Tumgik
#plants overload!!
lilgynt · 1 year
Text
you will kiss me on the lips. you will kiss me on the lips so hard and fondly.
Tumblr media
10 notes · View notes
elephantaday · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
Day 83 of posting pictures of elephants.
42 notes · View notes
robotslenderman · 2 years
Text
Feeling so vindicated by the amount of people reblogging that interior decorating post going "oh my god that first one is overstimulating as fuck"
Like yeah minimalism sucks but oh boooooyyy do I hate the rebellious knee-jerk reaction style of design that guarantees that my neurodivergent ass is going to be stressed out in that place. For some of us neurodivergent folks, simplicity and minimalism is essential to our mental health - my stress levels are directly correlated with how much stuff is in my environment, so my room has very little decorations outside of my plants and art prints. I purge my belongings frequently and only have a few sentimental possessions. A splash of colour in a minimalist house and I'd actually be quite happy.
But I remember visiting houses like the "sexy" example in that post and the stress of being in that sensory overloading environment jumps out at me almost as much as the decor. A shitton of clutter and gaudy clashing colours is a great way to give myself sensory overload.
16 notes · View notes
Note
"What makes you think we'll have 24 of them?" "Because that's how many I planted silly." "I'm petty sure you get more then 1 zucchini per plant."
"Zucchini?" Victor repeats. "I -- given what I've heard about zucchini and how much you can get off one plant, I think you may have severely overplanted. I hope you have a lot of people in your lives that like zucchini!"
2 notes · View notes
jakemyboy · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Our thermometer is accurate! Yay! Don't know if this is the high point yet. Hope so. Tomorrow may be hotter. Goodness...while I got this post ready it hit 114°! Insanity! 🔥🔥🔥🔥
4 notes · View notes
Text
Been home for all of four hours and my anxiety is through the roof, I'm already overstimulated, and I've had a complete breakdown on my bedroom floor 👍🏻
2 notes · View notes
Text
youtube
These exploding cucumber plants were all over my grandfather's farm in the Middle East (northwestern Jordan specifically) and always scared the living shit out of me as a child. They still do.
2 notes · View notes
onlyswan · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
summary: in which jungkook is one of your greatest fears and you’re his achilles’ heel.
idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, angst / word count: 4.1k
content/warnings: i love you i want us both to eat well T_T sigh. oc has abandonment issues pls protect at all costs + oc is worried bc jk is working so hard :( + a worm (???) cameo. ily protective and hopeless romantic iw!jk <3 the ending 🥲💔 this drabble literally goes 📈📉
> in which masterlist!
note: *insert my melody mugshot scene* me if planting puzzle pieces in my drabbles + making oc cry (IM SORRY) were a crime. this was sm fun writing <3 i cried and laughed they’re so precious </3
“jungkook, baby?”
your silky voice fills the quiet apartment as you pad across the floor. you’re carrying your heeled mary janes by its straps, leaving you only in your white socks.
“babe?”
you frown as the seconds pass and you receive no response from your lover. there’s no music playing, no rustling somewhere in the kitchen or the living room. the lights are dim like they usually are, but the vivid colors are absent.
him? asleep at 9pm? jeon jungkook? it can’t be, but you’d be delighted to finally see him resting early if it was real.
and so, spurred by that tiny glimmer of hope, you carefully crack the bedroom door open, as if you’re fifteen again and you just came back from sneaking out of the house.
but you’re grown now; you live in a building with complete strangers for neighbors. you just got home from work, and you’re no longer used to sleeping alone because you share the bed with another person.
you find it empty. devoid of any creases, sign of life. as neat as a hotel room’s make believe that no one lived there until two hours prior.
the disappointment weighs down on your shoulders, causing them to drop.
he didn’t tell you he was going somewhere else after practice, you think to yourself as your lips permanently shape into a pout. what happened to going out with you for dinner?
agreeing, your empty stomach grumbles angrily.
maybe he got caught up at work. maybe he’s on his way home. maybe he’s on his way to the restaurant and he’s about to text you to come over. maybe he forgot about your plans and he’s having dinner with somebody else.
whatever the reason is, you’re too lazy and tired to whip up something edible on your own. with or without him, you’re going out and you’re stuffing your mouth full with rice and meat. after all, autumn is here, your dear old friend.
in search for a coat that will accompany you in your late-night stroll, you enter the walk-in closet and flip on the lightswitch.
you can count them with just your fingers— the amount of times you’ve felt this type of fear. absent eyes, melting spine, chills running to the top of your head down to your fingertips, mind racing with an overload of thoughts (it appears as a blank page, the same way that white is the presence of all colors of visible light). this fear�� you associate it with impulsive mistakes, fire, police and ambulance sirens, and… empty closets.
jungkook’s side of the closet is empty.
clothes. shoes. bucket hats. beanies. belts. everything. gone.
but the floor is scattered with random pieces of clothing that look like they accidentally fell while someone was in a rush to pack them all in a bag. so in a rush that they didn’t even bother to pick them up.
your weak knees almost give way, but you force yourself to stumble backwards until your back hits the doorframe— you refuse to let yourself look like you’ve been carelessly discarded too.
not again. not again. not this goddamn vicious curse you thought you’ve already broken out of. not. again.
you blink away the tears threatening to spill as you scramble to open the zipper of your bag, but they spill anyway when your shoes clatter to the floor. you flinch at the thunderous sound, clutching your phone tightly against your chest. you keep your eyes closed throughout the defeaning silence that comes after.
the empty space mocks you. it knows your intricate design was not meant to live in an empty home.
you guess nothing much has changed. you’re still afraid of jungkook and his power to take away the sun, just as he did before, and you deeply despise being afraid. you don’t like it when the walls are closing in on you, poisoning your mind into believing that you’re small when the heart inside your chest burns with a fire brighter than that of the damn sun.
anyone would be foolish to leave you; it’s only jungkook who could have you mourning the death of the garden you’ve given the past five years of your life to.
jungkook returns to the apartment half an hour later. despite the long, grueling hours of dance practice he nearly didn’t survive, the excitement vibrating through his body is manifested through the lightness of his movements. he’s finally seeing his lover for the first time today… awake.
when he brought his natural body warmth along with him to the bathroom this morning, you sunk yourself further into mattress, beneath the thick blankets and against the soft pillows. by the time he had to give you your obligatory goodbye kiss before he leaves for work (or else you’d sulk about it for the rest of the week), half of your face has been hidden from sight. he was only able to press a loving kiss on your forehead, and then your eyelids that were fluttering as you dreamt.
night time comes and he is still deprived of the sight of your beautiful face? he somberly wonders as he finds you slumped over the dining table; he swears that there is a dark rain cloud hovering above you. your arms are thrown over the hardwood as they serve as a makeshift pillow for your vessel— his little firefly curiously bleak.
“baby? are you sick?” he asks, voice dripping with concern as he tenderly rubs your back.
the legs of the chair screeches against the tiled floor, neglectedly pushed behind.
“kook?” you manage to choke out, frantically sitting up once your muddled brain registered the familiarity of his touch on your bare skin.
his heart drops to his stomach as your tear-stained face comes into view. this isn’t how he envisioned your greeting; it usually came in the form of a bright light not harsh as the sunlight, a softness that begs to be held.
“are you crying?!”
your reply only comes out as a pitiful whimper. he stumbles a step backwards when you unceremoniously jump into his embrace, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. he gets a whiff of your sweet perfume, and then it becomes the air that he breathes, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it.
“baby!”
he squeezes your waist taut against his body, affectionately nosing at your cheek before giving you a kiss. “did something happen? tell me- tell me.”
“jungkook,” your voice cracks as you utter his name, sounding almost like a plea, and then an endless string of heartbreaking sobs comes out muffled against his shirt. “where have you been?”
this sends him into a state of panic. seeing you in pain— it’s his biggest weakness. after all, you are his achilles’ heel.
“why? why, why, why?” you’re weak and pliant as he pulls your arms down, collapsing against his chest when he envelopes you in his embrace. he cradles your head in his palm, soothing you with gentle pats and shushes. “shh, shhh- it’s okay, i’m here now. everything’s okay, you hear me?”
his efforts prove to be fruitless, because you only seem to cry harder as he slowly rocks your bodies back and forth.
you shake your head, hands attempting to hold on to the back of his shirt to regain sensation in your limbs, but they miserably fail and fall on the sides of his hips.
“talk to me… please, mhmm?“ he hums quietly, pressing his soft lips to your temple. “tell me what’s wrong and your boyfriend will take care of it.”
from your sniffles to your hiccups, you remain unable to form any coherent response, and it leads his imagination to construct the worst possible scenarios. he feels his stomach turn with uneasiness, jaw clenching as he carefully pulls away to meet you eye-to-eye.
“did someone touch you? hurt you?” he spits out with urgency, and the unparalleled care he displays puts you in a daze, simply dumbfounded as he strokes your face. “huh, baby? just tell me and i’ll take care of the rest.”
now that you’re being reminded that jungkook could quite literally kill a person with his bare hands if they ever inflict harm on you, the fog is clearing up and you feel so incredibly… stupid.
but that’s more the reason why it’s difficult not to be sensitive when it comes to him; his absence proves to be lethal.
“shit, you’re scaring me.” he breathes out shakily as he taps your cheek lightly to bring you back to him, the distant look in your eyes triggering the emergency alarms in his head.
he unconsciously licks his lips and he tastes your tears; he doesn’t want anybody else to ever come this close.
“okay, okay- let’s put that aside for now. what do you need? should we go to bed and rest instead?”
“i thought you left,” you whisper as you hang your head in shame.
he blinks at you in confusion. “to where? my flight isn’t until next week, baby.”
fantastic! now you sound like the most dramatic, clingiest bitch to ever grace the planet. you bury your face in your hands to hide the battle zone between your heart and mind, but your boyfriend seizes your wrists because he can’t bear another second of it.
“is-is that why you’re upset…?” he asks with not a trace of malice or ridicule. he is only filled with guilt as it dawns on him then— how you’ve only gotten used to always having him around four years into your relationship, when he was taking a break from work.
the changes in his life are also changes in yours, but they still affect you in many different ways.
“then just come with me. i’ll make it work. maybe we can extend for a bit, spend an entire day by ourselves- there’s a lot of museu-”
“i thought you left,” you repeat yourself, exposed and vulnerable, vision swallowed by the darkness because you can’t make yourself look at him. “your clothes… they’re gone, and i was calling but you… you weren’t answering my calls so i thought…”
“my clothes?” he exclaims, eyes going wide as he realizes that they’ve accidentally slipped from his mind. “ahh, i thought about cleaning the closet while waiting for you so i moved everything to the other room!”
you open your mouth to speak, but much to your chagrin, no words come out. you purse your lips as your chin wobbles— the new wave of tears in your eyes mimic shiny crystals.
“____!”
and at the stern mention of your name, you know that you’re about to receive a (loving) scolding from your boyfriend. your lips curve into a frown before a sob inevitably escapes past them.
“why would you think that? why would i leave you? that doesn’t make sense at all, does it…?”
you shake your head, hugging him so tight, possibly tighter than you’ve ever done before. between your bodies, his heart is being unbearably wrung.
“i’m sorry, baby. seeing you cry like this breaks my heart…” he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, resting his cheek on the side of your head. “but why would that be the first thing you think of…? i must be doing something wrong, right? have i been too busy with work? am i neglecting you?”
you’re breathless, a little dizzy— bloodshot eyes meeting his that are now gleaming with sadness. “no, it’s not like that! i just panicked, i couldn’t think straight.”
“are you sure?”
he looks at you skeptically, scanning your face.
“baby-” his voice breaks, then he pauses with his gaze still trained on you. “okay, i’m sorry. i… should’ve thought about what cleaning the closet would look like.”
“i was just being stupid.” you give him a small smile, rubbing your eyes to chase away the burning sensation. “sorry for scaring you.”
“stop, you’ll hurt yourself.” he tuts, pushing your wrists aside to cup your face in his hands, much gentler in comparison to your own self. his thumbs draw shapes on your soft skin, and then out of the blue, he curiously squeezes one of the space buns on top of your head. “wow, this is so pretty?”
“huh…? oh, thanks.” you mumble, still feeling out of it.
“this, too.” the white silk ribbon wrapped prettily around your neck, he means, which he hooks a finger on to tug lightly. it matches the lace straps on your shoulders that falls across the underbust of your dress, tied together to form a ribbon in the middle of it. that makes two, so clasically you.
and while it may be partly true that he’s trying to lighten the atmosphere, he just can’t defy the urge to express his admiration for you, even in a situation like this. he’s perpetually love-drunk.
“thank you.” you nod, shyly looking away to sniffle. “but you’re the reason why my makeup is ruined… need to wash it off before we go.”
“you’re beautiful either way, baby.”
“i know.” you scoff. “would you date me for five years if i wasn’t?”
he releases a throaty chuckle, capturing your lips in his with a smile of endearment that he fails to subdue.
“you’re so fucking cute. i love you-” he says with merely an inch of distance between you.
he grunts in melodramatic anguish, overcome by the insensity of his affections overflowing past the brim of his very being, leaning so close that the edge of the table digs into your lower back, surely to leave a temporary mark.
and he carries on to kiss you so many times that you lose count; you can only melt as you collect them in that bottomless pocket located somewhere in your soul, where all the love you’ve received across lifetimes is recorded to prove i was once here.
“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you. i’m never leaving. you’re stuck with me and bam forever.”
if the time comes that the two of you break up, who would bam come home to? jungkook stubbornly refuses to have that conversation.
however, you still can’t let go of something, and you pout as you shove him lightly. unsurprisingly, his strong build doesn’t budge at all.
“but why didn’t you answer my calls?” at last, you gain enough energy to complain, but your face grows hot as the urge to cry returns. “i mean, what else was i supposed to think?!”
jungkook is struck by yet another lightning.
may the heavens have mercy, he’s been making you angry more than usual lately.
“shit, i forgot. i turned off my phone.” he mutters under his breath, feeling extremely regretful that he was not reachable when you needed him most to be. “i wanted to focus only on you tonight. what do they call it again…? leaving work at work?”
he winces guiltily.
“i’m sorry. maybe it wasn’t a smart idea.”
“no, i like that.” you almost interrupt him from talking because of how fast you are to brush off his apology.
he makes a mental note of it— the way you’re gripping at his shirt in small fists. you’re tense and overwhelmed; you need him to stay close.
“leave work at work. focus on me, and let me be your rest.”
unbeknownst to you, jungkook bites back his tears then. after all this time, he still gets mesmerized by the tenderness that naturally governs your every word and action; he thinks that he needs you more than you need him.
“just eat, baby. i’ll cook the meat for us.” jungkook coos at you as he cuts more meat into bite-sized pieces using a pair of kitchen shears.
“okay, then i’ll make sure that you eat.” you grin excitedly, dragging your chair closer to his.
you set down the tongs, grabbing your chopsticks to pick up a cooked piece of pork belly from the grill. you don’t forget to blow on it, mindful of burning his tongue.
of course, you don’t want to hurt him, but it would be especially painful for him as a singer.
“ahhh-” still busy with cooking, jungkook opens wide at your cue, catching the meat in between his teeth.
“rice,” he demands as he chews.
you scoop up rice from your bowl, and he devours it happily as he continues to flip the strips of pork belly lined up across the grill.
“mmhmm, it’s so delicious!” he dramatically says out loud. his eyebrows are knitted together and his legs are bouncing under the table, tell-tale signs of him enjoying the food.
witnessing this kind of reaction, any chef would be happy to slave away in the kitchen to serve him a meal. you recognize it in the smile of the owner after jungkook ordered more side dishes, and the way he dashed through the door to reduce the waiting time.
“yah, feed yourself, too!” jungkook chides you after you feed him meat three times in a row, but with an open palm that catches the juice that drips from the kimchi, you still tap your chopsticks against his lips. he spares it a glance before catching it using his tongue.
“i am!” you then rush to wrap a piece of pork belly in lettuce, dipping it into ssamjang before stuffing it into your mouth.
“good job, baby.” he grins in satisfaction, rubbing your back as praise. this makes you preen. “make sure to eat lots, got it?”
but then you’re back to spoiling him rotten, this time with an egg roll. so far, he has only touched his own chopsticks twice.
“i just told you to eat first!”
you glare at him, pouting. “but you worked so hard practicing today and you haven’t even eaten properly yet.”
he is too busy with work, and it’s not news that you’ve been worried sick about his health. it’s difficult to watch him work himself to the bone, but no one truly has the power to stop jungkook from doing what he wants, sometimes not even himself. and you find it impossible to fault him for it when you know that everything he does is done out of love. from the vigorous vocal and dance lessons, and to the deep cleaning of the apartment because his baby has been developing an allergy to dust.
“you need to make it up to your body. here, please?”
he loves being loved, jungkook thinks to himself as he eats the egg roll whole.
you were already prepared to go home after dinner, but your night owl for a boyfriend insisted on going on a walk at the park because he wanted to, and you quote, ‘see you awake for a little while longer,’ or whatever the hell he meant by that.
with his tattooed arm protectively swung over your shoulder, you’re engulfed in a wave of nostalgia. for the first two years of your relationship, before you started living together, you only met with each other at night, save for the very rare day-offs that he got. the only places that are still open after midnight are nightclubs, fastfood chains, convenience stores… and well, parks.
and he would always hold you close like this to make you feel safe, and the rest of you melts away while the side of your ribcage that he is pressed against remains to shelter your heart. on the contrary, you also remember how your bodies used to be so tense. you wanted to sacrifice more sleep and to walk to the other side of the park, of the street, to that other convenience store five blocks away because this one didn’t have the flavor of ice cream you wanted, anything… just… anything so you could be with each other ten minutes more.
and it was cold. it was always cold.
“what do you mean ‘it exploded’?”
“it seriously exploded! it was on fire! that’s why i went out to buy a new extension cord!”
“jungkook, it’s because you plug in too many things at once!” you cry out in frustration, your steps becoming heavy stomps. “i told you to stop doing that!”
“what do you mean? if it has six slots, doesn’t that mean six devices is the maximum?” he continues to stubbornly defend himself, and you can only hang your head in defeat. “otherwise, it’s a scam!”
“it is a scam! see…? they made you buy a ne-”
your sentence is cut short as your tongue gets paralyzed.
a dark and striped, long figure approaching ahead, slithering its across the grass.
your mind immediately registers it as the animal you fear most.
oh, no. no, no, no, no, no.
“jungkook,” you utter his name with a tremble.
the same fear you experienced only two hours ago holds you hostage once more, add all the hair in your body standing up and you’re as frightened as a cat.
“what’s wrong? yah! what are you doing?! baby, ba- fuck!” he sputters out as you forcefully pull him back along with you, displaying a type of strength and agility he doesn’t normally see.
the two of you continue to stumble backwards as you struggle to maintain balance, and somehow jungkook manages to switch your positions so that you’re the one who lands on top him instead of the other way around when you eventually end up as a heap on the soft earth.
he begins to feel his throat closing up at the sight of pure, genuine fear in your eyes.
“jungkook, snake- it’s small bu-”
you interrupt your own sentence with a high-pitched squeal, garnering looks from strangers moving and unmoving. in the blink of an eye, your boyfriend has swept you off your feet as if you’re light as a feather, driven by the instinct to protect the love of his life.
you cover your mouth in shock, your other arm coming up around his neck to keep yourself from falling.
you think you may have fallen for jungkook all over again.
“are you spiderman?”
he was too busy searching for the subject of your fear under dim lights, and so he looks at you in bewilderment to ask, “what was that?”
you shake your head with your wide eyes shining with faux innocence. you squeak. “nothing.”
he releases a sigh, followed by a chuckle of obvious relief and amusement as he squeezes your body closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. “aigoo, my ____! why are you so scared today? what am i going to do with you…? it’s just a worm.”
“are you sure? i swear i saw it raise its head!“
“i’m sure,” he lulls you. “i think worms can do that, too?”
your face twists in an expression of mixed bewilderment and distrust.
“that i’m not sure about, but it’s really just a worm! would i still be standing here if it wasn’t?” he clicks his tongue sharply. “we need to get your eyes rechecked.”
you roll your eyes with a huff. you’ve have had enough of his teasing before it even starts.
“uh?! i’m serious over here!”
this is new— you mean bickering with jungkook in a public place isn’t, but being carried by him like a bride while it happens definitely is.
“fine, i’ll go this weekend. happy?” you fake an obedient smile. “you can put me down now.”
he blinks, and then he adjusts the way he’s holding you to ensure that your dress won’t show what’s for his eyes only— for a split second, you were flying.
“i’ll go with you,”
“okay. now put me down.“ you tap his shoulder repeatedly to prompt him to heed your words. “babe, this is embarrassing!”
“nope,” he ignores your protest with nonchalance as he resumes to walk the path you’re on, evidently enjoying the attention he’s stealing and the way you’re curling yourself smaller to hide.
“oh my god! weren’t you just complaining about your body hurting?!”
“you were scared of me leaving,” he smiles, glancing down at you. “so now i’m gluing you to myself.”
that made you quiet for a while. inside your tote, the container of kimchi, wrapped in a plastic bag, rattles with his every stride. you noticed that jungkook loved it so much, so you ordered it to go when he went to the bathroom before you were to leave the restaurant.
“you know, we used to just hold hands,” you mumble with a childish pout. “like normal people?”
“this is very normal,” he argues.
the scenery becomes more familiar as he takes the long way home.
“some would even say romantic.”
a wave of nostalgia hits, and you visibly shiver.
you don’t know if he would remember, but he has said the same exact words once before.
you scrunch your nose, supposedly to give him a look of disgust, but a giddy smile betrays you. you are five years younger again, and the night ends with the moon bidding you an adieu.
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
4K notes · View notes
Text
Blessing
Pairing- Ao'nung x Sully!reader
Summary- You are the twin sister of Lo'ak who is the complete opposite of each other, and when you move with the Metkayina you caught someones eye.
A/N- This was a request
Tumblr media
You are the complete opposite of your twin brother, his was rambunctious you were always calm, he was rebellious you were obedient somewhat. He wanted to fight you wanted to collect plants make medicine help to heal people. But somehow you fit each other just right, he was your best friend as you were his.
One time Lo'ak got into major trouble and at communal dinner someone made a joke calling you "the better twin." And it irked you to the bone. "That's not funny." You would say before returning to your previous conversation. And with all of this your father was very protective sometimes you think it's because he sees your Uncle Tommy in you doesn't wanna lose you how he lost Tommy, he never does talk about your uncle but you can just feel it.
When you had to move to the Metkayina clan it was hard but you tried your best to be happy. And when you got there it was nothing like you expected. They said you had demon blood, that hurt but you deflected it as much as you could. And then there was Ao'nung, when he first saw you he thought that his heart was going to explode in his chest your beauty was undeniable. But he was a big teaser at you and your siblings but his sister smacked some sense into him.
He would leave flirty remarks, "Looking good Y/N." When you would swim or, "How's my favorite forest girly doing." He would say or your personal favorite, "Pretty girl." and you would just reply kindly, with a "Thank you Ao'nung." Or a small, "I am fine how are you." and that just wrapped him into your love spell deeper.
Then he started to help you with things, even when you didn't need it. He just wanted a reason to be close with you. You thought he was just being helpful, but sometimes you couldn't help but get butterflies in your stomach when his hand would graze yours when lifting something into the docks, or when he addressed you as pretty girl and it drove you insane.
And now he here he was looking at his reflection making sure his hair was right before he went to talk to your father, Jake Sully. The Toruk Makto. Hell yeah he was scared but it would all be worth it. He walked into your families mauri only Jake was there sharpening his dagger. Ao'nung gulped a wad of saliva. His palms were sweaty and sweat threatened to spill all over his body.
He took a deep breath composing himself. "Hello Jake." Ao'nung spoke bringing his fingers from his forehead outward towards Jake as a sign of respect. "Ao'nung." Jake spoke suspiciously. "If you are looking for any of my kids I do not know except Y/N she's out collecting pearls for her little sister." He said sighing afterwards.
"No sir I just came to ask you something important." Ao'nung said Jake stood up at the seriousness in the younger males voice. "Yes of course what is it." Jake said. "I would like to ask for your blessing to court your daughter." Ao'nung spoke quickly and swiftly. And it seemed all the color drained from Jake's face. "M-my d-daughter Kiri?!?" Jake said running his hands over his face distraught. "No! Not Kiri, Y/N." Ao'nung corrected the male.
Jake turns to him, protective dad overload. And just before he could speak you walked in. "Hello fathe- Ao'nung, hey." You say indigo painting your face as Ao'nung says hello doing the forehead motion to you as he did to Jake, but Jake could tell he was flirting, right in front of him!
Jake looks at the interaction dread filling him. "What are you doing here?" You ask softly putting a bag filled with pearls down looking at him. "Oh I was just asking your father," Ao'nung took a deep breath once again before telling him he was asking for your father blessing. "His blessing to court you." He said turning back to his father.
A sense of excitement and happiness could be felt anyone in a ten foot radius of you. You looked at your father huge smile plastered on your face shaking your head up and down, yes. Your father took one deep breath and closed his eyes before he spoke, "Yes, you have my blessing." Jake said and Ao'nung turned to you and gave you a smile just as big as yours. "But," your dad said making you turn your attention to him. "You don't go anywhere alone I was a teenager not long ago I know what's going through that pea sized brain and I am not, repeat not having a baby under this roof, so help me god I will kill yo-" "Dad!" You yell stopping the threats being thrown at a shocked Ao'nung.
Oh and, when your brothers found out you were being courted all hell broke loose. "How could you let my baby sister be courted but that fish boy!" Neteyam spoke. "I am not a baby." You say as you finish separating fruits as your mother instructed you to. "I refuse to be brothers with that fish." Lo'ak said shaking his head. "I'm not happy about it either but if he makes her happy then let it be." Your father said to them. "Oh you are acting like children." You say throwing a price of fruit at your father.
6K notes · View notes
Text
I'm falling so badly, I'm coming apart
Things you do that make them fall deeper in love with you ♡
feat. Ace and Deuce
I write the reader as female
Masterlist
Ace Trappola
When you not only indulge in his whims but actively and happily encourage him
He teases you by asking you to be his cheerleader during a basketball game and you take him on by appearing in the front row of the stand, carrying a huge banner with his name over your head and loudly yelling his name for the whole island to hear 
You his heart race and face flush for reasons that had nothing to do with the adrenaline of the match as he jogs over to you and plants a kiss onto your lips, smiling as he hears your breathless gasp and feels your hands interlock around his neck, pulling you closer in front of the whole gymnasium
Or when he’s goofing around, fully expecting you to give him that endeared but exasperated look he adores only to find that you - the responsible, reliable and hard working prefect - are goofing around with him
And it fills him with such unimaginable euphoria, when he sees the childlike sparkle in your eyes as you beam at him and his antics, when you mirror his teasing grin and play off of him so perfectly it’s like your souls were intertwined 
It just makes him feel so fluttery that you love him not despite his flaws but also with his flaws
Sure it does hurt a little, when he hears whispers about how tough it must be for you to be babysitting dating such a tactless troublemaker, at how horrible it must be to settle for someone who could only bring you down when you have so many other admirers that are much better suited for you, but when you look so beautiful wearing his clothes, laugh at his jokes, smile so genuinely that your face glows so ethereally, all his worries get pushed to the side
When others would roll their eyes and mutter about him being his usual obnoxious self, you smile at him all soft and gentle, like you can see past his cocky exterior and right into his heart which has your name engraved inside it
And when you bless him with that loving gaze, eyes brimming with pride as you throw your arms around him in an embrace, saying his name so sweetly he fully understands why sailors would willingly drown themselves whenever sirens would whisper a syllable, when you proudly stand next to him as you call him your boyfriend or refer to yourself as his girlfriend, he knows
He knows that your heart has his name on it as well
Deuce Spade
When you love both sides of him
He can’t help the rosiness that blooms over his nose and cheeks when you coddle his soft side; making him adorable bento boxes and omurice meals, when you smile so dearly when he prattles on about his day, when you gift him bouquets of flowers and plush chicks despite his pouty insistence on that being his job, when you take time out of your already overloaded schedule to study with him and not getting the slightest bit annoyed at his slow uptake (instead choosing to praise him for every correct answer), when you drown him in affection for every good grade, every track and field win, every time he feels like his dream of being an honour student isn’t as impossible as he initially thought
When you show just how proud you are of his change for the better, just how much you believe in him
And also when you’re not only unperturbed by his shameful delinquent side that he still fights to keep at bay, but you also dote on it, lovingly bandaging his bruised knuckles, your gentle eyes staring right into his as you press soft kisses against plasters and bandages that he swore he would never wear again (though the baby chicks decorating the plasters you carry around in your bag aren’t exactly as unappealing as the old bandages his younger self would proudly parade)
When you don’t even hesitate to press your lips against his cheeks or mouth when he inevitably slips up and spits out gruff curses, lowers his voice with a growl lets a threatening snarl pull at his lips as he clenches his fist, hackles raised and ready to strike, only stopping himself when he feels your hand make its home in his - and, well, your pecks don’t exactly stop his subsequent self hatred and guilt but it certainly does 
Though he does feel some shame for it, he feels absolutely enamored in you wearing his old leather jacket. He swore that useless old thing could bring back nothing but horrid memories of fights and tears but seeing you so happily cuddle into it, all he could feel was fondness and longing. And, he realises that, yeah, maybe there are some things about his past that don’t leave such a bad taste in his mouth as you smile at him when his gloved hands click his helmet straps into place under your chin, or as he feels your body pressed flush against him as he takes you for a late afternoon spin on his magical wheel, drinking in your excited whoops as he akira slides down a deserted road 
And when you give him that look, that piercing look that tells him that you know about the inner contents of his head, that makes him feel like a butterfly pinned to a wall, his thoughts being laid bare, inspected and examined, yet still let yourself melt against him and kiss him with just as much love and desperation that consumes him
It makes him feel almost worthy to call you his
438 notes · View notes
s0ulsniper · 4 months
Text
im yours. bucky barnes x afab!reader || b.b.
Tumblr media
pairings: bucky barnes x afab!reader
synopsis: the power goes off in the tower, leaving you to try to stumble down to the living room where everyone was told to meet.
warnings: she/her pronouns used, cursing, both reader and bucky are teases.
Tumblr media
tonight had been more than amusing, but also tiring. leaving your saturday night to tony's plans was definitely a choice that you cannot stop making. to give him some credit, his parties are definitely fun, and hanging out with everyone on top of that, too.
but- it always leaves you sprawled out on your bed with the dimly lit television the only thing lighting up your room, other than the obvious street lights.
your head was pounding and your body ached, nothing could quite help that especially with how little you care to help yourself.
that's when the tv shutoff. at first you suspected it was just a glitch of some sort and your groaned as your reached for the remote.
it didn't turn on, even after the 42nd time of pressing it. you took it upon yourself to glance out of the window, moving your curtain slightly to peer out.
none of the city had any sort of power outage.
weird.
the next thing that came to mind is one of the idiots are pranking you.
your eyes roll at the thought. how selfish could they be knowing that you were trying to rest? maybe tony got too drunk and decided to fuck around.
you settled on just going to find out for yourself.
wow, gotta thank tony for not giving out any sort of flashlights.
you use any force you have left to rise yourself from bed. your muscles ache and you wish this didn't ever happen.
the pitch black darkness didn't help you either, everything you knew was there you bumped into causing you to let out a string of curses and you were sure anyone in a 30 foot radius could hear it.
you eventually find your way into the hallway, thankful for some sort of light from the windows.
you get a text, feeling your phone buzz in your pocket.
you open it to read Tony announcing that he had infact overloaded some sort of something and he's going to have to fix it, so everyone was to meet in the living room.
"perfect." you sigh out, annoyed.
not only is that the furthest from you but you knew it would be at least a few hours until it's fixed.
you turn around to the opposite direction, failing to notice the plant at your feet.
"fuck." you grumble when your foot makes contact with the pot.
you whince, trying to walk on it but failing miserably.
"seriously? you’ve lived here for how many years, and you still can’t find your way around without the lights off?” you hear someone laugh behind you.
"don't wanna hear it right now, bucky." you mumble.
his demeanor changes and he pushes himself off the wall to catch up with you.
"what's wrong, doll?"
"oh nothing, just having an amazing night." you retort, sarcastically.
he almost audibly cringes at that, first no nickname, then the sarcasm? something is definitely wrong.
he grabs your wrist to stop you from walking and pulls you towards him, embracing you in a tight hug.
" 'm not letting go till you tell me what's wrong, doll." he mumbles into the crook of your neck.
you relax at his touch and he notices, rubbing incoherent shapes into the dip if your back.
"just real tired, buck. went too hard on myself during training today 'n partied a little too hard."
you loved it when he hugged you like this, the contrast of the cold metal and warm body was only something he would let you know of, well and Steve.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. you really gotta tell me when you feel like this. coulda been helping you." he whispers, rubbing your back and hips. " 'specially since I know how you are. always neglecting yourself. doll, you need a break."
and before you know it he picks you up. on instinct you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling his arms hold your thighs.
"what are you doing?" you quiz as you feel him start to walk, not fast but enough to get you guys going to the living room a couple stories down and on the opposite side of the building.
" 'm not letting you walk, just go to sleep doll."
you don't push it more than that, dropping your head to his shoulder with your arms loosely above his, feeling yourself drift to sleep.
you wakeup from the ambiance of your friends talking, feeling yourself slouched against someone on the couch. the lights were still well off, and you were sure it had only been maybe 30 minutes.
you raise your head to see a couple of candles lit here and there. it was enough to see everyone scattered across the living room, Bruce and Nat were chatting on the opposite end of the couch, Steve and Sam sound asleep on the floor, Thor was also sound asleep on the recliner, Pietro, vision and Wanda were sat on another couch watching something on their phone, and you suspected Bruce, Tony, pepper, and rhodey were trying to fix the power somewhere around the tower.
that's when you panicked to look around for bucky, eyes darting around the living room.
"right here, sweetheart." he chuckles.
you turn too see that you were definitely straddling him as you had been when he picked you up.
your lips quirk up trying not to laugh at yourself. instead you slump back against him, hiding your face in his neck.
"embarrassing." you mumble.
"it was cute." you can practically hear him smiling.
"you think so?" you tease, bringing your face up just a few inches from his.
his face flushes and you smile.
"sure know how to shut me up." he whispers not to bother the others. "be mine."
it was unexpected, although it's the only thing that's been on both of your minds for awhile.
"sure know how to shut me up." you whisper back with reddened cheeks.
he nudges your face up with his pointer finger, his face even closer than before.
his eyes dart from yours to your lips.
"say the word and I'll stop."
his hand doesn't leave your chin, but instead slides to the nape of your neck to draw you closer until you feel his lips on yours.
your lips move together like puzzle pieces and it's something you two have been waiting for and dreaming about for eternity it felt like.
you pull away despite you both not wanting to, either way you two are still around the rest and it cannot get further than that.
your foreheads rest together, both regaining the breaths you lost.
"please be mine." he whispers just so you could hear.
you lay back against him to fall back asleep.
"I'm yours." you whisper back.
Tumblr media
746 notes · View notes
charliemwrites · 2 months
Text
Government Asset Soap! This is half of the last part (the smut got too long and I wanted to post this dammit).
So consider this part 4.5? idk it's late.
Usual CW for this series with dubcon, mean Soap, post-trauma coping.
It’s probably a fire hazard, the candles. They’re sprinkled across your little cabin like fireflies, feeble but steady heartbeats of a home you’re failing to build. Too many of them, likely. Two, sometimes three, per room. Tiny tealights, smokeless soy, scented pine. It would be easier, safer, to just turn on the lamps you foolishly invested in.
You can’t bear anything brighter than golden halogen anymore, though. The glare drags you back to a tiny cell bisected by cruel metal, holding back an even crueler fate. No, you’d much rather wade through pools of shadow and firelight, fire code be damned.
It’s a small cabin, but you’ve already cluttered it up with furniture and rugs, a theme for each room. Yellow and blue for the kitchen. Purple and cream for the den. Green and brown for your bedroom. Nooks to hide in, spaces to squeeze into, big shapes to huddle behind. You’ll never be caught out in a cold, barren room ever again.
Your days are long regardless of the time of year. Get groceries in town every day, making a point to be friendly and seen so that someone might notice if you suddenly stop coming. Clean incessantly, so many surfaces to dust. Pick hobbies like daisies. Knitting and crocheting, different paint styles, felting. You’re contemplating carpentry, would like to build shelves for all the books stacked up in the den. Keep a dream journal by your bed that you neglect for weeks at a time.
You draw out the nights until you can count the hours until dawn on one hand. Stay up baking, making homemade ink, learning new ways to style your hair, anything, anything, anything—
It’s not the sleeping – or at least that’s not the worst of it. It’s the waking.
Laswell suggested a cat.
You told her to stop suggesting pussy to unstable people.
But it’s still not a bad idea. Another living thing to keep you accountable; the plants are pretty and time-consuming, but not good company.
You talk yourself out of it every time, knowing the worst-case scenario. It’s not catastrophizing if it actually happens, and you can feel an invisible time weighing on your shoulders like another gravity. Tick, tick, tick. Heavier, heavier, heavier. It’s hard to breathe beneath the wait.
The military doesn’t do apologies. It does platitudes at best. Well wishes and good intentions are painted in brushstrokes of blood. Victory flags are planted on bodies, living or otherwise. Laswell apologized. She swore that if there had been another way – any other way…
She didn’t promise to leave you alone. Didn’t assure you that you’d never see her or her goons again.
If you thought it would do any good, you’d tip one of the candles over and set it all aflame. Rebirth through fire. But you never did figure yourself for a phoenix. And besides, a phoenix is still itself, even when the ash falls away.
So, you spool out your time like picking at tapestry threads, one thin string at time.
Tonight, it’s bread. Cinnamon chocolate babka, to be specific. You were craving something sweet. Are debating the merits of some sort of cream cheese icing while you shower off the long, ever-busy day.
Have decided on an optimistic why not as you slip out to begin your overly complicated self-care routine. Moisturizers, hair oils, lotion. An unexpected benefit of overloading yourself, you suppose. Even when you first got out of the military, you didn’t take such good care of yourself. You have a jogging route now. You’re handling your trauma every possible way except therapy. (And sleeping.) Better than nothing, you figure.
The candles have gone out in your bedroom. You click your tongue in annoyance, trying to remember where you left the matches this time. Bedside table?
You pad across the soft carpet, using the edge of the bed as a guide in the pitch black. The only other problem with candles is that their humble light doesn’t reach very far. But you know this house and keep the floors tidy enough that you’re confident you won’t trip.
Make it to the nightstand without incident and pat around. Knock the side of your hand into the little carton and only just catch it before it hits the deck. Let out a little huff and start to fumble it open.
“Nice catch, bonnie.”
You gasp, but your voice doesn’t get any farther than the back of your tongue. The box slips from your numb fingers, matchsticks scattering across the floor. He tsks.
“Shame that. We’ll get ‘em later.”
You can’t move. Can barely breathe. You’re just frozen, heart thundering with a sudden storm of fear and confusion. Hands still aloft in front of you, spine rigid, knees locked.
You feel more than hear movement behind you, and then the warmth of his body seeping into your naked skin. Not quite touching. Not yet.
“Missed you, little bird,” he rasps in your ear.
You always thought that in a moment like this you would scream. Kick and elbow and fight, damn your certain loss. But when it comes down to it, survival drowns out all those stupid, haughty ideas about pride and dignity. So you don’t curse and shout like you always fancied you would.
You whisper, “Soap.”
He hums but it sounds like a growl in your panicked state. “Missed me too, aye? You’re already naked fer me.”
His hands are searing when they settle on your waist like they belong there. He pulls you back against him; in the dark he’s bigger, broader than you remember. At least, you think, he’s fully clothed for now.
“What are you… how are you here?” you ask.
He barks a laugh, mean and rough. “Was only a matter of time after that shite they pulled.”
You squeeze your eyes shut and see it recreated in the phosphenes behind your lids.
Soap buried balls deep inside of you, murmuring a constant stream of filth as he got harder and harder inside you. Filling you up as you twitched around him, oversensitive and teary, afraid of what would come next.
Then the lights flashed, flicked red. An alarm sounded, Laswell’s voice ordering Soap away from you. But he just snarled and hunched over you, hips snapping to bury himself right back inside while you cried out.
The locked door swung in, armed guards swarming in. Yanked Soap off you while you scrambled to cover yourself. Someone grabbing your arm none too gently to pull you from the room. Soap wild-eyed and snarling like something possessed, until he was overtaken by struggling guards and you were trembling naked in that damned hallway.
“Was mad at you, at first, cannae lie,” he says, almost conversational. Your eyes snap open, though you know it’ll do you no good. “But I’ve had time to think on it. Wasnae yer fault, was it? Saw them drag you out.”
An awful relief floods you. Fuck dignity, fuck honesty. This is Soap right behind you, completely unrestrained and unsupervised.
“Yeah,” you answer, voice small. “I didn’t know they would do that. What… um. What happened to you?”
He presses his face into your damp hair, pressing closer, snaking his arms to squeeze you against him.
“Sent me off on some shite mission,” he explains, “probably hoped I’d die out there. You smell so good, lass.”
You shiver as his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your neck. Hot, humid.
“And… and then what?” you insist, trying to stall.
You’re not sure what you’re stalling for. There will be no miraculous saves here – not that you really got any last time. It’s not like there’s any real plan to be made here, either. None that you’d be confident enough to risk his wrath on.
“Disappeared. Took care of business. Came to get my pretty little bird.”
A rough hand trails over the curve of your hip, brush the neat curls of your mound. You suck in a breath, hands twitching with the urge to stop him but not sure of putting up resistance when you’re still unsure of his mental state.
“And what about you, hm?” he rumbles. “Been a good girl while I’ve been away?”
His fingers dart down towards your entrance, not nearly prepared for anything. Least of all his thick digits.
“Y-yes!” you yelp, grabbing at his wrist. Relief makes you dizzy when you manage to stop him. “I-I’ve been good. Which means I’m not… I can’t just take you. I need… I need prep.”
He huffs, nips at the tender spot beneath your ear. The thrill that shoots through your stomach is terrifying.
“That’s what these are for, bonnie.”
And to your horror, he starts to push past your resistance like your staying hands aren’t there at all.
“John!”
He freezes. You shudder air into your burning lungs, feeling dizzy on panic.
You can get through this without pain, just think.
“I haven’t even got to see you,” you stutter, voice shaky. Can’t quite inject the disappointment you’re trying for, but hopefully it’ll work. “And I bet you’re all dirty from travel.”
He grumbles. “So what?”
You scramble to think of a satisfactory response. “S-so let’s get reacquainted in the shower, yeah? That way I can see your handsome face, at least.”
He chuckles, grazes his teeth “playfully” across your cheek. “Bossy thing.”
“You like it.”
And to your shock, he agrees with an amused huff. Hauls you up in his arms and walks you back to the still muggy bathroom. You’re set on your feet and spun around, chin jerked up to receive a savage kiss. All tongue and teeth, no finesse. He’s just licking into your mouth, hungry and animalistic, spit dribbling down your chin.
When he finally pulls away, you blink spots from your vision. Finally focus on his smug features and make a soft, horrified noise when you register the splatter of crimson across them.
“Och, that? My little bird had watchers.”
Of course you did. The horror ebbs a bit. Resentment has made you indiscriminately bitter.
“Oh,” you say, “th-thank you. Definitely glad we’re showering first, then.”
“Squeamish?”
You’d like to know when the world turned upside down and John fucking “Soap” MacTavish began teasing you about the blood on his face.
“A bit,” you admit.
“Poor dear,” he coos. “Hard to believe we were made for each other sometimes, aye? Complementary, we are.”
Is that what he thinks? Christ.
You turn to start the shower again, spine prickling with the weight of his eyes on your back. The water rushes down and then he’s crowding you against the cold wall beneath the (thankfully) warm spray.
“Y-you’re still dressed!” you protest between sharp nips to your collarbone.
“Fix it, then,” he snarls.
You claw his shirt up his back, get momentarily distracted by the impressive display of muscle hidden beneath. Draw your palms over his chest and feel him shudder.
“Fuckin’ heavenly, love,” he purrs. “Missed this.”
A vague memory comes back to you, him gripping you close because he felt you naked against him for the first time. Him admitting he hasn’t had affectionate touch in a while.
This… this you could work with.
646 notes · View notes
thedevilspearl · 1 year
Text
awkward moments during sex — younger bros
Tumblr media
a/n: a continuation of funny and awkward moments that happen during sex with the brothers, but this time with the younger brothers (older brothers here).
tags: 2.5k words. female reader x satan (edging, orgasm control), asmodeus (no warnings), beelzebub (manhandling, breeding kink, mating press, minor injury) + belphegor (mild somnophillia). minors do not interact!
Tumblr media
𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐍
your fingers slip nimbly through his blonde hair, gliding through the strands as if they’re made of the finest of silks. satan leaves an entourage of nips and bruises along your neckline, each of them planted with more desperation than the last.
his hips roll against yours; not fast enough, and not slow enough. and yet, he seems to find the perfect combination of pace and rhythm which drives you crazy.
it keeps you in limbo, with hope on one side and despair on the other. a purgatory of sorts.
he loves to torment you like this; his teething grin tells you that. and with his head buried in the nook of your shoulder, he peeps up only to appreciate the overwrought look on your face. your brows furrow in such a way that he doesn’t know if you’re about to cry, or if you’re about to cum.
you suppose that’s why he loves it so much — satan has always been fond of a good mystery, always wanting to discover what comes next in earnest. he’s enthusiastic to say the least.
his rutting hips grow a little more fervent, earning a most dulcet moan from your lips. he captures it in his own, swallowing it whole and locking it away deep in the ravenous hollows of his body. you fill him up in ways he never expected, and he can’t get enough of you.
“satan,” you whimper, evoking a sadistic smirk on his face. “please…”
“please what, my dear?”
the endearment in his voice alone is enough to make your guts feel like they’re being rearranged — though, his cock is doing a perfectly fine job of that already.
“i wanna cum!”
every one of your senses tosses you back and forth over a very thin line. one second, you’re free to fall into a sea of bliss, ready to be washed away by the intensity of the orgasms he brings upon your body. and the next, you’re tied up in the confines of satan’s control. he decides when you finish, not the other way around.
the nerves in your body are working overtime, analysing each second and anticipating whether or not he will give you what you so desperately desire. your brain is moments away from turning numb from the overload of feelings, both physical and emotional.
so much that the creaks of satan’s old, wooden bed go unregistered.
he thrusts harder, faster with the promise that he’ll soon be done with you, and you can finally succumb to the ecstasy you’ve been reaching for.
“satan!” you squeal, locking your trembling legs around his hips. “i’m close!”
“me too, baby,” he grunts with each rut and grabs your cheeks, making sure of the eye contact between you. “we’re almost there.”
he makes a point of driving his cock to the hilt of your pussy, and his strength passes straight through your body into the foundations of his bed. all it takes is one more thrust to break apart the timbers of the worn out wood.
the mattress beneath you softens your land as the bed collapses, but the impact from satan’s body falling on top off you knocks the air out of your lungs. his limbs dig into you and you groan.
“shit,” he mutters, and his hands fly to your face, inspecting your pained expression. “are you okay?”
“not really,” satan rises with you, arms delicately holding your frame until you’re sat upright on the wreck of what was once his bed. “are you?”
“yes,” he chuckles, leaning his head against you before planting a kiss on your cheek. “because the sex was literally bed–breaking. and no, because lucifer is going to have a lot to say about this.”
Tumblr media
𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒
asmo has tonnes of attention and he loves to give it away freely, just as much as he loves to receive it. you’re special, though. he makes a point of that every time your insecurities begin niggle away at you.
whenever he feels you drawing away, he’ll pull you closer than ever before, never letting you out of his sight. with all the fame and love, most people tend to forget how lonely a person can become. and that’s why he chose you.
you took that loneliness from deep inside and destroyed it in the palm of your hand. you filled all the void parts of his body and soul with your existence alone; no one thinks about the demons a demon can have, and all it took was one smile from you to scare them all away.
you helped him in more ways than one, so he never wants you to feel alone or inferior — you’ll always be his number one despite his fans and fame and ego.
he must say, though, he is quite proud of how far you’ve come. asmo had immediately picked up on those small traits of yours, the ones that signal you spiralling into the pool of your greatest fears. the nervous fidgeting whenever he spoke to other demons at school, the daylight dazing out when you find yourself lost in thoughts, and the sudden silence when he’s livestreaming to his fans, like right now.
asmo was fully prepared to pepper you with praises and kisses as soon as he finished — he’s more than willing to give you attention. but the fact is, you stole it already, along with his breath.
he freezes for a second before licking his lips and glancing back and forth between your teasing and his screen. he mumbles and stutters whilst trying to hide his growing erection from his fans. meanwhile, you sway your hips seductively behind the camera, slipping the silk gown from your shoulders to reveal your naked body.
“today was really fun, my darlings,” he waves and blows a kiss to the screen immediately. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
he taps his screen rapidly before jumping on you, grabbing your ass and lifting you. your lips intertwine in seconds and he drops you onto the mattress with out breaking contact.
“someone’s feeling bold,” he teases between kisses. “i like it.”
“mmh, i figured i should be more forward with my needs,” you say with a daring smile. “i think it seems to be working, don’t you?”
“oh, it’s working,” asmo expertly removes his clothing, and occupies himself in the meantime by kissing up and down your body, burning patterns into your skin until he meets your lips again.
“asmo… hurry.” you whine and he heeds your words, aligning himself with your soaked entrance.
“i love you, my darling,” he feeds you one last kiss before pushing in, and the two of you groan in unison. “i love you so much.”
“i love you too, asmo.”
you gasp loudly as his cock stretches your walls, and your clench around his length as if he was made perfectly for you to take. you’re seconds away from screaming his name when—
knock, knock, knock.
you freeze and the knocking is followed by lucifer’s commanding voice.
“asmodeus, you might want to end your livestream before continuing with your… activities.”
“what?!”
scrambling, you gather the blanket against your chest, tucking your legs underneath to hide your nude body. this can’t be happening…
“oh, my,” asmo tuts. “it looks like i pressed the wrong button.”
he makes his way back to his ddd set up on his desk, dragging a blanket to cover himself from the hips down. you expect him to turn it off immediately, but instead he starts reading the flying comments that you’re too embarrassed to even think about.
“hhm, everyone seems to be enjoying it,” he looks to you with a seductively intriguing glint in his eyes. “what do you say, honey? why don’t we give them a show?”
Tumblr media
𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁
“oh my goodness, beel!”
juices flow from your pussy and his mouth finally parts with it after bringing you to your umpteenth orgasm. your mind is foggy from the highs and beel rises, hands roaming your body and placing you exactly how he sees fit.
the back of your knees rest against his arms and his hands sneak under your body, locking you in place. he has you folded in half, literally. his feet are planted flat in the mattress and his immense weight pushes you down further.
you haven’t fucked in this position before, but you have a feeling beel is going to destroy your needy cunt. you take a liking to this inner beast controlling him right now; he must be so hungry…
his lips are coated with your essence, the one that works like a spell, entrancing him in such a state that he can only think about how much he needs you.
this is going to be good.
the tip of his enormous cock prods at your entrance and eagerly pushes in. hissing from his girth stretching you out, you wonder if it’s possible that you’ll ever get used to beel splitting you open on his cock.
“ngh,” you groan gutturally, unable to form a decipherable sentence. “s–so big!”
“i’m gonna fill you up, baby,” he growls and pushes in deeper. “gonna fill you with my cum.”
he slams into you, and an unbridled yelp escapes you before he raises his hips, only to slam them back down again. each of his thrusts rattle the entire bedframe and you’re afraid the brother next door might storm in with noise complaints.
a cacophony of sinful sounds fill the room — beel’s animalistic growls, your wanton moans, the obscenely lewd noises coming from your bodies, and of course, the shaking of everything around you.
he’s fucking you so hard it might cause an earthquake.
the mattress bounces along with both of your bodies, fucking like animals in heat. his cock drags in and out of your pussy and you’re losing count of all the orgasms he’s forcing you to endure. you’re extremely sensitive from him eating you out for hours and you don’t know how long it will take for beel to feel some sort of satiation.
being both starved and gluttonous is a dangerous combination, and this version of beel is a prime example of that. he pushes your thighs down further, allowing himself to explore deeper and you feel another orgasm creeping on you.
and it’s only a matter of time before beel finishes too, and he’s going to fill you to the brim with his cum before using it to fuck you some more, pushing his seed deep inside you. you can’t wait for the day he finally breeds you.
“fuck, beel!” you screech, not caring how ridiculously desperate you sound. “come on, stuff me full with your cum! want you to knock me up!”
“gonna fill you up,” he grunts with every thrust. “i’ll fill you with my—”
“aah, i’m so tired… wait, what’s going on here?”
before you can look in the direction of the door, beel literally flips you over and flings your body to the side, unknowingly using his full strength which causes you to collide into the wall.
“what the fuck?!” you yelps, tears brimming your eyes from the impact.
did he just throw you across the room?
but you have no time to yell at him because belphegor is standing in the doorway with his eyes locked onto your naked body. your hands fly to hide your private parts, but you are stark naked and daring not to move.
meanwhile, beel sits nonchalantly on his bed, covering his crotch with the sheets. “nothing. nothing is going on.”
belphie doesn’t seem convinced, which doesn’t come as a surprise and he slowly backs out, closing the door behind him.
not a second after he leaves, you throw the dirtiest, most disgusted look of betrayal at beel. “every man for himself, huh?”
“i’m so sorry, mc,” he glooms. “i panicked.”
“panicked? you threw me across the room!”
Tumblr media
𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑
“belphie,” you whisper, shaking the shoulders of his sleeping form. “belphie, wake up.”
a grumble sounds from his limp frame, and you roll your eyes, shaking him harder.
“belphie, please wake up,” and with a sigh, you add, “i’m horny.”
again, nothing.
chewing on your lips in thought, your hands mindlessly graze over your body — your breasts, squeezing them with a gasp; your hips, grabbing them exactly where belphie loves; and your thighs, digging into your flesh with desperation.
you don’t realise your pitiful actions, nor the broken moan that escapes you until belphie rolls onto his other side, his back now facing you.
a pout forms on your lips and you grab him again, shaking him with all your might. but your frustration passes right through his sleeping form.
“belphegor, wake up right now! i need you!”
“keep it down…”
giving up, you flop onto the mattress beside him, unable to remove your eyes from his peaceful face. as unsatisfactory as his response is, your body still needs to be put at ease. and you can’t do that without some form of relief.
before you know it, your fingers slip below the line of your underwear and a shaky breath escapes you. you make work of yourself, thrusting your fingers in and out while imagining belphie’s cock driving hard into your pussy.
what you would give for him to open his eyes and plant his fingertips into the softness of your hips, holding you in place beneath his sweating body as he slams into you, his cock making its mark all along your walls.
“fuck…” you whimper, with a hint of his name among your quiet moans as you cum.
belphie has yet to move an inch, completely ignorant to you and your orgasm. so much for quality time. with your eyelids drooping, you allow yourself to sink into the sheets and pillows, carefully snuggling into belphie’s body as to not wake him.
an hour passes, or maybe two, possibly more and belphegor finally stirs. he yawns with little energy and rolls onto his back, but his arm stays wrapped around you, tucking you into his chest. all it takes is one look for that swirling sensation in his stomach to come alive.
he looks down at his crotch and sees that the problem goes further than so–called butterflies; his hardened cock stretches the material of his pants. morning wood has never been so persistent since you came along.
every remnant of sleep is gone in an instant and he’s on top of you, lips pressed against your neck and hands sneaking up your shirt, squeezing your hips on their way to your tits.
“hah…” small gasps and moans escape him as his hips jut against you. “what are you doing to me?”
he hates that innocent look on your face, so oblivious to the effect you have on him and to what he is doing to you. but that innocence is also what turns him on. god, he could just devour you whole like the sick demon he is and you wouldn’t know a thing because you’re far to busy dreaming something sweet.
it’s almost like he can smell it, the dream. or, a more logical explanation would be the sweetness between your legs. your glistening slit has him drooling when he pulls your panties away and he soon makes work of freeing his aching cock from his own clothes.
“mc,” he whispers against you with a kiss. “wake up, i’m horny.”
your eyes open slightly, and as soon as you register his hot, naked body above you, you roll over to the side with a huff.
“not now, belphie. i’m tired.”
well, he supposes this is what he deserves. it’s a taste of his own medicine, after all.
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
queen-of-the-avengers · 5 months
Text
Hangover Remedy
Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~700
Warnings: fluff, bad hangover
Summary: There's nothing worse than having a hangover went he air conditioning is broken on a hot summer day. Luckily, Loki is around to help cool you down.
Squares Filled: hangover (2023) for @lokibingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
Tumblr media
x
The sun is peeking into your room like the menace she is. Get up, Y/N! Time to get the hell up and do something productive! You can practically hear her yell at you, and the sunlight seems to shine brighter at the thought. You groan and turn away from the window not having enough energy to get out of bed and close the curtains.
What the hell happened last night? You have a pounding headache and achy body. Tony threw a party at the compound and invited everyone he knew. Thor came over with alcohol from Asgard. Everyone knows you. They knew if he presented you with alcohol from Asgard, you’d challenge him to a drink off. You’re never the one to back down from a challenge even though everyone told you to.
Now you have a raging headache and an aching body because of it.
If you’re going to combat this hangover then you have to at least get out of bed. You roll your body off the side of the bed and plant your feet firmly on the ground. With all your strength, you stand up. The headache seems to get worse at higher elevation but you deal through the pain. Not only do you have to deal with a nasty hangover, it’s unbearably hot. Sweat sticks to your skin making your clothes cling to your body.
You walk to the bathroom and brush your teeth. If you’re not going to do anything today, you have to at least do that. You shuffle down the hallway to the kitchen where Tony is. He’s making something to eat and looks up when he hears you come in.
“We thought you were dead,” he chuckles.
“Shh.” You close your eyes and hold your finger up to silence him. “You’re too loud.” You open the fridge and grab a cold bottle of water. You chug half of it. “Turn the air on, would ya?”
“No can do. The air conditioning unit is busted.”
“You’re Tony Stark. How can your air conditioning be broken?”
“Since you’re the one who overloaded Friday when you sprayed alcohol all over the motherboard.”
“Sorry,” you wince.
“Tell that to everyone else. I’m outta here. I’m going to Pepper’s house where it’s cold. The repair guy is coming later today to fix it.”
Tony grabs a water bottle and leaves the kitchen. You sigh and walk into the living room to see Loki sitting on the couch reading a book. If he knows you’ve entered the room he doesn’t show it. You walk over to the couch and sit next to him, and he peeks at you from over the top of the book.
“Rough night?” he smirks.
“Shut up.”
“I told you not to outdrink Thor. You weren't going to win.”
“Scold me tomorrow. Right now, I need total silence.”
Loki goes back to reading his book while you lean your head on the back of the couch. It’s still uncomfortably hot inside the compound so there’s not a position on the couch that feels good. Since you and Loki are on the same couch, every movement you exert makes him move. He sighs in frustration and lowers his book.
“Stop moving.”
“It’s hot in here.” You use your hands to shift on the couch when you feel something cool radiate onto your hand. You touch Loki’s arm which is cold to the touch. “You’re freezing!”
“One of the perks of being a Frost Giant, love.”
You don’t think twice about what you’re about to do. You immediately cling to his side and allow his skin to cool your own. He hates other people touching him but when he sees the content look on your face, he decides that maybe this isn’t so bad. He shifts on the couch to make it more comfortable for the both of you, and he wraps an arm around your body. He opens his book back up and continues to read as if you’re not there.
His cool skin and your raging hangover are enough to make you fall back asleep. You stay like this for the rest of the afternoon. Before the sun sets, Thor, Tony, and Steve come back from wherever they are with laughter in the air and smiles on their faces. Loki glares at them from across the room which makes them stop in their tracks.
“If one of you wakes her up, I’m stabbing all three of you.”
“He’s serious,” Thor whispers. “We should go.”
Loki smirks at their retreating figures and smiles when he feels you snuggle closer to him.
Tumblr media
x
Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
507 notes · View notes
the-hipster-nugget · 7 months
Text
The bit where everybody came to dogwarts to plant the tnt minecart trap and Martyn was just so overstimulated and goes “sensory overload!!” cuz of all the people and noises around god he’s so everything. My autism rep
Tumblr media
680 notes · View notes
risustravelogue · 6 months
Text
Marks On You
Summary:
What would you get when you get frisky with your husband, the Duke of Meropide, throughout the day? You get bent over his desk, that's what.
Featuring:
Dom!Husband!Wriothesley, Sub!fem!Reader
Tags:
Smut. Filth. You have been warned. He basically manhandles you while you're being handcuffed. Marking, biting, breeding. Sweet aftercare 💕
Note:
I wrote this throughout the week and thought it would lie there unfinished like my bookshelf sex Alhaitham smut (hehe yes) but I suddenly had an inspiration for the opening line. ... I am so down bad for this man.
🔗 AO3 | masterlist 🔗
Tumblr media
Wriothesley loves it when you’re feeling frisky.
You’d tease him and he’d tease back; you’d steal pecks and kisses whenever you pass each other throughout the day, to his delight and amusement; and your hands would always find their way to his body—touching first innocently, then it gets increasingly not-so-innocent as the hours pass by.
Wriothesley loves it when you’re feeling frisky, because it means you’ll submit completely to his carnal whims once he gets his hands on you.
And as your most beloved husband, what better reward can he get?
Such is today, when you find yourself pinned under him, all compliant and obedient and taking him so well even though it’s barely past work hours. You lay face down at the edge of his desk with your wrists cuffed behind your back, helplessly squirming as his hips slam against yours from behind. The way his length slides partly out of your hole, only for the tip to churn your insides again as his balls slap against your slick-coated clit, elicit sinful whimpers out of you. His moans are raspy, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips to hold you steady as he pounds you into submission.
“Good girl… I’ve marked you with my cum twice already, but…”
He growls beside your ear with a dangerously low voice as his fingers start playing with your sensitive bud.
“Too bad for you, it only makes me want to fuck you more.”
The sounds of both of your and his moans and wet slaps of skin echo across his office room while he thrusts into you again, again, and again, your mind going blank from the overstimulation. You try to sync your breathing with his movements to no avail, only blurting out a “Ngh– more– m-more–” as he fucks you senseless. You whine as you feel a sting on your butt from his palm meeting your ass.
“Louder,” he says. You feel his grip on your hips tighten as he pulls you into him even more.
“Ah– ah– fuck– N-no– I can’t–”
“Beg louder, I said!” he orders. He bites the side of your neck as he slams his hips hard into you.
A loud moan escapes your throat without restraint. Someone outside must’ve heard your voice, but you don’t care anymore—his cock feels too damn good.
“Breed me!” you scream. “Please– I want you to breed me–”
Wriothesley chuckles and sucks on your earlobe, sending shivers rippling through your skin.
“Good,” he murmurs. “Good girl.”
He moves his hips faster. His thrusts become more frantic as he nears the height of his ecstasy.
“Cum with me, cum with– ngh!”
His hands squeeze at your hips and his teeth sink into the skin of your nape as he reaches his climax, shooting his thick, hot cum into you yet again. You shudder and whimper as you feel pleasure overloading your senses, the addictive sensation blurring your vision into blissful oblivion. You can barely hear the clicking sounds as your husband takes the handcuffs off your wrists, whining when he slides out of you while peppering your back with gentle kisses. The duality of his actions makes you dizzy with affection.
“It’s okay. I got you,” he shushes as he turns you around. He plants a kiss on your lips, then your forehead while he gathers your limp body into his arms. He carries you to the sofa and places your head on his chest as he reclines. His hand pulls you in, pressing your cheek against his bare skin. He kisses the crown of your head while his fingers absentmindedly play with your hair.
That’s when he notices that there are some small bruises forming on your skin, mostly on your nape and the side of your neck. A pang of guilt shoots through his chest, and he feels his heartbeat becoming just a little bit erratic at the thought of hurting you.
“Was I too rough?” he asks with a quiet voice, bringing your knuckles to his lips.
“No,” you hum, unaware of the calming feeling your answer has on him. “I enjoyed every second of it.”
You plant a kiss on his flushed cheek, then nuzzle up against his neck.
“I love you,” you whisper, “I love you so much, you know that?”
Wriothesley feels his heart flutter. He buries his face in your hair, taking in your scent.
“I do,” he mumbles. “And I love you, too.”
Tumblr media
© @risustravelogue 2023 • no to reposting, yes to reblogging. feel free to send an ask to suggest, chat, etc. :)
the gorgeous mdni banner template by @/cafekitsune 💙
681 notes · View notes