#... but damn does it feel like I mostly annoy them

[leviathanxprincess]

Introducing the Gehenna Devils to Your Plushies - Pt. 1

The Gehenna Devils deciding to show up to your room for sex end up getting met with you deciding to sit down and show them all your plushies!!

I've decided to split Gehenna into two parts for my mental sake.

Notes: mildly sexual content, nothing to crazy. Gender neutral reader! This part includes: Sitri, Amy, Paimon, & Leraye!

Satan and the other Kings found here !

Sitri

Honestly, he'll hold back on sex for as long as you wanna talk for.

He listens intently, hanging on to your every word. He's taking notes in his head, jotting down names, any lore you have if you do.

Your the most important person to him after, so every word you have to say is equally important!

He adores being one of the only ones allowed to see this side of you as well.

He has such a soft, endeared smile on his face as he listens to you talk.

Even if you spend hours talking he doesn't mind! He'll let it happen.

Of course, the fact he was here for sex doesn't change, that's always in the back of his head.

And by the time you're done talking he's practically smothering you in affection anyway because of how adorable you are! So of course that leads exactly how you think it will.

And if you just happen to get flustered by said affection, well then that's even better for him! Your heart rate does increase then, after all.

Amy

He's gonna be kinda blunt about it I think. You start talking about your plushies and he's just like "Okay but I'm here to fuck."

You can give it to him right away, or you could make him wait and keep talking! It's more fun if you go that route.

Tell him he's being too impatient and he can wait a bit!! And then just go on and on and on until he can't take it anymore.

He's annoyed, but most importantly, it's kinda turning him on more.

On the other hand, he also can't deny you're cute like this.

I feel like he's the type to get cuteness aggression.

He's gonna try and start grabbing your cheeks and biting you, once again you could give in. But you could also swat him off and force him to wait longer.

If you really wanna make it worse on him through a little comment his away about how he's acting, a little degrading if you want.

Honestly with the amount of teasing you do to him and how long you make him wait, he's not retaining a single damn piece of information about those plushies.

Be careful your next steps, if you don't stay in control of the situation once you actually allow him to fuck you (which won't be hard if you're trying to dom him), he will take it back. And he's not gonna be the nicest given how frustrated he is lol.

Paimon

Oh my goodness, you're the cutest thing to him right now!!!

He's practically covering you in kisses, all giggly watching you talk!

He's bound to have a few plushies himself, he'll be sure to show them to you later.

Right now though, he's letting you do your thing. You won't succeed on telling him about every single one in one setting, but he'll listen to however many he can.

Unfortunately you won't be able to talk the more he gets worked up.

He's just thinks you're so adorable!! Eventually he's gonna snap and just start squishing and pinching your cheeks!!!

He can't control himself! He's throwing so many compliments at you and not letting go of your face and giving you kisses!!! Your head is gonna start spinning at the rate he's going.

Of course this leads back to the original reason he was here.

I wouldn't be surprised he gets cuteness aggression too lol.

So prepare for that!!! If your covered in bites after don't even be surprised.

Leraye

Hey, he has a lot of plushies too!!!

Well, they're all headless. But it's fine!!!! He cherishes them a lot still!!! Mostly because Satan was involved in the being headless part but still !!!

I think he'd be so interested in listening he'd completely forget the original reason he was here for.

I don't know how much he remembers, but he at least knows their names!!!

Honestly I think he just likes hearing you talk. Doesn't matter about what! If you're happy than he's content!!!

By the time you're done, he's just wrapping you in his arms and giving you kisses!

Like I said, he kinda forgot about sex.

It'll come back to him at some point during him kissing and cuddling you. Probably.

Definitely will if it someone starts thundering at least?

Worst comes to worst just ask him what he was here for then you're back on track! And well, maybe turn your plushies around so they won't have to witness what follows.

[dutybcrne]

Thunderings are happening, my brain has funneled off into hcs mode

[avallands-basement]

look i love making sae be the one who's so in love and showering hajun with so much love and affection but it's much more fun to think that HE fell harder than her

[sableeira]

best day of my fucking life ❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️

[toomuchdickfort]

Mini vent rant

[medicinemane]

Still no idea why my cats like being around me

[orchidyoonkook]

PG | KTH

Title: PG 

Pairing: Older Brother's Best Friend!Kim Taehyung x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Touches of Fluff

Summary: You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually.

Warnings: nicknames! a disgusting amount, language, assholes being assholes but being put in their place, brotherly love, sibling antics, tae is a swimmer and knows judo, also a Dan is--for the lack of better phrasing--a high belt level in judo. think of it like a black belt, OC cant keep it in her pants and neither can tae, mutual pining, lots of great gatsby references because I'm tyring to be that bitch (I am joking), tae has tats, OC's brother is an overprotective idiot but we love him anyway, slight physical abuse not by tae or reader or fourteen--basically someone grips an arm too harshly, some panic but no panic attack,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 11,521

Release Date: September 15, 2024. 12:00PM

A/N 1: The biggest most huge thank you to @violetsiren90 for being my sounding board, tech support and beta. She's a real one and y'all are sleeping on her work if you haven't alread read it. Go check her out!

A/N 2: My access to the adobe suite was aha....revoked. So! this is my first time making a banner and divider without photoshop. Therfore, the banner and the divider are a bit different than what I'm used to having XD. Tumblr is also absolutely destroying the qualty which is sooooo great. It looks wonky and blurry to me on desktop but fine on mobile so it is what it is. If i ever get adobe access again I'll probably come back and update the graphics.

Explicit Warnings: *ahem* nicknames, teasing, kissing, biting, marking (several ways), hand and finger kink (duh), voice kinklet (duhhhh), hair 'pulling' (m rec), semi public if you squint, hella foreplay, tae has a big dick, penetrative sex, oral (m+f rec), fingering, handjob?, multiple orgasms, body worship, switch like activities but mostly dominant tae, posessiveness, confessions, reader takes what she wants but so does tae, exhibitionism if you squint, slight cum play/eating, implied squirting, choking, cream pie. Pretty sure thats all of them. i never reailse how many i need to put until the list is done and wow *chuckes while blushing*

“Oi, can you fucking not? My sister’s right fucking there,” your older brother, Fourteen—nicknamed for his forever mental age—ridiculously and unneededly overprotective as always, says.

It is especially unneeded and ridiculous as he’s saying it to Tae, when all he’s doing is taking off his shirt to go for a swim in your pool. Like he’s been doing since you were tweens.

Well.

Since you were a tween and they were nearing the legal drinking age. But that’s besides the point. 

Best friend to your knuckle head of an older brother, you honest to god have no idea how they became friends. 

Taehyung is poetry and jazz and button up cotton shirts. Old book smell and expensive cologne, ringed fingers and whiskey, neat. The kind of vibe someone would get from being raised by a very successful lawyer for a father and a top ranking university professor of literature for a mother, while Fourteen is… your older brother. 

Maybe it’s a younger sister thing to not understand how her older brother has any friends. Considering you grew up with him, know all of his weird and gross habits, have a lovely dash of sibling bullying thrown in that you two share equally, and more. Yet, by some miracle, he and Tae manage to balance one another out. 

Tae—fucking somehow—makes your brother into a more presentable human being. He showers more than twice a week and wears deodorant every day now—even puts the seat down after peeing, a habit you’ve been screaming at him to stop doing since you could use the toilet. While Fourteen gives Tae a rougher edge he previously never seemed to be able to grasp, despite trying his best too. 

For example, the several delicate tattoos he now has all over his body, your favourite of which is an old timey record player on the inside of his forearm. They were something he’d been wanting to do for years, but only finally bit the bullet on and did once Fourteen took him when they were twenty two. 

Since then the collection’s only grown, much to your inner glee and mental dismay. 

And don’t even get you started on the delicate, thin rimmed glasses he occasionally wears—golden and the perfect shape for his face—or the ear piercings that just really fucking cement the tortured poet look that makes your heart clench every. single. time. you look at him. 

Similarly to what it’s doing right now, though no one ever knows due to your truly oscar worthy talent for acting completely oblivious to the beautiful shirtless man about to dive in. Call it over a decades worth of practice, and the fact that it’s also nothing you hadn’t gloriously taken in all teenagehood long. 

Every time you could get it. 

Which was a lot because Tae was on the high school swim team. 

For four years. 

And then the university swim team.

For another four. 

Teenage you was a lucky bitch. Now you’re only blessed with this sight when he comes over to swim laps or attempt to drown Fourteen. Which, admittedly, was still often. But not nearly as much as back then. 

The sight in question however, is curled black hair that frames eyes so warm you swear the sun’s relocated to his irises, and a jawline that makes the Statue of David’s pathetic in comparison. It’s fingers that make your mouth water from the way they flip book pages and thighs that make you think thoughts and things you never thought you would. 

It’s the scribbled text: ‘To err is human; to forgive, divine’ tattooed across his ribs, and a lean torso, muscled but not outrageously so. Just enough to have you forcing yourself not to stare at the delicate lines of his abdomen every time he comes over for a swim. 

Thank god for sunglasses. 

“Nah, I’m sure PG can handle it, Dumbass. I’ve only been using your pool every summer for the last 15 years give or take,” Tae says with a quirked brow and a half smile directed at you. 

Behind your sunnies, you heat up a touch, and internally sigh. Have you mentioned his smile yet? 

Because oh yeah, his fucking smile. 

Tae’s a nickname kind of person, hence why even you call your brother ‘Fourteen’. Taehyung’s called him Fourteen for so long now that calling your brother by his birth name just feels wrong. 

This being said, PG is Tae’s nickname for you. 

It stands for the TV rating ‘Parental Guidance’ because you’re younger by enough that when you were still under the age of 18, they—see: your brother and Tae because they’ve been joined at the hip since they met—were usually assigned babysitting duty. Very much the ‘take your sister with you’ sibling, but they never complained. Not once.

As much as you and Fourteen bully one another, you’re actually quite close when you aren’t verbally sparring—which is where his annoying overprotectiveness comes in. Even when it comes to Taehyung. 

“Yeah, Dumbass,” you copy, earning a smirk from Tae as he leans down to take his shoes off. “It’s just Tae.”

“It’s not about that YN, it’s about respect. You’re my little sister, and Fuckass over here,” you brother jabs a thumb in Tae’s direction, which earns you a second hidden smirk from the Fuckass in question, “Still doesn’t know how to respect that fact even after a decade and a half apparently.”

You shrug as Fourteen finishes his point and narrows his eyes at his best friend. Tae gives him a shit eating grin that screams ‘what are you going to do about it’ and your brother gives him a two fingered salute before shaking his head and taking off his own shirt. 

You take that as your cue to put your head back down because you don’t need to see that. 

Currently in very comfortable linen shorts and tank, you’re sitting on a padded pool lounger, rereading The Great Gatsby for the hundredth time. It’s one of the classics that never gets old for you, has the benefit of being a shorter read—therefore perfect for the poolside—and happens to be the copy Tae’d gotten you for Christmas a couple years ago. Pure coincidence, you tell yourself. Nothing more. 

With the beautiful addition of your very darkly glassed sunnies, it also makes the perfect decoy as you watch Tae over the top of the open book without risk of being caught. 

You firmly follow the rule of a little looking can’t hurt. 

You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up—see: current shirt stripping debacle. It’s not the first nor the last time he’ll do something like it, and you’re pretty sure you and Tae have an unspoken agreement at this point to push as many of Fourteen’s buttons as you can together, just to see how far he’ll let it go before freaking out.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually. 

Despite the flames that rage and roar on in your heart. 

Despite the green light on the dock across the way tackling your brother under the water. 

You hold on. And only in these little moments of in between do you allow yourself to look. Pockets of time where a peek won’t be seen or recorded, and a moment of self indulgence keeps your sanity from trying to escape its tightly locked box.

You look and look and look until the green light is covered in fog once more, and the lid of the box seals tight.  

Another day, another glorious abuse of best friend privileges, Taehyung thinks to himself as he continues his butterfly down the imaginary lanes in Fourteen’s pool. 

He tries to come over at least three times a week. Four or five if he’s able, the more he’s over the higher chance he has to see you, not just Fourteen. But he’s rarely able to these days. 

Though the wind appears to have shifted in his favour today. You’re sitting on the lounge chairs again, reading away in the afternoon sun. 

It’s his favourite view. And it’s sweetened by the fact that you’re in the shorts he loves and reading a book he gave you. Something he’s done since before he could remember, really. 

Christmases and birthdays, he’s always given you a book. Usually a classic, sometimes something else. If it caught his eye or reminded him of you, he’d grab it and save it until the next Christmas or the next birthday, whichever came first. And you’ve always loved them, so he’s never stopped. 

They’re gifts that seem harmless to Fourteen, and for the most part they are. But these last few have been…different. Had deeper thought put into them. The titles, the story lines, the prose. He swears you notice it, but maybe that’s just his own wishful thinking. 

And he sure as fuck can’t be doing any of that. 

This cold water isn’t doing its job well enough.

Finishing his set, Tae swims over to rest before starting on his front stroke. Forearms hold him up on the edge of the pool, his chin balancing on stacked knuckles while his breath catches. 

He also uses this little break as an excuse to talk to you. He only ever freely can when Fourteen isn’t around, and right now his best friend is inside grabbing drinks, towels and probably relieving himself–which, knowing Fourteen—could take anywhere from thirty seconds to thirty minutes. So he has to take advantage of every moment he gets. 

“Got any new recommendations for me PG?” 

Books are an easy starting point when it comes to you. Fourteen may be a graphic novel at best kind of guy, but your brain can’t seem to inhale enough books to satiate it. And just the thought makes his temples rush with heat. 

He should dunk his head again.

You lower your Fitzgerald by one inch and raise an eyebrow to counter it. Just like your brother, you’re always one to give him a hard time. Make him work for every millimeter of ground conquered. And he’s pretty sure you have a smirk hiding behind the pages, though he can’t be certain due to the sunglasses hiding your eyes. 

“Maybe,” you say. “What do I get in return?” 

Answering that question about fifty different ways in his head, Tae decides none can be said out loud. He seriously needs to fucking reel himself in. Fourteen could return at any moment and the last thing Tae needs to have is a problem between his legs because you never make it easy for him. 

But rather than listening to his very rational thoughts and very logical brain, he instead decides to say fuck it, and croons in the voice that used to fluster you as a teenager. 

“What do you want in return, PG?” Hoping to soften you up, even the playing field a bit. 

And it works like a charm. 

Your body releases its tension on an exhale, your page is marked, book set to the side, and your legs extend and stretch before crossing at the ankle. It makes him wonder if your little girlhood crush on him still exists somewhere in the back of your mind. Probably not.

Scratch that. 

Definitely not.  

“What if I wanted a new nickname?” you ask.

Both his eyebrows raise in surprise. “What’s wrong with PG?”

“It makes me feel like I’m eleven,” you explain. And then hit him with a dose of his own medicine as you croon, “I’m not eleven anymore, Tae.”

No you sure as hell are not. And it kills him in a way that has him wanting to die over and over again. 

He could consider it. But he doesn’t think he’ll change it, not when PG can stand for so many wonderful things. Things you would never think he’d let it when addressing you. Things that would have Fourteen trying for drowning attempt number two thousand four hundred sixty three, and succeeding. 

“I’ll think about it—Fair?”

You ponder before agreeing. “Fair.”

“Now about those recommendations…” He reminds you, and that’s all it takes to get you going.

Fourteen comes out about ten minutes later, but by then, Tae has a new list of books to grab from the store, two laps under him with eight more to go, and you’re reading again—one bare leg bent at the knee he’s trying very hard to ignore when he comes up for air. 

By the time he’s due for another breather, you’re talking to your brother about plans for the weekend. 

“I’m going out early on Friday for Rei’s birthday, remember? And I’ll probably crash at her place after,” you say. 

Fourteen is sitting on the second lounge chair across from you, most likely playing a game on his phone if Tae had to guess. But at your reminder, your brother looks up.

“Fuck that’s right. Okay so no dinner then, I’ll just grab something on my way in.”

“Sounds good. What about tonight?”

Fourteen gives it about two seconds of thought. “How about Don’s?”

Your face lights up at the suggestion. “Fuck yes! I’ve been craving their milkshakes for like a week. Hey Tae!” you call to him. “Don’s for dinner? There’s a chocolate shake with your name on it if you’re down.”

Tae pushes himself out of the water onto the pavement and doesn’t miss the sly once over you give him while Fourteen chucks a towel at his chest, covering your eyes with his other hand. 

He catches the projectile before it can knock him back into the pool, and uses it to dry his hair.

“Dude! Seriously? Go find a fucking shirt or something, no one wants to see that.”

You swat your sibling’s hand away and give him a look that screams ‘grow up’ while Tae drapes the towel over her shoulders, a hand gripping at each end. 

“I’m only down if Dumbass is paying,” he says, smirking at your brother. 

“—What—”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” you agree, holding out your hand in his direction. 

“—Hey wait a seco—”

Tae grabs and shakes just to watch the steam flee Fourteen’s ears at the contact. He meets your eyes conspiratorially, and you both nod before rushing Fourteen. 

“—You fuckers!—” is all he gets out before Tae and you are grabbing an arm and a leg each and throwing Fourteen’s fully clothed ass in the pool. 

He curses the both of you out several times as he treads, drenched and dripping, up the stairs and out of the water. Tae throws him the towel. 

“You’ll pay for that, Asshole,” Fourteen tells Tae, and Tae grins. 

“Oh, I’m counting on it. Worth it though.”

“And you!” Fourteen says, eyes on you. “What the fuck dude? The betrayal to your darling, one and only brother hurts. I’m wounded,” he lays it on thick, walking up directly beside you. 

You're a hairsbreadth too late to realize when he shakes his hair out directly over top of you and you shriek, pulling your knees up, protecting the book under your shirt and behind your legs at all costs.

“Fourteen! The book! I will kill you if you damage it!”

Fourteen chuckles. “Payback’s a bitch Little Sister.”

You sneer at him, checking your prized possession for injury. Not a scratch. 

“And sopping wet is your colour, Jackass.”

“Big words for someone who can just as easily be thrown in the pool.”

You pause. Eyeing him directly. 

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

Your brother looks at Tae with an evil plot in his eyes and you screech as they both nod once. You drop your book behind you as they yank you up by your arms and fling you into the pool, too much momentum from them and not enough resistance from you leaving you matching your darling, one and only brother.

As you come up for air, two colossal splashes ricochet from the left and right. Tae and Fourteen having both cannonballed in on either side of you. You choke on splattered water for a second before you’re attacking them with splashes, merciless in your pursuit for revenge. 

“You both suck!” you half giggle half yell. 

“Yet you love us anyway!” your brother falsely—correctly—claims. 

You roll your eyes before trudging out, heavier and dripping with your soaked clothes.

And it's not until weekend plans are cast aside for current memories, Taehyung treating you all to dinner, and you treating everyone to milkshakes, that all is forgiven. 

It turns out Rei’s dad knows the manager of the most exclusive club in the city—Youth—and managed to call in a favour. So now you, her, and your other bestie, Lea, are all on the dancefloor to celebrate her birthday. 

Rei’s first request for the night besides not paying for a single drink, was to dress up in the hottest, sluttiest outfits the club's dress code would allow for. 

This, for you, meant a black, square necked, low cut, and thin strapped satin slip dress that hugged you in all the right ways, matching heels adored with ankle strap bows and a sultry makeup look. Lea chose a dark blue shimmery number with a high leg split, vibrant graphic eyeliner, and wedges, while the birthday girl found the skimpiest forest green mini dress you’ve ever seen paired with heels that wrap ribbons up her legs, and a subtle dewy look on her lids. 

She’s glowing, and needless to say, they both look hot and so do you. 

Rei’s second request for the night was to dance until you either collapsed or threw up, whichever came first. A goal you were all making a steady descent towards as the night progressed. 

That is, until your blood runs cold at the sight of your cheating ex boyfriend making his way through the crowd in a direct beeline towards you. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

You’re alone right now. Rei and Lea are taking a bathroom break. 

You insisted you’d be fine for ten minutes. It was just ten minutes. What could possibly go wrong in ten minutes?

But apparently god just loves to play jokes because here you are, three shots in, not emotionally prepared enough to be near him, let alone speak to him, and by yourself in this huge crowd of strangers while he’s making very good time on his route to you. 

Fuck! You do not want to deal with him right now or—fucking ever, actually. 

He’d cheated on you four times that he admitted too throughout your two and a half year relationship, all while faking being blindingly happy directly to your face. He’d lied to you and hurt you and made you wonder what you did wrong for him to do that to you. It took all of your third year of university and more therapy sessions than you care to admit to realize you were never the problem, and that he was a piece of shit. 

So, with the fifteen feet between you two quickly shrinking, you try your best to hide from him in the crowd, only to run directly into him when you duck past a fellow club goer. 

Son of a b—

“Heyyy Y/N, how’ve you been?” he says like he didn’t destroy your entire sense of self worth for a couple quick fucks. 

You want to down three more shots just to be able to puke all over him. Intentionally, you haven’t seen him in years and just the reek of his stale ass cologne has you close. 

“Fuck off Micah, don’t you have somewhere you need to be sticking your dick—like a garbage disposal?” You snark, doing your damndest to not let him get close. But the throng of bodies surrounding you have other ideas and you’re thrown against your least favourite person in existence.

Delusional as ever, Micah sleezes, “Doesn’t seem like you want me to leave just yet, Kitten,” and you shove him off you as hard as you can while bile rises at the horrible name you used to beg him not to call you. 

You need to get off the dance floor.

Now.

Before you can, Micah grabs your arm and he pulls you back into him, hard.

Tae watches you out of the corner of his eye, wondering why in the hell you came to this club, of all the clubs out there. 

The club he was at. Wearing that and truly testing the limits of his self control.

Music blasts through speakers that move the ocean on the dancefloor. Bodies sway like waves, some crashing into one another with teeth and tongues and passion, others pushing with the current, grinding and gripping and grabbing at anything they can get their hands on. The louder and faster the notes whirl over their swells, the harsher the storm rages on, people flowing in and out of the eye when needed. 

He’s sitting at a booth on a dais high enough to watch you in the hurricane whilst being out of eyesight, notably with one or two faces he barely recognizes enough to most likely be your friends. 

They appear to be currents. They drag you into deeper waters and you let them, helpless to their siren call. Leading you to your place amongst the sea life, and reveling in the way the melodies wash over you again and again with every song that plays. 

His eyes follow you as you dance, curious if Fourteen knows you’re here before flinging the thought out of his head as quickly as it entered. You’re grown now, don’t need protection anymore. A lesson he learned the day you returned from university after graduating. 

No longer his best friend's kid sister who they kept an eye on, but a woman who was and still is growing into herself beautifully. A woman who is steadfast, strong and more often than not, correct in her opinions. A woman who is well read and equally if not more so well spoken when she deigns to acknowledge his existence. A woman who knows how and when to turn all of that off in order to team up with him in a roast battle for the books against her brother. 

He thinks of that day as the beginning of his downfall. 

He can humbly admit that his intelligence, demeanor and education are things that have been nurtured into existence by his parents and carefully maintained by himself with practice and both mental and physical exercise. He takes care of himself, inside and out. Exercises regularly, eats well, has good hygiene. He’s level headed and patient. Respectful and responsible. Controlled and competent. 

He prides himself on these things. Actively works towards keeping them maintained. 

And yet. 

Somehow when it comes to you, he is little more than a single brain celled idiot. 

All of the things he uses to measure his self worth evaporate whenever you enter his field of vision and he becomes fucking ravenous. And all of his focus goes into controlling himself.

He’d never noticed before, never thought of you in the way he does now. How when your currents break from formation and head towards the bathrooms, their outgoing force creates a riptide that some fuckhead with a stupid haircut uses to sweep in and dance with you. 

But you push him away. 

He doesn’t get the memo, and the mophead tries his best to yank you out to sea again.

Magma flows through Taehyung's veins, thunder cracks in his ears and all he can think about is storming through the crowd to steal you from said fuckhead by claiming you for himself.

But he won’t. 

Can’t.

All because of his darling best friend. 

Fourteen doesn’t know about his feelings for you of course. And Tae rather likes being alive and in one piece, two things he most definitely would not remain should he act on any of these feelings.

You are wholly off limits, forbidden. A little too young, a little too immediately related to his best friend, a little too perfectly his fucking type. It kills him every time he can’t even look at you without Fourteen going into what he calls ‘asshole mode’. 

So you remain in his very close periphery. Untouchable to the fingertips he aches to caress you with as you dangle your existence in front of him. Your wicked tongue, your delicious intelligence, your sexy fucking legs—fuck!

He has to stop thinking about you like this.

But that only makes him want you more. 

It’s like the gods handcrafted you for him. Every piece, every detail of you immaculate, but he committed one to many sins in his past life, and now they’ve locked you away forever as punishment. 

You float across the night sky, stuck in a golden cell. Its fourteen bars hold you hostage amongst the stars, all while he’s chained to the bottom of the ocean floor gasping for air. 

But fuck the gods and fuck their gilded cages. 

He’d break from his chains, swim to the surface of the sea and grow wings. Would break your prison apart with the sheer force of his wanting, then drag you down to the depths if it meant he got to keep you for himself. 

He would. He really, really fucking would. If his world wouldn’t implode completely if he did. 

So he keeps these thoughts to himself. Forces them down as they try their damndest to bubble over and burn him, because they will if he lets them. If any of them get outside these little moments, the ones where he allows himself to feel, he would burn and burn and burn until there was nothing left. 

Therefore, Taehyung has never been more grateful that his best friend was stuck on the night shift while he watched you dance and enjoy yourself, because it granted him this sliver of time to pretend like your brother doesn’t exist. 

That you are something he could let himself have, if you wanted him to.

And he’s solid in his decision to only observe, to stay inside his little moment, until fuckhead doesn’t get the message for the third time and Taehyung is out of his seat before he can think. 

Because Fourteen isn't here. 

And old habits die hard. 

“What the hell? Let me go, Micah!” You see his eyes then, red rimmed and glazed. He definitely has more than one thing in his system as his grip on you hardens further. The more you struggle, the tighter he grasps and—ouch, ouch, ouch, yank, fuck! Ow!—it’s really starting to hurt. 

“Just give me one more chance Kitten, I promise I’ll do better,” he whisper in your ear over the music, and you cringe back from how loud he is. But that doesn’t stop him from continuing, “I fucked up, I know I did. But that was years ago, and I learned my lesson. Just one more chance Kitten, just one more, and I—I promise. I promise it won’t happen again. It won’t. I really miss y–AH! What the fuck!?”

The hand on your arm releases the second Micah yelps in pain. You look down to see familiar ringed fingers around Micah’s wrist, clutching so hard they’re white knuckled and skin bruising. 

A broad chest comes to rest at your back, and an arm snakes around you. Its large palm rests on your stomach and hip as it pulls you tightly against its owner. 

Words covered in sharpest ice are spoken from behind you, their baritone so recognizable they have you melting back into him. 

Safe. 

You’re safe. 

Exhale.

“Do. Not. Touch. Her.” Taehyung growls so deeply, so powerfully, you feel the rumble from behind his sternum reverberate into your body. 

Micah’s focus shifts from his wrist to the man several inches taller and several years his senior still holding it. You watch as his face contorts from pained to confused and then to murderous. 

“The fuck are you to tell me not to touch my girlfriend?” Micah seethes, and you stiffen because no the fuck you are not, and haven’t been for several years. 

How blitzed out of his mind is he right now?

You don’t even get the chance to deny his words before Taehyung’s on Micah like fire to dried grass.

“Don’t make me laugh, Asshole. No way in hell an pig faced looking fucker like you could pull a woman like her. Now,” Tae roughly shoves Micah’s hand back to him, and it forces Micah to stumble into the people behind with the force. “Get the fuck away from My Girl before I make you My Problem. And trust me,” Tae says in a tone so dangerous, you’ve never heard him sound so terrifying in the fifteen plus years you’ve known him, “You don’t want me to make you my problem.”

And you realize, that this isn’t the Taehyung you’ve grown up with; seen through his awkward teen years and watched come into his adult life with. This isn’t jazz music and poetry Taehyung. 

This Taehyung has only ever come out the handful of times you’ve ever been in trouble. The one who studied Judo with Fourteen growing up, the one who has his fourth Dan. 

The one who does not play when it comes to you and your safety. 

It’s enough to know that Taehyung is more than pissed off, and more than a little ready to beat the absolute shit out of Micah, if the whiskey on his breath says anything about his loosened inhibitions. 

Micah seems to sense this too, and decides to back off. But not without a stupid macho expression and two middle fingers directed at both of you as he disappears into the crowd, and out of sight. 

You can feel the tension radiating off Taehyung in waves, a coil so tightly wound that a gentle breeze could set him loose, so you turn around and attempt to safely unwind. His hand moves from your stomach to your lower back, and you ignore the trail of wildfire it leaves in its wake because Tae’s eyes haven’t wavered from the spot where Micah just stood. 

“Don’t.” You say, loud enough for him to hear. And his flame filled irises snap to yours, burning. “He’s not worth it.”

Your words seem to bring him back somewhat because Tae sniggers. “Damn right he’s not,” then softens. “Are you okay?”

You look anywhere but at him, the reality of the last three minutes crashing down onto your head like broken glass while the both of you are still caught in the middle of the dancefloor. 

The people around you seem to understand something’s happened, and you’re left mostly untouched aside from the gentle nudges of inebriated party goers whose balance isn’t the best at the moment. 

Like the mellowed waves in the eye of a storm.

Taehyung seems to make sense of this at the same time you do, and lifts his free hand for you to take. Slipping your fingers into his, he leads you to an unused and out of the way emergency exit hallway somewhere in the back of the club. It’s completely empty and dark, undisturbed besides the occasional server passing by. 

It’s private. 

It’s safe. 

You’re safe.

You’re safe.

He lets go of your hand and looks at you again. “Now, are you okay?” 

The adrenaline is wearing off, and you can feel yourself start to shake. You ignore it. Sort of.

“I’m okay,” you say. But he’s eyeing you suspiciously and rightly so, so you repeat yourself, trying to convince your own brain more than his right now. 

“I’m okay, really! I’m good. I’m–” you exhale a shaky breath and he doesn’t ask before pulling you to his chest. Wrapping both his arms around you, one around your back while the other holds your head protectively to him. Your own go around his waist as you grip him back tighter.

“I’ve got you,” he says.

“I’m okay,” you say again, muffled into his black high necked shirt, taking deep breaths of his soothing, familiar scent. You do it and again, and again. Repeating the pretty lie to yourself again and again until it becomes the truth. 

He doesn’t let go until you do, and you don’t let go until you’ve finally stopped shaking.

You look up into his eyes, and all signs of his previous wrath are gone. It seems the hug didn’t ground just you, it grounded him too. Got him out of the headspace that would’ve been required for action first, words later. But now the sun is back, it shines down on you, and you bask in its warmth. 

“I’m good now. Thank you,” you say in an even and unwavering voice, because you are. The panic and immense relief having washed over you, and you’re once again simply, pleasantly buzzed. 

Though you do have a new problem in the form of the warmth pooling low from the feeling of both his hands still on your lower back. 

You’re trying to convince yourself it’s his way of keeping you safe.

But the lock on your box has the key inside it, and it’s just begging for you to turn it. 

“Good,” he replies, still not letting go. And it’s chipping away at your sanity. “Who was that guy? I only caught the last bit of his pathetic ramblings.”

You wince. Due to a lovely combination of not being very active on social media, not being much of a picture taker, and the newly dyed hair Micah seemed to be sporting tonight, you’re not surprised Tae didn’t recognize him. 

“Ah. Uhm…That was...Micah,” you admit, unable to meet his eyes again. That’s when you notice his outfit tonight is all black. 

Oh you are so fucked.

 “As in Micah, Micah?” Tae asks neutrally, familiar with what your ex had done, just not what he looked like. 

“...Yeah...”

“I see.”

“Yeah...” You say again. Because what else could you say?

Tae cracks a smile. “Should’ve let me kick his ass. The balls on him not only to approach you, but to call you his—” he cuts himself off, biting the inside of his cheek before continuing in a hushed, caring tone. “After everything he’s done to you, you should’ve let me, PG. Consequences be damned.”

Your cheeks flame at the nickname so close to your ears. So tenderly said. And you honestly can’t tell if you still hate it in this moment, or if it’s only adding kindling to the fire his hands are fueling at the base of your spine. 

The new name he’d called you earlier, its ignition point. 

My Girl.

My Girl.

You swear, even in your panicked state, you’d momentarily forgotten how to breathe before inhaling far too much all at once. 

Fuck, what you won’t give to hear him say it again. But you’re 98.9% sure that’s the three shots of vodka talking. Trying their best to turn the damn key. And maybe they succeed in turning it half way—hell, maybe all the way, because you look him back in the eyes and hear yourself say,

“Maybe I should’ve, but I was far too distracted by the new nickname you finally gave me to give a single fuck about anyone else.”

The moment the last word is out Taehyung stiffens beneath your touch, fingers locked on your back, and you’re very pretty sure you just fucked absolutely everything up. 

Years of good behaviour, of keeping yourself in check. Of pockets of time and side long glances and knowing nothing would ever happen, stolen from you. By your own big, fat, adrenaline depleted, vodka loosened mouth. 

You're a second away from damage control before his grip shifts from your lower back to your hips. 

Higher. Tighter. Controlling. Oh fuck.

He leans down to murmur, “Liked the new name, did you?” in your ear.

Shivers shoot from your crown to your core and down to your toes. Having his deep, deliciously inviting voice so fucking close to your pulse point has you millimeters away from drowning in it. You know he can feel it course through you, just like you can hear the smile it makes him display away from your eyesight as he does. 

“You did then,” he responds for you, a cat toying with its meal as he lifts his head once more to look into your eyes. 

You don’t need a mirror to know the state of your pupils. Your gaze is glazed over in the sinful kind of way.

“I did,” you needlessly confirm, looking up into similarly blown out ones.

The fingers twined behind him release, and make their way around to his abdomen. They pause to splay for just a second at the defined ridges, before slowly crawling up his chest and meeting again at the nape of his neck. 

They play with the soft hair there, gently scratching their nails at the skin beneath where it grows and you watch as your ministrations cause his eyes to roll back, flutter shut, and his head to meet the wall behind him. A barely audible moan escapes the confines of his lips before he swallows,  the divine bob of his adams apple as he tries to regain his composure is the dawn of your undoing. 

“Fuck, PG that isn’t fair,” he groans towards the ceiling, his hands on your waist clamping down harder, pulling you so close your bodies touch in more places they definitely shouldn’t be. The contact has you reeling and all you want is more, more, more of it. 

More of him.

“PG isn’t the name you called me earlier,” you hum, yanking on a single loose strand and Tae sucks in a steep breath, biting the corner of his smirking lip with a canine. 

You want to hear him say it again. Badly. So you release the sensual grip you have on his nape, and let his head lul slowly back down to where it was, his deepening amber wholly fixated on your now entirely onyx. Your heart is begging for release from your chest, and for a moment you wonder if he can see your pulse thrumming in your eyes, because you sure as hell can feel it.

“No, it’s not. But it also hasn’t meant to me what it means to you for quite some time now,” his voice like honey, thick and dripping its way over your body. It’s making you dizzy and weighty with want. It has your mouth opening slightly as he leans closer still, knocking his nose gently with your own. Inhaling in your exhales. Teasing you. Making you work for it. 

“And what does it mean to you?” you ask, barely above a whisper, irises never straying from his as your bottom lip brushes against his in one solitary, intoxicating moment that has you more buzzed in one touch than three shots has had you all night. 

“Pretty Girl,” he breathes onto your lips, pushing his thigh between your legs at the same time he pulls you impossibly closer. You hear yourself moan ‘fuck’ at the contact it gives your throbbing cunt. Too focused on the need coursing through you like a live wire—your body pure water—to think about what you’re saying.

It’s a sweet sound and a violent pleasure he devours as his lips finally, finally, finally crash into yours, pinning you in place and allowing him to take every piece of you he wants. One hand slithers up your naked spine to hold you, your backless dress doing you every favour imaginable as his other continues to help you grind over his thigh.

His tongue slips into your mouth and you suck on it, causing him to jerk into you once with the rapidly growing want pressing into your lower belly. But your hands hold firm at his neck as you pull him into you, a knee lifting to meet his hip. Needing more contact.

The electricity filled pathways his fingers leave down your back, over your ass and across the bottom of your thigh to support your search for pleasure do nothing but spur on the overwhelming need to touch him everywhere. 

No holds barred. No clothes worn. Nothing stopping you. 

He uses his new grip to spin you around and press his hips into yours as your shoulders meet the wall. You’re left to moan sickly sweet sounds of bliss into his ear as Taehyung frees your mouth in favour of your jaw and neck, sucking gentle purple hues down the column of your throat and onto your collarbone. 

“Pretty Girl,” he whispers between love bites, “My Pretty Girl.” Over and over and it has you melting so far into him, the only thing keeping you apart is fabric and a potential audience. Though from the colour you’re going to have to cover with far too much concealer tomorrow, you don’t think he quite cares about that last part. 

It drives you farther into insanity. Years of want and restraint and pretty white lies you told yourself are crashing down on one another and it shows in the fervor of your touch, your wants, your pleads.

“Fuck, Tae—please. Please, I need you— please,” you beg, and the bite he leaves at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder has you gasping for air that refuses to be consumed gently. 

But Taehyung is a man on a mission. One who will not be deterred, and you can’t tell if he will be your pinnacle or your inevitable end. 

With what is very clearly great effort, Tae pulls himself back from your decolletage, only to kiss your lips once more. Open mouthed and dirty, tongue clinging to you like the only thing he’s concerned about is swallowing down as much of you as he can while you’ll let him, and you’ve never felt more desired in your life.

He’s hoarse as he says, “Not here. Not for the first time. Not…not here.” 

“Then where,” you ask, near impatient and far too eager as you let your hands roam wherever they want. And you find your thumbs tracing the waistline of his pants, dipping a nails width below where they should. They trail over the indented V of muscle you know is hiding under his shirt. He shudders. 

It makes you smile wickedly. 

“Then where, Taehyung,” you murmur into his neck with that wicked smile in your words as you trace your nose along his jaw. 

“Fuck, you’re something,” he says, almost pained, bringing you immense delight. To know you affect him as much as he does you. That you have him as much as he has you. 

Sly hands slowly pull his shirt from his trousers in an attempt to urge him on. It works, and his response is quick. 

“My place. It’s a ten minu—fuck PG,” he almost scolds as your digits toy with the hair at his navel, dipping lower—enough to feel the beginnings of something—but not low enough to discern anything. 

Yet.

 “Can you behave for that long?” 

You smirk. 

Retracting your hands, you hold them up to show you can be good, do a quick once over to make sure you're decent and spin on your heel to walk towards your booth. Tae is behind you immediately, hand placed low on your back, thumb rubbing circles on the sliver of skin it touches. You ignore the goose bumps that arise.

Rei and Lea are at your table, thankfully. You explain to them you ran into Micah and that it really shook you, so Tae’s going to take you home. They know who Tae is, so they’re not worried when they give you goodbye hugs or when they tell you to text them when you're home safe. 

You promise you will, and hope that the rest of Rei’s birthday goes well. 

True to his word, it’s a ten minute rideshare before you’re pulling up to a tall, black windowed apartment building.

You’ve only been to Tae’s a handful of times with your brother, mostly for things like pick ups for concerts and such, but now that you’re here—alone with him—you’re trying hard not to jump him in the fucking lobby. 

The pulsing between your legs has only worsened since you removed your hands from his waistline, and you’re close to crawling out of your skin with need. 

His hand stays in its place at your lower back as the elevator climbs. 

It’s not helping and completely helping at the same time.

Fuck.

Tae lives on the sixteenth floor and the view is incredible. It’s the first thing you see past the island when you walk in the front door. There’s the kitchen to the left past the entrance, which turns into the living space that’s furnished in a way you can only describe as pure Tae. 

Books littering every surface, warm neutral toned furniture to counterbalance the colourful artwork he keeps on the walls. There’s an old record player with a collection of vinyls in the corner and what you assume is this morning's coffee mug on the art book filled coffee table.

To the right of the living space is the bedroom. It’s a studio apartment, but Tae’s managed to keep the flow of the place beautifully with some creatively put, gorgeously decorated room dividers. And the tall floor to ceiling windows wrap around it all, showcasing the lights of the city as they blend into the stars in the night sky. 

Mesmerizing. 

Just like the man locking his door behind you.

A kiss is placed on the back of your neck as you slide out of your shoes at the front door. You angle your head to allow more space, letting the arm that folds around you bring you closer to him. The feel of his arousal begins to grow behind you once more and you push back against him. A faint grunt meets the shell of your ear before his hand delicately slides up from your lower stomach and past your sternum. It teases your neck for just a moment before it meets your jaw to turn your lips towards his. 

He captures them in a brutal kiss, drinking you in for all you’re worth and then some as his other hand replaces the one that now holds your jaw in place. He pulls you into him but you spin in his hold, throwing your arms around his neck once more and dragging him towards the living space. He sheds his jacket in the process, uncaring of where it lands on his floor so long as you are still kissing him. 

You only stop when your ass meets the top of the couch and Taehyung palms the back of your thighs to lift you, your legs wrapping themselves around his hips as you sit on its edge. 

He growls at the contact and it has you raking your nails down his neck and over his shirt as you open for him once more, tongues clashing and teeth scraping at the desperate nature you both share. You yank his shirt up and he breaks from your embrace for only the amount of time it takes for the fabric to hit the floor before he’s back on you, adding twin bruises to the other side of your throat. 

You let the strings holding up your dress fall naturally to the side, revealing your chest to him, and a  low, “Fucking hell,” is murmured somewhere below your ear before a nipple is in his mouth and you’re arching into his touch, slices of need shooting straight downwards. Giving no mercy to your attempts to draw out the pleasure. 

One large hand cups a breast, molding it to his wanting before he switches and you’re groaning into the air above you, begging him for more, determined to have his tongue anywhere and everywhere you can get it. He lavs at your peaked bud, roaming over the sensitive flesh, making you squirm at the sensations he’s drawing from you. 

You never want it to end as he makes his way back up to your mouth, dragging his bottom lip over all of the freshly deepend skin it trails in its wake, making you hazy with the feel of him and his marks. 

His delicate touch wanders the insides of your thighs and your cunt aches for it the higher it climbs. But it slides up not down, reaching around to your ass and hoisting you onto his hips. 

Turning, he walks the eight paces to his bed, places a knee on the mattress for support before setting you down. His lips never leave yours he crawls over you, settling his hips over yours for mere moments, allowing you to thrust only twice before he’s removing himself completely and sinking to his knees. 

The fingers you’ve spent way too much time thinking about can’t get enough of your skin as they skate down your sides, taking the dress bunched at your hips with them. You raise your hips to help him get the scrap of fabric off, leaving a delicate, black lace thong the only thing keeping any of your remaining modesty intact.

You watch as his now fully blackened gaze takes you in, jaw dropped in slight at the sight of you with your legs opened on his bed. Like you were the prize he’s been waiting years to claim, and now that you're here and that you’re his his, he can’t quite believe it. 

It’s then you realize that he wants you, and has been wanting you. That your attempts to stay in reality these last couple years weren’t just harder for you, but for him as well. 

It hasn’t been one sided.

He wants you. 

Taehyung. 

Off limits, older brother’s best friend, swim club participating, jazz and poetry loving, judo knowing, book gifting, perfect smile having, protective, Taehyung. 

Wants you. 

You can physically feel the gush that rushes from your core at the thought and you know Tae can see it through the lace.

“Holy fuck…you’re fucking drenched and I haven’t even properly touched you yet,” he rasps, unbelieving. 

“Then touch me and find out just how much I want this,” you whisper. Begging, pleading, praying your words have their intended effect. “How much I want you, Taehyung.”

The sound that leaves his throat is a mixture of a whimper, a groan, and a guttural noise indicative of pure desperate want as he takes hold of your legs and spreads them further. Those mother fucking fingers trace from your ankles to your knees accompanied by the occasional light kiss, back up your inner thighs, and finally to the spot where you’ve been weeping for him for the better part of thirty minutes with a heaping side of ten years yearned. 

He places one open mouthed kiss on the top of your clothed clit and that simple touch has you arching, lightning crackling through your veins with the pleasure it brings. Tae slides one single finger down your covered slit before pushing it under and pulling it to the side. 

At the mere sight of you he’s swearing so fiercely under his breath that you involuntarily clench and he can’t fucking take it anymore.

His mouth is on you and you buck at the sensation. Yielding you no mercy, his tongue swipes from opening to clit in one long lick that has you gasping, clutching bed sheets above and below your head to keep from screaming. 

“Oh my—Fuck—Tae. Ohmygodohmy—” you’re rambling. Incoherent. A mess. 

He’s consuming your very being, no nerve left untouched, no reaction too minimal for his learning as he snakes his hands around your legs to haul you closer, pull you deeper into his mouth and you can’t fucking take it. You’re screaming out at the intensity he circles you with, and you can feel your impending orgasm come rushing to the surface. You’ve barely even processed it’s begun before you’re spasming so hard Tae has to remove an arm from your leg to throw around your pelvis. 

His devious fucking eyes meet yours for one earth shattering moment as he slips two fingers inside and begins a secondary merciless pursuit on your already overwhelmed senses. Using the pads to press upwards in time to the motions he never ceased with his tongue, a second wave is cresting before the first has ceased and you feel yourself clamping down, legs holding him in place as the intensity of your release climaxes. 

You’ve never felt a pressure so intense before, it’s like your body is a volcano and you’re erupting for the first time while someone sets off fireworks from its peak. The lava flows in waves, your hand holding his hair as you ride his face, shuddering at the vibrations his moan into your cunt leaves on the most sensitive parts of your body. 

Gentle strokes and licks calm as your pleasure begins to wane and you can breathe in more than just stuttered inhales again. 

“Holy fu–” you try to get out, but your voice is hoarse, like you’ve been screaming the entire time. 

And fuck, maybe you have been. You sure as hell can’t remember or think of anything more than the warm fuzzy feeling currently radiating from every single pore in your body. The damningly  deliciously dizzying feeling in your head not allowing for coherent thoughts to pass. Your limbs are loose, your body wholly relaxed. 

You’re…Well. You’re fucking perfect right now. If you could stay in this moment forever you would without second thought. Locked in this room with him for all time sounds like the best way to live out the rest of your days.

Until you wince as Tae blows warm breath on your core and he chuckles, then does it again. 

“Hey,” you say, sounding much clearer now, “Stop that and come here.”

You slip your hand down his face and grab him by the jaw, pulling him up and over you. Tae tastes like fire and whiskey and ambrosia and you as you kiss him with abandon, near feral as you take what you want from him and he revels in it. 

He’s on his elbows and a knee over you, and you use it to your full advantage to palm him over his pants and—Fuck he’s big. No wonder he was so thorough on you. This is going to hurt no matter how much prep either of you did.

He hisses at the contact and that only spurs you on, grasping firmly at his base and roving up and over the head with the heel of your palm, squeezing gently in time with his reactions.

“Christ PG, if you keep doing that I’m going to cum in my pants,” Tae laughs into your neck before rising to sit back on his heels. He gets as far as undoing his belt buckle and button before you take over, sitting up and pulling him out. 

He is disastrously beautiful, just like the rest of him, and your mouth waters at just the idea of him in your mouth. 

Licking your lips, you hear him curse quite colourfully as you take the tip into your mouth and swish your tongue over the head. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

Tae raises one hand to his eyes and the other behind him to hold him up as you take him deeper, shaking from restraining himself so hard, murmuring to himself, “Oh fuck. Fuck me, can’t believe—so fucking good, pretty—perfect—ohmygod,” and you seal the motherfucking deal by taking him into the back of your throat and looking up into his eyes at the same time. 

Taehyung barks and bucks once into your throat before removing himself and throwing you down onto the bed. He looks furious in the way that gets your heart racing, your cunt thrumming and your breathing so fast your chest feels like it might shatter from the crosscurrents. 

He grabs each of your hands and raises them above your head, sliding his fingers up your wrists and between your own, holding them in place on his pillow.

Leaning down, he uses his lowest timber to speak darkly into your ear, teasing your swollen clit with the tip of his cock. Sliding back and forth, sending bolts of white hot need through you. 

“You drive me fucking insane,” he starts, thrusting, teasing, torturing. And you moan at the contact. 

“You make me want to throw away a decades old friendship just for the chance to touch you.” 

Thrust, tease, jolt, whine. 

“And what’s worst of all is you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted, the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and you turn me into a complete idiot the second you enter the room. It’s like your fucking presence takes away all the working functions in my brain and leaves me with only the incurable fucking desire to make you cum until you can’t remember you own fucking name. Only mine.”

Thrust, squeeze, glide, jolt. “Tae...” you whine, delirious with pleasure, drunk on his greed and  delighted by his torture.

“I call you PG because it’s the only way I can get away with calling you anything more than your name around him.” He sounds almost angry with how low he growls. “And it means so much more than you could think.”

He leans further into you, so close now that his lips brush your ear as he speaks. 

“My Pretty Girl,” thrust, “My Precious Girl,” moan, “My Perfect Fucking Girl.” 

He releases one hand to line himself up with your entrance. “That’s who you are to me. That’s what I’m calling you when I call you PG. My Pretty, Precious, Perfect Girl. My Girl.” He slips past your walls, sinking deep and you both groan in euphoric unison. “Mine.”

Tae pulls out, slow and controlled. 

Blissful. 

Then pushes back in, methodically. 

Torturous. 

Feeling every inch you can take, which is every single fucking one.

Inevitable.

Bottoming out for the second time, you whisper, “Yours,” into his ear, and he turns fucking ravenous.

Setting an absolutely ruthless pace, he claims your body, taking what’s so clearly always been his. Your legs wrap around him again, digging a heel into his ass as you drive him closer, harder with every push. Then lay claim to the one thing you’re able to, taking his lips with yours and biting down hard enough to draw the most sinful groan from the back of his throat. Hoarse, deep, almost broken with how raw it is. 

One hand bruises its fingerprints into your hip while the other holds him up over you, and you use this to your advantage, slipping one leg around his and flipping the both of you over. 

You trail your tongue down his jaw to his clavicle, he tastes of sweat and lust and sex and it is the most intoxicating thing you’ve ever consumed. Creating your own gardens of little blooming flowers down one side of his neck and up the other, Taehyung moans greedily into your ear as your ride to match his thrusts, sending him deeper while you decorate your willing canvas. 

Because as much as he wishes to lay claim to your body, you want to claim his as well. 

“Mine,” you say, positioning yourself to take over completely, using the springs of the mattress to do most of the work for you. 

“Yes,” he says. But that’s not good enough. 

“Mine,” you demand, and let loose, pressing down on the mattress with your knees rapidly, creating the glorious effect you wanted. You watch as the up force from the mattress causes Taehyung to be driven into you so quickly he throws his head back, mouth dropped in pure ecstasy. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, YN, What the fuck—” he rambles, lost to the pleasure, biting his lip, going slackjawed, clenching and unclenching his fists into bedsheets that already have your handprints seared into them.

And you keep going, a little torture creation of your own. 

“Mine,” you demand again, and this time, it clicks.

“Yours! Fuck, yours. All yours, only yours,” he surrenders and you slow back down to a regular pace, breathless. 

It’s a great move but it’s exerting. 

You all but collapse on his chest and he takes over, thrillingly pissed off due to your power play. 

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” he asks, and you clench at his tone. 

He removes himself and you whimper, but he’s maneuvering you like a ragdoll on the bed and you’re more than fucking willing to be thrown around. 

He’s kneeling on the bed, lifting your hips and sliding into you in a doggy style, but then he’s doing the most insane thing you think you’ve ever seen. With an arm around your stomach he brings your back to his torso and twists you both to face the open floor to ceiling windows. One of your legs is thrown over his that’s up to splay you wide for the skyline to see, and you can see your reflection in the glass. 

You look beyond fucked out, and so does he, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. But then his hand is sliding to your throat, and a whispered, “Is this okay?” finds your ears. You nod.

Gripping the sides of your throat, he slides his other hand to graze your clit before beginning his own version of the move you just pulled. Pumping into you at a pace that has your g-spot screaming from all of the attention it’s receiving, his fingers swiping deftly over the bundled nerves at the apex of your thigh whilst lightly cutting off the blood supply to your brain. 

It has you twitching and hazy and dizzy in seconds. You can see yourself losing to the feeling so steadily building at the base of your spine in the glass. Mouth open, body willing, the man who’s been at the center of your wanting for longer than you can remember, its deliverance. 

Dark, sex tousled hair, muscled forearms holding you up and driving you insane. Blackened eyes focused on you and only you through the mirror the darkness of the night’s sky has created for you. 

It’s that visual that sets you over the edge when he releases your throat, and you feel a gush flowing from where you two meet.

“Fuuuck yes. My Perfect Girl, cum all over my sheets, drench my cock. That’s it,” he purrs in your ear and it’s doing nothing but sending shock after shock into your already over sensitive and pulsing cunt, letting your consciousness float somewhere above or below you, you don’t really care. 

All you know is that you feel light as a feather and not of this earthly plane. 

Taehyung removes himself and lies you down gently. He’s back inside soon after and it just feels right as he fills you, like it’s where he’s meant to be. 

He hovers over you once more, and you lift a single knee to his hip, mimicking your position from the club as he thrusts into you with fervor, chasing his own high after delivering three mind shattering ones to you. 

Reaching one hand to his cheek, you hold him as he kisses you, working himself to completion. 

Using your other to deliver a few expert circles to your clit, so you can come together, you breathe in each other's release and  drown in once another’s embrace. 

You leave his name on your tongue this time. A gift. A cry so delicate that a tear falls from your cheek and he kisses it away.

Taehyung inhales sharply, before stuttering his exhale and an exquisite warmth fills you.

“F-f-uu-ckkk,” he shudders as he lets the aftershocks of his release claim you in the most basic and animalistic of ways. You drink in the vulnerable sound, taking his mouth with yours one final time as you bask in each other's pleasure. Silent but for catching breaths, exertion evident as you hold one another. 

Taehyung rests on your chest. Lines are sketched gently with your nails up and down his spine and into his hair as he comes down, content in the afterglow, where nothing is wrong and everything is perfect. 

Before consequences kick in and regrets form. 

When he decides he’s ready, Tae lifts and removes himself from you and you can feel the remnants of your combined efforts slide down to the bedsheets. 

Tae takes a single finger and gathers it up before pressing it back in. You hiss at the now tender flesh. Though the pain doesn’t stop the warmth newly pooling at the sight and feel and meaning. 

He pumps it back in once, twice before removing his finger and placing it in his mouth to clean off. Your cunt flutters at the sight and Tae smirks, leaning forward to share his findings with you in the form of a filthy, open mouthed, tongue filled kiss. It’s slightly salty, slightly metallic but you pull him back for one last lick when he tries to pull away. 

Watching him kneeling there, in the glow of moonlight, you realize just how truly beautiful he is. The shape of his illuminated profile, the expanse of his chest as he breathes in, the colour of his skin under silver rays. He’s stunning. 

You smile up at him, spent, sated and so astronomically fucked if your brother ever finds out. 

Tae must see the thought on your face, because he says, “Don’t worry about him. I’ll handle it.”

But you honestly don’t give a fuck about that right now. That’s a tomorrow issue. What you want to know is, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what, exactly?” He specifies. 

You sit up, eye to eye as he sits on the edge of the bed, one leg on the ground. 

“All of it. Any of it.”

There. 

Now it was out in the open. And the rest is up to him. 

You could drag yourself back down to reality. Chalk this night up to booze and bad timing and perfect timing. Could convince yourself it was just one night and that it would have to be enou—

“All of it,” he interrupts, the most sincere expression you’ve ever seen on him on full display. “Definitely all of it. Every last fucking word.”

You slump on your exhale, so fucking relieved you didn’t have to keep trying to lie to yourself that you could forget this happened. 

You’re laughing before you can fight it off, shoulders shaking. Smiling so wide it hurts. 

“Uh..YN?” Tae asks, clearly not sure how to take your reaction and you compose yourself. 

“That’s PG to you,” you say as you crawl onto his lap, and kiss him into oblivion. 

It’s interesting to finally sit on the dock across the way in East Egg. 

The fog is gone, the sky is a brilliant blue, and the little box you kept sits open next to you, the lock and its key lost somewhere to the depths below your feet. Funny how harmless it seems now that there’s nothing locked inside anymore, like it could never really have hurt you in the first place. 

You take in your newly emptied creation, and quirk a brow when you see it move. 

A wiggle at first, before it’s shaking and spinning and shrinking, turning from a box into a glass windowed locket. Golden and delicate and beautiful, with a matching chain. You ponder for a moment what it could be for, before turning to look down at the green light to your right. 

An idea strikes. 

Unclasping the little window, you lift the opened pendant to the green light. And to your delight, the emerald hue hops into its new home, closing its tiny windowed door. 

You smile at the clever little light, lacing the chain around your neck, resting it on the middle of your sternum, right above your heart. Its brilliant hue shining brightly through the pane for all to see.

Funny how the green light you so longed for, longed for you back, and is now yours for keeps.

A/N 2.5: This is what has been rotting in my brain for the better half of two weeks so please enjoy, it was supposed to be short and trope filled to cure my writers block but apparently I am incapable of short. But trope filled it clearly is. Overall tho, I'm quite pleased with this one.

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

Masterlist

[possiblyreallyme]

Ace's little girlfriend

warning: dirty words, getting caught (sort of?), ace can't be subtle for the life of him.

The young second division commander was a fun time on the ship, from his stupid pranks to his kitchen raids. He was like the little brother of the crew, despite going on and on about his own younger brother all the time, bragging or just straight up annoying the men with stories.

And he was a flirt, much to the teasing of everyone else. He'd playfully flex his muscles when girls saw them working on the deck, wink across bars when the crew was in a tavern or even scoot just a little closer to the fancy pirate ladies they sometimes met.

It was funny— Of course Marco would have to tease him, of course Thatch would impersonate him at dinner, of course Izo would bat his lashes and "faint" as if Ace was some sort of hunk. And what made it funnier, was that they all knew what he really was.

Poor boy liked to pretend to be some bigshot, but they knew he was nothing more than a nervous virgin, too shy to even hold a girl's hand. It was cute when they asked about all the chicks he'd banged and watch him go bright red, flames licking at his freckled shoulders while he stutters and fumbles over his words.

One time, back on a summer island when Ace was still relatively new, Thatch thought it'd be funny to buy a red thong and place it in Ace's laundry basket to stir up his nerves. And boy, was it the talk of all of Whitebeard's fleets for months.

"Ummm..." If only this situation was as lighthearted as that time.

Ace had the eyes of every man on the ship burning holes into his skin, and he had never wished he wore a shirt more because suddenly the mostly-faded scratches down his back and shoulders felt bright red and exposed.

Marco was stunned into silence, seeing how Ace clutched the small white piece of fabric with a death grip, looking ready to burn it while he kept it in his clenched fist. He had never seen Ace grab something from someone so fast— not even when Luffy's bounty went up and Vista held the wanted poster over his head.

"Son," Whitebeard started slowly, raising an eyebrow from where he sat at his chair, keeping his voice low and suspicious. "Could you tell me why Marco found that up in the crow's nest this morning?"

Mortified, Ace turned a brighter red than the beads of his necklace, stammering over some lame excuse about how it wasn't his! He had just grabbed it out of Marco's hand because, um, it was disrespectful to stare at a lady's undergarments!

Thatch practically snorted; eyes glued to Ace's fist with a playful grin. The situation might have been odd and slightly serious, but it was entertaining nonetheless.

Marco, however, was much more smug than Ace was comfortable with, crossing his arms with a mean curl of his lips as he strode forward.

"Well, it seems our Fire-Fist here does know how to get some pussy." He didn't care how embarrassed it made the young division commander to hear him use such dirty words, especially when Ace himself was known far and wide for his colorful vocabulary.

"I-It's not like that!" Ace all but screamed, voice a little too high-pitched and whiney to convince any of them. He knew damn well it was like that, and it almost made him feel bad to deny that you two had such an amazing night a few hours before.

He wished he had the brains to think of a way out of the situation, blame it on someone that they wouldn't be surprised snuck a girl onto the ship. Part of him wished he could boast, too. Because fuck, last night was something he wouldn't be able to get out of his newly-fucked head.

The fabric was so small, especially in Ace's large hands. Much too dainty and breakable and feminine to belong to anyone on the crew. Even the nurses wouldn't wear something like this, a cute, cotton lace with frilly white edges and a flowery design.

"Ha!!" Thatch couldn't hold it back anymore, encouraging the crew to break out into fits of laughter and snickers and almost childish giggles, which only further Ace's wish to bury himself in a hole and die.

Oh god, he was such an idiot. He should have remembered to pick up your panties before someone saw them, and now he would pay the price.

[enchantedflameandflower]

billy teaching his girl how to smoke a cig would be so attractive

I feel like maybe they would go out to a bar or something and in like a tipsy confession she says “i’ve never smoked” or something like that ”idk how to smoke properly im always coughing its so embarrassing blah blah blah”

Need my man to guide me through it

Billy x you! Nsfw 18+ only for smoking, smut, piv, creampie, hint of exhibitionism

Thank you SO MUCH for this ask anon! Once I got the idea for the vibe it just took off. Hope you all enjoy!

~

It’s late, almost midnight, and you’re sitting up on the roof of your apartment building with Butcher and a cold bottle of beer each. The air is a little chilly but not bad and no one else seems to ever come up here so it’s nice. You’d met Butcher at the bar but it had been crowded and annoying so you’d invited him back to your place. 

The building seems to be mostly made up of elderly people but you love it. They’re kind and quiet and you love being able to help them when they need. The random baked goods you receive from time to time don’t hurt either. There’s one old lady specifically that Billy has charmed completely. He’s definitely got her wrapped around his little finger, that one. 

And you enjoy the quiet at night. You’re sitting cross-legged on a sort of concrete platform on top of the roof that’s at the perfect height. Billy is sitting next to you, his big booted feet planted on the ground of the roof.

You can’t help glancing over at him, and you know affection is shining in your eyes but you can’t help it and you don’t care. You’d started this sort of friends with benefits casual thing a couple months ago but you were falling for him hard and you knew it. Yeah, he was rough around the edges, really rough, but there was so much more to him and you had never cared what anyone else thought. 

And damn if he wasn’t the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. Tall, dark and brooding as fuck. 

“I thought you quit,” you murmur, nodding toward the cigarette he’s puffing lazily next to you. 

He smirks. “I did. Don’t know what ‘cher talkin’ ‘bout.” He takes another drag then holds it out toward you.

You pause for a second but then you take it between your fingers. “I always feel like I’m not doing it right…” you half joke. “And then I just cough.”

Billy looks at you. “All this time on planet ‘earf and ya don’t know how to smoke proper? It ain’t that hard, love…” He grins mischievously. “Just wrap those pretty lips ‘round and suck. But slowly, not too much. An’ let it out slow like, too.”

You nod, pursing your lips around the cigarette but Billy scoots closer immediately. 

“Not so tight, love, relax. Little more slack…ya know, like how ya move your lips when me cock’s slidin’ in.”

You’re immediately pulling the cigarette out of your mouth as your cheeks flush. “Butcher!” 

He just grins and inches back on the platform before he tugs on your wrist, pulling you to sit in his lap and guiding your hand back up. “Try again.”

You try not to think about how good his hard thighs feel beneath you and put the end of the cigarette up to your lips but let it rest there between the two instead of gripping it. You take a slow inhale in, and then slowly blow it out again, watching as the swirl of white smoke drifts gently away. 

Butcher squeezes your hip. “There ya are, doll, see?” he grins, his dimple showing and you know he’s thinking his metaphor is what made all the difference.

“You’re a menace,” you murmur, handing the cigarette back to him. 

Butcher takes a long drag, then after a moment lets go. The thick smoke curls out from his full lips and between the both of you as he exhales. There’s something so fucking sexy about the way he does it and the glimmer in his eyes as he catches you looking at him. He continues to exhale, the smoke kissing your mouth. You breathe it in, swearing you can taste him on it. 

Holding the cigarette up to your mouth again, Butcher watches as you pull lightly and his dark hazel eyes go even darker with heat.

The look makes you squirm in his lap and his big hand clenches your waist. “Ya keep that up and I’m gonna end up takin’ ya right here on this concrete,” he threatens - promises? - a low husk to his voice now. 

Yeah…the thought of that and his gruff tone make you wet for him immediately. It’s been a couple weeks since the last time you slept together and suddenly now you need him so much it hurts. 

He must be able to tell by the look on your face because the corner of his mouth lifts in a wicked smirk. “Ya like that idea, dontcha doll?” 

“Maybe…” you murmur and he tsks at you. He gives you the cigarette and you hold it up to your mouth again as his hand slips down between your thighs. Your leggings and your thin underwear do next to nothing to shield your already throbbing clit from his rough fingers.

He presses in firmly, rubbing his fingertips in a little circle, and his smile widens. “I can already tell, hot and slick for me, aren’t ya.”

Two can play this game, you think. Leaning forward, you bite his full lower lip and he growls, sliding his hand in your hair and tugging you close to capture your mouth fully with his. He tastes like cigarettes and beer and something uniquely him, masculine and rich.  

His tongue slides over yours, hot and possessive and it turns your insides to jelly, somehow making you want him even more when you thought you were already at the max. You moan into his kiss as his tongue strokes into your mouth. The sensation makes you shiver, your center throbbing for him, clenching around nothing. How you wish he was already buried inside you. Butcher holds you closer against him and only breaks the kiss when you push at his chest, gasping softly for air. 

His eyes are dark with need and his gaze is intense. His eyes flick to your lips and you know they must be swollen and pink from his kiss. Your breath is still coming in little pants but you panic a little under his steady stare.

“What?” you ask, a little scared of the answer, but the look in his eyes is making you think crazy stupid things that couldn’t possibly be real, you had to be dreaming…

“Ya don’t even know how bloody gorgeous you are, do ya?” he husks. 

“I - ” you swallow, your muddled brain trying to make sense of what he was saying. Fuck. His hand is still pressed between your thighs and you groan as he shifts you closer. The motion presses his thick knuckle right against your cunt.

“Fuck Billy…need you, please…” you gasp, wriggling against his hand, your eyes fluttering closed.

You don’t want to wait to go back downstairs, you don’t want to wait another second, you want him right here, right now out in the open air, all of his teasing way too much to bear. You’ll beg for it if you have to.

But you don’t. 

Billy is moving the instant you stop speaking. He lets go of you to strip his battered old coat off and you squeak, throwing your arms around his neck, the cigarette still between your fingers, to keep from getting dumped right off his lap.

He tosses his coat on the cement next to you then reaches down to pull your shoes off, before standing and flipping you over to lay you down across his coat. 

“Such a gentleman,” you tease, smiling up at him from your prone position. The cement is still cold and hard beneath you and his coat, but you don’t care and you know you’ll appreciate the lack of cement burn in the morning. 

“Oi, when am I not?” he grins devilishly  and before you can answer he’s pulling your leggings down your long legs, and everything else with them, stripping you bare from the waist down.

He catches your gaze, then his big hand slides from your hip to your side, pushing your shirt up. He bends down to nip and bite at your stomach then drags his mouth over your skin, beard tickling and rubbing, until he reaches your breasts. You wiggle and arch to help him push your shirt and bra up the rest of the way under your arms until you’re naked from your tits down, spread out for him on the cement platform in the night air.

“You’re a fuckin’ sight, ain’t ya,” he rumbles, his eyes taking their fill of you as his rough hands smooth over your body and the chilled air licks at all your naked skin. “Think anyone can see?” He glances up to the right of you, at a taller building next to this one that clearly has lights in some of the windows. 

You whimper, squirming and closing your eyes. “Oh god…” you breathe. 

“Splayed out naked, out in the open here and practically beggin’ for me,” he hums.

“Billy,” you gasp. You aren’t sure if you want to just hurry up and get it over with or if you’re actually going to explode with pent up lust but either way you need him to fuck you now.

Billy seems to acquiesce and he palms your breast, tugging at your tight nipple with one hand while the other undoes his buckle and the button of his jeans. 

He takes the cigarette out of your hand and puts it back in his mouth, holding it with his teeth and taking another long puff as he unzips his jeans, pushing them just low enough on his hips so his thick cock can spring free. He flicks the cigarette aside on the cement then uses both hands to tug on your hips, pulling you to the edge. 

“Fuck…Billy,” you groan as he slots his swollen length against your slick cunt and presses your thighs further part then starts to push in. 

“Don’t need to tell me twice…” he rumbles. 

You stretch for him as he slides inside you, but he’s so big and you have to take a breath to relax enough to take him all the way. 

“So fuckin’ tight,” he groans in a gruff voice, and he shifts to slip his thumb over your clit to help ease his way inside. 

The moment the tip of his thumb circles the slick, tight bud, pleasure bursts inside of you and he thrusts all the way in, filling you up. 

It’s so good. You cry out loud, then quickly lift your hand to cover your mouth and muffle the sound but Billy grabs your wrist, pulling your arm away. “N‘uh…need to hear ya, love. Need to know how much you need my cock…”

“Everyone will…hear…” you whimper as he thrusts inside you again. 

“Won’t know it’s you, doll. Let them listen. Let them hear how good my cock makes you feel…”

All you can do is moan as he thrusts again and then again, his fingers teasing at your stiff nipple and then your clit again, driving you mad, always knowing where to go next. But you need more, you need all of him. 

“Harder…please…Billy…” you moan, clenching around his cock as he buries it deep, gripping the edges of his coat with your fingers. 

“Tha’s my good girl,” Butcher growls, thrusting harder and picking up his speed, hitting that perfect spot inside of you over and over.

You’re crying out with each deep thrust now and you don’t care who hears. When you wrap your legs around his hips, he leans down and presses against you, catching your shoulders and holding on as he groans against the curve of your neck. You can feel the vibration from his chest just as he thrusts, hitting every nerve ending on the way. It makes you cry out loud again, desperate and wanton. The sound echoes off the brick walls, making you blush harder as the pleasure of it zings straight to your clit. Fuck why does it turn you on even more…and it’s so annoying how quiet he can be even when he’s making you crazy. 

After another moment though, all thought leaves your mind and all you know is how fucking good Billy feels as you balance on the knife edge of bliss. The base of his cock pushes right against your clit as he gives one last hard thrust and then starts to pulse deep inside of you. It’s more than enough to make you come too. You’re crying out his name before you can stop yourself in choked moans and gasps that can definitely be heard in the next building as your body shudders in overwhelming pleasure.

Butcher slumps against you as he finishes emptying himself in your body and you curl your arms around his neck, your cunt still fluttering around him as the waves of pleasure from your climax only slowly start to abate.

The cigarette lays forgotten going cold beside you as he finally pushes himself up and tucks his cock away. You can still feel his come leaking out of you, mixed with yours, warm and sticky on your thighs but you can’t even find the energy to cover yourself.

When he starts to slide your clothes back on for you, you make a little noise, tiredly protesting at the mess still between your legs, but he hums and shakes his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in that smirk he has with a glint in his hazel eyes. “Have to wait ‘til we get back down to your flat, love. You like it, dontcha? Feelin’ what ya made me do?” he adds, his voice still gruff and low with sex. 

You make a sound of resignation but it is kind of hot, his small possessive way of marking and claiming you. You’re his.

When he has your bottom half dressed again, he grabs your hand and tugs you up, helping you pull your bra and shirt back in to place. You feel completely boneless and blissed out, and you quirk your lips in a half smile as you look up at him. “Fuck Billy…” you whisper. 

He chuckles softly and pulls you close against his broad chest in a hug, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Let’s get ya back inside and practice some more with that pretty mouth o’ yours, love, eh? Need ya too much.”

~*~*~ Thanks again anon, hope you like! Also thanks to @butchersdarkbird for letting me chat about it, @shirley-girly for giving me the perfect idea for a line for Billy on her reblog of a previous post and @dwinchesterspie1967 for the idea of including extra of his devilish smirk ❤️

@jynx15 @kus-babygirl @weallhaveadestiny @karlurbanism

@dustie-faerie @violent-darkness @bohemianblasphemy

karl urban masterlist

[yourbloodysunrise]

Loved the tall readers Have. Can you do short reader next?

🌤 — sure, why not!I like writing this :з

🌤 — despite the fact I know what about that request, pls, don't forget about mentioning fandom, it really makes it easier when I sort out requests in askbox.enjoy!

❝ What a cute little damn dangerous ninja! ❞

— FANDOM: NINJAGO

— PAIRING: MAIN NINJAS X SHORT!READER

— ROMANTIC

— HEADCANONS

— READER IS GENDER NEUTRAL

— TW: BAD ENGLISH, BAD GRAMMAR, OOC, READER IN NINJA BY DEFAULT, SOME NINJAS ARE TURNED OUT CLINGY :o

LLOYD:

☆ ┈ Considering Lloyd behaves yourself kinda childishly with a tall reader, then short reader is more fortunate.

☆ ┈ It doesn't matter if you're shorter than him or the same height as him, Lloyd doesn't really care.

☆ ┈ He looks a bit like a golden retriever to you. He often hangs around you, behaves nice to you, worries about you and protects you like the apple of his eye.

☆ ┈ Towards you, Lloyd is more of a gentle guy than your leader. Sometimes you will have to remind him of this when he starts to worry about you.

☆ ┈ He often worries about you, but not like other ninjas. He can be paranoid because of his past, and can often worry about you for a while so that he does not leave you for some time, but he respect you as a ninja so this is not happening often.

☆ ┈ Misako adores you!She like a second mother to you, always listen to you and help you with advice. About Lord Garmadon..It's more complicated, however, at the time when he was Sensei Garmadon, he treated you with respect and found you and Lloyd sweet as a couple.

☆ ┈ Lloyd may make jokes about your height sometimes, but he won't tease you about it. After all, he knows what it's like when you're short..

☆ ┈ If someone makes fun of you because of your height, consider that Lloyd has already gone hunting. After all, green ninja can't afford to have his partner insulted, right?

☆ ┈ In your spare time, he will invite you to watch a movie together while eating sweets. Of course, you can choose not sweets, but then bring him some, okay?

☆ ┈ In the ninja team, you are his soft spot. Lloyd may be a good leader, but he is a little embarrassed by the fact that he will command his partner.

☆ ┈ Dude just think that you're cute???

— "It's pretty cold outside..Wanna hold hands?We should stay close."

— "Oh, okay.."

— "It's summer, guys."

NYA:

☆ ┈ Okay, she's a little confused, but it doesn't last long. Anyway, it's not so important that you're short, is it?

☆ ┈ As with a tall reader, Nya don't care much about your height, although in this case expect even more gestures of affection.

☆ ┈ For example, Nya will often pick you up in her arms if you can't reach something, or wrap her arms around you when you hug.

☆ ┈ She can be tactile, but it usually happens when you two are alone. Most of the time it's either a hug or you're holding hands, mostly because it's her favorite.

☆ ┈ Despite the fact that she is confident in your relationship, she is quite jealous. Even if it's just some random person flirting with you, or your fans, she's feels annoyed about it anyway. And if it's one of the villains, she's ready to tear them apart.

☆ ┈ Nya loves you, but she doesn't know how to say it, or even show it. Most of the time, the actions in your relationship are not as romantic as those of other couples, but you two have enough of it.

☆ ┈ You can take some of her old things, she doesn't mind. She's even amused by the sight of you walking around in her clothes.

☆ ┈ She's definitely not the kind of person who would worry about you just because of your height. Nya, of course, can certainly worry about your well-being, but she also knows that you can stand up for yourself.

☆ ┈ Kai can tease you about your height, but then he gets a portion of water on his head from Nya, so he usually doesn't do that.

☆ ┈ It still doesn't matter how tall you are, she just loves you.

— "What's so bad about be short?"

— "Do you want list or something?"

JAY:

☆ ┈ Okay, let's be honest, he adores you with all his soul.

☆ ┈ Although, at your first meeting, Jay could have laughed at you for your height. Like, who are you, a child or a dwarf?

☆ ┈ Very soon he will be ashamed of it, and if you mention it, he will scream in shame and start asking you for forgiveness without stopping.

☆ ┈ Jay most likely fell in love with you when you first met, but don't understand it himself.

☆ ┈ For him, you are someone unrealistically cute because of your small stature, he will often mention it, but in the most parts he pretending it's all a joke.

☆ ┈ He likes how short you are. He always hugs you in a difficult situation, he copes with stress this way and feels more comfortable. You are his antistress, in a good way.

☆ ┈ Edna will cook for you everything that contains foods that are useful for growth. It's not because she doesn't like your height or anything, she just genuinely thinks you're vitamin deficient. Ed and Jay won't be able to talk her out of it, so suck it up lol.

☆ ┈ Jay is still a tame partner, but he protects you more. Yes, you are a ninja like him and everything like that, but what if you get hurt in a fight?Just let him be by your side, please?

☆ ┈ It can be repulsive, and if he notices it, he will stop following you everywhere, although he will still check on you over time. He's going crazy with longing and excitement, but he prefers not to tell you this.

☆ ┈ Guy just afraid that something bad might happen to you..Don't forget to tell him that you can take care of yourself, it calms him down a little.

— "Do you love me?"

— "We're literally dating!"

— "Yeah, but as friends or-"

KAI:

☆ ┈ Although he won't show it to you, but he's just happy.

☆ ┈ Are you someone handsome, short and strong at the same time?Damn, you are literally his ideal!

☆ ┈ He sincerely believes that he should be a hero to you. His dream is that one day you will get into trouble, and he will be the one to help you. It's something for him..romantic.

☆ ┈ Kai always strives to present himself as the best ninja in your eyes. After all, he has to look presentable in his partner eyes!

☆ ┈ So expect him to often do something for you just to hear your praise. Although he sometimes does not understand it himself, he is literally fascinated by you. Kai has a great contrast in behavior with his partner.

☆ ┈ He is passionate but gentle with his partner. He often flirts with you and likes to touch you, but he also likes to be romantic with you, calling you sweetly and hugging you.

☆ ┈ In front of ninja fans, he always praises you, and if anyone tries to deny his praise, Kai would be really mad at them.

☆ ┈ In the original, Kai loves attention and wants to have a perfect reputation, but in a relationship with you, he focuses his attention more on you.

☆ ┈ You and Nya are best friends!Kai is constantly trying to protect you, but the two of you are still running forward towards dangers. Poor Kai…

☆ ┈ In battle, you act as a unit, you fight without problems, helping each other. You can say that you have a balance in your actions.

☆ ┈ A random idea that came to my mind: one day, you and Nya put dye in Kai's hair gel. In the morning, he didn't notice one and smeared it on his hair, which caused it to stain, and you and Nya watched it. As a result, the two of you had to run away from him, although you were more lucky because because of your short stature you hid under the sofa, but Nya was quickly caught...

☆ ┈ You are just a couple in love :3

— "Did I tell you that I love you?"

— "Yeah, right now."

— "Good."

ZANE:

☆ ┈ It's not like Zane cares about your height, but he finds you cute.

☆ ┈ Like with a tall reader, he wants to make sure that your height does not cause you problems. The least he would want is for his partner to be upset about their height.

☆ ┈ Loves physical affection very much. Of course, Zane can verbally plunge you into the ocean of love, but there is something about when he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his arms.

☆ ┈ You most likely fell in love with each other at the same time. You liked him because he was cute and funny with you, and he liked you for your personality.

☆ ┈ Sometimes you are both dependent on each other for something. He needs your help if something is wrong with him, and you need his help when you have problems because of your height.

☆ ┈ Zane is a gentle lover. He will never be able to tell you anything that could offend you. Zane loves to see you smile, to see how happy you are when you are doing what you love, and etc.

☆ ┈ I think Zane will often ask you to cook with him. Basically, you're just helping, he doesn't trust you with knives and a stove a bit, so you can do something basic. We all know that Zane is a damn good cook, but he is especially pleased to hear compliments about his food from you.

☆ ┈ He will support you in any of your hobbies, just tell him about it! (as long as it doesn't cross the line, of course)

☆ ┈ I think it would be a very nice dynamic: a tall, calm guy and his short partner, bonus points if you, reader, is chaotic or very active. Although these are just my personal ideas.

☆ ┈ Congratulations, you got a caring, sweet robot boyfriend!

— "We've been hugging for two hours."

— "Do you want to get up?"

— "No."

COLE:

☆ ┈ Jeez, hope someone will help you...

☆ ┈ Cole is the tallest, so against his background you look like a little person next to the Eiffel Tower.

☆ ┈ He loves physical affection. Holding your hands, hugging you while he completely blocks you with his body, or lifting you up in a wedding style to kiss you is everything for him.

☆ ┈ Cole adores you, adores your height, and adores feeling when you get mad at him for teasing you.

☆ ┈ He is most likely much stronger than you, so he always tries to be careful with you, because he is afraid of accidentally harming you. At first you didn't understand why he was so careful with you, but then yoy just got used to it.

☆ ┈ Cole is still a watchdog for you, so no one can bother you, and if one of the ninjas does it (cough and look at Kai and Jay), then don't let them wonder why there will be stones everywhere in their things.

☆ ┈ As with tall reader, he will do his best to make a good impression on you. Even if it's dumb stuff..

☆ ┈ Likes to do things for you. There are times when Cole just decides to help you with something easy, he doesn't even try to explain himself.

☆ ┈ I imagine how you often dance with each other, but sometimes because of your height difference, you can trip over him and you both can fall. I hope he doesn't run over you…

☆ ┈ When you sleep together, you lie on top of him, because he is afraid that if you sleep next to him during sleep, he may lie on top of you and pin you to the bed.

☆ ┈ Perfect dynamic: the tallest ninja and the shortest ninja.

— "Could you stop trying to pick me up?It's start getting annoying."

— "Nooope."

— "Why?.."

— "You look funny when I do that."

..:*･ﾟ☆.｡.:*･ﾟﾞ｡.:*･ﾟ☆.｡.:*･ﾟ🌤

🌤 — another request done, yipee

[wikiangela]

through the good, the bad, and the gross

rating: G words: 1.8k summary: Tommy assures his boyfriend that he doesn't look gross, even with the boils on his face.

[read on Ao3]

“You really don’t think I’m totally gross and disgusting?” Evan asks skeptically, a pout on his pretty lips, as soon as the door closes behind Eddie.  “No, honey, I don’t.” Tommy answers, somewhat genuinely, the boils on Evan’s pretty face trying really hard to get his attention – but his focus is his pretty blue, sad eyes. He still thinks Evan is the most adorable person on the planet, and mostly he’s just concerned about whatever’s happening to his boyfriend. Who is very much not cursed. “You’re still as pretty as always, I promise.” “Really?” Evan levels him with a look, still doubtful. “You heard me.” Tommy shrugs, watches as Evan gets up from his seat, then rounds the table to stand in front of Tommy. “I’d never lie to you.”  “Okay. Then kiss me,” he says, tone challenging, like he’s trying to prove a point. “What?”  “If you really don’t think I’m gross.” Evan shrugs, then pouts, giving Tommy his best pleading face. “I want a kiss from my boyfriend in my time of distress.” He sighs dramatically, and Tommy can’t help the laugh that escapes him. Adorable. “You’re impossible,” he says, aware that he can’t hide a huge, fond smile. “I have no problem kissing you, babe.” He stands up from his seat at the table. “Even when I look like this?”

“Come here.” Tommy rolls his eyes, steps into Evan’s space, grabs his chin, and plants a sweet, chaste kiss on his lips. He feels Evan smile, his hands settling on Tommy’s hips. Just as Tommy is about to pull away, Evan’s grip tightens, and his tongue slips into Tommy’s lips. He can’t help a fond chuckle, his boyfriend always so eager and hungry with his kisses. As always, he reciprocates just as intensely, pulling at Evan’s lip with his teeth, before licking into his lips, Evan tilting his head for a better angle- and then Tommy feels something weird touch the side of his face – it feels warm and hard and lump-like, and he recoils and jumps back on instinct, without even thinking about it. He’s met with Evan’s confused expression.

“I think it touched me.” Tommy mutters, not able to hide a shudder, and Evan scoffs, then pouts again, crossing his arms. In Tommy’s defense – it’s an infection, and felt kind of disgusting on his skin, sue him.

“So you do think I’m gross,” he accuses, going as far as to point a finger at Tommy. 

“Sweetheart, you’re not gross. These-” he vaguely gestures at Evan’s face, “these are a little gross, I’m sorry.” He says apologetically, and Evan’s pout deepens, his bottom lip pushed out to the max, his sad eyes make Tommy want to go back in time a minute and force himself to not jump away. It wasn’t that bad anyway, just… surprising, mostly. Though he should’ve expected that, kissing his boyfriend when he looks like this. “And what if it’s contagious?” He adds, having wondered about this before. He forgot to ask Eddie about it, damn.

“I can’t infect you with a curse.” Evan rolls his eyes, now looking mildly annoyed.

“Evan.” Tommy sighs, giving Evan a look that hopefully conveys equally the fondness and slight exasperation he feels.

“Actually,” Evan adds, suddenly dead serious, “if the curse is contagious, better not risk you and your gorgeous face, either.” He takes a step back, creating distance between them.

“You’re being ridiculous.” Tommy shakes his head, chuckling lightly. “You’re lucky I love you.” He sighs, feeling the softest, most loving smile stretch his lips, and doesn’t register his words until a few seconds later, Evan’s eyes, as well as his smile, widening. The thing is, he didn’t mean to tell his boyfriend he loves him for the first time while Evan’s face is covered in nasty boils and he’s being dramatic about it and convinced he’s cursed. But, well, Tommy does love him. With all the intensity, hyperfixations and late-night research binges, ridiculousness and beliefs in curses and such, and even all the boils included. He loves Evan, so much it makes him dizzy sometimes. And saying it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“You do?” Evan breathes out, blue eyes sparkling happily, an awed expression on his face. Tommy suddenly wonders how in the world he managed to not say it much sooner, if this is the expression he gets. Even if it’s accompanied by boils.

“Yeah. Of course I do.” Tommy takes a step towards Evan, reaches out to grab his hand and intertwine their fingers. “I love you, honey. Boils and all.” He adds with an amused smile, and Evan snorts.

“Really?” He asks, still a little skeptically, but Tommy knows it’s about the boils comment, not about whether Tommy loves him. He’d hope by now his boyfriend trusts him enough to know he’s one hundred percent truthful.

“Evan, how many times do I have to-” Tommy starts, rolling his eyes fondly, but gets interrupted mid-word.

“I love you, too.” Evan blurts out quickly, squeezing his hand, as if suddenly realizing he didn’t say it back. “I really, really do.”

“Good.” Tommy leans in for another kiss, but this time it’s Evan who leans away.

“I really want to kiss you, but I’m so gross.”

“I don’t care.” Tommy shrugs.

“Oh, so you’re not even denying it anymore?” Evan tries to pout again, but he can’t hide the happy smile on his face.

“You won’t believe me anyway. Those do not look good.” Tommy scrunches his nose as he looks over the bumps all over his man. It’s not that bad, truly. Tommy is mostly concerned. But he’d be lying if he said those don’t look nasty. Also, he never passes up an opportunity to tease his man. “But I love you anyway,” he whispers, and Evan’s expression melts into the softest, most adoring expression.

“You know, I kinda wanted to say it first.”

“Well, you should’ve hurried up.” Tommy shrugs, tone deadpan, but Evan laughs anyway.

“That’s okay. There’s more firsts I can beat you to,” he teases.

“You know it’s not a competition, right?” Tommy chuckles when his boyfriend shrugs, a playful smirk on his face. “Come here,” he repeats, leaning in again to capture Evan’s lips, and this time when he feels the boil touch him he tries really hard not to react. But he must react somehow, because Evan pulls away with a groan. He then buries his face in Tommy’s neck, and Tommy tries really hard to stay still feeling the bumps through his t-shirt and on his bare skin.

“I hate this, I feel disgusting.” Evan says, voice muffled.

“You’re still the most handsome, hot, beautiful, adorable man ever to me.” Tommy assures, his hand softly caressing over Evan’s back. And he’s a thousand percent sincere.

“You’re just saying that.” He grumbles, but Tommy can feel his lips curve into a smile against Tommy’s neck. A chuckle rumbles through Tommy’s chest. His boyfriend never passes an opportunity to fish for compliments and reassurances – and Tommy always happily indulges him.

“No, I swear, I really think so.” Tommy gently pushes Evan away just enough to look at his face, and can’t resist pressing a chaste kiss to his adorable pout. “You need me to say it again?” He teases, his fingers lightly grabbing Evan’s chin.

“Yes, please.” Evan pushes his lower lip even more forward, and Tommy laughs, and has to kiss him again, mostly successfully ignoring the growths on his man’s face. It truly doesn’t matter what he looks like. He’ll always be the most beautiful person in the world in Tommy’s eyes. “Don’t laugh, I’m suffering here.” Evan narrows his eyebrows, clearly trying to appear mock-angry and failing.

“Sorry.” Tommy shakes his head. “Listen to me.” His voice drops a little, he licks his lips and watches Evan’s eyes follow the movement. “I think, always and yes, even now, that you are,” he presses a kiss to Evan’s lips, his hands settling on Evan’s hips, “the most gorgeous,” he whispers into the kiss, before pressing another one to a spot on Evan’s jaw, “the cutest,” he traces his lips lower, venturing to the neck, grateful that the boils have only taken residence on his face, “hottest,” he sinks his teeth into the skin lightly, before soothing it with another kiss, accompanied by Evan’s sharp inhale followed by a pleased sigh, his breathing quickening a bit, one hand finding its way to Tommy’s hair, “sexiest,” he purrs with another kiss, “most beautiful man in the world,” he leans away again to look into Evan’s eyes. He finds him staring back, pupils blown wide, those pretty pink lips slightly open, and Tommy knows that expression so well, and he smirks, once again amazed that he can get him like this in just a few kisses. “And I’m as insanely attracted to you as always.” He finishes, watches as Evan’s eyes roam over his body.

“Yeah?” Evan swallows audibly, licks his lips. “How insanely?”

“Oh, you want a demonstration?” Tommy raises his eyebrow, as if it’s unexpected – like he hasn’t been intending to get this result from the moment he started speaking, which he very much was. He’s pretty sure they both were.

“Mhm, yes, please.” Evan nods, a smug but amused smile spreading on his face. “Just wanna make sure.”

“Alright, sweetheart.” Tommy presses one more short but lingering kiss to Evan’s lips, crowding him against the table and making him lean against it. “I can assure you. All day and night long if I have to.” He adds, smirking, as he drops down to his knees, his hands immediately on Evan’s belt. Evan chuckles breathlessly. 

“Works for me.” 

And if the next morning, when the boils get worse, and Evan needs a little more reassurance, Tommy is definitely not complaining – though they both agree to limit kissing, not wanting to risk it, but Evan pouts about it only a little bit, because, well, there are other parts of Evan Tommy can get his hands and lips on. He’s praying to Billy Boils to lift the curse as soon as possible, though, because he does miss kissing his man’s pretty face.

[also on Ao3]

[aimedis]

gavin & freelancer headcanons ♂🎀

"you're my sky, deviant.. the space between my stars..."

gavin and freelancer are nonsense by sabrina carpenter

gavin and freelancer go on walks every so often and pick flowers to put in each other’s hair and they giggle like little kids 

sometimes when freelancer does anything gavin finds remotely cute, he just softly kisses all over their face.

gavin never fails to fluster freelancer by flirting with them

however, for an incubus, gavin gets flustered quite easily. freelancer ruffles his hair and kisses the tip of his nose? he's blushing. freelancer tells him he's beautiful? he's blushing. freelancer laughs a little too hard at a joke he made? he's fucking blushing

they get insufferable if they’re not around each other for more than a day

they can have little conversations without actually saying anything, just by making little faces at each other (damien sees them do it all the time and he's so confused)

freelancer likes wrapping their fingers around gavin’s pinkie (when they’re on dates, at home, in bed, while hanging out with the gang etc.) and gavin thinks it’s cute as hell

whenever freelancer feels uncomfortable or hurt by anything, they almost never say anything about it. they just ignore whatever it was by laughing and move on

gavin can tell (because he's a demon but also because he's just that observant with them) and stops what he's doing immediately to figure out what's wrong

caelum likes asking freelancer about gavin because of the smile that overtakes their face when talking about him

gavin feels like a part of him is missing when freelancer is gone for too long (and immediately returns to normal after they return) ((damn squad witnessed how bored he was the entire two days they were away once and the second he saw them again, he was all smiles))

freelancer also gets really down whenever gavin is away from them for too long (dear deadass thought they were depressed the first time they witnessed it but gavin hugged them once and they were back to normal)

freelancer and gavin have necklaces with the other’s initial/name on it 

sometimes gavin lays awake at night just staring lovingly at freelancer while they sleep, admiring how far they’ve come and how he got so lucky with them (canon)

freelancer’s hand is always on gavin’s chest (when they’re cuddling, tapping him to get his attention, pushing him away when he’s being annoying or just touching and feeling up on it)

gavin is a clingy baby when he’s half asleep and freelancer always laughs at him

freelancer is also really clingy when they're tired and gavin makes fun of them too

gavin is scared of spiders (i believe that many demons are scared of bugs) and freelancer has to kill them

"grown ass demon scared of a little bug, everyone"

they bully each other lovingly all the time

freelancer never fucking drinks water, gavin always has to remind them

freelancer is always in gavin's lap

the crew always jokes that they "wish someone would look at me the way gavin looks at freelancer" (he looks at them with heart eyes i swear)

i will never stop thinking about how many people's lives were saved because freelancer and gavin love each other that much

gavin is always trying to distract freelancer from studying or doing their homework (he hides their textbook) 

gavin and freelancer both take any opportunity to slap/fondle the other’s ass

freelancer has a habit of saying "is it casual?" whenever gavin kisses or does something romantic for/to them and gavin hates it so much because it is very much not casual

they argue every once in a while, mostly small pet peeves (such as gavin leaving his shoes everywhere, freelancer's lack of self-care, just getting annoyed with each other) that escalate into bigger fights

they usually resolve them quickly just by talking because the both of them are excellent communicators

they don't ever yell at each other when they're angry

however, freelancer gets very petty when they're mad and they can stay mad for a while. so even when they're no longer fighting with him, they can stay angry (pouty) for like an hour

gavin doesn't mind, he knows they're not really upset and he takes the opportunity to tease them

sometimes gavin scolds freelancer for not caring about their health or their personal needs. he does it very gently while rubbing their back or massaging some part of their body and without sounding like a parent. freelancer pouts the entire time but they try to listen to him i was in such a specific mood when i wrote this oh my god

both of them get babied by the other when one is having a bad day (or even just for no reason)

freelancer bakes for gavin whenever he's upset or stressed. gavin loves eating freelancer's desserts

freelancer loves teaching gavin children's hand games (like rock paper scissors, patty cake etc.) and they have a handshake

the first time gavin witnessed afab!freelancer on their period, he genuinely thought they were going to die

freelancer isn't allowed to say "it's because you hate me and want me to die" even as a joke (because gavin will get upset, he takes their mortality so seriously)

whenever freelancer laughs, gavin stops just to stare at them with the fondest look in his eyes

freelancer calls gavin a lovesick puppy. gavin wears the name with pride

gavin's eyes glow pink ever so slightly whenever he talks to or thinks about freelancer

freelancer gets irritated quite easily and doesn't even realize it sometimes. gavin finds it funny and just nudges them a little to whisper, "you're so mad right now"

they make out at least three times a day

everytime they're in the pool at damien and huxley's house, they're kissing away in a corner because "he's so sexy with water all of over his body" (the crew is so tired of them)

they're borderline codependent (not in an unhealthy way), freelancer comes home early from classes all the time because they miss gavin

gavin gives freelancer anything they want. if they want snacks or an item or need something fixed, he has it done before they can even finish the sentence. they mention something once and suddenly there's twenty of them on the counter

no matter how many times he does this, freelancer is still surprised

gavin has all of freelancer's favourite songs memorized because they're always singing around him

freelancer forgets they have magic sometimes and asks gavin to grab things for them. gavin taps their head lightly to demonstrate their psychokinesis for a while until they go "oh" and laugh

freelancer says "i love you" for everything, they use it almost as sentence filler

they are both such homebodies (when gavin's not looking for some poor soul to fluster)

gavin helps freelancer dye their hair all the time

freelancer says gavin's name a hundred times a day (he counted) ((it's because they 'gavin' like 10 times at once to get his attention))

it's worse on text (they spam his name)

freelancer used to s3lf-h4rm and they relapsed right after the inversion. gavin always found them and cleaned them up while reassuring them he wasn't mad and they deserved to heal

they feel so comfortable and safe with each other, they don't ever hide their struggles/relapses. always seek the other out for help and comfort

they go on double dates with damien and huxley all the time

freelancer loves making gavin try their favourite foods

gavin loves telling freelancer they're funny

[bloop-bl00p]

In defense of Octavia

TW: Lots of Trauma Dumping, Mention of abuse

She’s been wronged way too many times in this fandom for some reason. Look at her vibing, how can you hate her?

I’m a fan of Helluva Boss, mainly because of its potential but the quality dropped dead in the second season. We’re gonna talk about a character I’ve seen other fans misinterpreting in favor of the so-great Prince Stolass.

I want to talk about her mainly because I do what I want and because after studying her character I just realized that she’s just like me. Especially regarding her relationship with her father, I see myself in my younger years.

All of that to say…

She has all the right to feel abandoned.

Octavia obliviously has a stronger bond with her father, it shows in her behavior and little background details

When she wants to draw her family, she draws her and Stolas, we mostly see her being happy with him which leads me to think that she’s emotionally neglected by Stella. To her, Octavia is just an ‘egg’ that fell off her and she doesn't care about the impact killing Stolas could have on her daughter.

Despite being emotionally absent, Stella has a much more physical presence than Stolas. Most of the time Stolas is alone in his castle which leads me to think that Octavia is somewhere else with Stella. They did mention the two went on a weekend somewhere. This leads us to this question…

How can Octavia feel more close to her father?

Here’s the thing, I see a lot of my family dynamic here. My mom doesn’t pay attention to me at all, she doesn't want me to bother her and she makes it clear. My dad, however, who’s absent like 90% of the time, always tried to spare time with me. He explained to me that he was working and why he was doing all of this (I was like barely ten) but it never prevented him from trying to play with me, sharing his hobbies, going on a walk, and else.

He was there emotionally and, as a kid who was bullied, had no friends at all, and a mother who didn't give a damn, I cherished this relationship.

I believe the exact same thing happened with Octavia, we never see her with friends or even outside the castle, she’s isolated. Stolas has Prince duties, we’ve seen him carry them in the shows, hence why he’s mostly absent leaving her with her mother. But, at least when she was a kid, he tried to do stuff bringing her to Loo-Loo Land or being the one to comfort her. That is why she clings to her father, he’s the only one who actually shows her love and she’s terrified of losing that.

Regarding her mother, Stella obliviously doesn't care about her so the feeling is reciprocated. From a narrative standpoint, Stella is an unpredictable force of nature getting angry for pretty much anything that doesn't go her way. So Octativa learned to not cross her mother's path.

I know this expression, this is the “Oh fuck… they’re at it again?” she’s used to her mother's constant screaming, she's used to her parents fighting.

She did say they were a time when a parent didn't hate each other, which to me refers to the time when Stolas tanked Stella’s abuse. But, that doesn’t mean that Stella wasn't abusing him in front of a younger Octavia, she’s erratic and they did imply that she can get physical in her toxic behavior. Since Stella was passive, it was probably mostly harmful comments.

Putting personal things here, my mom was also very abusive to my older sibling. Since I was extremely young I learned not to ‘be a burden’ to avoid being abused as well, which includes things like not talking to her unless she does it first. Whether Octavia is aware of the physical abuse or not, she must know enough to know that it’s a bad idea to annoy Stella.

This is the only picture where we see her seemingly having a good relationship with Stolas, which to me feels like she’s faking it considering all we know about the family.

She has a pretty shitty household but her relationship with her father make it bearable until Stolas did a 180°

He randomly started to prioritize Blitz and don’t spill me the bullshit of ‘he’s trying’ he stopped trying long ago.

Let’s analyze this episode by episode:

In Loo Loo Land, Stolas seemingly tries to rebuild a visibly strained relationship with his daughter by bringing her to a park she liked when she was a kid. To this, she immediately responds with an “I’m not 5 anymore.” and an “I rather kill myself.” There’s no room for miscommunication, she doesn't want to go there, and she won’t enjoy it as much as she did back then. Still, he decides to go there, showing that he doesn't listen, and, he brings the one the thing that is currently ruining his already horrible marriage because of his own actions. Blitzø.

He’s trying to spend time with his daughter after a long time (this is mentioned in the episode) and he decides to bring in that one guy he’s hooking up with to deliberately make sexual remarks about him in front of her.

She’s uncomfortable the whole time, not just because she allegedly doesn’t like listening to her father's comments but because she doesn't like the park. She said it, yet Stolas doesn't acknowledge it, he doesn't realize the faces she makes which are to me pretty communicative of her annoyance and discomfort.

This is not even subtle body language, yet he only notices it when she runs off. The worst part is that he still finds a way to think about Blitzø when his daughter leaves.

He looked upset that Blitzø didn't follow him! Did he expect that guy to pursue him constantly? He was in the middle of an argument with his daughter, I personally would have stepped away to give them space to talk and reconcile. But no, apparently Blitzø should be at his beck and call all the time.

But you know what, after all of this. He still apologized. That absolutely does not negate everything he did during the day but, at the end of it, he finally listened to her and even brought her to a place she actually wanted to be. Which is good, he acknowledged her discomfort and did something she liked.

Until Seeing Star.

Look I know Stolas was busy with Stella but he clearly doesn't care about her and her stuff.

Don’t tell me he couldn’t pinpoint Stella’s location with magic and teleport all of her belongings to her. Their discussion was barely about the furniture, he could have said that they were gonna be delivered and hung up the second he saw Octavia. Arguing with Stella is pointless, he’s the number one guy that should know that! Why does he continue to insult her, he’s just fuelling the fire!

Moving out her belongings would have been 10 times faster if he just hung up the phone, then he could have had a more mindful talk with Octavia without the constant bickering of his ex-wife.

But he didn't for some reason, fair enough, I guess. The writers do whatever they want. Anyway, Octavia got angry and ran to go see the stars on her own.

So, Stolas’ castle is in Pride but my point still stands, Octavia had the time to run from home and make the way all from her father's place to the city, find the specific building Blitzø held his organization in and Stolas didn't notice a thing.

You cannot tell me Stella managed to get his attention for that long AND you cannot tell me that his castle is close to the shitty disaffected building and the populace. His daughter ran off and he did not notice a thing.

Not only that but he has the nerve of blaming Blitzø for not watching the book. Like, dude! You should have watched your daughter instead!

Then he spills out more bullshit.

I don’t know Stolas, how could you possibly find her when you were shown to have countless abilities to do so?

Like bubbles projecting the image and locations of people.

Or that on time when you possessed corpses and one woman just to go full eldritch monstrosity just for one that one guy you’re cheating your wife with. And don’t whine about “They don’t love each other.” it’s still affecting his family, mainly his daughter so it’s still bad.

Of course, you do all of that without your grimoire without any problem, brushing it off with a…

I guess he forgot his ‘ways’ when it came to Octavia. But honestly, Loona literally found her easily just by looking at her Instagram account, couldn't he just call her or something? The girl had her phone the whole time and he didn't just think of calling her.

Me when I forget that I have teleportation power when I am in an enclosed space with nobody is looking.

You’re certainly not worrying right now. Via literally told him to his face that she was scared and he kept flirting with him even though he once again caused her to run away because of his neglect.

He’s not trying his best, THIS IS NOT TRYING!

No Loona, his daughter communicated very clearly issues related to their relationship, rather than reassuring her and being there for her as much as it’s realistically possible (he still has duties to carry), he gets in an avoidable petty fight with his ex and keeps an unhealthy dynamics with an imp he's been obsessing over. He doesn't focus, his priorities aren’t straight, and now Octavia feels abandoned.

I did mention that I had a good relationship with my father back then, but it stopped abruptly. His focus changed and he went out with friends after work and gradually stopped spending time with me. Until we never spent time together again, (to give you an idea the only moment where I could see him was in the morning for breakfast) now that can sound silly but I was a child, with no friends and a neglectful mom, losing the only good thing I had in life broke me. I knew his schedule, I knew he was spending time with work buddies and that just stung my self-esteem even more leaving me feeling like a burden when I was just a kid who wanted to feel love.

This is why I don’t like the “He’s trying.” I know what a trying struggling parent looks like and I know what happens when they stop. If you keep trying to do something and you’re constantly failing, either your technique isn’t the right one or you’re not and you’re convincing yourself you are.

And then there are people that’ll tell me that “He lived through the abuse of Stella for years for her.”

If you read all of this then I don’t feel like I need to explain how Octavia was at least partially exposed to Stella's toxic behavior and was affected by it.

For those who don’t know how it feels to live with an erratic mood-swinging person, it’s pure constant stress. You have to think constantly before you talk or move because you know that if you fuck up you’re gonna pay the price. And if you still eventually mess up you can never know with these types of people! You can’t defend yourself because the punishment will be far worse. You are ALWAYS in the wrong.

So he lived through the abuse of Stella just so his daughter could get neglected and abused in a less physical way?

The difference between my parents and Octavia is that they love each other. Stolas doesn't give a damn about Stella, he did say he was nice at first because he empathized with her they were in this shitty situation together, and fine, it's reasonable. But she never changed! Stella stayed the same! Why didn’t he leave her when he stopped carrying about her?! There’s no trauma bounding, Stella isn’t guilt-tripping or manipulating him, they got the child he could have divorced her easily without consequences! If anything, she’s the losing part of this divorce she’s lower in the hierarchy! “Andreaphul will get angry.” HE’S A MARQUIS! Hierarchically speaking Stolas is far more important and he mopes the floor with his peacock ass!

Am I supposed to be empathetic with that one dude who willingly let his daughter grow up in a hyper-toxic environment with an emotionally neglectful and unpredictable wife?! Am I supposed to believe he cares when he kept sleeping in his house in his bed with the same guy his daughter clearly is worried he’s going to leave her with?! Really?!

Don’t ever tell me that this is trying.

[solarmorrigan]

You know how cats seem to have an innate sense of when you’re about to get up, and they choose that exact moment to sit down on your lap? And no sooner have they made themselves comfortable than you realize that you have to go to the bathroom, or someone calls you over, or the phone starts ringing, and you have to shove the poor cat off your lap?

That’s basically Eddie’s sex life right now.

Well alright, no, not entirely, but – it’s a component that’s certainly starting to become an irritation.

It’s just that Steve has a wonderful lap.

At least, Eddie assumes it’s wonderful. It’s wonderfully inviting, at the very least; it’s wide enough to offer Eddie (who is not quite as generously endowed in the whole… thighs-ass department, he’ll admit) a good seat, and he’s had his hands on the area often enough to know it’s firm but with just the right amount of give to be very comfortable.

But Eddie’s never actually gotten to spend much time on it.

He doesn’t even mean that in a sexual way (although that much is also true). Every time he’s so much as tried to plop himself down on Steve’s lap to do something as innocent as watch a movie, Steve seems to remember something he needs to get up and do within just a few minutes.

For a little while, Eddie had been worried about what that meant. Did Steve not want to spend time with him? Did Steve not want Eddie near him? Did Steve not find him attractive? Did Steve just find him annoying?

But further time spent together has given Eddie more confidence. Clearly Steve enjoys spending time with him—submits to it willingly and often—and does find Eddie annoying but in a way he enjoys. Steve also most definitely finds Eddie attractive (and, in fact, has no trouble at all spending extended time on Eddie’s lap). So at this point, it’s more of a puzzle. A frustration.

It can’t be that Eddie’s too heavy for him; Eddie isn’t a small guy, really, but he isn’t huge, either. He’s seen Steve push and pull bigger people around – hell, he’s seen Steve carry Mike a good ways through the woods and back to the car after the kid had slipped and twisted his ankle when they’d been out walking (an incident which none of them are allowed to speak of ever, for varying reasons of blackmail and dignity), and he’s not too much smaller than Eddie.

Eddie is nothing if not a direct sort of guy, though – if he’s thinking something, he’s going to say it. This is mostly because he has very little brain-to-mouth filter, but he’s learned to make it part of his image. He’s pretty sure it works for him.

All of this to say that one afternoon, as they make out on Steve’s couch, Eddie freshly settled on Steve’s lap, Eddie decides to just… ask.

He waits until he can feel Steve’s hands sliding down around his thighs—not groping, but with the intent to move him—before he pulls back to say anything.

“Hey,” he says—gasps, really, still a little breathless with his attempt to seize the opportunity, “question.”

Steve blinks up at him, startled. “Uh. Shoot.”

“Do you not like it, when I sit on your lap? Because it kinda seems like you find other places to be when I try to make that happen.”

If Steve had been startled before, that’s nothing on how he looks now. He covers it in an instant, but Eddie’s seen it; Steve’s good, he’s very good, but Eddie is literally right in his face.

“What?” Steve pulls back, brows drawn in confusion. “No. Why would I have a problem with you being in my lap?”

Eddie shrugs. “Not a damn clue. That’s why I figured I’d ask. It’s just that whenever I get myself settled here, you suddenly remember you have to get up.”

“I don’t do that,” Steve scoffs, throwing in a good-natured eye roll.

“You kinda do, babe,” Eddie says, keeping it light; this isn’t an argument, nor an accusation – it’s literally just a question, and he doesn’t want to scare Steve off.

“So you’re saying, that every time I have my boyfriend on my lap – a guy I find insanely hot, by the way,” Steve’s hand slide back up Eddie’s thighs, edging towards his ass, and this time he’s groping, “you’re saying I don’t want him there, is that right?”

Eddie’s resolve almost breaks as Steve stares up at him with his ridiculous, pretty eyes (he’s good, he’s very good, Eddie will give him that) and tugs him closer with his ridiculous, strong hands, but he knows Steve is lying. He knows it.

He just doesn’t know why.

And isn’t that interesting? Eddie wouldn’t exactly call Steve an open book, but they know each other pretty well by now; Eddie can usually read Steve, but he has no idea what he’s thinking just at the moment.

So he decides to allow it.

He’ll see where it goes.

“Hm,” Eddie hums, as if he’s thinking. “That does sound a little silly, if you put it like that.”

“Completely silly.” Steve grins up at him, but there’s a thread of very genuine sincerity in what he says next. “Of course I want you here.”

And Eddie’s not sure what to say to that, so he leans back in to kiss Steve again.

And for a while, it’s fine. Great, even. Steve is a very good kisser, after all, and Eddie likes to think he’s no slouch himself, and a good time is being had by all, except before too long Eddie can feel Steve starting to tense up under him.

Once again, Eddie doesn’t mean this in a sexual way.

It’s not the fun, anticipatory kind of tensing, but the ready to run or punch something kind of tensing. The kind of tension that comes from a threat, not from having your boyfriend on your lap.

Eddie waits to see if Steve will do anything, say anything, but he does nothing. His kisses grow more distracted, quicker and shallower, but he doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t push Eddie away.

It’s when Steve starts shaking that Eddie gives up.

“Okay,” Eddie pulls away, shifting himself to the side so he doesn’t have more than an ankle draped over Steve’s legs, “what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean, what’s wrong? You’re the one who pulled away,” Steve snaps.

“Yeah, because it feels like you don’t want me up there,” Eddie shoots back.

Steve rolls his eyes again, irritated this time. “What, you don’t like it if I don’t let you sit on my lap, you don’t like it if I do let you sit on my lap– What the fuck do you want from me?”

“Maybe just the goddamn truth.”

Whatever Eddie expects, it isn’t for Steve to just… stare at him.

He stares at Eddie for a good five seconds in full silence before shaking his head. “No,” he says quietly, “you don’t want that.”

His sudden reticence only sparks Eddie’s irritation. “Don’t tell me what I do or don’t want, Steve. You don’t want to tell me, that’s on you, but don’t decide for me what I don’t want to know.”

“Well what do you think you’re going to hear, Eddie, huh?” Steve barks. “What do you want to hear? You wanna hear how Billy Hargrove sat on me – pinned me down while he beat me unconscious? Or you wanna hear how it felt to be handcuffed to a fucking chair while some Russians– while they– how it felt to be held down and not be able to stop them from doing anything?”

Steve has stood up now, pacing in front of Eddie, and Eddie wishes he could do anything other than fucking stare while his boyfriend has some kind of breakdown that he started.

“Or – or how about how I ruined multiple dates, or hookups, or whatevers when someone tried to sit themselves down on top of me and I damn near shoved them off onto the floor and then had to make up some dumb fucking excuse and run out on them before I had some kind of fucking panic attack? You wanna hear all that?” Steve demands, rounding back on Eddie. “No! You don’t… you don’t want to hear that.”

“Steve… no, I don’t wanna hear all that,” Eddie says, and hurries on when he can see Steve practically crumple in on himself, “I don’t want to hear that all that horrible shit has happened to you, but I need to.”

“Wh– what?”

“You don’t… I mean, you don’t have to give me specifics if you don’t want, but I need to know what might set you off so I don’t accidentally do it, okay?” Eddie says. “It fucking terrifies me that you went through all that, and I know I can’t do anything about it, but I’m at least not going to be one more thing that makes you hurt. I’m gonna make damn sure of that.”

“…Oh.”

It’s clearly not what Steve was expecting to hear, and for a moment he shifts uncertainly in front of Eddie. He wraps his arms around himself before seeming to think better of it and crossing them over his chest instead. Eddie wants nothing more than to draw him close and hold him, but Steve’s not quite ready yet.

“I’m not… I didn’t want to say anything. I don’t want it to be an issue,” Steve finally says.

I don’t want you to treat me differently, he doesn’t say.

“Then we won’t make it an issue.” Eddie shrugs. “You got some kind of trauma associated with sitting on other people, or can you come back over here to me?”

Steve blinks at Eddie, startled, before he gives in to a little huff of laughter, slowly crossing back over to the couch.

“You’re an ass,” he says, all fondness.

“Mm, so I’ve been told,” Eddie says, aiming a smug smile up at Steve as Steve settles himself right over Eddie’s lap. “And yet, here you are.”

“Yeah…” Steve leans in, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Eddie’s mouth, quirking a little smile as he pulls away. “Here I am.”

[ladey]

Jinx x princess typa reader?

Also ur fics r rlly good :3

BAHA YAS 🎀 also ty 🤭

jinx w/ a polar opposite gf ༯

notes: mostly bullet point format.. expect this from me a lot

-

jinx with with a girlfriend who’s practically like the opposite of her? how unheard of… (not)

jinx def likes the fem girlies and i have no doubt abt it 😋🤞

seeing u in ur little skirts and dresses has her having to restrain herself at times 🫢

but having a significant other who acts as though they always need help and relies on others to do things for them? puh-lease, jinx would roll her eyes at that.

or so she thought 👀

turns out, she LOVES feeling useful and having someone that genuinely wants her help and attention, and isn’t just faking it out of pity or fear of her potentially putting a bullet through them 😊

she calls u princess and doll, obviously.

she’s pleasantly suprised to find out that ur actually quite stern and feisty at times.

even though she loves to act as ur guard dog. she feels so powerful whenever ur cling to her arm and sit on her lap. always keep u close to her side.

but when someone was being obnoxiously rude to u in public, jinx was at ur side ready to have their body slumped in an alleyway when u jumped up and put them in their place with just ur words.

she found that very impressive and sexy.

u would do the exact same for her, too. and she loves u even more for that. it warms her heart to know that u love and care for her just as much as she does for u.

adding onto that, ur very good at getting what u want with just words, tone, and batting ur lashes as u look at the person with classic puppy dog eyes.

“thank you so much, you’re too kind~” you say, playing with your hair and letting out a small giggle as you wear a sickly sweet smile on your dolled up face.

at times it makes jinx jealous, pausing what she’s doing to eye them with a steely glare. ur gentle hand on her arm softens her and soon the worry is out of her mind.

on the off occasion that jinx catches u doing something by urself, like taking care of a wound (which she would try her damn hardest to prevent getting inflicted upon u, and if it does she would be scrambling around and helping u with the gentlest of hands, afraid to break u as though ur porcelain), she would almost seem hurt.

why aren’t u asking her for help? is she no longer useful? are u getting bothered by her? is she getting too annoying? is this the start of a potential break up?!

“hey wait! let me help you with that!” “oi, quit that! what d’ya think you’re doing?”

she’s slapping ur hands out of the way and replacing them with her own.

she LOVES teaching u things she’s good at! it makes her feel important and looked up to.

while teaching u to shoot she’ll tell u the basics and hold your hand while she helps you aim.

“make sure your eye is right on the target. aaand…” BANG!

she’s cheering and spinning as she hugs u tightly to her chest. she praises u, even if u barely hit the middle of the target or u got close only because of her aid.

she loves to see ur improvement be all because of her. it makes her feel so proud 🥹

and ur praises and thanks always coat her cheeks in a blush. while trying to act nonchalant whenever u tell her how good of a teacher she is.

ur little princess-like charms always get her, i mean how could they not? she would do anything for u.

she enjoys making little gifts for u too: crafting cute little homemade necklaces and bracelets that u will cherish forever.

going and stealing items that u wanted so bad while pouting at her with those big eyes.

u too are a couple not to be messed with 😤

-

hope this is ok 🥺

[flametrashiraarchive]

Hi, it says your requests are open! Can I request a nsfw scenario for Giyuu and his crush going to a public bath house, and the receptionist mistakes them for a couple so they have to share a bath.. hehe.. and he gets a boner and tries to hide it?

thanks and feel free to ignore im kind of embarrassed aaaa

AAAAA THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN! Thank you for being my very first ask! I hope you enjoy!

I'll try to work on the other asks tomorrow too! Thank you so much!

NSFW under the cut...

Bathing with Giyuu 💦

You've traveled with the water hashira long enough to know when his quiet stoicism slips into panicked silence. 

To the uninitiated, Giyuu's facial expression is one of dead calm, but his deep blue eyes give away far more than he realizes, and right now he's shitting himself. 

"It'll be fine," you sigh, standing shivering in your yukata. It's morning and the sun has barely begun to warm the world up. "I won't peek. We'll just bathe, get out, and never speak of this again."

You're mostly trying to assure him, but there is a little part of you that's nervous too. It's just a simple mixup; the lady running the bathhouse just mistook you for a married couple and sent you to the same private onsen. And if the pair of you weren't so damn introverted you could probably have the mistake rectified fairly quickly, but the thought of the awkwardness and the apologies... no this is somehow simpler.

Giyuu is already in the bath, submerged up to his shoulders, the steam and clear water doing very little to obscure his… everything. 

He sighs as you shiver and says flatly, "Fine. Get in. But if you tell anyone about this, especially the other hashira…"

"My lips are sealed… turn around."

He does as you ask, turning his back and lowering himself until his chin is touching the water. He stares at the rocks surrounding the edge pool as if they're the most interesting thing in the world.

Your heart races as you slip off your yukata and leave it hanging from a nearby tree. As desperate as you are for this bath, and as much as you tried to brush it off, it is a little weird to be naked with Giyuu.

You quickly get into the water. It only reaches your bellybutton, but you can crouch and fully submerge your body just like he's doing. "Okay, I'm in." 

You expect his shoulders to relax but if anything they get more tense. What little you can see of his face is bright red. "Ugh this was a bad idea."

"It's fine! Come on Giyuu, we've been traveling and fighting demons for days without a break. Everything hurts. I need this bath. If it's so awful sharing with me then you can always get out."

He shakes his head firmly, still looking away. "No. Absolutely not."

"Okay well… let's not make a big deal out of it." It is pretty fun to annoy him so you tease a little. "We're just two unmarried friends, bathing together…naked. Nothing weird about it."

He brings his hand out of the water to pinch the bridge of his nose. You brace yourself for his exasperated reprimand, but in the same heartbeat as he opens his mouth to speak you hear something. You sense movement behind you. 

He hears it too and the pair of you instinctively stand, both on high alert. After days of fighting for your lives against demons, neither one of you can fully relax yet. It takes a moment to realize it's daytime. The demons are all hiding from the sun. You're safe. Your yukata just slipped down from the tree branch.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you turn your head to face him. "Probably just a squirr- oh god!!"

You're naked. He's naked. The water is waist deep on you but he's taller…

And God, he's rock-fucking-hard.

He doesn't speak. He just releases a panicked grunt, attempts to cover himself with both hands, fails to conceal it fully, and dips down to hide beneath the water. 

And you just freeze as your heart lunges against your ribs. That image is burned into your mind forever; his lean, muscular body… the way it curved. The veins…

"Sit down!" He says finally. 

You bring up your arm to cover your tits. "Oh! Right."

As you submerge your body in the water. You're facing each other, both bright red, unable to make eye contact. Your heart is racing and you're pretty sure his must be too.

You're the first to break, your eyes sliding across to him. The corner of your mouth tugs upward.

"Not a word," he whispers.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Giyuu's eyes flicker to you and then away again. 

You can't hold it anymore. A laugh sputters out of you. "We're so ridiculous."

His well-practiced stoicism starts to falter, and a faint smile curves his lips. "Yeah. We are, aren't we?" 

It feels good to laugh; days of tension and exhaustion slip away, rising with the steam of the onsen. And it feels even better to laugh with him.