#unedited because yolo

[earthtooz]

earth... i saw that anon abt rin x afterglow but hear me out... reo x sweet nothings........... WE'RE SO NORMAL ABT HIM

x : SWEET NOTHING :*+ﾟ i find myself running home to your sweet nothings.

in which: reo doesn't think he has many loveable traits. you show him otherwise.

warnings: domesticity fluff, 2k words, gn!reader, mentions of insecurity and food, pet names for the reader, there's a little angst but this is comfort, semi-unedited, semi-coherent writing sorry y'all it gets worse LMFAOOOOOOOO yolo.

a/n: this is 2k words of me purely loving reo. reo if you're reading this... hmu baby... WE ARE SO NORMAL ABOUT HIM. HERE. 2K WORDS THAT I WROTE ON A TOTAL WHIM THAT I DROPPED ALL MY DRAFTS AS SOON AS I SAW A REO ASK. this is the fastest ask i've ever whipped out. thanks for requesting :>

reo doesn’t think he has many lovable traits.

sure he’s popular, well-liked, whatever, and as much as he’s aware of how large his social circle is, reo can’t help but wonder if all of it is… just for show. that if the people around him know nothing of genuinity and dance towards him in exquisite gowns made of money, refined manners, and masks carved in ‘円’ symbols with expectations of expensive favours and luxury. 

it sickens reo a little when he thinks about it. on his worse days, he thinks that it’s all he’s worth: money upon money upon money.

is there anything else he has to offer? 

he returns home squeezed dry, mind racing with questions and he finds himself sinking under. everyone is up to something, everyone wants everything from him. he wonders when he’ll be able to take some of it back. 

the smell of steak cuts through his thoughts, filling his nose immediately as the athlete steps foot into his apartment. reo hadn’t registered how hungry he was until now, not having had anything to eat since lunch since he thought he’d have dinner but he left before it could even be served. got too fed up of the company to stick around.

since when did he become so… picky about his company?

walking into his property, he’s greeted with the sight of you dashing around his kitchen, plating multiple things at once whilst a pan sizzled atop the stovetop. it was his favourite; ichibo steak. reo’s stomach rumbles just thinking about it.

(he has an answer to his question: since you came into his life, showing him what it was like to be loved with the same fervour that he loves the rest of the world.)

“oh my-” you abruptly say, frozen when you notice the figure in the hallway, relaxing when you register that it was just your boyfriend who hadn’t the effort to make himself known. “reo, welcome home.”

he walks over to you with a small smile ghosting his lips. “hi love,” he greets, the two of you meeting halfway in a comforting embrace, one that reo melts right into. you press your face into the cold fabric of his suit, chilled by the cold weather outside. the smell of his cologne lingers. “what a pleasant surprise.”

you part, both wearing a lovestruck grin. “i hope it’s okay, you just texted me that you hadn’t had dinner and i thought it’d be nice if we eat together. sorry for dropping in without notice.”

he doesn’t know why you’re apologising. if he came home to this sight everyday he’d be over the moon.

hand cradling your cheek, he presses his nose against yours. “‘s more than okay,” he mutters before closing the gap in a gentle yet breathtaking kiss. his heart stutters back alive, pumping wildly when he feels you, so warmly, so comfortingly, so real, smile against him. 

“how was your high school reunion?” you ask, parting first. reo scrunches his face in distaste. partly at your question, mostly because he thought you pulled away too soon. 

he doesn’t want to think too hard about the bar he was at not too long ago, booked out specifically for said reunion to happen. doesn’t want to hink about the people crowding around him, asking about his career as an athlete and as the ceo of such a successful company. their praise leaves a sour mark in his heart. after two hours of the same questions, he had enough.

“left two hours in. should tell ya enough.”

“aww, sorry to hear that. hope you’ll feel better over dinner.”

“babe, i already feel amazing now that you’re here.”

you giggle at his shameless flattery before patting his shoulder, a subtle way of telling him to ‘knock it off’. “go get changed and relax. i need to cook the steak before it gets past how you like it.”

how he likes it.

reo is reluctant to go, making that known as he frowns whilst his hand squeezes your waist. you push him away with a gentle shove. “go.”

“okay,” he sighs.

after five or so minutes, reo emerges, dressed down into some comfortable pajamas. dinner is prepared now and you’d taken the time to prepare some juice as well- probably the one his dietician recommended for his athlete diet. he doesn’t like drinking it, you know that, and the only time he does is when you force him to (you promise to give him kisses in exchange and the drink is down in three seconds).

he stares at it in disdain. you, knowing him too well, reads his mind and began laughing, recalling all the inside jokes you have around this pesky little beverage. “c’mon, let’s eat,” you prompt and reo doesn’t even have to think twice before complying.

dinner is simple. it’s a really random assortment of dishes, you both have a bowl of udon, a plate of veggies to share, and there’s miso soup on the side. he appreciates the effort you put into getting all the nutrients he needs despite how demanding it can be. 

“thank you for the food.” 

reo digs in without hesitation, humming at the first taste of a warm meal after such a cold and unforgiving night. it warms him from the inside and suddenly, all misfortunes he’d experienced tonight become nothing but forgotten memories that’ll eventually be left to rot in the crevices of his mind, outshone by the sight of your smile and affectionate gaze.

“is it good?” you ask.

it’s amazing. incredible. the best food he’s ever had because of who it was made by. he doesn’t get to express that though so he just nods viciously, glancing over at your laughing form as he slurps his udon very ungraciously.

you don’t judge. you never judge.

“i’m glad, but please slow down.”

“sorry, i’m just really hungry,” reo confesses.

“i can see. you murmur, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. he keens at your touch, putting down his bowl to drag your chair closer, his thigh now pressed against yours. you chuckle a little at his actions, flustered by the small action.

this is love, reo thinks. you’re laughing together under the bright lights of his kitchen and this is the epitome of love.

he’s home. he’s welcomed. he’s safe. he’s him. he’s loved.

dinner goes by uneventfully, save for when you needed to feed the purple-haired the juice in order for him to drink it, causing you to mock his face of disgust and reo kissing you to shut you up. after a while of talking over empty plates of food, your legs have somehow ended up in his lap whilst he mindlessly draws on your thigh. a heart, his name with yours, and quick scribbles of ‘i love you’ over and over again. 

tonight was disruptful. his soul feels deconstructed, but with each passing second in your presence, he feels okay again. you strip him of his tiresome prestige and welcome him into the realm of normality, somewhere he has craved to be all his life. 

you kiss his scars and leave promises on them, loving all the beautiful and ugly parts of him, parts that he had never let anyone see before you.

the yawn that escapes you ends the conversation abruptly and you hum contemplatively, lulling your head back a little to emphasise your sudden wave of fatigue. 

“i should get going now, let’s wash u-”

“going where?” your boyfriend questions, grabbing your hand for the comfort of holding it and as a way of telling you that he doesn’t want you to leave.

“home?”

he tugs on your wrist. “don’t go. you’re not busy tomorrow, are you?”

“i’m not.”

“perfect. you should the night.” you should stay forever, he wants to say. one day he will; reo’ll muster the courage to ask you to move in.

in faux hesitation, you hum, raising a hand to his cheek as reo leans in to your touch. “you’ll miss me otherwise, huh? fine. i will.”

the smile he beams rivals that of a thousand suns. you wonder how you managed to be with someone as loving and adoring as reo who is willing to love you and all of your flaws. even after such a long time together, that look of awe never faded whenever he looked at you.

“i need to take a shower. care to join?” reo asks, smirking at you whilst standing up to his full height. despite the lilt in his tone, it’s devoid of any lust or ulterior motive, extending the invite to you for another chance to be close and intimate like lovers are- something he seemingly can’t get enough of.

you roll your eyes, playing off his suaveness. “you’re awful.”

“only for you.”

“i’m okay,” you reject his offer, trying not to give in to your temptations. 

reo is insatiable though. “c’mon, are you sure? would be such a lovely way to end the day though, can’t you grant me that?”

as selfless as reo may be, he loves taking in return. as a business man, it’d only make sense that he’d make use of return investments. “you’ll live.”

“please?”

“fine.”

the shower doesn’t take long. you two do your night routines beside each other, reo drying your hair for you whilst gently combing through it, brushing your teeth together, and finishing with skincare. he’s close to you the whole time, bumping his hip with yours gently as he litters kisses all over your face, causing you to swat him away sometimes with a bright laugh. 

it’s with a six-foot athlete clinging to your waist that you climb into bed, diving under the covers with little hesitation. reo takes the initiative of shifting himself to lie half-atop you, pressing into you with a relieved sigh as he feels your hands run up and down his back. 

he feels okay again, now healed and rejuvenated once more.

reo’s too soft. he lets people in when he really shouldn’t, gets to know people too quickly, too superficially, that he never sees to far into their person before moving on. he has left trials of faces in his mind with no true attachment to any of them, none that he would make the effort to hangout with. he has been an empty void his whole life, moulding himself into versions that other people want to see.

addendum. he had been an empty void his whole life. 

but now that you’re here, he has a constant to dive in. you scold him for changing too much of himself to become your perfect lover. he didn’t need to swap the roses he orders every week to freshen up his dining room to be that of your favourite colour, he didn’t need to swap the candles, shampoos, conditioners- anything else of the sort, to match your favourite scent. he didn’t need to always wear his hair up because you said you liked it that way.

no, because you love reo for reo, regardless of the ‘influences’ you had on him. you love him because he’s a great conversationalist, he’s organised, driven to a healthy degree, selfless, will always hype you up especially when insecurities become unforgiving, pulling you from the depths of your mind the same way you do with him. 

all you’ve ever wanted from him was sweet nothing. 

reo’ll run to you every time, no matter what. if it’s been a shitty day and he just needs to hide from the world or the best day of his life, he’ll always come to you to make it a little better.

the theory still proves true now as he nestles himself into your embrace, breathing you in with each inhale- letting his senses memorise all of you that he can, that you’ll allow.

“i love you,” is the last thing he murmurs before letting consciousness slip away, surrounded with nothing but bliss and love to pull him away. he’ll dream of you. he’s sure of it.

you and your sweet nothings that highlight every loveable trait of his.

(you'll kiss the 'bad' ones with the same amount of love too.)

#THIS IS TERRIBLE DO NOT PERCEIVE ME #i wrote with my heart and my soul not my mind #my heart and soul are overtaken by reo btw that's how it works #reo mikage x reader #reo x reader #mikage reo x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #reo mikage #mikage reo #reo fluff #reo x reader fluff #blue lock

[jeonqkooks]

a fluff drabble ; 37 & 50 w the supernova couple:(

ways to hold the sun | jjk

SUPERNOVA SERIES MASTERPOST

pairing: jungkook x f!reader prompts: "you wrote me a song?" + "this isn't adrenaline, i want to spend the rest of my life with you." rating: PG genre/warnings: established relationship, idol au; fluff, itty bitty angst (for the supernova peeps?! shocking :o); kissing, implied smut, jk rides a motorcycle, unedited bc yolo 🤷‍♀️ word count: 1.8k note: thank you so much anon for sending in this request!! i'm almost a year late to this but like i always say, better late than never right? lol. anyways, this request gave me the chance to wrap up their story with a neat little bow. i can't believe this is the last thing i'll write for supernova :( this series will always be one of my personal favorites and i'm so emo that i'm ending their story with this drabble. but, they'll always have a special, special place in my heart and i'll always love them <3

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

How do you hold the sun?

The answer is simple.

You hold him with two arms wrapped around his waist - tightly, because it feels like he holds your life in the palm of his hand. In more ways than one, he does.

You hated that motorcycle that he loved so much, calling it unsafe even though he isn't reckless at all. He may be a daredevil sometimes, and the most adventurous compared to his hyungs, but Jungkook would never neglect his safety. He returns home to you every day, that's always his number one priority.

He'd convinced you to let him take you out on his motorcycle today, to this spot he knows just outside of the city to watch the sunset together. You'd been against the idea at first, but it was a losing battle and you were all too aware of it. Once he'd whipped out a pout and big puppy dog eyes, you knew you'd cave.

Now, as you sit behind him, holding onto him like a koala as the bike moves smoothly along with the wind, you're glad that you'd agreed to let him do this. The city grows smaller, and it feels like all of your worries seem more and more insignificant - manageable, like something you could easily overcome - by the second, until the whole skyline can fit into one single frame.

It feels nice, hiding in plain sight. The ridiculously chunky helmets that sit securely on your heads shield you from any and all outsiders. You can squeeze him as tightly as you want even at the red lights, and he can hold your hand without the fear of being recognized. To anyone else, you're just two lovebirds and a license plate. Two people in love. It's the most normal thing in the world.

When you arrive at your destination and he takes off his helmet, the radiance of his grin almost knocks you off your axis. It's ever-bright, filled with so much happiness that could make you cry for some reason. You'll never understand how a person can be the entire universe, so wonderful and spectacular and magnificent, but he is. He always will be.

There's that one poem that you hold close to your heart. Sometimes, when you retrace the words in your mind, you think it must have been written for you and him. "We deserve a soft epilogue, my love," it reads. "We are good people and we've suffered enough."

You aren't sure if you're a good person, but as he kisses you with so much love that must rival any other love in all of history, you think you do deserve a soft epilogue.

Your mother often says that good things should be repeated three times.

You and him.

You and him.

You and him.

How do you hold the sun?

You hold him with your fingers intertwined with his, a soft smile on your face, and dozens of polaroids scattered across the floor.

"Just one more," Jungkook says, reaching for the purple Instax again.

"Stop!" you laugh, lightly pushing him away when he tries to point the lens in your direction. "You've said that twenty times in the last two hours."

This is a new hobby that he's taken up. Ever since Hoseok gifted him the damn camera, it's all that Jungkook has been doing. To say that he was obsessed would probably be an understatement. He snaps photos of everything and nothing, of his meals whenever you draw a heart on his plate with the mayonnaise, of the crescent moon outside the window at night, of himself as he makes silly faces at the camera.

But most of all, he takes photos of you.

He keeps so many of them in his wallet that the stack of polaroids dedicated to you is thicker than all of his cash, which is to say that there's a lot. He keeps one in the pocket of every coat, because he said every time he reaches inside for warmth and finds a piece of you there, it makes him smile and forget that he's even cold at all. You'd nearly melted when he told you that. It was so earnest and pure that it almost made you feel guilty for ever thinking there'd come a day where the adoration he had for you could fill anything less than the sky.

"Please?" Jungkook pouts, before pulling you closer and kissing your cheek sweetly. "I need just one more for my new coat."

At this point, it's not a matter of having enough polaroids for his coats anymore. It's a matter of having enough coats for his polaroids.

You roll your eyes with playful endearment, but you allow him regardless. It shoots pure serotonin through your veins when he grins. He lets go of your hands to hold the camera, immortalizing the grin that you mimic, a contented sigh leaving him as he takes the shot. He tells you he loves you afterward, like it's such a privilege to be able to have you at all.

No one ever warns you that when the sun holds you back, your heart will feel so full that it might just stop beating altogether.

How do you hold the sun?

You hold him with your face tucked safely in the crook of his neck, his arm around your body, rubbing odd patterns on your bare back.

You're both calming down from the hour-long session of twisting around in the sheets on a lazy Sunday morning, your only witness being the sunlight that creeps in through the slit between your curtains. Jungkook hums a tune that you're unfamiliar with, and the soft vibration of his chest almost lulls you to sleep again.

"What song is that?" you mumble, your eyes fluttering close.

"Your song."

"Hmm?" You don't quite register what his answer, you already have one foot in dreamland already. "My song?"

"Wrote it for you."

And suddenly, just like that, you're wide awake.

He presses an absentminded kiss against your hair, like this is all just common information.

"Huh?" You push yourself up to prop your upper body on one elbow, looking down at him with a slight frown. "You wrote a song for me?"

"Yeah," he chuckles at your reaction. His other hand that isn't touching your back comes up to brush your hair away from your face, tucking it delicately behind your ear. If you weren't too focused on a different issue, you would blush, even though this is something he's done a million times. "I wrote a song for you."

"Be serious."

"I am serious."

"How?" you ask, unbelieving. "When? Why?"

"What do you mean how? It's literally my job," he laughs, pulling you flush against his body again. "Why? Because I love you. When? I started writing it after we first met."

"Jungkook," you breathe, full of teary-eyed affection as you press a kiss to his jawline, his neck, the top of his shoulder, anywhere you can reach while he's embracing you this tightly.

You repeat his name three times, then three more, then three more, until you're a broken record and he has to shush you with a kiss, one that makes your knees buckle even though you're already lying in bed.

If the world wanted to take him away from you again, you really wouldn't be able to survive. So you hold him desperately, thinking that you never want to let him go. Praying that the world will let you keep him this time.

How do you hold the sun?

You hold him with all your might, even though you're blinded by how bright he shines. Even though he's the source of all life, and you're just a flickering light that can be snuffed out at any moment.

You're always the first person that he looks for. He runs to you at full speed, picks you up with his arms around your waist and spins you around despite your flushed cheeks indicating embarrassment as everyone - the staff and his members included - chuckles fondly at the sight. You can still hear the crowd out there chanting their names, still buzzing with postshow excitement. Jungkook is buzzing too, that much is clear.

You know he misses this - the stage, the fans, the bond he shares with all the people that adore him. It's in his eyes, the way they sparkle so brilliantly that could put stars to shame. If you were any good with words, you would write whole novels about the light in his eyes.

He presses you against the wall while everybody else carries on with their business. You suppose they're used to this from the two of you. The staff hurries to clear the set, moving equipment from backstage to the vans outside so they could finally wrap up an exhausting day. The boys shuffle wordlessly to their dressing rooms to wind down, to bask in the high that only the stage could bring them.

Jungkook peppers kisses all over your face, his nose bumping your skin as he moves from your forehead to your cheek, the bridge of your nose, to your jawline, to your chin, to your lips. You giggle quietly as you let him shower you with affection, the palpable love seeping through every kiss.

That is, until he says something that makes you stop breathing completely.

"Marry me."

You stare at him, dumbfounded, as you try to make your brain work again. His chocolate orbs stare back at you, and it feels like looking at the night sky on a cloudless night to find the entire galaxy twinkling, smiling down at you. It's unfathomable how you could be loved by someone like him.

"Marry me. Please, marry me." he says again, his fingers caressing your face like you're the most precious being he's ever seen. Before you can open your mouth to answer him, he continues, "This isn't adrenaline. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

You know you're nothing compared to him who lies in the center of the universe. You will never be able to shine as brightly as he does, not even a fraction.

You know you're nothing compared to him, and yet, he revolves around you regardless. To the rest of the world, you're insignificant. You're merely a soul among billions of others. If you were to disappear one day, you don't think a lot of people would care.

But to him, you're everything. You're the reason he exists, you're his favorite person in the whole wide world, you're the only one who will ever have his heart, you're his soft epilogue. He doesn't dim his light for you, and he should never have to. Instead, he lifts you up. He makes you shine too, even if it's only the two of you who see it. It's only you and him, but it's more than enough. It's the only thing that matters.

So, the question remains: How do you hold the sun?

The answer, in the end, is simple.

You hold him with love.

all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 25.06.23]

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagines #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bangtanbathhouse #bangtantheatrenet #btshoneyhive #clubzerooclock #52hertz #fic: supernova

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

Okay, okay, okay. I LOVE the concept of Salty!Matt you came up with, now I can’t stop thinking…what about Villainous!Nick? 😏 I bet he’s a mean, possessive, sarcastic jerk and I’m here for it!

I cannot believe you brought into the light a subject that was shared with you over the confidentiality of wine, bitch. But you know what? I’m not mad about it because it really is a nice concept, isn’t it 😏 *UNEDITED, because yolo - as the kids used to say - also I’m too old for these youngster slangs, ok. Forgive me*

Tag: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @letsgivethisonemoreshot , @aerynscrichton , @daddyhausen , @damnnhausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @baysexuality , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @sldghmmr , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @tahiri-veyla, @whenimakeitshine1234, @blaquekittycat

Nick’s crystal clear blue eyes followed his brother’s footsteps but his lips never left yours. He watched as his brother contorted from discomfort and he couldn’t help but smile knowing he was the cause of Matt’s uncomfortableness.

“What are you grinning about?” You asked after pulling back from the kiss. His eyes fixated on you and he smiled once again “Just happy to have you, that’s all”

“You’re too sweet” You landed one last peck on his lips before asking “More pie?” As you grabbed his plate from the coffee table.

“Yes, please” Nick’s hand was pressed against your lower back and he made no effort to retrieve it before you walked away. The silent reminder of who you belonged to didn’t go unnoticed by Matt, who just stared as his brother’s hand slipped from your lower back to brush against your ass as you walked towards the kitchen.

The subtle clenching of Matt’s jaw made Nick smirk to himself “This loser really thinks he stands a chance. Poor thing”, the wicked thought roamed Nick’s mind until the sly smirk turned into an evil grin.

“Hey, angel. Could you grab me another Diet Coke please?”

“Sure thing. Where is it?”

“Bottom drawer in the fridge” Nick answered before he stared at Matt with a smirk

The chocolate eyes intently watched as you bent down to reach for the bottom drawer of the fridge, the creamy orange pants served as a perfect canvas to your backside, the soft fabric cupped your round cheeks perfectly. Nick stood up from the couch and stopped beside his older brother, the sly grin never left his lips as he took a handful of his semi erection while his clear blue eyes also focused on your ass.

“Are you sure it’s here? I can’t find it” You called from the kitchen

“Yeah. It’s in the back part of the drawer, angel. Like, far in the back” Nick let out a soft hiss when you bent ever further down. His hand continued to play with his growing erection, the fingertips softly teased the tip with small pinches and he could feel all of his blood violently pumping through his body towards his groin.

“The true sight though is without the pants” Nick whispered to his brother “Like this is a fucking tease, but without it is the fucking paradise, even more if there’s no panties, when you can get glimpses of the plump lips between her thighs, begging for you to taste them. And when you pull back, you can’t decide if you want to fuck her ass or her pussy because both are begging to be filled. And fuck, she’s so tight” Nick grunted “It’s like some sort of black magic. Doesn’t matter how many times you fuck her, she’s always so fucking tight! Seems like the more you fuck her the tighter she becomes. And don’t even get me started on what that mouth can do. She could convince me to murder someone and hide their body if my payment is going to be a blowjob” He laughed before continuing “When I tell you she can take a dick like nobody else, fuck she’s so eager for it. And she takes everything so nicely, she takes every fucking inch while begging for more and you know I’m on the generous side so not every woman can handle it. But her? Oh fuck, she takes everything! In the ass, in the pussy, in the throat…there’s this cock slut that lives inside of her that never seems to get enough. She’ll do anything you ask, she fucks, she sucks, she rides, she loves being watched, loves to be shared, loves getting manhandled, spanked, gagged, choked, fingered, used, degraded…she’s fucking perfect”

“Oh, found it!” You called before standing up to open the can

Matt let out a low moan at his brother’s confessions before a warning snarl left his lips after Nick’s final statement: “And you know what the best part is, Matt? Is that I get to enjoy all of that! ME! Not you, big bro. ME! Don’t you ever forget that, Matty. Not even when you go upstairs to jerk off. She’s mine, not yours” Nick patted Matt’s shoulder “Now excuse me, because I need a kind of relief only MY wife can provide” With a final chuckle, Nick met you halfway through the living room. He took both the plate and the can out of your hands and placed them on top of the dining table, he whispered something that made you giggle before he intertwined your fingers and pulled you towards the garage.

#nick jackson fanfiction #nick jackson x reader #nick jackson imagine #nick jackson #young bucks #the young bucks #masochist writes

[sibyl-of-space]

GUESS WHAT!!!! I BOUGHT A MICROPHONE TODAY!!!

“Leo, why in the fuck did you buy an SM58 microphone if you are a cellist?”

Because no one else was doing it and because SM58′s are cool. Details below readmore.

(The SM58 is THE microphone for live stage performance, they are ubiquitous and they are magical microphones that can be run over by a truck and work fine, and they look like this:)

Now, as someone who took cello lessons for about 10 years and has somewhat of a classical background, and then spent the NEXT 10 years going “yolo swag 420 blaze it” and doing weird shit, I am now what I like to call a grunge cellist. I like the textures of bow scrapes on strings and shit. I don’t want to sound like a London Symphony sample library, I want to sound like a weirdo playing live and capturing a unique sound. I don’t want my recordings to sound like what an audience hears; I want it to sound like what *I* hear. I also like recording all sorts of weird shit as audio sources to manipulate/synthesize/etc etc etc.

As such, it was less important to me to buy a microphone that is Perfect for Beautiful Cello Covers That Sound Professional, and more important to buy a microphone that would be fun to work with.

Besides, I love recording other musicians and running my own recording sessions. What recording engineer would I be if I didn’t even own an SM58?!

So, I own an SM58 now. I was really curious how it would work for cello. Unsurprisingly I did not get a lot of results when I looked up “SM58 microphone cello” because, unsurprisingly, most cellists do not use an SM58 for their microphone. So I decided to be the change I want to see, and try it out.

This recording is a suuuuper close-mic setup (the microphone is like 5 inches away from the f-hole); dynamic mics respond to loud sounds, so it really had to be right up there. Thanks to the proximity effect, there is a huge discrepancy in loudness between the lows and highs, and there was a pretty uncomfortable buildup around 200hz that I had to take down with EQ. (I also rolled off the low end under ~50.) Other than that minor EQ adjustment, this sound is COMPLETELY unedited. It is the sound of a microphone sitting on a chair in front of me and pumped through my interface into a DAW while I dicked around with extremely rusty fingers that haven’t practiced in months.

SO! What do I think? I’LL TELL YOU WHAT I THINK!! THIS WAS AN AWESOME PURCHASE!!! I LOVE IT!!! This thing has so much more personality than my boring old condenser. I’m obsessed.

My ideal setup is actually going to be this mic right up close and a condenser a little farther back (probably with a HPF since I really don’t need to double the low stuff, this mic covers the low stuff quite well). Might have some phasing issues but I think the overall sound will be really nice with this as the main body but just a LIIITLE bit of room and detail brought back in from another mic. I’ll definitely post more tests once I have that setup figured out, too!

Final thoughts/Disclaimers:

* As I said, close micing like this on a cello gives you a pretty extreme buildup on the lows, for my cello there was a biggie at around 200Hz. You are going to want to EQ that shit. Also, if you don’t close mic, it sounds kind of pathetic. There’s no reason to use a SM58 if you aren’t going to close mic with it tbqh

* Many “professional” string recordings prefer a farther microphone that also captures reverberation from the room, which requires a nice-sounding room as well as an even frequency response, but can sound incredible. This is none of those things. But the benefit is you can’t hear the room AT ALL on this baby, it only captures what’s right in front of it.

* The mic is not very sensitive to high frequencies, this has the effect of somewhat LPF-ing the recording without you doing anything. I think its frequency response sounds kind of nice, honestly. But if you are capturing lots of high frequency details maaaaaaybe this is not the setup for you.

* Because it responds so, well, dynamically to loudness, you really do need to play at like mezzo-forte+ for it to do its stuff. If you are doing a lot of delicate piannissimos this is not the mic for you. Also, the low frequencies punch more than the highs, so you need to play it out more on the A/D strings to get them to speak as well as the G/C strings.

#my audio shit #shure sm58 #sm58 mic #cello recording #sm58 cello microphone #i am probably the only person in the world to have used that tag #hashtag trailblazing

[creepypasta-archive]

Crooked

by Alison x ali

A Quotev original, it's one of those "wrote the first chapter then forgot to do the rest" stories that leaves enough open doors to imagine how they could end in order to connect them in timelines. In particular this one is quite notable for the sharp turns our perspective character takes. If the introduction itself isn't enough to make you fall in love with this story, i believe you don't have a soul

CW// domestic abuse, incest, murder, bullying, self-harm mention

Click below to read the original unedited story

WARNING SEXUAL THEMES IN THIS NOVEL. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

The issue I kept having with people is when they call me: “Scene” Or “Sexy” Or "Hot". I do like compliments but those words do NOT define me. A "Gamer Girl" Is a slut who wears shitty clothes while trying to fuck most likely her brother's gaming controllers, a "Girl who Plays Games" Is someone who plays Call Of Duty non-stop for the whole weekend while swearing like a fucking sailor. I am not "Sexy" I am not "Hot" And I most definitely not "Scene." I don't have fucking peace signs tattooed on my body or pink and lilac strips in my hair, I am just "Carley." And in my opinion that's the best introduction you can give.

I slit my skin for good reasons you hear me? I am NOT some scene girl who goes: "Oh my god, I'm going to cut myself just because.... YOLO !"

I slipped on my sweater and short shorts, the sweater to hide the scars, I slid on my glasses and hunched my schoolbag over my shoulder, "Carley, breakfast is on the table." Mum smiled, I stared at the oatmeal she had made with berries, also the other plate of pancakes; covered in honey. "Oh... I'll just eat a granola bar." I said unwrapping one, "Carley, I do wish you'd eat more." Mum sighed, "Sorry... I'm not a bloody anorexic kid though, that's for sure." I chuckled, Mum let out a small happy sigh, "I know, it's just you NEED to gain a little weight hon, pretty soon a five year old could lift you up." Mum snorted politely, I gave her a simple: 'Pffft' and slid my Books into my bag, "I'll be off." I said, scoffing my granola bar down, "Alright. Love you Darling." Mum said, blowing me a kiss. "You too..." I murmured under my breath. "Time for school." I spoke to myself, I let out an irritated sigh and trotted to school.

Classes, Classes, Classes, Recess ! Classes, Classes, Classes, Lunch !

At Lunch I did the sensible thing and sat in the toilets, Where I'm wanted, I suddenly heard a deep female voice, "Hey Car-geek. Want another trip to swirly-ville?" She said, and a group of other deep voices laughing, "Nicole. You're lucky I'm not coming out to go to your gay town 'Swirly-Ville'." I said irritatedly, "G...Gay!?" She stuttered, "Yeah, You know... Like you and Amelia !" I said Amelia groaned, "I have a fucking boyfriend you twat." Amelia said trying to slam the stall door down, suddenly Miss Hopper walked in, "No Cigarettes in the bathroom. Move it girls." She said in a stern voice, they scurried off, frightened. She gently knocked on the stall door, hearing me weep I assume. "Carley? Is that you?" She asked, "Y....Yeah..." I sniffled. "Don't let them get to you, I'm surprised you haven't started being reckless like cutting or committing suicide." She said with a sigh of relief. I gulped, even though she couldn't see, I pulled down my sleeve to hide the scars, "Come on out, have lunch in the Teachers' Lounge." She said, I unlocked the door and walked with Miss Hopper. I just want to die, or play Halo 3, Either one is heaven for me. I spent the rest of lunch updating my blog, with surprisingly a few amount of followers. And watching netflix, please do not ask Why.

Then, Classes, Classes, Classes, Classes, Classes, Home Time !

I dropped my bag with the tip of my finger, Mum scurried in the kitchen wearing her uniform, "Alright honey, I need to go." She said pecking my cheek. I was afraid of the outcome tonight with Dad. He leaned on a frame of a door, with a sly smirk on his face, he strolled over to me, holding me around my waist, "Mum installed Security Cameras, Be careful what you do." I said, he let go, "You told your mother?" He asked, "Yes, she doesn't believe me but I insisted she install the cameras." I said, "Oh bother, What do I care?" He said sniffling at my neck, "You'll get divorced and sent to Prison." I said, "You're no fun Honey, Let's do something.... Exciting, if you lose, You get punished." He said, "Alright. If I win you get punished." I croaked, "Alright, Your game." Dad said. Suddenly a huge grin appeared on my face, "Twister." I said. He gaped at me, quickly grabbing a pair of scissors, "H...Hey!" I said, he opened the 'Twister' container and cut the mat to shreds, "Uh Oh!" He puffed, "New Game!" He smiled, I backwards walked to the kitchen sink, moving my hand around in there, 'Fuck. Fuck! Where's the knife?'The thoughts quickly passed my mind when my Dad spoke the words: "Do You want this?" While waving a knife around, I groaned running towards him, He slashed at my face, picking me up. "L....Let me go Dad !" I screamed, "Master. It's Master Carley." He corrected, "No! Let me Go ! I'll bite you !" I threatened, "Oh I'm so Scared." He said, mocking my voice.^pHe slammed me on the bed, quickly one thought came into my mind, '.....Fuck My Life.' Suddenly someone broke through the window as my father undid his belt. I gasped, He slit my father's throat, I gasped in horror, watching all the blood pour out, "...." I was in shock. Who is he? Why did he save me?

He knelt down on the bed, I squealed, His eyes circled around me, the paleness of his skin... The shagginess of his hair, he lifted a finger, gently caressing the bottom of my chin, "There will always be then and now, There will never be Forever." He said, My mouth went dry. . . "How can You think that way?" I croaked, pulling my sleeve down. He forced his hand to my neck and pulled up the sleeve, seeing all the scars from me cutting myself, He gave a freakishly big smile.

"I'm Jeff." He whispered into my ear, I felt his tender lips touch my ear, "C...Carley." I said biting my lip, I suddenly heard police sirens and Mum's clacking high heels, Jeff ran back out the window, Leaping like a frog. My face was flushed red. Mum ran in with the police, she just stared at me....

That blank face....

#jeff the killer #creepypasta #fanfiction #horror #jtk #story #romance

[kpostedsum]

why not me? ; F.W

fred weasley x reader, fred x angelina

summary: you see the way fred looks at angelina

song: washing machine heart - mitski

a/n: a quick thing i wrote at 2am, not angelina slander!! also unedited nd not proofread bc yolo, y/n pov i fink..

masterlist | taglist

Toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart

Baby, bang it up inside

you weren’t stupid, you saw the way your boyfriend stared at her you couldn’t blame him though, she was everything. The way her dark skin glowed in the sunlight, how she’d often have a new hairstyle every few weeks; whether it was braids, locs, or even her natural hair, she was effortless pretty.

I'm not wearing my usual lipstick

I thought maybe we would kiss tonight

the gryffindors had won their quidditch game today against the ravenclaws so of course, you had to be there to celebrate your boyfriends win. you decided to dress up a bit more today in hopes of catching fred’s attention.

putting on a nice dress and doing your makeup a bit differently you’re sure you’ll catch fred’s attention tonight.

“there she is!” you heard george yell over the music from the other side of the common room, you quickly saunter over to him and embrace him in a hug.

“hi george, congrats on the win tonight” you smile. “do you happen to know where fred is, i haven’t seen him yet?” you say while scanning the common room looking for the other red headed twin who you adore so much.

“your best chance to find him is with angelina, wherever she is he is” he gives you a sad smile and walks away.

it was stupid if you to think you could dress up and all of a sudden fred would pay attention to you, it’s been going on for a while. Whether it was him staying extra late at quidditch practice to go over stuff with angelina, studying divination with her or just hanging out.

wherever she was his eyes were on her, he used to look at you like that.

but not anymore.

Baby will you kiss me already and

Toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart

Baby, bang it up inside

there he was in the corner of the room w angelina, both sharing a laugh and a drink.

what does she have that you don’t?

they’re both so close to eachother enjoying their time, you and fred used to look like that as well. not wanting to disrupt their time you decide it’s best to leave the party completely and go to your dorm, silent years already forming in your eyes.

settling in your dorm you sit at you vanity removing all of tonight’s makeup one by one, removing each eyelash and wiping off the rest of your face makeup with tears in your eyes.

you don’t want to let fred go, but if he was happy with her you should be happy for him. right?

breaking your thoughts you quickly get into bed wanting to forget about everything you’re feeling. it’s like you’re numb, watching the person you love fall for someone else.

even with your heart broken in several pieces, you somehow still manage to love him.

Baby, though I've closed my eyes

I know who you pretend I am

I know who you pretend I am

drifting off into a state between consciousness and unconsciousness, you’re still able to make out when fred slips into your dorm.

he looks so happy, and you know it’s all because of her. he didn’t even spare you a glance for one second at the party today, and that confirmed everything you need to know.

fred quickly slipped behind you joining you in bed and pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead with a faint “i’m sorry love”.

why is it when the story ends we begin to feel all of it?

that was the end of yours and fred’s story, you had lost to angelina johnson.

a part of you wished you could hate her, but you can’t— she’s everything you weren’t, and everything you wanted to be.

Why not me?

part two

🏷 some moots nd others😋: @henqtic @hellohellook @sfdlm @lcvemalfcy @drachoesimp @slutfordracoluciousmalfoy @ripthatmentalhealth @littlemissnoname13 @helleli @gwlvr

#draco malfoy x reader #fred x hermione #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fluff #george weasley #george weasley x reader #harry potter #ron weasley x reader #fred weasley smut

[ukiyoexo]

HAUNT ME, BABY! — PJS

PAIRINGS — nct, park jisung x reader

GENRES — ghost!jisung, quarantine!au, humour, lots of fluff (+grumpy!cute!jisung), angst (?)

SYNOPSIS — when you see a ghost, you’re supposed to be scared right? yeah, that’s what jisung thought too until he met you.

a night spent in boredom leads you to lighting random candles and attempting to summon a ghost. you never expected it to work — or for the spirit to be so cute.

WARNINGS — ghost summoning, mentions of blood, swearing, pricking your skin for blood, mentions of how jisung died, unedited

WORD COUNT — 5.2k+

TAG LIST — @uwu-yifan @peachjaem00 @heartyyjeno @guccichan

NOTE — i basically took the bloody mary ritual and made some shit up so enjoy :) this is also the fluffiest of all the fics from deviltales so yeah... this is also shorter than i intended but oh well.

DEVILTALES — MASTERLIST

quarantining alone had its perks. like being able to eat whatever you liked whenever, and never having to actually get dressed. as well as the fact that you could spend the day doing what you pleased, without anyone getting in your way.

and maybe that’s why you were going through with the slightly crazy and slightly stupid idea you had come up with whilst spending your fourth hour scrolling on tiktok. there was no one here to stop you from summoning a ghost and you wouldn’t be getting in anyone’s way. plus, you couldn’t help but think it would be nice to have someone other than your cat to talk to — even if that someone was some demon that probably wanted to possess your body.

“red and white candles, check. mirror, yep.” you mumble off the checklist to summon your very own supernatural being. your finger scrolling over the wiki how page on your phone screen one last time before powering it off and chucking it onto your bed.

next stop was the bathroom connected to your bedroom, where you had already lit the two candles, placing them at either corner of the sink. you had already turned off the lights and plugged the sink like instructed, all you had to do now was repeat the chant and prick your finger.

you clear your throat, debating what you would do if your attempts actually worked but deciding to instead remain unbothered. “yolo i guess.” you mutter, only to laugh at yourself when you wonder how many people’s last words were that.

you repeat the chant confidently, despite the fact that it was some random latin that you didn’t understand and most definitely mispronounced. after rerunning it through your head to make sure you had it, you pick up the pin you had placed next to the sink. the cool metal almost numbs the feeling of it piercing your index finger, yet still not enough to completely distract from the unpleasant pinch. a steady drip begins even before you remove the needle, landing against the white ceramic sink bowl and trailing it way down to the plug. one drop, two drops, three drops, you keep count until you hit 16 and a small pool of the metallic liquid has formed at the drain.

nothing happens for a while, and you wonder if it really was just make belief. and then when the red candle blows out, you try to convince yourself that it’s just a draft. you know, because a draft in a closed room with no open windows is so common.

you’re not scared per se, but the feeling of someone’s hot breath against the neck is slightly unsettling, the hairs on your back standing up just that bit straighter with every exhale. you know the next step is to look up and face the mirror, but a part wants to just turn on the lights and pretend nothing ever happened.

then again, you were never one to back down from something once you had begun it.

“fuck it.” you take a deep inhale, holding your breath as you direct your eyes from the bloodied sink towards the mirror.

there it is. the dark outline of a body— a person, you can’t see it’s face at first and wonder if it’s just your shadow. but then the features slowly become more clear, a wicked smile, one white eye, there’s blood dripping from the crown of his head, trailing down to his other, reddened eye, where a thick cut is sliced through. “boo.”

“jesus fucking christ.” you’re pretty sure your soul leaves your body at that very moment. definitely a ghost- definitely a ghost- definitely a ghost. but what fucking ghost says boo?

one hand is clutched to your chest, heart hammering against your ribcage, the other fumbling for the light switch. your widened eyes still trained on the mirror.

“you��� you’re like actually a ghost?” you question, the light switch seemingly impossible to find despite your frantic attempts. the boy behind you seems caught off guard by the enquiry. “i mean—” he begins in the most unghostlike manner “yeah, i guess. i prefer haunted spirit of the underworld though.”

you finally hit the switch and the boy comes into full view, your body turning so you can get a better look at him. he’s— he’s surprisingly unthreatening.

sure, he has copious amounts of blood dripping from his being, and yeah, he looks like he could possess you with the snap of his fingers. but, he also has the roundest rosy cheeks, and the most adorably button nose. plus, he talks like most of your friends do — not the spooky victorian vibe you were picturing. “huh.” you lean back against the sink basin, arms folded across your chest, eyes narrowed. “hmph, you’re kind of cute.”

the ‘haunted spirit of the underworld’ looks a mixture of offended and confused at your statement, eyebrows furrowing with a exaggerated pout on his lips. “what?” he mirrors the action of your arms, “you’re not supposed to find me cute— you’re not supposed to.” he stomps his foot and you can’t help but lose it, giggling erupting from your chest.

“not my fault, dude.” you inform him casually once you’ve caught back your breath. sliding past him to get to the bathroom door and promptly opening it. he follows as you enter your bedroom, standing above you with the same expression as before as he watches you slump onto your bed.

“but no one ever finds me cute.” he just looks more confused now. “guess im the exception,” you shrug, “i mean how many people have summoned you anyways?”

“a lot, ok? and that’s not the point. you’re killing the atmosphere by being so chilled out and i’m not here for it.” the boy continues but you’re more focused on examining him. under the thick red liquid is a dishevelled, ink black mop of hair, a slightly tattered black shirt that is loose fitting to his figure and then a pair of ripped black jeans, although you can’t tell whether the rips are intentional or a result of his untimely death. “hello? are you even listening to me.” your eyes flick back up to his face, “yeah, yeah i’m listening— something about atmosphere or some shit.”

he lets out a huff and indicates for you to shuffle over, moving to sit on your bed, “whoa, pause, that blood won’t get on my sheets right? i just washed them.” he pauses in his tracks, looking at the white linen and then back at you. “i’m a ghost.” he states obviously. “good point.”

silence seems to settle in the room once he gets himself comfortable, his eyes examine your room whilst your eyes examine him. the pout on his face had vanished, only to be replaced by this almost saddened look. for some reason, you can’t help but feel like it’s your fault.

“you can try again.” you mutter awkwardly, offering up the best comforting smile you could. “try what?” “you can try scaring me again. we’ll go back to the bathroom, i’ll turn off the lights and you can jump out again.” his head tilts as you explain your suggestion and you swear you can see the apples of his cheeks redden just slightly. “i— i mean it won’t work will it? you already know i’m here.” he reasons back.

“ah, my dearest haunted spirits of the underworld, you clearly haven’t witnessed my superior acting skills before, lemme show you how to be scared.” you stand up confidently, sliding backwards to the bathroom, wiggling your eyebrows as you do so.

he once again follows, watching inquisitively as you relight the candles and turn off the lights, closing the bathroom door behind you, once you’re both fully in. “now, do your thing.” you offer him a quick smile and he nods hesitantly, settling himself in the darkest corner of the bathroom where you can’t even see him. “haunt me, baby!”

as you let out your last, more joking, words, the red candle is blown out once again, the white candle merely flickering and provided little to no light. your breath catches in your throat and any humour you have left to offer seems to dissipate out of your body.

there’s a tapping against the tiles to your right. then a scraping behind you. you can hear an unintelligible whispering echo throughout the small space but can’t make out what’s being said.

a cold draft hits the back of your neck, following the shiver that runs done your spine and leaves goosebumps on your arms.

your eyes are locked on the mirror in front of you. you don’t even have to act scared, you just are. your heart pounding harder and quicker in your chest with each passing second, your breaths unsteady and shallow.

one tap on your shoulder, then two, then what feels like someone tugging on strands of your hair. your body tenses at the touch, limbs stiffening.

and then, in the glow of the weak candle light, a face appears, a familiar face but one that given the circumstances, looks all the more terrifying. your eyes widen just as before, your features hardened in the tense moment.

“boo.” he repeats the same ‘scary’ word as before but in a low whisper. you try your best to remain calm but it’s at that moment that you lose it, your eyes squeezing shit and your hands flying to hit the lights. “nope, nope, nope.” you repeat in a chant, jumping on the spot as if that would make things any better.

“what? was i good?” the ghost sounds surprised, chirpy, and it’s enough to convince you that you can look up again. “were you good?” you respond bewildered, staring at the boy, “you were to fucking, i hated that.” you inform him, pacing to wards your bed. he trails behind, cheering to himself proudly.

“promise to never scare me like that again?” you hold out your pinky once he’s sat back next to you.

he pauses slightly but then nods, extending his pinky as well, hooking it around yours. “promise.”

♡ ♡ ♡

“wait, you never told me your name? and how old are you?” you and ghost boy are lying on your bed, having established that he’ll be ‘haunting’ you until dawn, leaving you with six hours to kill.

“jisung, eighteen.” he hums back, “you?”

“i’m y/n and the same age.” you roll onto your stomach and closer to jisung, giving him a wide, cheesy grin. his eyes narrow, as if to say what are you doing, but then widen when he feels your arm shove him off the bed. of course, it doesn’t work because he’s a ghost and can hover, but you still receive the same amount of entertainment.

“why can i touch you?” you continue your questioning after jisung settles on the chair next to your desk, “and why can you sit on things?”

he huffs out a breath but doesn’t really seemed bothered by the pestering, in fact he rather enjoys having someone to talk to. “you can touch me because you summoned me, and i can sit on things because i control what i go in and out of.” he explains as simply as possible, holding his hand out against your desk. “look, like this.” he rests his hand ontop of the surface as if it’s nothing. then he lifts it back up and lowers it again, however this time, it goes straight through the wood. “whoa.” you gasp, genuinely impressed. “cool, right—”

“can you go through me?” you burst brightly, and jisung looks mildly concerned. “i mean— i’ve never tried but—” “try it on me! try it on me! try it on me, please!” you extend the last your vowels desperately, grasping your hands hands together in a begging motion.

jisung rolls his eyes but agrees nonetheless, rising from seat and walking towards you with his hand extended. “ok, hold out your hand.” he instructs and you comply eagerly. your hand pointed outwards with your fingers spread slightly.

jisung rests his palm against yours, his skin is cold but soft. but then the feeling seems to vanish, and you watch wild eyed as jisung closes his fist, inside your hand. “what does it feel like?” he asks.

“like nothing.” you tilt your head, it wasn’t as exciting as you thought it’d be.

jisung then pulls out of your hand again, places his palm back against yours and threading his fingers with yours, materialising his flesh again. “aw, you’re holding my hand.” you tease sweetly, “cute.”

jisung scoffs, quickly pulling away at the mention of that horrid c-word.

“anyways then, what do you want to do?” you flop back onto your bed, staring at the ceiling. jisung lifts off the ground, hovering above you and looking down to make eye contact. “what do you mean?”

“well, is there anything you didn’t get to do whilst you were alive that you wish you could? are there things you want to experience again?”

jisung smiles, it’s a sweet question. bittersweet though.

he had never really thought about the things he had missed out on, and he’d tried his hardest to not think about the things he actually missed. but something about you asking it, so innocently, so pure hearted and warm, makes him smile. makes him less sad about his untimely death.

“i don’t know.” the ghost drops beside you, fiddling with his fingers. “well let’s make a list then.” you match his smile and jisung swears this is the most he’s felt since becoming a ghost.

♡ ♡ ♡

half an hour passes before you finally have a list you can actually accomplish within the confines of your apartment.

first on the list is learning how to skateboard, your board that had been propped up in the corner of your room since the start of quarantine coming in extremely useful. “ok, put one foot on the deck,” you instruct calmly, hands already being grasped by jisung’s. the icy feeling if then still something you couldn’t entirely get over. “then the other.” he does as he’s told. stepping on carefully but surprisingly soon, he was a ghost though — nothing to lose.

it goes pretty smoothly, your body guiding his around the hard wood floor of your bedroom. there’s a few wobbles but nothing too severe. “fun?” you grin and he nods eagerly back, it was almost like having a puppy.

“now you try on your own.”

he stops smiling at that.

“but what if i fall off?”

“you’re a ghost.”

“oh yeah.”

jisung adjusts the board so that it’s facing down the longest stretch. he confidently settles himself on the deck. with one, slightly too strong of a push, he’s off across your room. he picks up speed quickly as he goes and it’s only near the end of his path when he realised that he’s fucked up.

whilst he jumps off, the board keeps flying, only stopping when it hits the wall — or rather goes through it.

you both stand, frozen in you positions, staring at where your plaster wall had been broken through. “you just put a hole in my wall.”

“that, i did.”

“ok enough skateboarding for you.”

you move on swiftly after that, finding out that jisung can still eat and deciding to order a selection of his favourite dishes: sushi, pizza and even pork belly.

whilst you wait for food, you decide to move onto the next on the list: alcohol.

“so you’re telling me you never drank alcohol, like any at all, before you dies?” jisung nods to your astounded question. “seriously?” you scoff, genuinely shocked. “the most i’ve had is a sip of mum’s wine and it was nasty so i just steered clear of alcohol as a whole.” he informs you and you’re pretty sure your jaw is touching the ground. “what about drinking games?” he shakes his head again. “that’s wild dude.” it seems like the only motion jisung can do is moving his head as nods awkwardly for what feels like the hundredth time.

you don’t pay much mind as you head to your kitchen, choosing a selection of alcohols and mixers and several glasses before making your way back to the bedroom with full arms. 

you settle yourself on the floor of your room, pouring out the various liquids into different glasses. “you don’t have to drink if you don’t want, you know that right?” you asks, swirling a glass of lemonade and lemon vodka in your, wanting to make sure that you weren’t forcing the ghost boy to do something he didn’t want to. “yeah, i know, but i do want to.” “ok, good.”you grin, hoding out the glass in your hand towards him.

he winces at just the smell which makes you giggle, the way his nose srunches being incredibly cute. he takes swig anyways however. its a quick one but you can tell by the range of emotions that spread across the boys face that he definitely got a taste. “good?” “i guess.” he twists his lips and you laugh even more.

“up next is gin.” you inform him, swirling another glass of alcohol and this time tonic.

you hand him the glass and he readily takes it, offering you a concerned look after taking his routine sniff as if to say ‘you really drink this?’. you smile encouragingly, despite thinking the drink you had just handed him was the worst of the lot. 

unfortunately for jisung, he takes you expression as a form of reassurance that the gin will be better than the last and takes a more confident sip than the prior drink. however, just as quickly as he’s sipping it, he’s spitting it back into the glass, this disgusted look on his face as he tries to hold back a gag. you let out a boisterous belly laugh at his reaction, much to jisung’s distaste.

“you like that?” he questions between gulps of water, watching you intently. his eyebrows arching wildly when you respond with a “rarely.” 

“so, wanna taste the next one?” you grin again, but jisung as trusting as before. “not really.” he pouts but you circle the drink around his face and he can’t really say no, he had never really had any self restraint anyways. “fuck it.” he hums before downing the mix of malibu and coke, a pleased look flashing across his face. “you like?” you nudge him into a response, “i do.” he smiles back, surprisingly happy. 

you appreciate his good taste in alcoholic drinks but decide to do only one more round before wrapping the session up. 

the last differs from the rest. the fact that it was dairy based and thicker eing the most obvious differences, as well as the fact that you put no mixer with it. “what’s this?” he holds the brown liquid up to the light as if that would help him decifer what he was about to sip on. “chocolate baileys.” you smile at him fondly, and he tilts his head at you. “don’t worry, you’ll love it.” you offer him some more genuine reassurance this time and his nods timidly, “bottoms up.” he raise his glass to his lips, taking a small swig. “wow.” he has another taste. “good?” “really good.”

food arrives shortly after and you waste no time stuffing yourself with the selection of delicious foods, making that jisung has plenty and enjoys the meal to its full.

♡ ♡ ♡

next on the agenda was catching up with all the music jisung had missed. and god, there was plenty.

you created a playlist of your favourites, a collection of ones he may know, and other new ones, setting it to full volume on your speaker — your neighbours could deal with the noise for a while.

when you begin to twirl around the room, busting out your favourite moves, jisung doesn’t seem too fond of joining in. unfortunately, no one told him how hard it would be to say no to you. the way you grip his hands and spin him on the spot with encouraging cheers make him laugh too much for him to then say no.

“there you go!” you grin ecstatically, watching jisung throw out some peculier but workable dance moves. your questionable singing matched with his much better singing when a song he knew came on.

your dance party goes on for what feels like half an hour but is really half an hour at most.

you spend half the time belly laughing while battling it out on who could dance better and although jisung won, it’s one of the best half an hours of your life. it almost makes you sad that, despite your exhaustion, you can’t continue with the dance party for longer.

you cross it off the list happily, looking for the next doable thing — watch avengers: endgame.

you were never much of an avengers fan but it turns out jisung was a huge one. and one thing he didn’t get to do before he passed was watch the last to the film, something he had been dying to do.

thankfully for him, you had already bought it after one extremely boring day in quarantine, figuring it would help you easily pass three hours of your time. only now, you were hating the length as it just meant less time to spend with jisung.

jisung actually having to agree to play truth or dare with you whilst watching otherwise you refused to turn it on.

it gets only fifteen minutes into the film and your prodding at the ghost’s arm. “psst,” you over exaggerate, “truth or dare?” you grin taking a scoop from the ice cream you had retrieved earlier.

jisung flickers his gaze between the screen and your pleading, hating how cute he finds you. “dare.” he whispers back.

if he hadn’t been so focused on the film, jisung would have seen the almost maniac like smile that spread across your lips. he then, would have been less shocked and disgusted when you dared him to drink a shot of soy sauce.

“you want me to do what?” the boy splutters, looking at you with mild concern. “what happens if i don’t?” one eyebrows quirks upwards. “then i choose a different date, as well as a truth.”

the manic smile returns.

“ok, fine.” you’re almost more shocked that he agrees to the questionable, sodium packed drink. “really?” you gasp. “yep, really.” he only confirms back.

you return to the bedroom a couple moments later with a glass bottle of dark brown liquid in one hand and a pair of shot glasses in the other. “you doing it with me?” jisung wonders once he sees the two small vessels, normally for alcohol.

“might as well.” you nod, questioning your own sanity as soon as you agree, “you only live once right?”

the joke is probably inappropriate given the circumstances, yet jisung chuckles nonetheless.

the humour dies down shortly after when the sodium liquid meets your tongue. your attempt short lived as you wait a whole five seconds to spit the shot back out. grabbing one of the glassses of water you had prepared and swirling it around your mouth.

jisung seems to struggle less than you, the alcohol most likely acting as a good warm up to him. however, you can tell by the expression his face twists into that he still definitely doesn’t enjoy it.

you fire more dares back and fourth after that, resulting in you snacking on a whole lemon and jisung ending up in an outfit of your choice — turns out ghosts can change clothes. and it continues until jisung finally chooses truth.

“so,” you clear your throat awkwardly, “well,” you continue to stall, twiddling with your thumbs. you open your mouth to speak again but jisung cuts you off, “you can ask me anything, like anything at all.” jisung nudges you encouragingly.

you sigh, looking at him with a pout, “ok then,” you don’t sound very enthusiastic but it’s more that you just feel bad, you couldn’t imagine that many people would enjoy reliving their last moments — assuming that’s what he was referencing, “my truth for you mr jisung is, how did you die?”

a silence settles between you and you’re too scared to even look up from where you were playing with the hem of your shirt.

“i— why would you ask me that?”

his words cut through the tension sharply. his tone serious.

“i— you- but you just said—” you’re beginning to panic, wondering if you had just hallucinated th last five minutes, but for all you knew, you could’ve been hallucinating all of this experience. “i’m sorry—”

“i’m fucking with you y/n, it’s fine, i was surprised you didn’t ask me earlier in fact.” jisung is evilly giggling just a bit too much for your liking, enough for you to attempt to wack his stomach. of course that fails though as he lets your arm just fly straight through him. “i hate you.”

“you don’t really,” he teases, reaching over to squish your cheeks as you glare at him. “it wasn’t interesting anyways, i was just hit by a car, boring really.”

“was it on purpose?” you pull the ice cream spoon between your lips.

“huh,” he takes another scoop himself, “i never thought about that.”

“well, did it hurt?”

“kind of,” he hums, looking like he’s genuinely trying to remember, “this bit hurt.” he motions towards his eye and for a second you almost forgot having a thick red gash across your eye wasn’t normal.

“hmph,” you lean towards him inspecting the cut, “that’s wild.”

“well, how do you wanna die?”

the way jisung asks so genuinely has a bubble of giggles brewing in your stomach, but you expression hardens when you realise he’s being serious. “i don’t know, i’ve never thought about it before. i die when i die, you know? i can’t stop it, so i might as well just enjoy what i have now and accept whatever death comes to me in the future, momento mori or some shit.”

you answer nonchalantly and jisung’s surprised by how calm you are about death.

he remembers the first time he experienced death. his grandpa passed away when he was eight and although he didn’t fully understand the concept of dying, he understood enough to be sad. and when his grandma passed away at ten, he was finally able to grasp the concept of it.

if he was being honest, death terrified him.

it was uncertain. and jisung didn’t like uncertainty. the unknown darkness that was death scared him and he even at eighteen, he hadn’t fully accepted it.

but hey, he was a ghost now, not much he could do to change his death anymore.

♡ ♡ ♡

the film ends sooner than you had expected and there’s not long left before jisung will leave. it’s weird, you didn’t think you could get so attached to someone so quickly, but then you summoned jisung and you both just clicked.

you had both decided that for the last moments you’d sit out on the balcony of your apartment, let jisung jisung feel the warmth of the sun as it filtered through the clouds.

“i think you’re my favourite ghost.”

“you’ve met other ghosts?” jisung quirks up his eyebrows, tilting his head towards you.

“nope, but i imagine you’re the best.” you continue confidently, watching as pastel blues and pinks fade into the sky.

he smiles at that.

he thinks you’re the best human he’s ever met, too.

you attempt to pass you the time by talking about life before death and your life after he goes but all conversation simmers down into a silence. it’s not uncomfortable, more just this solemn quiet. jisung didn’t want to leave, but he didn’t really have a choice — being a ghost really sucked sometimes, that was for sure.

“you know, there’s something else i kinda want to do before i go.” jisung hums, drawing your attention to his face. “what?” you question innocently which in itself makes the ghost smile. 

“well,” he begins, suddenly nervous and blushing under your gaze, “when i was alive,” you nod, encouraging him to continue, “i never got to have a proper first kiss.” he quietens at the end slightly but what he’s saying is still clear as day.

“oh.”

you watch him shift in his seat, waving his hand in and out of the arm rest anxiously. “mr haunted spirit of the underworld, are you asking if you can kiss me?” you can’t help but tease the red cheeked boy, swirling your finger on your lap.

“i mean— you don’t—”

“i’d love for you to, jisung.”

your grin is suddenly matched on the boy’s face, a genuine smile that makes your heart pump even faster and this bittersweet feeling to settle in your stomach.

you stand up from your seat and he does the same, intertwining his fingers with yours and shuffling closer towards you. his gaze lingers on your lips for a moment before shifting towards your eyes. the way your irises glow in the morning sunlight something he wishes he could witness everyday. the way your cheek feels against the delicate touch of his fingertips, something he wishes he could experience everyday. “thank you.”

“for what?”

“for making me feel alive for the first time in all my eighteen years, dead and alive.” he confesses barely above a whisper, your hand shifting to cup the back of his neck.

he tilts forward, resting his forehead against yours, letting out a soft breath before closing gap completely.

his lips are plush, a soft velvet against yours. this heavenly feeling that makes you wonder whether he’s more of an angel than a ghost. the feeling has jolts of electricity sparking through every nerve of your body and you wonder if he feels it too. you do your best to savour each second of the kiss, letting yourself indulge in the moment.

hoping to imprint it in your memory for ever.

when you pull back, you’re met with nothing but the rays of sun indicating that dawn had come and jisung had gone.

you’re not sure what comes over you but there’s a gentle trickle of tears that escape your eyes. you were happy to have gotten to know him while you could, but it hurt knowing that you couldn’t do more.

you settle back in your chair after the realisation comes to you, dwelling over the questions you didn’t ask him. the most important being whether he’ll ever be able to come back.

you hoped he would.

and if not, you found comfort at least in knowing that he had still left his mark. from the hole now in your wall to the many memories you had to look back on.

even though you had never been one to believe in soulmates, you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering if that’s what you and jisung were. even if you roamed in different worlds, you couldn’t help but think you were made for each other. only hoping that in your next life you would finally get to be together.

#neothestars #jisung fluff #jisung angst #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #jisung #nct dream #nct #park jisung #park jisung fluff #deviltales #nct dream smut #nct fluff #nct angst #nct smut #jisung smut #jisung oneshots #jisung fic #mark #jaemin #jeno #renjun #haechan #chenle

[ashenburst]

Posting some angst that I wrote. I'm not sure if it will end up in the final version of my book as this is a side character's POV. My best friend wants to skin me alive because of what I'm doing to my characters, ESPECIALLY Athanasius (the star of this chapter/oneshot), so, if you'd like some sort of Nietzschean, Dostoyevsky-ish sort of energy combined with a wounded man whose life has been nothing but exploitation... take this!

tw: gore, bugs being yuck, religious themes/trauma, heavy depression

word count: 1692, unedited because #yolo

Athanasius tugged at the hem of his shirt. The blood, well crusted, defied his movements. Elbowing it like mad, he barely managed to take it off and throw it by his side, where it lay together with the top of his uniform, discarded by the roots of an old oak. All of the clothes, drenched in a deep red. One swift yearning blew his mind, that of murder, of all of Agglomeration’s uniforms coated in metallic death. But no hatred, no hope could go that length. Nothing his soul could sustain. Not anymore.

Birds and waters and insects all sang, ignorant. Remaining in his stained breeches, he staggered close to the river and its white shore, agony greeting every movement. Flies tickled their way into half-open wounds, the stinging slits crossing his body. Sweat and blood curled his chest’s hairs with some black bugs dangling. So many flew around. Everyone had use of him.

He’d contemplated leaving himself in the state of bloodbath, and run for help in any community, feigning amnesia. The sheer horror of his appearance could not be trapped; whispers of it would run amok only to be seized by the worst of ears, those deaf to him.

Rocks of the riverbank wriggled beneath his boots. He dropped on his knees, pain shrieking once they dislocated. He held his head high. Cold hands contrasted on sun-heated stones. The Sun burnt through his quivering eyelids.

He could run. Would they find him? They would love to. He would kill to quench that love. He already had. Disappointed he was to see it insatiable.

But he could run. Where to? Aurun’s bank had his funds, but entering the city meant sure doom. The rest of the world was his destination. At least, parts of it without the Agglomeration.

And he could run. Scramble to some dreary town, then harbor. Stowaway his life until Onogea. He absolutely could. He had knowledge, he had strength, he had power.

His fingers dug into the rocks. The stone cracked under his weakness. One deep sigh to commemorate it all over again, and he choked on himself. He coughed up deep red mucus, spraying blood and its clots over round, white rocks. His hand rose, fingertips shaking like a naked twig on the wind. He coughed again, and blood squirted over his already dirty palm. So much filth. He’d long grown accustomed.

Then why was there hope? That inside and outside, all of that grunge could be cleansed? Because, he still had power. Despicably interwoven with all of his thoughts and feelings and so much absence of both. He had it, and he was abused for it, and he abused it. And he had it. And he pounded his fist against that aching chest, spewing darkness into broad daylight, scarring the nature with his own wounds, bleeding with the Devil’s compassion, and he had it. Even the Devil wept for him. Even the Devil pitied him. Yet he had it.

He huffed a fly outside his nostril. Something stuck at the back of his throat, clogging the air. He hawked, discharging even more bloody mucus, now onto himself. Stained saliva swayed from his lips. He brushed it away with the back of his palm. In his lap, red rolled, young blood over old. He separated his legs to have it smudge all the way to the ground. Kneecaps scorched as he scraped them over rocks. Wherever they dug, blood trailed, two crescents set in stone.

To be unclasped. To be a stain elsewhere. This world made it seem too simple, lovingly palpable. But he was not bound to it, and in navigating the philosophical, he reached the inevitable: responsibility would set him free. He held pseudohistoric texts that hollered so, and pseudohistory was of angelic origin, therefore applicable to him. He could recall the tremble in his fists while reading it, mind screaming and shattering with the consolation, “It would be over. You’ve understood. It would be over.” But it wasn’t. Same questions yielded same answers, and these were not meant for man. He had come to know Hell by fulfilling all wisdom.

If someone could question him for once!

He whimpered, back arching him down. Another surge of wet coughs.

In the corner of his foggy vision, he spotted a plant unusually brown, leaves writhed. His head rolled to his shoulder to gaze at it properly. It was easy to care for the inhuman. None of it was evil. But to understand? Invincibly difficult.

He raised his hand. It trembled so fucking much, but it did the job, reached the plant. Wisps ignited at his fingertips, shaky too as they glided towards the leaf, erasing blight from it, rendering it a green slate. He gave it one stroke. “There…” he croaked like the ravens of September, no bird to caw back. Why would anyone, indeed, ever even murmur back? To tangibly, blatantly forlorn he. If anew, perhaps he could be fine.

It was no hope, he reminded himself – he remembered how it once felt. It was yet another stumble into the unknown, an experimental circumstance, to see if he could, somehow, appease the referential frame up above and renounce it. He cursed under his breath. It was never enough, and they? They never should’ve made themselves known. Mankind did not need them. Mankind never wanted right. There was no right! He gasped at the Heavens. Why would they ever impose themselves, if there was no truth?! Never to reply!

But who was he, to have his wisdom pacified? Forever the staple of cruelty, a child. Neglected all over again.

Flies ravaged the inside of his mouth. He spat some, others he coughed away. Another, behind the gums, he had to scoop with his tongue, and only then dribble it out. Useless troubles for a meaningful man. Cosmic irony, overlapping the entirety of his life.

He dragged himself up to the coastline. By the water’s clarity, by its estimated location, he knew this was not one of Aurun’s five rivers. It could be Rulde. Downstream, it would lead him to Szenevod. It didn’t truly matter.

His palms drowned in the river’s cold. The rest of his body above it, he could listen and stare at the steams. The reflection was expected, a face mauled with emotion and encrusted with gore. He hated the truth inside it: he was the saint. He would be eternalized on murals, his mantle the sunlight, his cohort the flora, his mouth bloody obscene, but the heart, the pastors would claim, the heart pure and so profoundly tortured! And they would assure fervently: the greater the suffering, the greater the Heaven’s lodge. He wouldn’t even bother to tell them the great truth that living for the afterlife could only give Hell, and he already held it, and no Heaven was worth the misery.

He was the saint, beloved only at a distance. He would’ve kissed that saint, if only he had known how to love him. He was, after all, right beneath him, gaping back with barren ambers. He could not hope for this man. There was nobody and nothing in the eighteen years of his existence that ever nursed his soul. Why keep going, if it could only get worse? He had made one fatal mistake, only recently. He licked sweet hope only for it to burn bitter, for one could not be defined without the other. He didn’t have to know nor to realize, for it had always been an axiom surer than the Sun. Him, a fool for ignoring the one truth he found, denying the axiom it supported, and finally, aching after the plainest of swindles.

Constantin, you did not care.

He could no longer care either. But he could cry. By all means, he could. Tears were harmless. He wasn’t. He did.

What would you do if you saw me like this?

He stared at himself through dreary eyes. Tears swelled in the blood’s mud, warmth draping over his face, uncomfortably coating it, suffocating the skin. He never got the answer. It wasn’t meant for him. And he squealed all of his helplessness for the world to ignore.

He hacked between sobs, hair and insects sticking into his mouth. Droplets and patches of blood gracefully dispersed beneath him, and he kept adding onto the red, throat itching to puke every violent sob, every harsh whine. It clenched so hard, gagged him, threatened to empty the bowels. He couldn’t breathe, for he couldn’t reach for air, and so no sound escaped his wet lips parted in a mute cry. Bile dripped from it, sour to taste. It had always been ugly, to what end? There was nothing to let out. Nostrils flared, he thought he calmed, once he pieced together that thought. Yet, in the dread of peace, he found it in him to scream like mad, drool and tears carried by the river.

Why? He didn’t have to. Nobody would hear. The river flowed on, the nature lapped at his body to nourish itself with his blood, tears, and agony. The usual. There never was a divine interference but to plague, and there never was an ear that heard unless it willed to. And he was so accursedly aware of it! And he wailed despite all of it! Him, foolish him!

Have him punished, someone! Tender hooves trampling him into dust and bones. Please! The same death he could not prevent! The same moment his power abandoned him, when he needed it most, when his heart shredded and when he came back to discover – death! His lifelong accomplice! He pleaded! Flies devour all of his rot! Rocks hammer all of bones! Waters bloat every muscle! Punish him!

“Please…” he begged for the umpteenth time, the mantra of his life, the disease of his death. “I’m not…” His hand slipped, gave out, and the water slapped him.

Indifferent, he dropped into the torrents to carry him anywhere. The waters silenced everything, mercy for once. If his anguish ever held any merit, he’d waste it all on one desire: never to bless this world with another Chosen One.

#chosen one #writing #wip #author #original writing #angst #original story #aspiring author #authorblr #fgtf #angel #demon #oc #demons #literature #book #angst no comfort #original content #original work #wip excerpt #writers on tumblr #far goes the farrago #writer #athanasius coelii #devil #athanasius #pain #original character

[takuyakistall]

a game? | jade leech

summary: jade has had enough of this little game.

tags: slight angst, fem!reader

author's notes: guess who wrote a fucking self indulgent fic at 3AM?? Yup, that's me!! Your local takoyaki stall owner is sobbing over this man called jade and this is unedited I did not read this the second time so eirjejkdbfkdcbdjbrjh yolo

"Stupid." Jade felt his cheek sting from the impact of her slap. Why was she crying? Was it not her fault that they were walking on a tightrope, one wrong step and they'll meet their doom? He loved her, he loved her so much to the point that he can't stand being with her anymore. And yet, he hated her. He wanted to make her cry and scream as he immediately wipes her tears away and whisper sweet nothings to her. Why? Why is he feeling like this towards her? He feels like his heart is being squeezed every time he sees her with another man, smiling as she engulfs them in hugs and pepper their face with kisses. He shouldn't have any problem with this kind of thing, he knew that she really didn't love him and her loyalty never stayed in one place.

People called her unfaithful. Jade knew that and yet- he allowed himself to be captivated by her and her charms. He was a fool for her and he knew it, he would keep finding himself forgetting about her faults and come back to her- it was like Jade was on a leash. He could never break through- even if he tried his best. "I don't love her." He desperately tried to convince himself, coming up with dozens of excuses. The tears were threatening to fall from the corner of his eyes as he crouched down, desperately trying his best to keep his composed persona. Did she ever mean those sweet words she told him under the moonlight? Was it all just a ruse? What kind of sick joke is this? Let him go, please.

He thought it was time to put their relationship to an end, he thought it was now or never. If he didn't do it now, he could never manage to do it ever again. He wanted to break free from her web of lies and deceit, that's all that he could think about, not noticing the longing in her eyes everytime she looked at Jade. "Why won't you look at me…?"

No matter what she did, he wouldn't spare her a second glance. Why is it that he'll only look at her when she's being unfaithful? Why did he even accept her confession if he's just going to act as if nothing happened between them? It hurt. Does she have to continue acting like this just to grab his attention? It was childish of her- she knows. She knows that it's so childish of her to do this and yet she continues to keep up this dangerous act. Why is she forcing herself to do this? Can't she just leave him be and move on instead of hurting herself more? No, wanted to cling on to that hopeless relationship she has with him. When Jade called her and asked her to meet him in the Mostro Lounge, she was beyond ecstatic. Did it go through? Her smile turned into a frown, or is it over?

When Jade told her the words she didn't want to hear- "Let's put an end to this game." She slapped him. "Y-You stupid eel!" Tears were forming at the corner of her eyes, she was about to break down. Driven to madness by her own emotions, she failed to notice the slight crack in Jade's voice. An angel, that's what people used to call her. Because no matter what she did- she was beautiful and kind beyond words. Now, they called her a slut. Going out with different men and eventually just throwing them away in a matter of seconds. It didn't matter what her labels were now- she was herself and she was a sobbing mess.

Jade was pissed. Why was he the one to blame here? What right did she have to slap him? "Oh? So I'm the stupid one here? Who was it that cheats on me with different men for almost each day?" His calm persona was close to breaking- she was pushing him to his limits. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them against the wall above her head. "Stop playing with my heart, please." He was shedding tears, he hated how he was being so vulnerable right now. Right in front of her- no less.

"...what did you say?" She stopped struggling for freedom when she heard those words leave from his mouth. No… he couldn't possibly…? "Let go of me, Jade." She demanded, her voice shaky and her face still stained with fresh tears. Jade reluctantly loosened his grip on her wrists, wiping away his own tears. It was over, or so he thought. She tackled Jade into a bone crushing hug- knocking the both of them down on the Lounge's carpets. "I love you." She pulled him in for a passionate kiss, her eyes closed as she savoured the moment. Jade's eyes widened in surprise, but eventually melting into the surprise kiss. The words 'I love you.' not leaving from his mind. Did she really mean it? Was he willing to give her another chance? Perhaps.

She pulled away, breathless as she tried to cover her face with her hands, shyly admitting her wrongdoings. "I-I did it to get your attention." Jade was beyond surprised, a small smile took over his face as he slipped his hand beneath her chin and tilted it up. "What else did you do wrong?" There was still evidence of tears on his cheeks and she couldn't help but feel guilty- did he really feel that way? "I guess I never really talked to you about it and went ahead with my bullshit." She admitted, Jade grinned even wider. His butler-like persona was long gone and was replaced with his raw emotions. "So you didn't lie about the part when you said you loved me, am I correct?" She gulped, suddenly nervous from the sudden question but she steeled herself and looked at him directly in the eye. "I wasn't lying. I do love you." Jade's expression softened. Perhaps, he could give their relationship another chance.

#twisted wonderland #twst #fanfic #twisted wonderland x reader #twst writing #self indulgent takoyaki #Octavinelle #jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland jade #twst jade #jade leech #jade #jade x reader #HOLY FUCK I LOVE JADR SO MUCH #iM NOT EVEN KIDDING I HATE HOW IM NOT KIDDING.

[vickylamore]

She Was Different

Choi Jongho x Female Reader

Tokyo Ghoul AU

Angst.

Inspired by Remember by KATIE and Different by WOODZ.

Notes: its 7 am and I want to sleep. Not my best work but I had an idea and just wrote it lmak.

Warnings: death, really short, unedited.

//

Coffee was the first drink he'd try that never made him throw up. It was suggested by his leader and he's stuck with it ever since.

But he's pretty horrible at making coffee himself and it never truly replicates the sweet yet bitter smell and the firewood like earthly taste of her coffee shop across the university.

It was different. She was different, it's what Jongho kept telling himself. She was, she had to be.

You were sweet and innocent like an angel ascended from heaven. You  were literally God's work, unlike himself, a merciless monster. Your eyes brimmed with so much hope and joy, one that could easily be shattered and twisted into sorrow before anyone could blink.

She was different.

The first time Jongho had met you was when he wanted to try out the newest coffee shop down the block, you just so happened to be the owner. He was cautious at first, everyone knows that ghouls lurked in the empty and solemn alleyways to catch their next prey, your shop was next to a few, making it dangerous at night.

But the more he got to know you, the easier he understood your carefree and adventurous personality, your YOLO mindset and your upbeat attitude. You were nice but fierce, something Jongho never expected from the girl who worked the shop down the block.

She was different.

The first time you both had a conversation was when you bonded over a book and the smile, God the smile that laced your face was a picture in Jongho’s mind, one he'd never erase. So bright, so beautiful, so perfect.

The first time his group mates saw both of you together, they told him to stay away. Hongjoong made it clear,

"Get rid of her," Jongho still remembers the coldness and hatred tones to his leader's voice as he peered over the warehouse railing, eyes bloodshot red. "She'll be a distraction, she'll make you weak. If you don't, I'll do it myself."

The rest of the members ignored his requests when he wanted them to meet you. Idiot, human-lover and all sorts of names were thrown at him. He didn't care though, he shouldn't because he had you.

She was different.

But Jongho underestimated one thing from his leader; that he never goes back on his words. Hongjoong had given him nearly three months to make you run away, you only drew closer to the youngest ghoul.

You would go on dates, trips and walks. You'd talk about everything and anything like both of you were long lost soulamtes, an admiration behind his eyes everytime he smiled into your eyes and you his.

He found you, a human, who made his life now only better but also complete. No one thought that an human and a ghoul would be together, let alone for à long time.

But all good things come to an end.

She was different after all. She was human after all. She was perfect… after all.

Jongho had locked himself inside his room, his kagune walls and pillows, eyes blurring with tears and shining a red hue as he cried. His hands holding his head, he cried over and over again.

Although she was perfect in Jongho’s eyes, but Hongjoong had enough. Either he was already in a horrible mood or he was fed up with Jongho’s stalling, the younger would never know.

He'd never know why Hongjoong snapped your neck in half.

He didn't know why he did it, whether to teach him a lesson more acceptable than other thoughts. But it didn't hurt any less, not while the defining crack echoed through the empty park, not while he caught you and cried, not while he sobbed against your cold body, wishing you to come back.

"It was for your own good," his words irking him, if tonight. "I did what I had to do to keep you and everyone here. Ghouls don't mix with humans and humans don't mess with ghouls."

But he wanted to, Jongho wanted to so much. He wanted to be with you every second of every minute. He didn't want to be alone, but he saw.

He sobbed in his room, his eyes red and raging in anger as well as sullen in grief and sorrow. He never unstood why Hongjoong did what he did, he'll never forget, not while he's alive.

You were the one he trusted, the one he yerned for and wanted. You trusted him to protect you and now he was grieving in his room, calling out your name like you would appear and comfort.

Comfort, support, love. The things you gave him because you were you. You didn’t deserve to die, you were supposed to keep living but you were you.

Jongho sobbed, the only souvenir he had of you was the coffee mug you gave  him as a gift. He clung onto the mug, pressing it against his chest as more tears stained his shirt, leaving teardrop droplets.

"Im sorry," he whispered while banging his head on the door. "Im so sorry."

She died because she was different from the others. She died because Jongho was different too. Too different to be with a human, too different to be a human-lover… 

She died because she was different, and he was too different for her.

#choi jongho #ateez #jongho #jongho x reader #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez jongho #ateez angst #jongho angst #Jongho fic #ateez fic #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #Jongho fanfic #tokyo ghoul au #ateez series #ateez ff #vickywritings #vickylamore

[minsugapie]

Mary’s Song: part 16b (3034 words) - Fighting

• • • • • •

Jeon Jungkook wasn’t just your anime-loving, manga-drawing, hair-pulling, ex-neighbour. You hadn’t even spoken to him since he had moved away. But the world worked in funny ways because...

He was probably the reason you were still alive. 

• • • • • •

“And our daddies used to joke about the two of us

Growing up and fallin' in love

And our mamas smiled, and rolled their eyes

And said, "Oh, my, my, my””

• • • • • •

previous // current \\ next

masterlist 

• • • • • •

Tags : @minhyuksfatgf @igotarmyofarohas @dixonsbugaboo @thealexalcala @salty-for-suga @worshiphoseok @okaysoplshelpme @jeonlovers @acupfullofsuga @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @hannahdinse8 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dammit-jjk​ @dreamcatcherjiah @xxxanimangxxx @wrmnssoul @ephyra1230 @imynnow @prdshobi @klverse @butterflylion @fuddyize @ahnneyong @nanie5 @squidyelmosquidbutt @uxwi 

• • • • • •

I feel so much internal embarrassment after writing this but yolo I guess… but uh yeah, this is SMUT so do with that what you will. 

**also this is unedited so sorry for mistakes. we all know im the queen of typos as it is...oof

• • • • • •

You’d just finished messaging Coven about what your plans were for tonight, and how you would go about it. However, your nerves were still on high-alert. Jungkook had denied you a few times now, and you knew that if this didn’t persuade him, then you’d be devastated. 

You realized he had his reasons, but you wanted him now. He was making it extremely difficult to continue being friends. There was just a point where you needed to evolve. At least you were sure that you’d go crazy if you had to keep pretending like you hadn’t been head over heels for  this boy since you were six…even with the large speed bump in between your meetings.

You sighed, finally getting up from the bed and deciding to do something. Jungkook was working at the desk in the living room, so you knew you wouldn’t be interrupted by him as you got the room, and yourself, ready. The first thing you did was make the bed tidy up the space, making sure that it was tidy before heading into the bathroom. You locked the door and stared at yourself in the mirror for a white a few minutes. You listened to a full song that Jungkook was drawing to before you took a deep breath and started the shower, getting your razor, shampoo, and body wash. You wanted it to be as perfect as possible; you wanted to look as perfect as possible. The shower that only normally took you a few minutes took longer than usual, and you hoped that he hadn’t realized. You spent extra time brushing your teeth and blowdrying your hair, too. 

Who were you kidding? He didn’t notice anything when he was drawing. 

You were again staring at yourself in the mirror, wondering if you should’ve put on makeup or not. You decided on makeup (but not an aggressive amount) because you wanted to have the whole experience of the beautiful lingerie that Cherry bought you. You thought it would look incomplete without it. 

Rushing back into the bedroom after you finished getting ready, you only briefly took a peak into the living room to see what Jungkook was doing. He hadn’t moved. Maybe he’d slouched over slightly, but that was it. 

Digging into the back of one of the drawers in the dresser that Jungkook bought for you, you found the box with the present inside. You took it out carefully, pulling it out and taking a good look at it. You wondered if you could even pull it off…if he would even like it. However, before you could back out, Cherry’s voice floated into the back of your mind, telling you that you were beautiful and that he’d love it. It was enough for you to drop the towel and put it on right then and there. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing you’d worn, but it wasn’t too bad. You let your fingers feel the fabric draping down your body and you hummed it approval. It looked exactly like the first time you’d tried it on, if not maybe slightly better after all this mental preparation that you did. 

You hung the towel on your hook before taking one last look at yourself in the mirror. Yes, this would have to do. Taking your thousandth deep breath of the day, you made both your hands into fists and whispered, “Fighting!” 

There was a change of plans because you decided that calling him into the room wouldn’t get his attention like you wanted, so you changed tactics. Instead, you tiptoed out to where Jungkook was sitting, trying to be as quiet as you were able. Instead of just walking in front of you, you peeked your head over the side of his shoulder, taking a peak at what he was drawing. It was Honey, not that you figured it would be anything else. She was the main character of his webtoon. Yet, you’d noticed recently her becoming even more realistic…

“You smell nice. Did you have a shower?” He asked, not taking his eyes off the tablet. 

“I got ready…are you busy?” you asked, moving one of your hands around to his front and resting it on his chest. You briefly felt his heartbeat increase, giving you a slight boost of confidence. 

“I’m just drawing,” he answered, but you noticed his pen stop moving as your hand moved down his chest to feel his muscle. “What are you doing?” He added before you could answer. He grabbed your hand from on his chest and pulled you around so he could see you from the front. As soon as you came into view, he froze. 

“What do you think?” You asked, waiting for any sort of reaction from him that wasn’t only his face the was void of emotion. 

“What is that?” He asked, clearing his throat. You noticed his eyes wander around, stopping briefly on your breasts before forcefully moving back to your eyes. 

“Cherry bought this for me for Christmas,” you admitted, taking a small step towards him. He hopped out of his chair so quick that it almost fell over. He was acting as if you touch would set him on fire. 

“Cherry…” he swore, taking a step back again. Licking his lips once, he continued, “But why are you wearing it right now?” 

You cocked your head to the side, pushing some hair behind your shoulder. “What? You don’t like it?”

“No!” He answered a little too quickly. Realizing his betrayal, he added, “But shouldn’t that be saved for when you’re going to do something?”

Now you took another step towards him, grabbing his hand. He didn’t move; it was like he had no idea what to do. “What if I told you I was going to do something?”

“What do you mean?”

“…with you.” You finished, pulling him backwards towards the bedroom you shared. 

“Wait, what exactly is happening right now?” He asked, looking around the apartment like he needed to look at anything else but you. 

“You’re a smart boy, Bun, can’t you figure it out?” You asked, knowing you would eventually succeed when he tightly closed his eyes and threw his head back while still letting you drag him to the bedroom. 

“Honey, I can’t,” he said the dreaded words again, running his free hand through his wild hair. 

“If I hear that one more time,” you warned, pulling him closer to you. 

“What do you want from me?” He asked, eyes still closed.

“D-do you not want to? Don’t lie to me, either. I can tell when you’re lying.”

He opened his eyes and made a face. “That’s what you’re worried about? That I don’t want to? Look at yourself, Honey, of course I want to. This is just so complicated.”

You took his arms and spun him around, sitting him down on the edge of the bed. “It’s really not…just stop thinking so much about what you think I want and do what you want for once.”

He stared up at you with his lips slightly parted. He seemed to be paralyzed for a minute, so you grabbed his hands again and led them to your hips. His eyes snapped to his hands, and he started to move them across the soft material. The material bunched under his palms as his hands move up towards your breasts. You stepped closer to him, making it easier for the both of you until he unexpectedly pulled you down onto his lap. “Is this what you wanted?” He whispered, moving in towards your lips. 

“I want more,” you confidently admitted before kissing him. 

“How much more?” He asked after moment, moving your hips to tell you to grind into him. 

“Do I even need to answer that?” You asked, taking his bottom lip between you teeth playfully. 

He groaned into your mouth, and you smiled in response. 

“Fuck, Honey, you don’t even understand how much I’ve thought about this moment,” he revealed, flipping you over and pushing your back into the bed. “Remind me to thank Cherry unnie next time I see her…This thing is not coming off tonight.” His eyes roamed freely around your body now, and you let your arms fall to your side, allowing him to do whatever he wanted for a minutes. 

His fingers lightly traced from your lips down your chest and between your breasts, lips following closely behind. 

“She knows it’s being put to good use already,” you breathed, trying to remain steady as his hot lips started to press kisses on your hips. 

“She knows what’s going on?” He asked, spreading your legs apart and brushing his nose over the lace underwear. 

“Why do you think Jimin and Tae left in a rush?” You struggled to concentrate as he played with you. “I asked them to leave.”

You squirmed, trying to keep focused. In a second, Jungkook stopped all movements and hovered above you. “What exactly did you say to everyone?”

You bit your lip to try to stop yourself from laughing at his confused expression. But now you wanted some power over him. Before you answered, you pulled at the bottom of his hoodie, trying to tug it over his head. You flipped him over, taking the chance to admire him for once. “I told them that I wanted to have sex with you, so they needed to be out of the house,” you shrugged, watching in delight as his skin got goosebumps from your light touches. 

“You’re naughty,” he groaned.

You leaned back down to his face and whispered huskily, “Have you thought about me when you’re all alone before? In the bed? In the shower?”

You heard him visibly swallow.

“Have you thought about me taking you? Or my tongue stroking you?”

He still couldn’t answer when you dipped your hand between your bodies and into his sweatpants. You watched his facial expression in curiosity when you cupped him, simultaneously palming him and rolling your body into his. 

“Answer me, Bun,” you demanded, wrapping your fingers around him harder as leverage. 

“Holy fuck yes, ok, I do,” he managed, and you loosened your grip slightly. 

You kiss his collarbone and neck before putting your lips against his ear, “Are you sure?”

“Yes! And it’s only you every damn time.” His hands were holding your hips to keep any sort of stability. 

“Because I’ve thought about you before,” you continued, starting to pump him. 

“Y-you have?” He was breathy, letting you do whatever you wanted to him. 

“Sometimes when you’re not home, or when you are, I like to imagine it’s you and not my own hand…” Jungkook’s digits slipped into your panties, pushing them aside as he started rubbing you.

Your lips found his again, and he eagerly pushed his tongue against yours. It was a sweet moment, both of you letting the other do what they wanted, but Jungkook pulled back sooner than you’d hoped when you felt him start to buck his hips into your hand. “You have to stop,” he said before throwing his head back and pulling your hand from out of his pants.

When you finally take a look at his face, you see his flushed cheeks and red lips. “Did I do something you didn’t like?”

“Oh not at all. I just want this to last to the actual sex part,” he admitted, rolling over to find a condom in a drawer near the bed. You were under him, smiling as he seemed frustrated at not finding the box right away. 

At his distracted state, you let your fingers slip into the waistband of his sweats, guiding them down the curve of his bum and hips…and you did let your fingers linger on the hard muscle for a little longer. 

When he finally acquired the little packet, he pushed himself off you to take his sweats all the way off and put on the condom. You watched in fascination as Jungkook’s was illuminated by the last bits of sunlight, pinks and purples from the sunset giving him a beautiful glow on the already gleaming skin. His hands deftly put on the protection, hands not missing a beat as if he’d had a lot of practice. 

When he finished, you let your eyes linger on his stomach. He really was one of God’s favourites. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to take this off?” You asked, gesturing to the garment that admittedly didn’t actually cover much. 

“It stays on,” his voice was lower than it had been a minute ago. He’d regained his composure. “But these come off.”

His fingers hooked into the sides of your panties and pulled them down your waist. 

“Listen, Bun, if I forced you into something that you didn’t want…”

“I’m literally already naked and wearing a condom, and you’re going to ask me that…just shut up,” he laughed, positioning himself between your legs. 

You waited, already having a better time with Jungkook than you had with Nic. When his hand  went around your back, you took him in and grabbed his back to hold him close. 

“My seventeen-year-old would not have believed what’s happening right now,” he admitted, looking down at you. 

You couldn’t focus on any of his words again, trying to adjust to him as quickly as possible. You knew he was uncomfortable as you forced him to stay where he was for a moment longer, but as soon as you told him to move, he obeyed. Slowly, he began his thrusts but sped up soon. You didn’t mind, having gotten a lot out of him earlier.

Jungkook’s hands removed yours from his back and he pushed them down beside your head, linking his fingers with yours. His thrusts were successful in winding you up, knowing that neither of you were going to be able to hold out much longer. 

“Honey, I can’t hold it much longer,” he breathed into your shoulder, teeth gently biting the skin. 

You let yourself go as soon as you heard his voice, not able to effectively breathe or answer him. All you were able to do was breathily moan his name. 

“Fuck, it’s over,” he groaned, thrusting into you a few last times, effectively riding out his own orgasm. 

Jungkook’s face during this most vulnerable moment was a blessing to see. You said it once, and you’d say it again, he was one of God’s favourites. There was simply no way that one man could look so deliciously appetizing at every moment. You were exhausted, but if he asked, you’d go right into a second round…you were in no position to deny him. 

But he didn’t. He immediately fell beside you on the bed, catching his breath. 

“Fighting,” you whispered.

“What?” He asked, looking into your eyes. You stared back at him with equal intensity. 

“Doesn’t matter.”

Jungkook grabbed your cheeks, pulling your face to his. His lips found yours, and he smiled. Three long kisses were placed on your mouth before he asked, “Should we order some food?”

• • • • • •

“When was the last time you had sex with Nic?” Jungkook asked out of the blue, playing with your hair. You were laying together on the couch, and you were comfortable positioned half between his legs, half in front of him. There was a movie playing on the tv and the finished takeout on the coffee table, but you were barely paying attention. 

When you hesitated, he clarified, “I mean enjoyable sex.”

“Maybe eight months…it was too long,” you revealed, hiding your face in his sweater, which you’d gladly changed into afterwards. “So I guess a thank you is appropriate.”

You felt his chest move in laughter. “There’s no need to thank me, Honey. It was good for both of us.”

When it was silent for a minute, you shyly asked, “When was the last time you had sex?” Why were you being shy around him all of a sudden? “Be honest with me, Bun. I know you’ve gotten around.”

“I don’t get around that much, but the weekend before you called me was the last time,” he admitted, shifting so the blanket was covering you better. 

“How many people?”

Jungkook breathed through his nose hard before saying, “Why are you asking questions that you won’t like the answer to?”

“I’m just curious,” you answered, playing with his hand that was around your waist. 

“A lot.” He thought he’d get away with that but you were adamant about knowing for some reason. You knew you shouldn’t have been so curious, but you were…

“Bun…”

“I’ve hooked up with a girl every time I’ve gone out, okay. I don’t know how many I’ve had sex. Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you mad? Disappointed? Disgusted?” He huffed, seeming frustrated. 

“I’m not any of those things. I was just curious because Cherry and Yoon told me that you’d never been in a serious relationship.”

“They’re right.”

“Why? You obviously have enough people that find you attractive…”

“I guess it just wasn’t meant to be. There may have been someone in the back of my mind that I couldn’t stop thinking about. She’s kind of a pest and asks too many questions, but she’s cute.” He cuddled closer into you, spooning you. His lips were pressed to the back of your neck and you realized that he was done talking. Actually, in only a few moments, his breaths became deeper. 

He’d fallen asleep. 

Had you been on his mind the whole time? Even after he said those mean things to you? You’d managed to repress your feelings for him while you were with Nic, but now that he was gone and Jungkook was your present, you knew that they were deeper than you’d anticipated. When the heated feelings of tonight wore off, and you two talked about what had happened more seriously, you wondered what he was going to say.

Jungkook was your past. Jungkook is your present. Hopefully, Jungkook would be your future. 

#mary's song sm au #bts #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts au #bts series #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts smut #bts fluff #bts social au #bts social media au #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts x y/n #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook social au #jungkook social media au #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #jungkook series #jungkook x y/n #jungkook sm au #bts sm au

[remuswriting]

wip whenever i want

we luv when i work on ukai content (this is unedited yolo)

Y/N knew he had terrible ideas.  He knew his ideas almost always fell through and his friends always made sure to tell him that.  He still went through with every single one of them because there was always a chance it could go his way.  Chances were dangerous, especially with him.

His mother had told him that he had only ever had two good ideas: joining the volleyball team in high school and studying abroad in England.  Both made him grow into the person he was now at 27-years-old.  He was no longer the outside hitter who demanded everything from his players but the confident YA author who simply made his presence know just by his writing.  There was more that had changed, because 10 years can be full of change but he was still in love with his high school boyfriend, Ukai Keishin.

#wip whenever i want

[mountain-ash-and-rusted-iron]

this is an oc masterpost of all my haf-formed ocs languishing on pinterest with their messy aesthetics and unedited blurbs, in roughly chronological order of their creation, plus sorted by fandom. this post is only asoiaf, harry potter, hunger games, and riverdale, cos i have tooooooo many original characters otherwise and the post was getting incredibly long. (note that i love my ocs but these one’s are not polished or even the final versions of their characters, i just wanted to post them lol)

under a read more, if you’re on mobile start scrolling i guess, sorry,,,

Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire:

Laeya Targeryen: (child of Rhaella and Aerys Targaryen, born 280 AC - three years older than Danaerys) 

Fearful of her impending marriage, Laeya is eleven when she takes her younger sister and flees across the sea to Dorne, hiding herself and Dany with dyed hair and badly controlled magic. As Leia and Dani Sand they learn to live normally. At 15 Leia joins the Royal Guard and secures Dany work as a tailor's apprentice. When she is 17, an assassin tries to kill her in front of the Dornish court and everything changes...

- so laeya straight up has magic, which im considering an extension of the dragon thing dany has - she can control flame and for the disguise uses her ‘inner fire’ to make her eyes white-blue like super hot flames, cos the purple eyes are super distinctive. and then she’s discovered and suddenly politics are happening. honestly she’s entirely a way for me to remove the child marriage bits of the targaryen storyline (stop marrying off your twelve-year-old baby sister viserys u asshole) - in terms of meta/basics, laeya doesn’t have a fc cos most of my early ocs don’t, and bcs i picture her as emilia clarke with faked dark hair and blue eyes lol

and a quick aesthetic below:

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Kyrra Snow: (child of Robert Baratheon and Maery Snow, birthdate ???)

Kyrra Snow is the eldest natural-born child of Robert Baratheon, current King of Westeros, and daughter of Maery Snow, a Southron (but Northern-born) merchant woman. After her mother realises Kyrra was growing up a little too much like her father in looks and needed to leave the far South before she caught the wrong sort of attention, Kyrra was sent off to travel with her aunt and cousins. She is 17 and heading further north, to Winter Town, when Jon Arryn dies.

- kyrra’s another child of everyone’s favourite asshole king, and she’s got a lot of people after her head, but she just wants to travel and continue her work as a simple peddler. (riiip poor girl) honestly she’s not that developed but yolo -

aes:

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Brynn Stark: (child of Catelyn and Eddard Stark, Robb’s twin sister)  

Brynn believes in honour and family, and she is loyal to Winterfell and the North above all else. Likes - archery, embroidery and weaving. Betrothed to [some young Northern lord] to keep the bonds between the Norther families strong.

-i basically made brynn as a contrast to sansa’s pro-southnness and excessive femininity and arya’s anger and desire for swords (relatable mood tho lmao). so brynn is here to mediate, extoll the virtues of both needlework and weapons, make a decent marriage to someone she likes, if not loves, and hold down the fort in the North while shit gets increasingly messier in the South. and a possible faceclaim is Àstrid Bergès-Frisbey - 

aes:

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Rosienne Lannister: (child of Joanna and Tywin Lannister, born 273 AC)

Rose is looked at by the realm with dismissal, a consolation prize for her father, a spare daughter only useful for matchmaking, but at least able-bodied and pretty, unlike her brother. After a long betrothal, Rose is married to Willas Tyrell at the age of eighteen, cementing her role as the next Lady of High Garden...

- Rosie/Rose is a bonus Lannister, bcs why not. likes cyvasse and the harp, soft and kind and maternal, powerful in her own way. originally she was from a minor divergence where joanna survives tyrion’s birth and goes on to have another kid, but not sure if i’ll keep that aspect, so for now she’s tyrion’s twin -

and her aes (yes that quote is cropped, no i don’t care rn):

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honourable mentions to my other got underdeveloped got/asoiaf ocs who need more effort before i post properly about them:

Tamlen Storm, a rookery apprentice (working for the Maester of House Tully, managing the ravens) who may or may not be a reincarnated si-oc trying to save westeros, 

and an unnamed northern huntress who stumbled into the plot somehow and wants her normal life back (entirely inspired by Keira Knightley as Gwyn in Princess of Thieves, when she’s doing archery stuff and looking v butch).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry Potter:

Taurus ‘Ara’ Lestrange:  (child of Bellatrix and Roldolphous Lestrange, born 1978) 

Raised by the Goblins after a legal mix-up following her parents' imprisonment in Azkaban, Taurus is good with a sword and aiming to be the next Minister of Magic. She attends Hogwarts with the other magical kids her age, under the fake identity Ara Burke, unknown cousin of a minor half-blood family. When the Potter brat’s drama starts destroying her change at an education just as her fourth year, her OWL prep year, begins, Ara intervenes.

- im tangentially aware that as bellatrix’s kid she’s almost occupying the place of whats-her-name from the cursed child, but considering that i know nothing about the cursed child and don’t care about it anyway, i have elected to ignore this. her actual parent might turn out to be some smitten half-blood from a minor branch of the Greengrass family, or it might actually be Rodolphous, who knows. slightly inspired by the fic ‘Harry Crow’ (by robst on ff.net) where harry is raised by the goblins -

messy aes:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Valerian Potter: (child of Lily and James Potter, born 1980)

After the Potter twins’ parents are murdered by Voldemort, they’re dumped on the doorstep of Number 4, Privet Drive. Dealing with two traumatised magical orphans, Petunia and Vernon Dursley turn to violence and neglect to stay in control, acting far more harshly than expected. With the arrival of two Hogwarts letters, life gets complicated incredibly quickly. (Self-sufficient and scarred from abuse, Val and Harry are immediately Sorted into Slytherin). 

- val’s fic is basically an angst fest, okay,,, -

aes:

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and shout-outs to: holly addison potter, a half-baked reincarnation si-oc (i love that concept a lot, can u tell) and my fav girl thea dursley, who already has her own fic and so isn’t getting a proper spot in this post 

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The Hunger Games:

Asher: (District Two, age 18) 

[rip no blurb for asher]

-asher is a career from two, who wins the 70th games. mostly im focusing on her recovery and how the games function in two, with training volunteers and mentoring and collecting sponsors, plus eventually the rebellion. lots of the D2 headcanon i have is inspired by @/lorata but i defintely made a distinct effort to have my own stuff, cos where’s the fun in plagiarism -

aes for Asher’s Games:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  Rowan Everdeen: (District Twelve, age 19)

Rowan will do anything to protect her family. This extends to going to Head Peacekeeper Cray on a cold winters night, charging the most she can get for her virginity.  It extends to Reaping Day, when she steps out in front of the crowd and says “I volunteer as tribute” in the steadiest voice she can muster.  It extends to clawing her way out of the Arena, bloody and exhausted, with blades in her hands and violence kept tucked behind her teeth. It extends further, to a simple ‘Yes, President Snow’ when he coldly, carefully implies her family might meet with an accident if she doesn’t play the good little Victor (and fuck the people who pay the Capitol for her company). It extends to joining the Rebellion, to looking President Coin directly in the eye and agreeing to be a Mockingjay, a symbol for the people to rally around.

- another everdeen kiddo! as the big sister, rowan volunteers for prim, and goes through the Games - she’s a healer and a hunter, and a decent enough actor that she can manage interviews and a camera presence, unlike katniss. rowan also pairs well with a minor au i have, where the reapings are spaced out over a week and official training is a longer, giving the capitol a nice, long buildup to get excited and place bets, etc., and giving the poor, underfed tributes from the outer districts a better chance, which makes for more interesting television and better Games -

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Adrasteia Crane: (The Capitol, age 28) Unlike her big brother, Adrasteia doesn’t want to be a Gamemaker. Instead, she wants to create clothes, artwork, to enrapture the Capitol. She wants to be a Games stylist. After years of design school, of working her way up the ranks, first a PA’s assistant, and then fetching and carrying for Twelve’s prep team, and then eventually on a prep team for the dull tributes from Six, Adrasteia Crane finally has what she wants - the position of stylist for District Three’s male tribute in 74th Hunger Games. 

- tbh adrasteia is only seneca crane’s sister because i couldn’t think of a suitable last name for her lmao. i think i’d actually prefer her to be unattached to any major canon players. however, his death is a good motivation for her to join the rebellion, so we’ll see. she’s got a bit of the capitol fashion thing going too, with soft pink hair and diamond-effect skin on her face and shoulders -

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also bonus hunger games content: another oc, Sarsaparilla Verran, from District Eleven, fifteen and alone when she goes into the Games. An orphan, her siblings lost to the Community Home system years ago, her relatives dead or uncaring. So, Rilla is a wee lonely bab tbh. she did not want this, unlike most of my other hg ocs, and she’s not excited for weeks of murder. she just wants her family back, but since that isn’t possible, she’ll build a new family instead. and uuhhhhh,  spoiler alert, she dies before she can have this ://///

and my hunger games aus - a canon divergence where katniss joins the careers instead of peeta, her desire to go home to her family outweighing her reactive hate for the concept of training/volunteering to kill other teens, and a fem!Haymitch au where she’s a little wiser to the dark side of the capitol before she commits acts of rebellion (she still rebels anyway tho, just smarter).

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Riverdale:

Cat Cooper: (middle child of Alice and Hal Cooper) Cat Cooper (17) is the black sheep of the Cooper family. Her piercings, brightly dyed hair and connections to the Southside Serpents make her the odd one out among her sisters and constantly at odds with Alice Cooper. Cat’s life is occupied with her Serpent friends, work at a local coffee shop, and training - martial arts, supplemented with cross country, gymnastics and swimming. Until her older sister is shipped off to places unknown and her baby sister starts getting caught up in murder investigation with the absent Serpent heir... 

- haven’t decided between Catelyn or Catherine for Cat’s full name lmao. she used to be Kit, actually, but I changed it cos i prefer Kit to solely be my divergent oc (kit serafim). Cat is an ADHD disaster who loves her sisters and her friends and wants to get the hell out of Riverdale on a sports scholarship (she does either boxing or karate mainly, need to figure that bit out) -

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Georgie Andrews: (child of Mary and Fred Andrews)

Georgie likes soft drinks, cheerleading, and hanging out with the Blossom twins and Polly Cooper, their closest friends and a welcome distraction from their own problems. After Polly and Jason vanish, Georgie’s support system is almost gone, and they has to deal with everything they’ve been bottling up, just in time for Fred Andrews to get shot.

- also just angst ngl.  so georgie’s gender is basically ???, they enjoy cheerleading and not much else. they spend half their time dealing with depression, by trying to ignore stressful/hard topics and focus on the good side of everything. this isn’t a great long-term coping mechanism and has the fun side effect of pissing of the people around him when she seems unable to be serious or empathetic to someone else's pain (bcs she’s too busy deflecting for the sake of her own fragile mental health), so it gets fun when fred is shot and archie starts getting in too deep with the lodges -

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Sera Thornstone: (parents ???) Southside Serpent. Going to the Riverdale Community College and running errands for FP Jones. And secretly meeting up with her Ghoulie lover down by the Sweetwater where nobody goes. 

- everything about sera is vague and undecided lmao. but she has a ghoulie gf/bf/nbf? and they’re hiding that they were down by the river on the 4th of july, cos a serpent is an immediate suspect. going to community college to work on getting general credits before saving up for fancy school for law or journalism. the aes isn’t entirely accurate cos sera’s built from the remains of another serpent oc who i scrapped (she does have a baseball bat tho) -

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and honourable mentions to jen johnson and octavia blossom-murphy, my other riverdale ocs who actually have content, plus an in-development unnamed oc who gets adopted from the soqm by the Muggs family and growsup with Ethel. and my riverdale role reversal au, which i will never write but have some nice aesthetics for under the tag wip: bughead role reversal au.

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all my mini-aesthetics here are unsourced images/from pinterest. any similarities to other people or characters, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. 

alrighty that’s it. now i have to tag this behemoth argh

#ocapp #ashandrustediron ocs #ashandrustediron edits #i say edits #i mean neatly cropped screenshots #lmao #fandom: harry potter #fandom: the hunger games #fandom: a song of ice and fire #fandom: game of thrones #fandom: riverdale #ashandrustrediron writes #time to tag the ocs who will actually get content later #oc: rosienne lannister #oc: tamlen storm #tam actually has a fic outline unlike most of these other westerosi ocs lol #oc: ara lestrange #oc: asher #no last name bcs volunteers from two don't have last names #they belong to the capitol and their district #<- fun fact about that fic i guess #oc: rowan everdeen #oc: adrasteia crane #none of the riverdale ocs will get a tag bcs i already have riverdale oc fic im working on #long post #long post cw #oh and some warnings for the stuff brushed upon in the blurbs i guess #gender dysphoria #violence #child marriage

[ka-za-ri]

Press Play

It’s lunchtime somewhere. Have a sandwich. Pairing: Lucifer x Reader x Simeon Genre: PwP Smut Wordcount: ????     Tags: Smut, porn without plot, Demon sex, Angel Sex, Threesome, Toys, hand jobs, spit roasting, Sex Toys, Dom/Sub Undertones, sensory deprivation, temperature play, body worship, double penetration, size kink Summary: Lucifer and Simeon give you reason to look forward to movie nights with them.

Movie nights with Simeon and Lucifer became a rather regular occurrence once Simeon discovered just how large Lucifer’s backlog of unwatched movies had become. The angel made sure Lucifer set aside time once a week for at least one meet up. It took some persuasion, and a lot of pouting from both you and Simeon to get Lucifer to agree. The meetups started off innocent enough. Lots of cuddling and laughs were shared between bowls of popcorn as Lucifer slowly got caught up to date with the movies he missed due to his hectic schedule. It was a time for all three of you to relax, to enjoy each other's company and to forget about the stresses of the world outside. It was hard not to look forward to the movie nights especially after a week of study and corralling rowdy demon brothers. On that couch, you were safe between the two of them. There was no chaos, just a movie and their arms around your shoulders. From time to time, Lucifer would feed you from the shared bowl while Simeon offered you sips of his drink. It was pure, innocent and comforting. Until one day while were fully invested in the film and not paying attention to what they were up to, they slowly guided your hands to their crotches. By the time you noticed what they had done, they were already half hard and using your hands to stroke their lengths. “Oh, don’t look away, the best part is yet to come.” Lucifer said, making sure you focused on the flashing images in front of you instead of the growing bulges beside you. “Yes, you don’t want to miss this.” Simeon agreed, curling your hand around his shaft and encouraging you to stroke him. Lucifer mirrored the action and as the movie reached its climax, you realized you had a more interesting climax at hand, literally. It wasn’t until the credits started to roll when you were allowed to turn your attention to what the men had started. They leaned in, kissing you at the same time while your hands groped and stroked their lengths through their pants. Eventually Simeon won out, claiming your lips while Lucifer trailed his kisses elsewhere, down your jaw, to your neck where he greedily sucked at your pulse point. Their hands guided your own, showing you how they liked to be stroked and you were overwhelmed by the information overload trying to keep up with the differing paces they preferred. “Wait, Is this... alright? I mean, Simeon, you’re... an angel and all.” Simeon chuckled softly, kissing your cheek and nipping your ear. “Oh Little Lamb, how cute you are. Do you think a little sex is a crime punishable with a Fall? Humans are so gullible.” He rolled his hips into your hand encouraging you to keep going. “Why would the Heavenly Father find something natural a sin? There are crimes more serious than pleasure.” “Something like a rebellion?” Lucifer joked, squeezing your breast and he was rewarded with a gasp of pleasure when he pinched your pert nipple through your top. “Hmm Something like that, yes.” Simeon agreed and he let out a breathy moan when your fingers squeezed the tip of his cock harder than he had anticipated. “So, you shouldn’t worry about me, Little Lamb. You should be more concerned about how you’ll make us cum at the same time.” At the same time. You weren’t sure how you were going to manage the different tempos they demanded, and your arms were starting to get tired of the repetitive motions; but you were definitely interested in seeing them both come undone by your hands. Just touching them through their pants wasn’t enough. Almost as if they shared one mind, they had divested themselves of their pants and both of them were kneeling beside you, their cocks tantalizingly bobbing in front of your face as you went back to pleasing them with your hands. Without the barrier of clothes, it was much easier to pull a reaction out of them and they no longer needed to guide your hands into doing what they wanted. Simeon preferred a lighter touch and long, careful caresses while Lucifer loved it when you gripped him tightly to go hard and fast on his cock. Though their rhythms differed, they worked in tandem somehow with your hands and came at the same time after you fondled their balls and traced the heads of their sensitive, dripping cocks. Their seed, covered your face and your hands in thick, hot ropes as their dicks pulsed and they groaned in unison. “Your turn.” Lucifer declared, licking the mess on your face while Simeon cleaned off your hands. Once all trace of their loads were gone, they turned their hungry gazes to your own aching crotch and they parted your thighs as they settled between your legs. “I’m hungry.” Lucifer announced before delving into your soaked core. “Snacks weren’t enough.” Simeon agreed before letting his tongue join Lucifer’s and you writhed as they greedily lapped at your essence through your panties. When they couldn’t get enough of you, the soiled scrap of cloth was wrenched to the side unceremoniously and their tongues licked up your juices, probed at your entrance and circled your clit. The combined heat of their breaths and the lewd, wet sounds coming from between your legs brought you to climax much faster than you had anticipated. “So soon?”Simeon asked, his bright eyes held a fair bit of glee. He pulled away and you could see your essence glistening on his chin. “The credits haven’t even finished rolling.” Without any further preamble, he dove back in with Lucifer to continue their post movie snack until the credits and the extra post movie scenes were over. “So, same time same place next week?” Lucifer asked once silence fell over the room and you were reeling from your third orgasm that night. “Y-yeah... that sounds like a plan.” ~~ To say that you were eager for your ‘movie nights’ going forward was an understatement. It was the driving force that got you through the weeks. The thought of being between Simeon and Lucifer again occupied your mind and often you were caught daydreaming about what you could get up to in the upcoming meetups. You came to know their desires very quickly. Simeon was a tease. He loved watching you squirm and writhe under the lightest of touches. He was a romantic, full of kisses and cuddles once you were doing being used. The angel had a mischievous side to him, preferring to take slow, deep strokes inside of you, forcing you to feel the bulbous tip of his cock drag itself across your walls and memorize just how good his cock could make you feel. He loved you on your back, sprawled on the couch and disheveled, moaning for him as he took his sweet time fucking you. All the while Lucifer would occupy your mouth, muffling those pretty moans with his member. He adored seeing your throat bulge with the outline of his cock as he fucked your face. The way you would always gasp for air after he came down your throat was so erotic to him and never failed to get him going for another round, switching places with Simeon who would kiss your bruised lips so tenderly before encouraging your tired jaw to open up and accept his own length into it. Lucifer was a rougher lover. He pounded into you without abandon anytime he got the chance to sheath himself in your pussy. You always needed to nurse bruises during the week after he was done with you; not that you really minded. Shameful as it felt, you loved the feeling of his nails digging into your flesh, marking you and reminding you of the times you shared with the two of them. Different as they were, they were passionate lovers and never ceased to have you reeling in pleasure every week. While the movie played in the background, they found new ways to please and tease you until the very end of the film. With how long they had been alive for, they knew just how to play you like an instrument, drawing out your pleasure for as long as they wanted. Some nights, they would fuck you without abandon from the beginning to the end, other nights, they would pass you back and forth until you were ready to pass out and your pussy was filled with their seed. Yet other nights, the three of you would be stuffed full of your favorite toys, riding and grinding down on them, passing the remotes to the vibrators to one another and teasing each other until you all were over stimulated messes on that couch. Pretending to pay attention to the movie on the TV was difficult when you had two exceptionally attractive men moaning beside you and stroking their cocks in time with the hand held fucking machine thrusting in and out of your pussy until the three of you came at the same time and indulged in copious amounts of cuddles and kisses before deciding to do it all over again. Their methods of pleasure was as varied as the movies they chose and every week it was a surprise until you swore you had experienced it all with them. You had a good grasp on what they liked and pleasuring them came easily to you now. As soon as the door closed and the movie started, the three of you would spend at least the first ten minutes kissing each other deeply, fondling each other through clothing before everything inevitably came off by the time the first act was over. From there, you could almost predict what would happen depending on how the week had gone. Some weeks, Lucifer would have you and Simeon bound and kneeling before him, demanding that he be pleased first before he even thought about allowing either of you to think about pleasure. Other weeks, Simeon would have you tied down and spread on the couch so he and Lucifer could spend the whole film kissing every inch of your skin and counting how many times you could cum before the movie ended. You were more than happy to adapt to their whims, listening to them without question and following their lead. You thought knew them like your favorite movie. That comfort and routine had you falling into complacent lull which was how you ended up making the mistake of thinking nothing they did could surprise you anymore. ~~ You should have known better that there was something off when Lucifer lead you to a more private quarter that week than the room they used for your regular movie nights. You should have noticed how well padded those walls were, how the dim light illuminated everything. It should have been an indication of how that they had plotted this for some time now when Lucifer cast an extra strong spell of privacy over the room. It wasn’t until you heard the rustle of clothes and feathers that you realized what you were in for. Both of them were glorious and their massive wings seemed to encircle you in a cage once they both approached you sandwiching you between them. “A proposition.” Simeon started, tilting your chin up so you were forced to look into his eyes. “How about we make our own movie this week?” He glanced to the side and your gaze followed his. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the recording device set up on the dresser. You swallowed hard, unable to deny how much that thought turned you on, but also how much it intimated you. Being on camera, being recorded with such beautiful men felt wrong. “Oh, I know that look, Little lamb.” Simeon cooed, kissing your forehead softly. “Don’t worry, you’ll do fine. Just follow our lead.” Behind you, you heard the rustle of clothing as Lucifer disrobed. He took your hand and brought you to the massive bed. You didn’t remember Simeon’s room being this spacious, nor the bed so large, but you didn’t have time to think about your whereabouts as your hands were tied above you to the headboard. Your legs were spread and tied to the posts at the foot of the bed. Once Lucifer was sure you weren’t going anywhere, he sat down next to you, his fingers brushed through your hair and his wings gently caressed your arms as he directed your attention to the angel in front of you. “Watch.” he commanded, and you could only obey. What followed was the most sinful strip tease. Simeon dropped the cloak he normally wore around his arms and let you drink in his angelic form. The white wings framed his body, keeping your eyes on him and only him as he traced all of his dips and curves through his skin tight clothes, peeling them off slowly, enticing you with every new inch of skin he revealed. You were practically drooling when his pants finally came off. You gasped when you saw his girthy cock and you shuddered, wondering if you could take something like that in you. Which suddenly brought the thought of Lucifer’s dick to the forefront of your mind. Glancing to the side, you took stock of his member and gulped at the monster between his legs. The demon chuckled, his fingers still stroking your hair gently and he leaned in for a soft kiss. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure you’ll be properly ready for us by the end of the night. For now, relax.” You nodded, but you were unable to take your thoughts away from the tapered tip of Simeon’s cock which gave way to a massive swell. You unconsciously clenched just imagining how wide he would stretch you out before you could get to the base. The swirling ridges and thick veins of his member were unlike anything you had seen before, at the base, you could make out a substantial ring of taught muscle you could only imagine being used to lock him into place once he was inside of you, similar to the hefty knot that sat at the base of Lucifer’s cock. “You’re thinking too much.” Simeon chided coming over to grace your lips with a soft kiss. “I promise you’re in good hands.” He reassured. Your body was still tense with intimidation, his words did little to alleviate the fear and he could see it in your eyes. Beside you, you heard Lucifer sigh and pad across the room looking for something. “I suppose we’ll have to find other ways to relax you.” He came back a moment later with a silken blindfold. Carefully draping it over your eyes, he made sure it was securely on before dipping down and kissing you deeply until you moaned into his mouth and were breathless. “Better.” There was a moment of silence between the three of you while the angel and the demon contemplated just how to relax you. Lucifer had been so excited to get you tied up, he had forgotten to take your clothes off and so the first step was working together to undress you, undoing the ties only when it was necessary to slip your clothes off. You visibly shivered when you were left bare in front of them, in front of that camera. “Better.” Simeon finally agreed now that all three of you were in a similar state of undress. You heard a soft popping sound followed by a sharp gasp from Simeon. You heard it again but this time followed by a quiet grunt from Lucifer. Confused, shook your head back and forth, trying to figure out what had happened. Your confusion stopped when you felt the softest tickle of a feather caress your skin. There was the sound of wings flapping as they adjusted to fit you in a feathered cage. “Did you know....” Lucifer drawled, dragging his feather across your skin and watched as you twitched under the light touches.  “You’re absolutely adorable when you’re at our mercy?” “You are.” Simeon agreed, teasing your spread pussy with the tip of his feather. “You’re so cute when you’re an incoherent mess for us. I can’t help but look forward to seeing what kind of faces you can make tonight when our cocks make you scream.” You shivered, struggling against your bindings but to no avail. The knots held tight and you were helpless. You could only focus on the tingling sensation that followed in the wake of their teasing. The feathers felt different from each other. The one Lucifer dragged across your body to tease your nipples left a trail of warmth, like a soothing touch on heated skin after being spanked. The tip of the feather prodded your nipples until they were aching and sore, the heat intensifying until it was almost unbearable. As soon as it got too much, he would move to your other breast, repeating the process in a cycle that had your mind reeling. Simeon’s lips were practically attached to your neck, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin there while his feather toyed your pussy. The cool, tingling sensation spread across your nether lips and down your thighs as he drew errant patterns across your skin, watching in awe as goosebumps appeared in the wake of his feather. Your clit was toyed with until it was almost numb, your essence coating the feather, soaking it as he continued to toy with your body. Then, they switched. The heat moved to your core and the chill traveled up your abdomen to tease your nipples. The drastic change in temperatures had you wailing and thrashing as the heat from Lucifer’s feather felt like a brand against your sensitive core. The cold on your nipples made them pucker and stand painfully erect. “Adorable.” Simeon cooed, admiring how you heaved and writhed under him. He reached to the bedside drawer and picked up one of the candles that had been illuminating the room. carefully hovering it over your chest, he watched with glee as the hot wax dripped from the candle and splattered against your skin, welting the skin and making you cry. You were too hot and too cold at the same time. The assault of sensations made your mind go blank and all you could focus on was feeling good, sounding good and letting them play with your body to draw out every sensation they could from you. They weren’t done yet, far from it. While Simeon focused on wax dribbling down your chest and carefully let hot droplets tease your oversensitive nipples, Lucifer had reached to the ice bucket which housed a bottle of wine. Finding a suitably small piece of ice, he dragged it across your thighs after his feather, making you shiver and moan. Pausing at the apex of your thighs for a moment, he let you catch your breath before sliding the melting ice into your waiting hole. His finger pulled back the fleshy hood of your clit and he pressed the feather directly against the bundle of nerves, rubbing it roughly, coating it with your essence and overwhelming you with heat and cold at the same time. “You can cum when the ice is melted.” He stated, assaulting your clit with the feather. His teeth found your collarbone and he bit down, hard, kissing your skin after he left his mark. Watching you come undone from their combined efforts was nothing short of a treat. The chill of ice within you faded as your own body heat melted the cold object. It felt like it took eons to do as Lucifer asked, but as soon as you no longer felt the ice in you, your whole body shuddered in completion, your inner walls collapsed clenching around nothing and your clit throbbed almost painfully as you rode out the waves of pleasure from your intense climax. Both the angel and the demon descended on your lips when you came, kissing you deeply thrusting their tongues into your mouth, moaning as they drank in the sounds of your orgasm. The blindfold was ripped off your face and you blinked to adjust your eyes to the light once more. They kissed you until you were breathless, tired and dizzy, but the night had only begun. You knew matter how tired you were, the two of them would push you past whatever limits you had until they too were satisfied. “There, nice and relaxed.” Simeon purred, carefully peeling off the dried wax from your skin and admiring the patterns it had left across your chest. He dipped between your breasts, pressing soft kisses on the tender skin while you were still wrapped in the afterglow of your climax. The ties that held your arms and legs were undone and Lucifer cradled you in his lap, fondling your tender breasts. Your limbs slowly regained feeling and your bleary vision cleared just in time to witness Simeon in front of you, stroking his length, eyeing your drenched pussy, licking his lips and dreaming of the moment when the two of you would become one. “I know you probably don’t feel ready, but I know you want this...” He leaned in to kiss you. Lucifer moved his legs to lock with your own, and spread you open for the angel. “I’ll make sure to go slow so you can feel... everything.” With one last reassuring kiss, he pressed the tips of his cock to your entrance, hissing from the residual cold from the melted ice. Your canal warmed up soon enough as you could immediately feel the swell of his cock push into you. There was no time to adjust, his shaft was nothing but a series of thick bulbous ridges that only got wider until it tapered off just a bit at the base where the muscular ring sat. You were stretched wider and wider with every inch, losing your breath at the sensation of taking Simeon in this form. “There, now. You’re doing so well.” Lucifer praised, pinching your nipples to keep you conscious of the current moment. “Look at that, he’s almost all the way in.” Lucifer guided your gaze down between your legs and your heart skipped a beat when you saw that he was correct. There was maybe an inch or two left before he would be fully seated in you. You took a deep breath and allowed the angel to make the final push to sheath himself within your walls. Simeon let out a low groan, nipping at your shoulder and he held you close to take in the sensation of being surrounded by you. “You’re so hot.” He whined, “So tight, so perfect...” He grunted, rolling his hips into you and your body shuddered at how deep he was able to reach. You let out a breathless whine grasping at the sheets below you, reeling at the sensation. “I’m so proud of you, I knew you could do it.” Lucifer praised, trailing kissed down your neck. He glanced over at Simeon and gave the angel an imperceptible nod, egging the angel to move more. Simeon didn’t need any more encouragement, slowly sliding his length in and out of you as he was wont to do. He never fully pulled out of you, just far enough to the widest point of his cock before sliding back inside of your snug, tight walls. The ebb and flow of being stretched and relaxed had you mesmerized and before you knew it, you could feel your climax approaching. He could feel your walls fluttering in anticipation of the end and that was when he stopped moving all together. You were left hanging just at the precipice and you could see the excitement in Simeon’s eyes as he too was enjoying the moment; but you couldn’t forget about the demon behind you. “I hope you’re ready for me too...” He murmured softly and for a moment you were confused about what his words meant. The meaning became crystal clear when the hard tip of his cock pushed against your already stuffed hole, seeking entrance to a space that was quite full already. You gasped, squirming away from him but there was no winning against his inhuman strength. “N-no... it won’t fit , It’s too much.” You protested Lucifer dragged his length up and down your soaked lips, coating his cock in your essence before pressing against your hole once again to join Simeon. He let out a low, dark chuckle. “Breathe, my sweet, trust us.” He reassured. “Just imagine how good and tight you’ll feel when we’re both all the way in you. That ridge of his and my knot buried inside, stretching you out, claiming you.” You could see the image in your mind, but feeling it was something else entirely. You were already at your limit, or so you thought. But Lucifer was persistent and with some coaxing, the tip of Lucifer’s cock eventually slid inside beside Simeon’s. Whatever limits you had were going to be tested now. Somehow, against the pain and the stretch you felt, you could feel your muscles clench, tightening against the new intrusion, accepting him, drawing him further into you. “That’s my Little Lamb.” Simeon praised, kissing you and distracting you from whatever pain your abused hole was feeling. “That’s it, take us all in.” Your mouth hung open in a soundless scream as Lucifer’s cock drove itself further and further inside of you. The long shaft going deep within, brushing against your cervix when he finally reached the base of his knot. “Amazing.” he breathed, marveling at the tightness of being together with you along with Simeon. “Simply amazing.” And then, they started to move within you. Their motions were perfectly synced making you see stars and the heavens beyond them. You clung onto Simeon, though your arms had long lost feeling. At this point, you only served to be a fuck toy for the two of them, something to be used for their carnal pleasures and you wouldn’t have it any other way. The way their cocks worked in tandem sliding in and out of your hole had you cumming almost immediately. But, they weren’t anywhere near done with you. Not until they claimed you and truly made your theirs. They went faster, deeper, harder until you couldn’t see straight. The sound of skin slapping against skin mingled with grunts and moans filled the room along with the sticky sweet smell of sex. “Oh, oh God!” You screamed when they slammed you down to the base of their cocks at the same time. “God is not here making you moan.” Simeon growled, digging his fingers into the supple flesh of your ass and gripping it hard, spreading your cheeks out to gain more access to your pussy. “There is no God here, just us.” Lucifer bit your neck hard, leaving deep teeth marks in his wake, nearly drawing blood. He seethed at the Heavenly Father’s name and it only fueled his need to claim you. “If you’re going to call out a name, why don’t you make sure it’s mine.” he commanded, forgoing any decorum and roughly thrusting into you, ignoring whatever semblance of rhythm he had with Simeon earlier. You cried out, tears streaming from your eyes, your voice hoarse from screaming and your body sore from the abuse it was taking. They made you feel like a sinner and a saint all at once, the mix of pain and pleasure too much for your mind to bear and eventually all thoughts faded to the background until there was nothing but euphoria. Your head lolled back, resting against Lucifer’s chest and you blearily looked up at the ceiling as you accepted your fate between these two men. They were nearing their own climaxes. Seeing you lose yourself in the throes of passion drove them to the edge they sought and your body reached its final trial. Their thrusting slowed as they pushed you down on the hard knot and thick ridge of their cocks. You couldn’t remember screaming, but you did remember thinking you were being torn in half. You clawed at Simeon’s back, drawing blood from scratching him so deeply. The angel hissed, his long lashes fluttering as he softly encouraged you to accept them, all of them. And then, there was pure bliss when you felt them securely embedded within you. It was a feeling of fullness, of contentment you had never felt before. It felt as if your very soul had ascended at that moment. With one final grunt from Lucifer and a breathy moan from Simeon, they released their loads into you at the same time. The copious amounts of their seed flooding your insides, causing your belly to swell as  you accepted their offering to you. The hot, sticky ropes of cum leaked from your pussy as they seemed to pump into you ceaselessly. You thought this surely must have been what paradise felt like as you yourself came around them one last time. As you felt your consciousness drifting away from you from your final climax. You remembered being gently lowered to the bed while both the angel and the demon were still inside of you. Their cocks were still hard and pulsing cum into you at intervals.  “You did so well, Little Lamb.” Lucifer murmured, using the pet name Simeon often used for you. “You deserve some rest.” “Yes, rest, my Sweet.” Simeon encouraged, pressing kisses on your forehead and your cheeks. “You were perfect.” “So... Does this mean same time, same place next week?” You asked tiredly. “I don’t mind shooting a sequel.” Simeon agreed wholeheartedly. “Why just a sequel? We could make it a proper... trilogy.” Lucifer chimed in, holding you close and wrapping his wings around you. Simeon followed suit and that night, you dreamed of what sort of blockbuster the three of you could come up with.

#Obey me #Shall we date obey me #Obey Me Lucifer #Obey Me Simeon #Obey Me Smut #Obey me Fanfiction #Lucifer x reader x Simeon #Welcome to the filthy sin bin that is my brain #Lucifer x reader #Simeon x reader #Read the warnings and tags above y'all been warned #unedited because yolo