Tumgik
#with hands recently so uh
sneez · 11 months
Text
i used to talk about this a lot on twitter a few years ago but recently i’ve been thinking again about how little agency victor kain has both within the narrative and as an individual. specifically i think a lot about how his life after nina’s death is one in which he as a person plays very little role, and the fact that his duty as her husband (and as a kain) means that after she’s gone the nature of his family’s beliefs about the preservation of the soul keep him trapped by design in a grief that is necessarily all-consuming. if he wants to keep nina’s soul alive he can never progress beyond even the first stage of grief: every moment has to be dedicated to her and her memory; he has to be constantly reminded of her and the fact that she is dead. for him to move on would be for him to essentially kill her, so he can never even attempt to recover from her loss. his life has to revolve around the space where she was. in that way i see him as kind of a living shrine, a memorial whilst he’s alive and a vessel when he’s dead. his path is called the mistress! his entire life is explicitly devoted to someone who will take his body and return to life when he sacrifices himself for her! he’s working towards a utopia like the rest of his family, but who is it for? he lost his son in the pursuit of this thing which he will never get to see, and which seemingly never had a place for him at all. the kains’ utopia doesn’t even extend to their own.
all of this pains me particularly acutely because of how clear it is that victor does have interests and desires of his own, despite his implications that he is nothing more than a mouthpiece for his family. if you believe andrey, he doesn’t even want to be here: he wants to go back to the capital to finish his degree. i often see people talk about the kains as if they are one undifferentiated entity, but a lot of the quests ‘the kains’ give you are from victor, and i would argue that in most of those he is acting as an individual rather than necessarily a kain. he wants daniil to free the wrongfully imprisoned people; he acts against his family’s interests in rewarding clara for telling him about rubin. his letter to daniil on day 9 causes me agony for many reasons but in this context specifically because it doesn’t seem like he wants to die. georgiy appears pretty unfazed about being possessed by simon (although it’s georgiy so who knows) but victor, who has two children and has been one of the town’s rulers for presumably several decades, is telling a man he met just over a week ago that he is the only one to whom he can pass on anything meaningful. you could argue that he is just manipulating daniil here to persuade him to take up the kains’ cause, but i am of the opinion that he is being genuine in this case. he doesn’t want to die. he wants his family back again, but the only way they can be reunited is with his death. he wants to finish his degree. i am putting my head through walls
84 notes · View notes
talentforlying · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
@handgiven: ❝i’m fine. you’re the one who got stabbed.❞ fallen em moments u.u — SIX OF CROWS STARTERS
' fine my arse. you're fuckin' bleeding. '
the rest of the sentence fades out to static, bullied back by the instinct he follows to catch em firmly by the chin and tilt his face up for better inspection, stiff and unsteady fingers fumbling for a pocket hankie ( thank christ he never fully gave up on the desire to dress pretentiously ) to crumple in his fist and dab at the dark streak sliding down from em's hairline. he still hasn't gotten used to this: the stomach-dropping, tilt-a-whirl feeling of finding em after a fight and seeing dings and scrapes and bruises. even now that it's become more common, now that em doesn't have a halo to beam down holy armor from the angelic mothership — especially now that it's become more common, now that they both know a nick at the wrong junction could puncture clay like plant roots in soil — constantine can't fucking get used to it.
devotion's simple enough to stomach when it doesn't cost anything, when the person giving it's got plenty to spare and has a finger on the scale strong enough to keep themself level. it's a different story entirely when you're the one responsible for ensuring they make it out alive at the end of the day.
( em's choice, to keep following him in. em's decision to take the hits and risk his newly-under-nine lives. still constantine's responsibility, because . . . because he owes it. because he owes em. )
it's only once he can see the edges of the laceration, shallow enough not to be life-threatening, that his lungs kick back into active service again, the release of air dropping his shoulders like the limbs of a cut marionette. then the static clears, leaving him blinking blankly, hands retreating to absently pat down his own chest for a cursory triage. ' . . . 'ang on, stabbed? how d'you mean, stabbed, i'm perfectly — oh, fuck me. '
Tumblr media
yeah, being stabbed would account for the hot and sticky something that's been running down his forearm and pooling in the crease of his elbow, wouldn't it? it'd account for the smeared fingerprints he's left on em's cheek, too. and, you know, there's the searing fucking burn in the center of his right palm where the perforation's gone clean through, now that he's noticed it. hard to buff that one out.
he looks up at the expression on em's face and just can't help it: he laughs, a nervous giggle that sounds an awful lot like shock, wiggling his claret-colored fingers in a gruesome sort of cooee. ' look — guess i'm the hole-y one now. '
6 notes · View notes
theinfinitedivides · 1 month
Text
recently every time i read an Aldis Hodge interview and he's geeking out like 'i got married!!!!! i have a kid!!!!! i'm going to be in [insert title of next coolest project here]!!!!!' my thought process is just 1. congratulations, ofc you're geeking out (as you should) and 2. do you need a third
3 notes · View notes
Text
The Temple of Life and Death
Buildings are so lifeless. Wood is dead, but stone was never alive in the first place. Buildings are dark and must be lit artificially unless one wants to pay for expensively large windows, specially engineered not to break under storm’s wind. Buildings are kept clean. Dirt is frowned upon. Insects are pests. Any animals uninvited are intruders who may be killed. Plants are kept in neat and tidy pots that limit their growth for lack of space.
Buildings cannot be a temple for Life and Death.
Worshipers gather around a clearing full of plants and covered in fallen leaves. Surrounding them is life, growing and consuming. Beneath them is death, decomposing and feeding. Death leads to life as life leads to death. The never-ending cycle of reality that shall continue long past any mortal’s imagination. Plants grow beside them. In their roots and bark and leaves, creatures live: scurring, biting, birthing. The plants grow and their leaves die and the ground is covered in their corpses. The leaves decay into dirt. Within the leaves live beetles and worms and all kinds of insects that aid in their decay. They grow and live and birth upon death and the cycle continues. The bird eats the worm, the bird feeds the wolf, the wolf feeds the tree, the tree feeds the worm. Again and again, life consumes life and death begets death. The holy cycle continues forever.
A temple to Life and Death starts as a clearing. A priest directs the construction of the temple. It is a community activity involving all attendees. They bend the young trees to form arches and doorways. They are careful not to damage the plants. Children run underfoot, weaving crowns and baskets out of flowers and reeds. Some try to help, tying long grasses to the base of a tree in a messy knot. Parents laugh at the adorable sight. The temple is not made in one lifetime, nor two. The temple has been alive and growing for thousands of years. Millions of families have dedicated their lives to it and thousands of plants have been woven into it. Where once it was simply trees and dirt, it is now a towering figure full of wood windows that let in pillars of light. There are floors of live tree wood and bridges of growing vines. The temple is not a building, but a living creature, an ecosystem, alive and dead and growing.
Light shines through the leaves, speckling the ground with green-yellow light. Each layer is full of open spaces, each floor designed to allow light to pass from one floor to the next. The center of a temple is an open column of air. Laying down within it allows one to gaze at the sky, where woven fences and tree crowns frame their vision.
The temple is full of life. Animals come in and out, birthing, killing, and dying. There are no doors, there are no windows. Only arches to the world.  
Each floor is covered in dirt from aeons of decay. Leaves and insects layer the floors. When it rains, rivulets of water trickle down through its many cracks, making small rivers that wet each floor. New growth drinks from these rivers and the cycle continues.
3 notes · View notes
cherrysnax · 1 year
Text
as someone who has to draw everyday, or else I forget how to draw, repetitive strain injuries are bound to happen but damn I didn’t know long it was gonna take to heal 😭 I have to take like a 2-3 week hiatus and if it doesn’t get better after that I have to take a few months off which makes me so nervous n upset
2 notes · View notes
heartual · 1 year
Text
ough
2 notes · View notes
sharkieboi · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
had a meeting with my boss and she asked “is it okay if i bring a lizard?” so of course i said Absolutely Yes it’s okay if you bring a lizard
1 note · View note
Tumblr media
september, meeting the family
from the @yearoftheotpevent prompt list
1 note · View note
technicolorxsn · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
current collection
0 notes
rene-darling · 3 months
Text
WHEN- you store things inside your boobies
...very obviously fem reader lmao, you store things in the middle of your chest...
...lyney...xiao...itto...wanderer...
Lyney
You're showing lyney a card trick that learned.
But no matter how much he tries to figure out where you hid the card he just can't get it.
He never usually does this but he's just too curious!!
So he's been asking- no, begging for you to tell him how you did it and where you hid the card!
After much pleading and you repeating "a magician never reveals her secrets" you finally spill.
You tell him to watch carefully and he nods.
His eyes widen and his mouth drops open as he burns red.
You reach down your shirt and pull out a card from in between your boobes
"I- you uh..ah.." he's stuttering, not sure what would be an appropriate response to this.
You just laugh "see, this is why I said you can't do this trick, your tits are too small darlin"
"h-hey- making you blush is my job! Not the other way around!"
he's used to making snarky remarks or dirty jokes he can't believe he fell for this!
Xiao
Xiao recently gifted you some adeptus beads
They were meant to ward away evil spirits and demons and keep you safe when he's not around
However, he's noticed that he can't seem to find you wearing them around your neck, so he decided to ask you about it
"y/n where are you keeping the beads I gave you? I didn't give them to you just for you to leave them somewhere to collect dust."
He huffed offended you wouldn't keep the charm on you.
You already insisted on not calling his name when in trouble so you should at least keep the beads on you!
You just looked at him amused telling him you had them on you but he insisted you showed them to him, so you did.
Pulling down the neckline of your shirt you reached your hand in to grab said beaded necklace.
His mouth dropped once you showed it to him and his face bloomed "i- y-you..you have no respect for the adepti!" he vanished after yelling that likely to hide his blushing face, and his boner
Itto
Recently you've hid one of ittos little purple bugs right before his little match with some kid
He's frantically searching for said bug, insisting that he has to take that one or he won't win! Not that he will either way
"y/nnnnn! Are you sure you haven't seen my little bugger! I really need it!" he's whining like a little baby!
Feeling bad for him you finally relent telling him you might have an idea of where his beetle could be
"REALLYYYY!!! You're the best babe-" you tell him to watch carefully as you pull your shirt down and from in-between your valleys crawled out the purple beetle you had hidden
His mouth dropped his eyes looked like they would pop out of their sockets (imagine gojo when he looked at megumi)
"not fair y/n! Why does the big get to stay there and not me!" he's thinking about it being unfair,
Then the best second he wants to see if the beetle would fit in between his tits,
Of course, they do. I mean have you seen his tits? He's very proud of that fact
Wanderer
Nahida recently sent the both of you on an expedition together
He acts like he's not happy but deep down he's happy to be traveling alone with his beloved
Recently you both stopped at a shop to buy something but he had forgotten his mora back at camp.
He looked towards you waiting for you to pay, he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at you when you looked at him amused and asked "you sure"
"just pay." well, he insisted, so why would you deny?
As soon as you reached down your shirt his mind short-circuited
You pulled out a mora pouch and handed some mora to the shop keeper like it was nothing and then again stuffed the pouch down your tits.
Grabbing the things you started walking away as wanderer stood there just blushing violently
Looking back you yelled "are you coming or not darling?" he snapped out of it following after you
"did you really have to do that in fucking public?" he huffed in embarrassment, walking back home with a boner is annoying
5K notes · View notes
justaz · 3 months
Text
country bumpkin merlin not knowing anything about city life and accidentally courting arthur without knowing
merlin, watching gwen give lancelot her favor: why do you do that
gwen, heart eyes at lance and not paying that much attention to the conversation: so he knows i’m rooting for him
merlin, with an Idea: ah.
gwaine, lover of chaos, pisser offer of nobles and royals alike, ultimate wingman: merlin…you have such lonely lips. shall i introduce them to mine?
merlin, unaware of the game gwaine is playing: so you can steal my breath away? i think not, scoundrel
arthur, crushing his goblet in his hand:
merlin: arthur’s been in a bad mood recently :( i should cheer him up
merlin, remembering when arthur was put out when merlin brought morgana flowers and not him: i know just the thing
merlin, bringing a bouquet of carnations, roses, and tulips and setting them on arthur’s table while he’s eating breakfast: good morning, sire
arthur, trained on flower language in hopes that one day when he was to take a queen he could woo her easily, trying not to audibly choke on his sausage as he reads merlin’s declaration of love sitting in front of him:
arthur, who recently found out about merlin’s magic and was trying to find a way to bring it up, catching him in the act and watching merlin panic to explain himself:
merlin, Freaking: and i swear to you arthur, i have only ever used it for you. my magic is yours. my life is yours. i am yours. i would never do anything to harm you. i have protected you for years and will continue to do so at your side if you’ll have me
arthur, already believing them to be courting, desperately trying to figure out if that was a proposal for marriage or not but tired of being confused and deciding fuck it: here.
merlin, taking it: i…uh…huh?
arthur, watching merlin with hawk eyes and trying to figure out what he’s thinking and feeling: it’s my mothers sigil
merlin, confused as FUCK but is focusing on the fact that arthur is handing him something of his mother rather than a death sentence: my…my lord?
arthur, realizing how scared merlin’s must be about him finding out about his magic and trying to comfort him while also proposing, killing two birds with one stone: i will always keep you at my side, merlin, so long as we both shall live. if you’ll allow me.
merlin, almost collapsing with relief and tearing up, smiling at arthur as if he had parted the storm clouds to allow sun to shine down on them in that moment: of course…of course, arthur. always and forever.
merlin, watching the castle staff rush this way and that: wow. this banquet must be incredibly important
sir leon the long suffering, day one ride or die, one of the original merthur shippers: banquet? merlin, this is for your wedding
merlin, overworked and exhausted: my WHAT? to WHO??
leon, regretting everything he’s ever done in his life that led him to this moment: to…arthur?
merlin, over joyed but also absolutely befuddled: i’m getting married to ARTHUR?????
leon: you two have been courting for the past year or so, have you not?
merlin: i’ve been COURTING ARTHUR?????? FOR A YEAR?????????
5K notes · View notes
with-ink-and-quill · 10 months
Text
Alone in the Torrent
After traversing the nightmare fog taking over the old graveyard and facing the buried traumas it dragged into the night, the party found the source of the horror and her nightmare protector. Left to fend for himself against the colossal knight and their giant mace, nearly crushed to death in one swing, Nik must now come to terms with the last long day. He may have banished the monster, but it lingered in his mind in more ways than one.
As the door shut behind him, eyes glowing in the dark room, he finally let out a shivering breath. He hadn’t realized how long he’d been holding it. It had been hours by now and the realization caused his hand to tighten on the glass bottle, claws threatening to mar the surface. Instead he forced his leaden legs to move, trudging to the desk and letting the bottles of his chosen poison clink onto it. With a shaking hand he spilled his journal out as well, ink bottle and pen tumbling after. The bundles of papers and expensive inks bounced to the tabletop as well and he eyed them warily. For once, he felt thoroughly done with magic. He didn’t want to think about it. The feeling of being crushed was still causing his breaths to wheeze, too fast and short. The phantom pain lingered: the earth sucking at his feet, the rock clawing into his back as vicious metal ground his ribs to dust, desperately trying to pull in a breath as the world forced the air from his lungs, choking on his own words and blood to force the magic free. The sheer terror of running for his life, barely escaping the next murderous swing and praying the second strike didn’t steal someone else from him; of being left to fend for himself and knowing that if he failed, someone else would die for it.
He didn’t register falling to his knees, his fingers clutching the edge of the desk so tight it hurt. Forehead pressed to the cold wood, he was gasping for air, vision blurring. The pain and fear of the last day finally sunk in, whipping up inside him violently. He was drowning in it. Magic may have physically healed him, but it didn’t make the experience disappear. Silent, wheezing sobs escaped him, long minutes slipping by. He wanted to bundle himself in the bed, shut away from the world in warm darkness, but the same thought caused his heart to beat wildly. Just the mere thought of being wrapped in anything felt terrifying. And as tired as he was, the buzzing from the Banishment spell ensured it would be a hard won rest. Part of him despaired that night had passed them by, as if the starlight would somehow offer him reprieve from the peculiar affliction. At the very least, he missed the eerie comfort it brought him.
Exhaustion eventually robbed the strength from his sobbing and he scrubbed a sleeve over his face to dry the tears. A grimace curled his lips as he felt grave dirt and rock dust grind against his bloody and sweat stained skin. Long hours of grueling hiking and miserable combat had left him filthy. It wouldn’t be great to try and sleep like this. With nothing left to fuel the emotional turmoil, he let himself slip into cold logic. He was tired, dirty, and beaten up. Sleep would eventually happen, and magic could solve the rest. A simple spell to disappear the detritus, but he could feel the power shoot pins and needles up his arm from the crystal. He had used a lot of magic without very much rest between, and it smarted. Trying to cast anything more complex would be too much, he didn’t have the energy, or strong enough connection, or whatever properly powered his spells. He needed an actual fucking break.
Which brought him to his bed. Apprehensively, he poked the mattress before sighing heavily. It brought back memories of the earth softening under his feet, loamy hands snatching to pull him under. He almost let out a whine at the tragedy of it. A proper bed was always one of the few things he looked forward to most after long days on the road. Sleeping on the floor wasn’t viable, though, unless he wanted to wake up feeling worse. With a heavy sigh, he spread his bedroll out and dragged the pillows and blankets off the beds. If he was going to have a shitty camp out in the middle of a gods damned inn room then he was going to have every other comfort available. Pausing for a moment, he arranged it all much like the nests of one very sneaky and charming little bird. If she found them a comfort, maybe he could eek out some for himself. Satisfied with his handiwork he finally set about removing his gear. Kicking his boots off clumsily, he tugged at the lacing of his arm guards and shrugged off the solid leather. His shawl was pulled over his head and tossed atop the pile of blankets making up his bed as he set upon the leather around his waist. Shedding that he finally removed the rather solid jacket, casting it only a slightly bitter glance for the protection it had offered.
With a sigh he sat unceremoniously on his makeshift bed, fiddling with the silver bracelets before tossing them aside. Next came the earring, then an absent discarding of the silver ring, and finally his hand came to rest on his chest before faltering. His crystal wasn’t there anymore and the habit of clutching it was proving hard to shake. Instead of dwelling on the uneasy somersault his stomach did at the notion, he busied himself with untying his hair. For a moment he just sat quietly, carding fingers through the knots the past day had created and taking long, steady breaths. He was fine, the party was fine. The battle was over and they had won. It was fine.
He fell back into the awaiting embrace of far too many pillows, his tail lashing out in annoyance among the sea of blankets. It wasn’t as comfy as the bed would have been, but he could easily put a hand out onto the very solid floor should he need the comfort. For a moment he missed Thorne. Having a cat to pet and listen to purr would have gone some long way to settle his nerves. The damnable creature was just as likely to claw him for the efforts though, and was charged with giving that comfort to Verity. He felt a pang of guilt at that thought, followed with a wave of anger and bitterness that had his tail thrashing. He knew he wasn’t being fair, but he was upset. She had abandoned him to the hulking monstrosity from the tower and then after the harrowing fight, had proceeded to heal him excessively before passing out from the effort. As if that would comfort him! He was horribly, gut wrenchingly worried about her now. Which was why he had left Thorne in her charge. At least this way he could check in on her himself without having to address all the messy emotions. It didn’t untangle the roiling mess of feelings that had moved into his chest, but it helped a little. He was still mad, still felt betrayed, still worried horribly for her. But it helped.
With a long deflating exhale, he forced himself to close his eyes and curled up under a blanket. First, sleep. He would deal with feeling afterwards. And for some few blissful moments, that plan worked. Until the bed felt too soft and the cloying scent of death had him flailing out an arm for solid ground. It had been too much to hope for peaceful rest. Electing to simply leave one hand resting against the hardwood floor and pulling in a steadying breath, he tried again. This time he got to the hazy half sleep, the border of consciousness bringing the relaxed comfort of almost sleep. Except at the edge of his thoughts he could swear there was a faint voice calling out to him. He knew that voice, so achingly familiar, far too much time passing since he had last heard her, and it twisted his heart with fondness. And then that fondness turned to icy fear, squeezing his heart until it pounded painfully in his chest. She was crying for him, begging for help, she needed him, needed him now, and he wasn’t there. Why wasn’t he there for her? He needed to run, to chase after her, had to reach her before it was too late. He still had time, he had to have time, he couldn’t be too late. He would never forgive himself if he was too late. She would be okay, he would make it, she’d be fine, she had to be fine-
With a gasp he woke in a tangle of blankets, still half fighting himself free of them in the confusion of his sudden wake up. The frustration and fear caused a snarling sob to escape him as he ground the heels of his palms against his eyes. He was so tired of everything. He missed Katya dearly and was terrified that his absence had caused something terrible for her. And for a moment, just the sliver of a moment, he missed something he thought he never would: the simplicity of home. It had been boring, but it was familiar. He knew all the monsters that lurked there, or he thought he did. But it wasn’t his home now, if his last conversation with his father was any indication.
In a flurry of exhaustion and anger, his fingers began the somatic components of a spell, the arcane words muttered under his breath before a stinging pain shot up his arm. He bit his tongue, unaware of his actions before the negative feedback shocked him. His body was suspended in silent hurt, mere seconds of agony before it faded. He couldn’t cast still, not anything meaningful. Not like his father would give him clear answers anyways. What was he thinking? Clearly a magical call in the early morning from an entity claiming to be your dead son after almost three years of silence would be well received. Especially when he hadn’t planned out the message already. What kind of pathetic, juvenile attempt was that?
Clearly sleep wasn’t helping and magic was very much out of the question. His arm still felt like pins and needles, an almost awful resonance radiating from the crystal itself; like the chunk of rock was protesting his stupidity. It almost made him laugh. Well, his pact wasn’t helpful so he might as well try another route. If his father was such a famous entity now, surely it wouldn’t be hard to get a letter to him. It was just as likely he’d burn it once he figured out who wrote it, but it would be better than doing nothing. So Nik dragged himself out of his makeshift bed, a fist tangled in his shawl as he trudged back to the desk. With a heavy sigh he plunked into the chair and set about lighting the lamp to spare his eyes the effort of darkvision. Only partially dazzled by the brighter room he dragged out loose paper and his pen from the pile of spilled goods, settled into his seat, and pressed the nib to parchment. He sat motionless for a long minute, lost.
How was he supposed to open the letter? ‘Hey dad, please keep reading, I know you think I’m a lying abomination, but how’s the new job? You happy?’ Surely a cold open demanding to know if they were dead or not would go over well. Or he could upend the roiling, angry mass stewing in his heart that his parents had lied to him, manipulated him into thinking himself mad, and then disowned him when he left. He could demand answers for so many questions about his life; why they felt the need to keep him afraid, why they couldn’t explain anything when he asked about the voice he heard, why they just covered for the people who hurt him when he was just a child. He could beg them to forgive him for whatever wrong he committed to be cut off so suddenly. Because he was sorry, even in his ignorance. They were his family, his only family, and he loved them dearly. They were his home and the thought of losing that extinguished the rage, leaving him shivering.
The pen left an ugly dark splotch on the blank letter and he let it fall to the desktop, his hand tightening on the shawl. He cradled his head in the other, trying to force himself to take slow, deep breaths. Life would have been so much simpler if he had never left Trestan. He could have been sitting at the kitchen table tucking into the leftovers from the previous night while Katya gushed about her plans about town for the day. Their mother would have been shaking her head in exasperation, smiling while heaping food onto her excitable daughter’s plate. Their father would have been trying to get her to stop at the market for this or that while mixing a bowl of herby dough that would accompany dinner as a savory bread later that day. And Nik would have sat there, listening contentedly, knowing he would have to do the shopping and chores, but that was fine. Because he was home and, if nothing else, at least he had his family. He knew he had love and warmth waiting for him.
Except now he didn’t, because he had left to chase a voice in the sky.
The chair rocked dangerously far back, his face blank as he stared up at nothing. When the legs touched the floor again, he had a bottle of honey mead in hand and was clawing the seal free. He took long draughts as if each one could somehow ground him, would chase away the cold hole opening up in his chest. He had never cared for drinking back in the village. He even had a great deal of disdain for the drunks that staggered out of the tavern late at night to collapse in the streets just to repeat it all again the next day. But they had seemed so insensate after it all and that sounded just fine to him now. When he finally stopped to breathe, he was shaking slightly and the bottle was missing a decent amount of liquid. He set it back down, picked up the pen, and hesitated. And then he wrote. He would jot down long sentences, cross them out, take a swig, and try again. Letters were torn up, crumpled into balls and tossed aside, and left unfinished. When his hand felt too sluggish, the script beginning to dance before his eyes, the bottle was half empty. It was hard to tell how long he had been failing, but then no, he knew how long the sun would linger didn’t he. Well, far too long for a simple letter.
The pen clattered out of his hand onto another abandoned attempt and he reached for the drink again, but he paused. The light glinted off the crystal and from something just peeking out of his bag. He dragged a dagger into the open, turning it over in contemplation. Would it hurt terribly if he carved the accursed rock from his flesh? The area felt rather numb normally and he was right sloshed now, it was as good as he’d ever get without asking someone else to do it. Would it sever his magical connection? If he presented it to his father, would the man forgive him? Could he get his family back if he returned to being nothing special? Would giving up this magic, this life of adventure, this identity return what he lost? The blade clicked against the crystal lightly, held a bit awkwardly in his right hand before he changed his grip for better stabbing force. There really was only one way to find out.
The warlock spread his hand flat on the desktop, standing up and holding the dagger above the offending appendage. It would be so simple. Maybe he’d lose the hand, but he wouldn’t have to hide it anymore. He wouldn’t have to worry about the implications or what mysterious role he was supposed to be fulfilling. Oh, he would be useless, but he’d be free. The blade pressed against the flesh bordering the crystal, cold and sharp. Just one push. A bead of bright red sprung up in response, vibrant and tempting. He pulled the dagger back, paused to shakily aim, and struck. He did feel a sharp sting, felt the blade hit something solid, but as he blinked down all he saw was a shallow cut on his hand and the dagger stuck in the wood tabletop. He had missed. Even this simple task was impossible for him.
He dropped back into the chair, dagger abandoned where it was impaled. His head fell back until it met wood, limbs limp like a puppet discarded, and he laughed. It was soft at first, a huffing of breath that slowly built until it was manic. The whole situation was comical. He was too special for the simple life of a villager, but too normal for the fraught life of an adventurer. What was he to do? So he laughed, because he had nothing else. He laughed until it hurt and kept laughing a little longer even then, before he finally tapered off. In the ensuing silence he simply watched the weak shadows dance in the room to the lamp’s light. He felt so tired and altogether numb now. The night had been a bundle of failures and it drew a heavy sigh from his lips as he sat upright. He was surrounded by a little sea of letters, not a single one viable. The ink stained even his hands and it caused his mouth to twist sourly. He was thoroughly fed up.
The anger bubbled up fast and hot, simmering frustration fueling it. He wanted to scream until his throat ached, tear the room to shreds, somehow vent the helplessness from himself. It was infuriating. He couldn’t talk to his family, likely wouldn’t survive pleading to his patron, and was being a stubborn ass with the woman he loved. He couldn’t write a measly letter asking if his sister was alive, couldn’t tear out the damned crystal that housed his cursed magic, and couldn’t be less of a coward when it counted the most. And honestly, getting drunk was proving to be rather a big let down. There were no numbed feelings, just a shorter path to anger and despair. Useless fucking drink.
“What I would give to cease feeling.” He snarled into the empty air, teeth bared to no one.
He felt it all too keenly, much as he liked to pretend otherwise. Loathed as he was to admit it. What had feeling ever done for him? Lancing agony at the loss, alienation, isolation in his life. It had gifted him simmering anger for his treatment at the hands of others, the pain they inflicted because they could, because he was different. Because he was weak and meant nothing, so it bit deep into his flesh and spread its vile venom to his heart. What was the small warmth in his life to the vitriol of living? Where was the purpose? 
He found himself staring out the window, squinting in the light and hating the headache it brought. If only he could dash the sun out of the very sky, plunge the world back into blissful darkness, bask in the moonlight and lose himself in the stars. He ground the heels of his palm into his eyes, exhausted, before staggering out of the chair. Almost tripping into bed, he clumsily tangled himself under the blankets. He laid flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling for a long minute before his eyes slid closed. He pressed his hand against his chest, just above the collar of his shirt, the crystal cold against his flesh. A part of him wanted to cry out to his goddess, to beg Her to take all the pain away or give him some direction to walk. Instead he thought back to the fountain, of the liquid agony the waters held, and the endless expanse of stars. He held that impossible sky in his mind, the cold comfort it reflected in the mirror surface he had walked. He offered up each ugly emotion roiling within him, all the pain and hope as one, to that sky. And slowly, with each breath, the keen bite of feeling ebbed. Even the itching buzzing in his skull seemed to grow quiet before the great expanse. His fear and doubt were simply dwarfed and finally, finally he could rest. Under that sky he could simply stop existing. Living was a chore for when he woke. For now, all the world was stars.
0 notes
blushfwul · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
꒰wriothesley , neuvillette , alhaitham , zhongli ꒱
genshin men x fem!reader, sfw, full of fluff!, just genshin men being their lovesick selves (loving how you feel around their arms)
Tumblr media
𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 knew that today, you'd be back from your commissions. it has been 3 days since he'd last seen your presence but he was acting like it was more than that judging by the fact that he'd been losing focus on his job. he was crankier than usual, his words carried a snarl each time someone comes in his office to hand them their own report.
sigewinne in particular was getting tired of his mood swings to others, she'd been the one by his side and noting the difference between the change in his mood ever since you'd left. she had been the one who constantly reminded him to eat well, sleep well and even do his work well but alas, her own words held a limit because in truth, you were the only one who could calm this man down.
"milord can you stop fidgeting please? you haven't finished your tea and it's already getting cold." today in particular, it seems like wriothesley was even more unfocused.
the documents on his table were already piling up, he finished some others from the past few days but not at his usual pace. sigewinne knew the reason must because of—
wriothesley quickly whipped his head from his table after hearing some commotion outside from his office, not a moment too soon, the door flung open with one of his guards chasing your frame.
sigewinne didn't even bat an eye and he was already up from his chair, meeting you halfway before he catches you effortlessly when you jumped onto his arms.
"wriooo...!" when he heard your giggle, he couldn't help but to spin you two around, with his arms still around your waist tightly, burying his face on your neck. as he finally sets you down, it felt like he could finally breathe again.
"uh sir my apologies but i tried stopping-" sigewinne puts her hand up to stop the guard from talking as she shook her head while she turned around to urge him to leave you two be.
before she closes the door, she took a quick glance, smiling and sighing to herself, thanking you in her thoughts as she expects wriothesley to be up and running with his work again, but even she knew that it'll take a while before that happens since when you were around, wriothesley would stop at nothing to feel you around his arms like that.
you were his one and only weakness after all.
Tumblr media
𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 was a busy man. he was even more busy these days because of what transpired recently. juggling between being the ludex of fontaine himself, when the responsibility of having his now returned powers from the hydro archon, he vowed to continue to protect the people of fontaine in his hands.
but now with much more work in his hands, he had little time for his little doe, even if you clearly told him that you understand the circumstances and you'd even reassured him multiple times that you understand him, he can't seem to accept it at all.
how amusing, the hydro sovereign whom many people thought in high regard was now being needy around his own lover.
he really tried to divert himself and just ignore the ache in his chest when he couldn't see you due to his duty. it backfired when you noticed the sunny days were slowly becoming gloomy all over fontaine again.
you already knew that it had to do something with neuvillette. so when you finally visit him on a rainy day at the court house, with only one goal in mind and that was to only ask of him about what was troubling him these days, you did not expect the turn of events afterwards.
neuvillette had you on his lap, at his usual space when the court house was open to hearings, but now it was just the two of you. his arms wrapped around your waist as you straddled him. he notes the way your cheeks puffed, the usual expression you make when you were pouty with him and just with that, it made his own expression brighter.
"i came here to ask you what's wrong... i did not expect for you to cage me around your arms, monsieur."
"how could i not? when you're in front of me, i always want you to be nearer." he tilts his head to the side with a slight turn of his mouth.
he lets out a hearty chuckle when he heard you grumble words. "i missed you dearly.." but when he leaned down to whisper those words behind your ear, you couldn't help but to melt around his arms, finally leaning into his embrace.
in that moment, neuvillette felt the rain already came into a stop outside, but what he did not want to stop was, embracing you.
you were his comfort despite of the things happening around him. the only comfort that he always seeks.
Tumblr media
𝐀𝐋𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌 had his fair share of relaxing days. when he was not inside the akademiya and not being the acting grand sage even for a day, he was at his own abode.
whenever he felt stressed or even troubled of his own position, he'd always run towards the library before. being able to see, hold and read a book was the only thing he'd believe as his way of 'relaxing'. it was always books, books and more books.
how could one person not enjoy the more knowledge one tends to be familiar with? or if not educational books, then he'd be reading poems or any literature that peaked his interest.
that was before he met you though.
right now it was slightly different. the 'slight' in which he still reads a book, but now, he was reading for both of you.
this was one of that particular relaxing day that he'd come to enjoy when you came into his life.
you in his bed with him, late at night as he reads you a story that you might like. it took a while for him to come into terms with the genre of book you'd like him to read but now, even if he'd read you something that he would like, you weren't complaining.
he stopped midway from reading the book as he felt your slow breaths against his skin, when he took a good look at your face, you were already sleeping peacefully as his arms served as your pillow.
alhaitham couldn't help but smile at the sight.
as he puts the books aside, careful to not rouse your sleeping form. he pulled the blankets over, fixing his position so that he'd easily snuggle with you.
"good night my love." he whispers as he places a soft kiss on top of your head. snaking his other arm to pull you closer to his chest.
he still enjoyed his books. but being able to now experience his relaxing days with you around his arms?
it was even more satisfying than that.
Tumblr media
𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈 prided himself as a patient man. being the geo archon, he'd already spent centuries with making and completing contracts with numerous beings already. he prided himself to stay calm and collected even in the midst of troubles and whatever problem he may face in the future. may it be big or small, he knew he could handle it.
but what is this? this feeling that was stirring inside of him as he watched the fatui harbinger's hand around your waist as he was talking to you.
it was no surprise that the ginger-haired, was a friendly one. he'd known him to be the type of man who would be touchy to anyone in particular.
even if he knew that you two were as close as his other acquaintances, must he really put his hand around you like that?
why did this particular gesture ticked him off and why did it happen now?
he regarded you as his comrade too but something had changed between you two. he did not know what, why or when it happened , all he knows that he needed to seek for the answer with you, in time, but none of that yet because seeing another man being close to you other than him alone? zhongli did not like it one bit.
as he approached you both with his usual graceful self, he cleared his throat, "it's nice to see a familiar face again." upon hearing your voice, childe was being his enthusiastic self with that grin plastered across his face, his hand down as he waved at his direction.
he did not care about the man's presence but when you turned your head to finally look at his way, zhongli didn't waste a moment to be at your side, snaking his arm around your waist, seemingly putting himself between you and him.
"woah that was quick." the ginger-haired whistled before chuckling, already amused at the sight. "i'll be seeing myself out. just saying hi to girlie over here." he grinned before whistling a tune and leaving you two behind.
zhongli's expression stayed unmoving before you looked up at him with those innocent eyes, "zhongli? is there something wrong?" he quickly disregarded that itching feeling inside of him before returning his gaze onto you.
"no..there is nothing. but i would like to invite you over for tea again. if that is alright with you?"
it only took you a second before you showed him that wonderful smile of yours that he so much adored.
"of course! right now?"
"yes. right now."
as you two walked side by side, zhongli did not even let his hand drop from your waist. seemingly he let his arm stayed on that spot. careful to not let his own grip tighten around you.
but oh how he reveled the feeling of this. of having his arm around you. no one else's but his.
Tumblr media
ⓒ blushfwul interactions of any kind is much appreciated ♡
4K notes · View notes
beautysamour · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟑: 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬
— 𝐂𝐄𝐎!𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
“Why?” Your boyfriend looked at you with a raised brow, two silicone toys in each of his hands.
You let out a shaky breath, the entire situation making it difficult for you to breath. You weren’t sure how Miguel was going to react when you brought using toys during sex—he’s always been the type to prefer using himself to make you cum, he took pride in it.
He straightens his back, “If I haven’t been making you feel good—“
“That’s not it,” you interrupt, taking one of the vibrators out of his hand, “I just thought it’d be fun to try,” suddenly you couldn’t look him in the eye, “a—and mj got it for us as a gift, it’d be rude to give it back after accepting it.”
You peek up at Miguel and find him looking at the sex toy in his hand. You hold your breath hoping that he’d—
“Alright. Are these the only ones?”
Without realizing it, your back straightens and your eyes have a sudden glow in them that was dulled by the previous nervousness, “For now, yeah.”
He chuckled at your wording, you planned on getting more?
“Great,” he sticks out his hand with the vibrator on his palm, “We can try these out after the dinner, yeah?”
Your body deflates at his words. After dinner? You can’t promise you’ll be able to wait that long, not with the other vibrator in your possession.
Well, that’s only if you stayed here.
He leans forward attempting to press a kiss on your forehead before his body falls against yours, his eyes fall down to your hand gripping onto his tie as he stops his tip with a hand against the wall.
His eyes flicker to yours seeping with confusion, “What was that for?”
You hum innocently, questioning his question.
Suddenly you release your grip on his tie, softly patting it against his chest as you smooth out the wrinkles. “You might be gone long—no—you will be gone long,” you rest your other hand on his chest, and start tracing circles with the vibrator on his left tit, “and the dinner will get rather boring pretty quickly.”
You lean up on your tippy toes, pressing a kiss against his jaw, “And the house gets lonely without you,” you press another kiss along his jaw, “And I’ll get bored—“
“Ok,” Miguel roughly breathes out, his large hands rest on your hips—the other vibrator still in his hand, “Do you want to come with me then?”
You smile. “I’d love too.”
;;
“I understand, Mr. O’Hara, but with the recent hit the industry took…”
You gripped onto Miguel’s hand as your vision went blurry, “Mig…Miguel,” you bite your tongue hoping the suppress the moan that nearly came out.
The coworker who was talking turned his head to you, “Oh, Mrs. O’Hara? Is everything alright?”
Your grip strengthened around your boyfriend’ hand as sweat started to trail down your throat and your pussy clenched around the toy.
“Mrs. O’Hara?”
You forced yourself to look up, to look at the coworker, and to speak. Your lips, both of them, trembled as they opened—a moan sitting prettily on the tip of your tongue.
“A—I—“
Your boyfriend was so sweet, so loving, and so attentive. He knew you were close, you just needed a little more, and he was more than happy to help you out. Especially when you were so obviously struggling to get any noise out of your mouth.
He played with the remote in his other hand under the table, pretending to look at you with worry in his eyes as a beautiful moan rips out your throat.
You pray that when you get up there won’t be a puddle of cum.
“Uh—uhm—Mrs. O’Hara—?”
“Pardon me,” Miguel heroically interrupts as his holds your close to his, “My wife isn’t feeling well, could you excuse us for a bit?”
“Oh—of course, yes.” The coworkers all move out of the way, making a clear path for the both of you to go through.
You cling onto him as you try to stand up, your legs tremble as you take your first step. “Miguel,” you breath out, “Ca—can we go, ah, home?”
You close your eyes, your over sensitive pussy is able to track every movement the little toy inside of you makes—it makes you pull away from Miguel, you’re body acting as it would whenever he’s in you.
Your heart breaks a little when you hear him laugh—and your legs nearly give out as the toy goes up to its next setting, “Miguel!”
He ignores your cry, maneuvering you around the tables until the bathrooms are right in front of you. He hums a tune, almost mockingly, as he opens the family bathroom, “Come on tesoro, get in.”
An almost heart wrenching whine leaves your throat as Miguel locks the door. You fall to the floor and your mouth opens, a silent moan comes out as you cum on your drenched underwear. Your back arches as the toy never stops it’s movement.
Miguel tsks as he kneels next to you, “What’s wrong cariño,” he feigns innocence, “Doesn’t it feel good?”
“Can’t,” you choke out, “Ca—can’t!”
He holds the remote out, purposely putting in the your line of sight. He twirls it around his fingers, “You said you wanted to go home? Thought you wanted to come with me, tesoro.”
You grind your pussy against the cold floor as you feel your body start to heat up.
“Miguel,” you cry, “Why are you being mean?”
You lean into his touch as his hand cups your cheek to make you look at him. He looks at you, eyes soft as he rubs your cheek.
You turn your head to press a kiss on his palm, stupidly taking this act from him as kindness.
Your head drops immediately, tighs pressing against each other as the vibrations in your pussy get more intense.
“F—fuck.”
Miguel presses a kiss to the top of your head as he watches you crumble underneath him, “Sorry tesoro, but you’re just so pretty like this.”
5K notes · View notes
kookslastbutton · 5 months
Text
Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | ch. i
Tumblr media
✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.
Tumblr media
pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, slight actor!taehyung x ceo!reader
genre/AU: angst, smut, loverstoexesto ?, unrequited love
word count: 3,328
Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, mention of gossip columns and unequal treatment of how oc is portrayed post-divorce, hint of differences between men and women in the business world, oc struggling to be professional, both care about each other and are not toxic but oc fell in love, oc has the need to groom him a little out of habit, talks about Bam, feat, Namjoon and Taehyung, and sexual content
sexual warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, desk s*x, d*rty talk, oc is on bc, handjob, swearing, making out, neck kisses, clothed s*x, impulsive s*x, light praising, growling, some minor petnames (baby, Kook), mention of threesome, recalling of past sexual events
playing: Unkiss Me
a/n: uh…this one has been in my drafts and idk its kinda angsty but I decided I will share it. Enjoy! 🥰
series masterlist | next >>
Tumblr media
From the moment he stepped into your office, Jungkook could tell every ounce of color was drained from your face. All except for your puffy red eyes that is, which he knows you've been rubbing fervently to keep your tears from rolling down your cheeks.
He doesn't blame you for it though–you're his ex-wife.
Recent ex-wife that is.
For three years the two of you masqueraded as the perfect power couple; appearing completely in love to the public eye in hopes of forming an unshakable business partnership (transaction more like). You attended charity balls together, collaborated on several work projects, and attended countless corporate functions to establish both your presence in your respective industries.
That's right, you and Jungkook were in an arranged marriage and it would have flourished into a classic love story if it wasn't for one obvious detail–you're the only one that fell in love.
Despite all the times he's called you "stunning" when you dolled up for formal events or that you "feel so good" during late-night sex, Jungkook never truly loved you. He cared about you, did his best not to intentionally hurt you, and even tried loving you back; thinking he could fall for you with time.
But the most he could ever see you as is a friend, a beautiful friend, though a friend nonetheless. He knows how much it pains you, especially after you've held out hope that he'll want you the same way someday. This one embarrasses you the most which he wishes it wouldn't.
Well, Jungkook doesn't want to trap either of you in a loveless marriage any longer. So even if it means being the center of gossip columns for a while, he's giving you a divorce so you can find the right person to share your love with.
After all, you deserve it; you both do.
Today's day one of looking at one another as exes and it's bittersweet, to say the least. The only factor that would make this worse is if children were in the equation, but there aren't any.
"Thanks for letting me swing by __," he speaks first, doing his best to conjure up a genuine smile. The black floral button-up he's wearing suits him well and his smooth chest peaking out near the collar is far too tempting, yet you know better than to let your eyes linger.
"Of course," you answer and grab a small box from behind your desk. "These are 100% yours so I wouldn't keep them from you." Jungkook takes the box of belongings from your hands with slight hesitation. You're keeping a brave front for the sake of civility and professionalism.
He doesn't blame you for that either.
As a CEO of a large multinational corporation himself, Jungkook's no stranger to the age-old philosophy that that office is no place to let your personal woes get out of hand; you have a team to lead and a reputation to uphold. The latter is proving to be harder for you than him, however, being that the media is portraying you as some kind of she-devil, spinster, or worse of all—a cheater.
Jungkook plans to personally make sure those articles get removed from the public eye before the end of the week. (Not that he'll tell you though.)
"I still could have dropped by the house to pick these up if it'd been easier. I feel bad for interrupting your work day over a couple of old books, records, and dog toys." He watches you nod silently as he vocalizes the inconvenience of it all; he really doesn't have to but he does it anyway.
"No, it's alright. You haven't been to the house since you moved out, so I thought it'd be better if we met here instead." You pause to check the time. "If there's anything you think of that you might've forgotten later, just let me know. In the meantime, I have a meeting in twenty so..."
"He misses you."
"I'm sorry?"
"Bam, I mean." Jungkook throws the box under an arm and pulls out his phone. He scrolls through his camera gallery until he gets to one particular photo of a red and tan Doberman. "He hates the new place and all he does is sulk by the door."
Your heart's already struggling to settle down from the painful reality that the man you love is leaving you, let alone being reminded of another forced separation. Bam's the closest thing to a baby that either of you ever had and he was one of the few things that bonded you and your now ex-husband together.
Being Jungkook's dog, however, he couldn't stay with you. That means no more visiting the dog park, sneaking treats behind Jungkook's back, and snuggling together in the king-size bed after a stressful day.
"I'm sure he just wants his favorite chew toy that's been held hostage at the house," you joke lightly, thinking it simpler to spin the topic. It's similar to what Jungkook does when he uses flowery language to soften the cold hard truth of your divorce; that he doesn't love you and he can't ever. "Give Bam a lot of attention for me. I miss him too."
"Of cour—shit!" When Jungkook moves to slip his phone back into his pocket he loses his balance, causing the box with his belongings to spill out on your office floor. Naturally, you kneel down to help him clean up the mess. It's not until your fingers reach for the same item and come into contact with each other that you quickly retract your hand. "Sorry, did I shock you?" He asks gently and tosses the last item into the box before standing up.
"No, you didn't." You rise to your feet as well, until you're face to face with him. This time it's closer than before. His hooded eyes stare straight into yours and you can't believe it takes being inches from his face to notice how bloodshot his eyes are. "You look exhausted. You should go home and rest Kook." The petname is out before your brain tells you to stop.
Jungkook's eyes widen, the corner of his lip subtly quirking up for the first time since the start of the conversation. "Don't worry about me __. I probably get more breaks than you do. But thanks." He briefly glances at the ticking Snoopy clock behind you, a Christmas gift he gave you as a joke last year. "You still have that?"
You look over your shoulder at the small, Snoopy-shaped digital clock on your desk. Ten minutes until your next meeting. "It's cute and it makes for a great conversation starter with clients so I guess so. If you want me to give it ba—"
"Keep it," he interrupts. "Please, it was a gift and I'd like you to have it if you enjoy it." Jungkook gnaws on his lip before continuing. "Speaking of clients and business partners, I should make myself scarce now shouldn't I?"
"Yes. I do have that meeting soon." But once he leaves, neither of you is sure when you'll see the other again aside from the odd charity event. The Annual Winter Gala in December is one that particularly comes to mind.
Most high-ranking executives like yourselves attend the function to keep up appearances and to network with other professionals. Last year, you and Jungkook were the center of attention however now that you're divorced, you fear you'll be avoided like the plague—they always preferred Jungkook over you anyway.
"You're forming a new partnership with that actor, right? Kim Taehyung? I read an inkling about it online yesterday." He also read his whole biography too. The man is equally handsome as he is altruistic and kind.
"Nothing's signed and sealed yet. I'm sure you've heard that he's gotten dozens of other offers on the table. To be honest, I'm surprised you haven't nabbed him yet."
"Yeah, we don't need...wait sorry, let me rephrase that. We aren't ready for a new partner or merger yet."
You can read between the lines despite Jungkook's correction. His company is thriving more than yours in every way, so he doesn't need the help of a third-party endorser...like you. Well, you're not doing too shabby yourself and this isn't simply about fame and fortune you want to argue.
The head poking through your door stops you from following through on that last line.
"Mrs. Jeon—shit." Your secretary Kim Namjoon screws his eyes shut at his drastic misstep. "Ms. __, Kim Taehyung called and said he'll be a bit late due to unexpected delays during his filming today. He apologizes profusely but is on his way over now. Sajangnim," he bows at Jungkook respectively.
"That's fine, Namjoon, thank you. You can send him in whenever he gets here. Mr. Jeon was just about to leave and I had the rest of my day cleared."
"Of course. I'll let him know to come in." Your secretary nods and shuts the door. Jungkook shifts between his feet once Namjoon is out of sight, a habit he's picked up that tells you he has more to say.
"Was there anything else, Mr. Jeon?" You shuffle a few files on your desk, prepping for your meeting with Taehyung. At this point, you're not even looking at Jungkook.
"Mr. Jeon? I think I prefer when you call me Kook more," he mutters, allowing his line of sight to catch a glimpse of your lips. "Can I...kiss you? Before I go."
The question knocks the wind out of your lungs and you instantly lift your head up toward him. "Kiss me?" You gulp slowly, then shake your head. "No, I'd rather we not. Goodbye kisses aren't really my thing." You couldn't be a bigger liar, evident from the sudden churning in your gut. Having Jungkook's lips on yours was the best and worst moments of your entire relationship but you have to fight yourself....your innate desires that tell you to say yes.
"Okay, I understand. What about a hug?"
"Jungkook..."
"I'm sorry, I'm pushing. Thanks again for my stuff." He gestures at the box under his arm. "I hope your meeting with Kim Taehyung goes well. Maybe I'll see you both at the next Winter Gala." He makes a beeline for the door.
"Wait!"
Jungkook stills in his tracks as he watches you stride in front of him. He's unsure what you stopped him for until your hands reach out towards his shirt collar, smoothing the delicate material down. A light smile plays on his face as you do this, though he says nothing aside from a simple 'thanks'.
"It was bothering me the whole time." You finish fixing his collar and peer up into his Bambi eyes. Out of all the potential suitors, you wish Jeon Jungkook didn't become your husband. It's not like you got to keep him or anything.
Jungkook once again flickers his gaze toward your barely parted lips. And this time, you do the same for him. Before either of you have time to back out you lean forward and kiss him.
It's a hard kiss too. Painful but so inviting that neither of you pulls away.
With his free hand, Jungkook snakes a hand around your waist to hug you close. Having his fingers pressed against the small of your back is so familiar and all you can do is deepen the kiss.
You're obviously not the only one that gets a sense of pleasure from this because, in a matter of seconds, the box from under Jungkook's arm falls to the ground. He then places his second hand on the side of your neck and jawline which you lean into, exposing the other side of your neck.
"Jungkook," you gasp when his lips attach themself to the soft skin, sucking lightly. His teeth come out and nip too. "Wait, we can't do this, we shouldn't. Taehyung, he'll be here soon."
"That would have sounded so convincing if you didn't just moan the words, baby." He walks you backward until you're forced to sit atop your mahogany desk.
"Don't call me that." You allow him to push up your pencil skirt and spread your thighs until your panties are the only material he sees. You decided to go with black lace today, his favorite now that you think about it.
"Did you—"
"No, they weren't for you."
A brief growl leaves the man's rose-tinted lips. "In that case, we don't need them." He places both hands on your hips and brings you into another kiss, messier than before. His tongue shoves between the seam of your lips to lick every crevasse he can. He hasn't kissed you like this for months and to be brutally honest, he's missed it as much as you.
Jungkook hasn't been with anyone else since marrying you either, which means he's completely adjusted to your body, your preferences, and what turns you on. The same applies to you so while he's busy shoving his tongue down your throat, you palm his half-harden bulge through his trousers.
"Mm," he groans and bucks his hips into your hand. You smile at how well you've managed to draw a response from him. With a little burst of confidence, you hastily move to unbuckle his pants. "What are you doing?" He mumbles between kisses.
You decide not to answer, preferring to reach inside his trousers to take his length out. You make sure to pump it a few times until he's fully hard. Jungkook has a gorgeous dick, and that takes a lot for you to admit.
"Fuck, that's it." He says with gritted teeth, now watching your hand as it moves up and down his cock. "Get me how you want me."
"We don't have much time." You slide your panties down your legs and spread your thighs wide apart, which makes Jungkook's eyes dilate about 10 meters. "Fuck me, please." One last time. Make love to me one last time.
"Are you sure? I don't have a condom."
"It's okay, I'm on birth control. As long as you're still clean then its fine."
"I am. I got tested recently. But are you sure you want this?"
You glance at his pulsating length, tip leaking with pre-cum, and swallow hard. "Hurry."
"Fuck, okay." Jungkook wastes not another second and guides you flat on your back, his hands resting on either side of your body. The coolness of your desk has you shiver slightly. He then urges you to raise your legs until they can wrap loosely around his slim waist. And as if second nature, you link your arms around his neck as he eases him into you. He's able to bottom out without much effort thanks to how wet you've become.
"Oh god." Your back arches off the surface of your desk as Jungkook thrusts into you. They're only practice thrusts at first to get you re-adjusted to his size, yet the pleasure zipping down your spine already has your eyes rolling up.
You shouldn't be doing this at all. Your conscious whispers to again to which you blindly dismiss. You'll enjoy it now and tomorrow, start a new—another lie you tell yourself.
"Fuckfuckfuck, you're so wonderful for me," he chants while pushing his cock in and out of you, the speed of his movements picking up to an insane rate. Jungkook never had an issue with quickies so he's likely in his element now. "You know what this reminds me of?" He cocks a smirk and kisses down your neck.
"Hm?"
"That time when we were abroad for a weekend conference. Remember when we stopped at my second office to pick up some files? You were so horny that day that you pushed me into my chair and demanded that I let you ride me. It took the wind right out of my sails to see you like that, so confident and in control." He prys apart the top button of your blouse until he can slide the material down your shoulders. He doesn't take it off completely, favoring the chance to place kisses on your newly exposed area instead.
"I was beyond stressed that day. It was the first time I had to speak at that conference and you looked so good with your freshly slicked back hair. I couldn't stop myself—oh fuck! Right there Kook, don't slow down. Please." Jungkook grunts at the use of his petname and fucks you rougher, sweat forming around his forehead as his dark hair dangles messily over his eyes.
You manage to sneak a glance at the time on your Snoopy clock between thrusts. "Shit, I need to come soon, or Kim Taehyung's never going to agree to do business with me." The man laughs and buries his head on your shoulder.
"You never know, he could be really into threesomes."
"Fuck! Don't joke about that." You claw at his back and surprise both of you with the unexpected clenching of your pussy.
"You're right, I take it back," he groans and continues to snap his hips. "Looks like he's not the one who wants a threesome after all, considering your body's response to the suggestion. You wanna ask him if he walks in?" He whispers in your ear and you're embarrassed that your cheeks burn at the thought.
Of course, Kim Taehyung was sexy and you've rehearsed to yourself dozens of times not to let yourself get any crazy ideas about him. Still, one unrequited love is enough for you; Taehyung wouldn't want a divorcee. You shake the train of thought before it has time to go any further. "Make me come, Kook. Need you to finish too. It's not just Taehyung who could walk in at any second."
Jungkook grunts and continues to thrust into you, bouncing you up and down his thick length as the desk shakes underneath you. He feels you getting closer and closer by the sporadic clenching of your walls squeezing him. A big part of him doesn't want this to end but it has to....he doesn't love you. He only wants to make you feel good before he has to say goodbye. Both of you come just before Namjoon calls your office phone, giving you a heads-up that Taehyung's about to enter your office.
Jungkook shoves his pants back on while you button up your blouse and fold over your skirt. You decided to shove your underwear in your bag with the lack of time. No one has any business digging in there anyway.
"How do I look?" You turn around to get a quick once-over from Jungkook but he's already out the door. Now the person standing in front of you is Kim Taehyung who has nothing but the most genuine smile.
"You look lovely as always Ms. __. I'm so sorry I'm late by the way. I feel terrible about it so I brought you these." Taehyung whips out a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. "Hope you don't mind that I did a little research on you ahead of time. I found out these have a special place in your heart."
You smile and accept the bouquet with thanks. As you set them on your desk, a messages comes through your phone. You manage to give a quick look.
Unknown Number: Sorry I had to duck so fast! I know it looked rude but Taehyung was already opening the door and you were dressed so I thought it'd be better if I left. Hope you're meeting goes well! And thanks for everything today ;) if you need anything, you have my number.
You flip your phone over and invite Taehyung to have a seat. Business is business, and you have to carry on even if your heart has completely sunk to the ground. Kim Taehyung is sweet anyway, so you'll enjoy his company.
Too bad you don't realize how much he enjoys yours as well.
Tumblr media
a/n: so, yeah... there's a potential for our Jk to actually love oc and not realize it but either way he does care about her (despite the impulsive sex). And yes, taehyung likes oc... it's like a double unrequited love 😔 okay bye lmk what you think, thank you! 😘
Also, lmk what you think about jk in this poll!
masterlist
no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
5K notes · View notes
ghostedcas · 6 months
Note
imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose
okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."
thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH
simon 'ghost' riley x reader
wc: 563
warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)
a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3
a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?
simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.
so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.
looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.
"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.
"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.
"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.
"i'm taken."
"i know." you replied with a short laugh.
"you should be touching me like that then."
it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.
"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"
"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.
"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.
sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.
"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.
you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.
"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.
"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.
simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."
you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.
you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.
8K notes · View notes