princess?" You mutter against the skin of his throat.

His heart stutters and you can feel it, almost hear it until it’s covered by a loud keen, arching his back and pawing at your shoulders.

Shuddering and shivering and clutching and whispering "yes, yes, yes, yours, yours, yes yours." Over and over like a mantra as you pepper kisses all over.

He lets out a choked gasp, followed by a breathy little whine, going completely tense around you. Muscles pulled so taught his body trembles in place, his nails digging so hard into your shoulder you can't help but let out a hiss, wondering if he drew blood.

And then just like that he moans out a sigh.

You pull away to look up at him, “Did you just cum?”

His body falls slack, slumping against you with a weight that nearly makes you fall back against the headboard.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck and nods, words failing him, continuing to shiver slightly with the intensity of his orgasm.

He nuzzles closer, whining when even then it’s not close enough, mumbling something tiredly, the words unintelligible.

"Pardon baby, what'd you say?"

Mingi, your angel, your devil, your fucking little brat. You can feel him smile against your skin, placing his lips up by your ear, teeth teasing the shell, breath sending shivers down your spine and warming your body.

“Can you fuck me now?”

You nearly choke, “what?”

He rolls off, laying on the bed right next to you, slipping off his now dirtied pants and boxers, before falling back and opening his legs wide. “Fuck me, please?”

You almost moan out loud.

“Aren't you tired princess?" He shakes his head no. You sigh. "Such a whore.”

He smiles sweetly, looking every ounce of ruined he did only seconds ago with mussed up hair and hickeys adorning his neck, all hard and flushed and begging to be ruined all over again.

Still managing to let that mischievous glint enter his watery eyes and get a smartass quip ready on his lips.

“Only a whore for you.”

---

a/n: i hope this is okay, this is my first fic for ateez so cut me some slack if it isn't the best😭, i'd love your thoughts and feedback to know what you all thought

and lol, just realized that this is my 500th post

my taglist is open here; @honeymooncrz, @d7dream, @lemonhongjoong

(unsure if you two want to be tagged for ateez or txt stuff so just lmk if you don't) @hobihearteu, @imsolovelylovely

#mingi x reader #mingi smut #sub mingi #sub ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #sub!ateez #sub!mingi #dom!reader #dom reader #sub kpop #sub!kpop

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fumifooms · 3 months

Text

On beastkin tattoos and drawn/written magic

Tried figuring stuff out because I was making a tattooed beastkin oc. Take it or leave it, just a bunch of observations and theorizing. There is a focus on how the tattoos look but I also try to figure out the underlying principles of how they work.

Table of contents:

observations & important details

Stuff that beastkin tattoos look like

Theories

Non-beastkin tattoos

I called the components lines and dents in the pic above, but it’d be more accurate to call them characters I think, or even symbols. At the time I wasn’t sure if it was a specific "alphabet" used for these tattoos and if they represented anything more than lines to the people using it so I called them like dents in a line or teeth in a toothwheels or inner layers in locks, but since I made the connection to magic circles I think they do. It’s the same structure as with magic circles, lines connecting characters and favoring circle structures. All magic iirc comes from calling upon spirits, so it’s interesting to wonder what written magic does exactly, if it communicates with the spirits or simply compels them.

Observations & important details

The picture at the start summarizes my observations and the recurring patterns, but I’ll also do a rundown and add more. The fundamental structure of the tattoos seem to be lines forming big simple patterns, and then small characters that sprout from a side of those lines. Although, not all lines have characters/dents, and some characters have two lines one on both sides like on Lycion’s forearms. On Lycion’s legs, there are also lines with two rows of characters on either sides, so yeah the line & dents are the fundamental structure but it’s flexible on how it’s put into practice.

Oh yeah, also notable that when doing less intricate doodles like on her blog or Daydream Hours, she often omits details so we can’t be sure on the smaller drawings wether there are dents/characters on some lines or not, we have to assume if they’re implied or if there aren’t any. For example on Lycion’s reference all the lines on his forearms have dents, but if you look at the other beastkins it’s honestly debatable wether there are dents on the lines around their forearms and lower legs, also see Otta’s tattoos on her reference…

One of the more important and puzzling details is that beastkin tattoos look very different depending on the soul type, from werebear to wererat etc etc. BUT we also see with Lycion and that random werewolf, that there is room for difference even within the tattoos for the same soul type… Of course, if we don’t assume that those differences aren’t because the type of canine soul are different, since Lycion does mention he doesn’t know which canine type his was so there’s room for variety there apparently. But I doubt that’d change much within the same genus and whatnot, but still, then we have the question… Weretigers’ tattoos look like tiger stripes, and werebears have lines that seem to emphasize a bear’s chest fur? Those two types have a lot of wavy lines that make them look rather different from werewolf and wererat tattoos. Different soul types certainly seem to require different tattoos, but to what degree is the choice of how and where the lines are placed artistic, and to what degree is it efficient if not necessary? What’s the logic of where they need to be, going from one soul type to the next? The weretiger and werebear one seem to have fitting patterns for their animal, but werewolf and wererat have much more artifical patterns.

One of the recurring patterns with similar placements are all the lines forming circles around wrists, forearms, lower legs and ankles… Positions do seem to be important especially with the recurring placings. Maybe the lines are in the places that are expected to change the most: legs and ankles & wrists with new inhuman different joints, strong muscled shoulders for tigers, strong core for bears, etc. A tiger’s eye, with all the tattoos around them…? More lines = an easier stronger more efficient transformation? With the differences in tattoos for same soul types I don’t know how much precision in the pattern themselves are important tbh, though I imagine the characters/dents are the crux of the magic and precision there is the most important. Feet and hands tend to be untouched though, Lycion is the exception to this with tattoos on his hands and fingers. Circles seem overall important imo, lines are almost always curved, or go straight around a limb to reach its other end and form circles that way, werewolf torso tattoos, etc etc.

In Lycion’s ref the tattoo ink is a brownish red, but we don’t see if that’s the norm- is what I would have said before the new Daydream Hour came out with some tattooed elves portraits where they’re a vivid red. Fleki’s tattoos are covered in her main colored reference(and in the mangas all tattoos are black ofc including Lycion’s, while on her blog and Daydream Hours the color is inconsistent and often black too), Otta’s are black though they also seem at least partly non-magical? The snake/rope pattern doesn’t look consistent with magical tattoos in general imo. Pictures of these tattoos are compiled at the end of the post btw.

It’s also important to remember, because of the pic below, we can never truly be sure of what’s necessary for the tattoo to work and what’s just artificial flourish, though with Lycion I feel like it’s implied that there’s nothing in his tattoos trying to hide in the meaning. It’s also interesting to note that magical tattoos can have random patterns added without it interfering with the tattoo’s purpose. Is it the placement that make them harmless, or that they mean nothing in tattoo magic so it’s like an extra useless line of code that doesn’t get processed? Or is it that once your tattoo is done the meaning of it is sealed, and even if you were to fully cover it up in a solid black square of ink it wouldn’t do a thing? No clue, but it’s all very curious.

Other stuff they look like

A buddy pointed out that one of the recurring patterns looks a lot like DNA strands. Maybe the "dents" signify the different base pairs?? Probably verifiably untrue since that’d mean there would only be a few different type of dents, and also if they’re doing DNA sequencing that would be crazy, but doesn’t that just make you wonder… 👀 Tattoos are like a conduit for magic (mana? Which is also a sort of life force) so I do rlly like the idea that beastkin tattoos specialize in and target the DNA in the some way.

We never see the tattoos from up super close, but especially with Lycion’s the "dents"/characters remind me of norse runes a bit. Mostly because of the structure of straight lines and the simplicity of each character as far as I can tell. Runes being used in magic isn’t a new concept so I wouldn’t be surprised if Kui intentionally incorporated them into art/writing-based magic. Culturally it doesn’t fit well in with the elves as much, but a few of them do have old norse names. (And magic tattoos seem to be a very elven thing)

And another buddy also pointed out that with the characters being connected with a line it was reminiscent of the devanagari script. The elves have a good amount of indian coding, with names and some characters having bindis etc etc, so if intentional it’d be quite an interesting detail.

(Source for second one. I couldn’t find handwritten examples where there’s a clear line between characters much)

Oh- and if we continue the train of thought of indian coding, are reminiscent of henna! The brownish red color is especially on point.

Lastly and very much least, drawing lines that separate and denote body parts always remind me of the guidelines for butchers that people often point to and even draw on the animal when cutting. Since this is the cooking manga I wanted to put this in.

Oh yeah! I should mention that some of the tattoos, especially with the wererats and the lines going down the torsos, also remind me of dissection/vivisection scars/lines.

Theories

Magical tattoos are like a conduit for magic, is what is said. In case of beastkin tattoos, that makes me think it’s not that the tattoos are what keeps the extra soul bound to the body but that they’re what allows the human to freely shift between human and beastkin form, unlike Izutsumi who can’t because she doesn’t have tattoos. So thus the souls are merged with or without the tattoos, but the tattoos help control and reign back the extra soul and its influence both on the body and on the mind. Sort of like a seal. The soul is bound by and not bound in the tattoos. Filtering the animal soul out and not in. Close but not exactly the same theory is that the tattoos are what keep the souls separate, and if there weren’t tattoos the souls would just mix. So then the tattoos are less about control and more about separation itself.

But it depends a lot on the angle you look at it with. Like while some think the soul is within the tattoo, I think the soul is within the body but the tattoos help ‘circuit’ and control it. My friend is convinced that it’s the first and theorizes a lot around that, but I plan to mostly talk about my own take here bc I don’t find the arguments compelling personally. (Do prove me wrong if you can /gen)

We know from Lycion explaining the different beastkins that what animal you can merge with is dependent on size and stature, the build of the body, but the line where a body becomes incompatible with an animal is rather blurry. Nimble bodies become werewolves and beefier ones become werebears, and the only prospect for halflings are rats. We do also know that Izutsumi and assumedly a panther bonded just fine. Obviously, a rat and a halfling still aren’t anywhere the same size, so again the line or hard limit is blurry. My take is that this is because the bodies have to shift between human and beastkin, the transformation has to not strain the body too much. If you try to transform a square into a circle, the muscles and skeleton might really struggle to adapt if not even just mess up. Lycion talks about the physical (and mental strains) in the pics below. Beastkins that don’t have tattoos and are permanently fused like Izutsumi might have more of a wriggle room since they don’t have to transform to and back regularly? But yeah if the animal and human bodies aren’t compatible enough maybe the body would collapse, or just be incredibly painful, who knows. It’s a bit terrifying to imagine what the failed soul bindings and shiftings must have been like when developing all this know how of the magic and what does and doesn’t work. Besides height, general size and body type, the amount of fat of a person might matter, like maybe for werebears. Healing and resurrection magic does take fat away from the body so maybe transformations would be a necessary cost on top of the mana? Or just be needed to form muscles, fur, etc? But yes from the examples we saw I feel like maybe werebears need fat, weretigers need musculature, wererats need to be on the nimble side, and then werewolves have loose requirements? More like ideals than requirements, I really doubt a fat wererat is impossible for example.

My main theory is that the tattoos are more about the transformation than binding the soul to the body, right. For example places that have a lot of tattoos and lines circling around limbs are ankles and lower legs, which with animal leg structures would get changed a lot during the transformation, bones and all. So the artistic parts are more about the tattoo artist’s will and about what parts of the animals are important or require more change while shifting, rather than it being a depiction of the soul’s essence or something like that. As support I think the pictures below referring to the physical strain of being a beastkin are relevant.

With this sort of tattoo magic, it’s a gut reaction to think that maybe there’s a special magical ink used. I doubt it, I feel like if the type of ink was a big component of how the magic works Kui would have mentioned it. There are some tattoos that are black like Otta’s iirc, but all the others are generally red so that could be support to that theory. The patterns evidently do matter a lot, so I don’t think it’s implausible that the patterns on their own are enough to fulfill their purpose. There’s also how "[the tattoos] are like a conduit", so I don’t think the tattoos cost or give mana but rather they, well, conduit the mana that’s in the body to be as efficient as possible or to fulfill certain specific tasks, like transforming, / lifting the wall between you and the animal soul bound to you.

Sigh how the hell does tattoo magic even work. "The tattoos are like a circuit" SURE but the symbols have to still mean something right… But then how does adding random patterns to camouflage the tattoos come into play without affecting the meaning, and if there’s an artistic or varying aspect to it and tattoos differ from one individual to the other for the same purpose then maybe it just isn’t a strict magic at all? I do find it fun that we don’t really know the underlying principles of the magic so it’s hard to even know how it activates and whatnot. Going back to tattoos being able to have extra patterns tattooed on top of it without it affecting the performance of the tattoo... But yes I do lean towards the explanation that as long as the extra patterns don’t mean anything they don’t interfere. But like if you just drew a line over the character/symbols/dents would it register that and stop working, or no? The limits are all so blurry… Here’s to hoping the world guide book 2 has info on it!! Readying myself to either get full face slapped or to have "I told you so" bragging rights.

Theoretically, it should be possible to bind two human souls together, or a monster soul. Izutsumi and Lycion’s souls are called feline and canid monsters iirc, but that’s like calling a panther a monster, I wonder if an actual monster from a dungeon’s soul would be more unstable to bind and to shift into… Monsters can leave dungeons, but I wonder about The Demon’s influence on them, like how he’s able to manipulate at will Kensuke, maybe it’s as long as a monster is in a dungeon? That could potentially be sooo bad for the monster beastkin. Wild speculation though, and I imagine being a human-human beastkin would be super extra mega taboo, I wonder if it’s ever even been tried according to elven records. This is the section that was important for my dunmeshi oc lol, evidently I think tattoo magic is very interesting so I want to explore the limits of it with ocs, a tattoo artist trying more and more ambitious projects and soul like a lovecraftian protagonist learning about what should be left unknown, and a dude who really wants to be More Than Human and divine almost with identity issues that decides to take on like 6 different souls. If you’re interested here’s the dude, still a huge wip tho.

I think it’s important to remember that tattoos are used for different magic and effects too, not limited to beastkins.

Edit 10/2/‘24 oh hey a leak, neat

Other non-beastkin tattoos

I know that I didn’t point out every detail and difference ever, like in that magical tattoos extra with the halfbody person those assumedly aren’t beastkin tattoos even if I included it in the main pic, and how the bust in that same picture has a line of characters around the neck without any line connecting them much like in the pictures below.

Which speaking of this is a good place to talk about different cultures having different systems or characters for magic? The torso of that guy in the upper right corner for example has very different patterns than what I’d have expected with the beastkin tattoo examples. And of course, Izutsumi’s tattoo…

Izutsumi’s tattoos support that the characters/symbols are the most meaningful and important part. Also goes against the assumption that the elven written magic system is because the symbols communicate with the spirits better, since well, they seem to understand japanese just fine. Maizuru’s written magic is said to be akin to gnomic magic, and she reminds me of irl onmyodo a lot. Like many other types of magic, different regions, people and cultures find different ways to practice their version of it.

And here with Otta, what I said earlier about her tattoo being ink and her tattoos not really seeming magical imo, maybe except the ones around her forearms.

#Dungeon meshi #meta #Analysis #theories #dungeon meshi worldbuilding #This is it for the tags ig. Pretty dry and quick for once #will edit in new stuff as I go if I find or brainstorm more #Compilation #If u have stuff to add on pls do. Can’t promise a response though #delicious in dungeon

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anemonelovesfiction · 5 months

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Kinktober 12- Fingering

Ao’nung x Human Fem Reader

Warnings ⚠️: The title gives it away, soulmate AU (matching tattoo’s)

Honestly just happy you guys enjoy my writing ❤️ thank you for your likes, comments, and reblogs, they make me incredibly happy and I look forward to seeing them☺️

I can’t remember if I proofread it but don’t be afraid to call out any mistakes :)

Word Count: 2.1K

I was born on Pandora like the rest of the kids here, scientists got horny and decided to have children, there was no effective birth control they could create and a new generation of humans had been born. Spider was the first of us, I was the second, and with us being born came a new wave of soulmate tattoo’s permanently imbedded in all our wrists. Something so special to the Na’Vi had started showing up on all of us, meaning the all mother must have had special plans for us or even saw us as her children.

I have no idea if Neytiri’s tattoo of Jake’s name had been in English or in Na’vi and at this point, knowing how she had been toward Spider, I had been afraid to ask but I couldn’t help and wonder if this had been something she often kept covered as a teenager, believing she had been rejected by the all mother due to the incomprehensible symbols on her wrist, and therefore believing she did not having a soulmate?

They did, however, keep their children’s wrists covered from the moment of their birth up until the moment they passed their iknimaya. Sure every kid had their curiosity and peeked under the band, but the name had been something kept a secret, some parents wouldn’t even take a look as they did not want to influence themselves to play matchmaker with their friends, it had been something they took seriously, a blessing from Eywa that their perfect match had been out there.

To be completely honest I hadn’t even known they wrote things down, or that they had a written vocabulary as they often spoke of their history, used the song chord to keep track of their lives, it wasn’t new to me that the tattoo on either wrist meant it was the name of your soulmate. Had this meant that the letters of my name littered themselves across a Na’vi’s wrist in English, or was it written in their language so they could understand it, did that specific Na’vi think they had been cursed had the letters been in symbols they had yet to understand? I’d purposely avoided wanting anything to do with learning the Na’vi written language due to the fear of rejection, had the specific person known it was their name they could decide what my fate would be.

There were three options. They could reject me flat out and reveal themselves as my soulmate, they could ignore me completely without having told me a thing and I’d die alone, and the highly unlikely scenario in which they’d want to have me for themselves and actually go through with being with me their entire lives. But all of that had been thrown out the window the moment Spider and I had been captured by his reincarnated father- which threw the both of us in a loop after he’d shared who he was- all of that shit had been left field, and we’d finally ended up with the Metkayina.

Due to suffeirng from foot-in-fucking-mouth disease, Lo’ak had blurted out to the people they often hung out with, that I could not read in Na’Vi, and that my soulmate was also Na’Vi. I had been given a bracelet, decorated with traditional Omatikaya colors and pattern, that I had yet to take off of my wrist from the moment Neteyam had made one for me, knowing I would want nothing more than to hide it. Even if Tuk had been young, she’d known how sensitive the topic was for me, and slapped the back of Lo’ak’s head from being a loud mouthed bitch- her words, not mine.

I’d kept a close eye on the bracelet he’d made me and assured it was tied around my wrist as tightly as possible, while allowing room for circulation, which was tricky considering riding on an Ilu- especially with Lo’ak or Neteyam, that shit loosened up every time. But with my close observation it remained intact and on my wrist, effectively covering my tattoo.

Until we’d all been huddled around the cook fire, the same group of people who hung out together sitting closely to one another, Kiri’s gasp breaking us all out of the concentration we’d all been in while listening to one of the guys talking about whatever it was they felt like sharing. All eyes had followed hers and like every other time, I’d been the last one to follow what they’d been doing, noticing my wrist had been handing something to her, vulnerably showing everyone what my tattoo had said, my eyes widened as I immediately look on the sand to find my bracelet and feeling my arm being tugged in another direction.

_________

Big hands had currently been forcing my thighs to stay open even while I attempted to shut them on his face, I’d been feeling overstimulated at the moment but his tongue continued to dance around my clit as if it had choreographed an entire show, I was on the verge of yet another orgasm and weakly attempted to push his forehead away, all while my hips pushed closer to him. I suck in a breath and throw my head back in frustration at my failed attempt, the coil in my stomach had tightened even more and I knew I was closer to release, a chuckle coming out of the mouth of the bastard who was currently eating me out.

“Ao’nung!” I whisper-yelled at the teal man below me, another quiet moan slips past my lips without wanting to, compelled to stop fighting as soon as his eyes shoot up through his thick lashes to meet mine, my knee’s growing weak at the sight. I couldn’t see his mouth as he was keeping it busy, but from the look in his eyes I could tell he had been smirking, feeling his fingers prod at my entrance, not bothering to tease any longer and sliding them in. I’d had two orgasms previous and the third one was right at the cusp, his fingers working diligently, he was insatiable at this moment and seemed to be doing what he wanted- not that I could complain as my hips buck upward to meet the teasing thrusts of his fingers.

I could feel the coil in my lower belly just about to give in, but his mouth detaches from my already soaked cunt, biting his lip as he focuses on his fingers being swallowed, and yet all I could do was attempt to wiggle my hips further, upset at his fingers retracting. Another whine had built itself in my throat and I look down to see him looking through his lashes and into the depths of my soul, completely forgetting he’d attached his kuru to the base of my skull and that he could feel everything I was feeling at the moment. I clench around his fingers subconsciously at the thought of how close we were at this time, his eyes were hazed with lust and longing, I could only imagine what my face looked like.

“You look gorgeous on my fingers, yawntu.” In the time I’d gotten lost staring at his eyes, he’d managed to meet my face with his own, his fingers working me closer to the edge without allowing me the satisfaction of coming, fingers pushing up against a specific spot and I could feel the waves of euphoria getting stronger, but not enough to crash over me. I grunt right as his lips meet mine and effectively muting the sound, feeling his opposite hand lightly pushing my thigh apart as his other continued its ministrations.

“Don’t stop-“ I’d grunted as his thrusts pick up their speed, my eyes closing on instinct as I bite my lip to keep from making too much noise, marui’s were considered their homes, but nobody had to tell me it was obvious you could hear every sound -there are gaping holes everywhere- I didn’t need to be the one human ruining it for everyone. My own gasp brings me back to the present feeling his fingers pushing harder, he’d been squatting on his toes while attempting a third orgasm out of me -which wasn’t that far behind- but from the angle I was at I could see he was hard under his loincloth, but he’d been too busy focusing on my cunt to care about himself, and who was I to mess with his concentration?

I’d wanted nothing more than to allow myself to moan, but considering our circumstances and how close we were to everyone else, I settled for short and fast pants, it was near impossible to keep any noise down with how well he’d been treating me and the sting overstimulation had only been temporary, being drowned out by the pleasure I was feeling at the moment. I was starting to feel myself spiral in my own head and felt like I needed something to hold on to, previously I’d been holding on to his pretty hair and accidentally pressing my nails into his scalp, but with nothing in reach for me to hold on I’d started slightly thrashing in the floor of our marui, but I’d rather do this than be loud.

“I want to see you come on my fingers.” My eyes snapped open -barely- at how low his voice had sounded only to realize he’d been too focused on my pussy to realize he’d said anything. I’d taken note he’d often speak without realizing he’d said anything at the moment until someone- usually Tsireya- called him out on whatever bullshit he’d said, ironically most of it was usually aimed at Spider and me. A whine sneaks past my mouth and one of my hands comes up to reach just as one of his hands come to squeeze the sides of my neck, staring right at me, eyes begging me to come.

“M’coming-“ I struggle to whisper and stated quite breathless before feeling my eyes shut again, a blinding white vision coming behind them as his fingers rub against the spot he had been assaulting this entire time. I could feel an insane amount of energy flowing through my body as I orgasmed and was surprised at how quiet I’d been, biting my own lip and thankful enough to not draw blood, allowing the waves to crash over my body silently. It kind of felt like when someone stretches in the morning, their limbs are spread wide and are on the verge of getting a Charlie-horse, minus the loud groan accompanying it.

Slowly but surely my senses start coming back to me and I could feel my body had been run through the ringer, I felt exhausted and energized at the same time, although a feeling of shock was coursing through me and it had taken a bit to remember that I had been attached to my husband, opening my eyes and seeing his shocked expression fitting the emotion I felt through our bond. I look down toward where he had been staring and it takes a second for me to realize there were droplets of something wet running along the length of his arm and some on his knees, my own eyes widening slightly at the sight, slowly reaching his stare -as he had found it in himself to look up- and realizing I was sharing the same shocked expression.

“What was that?” He asked and the amusement was clear as day in his voice, feeling a million thoughts starting to run through my head, although I was certain most of them had been his own. I shake my head a bit to rid myself of the disorganized chaos that had started flooding my brain to try and understand the predicament we were in, distinctly remembering that I may have done this one other time, but not remembering what it had been or even felt like when it happened before, but this one had definitely made me feel like I needed twelve business days to recover from.

“I need to see you do that again.” His eyes darkened as he said that and I could feel myself start to squirm with excitement, but hissing slightly at the sting of overstimulation, I was definitely in for it tonight and it was already late as fuck, were we ever going to get the sleep we needed to keep up with our busy day tomorrow?

_________

#avatar #avatar smut #avatar the way of water smut #afab reader #human reader #avatar the way of water #lunaskinktober2023 #aonung #aonung x reader #aonung x reader smut

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kenananamin · 7 months

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🫧 Bubbles with you 🫧

After a random video on your feed, you tell Nanami about the last time you blew bubbles and played with a hula hoop. Nanami wants to replace your last bubble memory and prepares these things in the backyard to let you play your childhood games again. But this time, you are no longer playing by yourself.

fluff fluff fluff, sad childhood but fluff fluff, boyfriend nanami being the best

Nanami is twirling your hair, lets it go to run his fingers through it, then twirls it again. You’re laying down on his bare chest and scrolling on your phone. You both said you were tired after dinner but things went as they usually do once you’re both in the room.

First, he had leaned in to kiss your shoulder while you took out your clothes from the dresser, then he turned you around after you closed the drawer and kissed you against it. You gave in, as you do every single time and now you’re both in bed, simply enjoying each others presence.

You always tilt your phone so he can see everything on your feed and he occasionally comments on a post or video. You scroll to a video of a few kids blowing bubbles while rollerblading. You smile at the wholesome video but you stay on the same video so it’ll replay.

Nanami notices since you usually only replay videos that have you cackling or on the verge of tears. His hair twirling slows down a bit. He didn’t hear you laughing hysterically so were you…?

You put your phone down beside him and prop up your chin on your hand, still on Nanami’s chest. Nanami waits for you to talk, noticing your eyes weren’t glossy.

“When was the last time you blew a bubble?”

“What?” Nanami asks, a bit in disbelief. He chuckles and continues, “I’m not sure when exactly, but I was a kid, maybe a teenager at most.”

You think for a bit after his response.

“I can remember the last time I blew a bubble. I didn’t know it’d be my last, but I can remember it.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it,” Nanami puts an arm behind his head to look at you a bit better. He’s genuinely interested in listening to you and his signature soft smile slowly extends on his lips.

You go on to tell him about your last bubble adventure. Bubbles and hula hoops. They were two very specific symbols of your childhood. Whenever you felt uncomfortable or anxious at home, you’d step right outside the front door and play by yourself. It wasn’t the happiest time at home so you preferred to play outside by yourself as your small escape. After an explosive argument between your parents when you were ten, you went outside to blow your bubbles and play with your hula hoop. You didn’t know it at the time, but that night would change every single night after that. One of your parents moved out while you were asleep and when you tried to play with your bubbles the next day, you just didn’t want to… or couldn’t? You sat in front of the bubbles and stared at the bottle, but eventually just stood up and kicked it across the front patio. You never opened the bottle again or picked up the hula hoop. They were tossed eventually, you didn’t know when exactly, but you could remember the last bubble night.

You look at Nanami after the story. Nanami’s smile was gone but his eyes remained soft and his hand returned to your hair, slowly running his fingers through it.

“I wish you had a better bubble memory,” Nanami says softly.

You smile at him and lie back down, “It’s ok. Everything’s ok now and I like seeing other kids play with bubbles.”

Nanami wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head. He traces lazy swirls on your back and feels your breathing even out as you drift off. He makes a mental note of bubble packs and adult hula hoops.

———

That weekend, you head out to pick up dinner for movie night. Nanami looks out the living room window to check for your car and sprints to the garage after checking you’ve driven off. He grabs the small box in the corner and reaches underneath his car for a couple hula hoops. Hiding two adult sized hula hoops and moving them around the house has been the hardest thing he’s done in a while.

He runs to the backyard and drops everything on the patio table. He starts his decorating by connecting the twinkle lights you insisted on putting up a couple months ago and begins emptying the box. Two 4-packs of bubbles and decorative tape for the hula hoops. He grabs your hula hoop, in your favorite color of course, and starts wrapping the sparkly tape around it, making sure to leave space between the tape to let the color peek through. He knows he can buy designed hula hoops but he wanted to make yours. Your one of a kind hula hoop by your boyfriend Nanami.

He finishes your hula hoop and grabs a couple bottles of the bubbles. Nanami puts the same sparkly tape around the center of the bottles and crooked smiley faces on the caps with the same tape.

He checks his watch and knows he won’t have enough time to fully decorate his own. He grabs his own hula hoop and starts to wrap the circumference of the hula hoop with one single line.

“Hey siri, open the Find My app,” Nanami leans towards his phone to check your location while he finishes the last few inches of his single line.

Shit, shit, shit, Nanami could see that you were about to turn into the house and quickly cuts the tape.

He runs back inside to grab a couple drinks from the fridge and goes to meet you at the front door. His heart is beating fast and he hopes and prays that you like his surprise instead of the usual movie night.

He smiles and wiggles the drinks in front of him as soon as you open the door.

“Oooh, meeting me at the door with drinks? I could get used to this Ken, don’t spoil me,” you laugh at his puppy like behavior.

Nanami takes the bag of food from you and you take one of the drinks. You follow Nanami out the entryway but he continues to walk towards the back door. Nanami hears your footsteps pause and turns around to tell you to follow him. You giggle and follow him.

Nanami starts spreading out the food on the patio table and you stop completely once you see what else is on the table. Nanami turns around with a now empty bag and motions towards the table, “Ta da!”

You smile, but you’re a little confused at the bubbles and hula hoops… and is that sparkly tape?

Nanami steps closer to you and grabs your hand. “I was thinking that we should make new bubble memories. Play together and maybe even compete to see who can blow the most bubbles,” he smiles and looks up to your watery eyes, “aaaand I’ve been practicing with the hula hoop for a few days while you’re showering or napping.”

You laugh but you feel the tears threatening to spill out. Your sweet, kind, thoughtful boyfriend had set this up for you. The man who barely smiled at first had bought sparkly tape and slowly wrapped a thin hula hoop with his big hands. You laugh again and this time a couple tears go down your cheeks.

Nanami puts his hands on your cheeks to wipe the tears. He kisses the tip of your nose then your lips and says, “You’re not gonna play alone again. Even if I look absolutely ridiculous and out of place, it would be my pleasure to blow bubbles with you and play with hula hoops together.”

Together. Not alone. Your little escape with Nanami. Your inner child jumps at the thought of blowing bubbles with someone else. Jumping around and popping them while someone else blows them. But not just anyone. Nanami. Nanami blowing the bubbles and you jumping around, you blowing the bubbles and Nanami reaching up to pop them. Nanami. Blowing bubbles with Nanami.

You nod and rub your face against your boyfriend’s hands. He kisses you again softly and leads you to the table.

“Then let’s hurry and eat so we can play,” he pulls out a chair for you and you sit while looking over his sparkly tape designs.

“I can’t wait to show you how long I can keep my hula hoop up for,” Nanami excitedly sits in his chair and motions for you to start eating.

“I can’t wait to see how many bubbles you can blow,” you smile at him, “I used to be able to cover my patio in bubbles!”

His tender smile graces his lips. He reaches for your hand, “I can’t wait to see that, darling. I’d love nothing more.”

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insightfulllama · 11 months

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ANYWAY HERE’S A MASSIVE LIST OF OBSERVATIONS AND THOUGHTS FROM REWATCHING THE CABIN VOD AHAHAHAHA

(Spoilers)

The first thing Ranboo clearly says is, “It wasn’t supposed to…be like this…” They are very disoriented and confused, verging on distress.

When the mask turns on, they panic and yell “no” several times, before standing and going, “Where am I?” and “This place sure looks weird!” in the NPC voice. I believe he knew something was wrong and was able to scream, but not anything more before they took full control.

The NPC behavior isn't as obvious as it is in "Warehouse", but I definitely see it now that I'm looking for it. Pretty unsettling.

Ranboo checks locations they had already looked at before the mask turned on. (The door, the bookshelf, the ashes, etc)

Ranboo can see us, but with the masks influence we appear as a “weird painting”.

When he is flipping through the magazines and waiting for chat to decide where they go, he says, “These are just old pajamas.” I think that’s what they say, I have no idea what it means.

When Ranboo first goes to look at the window, he bends out of frame and messes with something (I think the VHS’s) and says, “Those don’t seem too important.” Pretty interesting considering he later uses a VHS to communicate with the one trying to get him out. (Showfalls influence?)

He’s complained about his head hurting twice now, I think this may become a pattern

They find a set of teeth in the drawer

The red key is IN the red bat- mirroring how the key is in Slimecicle later? Did he have to dig into a dead animal to get it here as well and we just didn’t see it because of the mask?

Ranboo’s spacial awareness seems impaired. He doesn’t know where Slime went because he can’t directly see him. This happens again later with Sneeg, Ranboo looking the entirely wrong way when Sneeg calls out. Both Slime and Sneeg call attention to this- “It’s a house, there’s door frames! How did you get inside if you do not know what a door is?” and “How do you not hear me?...How did you look over there, man?”

JUST realized the key colors match the “characters” we’ve been introduced to. (The Savior, The Taken, The Villain) I don’t know if there’s further symbolism connected to where the keys are found and stuff but it’s pretty neat.

When Slime does the pinkie swear promising that Ranboo can leave after he does the cooking challenge, they have their fingers crossed behind their back.

Slimy Guts is one of the available ingredients, bit sus considering our new knowledge. Also chinese leftovers got 0% of the votes LOL

The random cutaways are kinda strange. Don’t know what to make of them.

Ranboo uses a pretty big knife to open a little package of slime, is instructed to “beat up” the food and call it names, and later he offers to cut Slime off the floor when he gets stuck. I think there’s a good chance ranboo stabbed someone and made a meal with their guts. Or something in that vein. (Several times Ranboo points out that these aren’t REAL ingredients and he doesn’t know how someone could eat it. What’s happening is probably so horrifying that he can’t imagine it as something normal like chicken, so his brain is substituting with stuff that’s weird but TECHNICALLY not morally reprehensible.)

Fridge says “BEHIND YOU” on it

Gummy worm was in the freezer, body parts can be kept in freezers, idk

Someone really likes mayo, cause they stopped it when it was on the turntable and gave the camera a thumbs up

Slime tries the meal but he’s really reluctant and needs specific circumstances to do it. If the theory of the meal being human guts it true, the hesitation probably didn’t have anything to do with airplane noises…

What is in the backgrounds of these cutaways? It’s so blurry idk, I can’t tell. It’s sort of purply.

The dish in the end turns to slime with all the possible ingredients mixed in, even the ones we didn’t pick. In universe it reinforces that our choices don’t really matter, from a meta perspective it’s probably so they only had to make one slime prop.

The timing of the marshmallow string stretching as slime tries to feed ranboo is HYSTERICAL, golden comedic timing

The mask starts blinking when ranboo gets the tape message.

The person on tape instructs Ranboo “not to resist”. I believe this is said in the second message as well. Perhaps they don’t want Ranboo drawing attention to themself

Like in the room they woke up in, Ranboo checks areas multiple times, seemingly with no memory of the first time he checks. He does the exact same “flashlight in the eyes” gag each time he picks it up. It really enforces that in this moment he is a puppet, not making his own choices.

“What’s over here?” NPC!Ranboo back in full swing with this dialogue.

Ranboo did the cooking game, Sneeg didn’t. Sneeg refused to kill? Maybe cause he didn’t have a mask? Hmmm idk

The baby skull on a background shelf has a MASSIVE forehead

Light starts flickering when slime appears

What does the fight between evil sneeg and ranboo mean? Maybe they were both trapped and had a fight?? What does it mean without the obscuring mask?

Ranboo is able to get sneeg out of slimes influence, and sneeg says a few times afterward that he’s immune now. Ranboo can help people get out of Showfalls influence? (The gooey hat does bring Sneeg out of the influence later, extension of that Ranboo effect?)

When Sneeg looks to see if Slime is in the box, there is a “shhhh” sound effect

Sneeg says Frank is his eyes and ears- was Frank a whistleblower, feeding information about Showfall to the outside? Unsure

Goo chest- possibly full of human bits? Corpse in a trunk is a pretty common trope

Jello on the shelves of Slime’s room

Same picture that was on the fridge is in a frame on the table

Ranboo looks at the mirror the same way twice, reinforcing the NPC vibes

Another false choice- the story only progresses if you go to sleep. Talking to Sneeg only gets some more NPC dialogue. Most of sneeg’s other dialogue sounds genuine, so this is strange.

Sneeg seems unable to move or act while ranboo is asleep

Could the eight hours that passed be literal? If things are obstructed by the mask it very well could be

“You would have known had you been awake!” Before the reveal of the mask making things look different I thought the streams were going to be revealed to be a dream. Clearly it’s not entirely a dream, but this dialogue is still fun.

SHARK PICKLE LOBSTER TIME!! What would this be in real life? An actual human experiment? Security dogs? Full on hallucination?

This is a pretty funny way to promote the merch honestly lol (referring to ranboo using his merch to trick the thing into cage)

Ranboo seems baffled by his idle fighting animation for a second. He says, “Why am I just standing here? What’s going…” and when the camera pulls back the mask is flickering.

When Slime sends his ghouls to grab Ranboo I believe he tries to move out of the way. They kind of jerk a bit, like they're trying to move their feet, before saying, “Why can’t I just- get out of here? I just need to get out of here-” The mask is once again flickering during this

After the fight the mask starts flickering a LOT, plus the other lights in the cabin. Tv comes back on.

The TV man is named Hetch? He says, “My name is-” I think he says Hetch? Unsure

Mans gets drugged up at the end, rip

#I was thrown off and not really vibing with genloss cause i went in expecting horror from the start #but now the reveal has happened and my brain is INFECTED with OBSESSION WORMS #generation loss #genlosscabin #generation loss cabin #generation loss warehouse #genlosswarehouse #genloss spoilers #generation loss spoilers #crying and shaking over sneeg actually #ranboo says the ending has the option of being sort of happy please i am BEGGING ya'll to choose good options #might do another of these tomorrow for now i must sleep #I've stayed up way too late already

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parad-ice-lostandfound · 1 year

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Prompt:

Pairing: OM!Brothers and GN!MC

Genre: NA

TW: NA

“I’m telling ya, I didn’t steal it!”

“Then where is it Mammon?!”

“How would I know?!”

You sighed, massaging your forehead as an unfortunate witness to the argument. Levi and Mammon squabbling wasn’t a rare sight in the House of Lamentation; it was a regular enough occurrence that Lucifer merely sighed and ignored it as long as it didn’t turn physical. However, the reason for this particular fight was something new. Something that didn’t have to do with Levi’s loaned money or Mammon’s schemes. The reason why the second-born and third-born were yelling at each other had to do with you; specifically, a ring you had lost a few hours back.

It was an heirloom that you had inherited, a present from your guardian on your eighteenth birthday. It was to symbolize your coming of age, they had said with tears in their eyes. Apparently, it had been in the family for centuries, and your guardian had made you swear that you would take care of it like your ancestors had before. But when you live a crazy, hectic life like yours, things are bound to get misplaced every once in a while.

You never really wore the ring unless it was a special occasion, but you were feeling particularly homesick today. So you had removed it from its box, intending to wear it for some time before keeping it back. As silly as it may sound, the ring soothed your longing for the Human Realm whenever it got too bad.

“I swear I didn’t take it!” Mammon’s tone of indignation brought your attention back to the present. Realizing that you needed to stop the two of them before Levi summoned Lotan or something, you stood. One movement from you was enough for both the demons to fall silent, two pairs of eyes watching you carefully. Clearing your throat, you smiled at the two. “Let’s not fight anymore, alright? I’m sure Mammon’s not lying. It should be in the house, so let’s start searching for it. We shouldn’t be wasting our time like this,” you reasoned, earning a huff from both parties.

And so started the search for the ring. You had given them a brief description of how it looked since neither of them had seen you wear it before. Soon the rest of the brothers were roped in to search for it as well, each one turning a section of the HOL upside down in search of the piece of jewellery.

Your hand brushed against something cold and metal as it dived between sofa cushions. Hope flared in your chest as you felt around to grab and pull it out.

You smiled at the lost ring which now sat in the palm of your hand. “I found it!” your voice rang out, bringing your beloved demons to where you were to get a glimpse.

None expected to see the ring they’d gifted to Lilith aeons ago.

Lucifer

Out of everyone, Lucifer is the most surprised. He stands still while his brothers show varying levels of disbelief and confusion. It’s only after his brain has realized that yes, it is indeed Lilith’s ring, and is reminded that he still needs to ask you where you got it from that he finally tells the others to shut up.

Listens attentively as you explain that it was a family heirloom. His eyes never leave you, and it’s honestly kinda unnerving how he doesn’t even blink while you speak.

Recollects how it was given to Lilith when she got her second pair of wings. Actually, didn’t Belphie and Beel have rings that matched with this one-?

Has a fond smile on his face when Belphie brings their rings and everyone sits down to admire the jewellery and talk about good times in the Celestial Realm.

Mammon

Mammon sucks in a breath when he sees the ring in your palm, the light glinting off the metal. Platinum, his mind supplies, as memories of him going through different kinds of metals to get the best one surface. Doesn’t even realize when his eyes fill with tears as he is reminded of his late sister.

Apart from a small gasp, Mammon doesn’t really make a sound for the first few minutes. Once he’s had enough time to reminisce, he starts firing the questions. Where did you get it? Why didn’t you tell him about it? Did you know it belonged to Lilith?

Mammon immediately recognizes the ring because not only had he selected the metal, he had also designed it with Asmo and Levi’s help. He remembered making two more, one for Beel and one for Belphie.

Sits down beside you, asking before taking the ring and examining it. Once he’s made sure that it was taken care of and cherished, he gives it back to you, uncharacteristically quiet as he leans against you while his youngest brothers get their own rings and everyone sits down to talk about the good old days.

Leviathan

Leviathan isn’t sure at first that it is the same ring that was gifted to Lilith. But after looking at Mammon and Lucifer’s reactions, he is convinced. He would relate this to an anime, but he’s just busy thinking about those days, back when his sister was alive and he was a general of the Celestial Realm.

A familiar feeling takes hold of him. He has lost so much; his position, his sister, his grace.

So why do you get to have something to remember her by? Lilith was his sister. He should have the ring, or at least one of his brothers. After all, he helped with making it…

Levi slowly removes himself from the scene, choosing to go back to his room to sulk at the unfairness of the situation. It’s only after he’s thought things through and realized that he’s not only hurting you but also disrespecting Lilith’s memory by acting this way that he leaves his room. He finds you and apologizes for his behaviour, but doesn’t tell you what exactly had gotten him into a bad mood before.

Satan

Satan has a vague knowledge of who the ring used to belong to. Lucifer’s shared memories tell him that much. However, he is intrigued as to how you got hold of it.

Doesn’t really hound you with questions, but instead listens to explain how it was a family heirloom and you had no idea that it had once belonged to Lilith.

Feels kinda out of place, since the rest of the brothers start talking about the Celestial Realm and debates whether to go back to his reading, before feeling your hand on his. He looks up to see you smiling at him, almost as if to make sure he knows that just because he was formed after the Fall, that doesn’t make him any less a part of the family.

Stays for your sake, listening to his brothers talk about how and why they made the rings.

Asmodeus

Asmo’s first reaction to seeing the ring is “Ooh, pretty ring. This reminds me of one we made… for Lilith..”

Once he finds out that it’s the same ring, he takes it from you and inspects it carefully. No, he’s not implying that you didn’t take good care of it MC, he just wants to see it’s in good shape.

Honestly proud of his work. Yeah, yeah, Levi and Mammon helped as well, but he did design the thing you know? And it lasted for so long, that means his craftsmanship was impeccable.

Gets excited when Belphie and Beel bring their rings and regales you with tales from their time in the Celestial Realm.

Beelzebub and Belphegor

Beel and Belphie instantaneously recognise the ring in your hand. After all, they had the matching set stashed away safely in their room.

Both have very similar reactions to seeing the ring. The twins both feel a bit of regret and guilt, but that’s chased away as soon as it comes. Asmo’s enthusiastic suggestion to get the other two rings helps with that, and Belphie surprisingly volunteers to go bring them.

Belphie, being the little shit he is, remarks that now the three of you can match as he hands Beel his ring and wears his own. You wear the ring to humour him, and that starts a playful argument between the remaining brothers.

While the others are distracted, Beel asks you and Belphie to hand him the rings. You do so, and the sixth born shows you something you hadn’t noticed before. Engraved, on the inside of each ring, is a phrase. Beel’s says ‘The sun’, Belphie’s says 'The moon’, and yours says, 'The stars’.

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kyriethesquishysquid · 4 months

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The Friendly Ghosty (Ghostface/Female Reader)

Summary: Reader comes home from a long day at work just to be accosted by a man in a Ghostface mask at her door. Things quickly go “downhill” from there.

Word count: ~3k

Rating: Mature

A/N: This is literally just all smut, nothing else. I was inspired by a recent dream I had involving a Ghostface cosplayer. Thus, we get some lovely, dark, masked man sex. I hope y’all enjoy! There is no backstory, but it’s made clear at the end that Ghostface and the reader have some kind of pre-established relationship, and the entire scene is consensual. P.S. This is a non-canon Ghostface, so they can look anything like you wish. His only descriptor is that he is tall.

TW: PLEASE READ NEW TAGS. THEY’RE IMPORTANT FOR POSSIBLE TRIGGERS!

Consensual Dub-Con roleplay, dom/sub roles, breath play, knife play, fear play, oral (male receiving), fingering, pet names (specifically rabbit/bunny used a lot), dumbification, praise/degradation, some overstimulation, some aftercare, breeding kink mentioned at the end.

“Home sweet home,” you muttered under your breath, fishing your keys from your purse.

It had been a surprisingly easy night at work, with tips galore and decent customers, and it had only gotten better when you’d stepped out into the cool autumn evening. The full moon had been a kind friend guiding you down the short path from the diner back to your house, but you still couldn’t wait to bid her adieu, get inside, and take a nice hot bath. As the key slid into place, the sound of rushing footsteps suddenly sounded behind you but, before you could turn around, you felt a big hand covering your mouth and the bite of metal at your throat.

“Ah, ah, stay still. Wouldn’t want to hurt you now, would we?”

His words were muffled under the heavy pounding of your heart in your ears, but you understood just enough to manage a weak little nod. A sharp sting zipped through your senses and halted your motions immediately, your thoughts finally registering the fact you’d almost slit your throat open on his knife. His mocking laugh brought a warm heat across your cheeks.

“Oh, silly little bunny, let’s get you inside before you have an accident, hmm?” he urged, releasing your face to guide your frozen hand to the lock.

The next few minutes passed by in a blur. It was like you were only a passenger in your mind, observing yet not in control. The masked man was the one pulling the strings, instructing you to sit, stay quiet, and be a good “rabbit” as he moved about your home as if he had been here a million times.

Had he? That thought sent chills down your spine and some life back into your veins. Turning your head slowly, you watched him as he danced around the kitchen. The tall intruder was dressed in all black, a fitted black long-sleeved shirt and black pants, all put together with the infamous Ghostface mask over his head. He grabbed something from the fridge before immediately heading back your way. It wasn’t until he plopped down onto the plush loveseat catty-cornered to you that you finally spotted what he had.

A fucking water bottle

“What-”

“Uh-uh, no talking yet,” he quipped, tossing the bottle onto the cushion beside you, “Drink. I just know you didn’t drink water while you were working.”

Lifting one brow in confusion, you cautiously reached for the bottle, only to earn an annoyed sigh from the man.

“If I was going to hurt you, don’t you think I’d be more inventive about it than poisoning your water?” he asked blandly, lifting the blade you’d nearly forgotten about into the air symbolically.

You nodded once in understanding and popped off the cap, dutifully drinking half the bottle in one go.

“Good, now, get over here.”

For a second, you considered disobeying and demanding he tell you what he wanted until your gaze found the knife again. You weren’t sure how serious he was about using that thing, so, to air on the side of caution, you listened. The moment you were in front of him, he pointed to the floor before him without a word.

It was demeaning, treating you as if you were a dog, but you complied. The instant your knees touched the carpet, he was quick to undo his belt and pants.

“Been here for over an hour waiting for you to get home,” he grunted out, “You’re never late.”

Blinking in shock, you gaped up at him and asked, “What? How do you know-”

Fingers snarled in your hair and jerked you forward until your legs pressed into the base of the seat and you were nearly nose to hand with the fist jerking his cock.

“You really are clueless. You’re lucky it was me who chose you and not some psychopath,” he chuckled.

Yeah, okay. Like someone who knew your work schedule, put a knife to your neck, and threatened you to get a blowjob wasn’t a psychopath. Despite that, you couldn’t help but watch in mesmerization at how his hand moved, listening intently to the little breaths he let out with each pump.

“I know what you’re thinking. It’s written clear across your face,” he sighed, “The difference between me and them is that I don’t want to hurt you, not yet. Just listen like a good little bunny, and this will all go over smoothly.”

That shouldn’t have been hot, shouldn’t make you swoon, and sure as fuck shouldn’t make you want to suck his dick just to hear that praise again, Yet there was no denying the wet spot growing in your panties as you instinctively leaned in closer to him.

Just as you were about to pull back and shake some sense into yourself, he tugged you in by the hair until his dick was pressed against your closed lips.

“Come on now, rabbit, I’ve seen the things you do with that filthy mouth,” he sneered coolly, “Don’t get shy on me now.”

You threw a nasty glare his way before thinking better of it, and within half a second, his hand was around the knife and holding it against your throat.

“Mmm, see, that’s not what we’re going to do, alright?”

Swallowing hard, you let your eyes dance from his hand to his mask and back down before you whispered, “O-Okay.”

Parting your lips invitingly, you carefully leaned in as he drew the blade away and took his head into your mouth. The low groan he let out sent shivers down your spine. Fuck, why did he have to sound so hot? Shouldn’t a psychopathic killer sound and look as horrible at their insides? He cleared his throat and you quickly pushed yourself into motion. One hand balancing on his thigh, you wrapped the other around the base of his cock and began licking up and down the underside. As you traced every vein along his flesh, your mind began to wander to dangerous places where you were a little too into the situation. Were he not threatening your life, this would have almost been welcomed. He tasted good, felt good in your hand and against your tongue; heavy, thick, and filling.

“Enough teasing, let’s go, princess!”

The instant he was in your mouth, he gave you no leeway. Hands in your hair, he forced you down until your lips met your fist and his head pressed into the back of your throat. You reactively gagged and tried to pull back, only to get held down.

“Don’t quit on me now,” he huffed, “Move your hand.”

If your mouth were free, you’d spew the most vile curses his way. Instead, you did as asked and sucked in a quick breath right before he pushed you down again. There was no way you’d be able to take him entirely, but he seemed bound and determined to make it happen, each nudge of your skull pushing him down further until he straight up thrust into your throat with a hellish groan.

“Theeerrreee you go, rabbit. See, I knew you could do it,” he praised, voice breathless and growly in a way that had your thighs clenching.

In the next breath, you were forced back down until your nose almost touched his belly. He hardly gave you a second to breathe, simply using you to his pleasure as if you were nothing but a fucktoy. And gods did it ever feel fucking fantastic.

You heard your name muttered thickly between little grunts and groans at one point and it drew your eyes up to him, only to find that horrid mask staring you down.

“Mmm, good girl, look at me while I fuck your throat.”

A particularly rough thrust sent a painful ache through your muscles but drew an entirely different reaction from below, your pussy throbbing in want while tears dripped down your cheeks. As you slowly fell down the rabbit hole of subspace, you couldn’t help but get into the act, growing increasingly impatient to have him coming for you. You just knew he'd sound heavenly when he did.

“So fucking pretty when you’re crying for me. Just a little longer,” he rumbled, hand knotting tighter in your hair as he shoved you down again, “You can do that for me, can’t you?”

Through tears and sniffles, you nodded emphatically and symbolically opened your mouth wider, taking him in with ease. The taste of his precum filled your senses and you couldn't help but moan around him. Immediately, he thrust up and shoved onto the nape of your neck until he crushed your nose against his abdomen, his broken moan easily hiding your reflexive gag. You couldn't breathe but it didn't matter when you heard those devastated little whimpers pouring from his lips.

“Fu-uh-ck, that’s it, atta girl, right- right there, fuck fuck fuck.”

The praise did wonders for the carpet burning against your knees and the overpowering ache in your throat. You couldn’t help but wiggle in need, debating taking matters into your own hands until he moaned again. Fuck it, there was no way you were waiting. Spreading your knees further apart, you balanced better against his thigh and quickly shoved your other hand beneath your skirt and panties. The moment your fingers touched your clit, you nearly came, a stifled moan rumbling around his cock as you worked him over faster.

“Ah, shit, are you touching yourself, bunny? Sucking my cock got you that excited?”

A rough gag drowned out your response as he jerked your head up and shoved you down with a moan. The moment you felt the telltale throbbing of his cock and heard his moans pitch, you pulled back just enough to catch the entire load on your tongue and watched him in awe. You couldn’t see his face through the mask, but the way his head tipped back and his chest heaved with shuddering breaths- oh, that was almost just as good- though you hated that you could barely make out his muffled grunts and groans through the barrier.

Swallowing around his cock, you quickly pulled back and licked him completely clean.

“Sh-Shit, you-”

His words cut off with a harsh gasp when you took him into your mouth again. Your tongue swirled gently around his head before lapping up and down the underside of his cock. Seeing the way his gloved hands clenched and how his body shook in restraint, well, that was one hell of a drug.

“Enough.”

Before you could react, he fisted a handful of your hair tight and forced you to a stop.

“Get up here.”

A slight wince escaped as your knees popped and ached under the sudden change in position, but you let him guide you up into his lap. Before you could even get proper footing, he widened his thighs to spread yours and slipped his hand into your panties.

“H-Hey, y-”

Any argument you had died on your tongue the moment his fingers started rubbing your clit, the sensation of leather against your flesh startling but more than welcome. You nearly collapsed in on yourself at the sudden rush of pleasure, but he was quick to balance you with a firm hand on the shoulder.

“No falling now,” he jeered through a laugh.

“Sh-Shut u-uuuuup,” you stammered back, face flushing as his laughter only grew louder.

“Hmm? What was that? I couldn’t hear you over your moans.”

Grinding your teeth together, you fought through the waves threatening to overtake you and spit out, “Fuck you!”

A whine escaped your lips despite your best efforts when he suddenly stopped moving his fingers, having gone completely still and silent. It took everything in you, but you managed to open your eyes just to find that infamous white mask staring back at you, tilted in a cute and oddly threatening way.

“Wh-Why- Why did you stop?” you breathed out shakily.

“Wanna try that last sentence again?”

“What?”

He huffed a low sigh and withdrew his hand, wet fingers digging sharply into your cheeks and drawing your head up until you were eye-to-mask. You couldn’t help but grimace as he massaged your slick into your skin.

“I know you’re a dumb little bunny, but your ears work fine, don’t they? I said, do you want to try that last sentence again?”

Your mind went into overtime trying to figure out precisely what he meant, but finally, it clicked. Lips parting in disbelief, you gaped at him momentarily before a little scoff escaped.

“Because I said fuck you?” you asked for clarification.

“Could I mean anything else?”

God, that demeaning cocky attitude was gonna be the death of you. How could one human be so fucking… tempting?

“Uh,” you muttered to yourself, “Uhm, I’m sorry… for saying that?”

Though you couldn’t see his eyes through the mask, you could practically feel his gaze on you through the dark fabric. It was maddening. When he didn’t reply right away, you began to question if you had really and truly fucked up, but finally, he let out a chuckle.

“Good enough for now. I expect better in the future, understood?”

Nodding dumbly, you couldn’t help but wilt in relief when he finally released your face, your cheeks blooming with pain from the hold.

“Now, what are you going to say if I’m generous enough to touch you again?”

Your thoughts felt as slow as molasses from the subspace fog rolling in, but you whispered, “Thank you?”

“That’s right. Good girl.”

Face warming deep pink, you turned in an attempt to hide the embarrassing reaction, only to get a soft tap across the cheek.

“Look at me. Don’t you dare look away,” he demanded.

You swallowed hard but turned back to face him, eyes focusing on the chin of the mask rather than the eyes. Even through a mask, it was hard to imagine making eye contact with him.

“Fuck!”

Your shock was quickly silenced with a firm grip around your throat at the same time as his fingers hooked up into your cunt. Any attempt you made to form a sentence was ruined. Instinctively, the hand not currently pressed against his chest wrapped around his wrist and squeezed hard in an attempt to control the situation.

“What? You think you could actually stop me if I wanted to hurt you? That’s cute,” he snickered.

Before you could even begin to respond, his fingers squeezed uncomfortably tight to the point you couldn’t breathe. Fear flickered to life in your chest as reality set in. At the same time, a sick and twisted sensation of delightful devastation nestled warmly in your core, your cunt clenching around his fingers eagerly.

“Silly little thing,” Ghostface sighed patronizingly, “I could snap your neck before you even realized. You understand that, don’t you? That I hold your very life in my hands?”

You stupidly tried to swallow only to grimace at the pain before managing a stilted nod. It was getting harder to think, your emotions at war with your body. Despite the terrifying threat and the growing need for air becoming dangerous, that familiar pressure between your thighs was just as demanding. It wasn’t until darkness began to creep into the edges of your vision that you finally, cautiously, squeezed at his wrist twice in an attempt to convey that you were nearing the point of passing out.

“Need something?”

Embarrassment flamed your face red as tears spilled down your cheeks and your lower lip began to tremble, all while the slick sounds of your body’s betrayal filled the air. Out of nowhere, he loosened his grip, and you nearly came then and there.

“Ohmygod!”

Coughing and gasping for breath, you fell forward against him until your forehead was resting against his shoulder, your hands frantically clawing at his back as the sudden torrent of endorphins hit full force.

“Good girl, that’s right, fuck yourself on my fingers.”

It was impossible to refuse his command, your hips already instinctively grinding your clit against his palm in search of that ever-nearing end.

“Fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck, pl-please, yes!”

Your pleas were broken and raw but unmistakable nonetheless. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you registered the fact that your nails were likely leaving scratches across his back, but that part of your subconscious currently didn’t give a single fuck. The well-practiced motions of his hand were all that mattered now.

“Come on, then, be a good little bun and come for me.”

A sob escaped your lips and you instantly muffled your cries in his shoulder, teeth no doubt leaving deep marks in his flesh even through his shirt as everything finally coalesced. It was all so much: His voice, the sounds of your wet sex, how deep his fingers reached, the constant pressure against your sweet spots. You couldn’t even make out his words, but just hearing him talk you through it was enough to break the last barrier of your will and bring forth the tears again.

Sniffling and whining, you released your hold on his shoulder just to bury your face against his neck, singing brainless prayers of his name and the most unholy of curses.

“Fuck,” he groaned lowly.

His arm hooked around your back and held you tight as his fingers quickened, sending wave after wave of bliss through your veins and drawing out every last drop. It wasn’t until you were shoving against him, trembling and screaming for him to stop, that he finally gave you a reprieve.

Panting for breath, you went limp against him.

“Good girl,” he hummed softly, voice suddenly much clearer.

Lips pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head before he drew back and you heard the shuffle of fabric again. Had you any ability to think or move, you might have tried to catch sight of your lover, but you were too brainless to do much other than breathe. The two of you sat in silence for some time to catch your breath, fingers tracing along each other’s bodies, until you were finally able to move and you pulled back with a little smile.

“Someone looks happy,” he teased smugly.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“I wonder why,” you retorted.

As you attempted to slide back off his lap, he steeled his arms around you.

“Hmm, where do you think you’re going?” he hummed quietly.

Lifting your brows in confusion, you replied, “To the bathroom… to clean up?”

His hushed chuckle sent goosebumps down your arms. You attempted to move again only to meet resistance from his hold once more, pulling a frustrated sigh from your lips.

“What? Why can’t I-”

A little squeak of shock interrupted your words when he jerked you back down into his lap, the threat of his cock pushing up against the thin lacy barrier of your panties making your legs shake.

“Because I’m not done with you yet. Now, push those panties aside and sit on my cock so I can breed you, bunny.”

#Ghostface #Ghostface/reader #Smut #Ghostface smut

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r0semultiverse · 2 months

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Mr. 6 made you do a good show to be released?? 👀 um....

This is already giving serious eye vibes.

A whole show dedicated to public humiliation?

The Mr. Bonzo suit started moving??? 👀 Serious stranger vibes. 🤡

"It actually became a sort of ritual"

I've seen people being like "don't cross tag" but buddy... the writing cross tags itself here I mean c'mon! 😂 Something something ritual of the stranger- okay, I'll keep listening!

Hey, what's with the music?? Hey, who is Terrance Menki???👀

"The police said there were eleven bodies in total and his wardrobe was full of all sorts of homemade costumes." BRO IS ACTUALLY MAGNUSPOD WILLIAM AFTON-

"It certainly had a profound effect on the Mr. Bonzo brand." Oh I'm sure it did, holy fucking shit. 👀

Oh, me using this image is rather ironic now.

"In a lot of ways I’m more his prisoner now than I ever was on my show." WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT? 👀

"The witness statements from three murders over the last five years that claim a person in a Mr. Bonzo costume was at the scene? Do you think there could be a copycat?" Has the fear of clowns manifested as an actual clown-guything?

"Don’t contact us again." "Us?" "Why am I still trapped dealing with all this this- Why won’t he let me go?! Why-" So Mr. Bonzo is absolutely a clown cryptid of sorts with some sort of hold over Nigel.

Oh no, Gwen's about to fuck around & find out, isn't she? 👀

Hey, is Colin still himself & is he supposed to be back?

Hmm, okay, I guess that's him (hopefully).

"Maybe don’t tell them I’ve been on their terminals. They’ll only get the wrong idea." "If Lena asks, I wasn’t here." Seems like everyone's got their own little secret investigations going on, fun! This can only go well! 🙃

One of the episodes absolutely no one shows up to work except Lena is there & is like "where the fuck did everyone go?"

"Time to get some new hires again I guess."

Let's go!! Ruin exploration gang!!

"Like, it’s Saturday night and I’m choosing to hang out in a hole with you. A wet hole. And not the good kind either."

Alice with the absolute best quotes. lmao

That sounds like something with giant wings like a bat or some sort of cloth flapping in the wind. Let's hope it's the latter!

Oh a rusty old filing cabinet! Wait tetanus- 😭

"That carved floor in the big atrium – I don’t know what’s going on with that." Ah so we're just gonna breeze past that then. 😶

These are probably the remnants of old avatar creation test areas like mentioned in the Gerry & Gertrude episode. I'm just assuming here.

A key? Big find! Let's go!

AS I WAS SAYING-

Gwen, it was nice knowing you. 🫡

"Now get out of his house."

Archivist! 👁👄👁

"symbols of ancient otherworldly power"

Wait could this be a timeline where this universe's Jane Prentiss actually did manage to invade the building & succeed? I'm thinking out loud.

21:10 that sounds like critters, insects specifically 👀

"I have memories of weird stuff I saw here, but no context. I want to know what was happening, why they chose us… why they didn’t choose me. Maybe find the bit where everything started to go wrong." I am so captivated & intrigued please recount said memories to us- I mean Alice so we can learn more. Please. 👀

EXCUSE ME, WHO THE FUCK WAS THAT?!? WHO IS "[ERROR]?"

WHY DO THEY SOUND DISTORTED AS FUCK?? ARE THEY FROM THE PRIME TIMELINE OR IS THIS A NEW THING?

ARE WE GAZING OUR EYES UPON A WRETCHED THING FROM THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES?!

edit:

Is Lucia Wright an avatar of The Flesh now (in this universe or from the original timeline somehow)? Because it sure fucking sounds like it! 👀 Well, at least that key was put to good use! 😂

Also, supposedly Mr. Bonzo is a reference to Mr. Blobby.

Gwen, I'd be quaking in my boots too. That thing is terrifying!

Late observation but this universe & story seems to focus a lot on the cryptids & I like the direction it's going in! Loving this plot of cryptid hunters, childhood avatar experiments, a strange institute where our main character has past trauma, & just all of it is so good! 💜

Amazing episode, 10/10, I was at the edge of my seat the entire time! 💜 That Bonzo scene & the sound design were absolutely horrifying, thank you! The ending too! 🔥

#nigel dickerson if you need help from mr. bonzo or mr. six please blink twice omg #what if bonzo & six are actually the same creature or entity of sorts?#someone keep an eye on Colin; I'm worried about him #that carved floor in the big atrium is gonna come back into importance I just know it #so Lena uses mr. bonzo as a hitman crytpid of sorts... & now Gwen is exposed to the occult #this episode is a lot... holy crap #these episode do not miss; oh my gods; hit after hit; every time!#worm tracks made me think of jane prentiss; I just made the connection #did lucia wright become an avatar of the flesh & invade this world or is she a left over experiment of the magnus institute #I can only hope Gwen Bouchard will tell the others about wtf she saw (likely against Lena's wishes)#tmagp liveblog #mine #op #tmagp 10 #tmagp #tmagp spoilers #tma spoilers #tma #the magnus protocol #the magnus archives

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delimeful · 29 days

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Defender

warnings: bickering, theoretical violence, that's basically it this one's fluffy

Part 8 of MC AU!

“And you’re sure that this will prevent the village’s valiant defender from attacking Anxiety on sight?” Roman asked, visibly concerned. “Absolutely sure that there won’t be hitting or striking or slaying of any variety?”

Logan disliked repeating himself, and this would be the third time he had done so, hence his rapidly waning patience. “Yes, Roman. I’ve been researching this exact matter for weeks, and I’m very confident that my alterations to the iron golem’s runic carvings will prevent it from targeting Anxiety. I had to perform a similar adjustment for my own person when first creating the golem, as well.”

“Alright, alright,” Roman relented, though when Logan turned away, he could see the adventurer shoot the iron golem a wary look. “I’m just a mite concerned for Tall, Dark, and Spooky, that’s all. I mean, have you seen how bony that guy is? A single punch would practically bowl him over!”

“I think you’re underestimating him,” Logan replied, absently hoping that Roman didn’t notice the way he was triple-checking the images in his reference book and the runes painstakingly carved into the iron golem’s armor. “Endermen are far more durable and far more dangerous than they look.”

A brief stretch of silence, and then he paused his work again to lift his head and elaborate: “Not that Anxiety is a danger to us.”

“Pat’s got us well-trained, huh,” Roman mused, as though he hadn’t just been fretting over the enderman in question. “I swear, one day he’ll bring the Ender Dragon home, and we’ll all just have to adapt to it just to make the guy happy.”

“Please do not speak that into existence,” Logan replied dryly, brushing away some stray metal shavings as he stepped back from the village’s golem to look over his work. “I have no doubt he would be the only one even capable of such a thing.”

Roman hummed in agreement, coming to stand by his side. They surveyed the updated runes together for a long moment.

“And this won’t prevent it from realizing that other endermen are still potential threats?” Roman asked, an eyebrow raised at the complex interwoven symbols. “That’s a pretty specific condition to set for a construct, Specs.”

“It is,” Logan allowed. “Luckily, I am an exceedingly skilled witch.”

The brag earned him a snort and an eyeroll, both gestures a far cry from the wariness that had marked the beginning of their strange enemies-turned-friends dynamic.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop pestering you,” Roman said, lifting his hands up in a gesture of faux-innocence. “But if Anxiety gets punched into next week by one of those metal tree trunks your golem calls arms, I reserve the right to say I told you so.”

Logan sighed, the noise coming out far fonder than he wanted it to. “Very well. Though, I will remind you how many times you’ve gotten to exercise that particular right over the course of our friendship.”

He wasn’t in the habit of being wrong, especially because letting Roman say ‘I told you so’ to him would be galling beyond belief.

Roman grumbled wordlessly for a moment, before turning on his heel to lead the way back towards the small clearing near Patton’s house. “Regardless, I maintain the right! One of these days, your hubris will be your undoing, and on that day, my powerful intuition and sense for danger will triumph!”

The adventurer accentuated this particular claim by immediately getting his boot caught in a stray pumpkin vine, tripping, and nearly eating dirt.

“Doubtful,” Logan replied with poorly-concealed smugness, preoccupied with carefully replacing the golem’s lodestone and observing it shuffle back into awareness. He paid no mind to the indignant muttered complaints growing fainter behind him.

Once he was satisfied that nothing was amiss and all the inscribed runes were still properly lit up, he turned to follow Roman, beckoning to the golem to follow.

Now came for the nerve-wracking part: ensuring that the runic alterations would take proper effect, something that could only be done by introducing the two.

It was a relatively short walk to the clearing, and once they were close, Roman picked up his pace to sprint ahead and let Patton and Anxiety know that the first test of Logan’s handiwork was about to begin. Since the golem was relatively slow unless agitated, Logan remained behind, walking slowly at its side to keep it on course.

By the time they reached the clearing, everyone was prepared. In Anxiety’s case, perhaps even over-prepared, going by the characteristic ozone scent that cropped up whenever the enderman teleported too many times in a small space. Roman’s apprehension must have unsettled him as well— they did call him Anxiety for a reason, after all.

Concealing a sigh, Logan stepped forward into the clearing and to the side to make way for the construct trailing behind him, clearing his throat as though everyone’s gazes weren’t already locked on his approach. “Anxiety, our iron golem is right behind me. If it locks onto you and begins to move quickly, teleporting a chunk away should be far enough for it to calm down. It won’t harm any of us, as I’ve said before.”

There was an otherworldly hum of acknowledgement, and he noted that Anxiety had settled in front of Patton, rather than behind. By now, everyone had become well-adjusted to making sure to avoid eye contact with their easily-agitated friend, but usually, Anxiety still showed a clear preference for teleporting directly behind any one of them.

(Personally, Logan believed it was at least in part due to the way Roman would always shriek in startlement when Anxiety appeared behind him. Their unusual enderman was difficult to parse at times, but his penchant for mischief wasn’t particularly hard to pick up on.)

This test must have had him truly on edge. Logan turned to watch the golem lumber into the clearing, keeping his own posture forcibly relaxed as he mentally prepared to do damage control if this little experiment failed.

The iron golem drew to a stop a few steps in, its field of vision sweeping over all of them, and the moment stretched. It then made a grinding stone-on-stone rumble inquisitively, as though curious as to why all of them were so tense.

The sigh of relief was audible, even in Anxiety’s warped voice. Logan adjusted his glasses and only barely refrained from flaunting his success over Roman in the name of keeping the current peace. “Anxiety, you should be safe to approach, and I encourage you to do so. If you’re able to interact at close range with the iron golem, that should confirm that each and every one of the adjustments have set in properly.”

Anxiety warbled, teleporting back and forth a few blocks as he often did while nervous, and Patton reached out to give him a supportive pat on the arm.

“This is the one who was looking out for me before I met you,” he told Anxiety, offering an encouraging smile. “I think you two will get along well!”

Anxiety was quiet for a moment, and then walked forward on spindly legs, approaching the guardian with all due tentativeness. The iron golem tilted its head upwards to look at the enderman, making another rumble as it swung its arms back and forth absently, entirely unconcerned with what would normally be a serious enemy to it.

Anxiety ‘vrrp’-d back at the golem, circling around it in an unsteady circle, like a bee around a flower. The golem turned in a slow rotation to follow the enderman’s movement, still languid and unhurried. It painted a rather cute picture, if Logan was honest.

Patton clapped his hands together in glee, happy that they’d managed a successful interaction. Somehow, Logan was reminded of the first time he’d introduced his familiar to Patton’s pet cat. The felines’ resulting tolerance of each other had earned a similar reaction.

“There we have it,” he concluded, satisfied with a job well done. “Anxiety is no longer at any risk from the town’s guardian.”

Roman sidled up next to him, apparently content to ignore Logan’s somewhat self-satisfactory tone. “You know, if you’d told me this was what I’d be helping with a month ago, I wouldn’t have believed you for love or diamonds.”

“Yes, well, I could have said much the same at many points over my acquaintanceship with Patton,” Logan replied, watching as the iron golem slowly offered Anxiety a poppy, as though confused as to why the enderman was still persistently bobbing around it. Anxiety seemed immediately charmed by the gesture. “By now, I suspect I’m growing rather used to it.”

“At least I handled our newest friend better than our first meeting, hm?” Roman said wryly, and Logan exchanged an amused look with him. “Maybe I’m getting used to it, too.”

A few yards away, Patton was still practically jumping for joy. He turned to the two of them, beaming. “Now we can introduce Anxiety to the rest of the village!”

The look they exchanged this time was far more alarmed. “Patton, I’m not so sure that’s the best idea…”

Across the clearing, the iron golem tilted its head curiously as the enderman next to it abruptly teleported a fair few blocks away to hide behind a tree.

Huh. Seemed the latest and strangest addition to the village was shy.

#tss fanfic #sanders sides fic #ts roman #ts logan #ts virgil #ts patton #my writing #writing #minecraft au

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armoredtitanmistress · 6 months

Text

𝙖 𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙡𝙤𝙦𝙪𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙬𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙙 | ᴛᴏᴊɪ ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ| first times (18+ MDNI)

pairings: toji fushiguro x gojo!reader, toji zenin x gojo!reader

summary: the first time you were close enough to see the stars.

tags/genre: toji x gojo!reader, gojo’s older sister, pre-star plasma vessel arc/star plasma vessel arc, Shiu Kong cameo, suggestive language (thanks to Toji, of course), explicit language, SMUT (if that makes you uncomfortable please do not read this), symbolism (?), satoru being a little brat (are we surprised?), sibling bonding, strangers to friends to ?, fluff, 2nd person point of view, the first person point of view switches are intentional!

warnings: 8.5k word count, rated M (18+) for language and sexual scenes, male masturbation, allusion to female masturbation, vaginal sex, male dom, fem sub, virginity kink (if you squint), praise kink, breath play, brat themes (barely), handjob (fingering), oral (fem rec.), teasing (this is toji were are talking about), sweet talk, dirty talk, pet names (doll and pretty girl are the extent of it), semi-edging, missionary, safe-sex (they used a condom), titty sucking.

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Your first time was in the garden underneath the blazing lights of the stars and the judgmental gaze of the moon with the man you loved most.

That’s how you retold it to me when I became a teenager and told you I was interested in dating. You stretched the importance of communication in a relationship. Your exact words were, “Make sure they know it’s a relationship! A lot of people assume things! Oh, and use protection!”

But that wasn’t the truth. At least, not the way that Yuki told me about it.

You lost it in a dingy apartment in Shinjuku with the night sky hardly peaking through the openings of the blinds. The man you lost it to, well, I can’t speak on that.

He was an impatiently patient man. He had texted you his address soon after your date and added a few suggestive words to truly hone in on his desire to see you again but under an unrestrained environment. He left it at that and let the waiting game begin. His mind was filled with the chances of winning but in a small subsection (that’s as much as he’d ever admit to a living soul) of all that, he questioned what you’d be doing in your part of your world.

He would be lying if he didn’t have you as a constant in his mind since that day; to be more specific, your body had been getting him hard at just the thought of it. The silhouette of your body in the dress alone would have left an impactful impression on him but the opportunity to see you nearly naked and have the images he had fantasized about be confirmed.

He envisioned you stuck in a circle of Elders dictating the state of their society and you idly listening in. They’d mention your role in their hierarchy as the face of the “New Era” and implant their belief systems into you through innuendos. You’d play the attentive archetype but secretly rather be in your garden or seeing that you enjoy spending time with your sibling, you’d think about taking Satoru to eat at his favorite place because who were you without trying to appease someone who wasn’t yourself?

He also foresaw that after all of your tasks, you’d decompress in your garden. You’d be trying to do your daily routine of inspecting for weeds and checking what didn’t and did need watering. In between that routine, you’d somehow get reminded of him while taking in his failed attempt of carving out a snake in one of the hedges due to his reckless craftsmanship. You’d stifle a smile but you and those petunias that circled the surrounding area knew that you found amusement in it and though in the moment you cursed him to hell for trying to create something so hideous you never urged him to fix it.

Afterward, you’d get frustrated thinking about him and believe that the frustration that needs to be released is through training. You’d have no one around to train with and take out your frustrations on the nearby trees surrounding the training ground. After attempting to release variations of Red and Blue on the trees you’d come to grow even more frustrated at your countless failed attempts at being able to use it continuously. So you’d switch the practice to something you were good at, fighting close range. This would need the help of a helpless punching bag and you’d try to exhaust all of your frustrations in a concoction of varying different punches and kicks.

You’d take a shower to wash away the incessant thoughts of his presence. Your hands would massage in the shampoo to provide relief but it would remind you of the times he’d brush through your hair to find a strand to tug on. A tug, just one tug. That’s what you’d start with when you tug on one of your white strands. It wouldn’t feel the same as when he’d do it and that notion would certainly irk you. You’d continue your routine of washing your body but you’d make the mistake of closing your eyes when you brushed over your pebbled nipples. Curiously you’d grope them with the image of his exposed body in the pond cemented into the forefront of your mind making it easy to imagine his hands instead of your own. The hand that wasn’t busy with your breast would wander down to give attention to your needy clit that had been giving you clues as to what the target of your frustration had been.

This is the scenario that Toji found himself jerking off to late at night in his bedroom after fighting the urge to take home a woman from the bar he had been at. He cursed you for this. If you hadn’t made the sole rule be not fucking anyone else, he’d be having his dick blown right now. You’d have no problem with that rule. That rule was a test and Toji was one boner away from breaking it.

It was pathetic how he was holding out for someone who he hadn’t even felt yet.

It had been a few days since he had last seen you and his body was not reacting to it well. He thought you would’ve been crawling to him by now. He pumped his shaft faster in frustration that the scenario he had imagined wasn’t even a probability for you. You had gone your whole life without sex, what would be a couple of days, weeks, or months added on of not experiencing it?

He let out a few pumps before he came and let his other arm fall over his eyes while he tried to even out his breath. The pleasure that should’ve come along with it was nonexistent. Instead, he made the mistake of letting his mind flash an image of you again.

He would spend the rest of his night restless and sore.

The next day he had to clear his mind through means that keep him sane.

There he was in a gambling pub in Shinjuku trying to make use of his money by trying to expand on it. It was also his unhealthy way of killing time as he anticipated your call. His gambling feats were enough to forget about all the other times he had lost money. He had placed his bet for the horse race that was the gamble of the day and ordered himself some takoyaki. The pub was situated on the outskirts of Shinjuku and was a hole-in-the-wall place. The pub was littered with all walks of life – a salaryman that is using gambling as a salvation, a group of construction workers who were there for lunch and had bet the lowest amount possible as they treated it as a game, a pair of middle-aged men that didn’t want to go home to their wife and kids, and then the majority were questionable characters that were stereotypical to the environment.

If Toji were to choose between the aforementioned list he would say he was a mix of them all. This information was based on observation and had a high possibility of it all being false but Toji didn’t plan on finding out. No, he is going to take his profiling as gospel and allow himself to be right. They were the least of his worries after all. The horse he bet on was advancing and the money he put in looked like a sure win.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the door to the pub open and knew from the suit and the stench of cigarettes that approached him who it was. Sipping on his fountain drink of choice, he huffs out a laugh and announces, “Was under the impression you were embarrassed by me, Shiu. You always restrict our meetings to over the phone so what’s with the sudden appearance?”

Shiu Kong, a 24-year-old Korean national and former detective somehow found himself in Japan as a handler for mercenaries. Toji met him at a pub similar to the one they were in 2 years ago but not by coincidence. Shiu had seen him a few times before approaching him but observing him get into a bar fight and his blatant disregard for others made him approach him with the offer of becoming a mercenary.

“Unfortunately, you’re hard to miss.” The man lamented referring to the window that was directly in front of him and the man’s large silhouette. He walked closer to the table and spectated the horse race that was projected on the screen and made his bet with himself that Toji would lose. The gamble was that if Toji lost he’d reward himself another pack of parliaments and if he won he’d quit smoking.

“Plenty embarrassed of you but I just happened to be in the area and saw you through the window. Decided to cut out the middleman and fill you in on the job in person.” He explained while he searched one of his pockets for a staple of his image, a cigarette, and a lighter. Digging out both he exhaled, “Might find some entertainment watching you blow a shit load of cash in one go.”

“You’re wasting your time. I might not even bother with the job after I win this one. Bet 8 million on that Bronco and heard from one of the guys here that he’s a sure win.” Toji assured, offhandedly directing his chopsticks toward a sleazy-looking bald man across the pub.

“Yeah?” he asked in disbelief as he pulled out a seat next to his delusional client, “Should you be taking advice from a man who’s betting against you?”

No, he shouldn’t but he could always leave the man a generous message if he did decide to play dirty. Regardless if the man had “reassured” him that his bet was solid, Toji felt confident in his bet. He contributed his confidence to the outlook of his week. He was hoping that the biggest star in the sky was as much in favor of him as it had been on that date. Again, your image manifested in his mind causing him to try to remain neutral and adjust himself discreetly under the table.

He returned his gaze to the TV while he was picking up his set of chopsticks when he saw the announcement that his horse had lost. Out of frustration, he had cracked them with the emotion that had manifested in the force he held them in. He stood up from his seat and scoured the pub for the man with his eyes. He focused his eyes on where had been earlier and saw only the food he had been eating left.

“Coward”, he mumbled as he plopped himself back on the stool and pulled out another set of chopsticks from the canister on the table, he grumbled, “How much is it and when do I have to do it?”

Puffing out the smoke, he taunted thoroughly amused with how the situation worked out for him, “Trying to make another quick buck after this? Employers are going to start paying you a salary with how frequently you are asking for jobs.”

“If it’s anything short of a million they can shove that salary offer up their ass. I have to force you to negotiate to even get half the amount the jobs are worth.” He swallowed and drank from the fountain drink that he had refilled multiple times with no plans of paying the refill fee. His most recent job payout was a rare one, usually, the payout for his jobs is between 10-50k. The employers never understood the value or cost of a life. Why would they? If they were never the ones doing it. Rich people had money to blow but not the faintest idea what it’s worth was.

Pulling a seat next to the enormous man, he lets a chuckle escape, “God forbid, a 22-year-old survives on a million a month. Your gambling is going to leave you on the street eventually and don’t expect as your handler I’m going to offer you my house to crash at.”

Plopping another takoyaki ball in his mouth as he watched the horse he betted on in the lead, he jauntily answered, “As long as the jobs roll in we are both in the clear of that ever happening.”

Call Toji any negative adjective (trust, I have some of my own) but he was diligent with his work. He was the highest mercenary in demand in all of Japan with how efficient he was with his commissions. Employers appreciated that all he asked was the lump sum and the general details of the job. Morals were not a driving force in any particular aspect of being a mercenary, at least that’s how Toji perceived his career path.

Shiu nodded and vaguely detailed, “All these people want is for it to be done by the end of the month.”

While Shiu began to debrief him vaguely on the job, Toji felt a beep in the pocket of his jeans. His contact list consisted of the man in front of him and the woman he had eagerly anticipated to be inside of. He could’ve groaned out of relief at this revelation. From briefly listening in on the job description, it seemed like a pretty standard job.

Finishing the last sips of his drink and chewing on the last ball of takoyaki, he grunted as he stood up from his seat, “Got it. Forward me the details in a text or something.”

“You’ve been in a rush the past couple of days, Zenin. What other unhealthy habit of yours have you been indulging in?” He asked to take a draw from his cigarette while stuffing one of his hands in his pocket. With how long they’ve known each other, he’s hardly ever seen him rushing to places. Toji lived on the ideology that he had all the time in the world and he didn’t care much for how he spent it. Now comparing this ideology with how he had been acting lately, the former detective’s interest had peaked.

“Nothing that you would care about.” He replied as he put on his jacket. He threw some cash on the table and patted his handlers back as he made his way out of the pub.

“Thanks for that restaurant recommendation, by the way.”

Shiu watched as his associate walked through the doors of the establishment and smirked to himself. Getting up from his seat and throwing away the trash Toji had left behind he makes his way to a nearby smoke shop with his head held high and mentally thanking him for his misgivings.

No, thank you, Shiu thought as he handed the cashier his money.

———————————————————-----------------------------------------------------------------

Weeds are grown out.

[image attached]

The text alongside him reaching the garden to see you fully clothed, in baggy jeans and an even bigger knit sweater with an annoyingly yellow garden apron on top of it all with that brat of a brother beside you, well, color his disappointment.

Irony befell him as he found himself going back to his old routine of trying to go unnoticed by you guys. He must’ve been rusty because it didn’t take long for your blue eyes to find his hiding spot. You nodded your head in acknowledgment before turning your attention back to the miniature version of you that was inches away from terrorizing a flower. If he hadn’t known he was your brother, he could have passed off Satoru as your son.

You slapped his wrist away causing him to yelp in pain and sheepishly grin at being caught. You looked at him unamused and demonstrated how to properly pluck a flower.

“You are too rough on such delicate organisms, ‘Toru. You have to treat them with care and love–” He brought his hands up mimicking your speech and guessed the next words you were going to say, “Because they feel it too blah blah blah.”

He stared boredly at how you plucked the flower from the stem rather than from the root and didn’t notice how your method was any better than his.

“Feel stuff, my butt. Why care for something so weak? They don’t even do anything.” You heard him mutter and were growing irritated at his attitude. Normally, you’d hear complaints about his attitude from his retainer and any other unlucky person who crossed his path. You’d reprimand him but his behavior never was bad when he was with you. He’d be whiny and pouty but that was the extent of it. This was unusual.

“Why do you care for the teddy bear that I gifted you? Why do you care for the toys that you play with?” You asked, placing the flower you had plucked in the pocket of your apron.

He answered as if it were obvious, “Because you got them for me.”

“But they don’t do anything, so what value do they bring you? You wouldn’t care if I threw them away, right?”

“I wouldn’t care. You could buy me new ones.” This kid was audacious as he stared up at you with the cheekiest grin.

This kid knew his strengths and Toji could applaud you for resisting the urge to enforce corporal punishment.

You scoffed, “I would? What gave you that idea?”

Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist and snuggled into the embrace he had created. “Look at this face! You can’t say no to this!” He cooed, shining his eyes to yours that dulled in comparison.

You shook your head with a laugh, warming up to his antics, before creating some distance. You plucked two flowers out from nearby; hyssop and heliotrope.

Crouching down to his height, you explained, “You don’t know the meaning now but I hope once you find this interesting enough that one day you’ll understand.” You threaded the flowers in the crevice behind his ear, brushing a few strands of hair out of the way to properly display them.

Smiling at your work, you confessed, “You are annoyingly cute and sometimes I wish you didn’t know that but that’s not why I buy you those things.”

Pointing to the flowers behind his ear you said, “Those flowers are important because they have meaning.”

“Huh?” Your brother's face contorted in visual confusion, unable to grasp the point you were trying to make.

“Satoru means “to know.” Your name has meaning and lets people know how to address you. It reveals to people the kind of person you are from that alone. It’s what makes you a person.” You recall fondly on the day you were given the honor to name him. Your parents were so preoccupied with the revelation of birthing a user of the Six Eyes that they had forgotten to give him a name. The responsibility then had been passed to you. His birth came before you had thought of baby names for your hypothetical future child but keeping in line with your unoriginality Satoru was the first name to come to mind.

“These flowers may look weak based on appearance but many hold toxic properties that could kill something based on impact or consumption. Assuming that something is weak makes you the weak one in a situation and inevitably leaves you at a greater disadvantage. It could lead to your death.” You explained as you pointed to a patch of lantana, bitter nightshade, and mountain laurel; flowers with beautiful exteriors but poisonous compositions.

Satoru groaned but made no effort to take out the flowers you’d given him, “If I wanted a life lesson, I would’ve stayed with Yoichi.”

Being compared to his retainer made you recoil. You hadn’t meant to turn a sibling bonding day into a day of lectures. The world after the ignorant closings of childhood is nothing but continuous put-to-use life lessons. You’d rather give him insight into his destiny as the strongest than further inflate the propagated ego that the masses had given the boy that convinced him that he was invincible.

“You are welcome to go back to him if this bores you so much.” You are met with silence and that only elicits a sigh from you. You announced, “Let’s call it a day. I have some matters to attend to and Yoichi is most likely searching for you.”

In truth Satoru wasn’t bored, he just wanted you to spend time with him. Without the lessons, without being at home, and without anything or anyone else to worry about. You were his moral compass and anything you’d say he’d follow. His attitude was directed toward the retainer he had been trying to dodge all day

Satoru’s voice called out behind you, “It’s not boring! Tell me about those! They look kinda funky, what do they mean?”

You turned around to see him pointing at a patch of weeds. You giggled walking over to him and ruffling his hair, “Those are called weeds and they mean that I need to pluck them out in order for the other flowers to stay alive.”

“Can I help you with that one day?” He asked, unknowingly robbing Toji of his side hustle.

“Of course.” You smiled when you leaned down to place a kiss on his head, “You can go ahead of me. I’ll see you later.”

“Be nice to Yoichi!”

“I’m always nice!” He stuck his tongue out as he ran off passing the tree Toji had been hiding behind. He walked out once the kid was outside of earshot and made his way to an expectant you.

“To what do I owe the displeasure, Zenin?” You asked, patting your hands onto your apron.

Gesturing his head to the fading body of your body, he confronts, “Was here to clock in but instead saw you interviewing someone for my job. Did I mention that I work better alone?”

You laughed, “Guessing that I was interviewing for a new worker rather than a replacement is audacious. I’ve been giving you warnings about how you handled my hedges and you never seem to listen.”

“I express artistic freedom.” He shrugged, “What do they say? Art is in the eye of the beholder.”

You chuckled then teased.“As I’ve said time and time again, you need better eyes.”

Walking up the array of hedges that had been brutalized by Toji’s craftsmanship, you inquire, “Alright, what is this one supposed to be?”

What you had been pointing to were two hedges that you had thought looked like either a yin and yang figure or– actually, no that was your only guess. None of his pieces have ever looked easy to understand. You suppose he could make the argument that’s the point of art so instead of voicing that you let it remain a thought.

“Obviously that’s supposed to be a lion fighting a tiger.” He claimed with certainty.

You raised a brow, “They have stories?”

You didn’t think Toji had the capability to be creative or thoughtful. His life was based on thoughtless behavior, it was the basis of your friendship. Sure, the portrayal he was going for was violent but the thought did render you temporarily speechless. Thinking about it more, what kind of hobbies did Toji have? What kind of things does he like? Does he listen to music?

“You’ve said it yourself. Everything has meaning. Isn’t that what you were trying to tell that brat?” If you had been familiar with his bashful tells, you would’ve noticed how he refused to make eye contact with you when he answered and the tips of his ears went red.

“By the way, if that’s how you talk during sex too I might have to rethink our deal. Unless you're moaning during it then by all means continue.” He mocked, naturally reminding you of the agreement you had made almost a week ago that had been constantly replaying in your mind.

You rolled your eyes, feeling the incessant jabs at you today to be unfair, “You’d be able to get those sounds from me? I’d like to see you try.”

His hands found their respective places at each side of your waist, pulling your ass into the outline of his hardened member as he breathed into the shell of your ear, “You could find out. We still haven’t put the point of this deal to trial yet.”

“You’re vetoing my analogies during sex but that proves otherwise.” You rebuke, restraining the noise that wanted to come out from the impact. Remaining in his hold any longer, you would have let him take you right then and there. When you did get out of his touch, you heard him groan and felt the effects of it go straight to your core.

“I also remember mentioning that I don’t plan on losing it in the garden.” You calmly remind, trying hard to deny the throb in between your legs.

“I haven’t fucked anyone in a week. I’ve been maintaining my end of the deal. It’s now your turn to maintain yours. I was under the impression that you’d be one of the better pussy I’ve been in.” He said in annoyance, growing tired of your game.

You didn’t necessarily have any proof to prove that he had been lying but you also had no proof that he had been telling the truth. You shrugged, not understanding how that had anything to do with you, “Whether I am or not, that’ll be up to you to decide.”

“Yeah, and when is that gonna be? It’s been nearly a week, doll. My patience is running out.”

And it truly was. After jerking off to an imaginary scenario and sporting one to the thought of you, he could only endure so much. An ironic predicament for a man who has a Heavenly Pact that enhances his senses and his physical strength.

It must be your Gojo instincts because you felt pleasure in having something over the outcasted Zenin.

“Tomorrow. I’ll give myself to you tomorrow.” You stated, making it seem like a less than thought out decision when in actuality you had this decided from the moment you had sent that text.

“In the meantime, if you want to keep your job.” You handed him the hedge clippers, “Fix my hedges."

The rest of the time, it was a comfortable quiet with the noise of your collective pensive with the thoughts of tomorrow above all else.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The address in his text led you to a wear-for-tear apartment complex on the outskirts of Tokyo nearing Shinjuku. It was enveloped with nearby liquor stores, gambling pubs, drunkards, and arguing couples. It worried your driver to leave you alone in such a place so much that he had asked to wait for you out of concern for your safety but you waved him off without a second thought. The excuse you had used was that you were meeting up with an old colleague on work matters. He had been hesitant but he obeyed and drove off leaving you in front of the disarray. The environment is very well aligned with where you had imagined Toji would live. Given the amount of money that Toji was given in his jobs, he must’ve spent it all on a continuous streak of failed gambling bets and couldn’t afford to pay rent in a better place. You couldn’t even imagine the structure or the furniture he had in his apartment. You felt that it could have been the affluent possessions or black-and-white essentials.

You let those thoughts linger as you made your way up the flight of stairs to his apartment. Each step was louder and more concerning than the last. The noise of cars passing by and various sirens were heard clearly throughout the motel-style infrastructure of the apartment.

When you arrived at his door, you felt the reality of the situation sink in. Your virginity wasn’t something sacred to you. As a teenager, you weren’t interested in any guy that much to want to lose it to them. You wished you had caved and just lost it to one of the many guys Yuki had sent your way. Due to your high standards, you’ve landed yourself in a situation that was more than you bargained for. You’re stuck with the option of Toji Zenin, the embodiment of sex.

You let your knuckles graze the door believing if you left them there for a while it would give you the courage to knock. The meandering thoughts were pushed aside once you lifted your knuckles to knock and felt your stomach twisted up into knots. You vaguely heard thuds and things opening and closing from the interior and felt the knots in your stomach tighten.

He opened the door with relatively the same image that you had engraved in your mind; nothing but a towel around his neck and low hanging plaid red and black pajama pants that visibly displayed his defined v-line. Your blue eyes knew not to linger and went to search for his but found them fixated on your mouth. You’d have to address that habit of his eventually. You took that as your cue to speak.

“H-Hey.”

Pathetic, you thought to yourself. It had only been a few hours ago that you held the power in the situation. Seeing a preview and what you’d be seeing soon, you forfeited any semblance of power that you had left. Pushing your way through the door, you reiterate, “Where’s your bedroom?”

Entering his apartment, your suspicions of what it would look like were semi-confirmed. There were no luxurious items but it was filled with household essentials like a couch and TV. It was also barren of any personality aside from a bar cart that had looked to be untouched.

“Straight to the point? I appreciate taking into account how cruel you’ve been towards me.” He grinned at your flustered state.

“Shut up, asshat. I just want to get this over with.” You barked back, walking aimlessly in his apartment aiming to find the door that led to his bedroom.

“It’s the first door to the left. You can wait there for me. I’ll be out soon” He called out as he made his way back into the bathroom to continue his night routine that you undoubtedly disrupted.

You entered the bedroom and were surprised to find that it was cleaner than you had imagined it to be. Much like the living room, it only held the essential furniture needed to distinguish its purpose. After assessing the room for what it was, you situated yourself on the bed with your hands gripping the skirt of your kimono.

“You still have your clothes on?” You could hear the disappointment from his voice and as you turned to see him his face matched the tone of his voice. His body leaned against the doorframe, his appearance the same as it had been when he had opened the door.

You groaned, “At least try to pretend to not be disappointed.”

“You preach that speaking the truth is important to your brother but when I do it you draw the line.” He said, referring to the day you had acknowledged his existence for the first time. He sits next to you, leaving a good distance in between, but the scent of his shampoo is so intoxicating that he might as well have been millimeters away.

“For someone who partakes in sex as often as you do, you should know that talking about relatives beforehand is a serious turn-off and not a form of sex talk.” You chastised with no merit to your words.

He looked thoroughly unimpressed by your comment and rebuked it, “We haven’t even started and you’re already questioning my skills.”

The foundation of your knowledge of sex came from sources like porn and Yuki that were classified as the same; dramatized and romanticized. Another source was Toji but the thought of him having been with other women doesn’t entirely sit right with you at the moment.

“So how do you do this?” You asked, not entirely aware of how to initiate it.

He loathed verbal communication if it wasn’t necessary. He was a firm believer that people can understand from physical cues alone. Therefore, he used his movements as a response. One of his hands maneuvers its way to the small of your waist, pulling you to where your knees touch. Having you secured where he wanted you, he reached his vacant hand to cup the underside of your jaw and licked his lips before consuming yours. Similarly to the first kiss you shared at the park, it was short and sweet. He pulled away before you could even reciprocate finding your lips searching for him.

He smirked and guided, “We’ll start with this and then we can work your way up to it.”

Your lips hovering his and the scent of your strawberry chapstick lingering was not going to do it, he had to taste them again. So he did, working his mouth against yours and licking away the temptation of the strawberry chapstick. Unlike the first time, you had managed to catch on faster. You situated your hands on his shoulders to stabilize yourself but still felt unsteady. It wasn’t until you threaded your fingers into his hair that you felt secure.

He tugged on your lower lip to gain access but you weren’t one to back down easily. You weren’t the first to deny him and he had learned how to bypass brats like you. With his hand that had still been on the small of your back, he moved it lower to give your ass a quick tap causing you to gasp and for his tongue to claim your mouth.

Trying to win a battle of strength with Toji was a pathetic effort and after what felt like forever but was only a few seconds, you had given up on trying to win.

“What am I supposed to do?” You whispered in earnest but the delicacy in your voice had translated in his head to something sensual in his ear. He withheld the groan that was threatening to leave his throat and opted to busy himself by placing one of his palms on the underside of your jaw to have you facing him as he brushed pieces of hair from your face.

He brushed his lips over your own as he spoke breathlessly, “You don’t gotta do anything, doll.”

He kissed you one final time before descending towards the valley on your neck and collarbones. His impatience waned with each descending kiss he’d leave on your body. Some parts earn attention while other parts yearn for it. The marks he left left him satisfied until he encountered the hemline of your kimono blocking the visage of your breast.

“Sit up.” He instructed, helping guide you up while also loosening the obi from your waist in the process allowing your body to be exposed for him to see.

He had been complaining about you essentially blue balling him for over a week but he had no intention of having you work. Not tonight. Tonight was all about you and he was going to let you know that.

Understanding what he was trying to do, you attempted to cover yourself with the fabric with your face flushing in the process. However, your attempt to fall lackluster in execution with your breast is now enhanced by your crossed arms.

“Don’t just stare.” You muttered, suddenly feeling small – a feeling that did not come naturally to you.

“You’re just s’pretty. Hard not to.” The effects of his praise manifested differently, your upper half illuminating your cheeks in bright pink while the lower half hiding in your core.

Your pose and your expression had him experience a sexual high he had never been able to achieve with any other woman. A sculptor like Brancusi could feel,see, and anatomically understand your body but he could never be able to sculpt it in a manner that remained faithful to your essence.

He took hold of your clothes and tossed them in the same direction he had your panties. You were fully bare but unlike earlier, you felt a surge of confidence at his dark green eyes morphing away from its former greed hue.

“Come on, now’s not the time to get shy with me.” He laughed before latching his mouth onto your breast bringing out a moan that had yet to be released from you. His tongue lapped, swirled, and tugged on your nipple with expertise while his other hand replicated his tongue's movement effortlessly. You tried covering your mouth in an attempt to muffle the noises that were fighting to come out but Toji took quick notice and moved it to situate back into his terrain of hair..

“I wanna hear those sweet noises of yours, doll. Let them out. You can try covering up how I’m making you feel but I know.” He urged you on before taking the hand that had been toying with your nipple and using one of his fingers to hook onto your panties and move them aside to rub across your slit and in doing so pick up how wet you had become from just from touch. Your lips were sealed shut but your hips bucked against his touch, trying to catch the sensation again.

Slipping his fingers inside his mouth to suck up you up. He stuck his tongue out to give you a visual of his tongue churning on his finger. Pleased by your reaction, he kissed your lips in reward for your submission, permitting you to taste yourself. He mumbles in between kisses, “Your body makes it so obvious for me.”

“Do something.” You uttered between battered breaths.

He lowered himself between your thighs and raised your legs to rest on either side of his shoulder after he had skillfully taken off your panties in the process, tossing them aside without haste. Coming in contact with your pussy, he breathed haughtily against your folds. You had to have the prettiest pussy he had ever seen. It was dripping and anxiously awaiting his touch but he had to contain himself.

“Demanding me? To do what exactly?” He used his breath to an advantage, drawing in and out of the vicinity of your pussy but never too close or too far. His antics are the source of the shiver that overtook your body.

“Touch me.” You said in an obvious tone.

“Where? Here?” He asked coyly, grazing his tongue throughout your inner thigh barely reaching the meeting point of your thigh and your vagina. Deciding to be generous, he presses a kiss onto your swollen clit. You could’ve slapped yourself with the whimper you had let out.

You gritted out in between moans, knowing what he was doing, “Fuck you know where shit, you are such an asshole.”

He rolled his eyes at the nickname but decided that since it was your first time he should save the edging for another day.

Without warning, you feel a slow swirl on your clit before he commits to seeking refuge with his lips. He ate you out as if you contained ambrosia and the only way to fully attain it was by ruining you.

“You’ve got such a pretty clit, doll. Looks so cute and swollen.” He teased as he swirled a finger over it before giving it a little tug. You glanced down to see his hungry eyes drawn to your panting and moaning figure. You quickly looked away and he retracted his fingers from your clit at the same time. You whined out at the loss.

“Eyes on me.”

You couldn’t find yourself to disobey.

“Want you to remember this.” You heard him whisper in between sucks as he descended again. Occasionally he would groan into your cunt shocking you closer to an orgasm. The bed sheets weren’t even a contender for places to latch on. Your eyes were only on Toji. It was an automatic response to thread your fingers through his hair and guide his head closer to you.

His name is left broken on your lips while your orgasm is on his. He gave you a second to compose yourself before asking, “Think you can handle more?”

More? Before you could ask, you had your words caught in your throat.

“All that from just my mouth.” He lapped up everything that had been seeping out of you. “Need to prep you before you take the whole thing. Wanna see how much you can take when I add one in.” He murmurs to himself more than to you.

“Inflating your ego during sex, you’re such- fuck Toji!” You cut yourself off at his finger slotting inside your cunt without any resistance or warning.

“So loose. I’m sure you can take one more.” He mumbled against your ear.

He pumped in and out while his mouth met yours allowing you to taste yourself. Originally the thought had repulsed you but with the assaults on your cunt and an impending second orgasm, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. The kiss was sloppy. You would break away each time his fingers hit the right spot.

Toji was right. Sex was a stress reliever. You couldn’t think of the documents on your desk that you needed to sign, missions that you had lined up for the week, or the brunch your mother had asked you to attend. That damn brunch was the least of your concerns. None of that mattered, not with how his fingers were slamming in and out of you at an inhuman pace that no other man could achieve.

You felt that you were close but so did he. His lips left yours at the same time his fingers did and you anxiously anticipated their return but they never came. You turned to face him but noticed him get up off the bed.

“Why’d you stop?” You asked panting, lifting yourself using your elbows. Had you done something wrong? Before you could ask, he lifted a hand signaling you to remain still.

“Like I said, I was prepping you. Want you to cum on something else.” He informed, swiftly removing his remaining clothes leaving him fully nude.

Your imagination didn’t do it justice. At this point, nothing you had envisioned this to go to had been beyond your comprehension. That night at the pond was proving to be a preview. You had no dicks for reference to go off but based on the assumption you knew he was beyond average in girth and length. It had to be his Heavenly Pact at work because no normal human would be able to have been blessed like that.

“Are you ready? We can stop.” He asked with a kindness you had never thought was possible from a mercenary. His eyes remind you of an exploding nebula. You had never seen that sort of emotion from him in all your years of knowing him.

Momentarily shocked you stared gapingly at him and you shook your head.

“I want you.” You softly whispered, though it had sounded different in your head.Not given enough time to backtrack on the implications, your body had already been lifted and settled onto a few pillows with your back against the headboard of his bed.

Those were the words he imagined you saying when he’d touch himself to the thought of you. When he needed something to get him off while he was with a woman who wasn’t doing it for him.

Staring at your figure, you were stunning. Pieces of your white hair sticking to your body due to the sweat that could mimic a blizzard. Your boobs moving to an unsteady and erratic rhythm, Your thighs rubbing against each other to release tension, Then those eyes of yours that might as well have been the six-eyes with how alluring they were, tempting him to dare to ruin you, taint you, take you.

“What.” You mumble, suddenly the confidence you had felt earlier converting into self-conscious.

He places his thighs on either side of your legs, hovering over you before closing in on your face. “Been waiting years for you to admit that. Give me some time to soak it in.” He breathes, stealing another breathtaking kiss.

“I’m here now. Do what you want.” Your words draw out when he departs from the kiss.

He shook his head while he fluttered his lips against your jaw, “You’re not ready for what I want. You’d fall right apart.”

Your left arm latched onto his shoulder to keep him close and hummed at his words.

“Try me.”

You felt the chuckle he let out on your collarbone, “You don’t ride a stallion without riding a mule first.”

“You do if you dare to try.”

He stopped his advances and again laughed at your audacity before snaking a hand behind you to give your ass a playful tap.

“Offering to ride me? I’m sure you could but that’s gonna have to be another day.” He promised and you were inclined to believe without any further information.

You weren’t thinking. You couldn’t think knowing that his dick was so close but so far away. That you were about to lose it to Toji, the man who has been in your life for as long as you’ve been sentient.

He must’ve sensed your nerves because he smiled–not one of those condescending Zenin smiles– but a smile that was unique to Toji.

“I got you.” He assured you with words but his green eyes were the first thing to register in your mind.

He reached to the side of his nightstand and unwrapped the condom wrapper. He saw you watching with curious eyes.

“Wanna put it on?” He asked and you could only nod as he handed over to you.

It seemed pretty straightforward. All you had to do was slip it on him. As you were about to make contact with his dick was when you realized what you were doing but let the thoughts die out. As you slipped it on fully, you let your fingers graze the part of his dick that wasn’t covered by the condom out of curiosity. His hand caught your wrist and you thought you did something wrong.

“Not today.” He tried to remain assertive but his wavering voice begged to differ. However, you didn’t notice.

“I’m going to put it in.” He said and you nodded. When he did you could only describe the sensation as foreign – more foreign than a kiss but not unwelcome— and you felt that you’d never hold leverage over him again.

This was too intimate. He was handling you with the care of a flower. Ironic, given how he went about tending your garden. You had hardly been allowed to do anything because he wouldn’t let you. He was partly in, with a little more than half of his dick inside of you, inching in slowly so as to not overwhelm you.

“You can move.”

“With pleasure.” He started off slow like he did when he first put it in – in the haze of your impatience you’d consider it a snail's pace– however, the way he rolled his hips into yours to make up for it. You observed as his eyes found a new fixation on his dick disappearing into your cunt. No matter how he tried to make up for it, you needed more and you were passed not wanting to beg.

“Faster, you can go faster.” You encouraged and he didn’t need to be told twice. He wrapped your legs around his waist and the angle immediately caused a knot to form in your stomach. The snail's pace was overtaken by a speed that you could compare to a jackrabbit. Your jaw lolled and began moaning and yelling profanities mixed in with his name that hazed out in your head to sound the same. It must’ve been a mantra because he joined in too.

“You’re doin’ so fuckin good, pretty girl. Takin’ it so well.” He praised before groaning out your name causing you to clench around him involuntarily.

“Fu-uck you’re killing me here, doll. How does it feel getting ruined by me.” He growled, drawing out of you before ramming back into your cunt. The crescendo of your bodies resonating through the walls.

“S’good! S’good!” He laughed at how gone you were. You were his dream incarnate. As he pushed into you, he let the thought of the long wait you put him through be worth it.

He kissed you, branding your hips with his hands and using the momentum to rut further into you, as he said, “Want to feel you cum. I know you got one more in ya, pretty.” In such a short amount of time, he had already memorized your body’s cues.

You gasped at the increase in pace and knew that you would be reaching the end soon.

“To-oh-ji! Toji! Toji! Fuuh-uck!” You had officially lost all sense. Your hips rutted into his, a failed attempt at matching his pace.

His mouth latched onto your boob, sucking harshing on your nipple, and occasionally biting onto it. Rather than giving your other boob the same attention, his other hand traveled into your valley and made a home abusing your clit that was pulsing from the overstimulation.

“I’m close.” You warned and his actions weren’t what unraveled you. It was his words.

Unlatching from your boob, he smirked against your lips, “You're there, baby. Let go.”

His blinds were closed all the way, not allowing a speck of light to permeate through the bedroom but you were seeing stars. You may have seen Cassiopeia amongst them all.

His mouth caught your moans but his pace didn’t relent just yet. His movements were not as precise as they had been, stuttering between strokes, and he had begun to be vocal. He was near his end and you had to repay him for his work by clenching around his dick and tugging at his hair.

He rammed into your cunt one final time before you felt his cum spurt inside you. This is by far the most he had cum in– no, he had never cum this much before. His body fell slack onto yours and for a while, all you felt was your chest beat in unison. He stayed inside you for a while and when he did eventually take it out, you felt your cunt clench on air at the loss.

He tossed the condom into the nearby trash can and let himself fall beside yours. It was awkward for a while but you knew that you needed to leave. You started to get up from the bed, preparing to find your clothes that had been scattered throughout the room, his hand lying on top.

Turning to face him, you saw his pose embodied a sculpture of Hercules to a tee– naked with his sheet draping over the parts you had met a few minutes prior.

“You don’t have to leave” If you didn’t know any better you could confuse his tone with his pleading.

“It’s already so late and my driver will definitely grow suspicious if I don’t return home tonight.”

“You had a driver bring you here?” He asked unimpressed. For someone as calculated as you, the rookie mistake of having a driver bring you here was laughable.

“How else would I get here? You didn’t necessarily offer me a ride.” You reminded him while you found your phone and texted your driver

“No but you did.” He smirked and you felt your cheeks heat up.

“Consider the offer off the table.” Though it was a threat, he found the pout etched on your face too cute to hold your threat at a value.

You made your way out of the apartment complex to see your driver waiting for you.

“I surmise the meeting went well.” Your driver asked as he opened the door for you.

Meeting? What meeting? Oh, that.

Clearing your throat, you ascertain, “I don’t believe those matters concern you.”

“R-Right, my apologies ma’am.” He stuttered out. Once you had entered the car, he dashed towards the driver's seat. You saw him stumble over his feet and wipe a few nervous sweat beads from his forehead before entering the car himself.

Your hand was hovering over the privacy divider button when he spoke again.

“Your mother asked me to remind you of the brunch you have tomorrow with your father.”

Your heart froze.

“Noted. Can we get going now? I’d like to wake up on time tomorrow.” You assumed he had replied after but could never know for certain because you had already drawn the divider up.

Staring out of the window you notice a light turned on inside of the apartment and a shadow briefly before it was overtaken by the bustling streets of Shinjuku.

It was odd to stare at the stars knowing how they felt for the first time.

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a/n: sorry for the two month break! honestly had a lot of trouble writing this chapter. I've never written smut before so I hope I was able to do the genre and toji justice. Also, after seeing Toji in the anime recently (do not speak to me about the Megumi scene or I will cry) felt like I missed writing about my man.

italicized references:

cassiopeia: a queen in ancient Greek mythology and constellation.

hyssop and heliotrope: flowers

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