#also not that 'not knowing the ending' is like. a crucial part to enjoying something | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tswhiisftteedr · 9 months ago

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Heyyyy, could you do a oneshot f!reader x Zestial nsfw pretty please ? 🙏

Tea Salon ☆ One Shot

Zestial x Salon Owner Sinner!Fem!Reader:

A young woman with big dreams ready to be achieve was what you were, after making a deal with Overlord Rosie you soon found out that your Salon wasn't the only thing that would bloom in your afterlife...

Warning: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Honestly Nothing Kinky, Husband and wife, Praise kink, Creampie, Oral(Female receiving), Old English, NOT PROOFREAD.

Words: 5907

Note: okay if you know anything about business, I am so sorry cuz I don’t, I just did some quick research so if it just looks like a bunch of gibberish (Rosie and reader’s meeting), I am sorry! Also a lot of Rosie in the beginning, like zestial is mentioned but doesn’t show up until the shop is open for a little while.

☆ more under the cut. ☆

In your living, you've always appreciated the simplicity of nature-oriented lifestyle reminiscent of earlier eras. It's not that you have anything against new technologies; you own a smartphone and laptop, after all. What irks you is the over-consumerism perpetuated by planned obsolescence.

Your expectation when purchasing something is that it should function and endure, offering value for the time and money invested. The capitalist mindset, with its overproduction and resulting overconsumption, is something you strongly dislike.

Capitalism inherently creates a class conflict between capital and labor. While capitalists aim for high profits, workers may endure exploitation, receiving wages consistently lower than the true value of their labor.

When you had finally passed away due to a malfunctioning smart car and had discovered that even in the afterlife, people still had to work tirelessly to meet end means, you couldn't deny that you felt disappointed.

With a background in restoration, you secured a position in a somewhat upscale restaurant – well, upscale for Hell's pride ring standards. Although you initially started as a garbage boy, you quickly ascended the ranks to become a server.

Devoting longer hours than your colleagues, by choice, you harbored a goal beyond mere survival in the hellscape. You held an ambition, a genuine dream – to establish a tea salon and sustain yourself through it.

Envisioning your own establishment, you aimed to offer freshly baked treats and brewed tea for guests to enjoy while engaging in lively conversations and gossip.

You were well aware of whose assistance was crucial for your project. Overlord Rosie served as your golden ticket to a thriving salon. You needed her help to secure a building in the border zone shared by her and Overlord Zestial, as both of their people were of interest when envisioning the kind of establishment you hope to open.

After three months of relentless work and an additional month of patiently waiting for an appointment on her end, you finally managed to secure a meeting with the elegant cannibal;

"So, what do you have for me today, darling?" she inquires.

"Well, Madam Rosie—" you begin, but you're promptly interrupted by the demon before you.

"Oh, dear, no need for all those 'madam' formalities for a sweet thing like you. Just call me Rosie. But if you insist on honorifics, then ‘Miss Rosie’ will do!" The leader of Hell's cannibal district and owner of the Rosie emporium cheerfully encourages you to address her casually. Despite the power difference, her amiable attitude eases any tension surrounding your sales pitch.

"Oh, very well then. Ahem, Miss Rosie, I'd like to seek your assistance for a passion project of mine," you pause, collecting your thoughts.

"I'm interested in opening a tea salon. It's been four months since I arrived in hell, and I've been searching extensively for the perfect building. Coincidentally, it's situated on your side of the shared border zone with Overlord Zestial. I understand it's not owned by you as part of the border zone, but being on the edge of your colony grants you some jurisdiction."

"Is that so," she replies, sipping her tea. "I appreciate the idea of a tea salon near my territory. Please elaborate more about the idea itself."

"Of course! I personally dislike the over-consumerism that existed on Earth and persists in hell. My goal is to establish one or two shops at most—something familial and local instead of a big chain. I aim to offer freshly baked and brewed drinks for my customers, who would come from all over the Pentagram. I do acknowledge that most of my clientele would be from your people, Overlord Zestial's, and those from the Radio Demon's territory. A simple analysis suggests that sinners from those areas may be more in tune with the concept, as they hail from eras when such establishments were more common," you explain.

"Well, that's all delightful, darling, but, as you rightly point out, the concept isn't foreign in these circles. Your salon is certainly not the first in these parts. No offense to your aspirations, but I'm struggling to see what sets you apart, something that would entice me to invest."

"As for standing out, I may or may not have direct access to products from the living world," you reveal, prompting Rosie to set down her cup.

"Well, isn't that interesting?" she remarks, now more intrigued.

"Yes, indeed it is. I can assure you that not only would my products be fresh, but they would exclusively feature ingredients from the living world – a culinary experience many down here yearn for. Additionally, I can promise you the highest quality of tea, such as Ceylon," you confidently declare.

"And how would someone like you, who sought an Overlord's assistance, have access to such materials? I'm not necessarily doubting you, but connecting the dots is a bit challenging," she says joyfully.

"Oh, I apologize, but I cannot disclose the identities of my procurers. I've signed an NDA as obtaining items from the world upstairs isn't their primary business. Additionally this avoids attracting requests from other companies, I'm afraid they'll have to remain nameless," you explain.

"Well, isn't that convenient for you, fufufu~ I suppose you'll have to prove your word in other ways," she remarks.

"Indeed, perhaps I have an idea on how to do so that you'd like to hear," you suggest.

"I'm all ears," she replies.

"I've noticed there's a kitchen in this building, so I was contemplating rescheduling another meeting soon after this one. During that meeting, I plan not only to bring in earthly ingredients but also to bake something for you. This would showcase my kitchen skills while simultaneously proving my capability to provide the desired products," you express.

"Well, that does seem feasible. I'll pencil you in for next Monday," she replies, jotting something down on her notepad that had been on the coffee table since the start of the meeting. "Now, shall we discuss payment?" she asks.

"Yes, please. As mentioned earlier, I'll handle the supply for my business. What I need from you is assistance in acquiring the building, help with renovations since it's a bit run-down, and perhaps some promotion to your people concerning work, as I'll still require staff when I eventually open. I've checked the listing for the building itself, and I have more than enough for the purchase. However, when renovations and promoting are considered, my budget becomes a bit tight. I was thinking of a BNPL for that part," you explain.

"Alright then, that doesn't seem too bad. How about this: I get 10% of the overall monthly revenue from your establishment. I still need to make some money, after all, fufufu~ Additionally, we can consider a 1-year BNPL plan to repay the renovation loan. And one more thing: to prove your establishment's worth, aim for a minimum 20% net profit by the end of the year since opening day. How does that sound to you?" she inquires.

"10 percent isn't too stiff, but a 20% net profit may be a little challenging in only a year of business. However, I believe in my dream!" you cheerfully exclaim.

"I'm glad you agree, though I still need some collateral for your loan. But let's discuss that after I get to see your skills in action," she tells you a bit more seriously.

"Makes sense," you reply.

"I think that's all for today unless you still have something to talk about," she asks.

"No, that's all from my side," you tell her.

"Wonderful, darling! I hope to see you Monday at 12:35 a.m.," she says as she stands up and points to the door.

"Yes, so do I," you respond as you exit the room.

Leaving her building, you were more than pleased that the meeting had gone well. Once home, as you collapsed on your couch, releasing all your stress, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the chance encounter with that imp during your first month in hell;

On that day, you had ventured to imp city for errands, finding Carmine products a bit too pricey for your liking. Seeking an alternative for self-defense, you visited a gun shop there.

Exiting the store, you witnessed a heartbreaking scene—an imp being beaten up by a group of sinners, degrading names thrown at him. While you refrained from intervening, as it wasn't your place, the revelation that they were targeting the imp simply because he was an imp, compelled you to approach and ensure he wasn't fatally harmed.

Before you could rouse his battered form with a shake, he uttered, "The hell you want."

"Oh, I just wanted to make sure you were okay," you reassure him.

"Bullshit," he retorts loudly. "Listen, fucking pickpocket, those assholes already took everything I had on me, besides my clothes. And I sure as hell won't be stroll down these motherfucking streets in my underwear. So, if you wanted anything, too bad, now you have until the count of ten before I blow a hole in your skull," he rudely warns.

"First of all, I'm not going to rob you. Second, how are you going to shoot me if you just said you had nothing on you? And thirdly, I was serious about checking on you. It's unfair that they beat you up just for being an imp. It's messed up, honestly. Since sinners don't have specific races like back on Earth, they just go after other beings to exercise their racist ideology," you say.

"Humans sure do love their racism," he remarks, still untrusting but more open to conversation.

"Sinners are down here for a reason, but hellspawns are different. They're currently living their lives, just like humans did back on Earth. And yet, the damned are considered superior? That's just messed up," you express sincerely. In your view, hell's hierarchy wasn't fair. ‘If this was the sinners' punishment, why categorize them as better than imps—creatures born here, not getting punished for misconduct.’

With that sentiment resonating in your words, the imp seemed more at ease as he responded to your next words. "Anyways, you need medical attention. Let's get to a hospital."

"Do you have the money for medical bills, or even the admission fee? 'Cause I sure don't," he replies, a grin on his face, strangely charming despite his black eye and cut lips.

"Yeah, sorry, pal. I can't afford the rates for treating you; I'm saving for something big," you convey with sadness in your voice.

He chuckles at your honesty. "Thought so," he replies, allowing his body to rest against the brick wall of the alley even more, as if surrendering.

"My place is far from here. Do you have any first aid supplies at yours?" you inquire, a slight panic setting in, concerned that if he fell asleep, he might not make it, even though he wasn't bleeding excessively. Yet, he didn't appear likely to stay conscious much longer.

"Yeah, but it's too far from here," he begins, heightening your anxiety. "Though my office isn't. There's some there too," he adds, his eyes glossy, appearing on the verge of passing out at any moment.

"Alright then, just give me the address, and I'll take you there," he somewhat reluctantly grumbled out the location before passing out.

Entering the address into your phone's search engine and hoisting the imp onto your back, you walked to the location.

Quite aware that cab drivers might attempt to take extort you, especially considering you were a human carrying an injured imp, you opted for the slower but more cost-effective walking route, reaching the destination in about 25 minutes.

Climbing the stairs to the seventh floor drained your energy, but your adrenaline surged upon encountering a hellhound and two imps inside the office.

The hellhound growled and barked aggressively, while the female imp simultaneously yelled and prepared for a fight. The only one not seeing red was the male imp, who was trying to make sense of the situation.

"What the hell happened to Blitzø!??" the hellhound demanded.

"Yeah, what the hell did you do to him!?!??" the female imp added, brandishing a knife.

"Millie, calm down. If they brought him here, they're most likely not the ones who hurt him," the male imp reasoned with the female.

"Yeah, it wasn't me. He got beaten up by a group of supremacist sinners," you explained as you gently placed him on the couch in the room. "He told me he had a first aid kit here, so I brought him here as neither he nor I could afford the hospital bills."

"And how can we be sure you aren't part of the jerks who hurt him, huh?" the female imp asked, her nerves still on edge, clearly showing concern for the imp. ‘Well, no, Millie showed concern a lot about Blitz.’

"You can just ask him when he wakes up, but right now, he needs help. So, can any of you bring the kit, and we'll get this over with."

With reluctance, the hellhound, whom you soon learned was named Luna, retrieved the kit and left the healing to the male imp, Moxxie. They preferred you not to touch him any further.

After briefly stepping out to grab some missing antiseptic, you observed as they took care of him. You had convinced your way into staying until he awoke; the thought that his injuries might be worse than you initially thought haunted you, and you couldn't bear the idea that he might have died if you hadn't brought him here fast enough.

After Blitzø had regained consciousness, he thanked you and offered a 50% discount on your first kill. Curious about the statement, you informed him that you weren't aware of what his company specialized in. He somewhat joyfully played their commercial for you.

Finding it all very intriguing, you inquired about the possibility of them visiting the living world for a different purpose, which he confirmed but clarified it wasn't their company's business.

Tugging a bit at their heartstrings, particularly after saving Blitzø, you divulged your ambitions. To stand out and make your dream a reality, you needed something unique, and they held the key to it. Your request was for them to procure ingredients from the human world.

Blitzø exhibited reluctance, but Millie underwent a 180-degree shift, genuinely eager to assist you, with her husband supporting her. After some persuasion, you struck a deal with I.M.P. In exchange for 5/7 of the usual kill price and keeping things on the down low, they agreed to provide you with a weekly shipment of the groceries.

Returning to the present, it was now Monday, and you found yourself 10 minutes ahead of schedule, standing in front of Rosie's emporium with a large cooler containing your ingredients.

An employee inside noticed you through the sizable glass entry doors and came out to guide you to the kitchen. They assured you that they would inform Rosie of your arrival and gave you the green light to start setting up.

True to your word, you efficiently prepared the kitchen, and right on schedule, Rosie arrived to find a clean and ready-to-use workspace, along with the promised fresh and earthy ingredients;

"Looks like you're a woman of your word, aren't you, dear?" Rosie remarked as she grabbed some dairy products and checked the expiration dates on them.

"Of course, and I wouldn't even dream of lying to you in the first place," you assured her.

"Oh, how trustworthy you are, fufufu~" she teased.

"Of course, now should I begin?" you asked, and she replied affirmatively.

With that, the baking commenced. Your choice of treat for today was a Charlotte au fraise. In about 35 minutes, you finished the preparation.

The dessert needed to chill for 8 hours in the fridge, but anticipating such a wait, you had invested in a 'chill crystal' for today and the future. This crystal is essential for cooks and bakers alike in hell as it significantly reduces the time a dish needs to be refrigerated.

Using it, your 8 hours turned into 25 minutes. During that time, you cleaned your equipment and the kitchen and, of course, brewed some tea for Rosie.

Upon reaching the 25-minute mark, you brought out the cake, cut a slice for Rosie, and served her a cup of tea. She relished every last bit of it;

"This was all wonderful, y/n," she expressed. "I am sure of it now, I will definitely invest in your dream!"

"Oh, thank you, Miss Rosie! You don't know how much this means to me!" you exclaimed joyfully.

"I'm glad I can help. But now that we've agreed I'll lend my assistance to you on your adventure, I still need you to agree on the collateral for the BNPL I want."

"Oh, of course. What is it?" you asked.

"Well, it's elementary, dear. What I want is... your soul!" she told you.

"Oh, well, that's only until I pay you back, right?" You asked worriedly.

"Yes, of course. If everything goes well and you pay me back before the deadline, you'll get your soul back. But if you exceed the time limit, your soul will indefinitely belong to me. I hope you understand that," she explained.

With a gulp, you spoke up, "I understand, Miss. Rosie."

"Wonderful, then... 'It's a deal,'" she declared, and with those words, a bright pink contract materialized, altering the entire room's shade. Nervously, you picked up a pen from the table and signed your soul away.

As you pulled away from the contract, a pink chain momentarily appeared around your neck, then vanished in a flash along with the contract.

The demonstration went well, and you got what you wanted. While having your soul signed away was nerve-racking, you believed that if you made your vision work in time, it would return to you.

You begin to double your efforts, working your ass off harder than before. On your days off from the restaurant, you checked on the renovations of your building, and about a month later, everything was completed. After a long time of sucking up to the influential guests of the restaurant, you earned enough money to quit and open your shop.

With Rosie's promotion to her people, you efficiently built a staff, even recruiting some from other districts. On the 7th of August, you finally opened the doors to your shop, and it turned out to be a tremendous success.

The turnout exceeded expectations, but you had trained your staff to handle it. Business was booming, meeting Rosie's conditions in about 5 months instead of a year.

Just as you had envisioned, people from all over the pentagram flocked to enjoy the services your establishment provided. Surprisingly, sinners from Zestial'd district emerged as your number 1 clientele, surpassing even Rosie's people.

With your salon becoming the hot topic of his district, it caught the interest of the governing overlord. Since his people were captivated by your establishment, he decided to pay a visit himself. And so he did.

Upon the first approach to the building, he was delighted by the overall aesthetic.

While he wasn't from the era when salons first became popular, being about two centuries older, the entire ambiance brought a sense of nostalgia, even though he wasn't alive when they gained popularity.

Another aspect that pleased him was the evident respect guests and staff showed to the establishment during a service. People were polite, and the quality of the food served was impeccable.

He was currently enjoying a cup of tea with none other than Rosie, discussing the success of the establishment;

"You've madeth a valorous investment, mine lief friend. This salon is nothing but successful; you've hath found quite the gem,” Zestial complimented Rosie as he sipped his tea.

Setting her cup down, Rosie responded, "Oh, quite the contrary, Zestial. My dear little owner was the one who reached out. Sparkles in her eyes and a big dream in her heart. With hard work, she achieved those ambitions, beating my expectations and regaining her soul in less than half the time I expected."

"is yond so? Quite the guts and perseverance the lady hath,“ he replied, taking another sip of his tea.

"Yes, though I honestly didn't expect your people to enjoy this place so much. Really messed up my calculations," she said, playfully feigning frustration.

"well, sinners art inherently unpredictable creatures by nature. Plus," he paused to take a bite of a fruit tart on his plate, "with desserts like this, i don't expect anyone to intermit long ere coming to tryeth those folk for themselves. Speaking of which, i would love to compliment the owner and chef for such marvelous worketh, “ he said once he had swallowed his bite.

Rosie replied, "Well, that's the fun thing – they're both the same person. She works diligently as both showrunner and employee! But yes, I can get her if you truly wish to speak to her."

"yond would beest appreciated,“ he told her.

Meanwhile, you were on the phone with a decor company, trying to arrange something for Valentine's Day in a month – or more like Valentine's week, with new decor from the 7th to the 14th.

Once you hung up, Rosie entered the office and informed you of the situation. Without questions, you followed her into the main room of the salon, and let's just say you were nervous;

Gazing at your form, Zestial spoke out, "i wilt sayeth, miss y/n, i greatly enjoy thy establishment, and so doth mine people.”

"Oh— thank you so much, Zestial, sir, I- I mean, Mr. Zestial. Sorry, I meant Overlord Zestial! So sorry!" you stammer.

"quite the nervous one, isn’t the lady?" he did add with a bawbling chuckle. he said to Rosie, who only nodded in agreement. "well, nay needeth for worries. 'zestial' is quite fine, child." he added with a small chuckle.

"Oh, alright then. Thank you for your praise, Zestial," you said with a soft smile, which he returned. ‘Satan, was he handsome.’

"Hey, how come you call him by his name right away, and I'm still 'Miss Rosie'?" Rosie teased.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Rosie. I've just gotten used to it," you replied, and they both laughed at your flustered state.

This soon became a common occurrence for you, and quickly after that, Zestial came more and more often to the point that your salon became Zestial's meeting spot when discussing business. Consequently, he had his own VIP room for such occurrences.

Simultaneously, you grew closer with the Overlord, becoming more comfortable around him. About a month later, you found yourself crushing on the man, giving him a fair amount of treats on the house to show affection.

And don't think said affection went unnoticed by him. Being an old soul like him brought wisdom, especially in the romance department.

Actually, Zestial himself found himself enamored with you, leading to him declaring his desire to court you;

You were tidying up the VIP room after one of Zestial's meetings, swiping down the table. As you prepared to leave the room, the Overlord spoke up.

"y/n, darling, may i hath't a word with thee?” he asked.

"Yes, of course, Zestial. What do you need?" you replied, your voice slightly quivering, because, 'fuck, did you love the fact he started calling you romantic pet names.'

"well, mine lovely business owner, i hath't to admit something to thee, so prithee did put the rag down and sitteth, " he requested. You obliged. "It seems that I have found mys"'t seemeth yond i hath't did find myself having fallen for thee,“ he began, making your breath hitch.

"i eke did notice yond thee seemeth to feeleth the same, or am i wrong?" he inquired, causing you to shake your head and answer with a weak, flustered 'no.' "did doth bethink so," he said with a chuckle. "then, as we both feeleth for one another, i'd like to court thee, unless thee hath't something 'gainst me doing so.”

"Yes— I mean no, well, um, shit," you stammered. Taking a breath, you spoke out again. "What I meant to say was, yes, I would love to be courted by you, more than anything, actually," you admitted.

Standing up, walking behind you, and wrapping his arm around your figure, he leaned down to your ear. "well, isn't yond perfect. I can't wait to hath't thee all to myself still,“ he whispered, somewhat sensually, leaving you in shock yet longing for more when he pulled away.

And with that, the courtship began. You found yourself taken out for nights on the town to nice restaurants, sweet notes and love poems left in your office for you to see, and evenings spent at his castle in the fireplace room, listening as he serenaded you, oh so lovingly.

You honestly couldn't wait for you and him to become official. You might have thought that being spoken for after such a short time was idiotic in the past, but Zestial was just so perfect and all you needed in your afterlife. It was obvious that you would marry as soon as he asked you.

About 5 months after your initial meeting, you found yourself dining with your suitor at quite the fancy restaurant, fancier than the one you used to work at actually.

"how art thee liking thy food, mine sweet y/n?” Zestial inquired.

"Yes, it's wonderful. What about yours, Zestial?" you asked back.

"everything is eke wonderful on mine end, " he replied, then added on, "Mine darling, would thee mind stopping thy meal for an instant? I'd like to break with an important matter with thee.”

"Oh, why, of course," you replied, putting down your utensils. You were now accustomed to Zestial and his ways, but his next move surprised you.

Zestial had stood up and got on his knees. "mine love, despite not having known thee for yond long did compare to mine long existence, i cannot see myself spending mine life beyond the grave without thee. Thou art high-sighted, talented, ingenious, and quite quaint, to a sir like me, and i would did bet many others, ye art quite literally breathtaking. Yond is accounting for thee as a whole, not just thy aesthetic attributes. So, y/n l/n, would thee doth me the honor of being thy husband for eternity?” He said as he pulled out a ring box, opening it to reveal a beautiful green diamond ring.

Overwhelmed with emotion, you gasped in surprise, your eyes widened at the stunning ring before you. The green diamond sparkled, capturing the essence of your feelings.

"Oh, Zestial..." You trailed off, a wave of happiness and love washing over you. Tears of joy glistened in your eyes as you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, a thousand times yes!" you exclaimed, your heart pounding with excitement. Zestial's face lit up with a radiant smile as he gently slipped the ring onto your finger.

As the dazzling gem adorned your hand, sealing the promise of eternity, Zestial rose from his kneeling position. You both shared a tender embrace, sealing the moment with a passionate kiss. The restaurant's ambiance faded away as you were immersed in the warmth of Zestial's affection.

The patrons and staff discreetly applauded, offering their congratulations to the newly engaged couple. Zestial held you close, his eyes reflecting the depth of his emotions.

"to our dateless love,“ he whispered, and you clinked your glasses together in a toast. The night continued, now infused with the magic of your commitment to each other.

From that moment forward, you and Zestial embarked on a beautiful journey, navigating the twists and turns of the afterlife hand in hand, bound by an eternal love that transcended time and existence.

And so, your wedding unfolded in a splendid ceremony. Radiant in your role, you felt like a true queen that day, with Rosie officiating and injecting humor into the proceedings, eliciting laughter from you, Zestial, and your guests.

The day was a jubilant celebration, offering you the chance to become better acquainted with Zestial's fellow overlords, including Carmilla Carmine: Holy Arms Dealer and Alastor: The Radio Demon. Despite their contrasting personalities, they played nice for the sake of the occasion.

However, that was a few hours ago. Now, with the reception concluded, all the guests had departed, leaving you and Zestial in the intimate confines of his castle, specifically, his bedroom.

Following tradition, this was the night of your nuptials, the night where you and Zestial would come together as one for the first time;

Seated at the edge of the king-size bed in your now shared room, you adorned yourself in an exquisite, intricately embroidered transparent nightgown, awaiting Zestial.

The faint click of the door drew your attention, and your now-husband entered, pushing the door open with a subtle yet confident gesture.

"Well, mine dearest bride, “ Zestial said, his voice filled with an underlying lustfulness that sent shivers down your spine. "'t seemeth we finally hath't some time high-lone.” He stepped closer to you, his presence filling up the entire room.

You could feel his eyes roaming over your exposed body, drinking in every inch of you like a starving demon discovering a feast fit for a king. While you tried hard not to squirm or show any signs of discomfort, your heart raced faster than it ever had before as he spoke words of praise.

"T-thank you, Zestial," you managed to croak out, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite the butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach.

His voice dripping with false surprise. "thee behold absolutely stunning in yond gown, y/n.”

He stepped closer, his hands reaching out to caress your exposed thighs, his touch sending electric shocks coursing through your entire body. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, fighting the urge to whimper aloud as he continued to tease you. ‘Were you always this needy?’

"art thee eft for me to claim what is rightfully mine?” he asked, his eyes flashing with hunger.

You nodded vigorously, as he slowly undressed himself, revealing his tall, imposing frame covered in black fabric that clung tightly to his lithe figure. He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his pants.

As he stood before you, nude except for his dark briefs, you couldn't help but marvel at his imposing presence. He towered over you like a giant spider, his erect member straining against the thin fabric of his boxers.

Trembling slightly, you open your legs, inviting him to climb onto the bed and join you. Without hesitation, Zestial crawled onto the mattress, positioning himself between your spread legs. He leaned forward, his mouth hovering inches away from your pussy, his breath hot against your sensitive folds.

"Tell me, mine own lief jointress," he purred, his voice low and husky. "Would thee liketh me to gust thee first?”

A shiver ran down your spine as you replied, your voice cracking slightly. "Yes... please..."

Zestial's eyes gleamed with anticipation as he lowered his head, his lips brushing against your sensitive flesh. You let out a soft moan as he began to tease you, tracing light kisses along your thighs and inner thighs before finally reaching your wet, quivering entrance.

He sucked on your sensitive folds, causing your hips to buck and writhe involuntarily.

As he continued his lewd assault on your most intimate areas, his tongue darted out to lick and circle your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You arched your back, crying out his name, your nails digging into the sheets as he relentlessly pleasured you.

"Oh, Satan... Zestial!" You panted, your breath coming in short gasps. "I'm going to—I'm almost there!"

"Good girl," Zestial growled, his voice thick with desire. He increased the pace of his assault, sucking harder on your clit and thrusting his tongue deeper into your wetness.

Your moans turned into incoherent moans of pure ecstasy as he brought you closer to the edge of orgasm.

Just as you felt you were about to cum, he suddenly pulled away, leaving you craving more. "Not yet, mine own dram naughty bride," he purred. "We haven't begun yet. “

He stood up straight again, his hardened member now fully exposed, throbbing with anticipation. "do thee wanteth me to filleth thee up anon?” he asked, his voice husky with desire.

You panted heavily, your breath coming in ragged gasps. "Yes, please, Zestial," you pleaded, your voice hoarse from your intense arousal. "I need you inside me."

“Are thee sure mine own loveth, thy so bawbling i’m afraid i might breaketh thee. ” He teased, which only made whine pleadingly.

Without further ado, Zestial positioned himself between your spread legs once more. Slowly, he pushed himself into your tight, wet entrance, filling you up to the brim.

A mixture of pain and pleasure radiated throughout your body as he began to thrust rhythmically, his massive member stretching and stretching you further than you ever thought possible.

Each thrust was accompanied by a low groan from both of you, the sounds of your bodies slapping together filling the quiet room.

Your nails clawed at the sheets, leaving long, deep scratches in the fabric as he pounded into you relentlessly. Your orgasm built up faster than before, approaching its peak once more.

"Cum f'r me, mine own lief," Zestial growled, his eyes blazing with lust. "Let wend and releaseth all yond pent-up desire. “

You cried out his name, your body convulsing violently as you climaxed again, your juices coating his member and dripping down your thighs.

Your orgasm seemed to fuel him further, and he picked up the pace, thrusting faster and harder than ever before.

"Yes! More, give me more!" You begged, your voice barely recognizable from the pleasure that consumed you.

As your body continued to shake with each powerful thrust, Zestial groaned deeply, his fingers digging into your hips for support. Suddenly, he groaned loudly, his entire body tensing up before shooting his hot seed deep inside of you, filling you completely.

Finally, he pulled out of you, his cock still twitching as he collapsed beside you on the bed. Panting heavily, he reached over and brushed a strand of sweat-drenched hair from your forehead.

"That wast. quite wond'rful," he managed to croak out between heavy breaths. "Howev'r, i doubteth a single round shall suffice to satisfyeth mine own needeth, consid'ring i've been anticipating this moment f'r months. ”

“Oh.” Was all you had the time to say before your night of passion continues.

"Thank you, Zestial," you panted, your own breath returning to normal. "That was... amazing."

You reached over and caressed his cheek, your fingers trailing down to his chin. "Could we... do it again sometime?"

He chuckled softly, his eyes softening slightly. "Of course, mine own lief jointress," he replied, chuckling at your somewhat innocent neediness, his voice still husky with satisfaction. "We has't all the timeth in this hellish w'rld togeth'r anon. "

You lay there for a while, basking in their post-coital bliss, their hearts racing in sync. Eventually, Zestial stirred, moving closer to you. "Do thee needeth aught else bef're we retireth f'r the night?” he asked, his hand trailing down your stomach to rest on your hipbone.

“No, I just want you close to me.” You answered,

“Of course.” he replied softly, placing a kiss on your forehead as you fell asleep in each other’s arms….

Old English in order of apparition;

"You've madeth a valorous investment, mine lief friend. This salon is nothing but successful; you've hath found quite the gem, ” = "You've made a good investment, my friend. This salon is nothing but successful; you've found quite the gem,”

"is yond so? Quite the guts and perseverance the lady hath,“ = "Is that so? Quite the guts and perseverance she has,"

"well, sinners art inherently unpredictable creatures by nature. Plus," = "Well, sinners are inherently unpredictable creatures by nature. Plus,"

"with desserts like this, i don't expect anyone to intermit long ere coming to tryeth those folk for themselves. Speaking of which, i would love to compliment the owner and chef for such marvelous worketh, “ = "with desserts like this, I don't expect anyone to resist long before coming to try them for themselves. Speaking of which, I would love to compliment the owner and chef for such marvelous work,"

"yond would beest appreciated,“ = "That would be appreciated,"

"i wilt sayeth, miss y/n, i greatly enjoy thy establishment, and so doth mine people.” = "I must say, Miss Y/n, I greatly enjoy your establishment, and so do my people."

"quite the nervous one, isn’t the lady?" = "Quite the nervous one, isn’t she?"

"well, nay needeth for worries. 'zestial' is quite fine, child." = "Well, no need for worries. 'Zestial' is quite fine, child,"

"y/n, darling, may i hath't a word with thee?” he asked. = "Y/n, darling, may I have a word with you?"

"well, mine lovely business owner, i hath't to admit something to thee, so prithee did put the rag down and sitteth, " = "Well, my lovely business owner, I have to admit something to you, so please put the rag down and sit,"

"It seems that I have found mys"'t seemeth yond i hath't did find myself having fallen for thee,“ = "It seems that I have found myself having fallen for you,"

"i eke did notice yond thee seemeth to feeleth the same, or am i wrong?" = "I also noticed that you seem to feel the same, or am I wrong?"

"did doth bethink so," = "Thought so,"

"then, as we both feeleth for one another, i'd like to court thee, unless thee hath't something 'gainst me doing so.” = "Then, as we both feel for one another, I'd like to court you, unless you have something against me doing so."

"well, isn't yond perfect. I can't wait to hath't thee all to myself still,“ = "Well, isn't that perfect. I can't wait to have you all to myself forever,"

"how art thee liking thy food, mine sweet y/n?” = "How are you liking your food, my sweet Y/N?"

"everything is eke wonderful on mine end, " = "Everything is also wonderful on my end,"

"Mine darling, would thee mind stopping thy meal for an instant? I'd like to break with an important matter with thee.” = "My darling, would you mind stopping your meal for an instant? I'd like to discuss an important matter with you."

"mine love, despite not having known thee for yond long did compare to mine long existence, i cannot see myself spending mine life beyond the grave without thee. Thou art high-sighted, talented, ingenious, and quite quaint, to a sir like me, and i would did bet many others, ye art quite literally breathtaking. Yond is accounting for thee as a whole, not just thy aesthetic attributes. So, y/n l/n, would thee doth me the honor of being thy husband for eternity?” = "My love, despite not having known you for that long compared to my long existence, I cannot see myself spending my life beyond the grave without you. You're ambitious, talented, ingenious, and beautiful, to a man like me, and I would bet many others, you are quite literally breathtaking. That is accounting for you as a whole, not just your aesthetic attributes. So, Y/N L/N, would you do me the honor of being your husband for eternity?"

"to our dateless love,“ = "To our everlasting love,"

"Well, mine dearest bride, “ = "Well, my dearest bride,"

"'t seemeth we finally hath't some time high-lone.” = "It seems we finally have some time alone."

"thee behold absolutely stunning in yond gown, y/n.”= "You look absolutely stunning in that gown, y/n."

"art thee eft for me to claim what is rightfully mine?” = "Are you ready for me to claim what is rightfully mine?"

"tell me, mine own lief jointress," = "Tell me, my dear wife,"

"Would thee liketh me to gust thee first?” = "Would you like me to taste you first?"

"not yet, mine own dram naughty bride," = "Not yet, my little naughty bride,"

"We haven't begun yet. “ = "We haven't begun yet."

"do thee wanteth me to filleth thee up anon?” = "Do you want me to fill you up now?"

“are thee sure mine own loveth, thy so bawbling i’m afraid i might breaketh thee. ” = “Are you sure my love, your so small I’m afraid I might break you.”

"Cum f'r me, mine own lief," = "Cum for me, my dear,"

"Let wend and releaseth all yond pent-up desire. “= "Let go and release all that pent-up desire."

"That wast. quite wond'rful," = "That was... quite wonderful,"

"Howev'r, i doubteth a single round shall suffice to satisfyeth mine own needeth, consid'ring i've been anticipating this moment f'r months. ” = "However, I doubt a single round will suffice to satisfy my needs, considering I've been anticipating this moment for months.”

"Of course, mine own lief jointress," = “Of course, my dear wife,"

"We has't all the timeth in this hellish w'rld togeth'r anon. " = "We have all the time in this hellish world together now.”

"do thee needeth aught else bef're we retireth f'r the night?” = "Do you need anything else before we retire for the night?"

Thanks anon for requesting!

©tswhiisfttedr. dn translate, or plagiarize.

Tip Me (Ko-Fi) & And support my art account @maviscarlettie

You can now commission me!

Reblogs help!!! (Request Are On Pause)

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unadulteratedsoulsweets · 9 months ago

Text

A DC X DP IDEA #26

History hates Lovers

Imagine dis…

When Batman got lost in time it was said that he made some signs or even some symbols that send a message in the future. For example, a portrait that looked exactly like him or even a cave painting of a bat that looked too modernized to be from the early cavemen.

But it seems that we have forgotten that every change that he made whether it was just standing in a portrait as a background has a severe consequence in the time stream. The butterfly effect rests on the notion that the world is deeply interconnected, such that one small occurrence can influence a much larger complex system. The effect is named after an allegory for chaos theory; it evokes the idea that a small butterfly flapping its wings could, hypothetically, cause a typhoon.

Small changes could result in another and entirely new timeline, whether the changes were small enough that people don’t notice or large enough that people merely conceived it as normal.

But at the end of the day it still changes, so how did the timeline remain stable as it is?

(I am no expert in time travel so don’t get your hopes up, I do enjoy a good time travel or time travel -fix it fic in A03)

…

Bruce didn’t know where and when he is right now. Still weak and disoriented from the consent way he fell from each timeline. One moment he could be in the middle of a group of cavemen and then he was at the edge of a town in the Middle Ages.

He kept sending messages subtle as they may be, as long as they survived the passage of time and arrived to his future. He just hopes that his teammates can see his messages, especially with the flash in their midst who had both knowledge and experience in time travel.

He tried to fit in every time he tried to send a message as the last thing, he needed was to change the time.

…

But little did Bruce know the little messages he kept making and sending, despite their subtleness still created a butterfly effect. It makes some of the people in the period who were supposed to be in time to some event pause and take a look at the mysterious symbols and signs that Bruce made. Thus, making them late or even have some delay, thus creating a large domino effect that started small. From insignificant people, people who are just literally background characters who just have a very short greeting or meeting with someone in the event made the entire timeline crack.

Clockwork was looking at the time stream due to the fragile situation at hand. CW knew that this event was crucial for the Red Robin’s growth as a detective and vigilante. But the small cracks are turning into something unchangeable, CW knew that this was the only communication that the Dark Knight could send as well it was his way to get back to his own time.

Yet CW can see the cracks getting larger and larger, with each move that the Dark Knight made creating more holes in his known future. Usually, such events as the Dark Knight's faces don’t create any consequences or even affect the time stream of the said dimension as it was meant to be. An event unavertable in the end is more justifiable than the means.

But due to the Flash family going back in time as well the countless time traveler visitors made the time stream in that dimension week and prone to break in any given time. It was just a surprise to CW that it lasted so long.

CW found a solution in the form of his apprentice/ grandson, Phantom. Despite the young ghost being an Ancient of Space as well as the King of Infinite Realms he still needs a mentor to not only guide him to his new duties as an Ancient but also his responsibilities as the future High King.

Space and Time are two sides of the same coin thus CW ended up being the mentor of the young Phantom.

Clockwork sent Danny to not only seal in the cracks in the flow of time but also want some great-grandchildren, if you heard the last part then you heard nothing from me.

…

Danny didn’t know he was getting in when Clockwork sent him out to another errand at another time. He should have gotten used to CW’s vague and cryptic errands through time when he was a teen, but as he was sealing another crack from time, he saw something that shouldn’t be in the period. A man clearly from out of time trying and failing to fit in, though he may have fooled the locals but he had been traveling and fixing time since he was in high school.

At first, he looked perplexed but if CW didn’t mention anything then he won’t do anything.

But slowly Danny realized that whichever period the guy was in, it was where the next set of cracks would be, so Danny decided to follow the guy.

…

Bruce may still be weary and tired from the constant falling through time but even in his tired state can see that there is someone following him.

Every era there that man was, seemingly walking around aimlessly but then he noticed that he kept a good distance away from him.

Eventually, it led to and confrontation between the two males.

…

Danny who explained that despite having the power to travel through time cannot help Bruce as his little messages are creating small cracks in the time stream and are merely there to seal up the cracks, but offers news that he will get back to his own time.

Bruce who is just wishing for human contact that relates to him as well in the verge of going off to the Flash to stop going back in time for another chance to eat a breakfast that tasted better than before.

…

The two began conversing with one another and slowly fell in love.

…

Bruce is the first one to fall hard, Danny whose light-heartedness brought Bruce out of his shell. It had only taken a few conversations with each other to lose his shield around his heart. Danny both accepted both Bruce and Batman within him. Danny’s smile lights up Bruce’s world, at first Bruce tries to hide his feelings to Danny so as not to lose his only companion throughout the ordeal.

…

The two began dancing around their feelings and Bruce in an out of character of him sent a love letter and a poem to Danny when the ghost was needed somewhere else to seal the crack.

As old as I am, I have had the most dreadful experiences in love. I have a very dark past and I'm a damaged soul. My past experiences have groomed me into believing that there's no such thing as true love, but with you, I feel different. You make me fall in love with myself too. You always make me smile, and I'm scared. I'm scared to fall in love and get broken again, I'm scared to give my all, only to be used again, to get shamed and embarrassed. I've seen how careful and caring you are around me, but sometimes you give me a cold shoulder, and it's small things like these that break me. Please bear with me and be fragile. I come from a very painful past where I had to be a woman and have no say. All this love and affection is a little scary to me because I'm not used to it. I'm falling for you and I'm falling hard. I hope our love story has a happy ending. Know that I will always love and cherish you.

(Mmakoma Kamogelo. "My Confession." Family Friend Poems, September 6, 2016. https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/my-confession-2)

Danny who received the letter burned red from reading the poem to the point his freckles were the only thing prominent on his red face, Danny knew that this man was from the future and couldn't help but feel a little bit insecure. That man, the Batman is someone out of his league but sends out a letter and a poem of his own.

Published by Family Friend Poems September 2016 with permission of the Author.

My love for you is uncontrollable.

My feelings for you are unstoppable.

Can't go a day without thinking about you.

Without you, I'm not complete.

With you, my heart finds its beat.

My heart is filled with joy because of your love.

You are my strength, and without you I'm weak.

Before you came into my life, I was

Hopeless, lonely, sad.

When you showed up, I knew that you were sent to me. (Namely CW, Danny just knew that old Ancient did something)

You are always here to support me.

Your smile makes me shy,

And sometimes I wonder where you have been all this while,

But I'm just glad that I managed to get you in my life...

YOU FILL MY HEART WITH JOY!

(Mmakoma Kamogelo. "My Confession." Family Friend Poems, September 6, 2016. https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/my-confession-2)

…

When the two realized both were pinning to one another began sending each other little love notes, in the form of short poems to full-blown letters.

Both males whenever received a letter when one was apart, collected and hid it in a box to reread each stroke of the letter from the other, and whenever they were together, they just spent the entire day basking in each other’s presence.

Their little note exchange didn’t stop whenever Bruce fell to another period, Danny just followed him and started a new exchange mail of letters.

Of course, both used pseudonyms in their letters ranging from initials to fake names using only the letters from their names.

…

When Bruce was saved by Red Robin, he felt relieved as he could now stop falling into another period but another shock as he didn’t get to say goodbye to Danny.

Bruce knew that someday it come, but he was going to offer Danny the future with him. He is going to offer Danny the world, but it seems that it was never meant to be.

Maybe that’s why his past self never met Danny, too disappointed, too dejected to meet him once again.

…

It has been a few months since he came back to his future, it was another family outing organized by Dick.

It was a museum featuring the latest found by archeologists, as Bruce was surveying case to another case, he fell upon a worn-out parchment with his handwriting.

Wide-eyed, Bruce looked closely at the exhibit and found that the description said the letter was about a man named “Brooks” confessing his love in the form of a short poem to a woman named “Daniella” who had the same feelings as him but had other responsibilities to fully go where he is.

Bruce began looking at the other exhibits and there along rows and rows of his letter exchange with Danny from different periods.

Jason and Tim who were a few cases away from him began having a heated discussion with a stranger about the supposed woman in the letters being a man the entire exchange is between a pair of male couple, and the so-called Historians are hiding the fact that it was between men.

Bruce was about to interfere with the upcoming verbal fight when a stranger beside him commented that “Daniella” probably missed “Brooks” as the last letter and poem to the exchange when “Daniella” noticed that “Brooks” is no longer responding is…

(By E.E. Cummings)

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)I am never without it(anywhere

I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing, my darling)

I fear

no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world, my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

(E.E. Cummings. "[i Carry Your Heart With Me(i Carry It In]." Family Friend Poems, https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/i-carry-your-heart-with-me-by-ee-cummings)

Bruce is startled as he doesn’t even notice Danny’s last letter to him when he takes a good look at the stranger…

…

There he is, Danny in his early 30’s looking at him with softness and deep love in his eyes and a gentle smile. As if he hadn’t waited centuries for Bruce to appear once again, and what looked like willing to wait once again for him.

…

PS: If someone out there wanted to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

PPS: As you can see, I have never fallen in love and please mind my poor and lack of love life in my life to relate to my work.

PPPS: I decided to post a bit early, I've got something going on to the actual February 14.

#dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #dp #danny fenton #ghost king danny

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ginevrapng · 1 year ago

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𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐈 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄?

pairing: george weasley x slytherin!reader

word count: 5.2k words

content: no war au, non canon quidditch match, fluff, some angst, insecurities

a/n: this was super fun to write and my first long harry potter fic, hopefully you all enjoy it! hopefully george isn't too ooc in this. i might make a part two of this with smut but i'm not sure yet.

"did i ever tell you how beautiful you are?" spitting out your drink in shock you turn to look at your best friend and see him looking at you, swaying drunkenly. george has definitely had too much to drink tonight. before he can say anything else that you know he'll regret in the morning you cover his mouth with your hand. "honestly george, i leave you alone for an hour to talk to adrian and you get wasted and start sprouting nonsense. normally you're the one stopping me from doing stupid stuff, georgie," you giggle, vowing to make sure you don't get any drunker so you can get you both home safe.

you first met fred and george in potions in your 4th year and it was a rocky start, they didn't like slytherins and you didn't have the time and energy to waste on trying to get people to like you. however that all changed when in one class fred nearly messed up his wit-sharpening potion by putting gurdyroot in instead of ginger root, immediately you grabbed his wrist before he could put it in, straight away scolding yourself for doing such an idiot thing and dropping his hand. normally you wouldn't've minded if someone messed up their work, plus potions was your best class so it'd be less competition but sitting in front of george weasley and then right next to fred it was inevitable you took a liking to their antics, even if you never told them so or even spoke to them.

at the time fred was extremely suspicious, some girl who he'd never spoke to before stopping him from putting in an ingredient. before he could even question it you stated, "it's meant to be ginger root, you've got it wrong." you turned away from him and carried on with what you were previously doing, not wanting to see his reaction, you warned him and he'd do with that what he will. you expected him to not respond but you didn't expect utter silence from his workside. "you can believe me or not, i don't care. don't just do nothing though, snape's going to think you're up to something and it'll distract me when he comes over."

you started to get pissed off at weasley's lack of movement before you heard him not so quietly whisper to george, "oi, what's meant to be in this thing? gurdyroot?" you didn't hear what george said, you're not sure if it was because he was actually quieter or if you were slightly stunned and pleased with the fact he took some notice on what you said and didn't throw away what you said you said completely. in the corner of your eye you saw fred turn back around and almost sounded reluctant as he replied, "shit. urrr thanks.. i guess."

after that day you both took more interest in each other, only talking when having something that needed to be said but that was definitely an upgrade in your relationship. george took notice of this change but others didn't. by the end of your fourth year you talked in potions together all the time, with george joining in by leaning over to talk to you both, cheekily winking at you whenever he caught you looking at him, promptly leading to an eye roll from you and occasionally walking over to you under the guise of needing to get something where you were, leading to many detentions and you vowing to never speak to him again if he distracted you in crucial parts in class. everybody just thought george wanted to talk to fred but they were wrong.

you also listened to their prank ideas, giving impute when you can but mostly just fascinated by everything they were saying. you'd stealthily give them presents for christmas and their birthday and they'd always tease you about it but you'd always be able to tell they liked what you gave them. they also decided to bother you while you studied in the library. to this day you think about shock people must have had when fred and george said they were going to the library for the first time, madam pince probably thought she was going mad when she saw them.

it just turned into a secret, your friendship, you're not really sure how, you just knew that fred and george didn't want people to know about you. you wish you could have said the same but you had no interest in what others thought of you. you were very prideful of your house but you didn't care about your reputation, at those times you wish the twins felt the same. you would like to say it didn't bother you to keep quiet about how you're friends with them but it did, not all the time but sometimes it did get to you. you'd finally found amazing friends and they actually liked you for you and have interest in what you had to say, they were probably the closest friends you had and had ever had. you knew that you kept to yourself and you liked that fred and george somehow managed to get you to open up so being made to never speak to them in front of other people hurt sometimes. you sometimes wondered if you mattered that much in their lives.

that was answered to you after a quidditch match, slytherin against gryffindor. slytherin won by a landslide and for some reason the other team were off their game this time, whatever the reason it was a win to slytherin. you wished you could have cheered on fred and george, they are great beaters but you knew you couldn't have cheered for them, that's okay though because adrian was on the slytherin team and you two have always been close since first year. you were decked out in all green, cheering him on and the rest of the team, house spirit and all, scarf and socks matching, watching them play.

on your way back into the castle you see a small commotion and notice the green robes so you went over there to see an argument between some of the two teams. malfoy spewing rubbish like all ways. more and more people were starting to come over and you knew soon one of the professors would get there, you were not going to lose house points today, especially when you've just won the game and gained house points in return. "the only reason you're still on the slytherin team malfoy is because your father's paying flint's parents to keep you on the team." you heard potter say as you walked up towards them.

you reached your hand out to touch malfoy's shoulder pulling him back. "let's go malfoy, it's not worth it, we just won."

you froze as you heard potter talk to you, he'd never even looked at you before, now he's got it in for you. "who are you, anyway? just some other blood-purist? bet you're so proud of your house cheating." if you were more confident in that moment you would of spoken up, would've told him to shut it, that he knows nothing about you. but you realised everyone is looking at you, slytherins, gryffindors even hufflepuffs and ravenclaws and the twins are behind harry and oh god you felt sick. you tried your hardest to not look the twins in the eye or even in their direction at all. you thought that they're probably disgusted that they ever talked to you. you're nothing like what potter thought you were and everyone who knew you knew that but fred and george never did ask you questions about your beliefs, maybe afterwards they had doubts when potter said that.

you kept your head down and walked away, pushing against people, clearly trying not to cry. you just wanted to get out of there. you found out how much you mean to the twins when george see's your figure leaving, going back to the castle. without much thought about the situation he goes to correct harry, because there was no way in merlin he was going to let someone think that about you. fred beat him to it though, "she really is nothing like that harry." george pushes against everyone as he followed you, catching up with you quickly.

"don't worry about it, harry just doesn't know you."

you couldn't help it, it just came. you were overwhelmed with emotions and frustration you stop momentarily, spun to face him and shout, "that's the whole problem. he doesn't know me! leave me alone weasley, i never want to speak to you again." you walked off quickly, deciding you're done. it's over and you just want to sleep for the rest of the day.

george wasn't too fond of this idea and he catches up with you again. honestly he was slightly taken aback by your outburst, one second he saw you desperately try to stop malfoy from saying anything else due to not wanting to get into trouble and the next second harry made you run off while trying not to cry. he wished that you never saw the fight between them all, he hoped you didn't think ill of him. "please don't go, let's just go wait for fred somewhere, he's probably still fighting with malfoy."

"didn't you hear me weasley, i'm done. i'm not going to be your stupid secret. i don't want to be your bloody friend only when it suits you."

george never meant for you to think that you're a secret and he knew fred felt the same. "i'll fix this." you didn't answer but all you could think was 'no, not this time.'

you did however successfully help deescalate the argument. gryffindor's confusement with how the twins stood up for you left malfoy to throw a couple of snide comments without any reply from them, leading enough time for pansy to notice mcgonagall on her way over and warn all her house that they should leave, including a very worked up malfoy.

"what the bloody hell was that all about?" ron questions fred, everyone else turning to face him thinking exactly the same thing.

"well obviously malfoy was being a git like always."

"you know bloody well that's not what i mean."

"is she who you go see when you 'go to the library'?" ginny asks. "i mean seriously, it's not like i believe you both have suddenly started studying multiple times a week."

fred knew ginny's caught him out but he doesn't know what to say. how would they all react to finding out about you and what if you don't even want anyone in slytherin to figure out your friends with two gryffindors.

"we're friends." fred hears as he turns round to see george had come back. he didn't want for you to feel like a secret anymore. he wonders where you are and questions him. "she said she's going... actually i don't know where."

"is she okay?"

george pauses for a second, "we'll figure something out."

ginny was the only one who didn't have something to say about what they'd all just found out. she had a suspicion something was up, she just didn't know what, she really did not think that it would be something to do with a slytherin though. but everyone else definitely was not taking the news too well. not just a slytherin but someone opening being friendly with malfoy, at least in their eyes that's what it looked like.

every time you saw the twins after that you walked away, doing everything in your power to stay away from them. that did not work for long, as two days after the incident you had charms first period with george. mentally preparing yourself to see him and ignore him no matter what he said or how funny he is, you get out of bed, get ready and leave the common room.

as you left you get the fright of your life. "oh merlin, george! what are you doing lurking about?" your heart racing out due to the jump and still trying to be angry and scold him even though you missed him and fred incredibly so. you see him smirk as he tries not to laugh and you want so bad to wipe that smirk of his stupid face.

"i've come to carry your bag, you always complain that you have to carry to many books on tuesday so i've come to save you, i'm your knight in shining armour! we've got charms." before you can even retort and tell him to go away he's taken your bag and is walking off.

"hey give me my bag back!" he doesn't try to keep in his laugh this time as he then assures you that you'll have it in charms. "i need that bag now weasley, if you remember before class there's normally a little thing called breakfast."

"i did actually forget about that. let's go have some breakfast then." he carried on walking and didn't give you your bag back. you're walking in the halls together and you don't know how to react. not only are you angry at him but now you're confused because what the hell does he think he's doing and why did he suddenly care about you enough to be seen with you.

"stop thinking so much. you know me and fred really care about you and we'll make it up to you. we never wanted you to feel the way you have been feeling. godric i'll even drop a bag of dungbombs in mcgonagall's classroom because i know how much you secretly don't like her. even if you pretend you do, i see your face scrunch up in annoyance all the time when she talks."

you unsuccessfully tried to hide your smile, as you mumble about how you want your bag back and how you wasn't even thinking about that. george relaxes more as he see's you smile, there was always that insecurity that you'd never talk to him again after the quidditch match although fred was so sure you would and told him so and he's so fred was right glad.

right now though at this party fred's on his own this time with getting home. you're pretty sure he was talking to seamus finnigan and neville longbottom last time you saw him anyway so it's unlikely you'll see him again tonight if he's with all gryffindor alumni.

you've found it best to stay away from that lot anyway, as you've only properly met the twins family and harry, and you know they're probably very welcoming people now that they know who you are and the twins want you to properly meet them but you had a hard enough time meeting hermione granger for the first time, you don't want the hassle of going through that all again and even after all these years you know that she still doesn't like you, no matter how close you both are to the weasley family. you remember bursting out crying the first time they invited you to spend the holidays with them at the burrow when they found out you'd be staying at hogwarts that year for christmas.

now george has come to find you he hasn't left your side, not even by an inch, so close together you can feel each others body heat, squished on a small sofa together with your thighs touching. he tries to hold out to you and you're unsure about what he wants to do but lean into his touch anyway. "don't get your drink on my dress or i'll kill you weasley."

he grins and pulls you closer, you're now tucked under his chin, being able to feel his heartbeat. you're already hot from the summer heat and the dancing, but you welcome being so close to him, quickly getting used to the position.

'fred's normally the one who's touchier.' you didn't realise you said that out loud until george pulls you tighter to him, humming back to you.

you both sit together for a minute or two, listening to the party-goers and the music in the background. you could sit there all day with george, doing nothing in particular, just being next to him. just like at hogwarts when it was only you and him, fred's off somewhere else and you'd both sit under one of the oak trees in the shade away from everyone else and play with his hair absentmindedly, reading to him as he closes his eyes and listens. but as you go to sip your drink you hear george say, "i don't like how you and fred always touch each other." you stop moving and draw your hand back down without drinking. he really must have no filter when he's had too much to drink.

"what on earth are you talking about george? you make it sound like we're bloody all over each other. you know we don't have any kind of feelings for each other. plus does it really matter to you?"

you look to him and see his eyebrows furrowed and lips in a tight line. "you are all over each other though." he looks you in the eye while whispering. "and pucey, what's his deal, you know he was a shit quidditch player right?"

you get up to leave, george may be pissed drunk but right now he's pissing you off. you decide you'll cool off and come find him later on to take you both home. that is unless you see him making out in the corner with alicia spinnet. last time he got in a mood like this with you it was at a party in your last year at hogwarts. for some reason george just had so much to drink and started questioning why you spent the night dancing with fred and even started talking about how you went to the yule ball with flint. aware that you were both drunk you didn't want to argue you left to find fred. later when you came to find george after missing him and wanting to forget about the outburst, you saw him snogging alicia spinnet, his hands on her waist and her hands in his hair. just seeing it made you feel sick and overcome with feelings you don't want to confront as you left the party without saying bye to anyone, nearly forgetting the password for the common room as you stumble inside, wanting to forget about the entire night.

this won't be like last time though as before you can successfully make your escape george holds onto your wrist and drags you back down onto the sofa, nearly landing on his lap. with his other hand he tilts your head towards him, so you're face to face and eye level. too flustered and surprised, you don't move. you're so close to each other that you can can smell the firewhisky he's been drinking and the sandalwood shampoo he uses and his cinnamon scented body wash and cologne. you're so close you can count his freckles and you're trying desperately not too think about this. george is your best friend, george weasley is not someone who should distract you from your surroundings because all you can focus on is him.

"the only person who you should be all over is me. not pucey, not fred, not that twat flint that took you to the yule ball, not that bloody ravenclaw who kept eyeing you up in our 5th year, it's me, not them." your eyes widen as george talks softly to you. you're gazing into each others eyes and you don't think you've ever seen george look so nervous in his life. you think his eyes are beautiful, you've always thought that. like he told you he thinks yours are tonight, like how he told you how beautiful in general you are tonight. but right now it's different, he's being vulnerable and trusting you by letting you look, by letting you softly study his features in more detail than you've ever been able to in the past, it's an open invitation into his heart and soul, trying to convey to you how much you mean to him. his chocolate brown eyes are glazed over and you're unsure if it's due to him drinking or if it's because he's telling you how he feels and he's getting emotional. you see crinkles under his eyes from his countless hours of laughing and smiling and pulling pranks. how he's slowing blinking as if his eyelids feel heavy. you wonder what he can see in your eyes and during this moment you can't even begin to recall what your own eye colour is. the warmth of his eyes making you forget your own, you believe they're probably glassy due to what george confessed.

you licked your lips, suddenly finding them incredibly dry, "why?"

george slightly moves his head back further away from you, "why, what?" george didn't know what you would say but he didn't expect it to be a one word question that he's too drunk to wrap his head around to understand. he genuinely did not know where this night was going to go at the beginning but one thing lead to another and in george's eyes you started getting to touchy with someone and then all these words kept tumbling out that he thought he'd never say out loud.

"why you?" you turn your head away slightly, twidling with your fingers.

"thought it was pretty obvious after all i said love." your stomach flips at the name, "i'm mad about you." he looks at you with bated breath, waiting for your response.

"tell me you mean it." george hears your voice shake and as he leans closer to you to try and get you to look at him again he see's tears running down your face, uncontrollably. he's taken aback by seeing you cry and hates that he's the one who caused it, he's unsure of what he should do after but right now he can't help but to draw you into his arms, holding you against his side, placing a kiss on your head and stroking your back. he hears you sniffle and strokes your cheek, wiping away all the tears. "please.. please georgie. tell me you mean it."

"i-i mean it. i've never meant anything more in my life-," george starts to say but you cut him off.

"are you sure? your friends don't like me and what if alicia spinnet comes up to you and kisses you again or asks you out on a date." you whisper, still holding on tight to him. you're insecurities flowing through you.

"well firstly, i have no idea what my mates have to do with how i feel about or why it matters. and secondly..." he trails off as he then realises exactly what you said. george lifts a hand to your face and gently places under your chin tenderly, lifting your face up and facing him. "wait, are you jealous of alicia spinnet?" he studies your face, red eyes still watery and seeing you heat up and pout. he knew he got his answer and became more confident and self-assured. grinning from ear to ear, he says, "i didn't even know you saw that love. we only kissed once." you furrow your eyebrow causing george to chuckle and gently smooth out the wrinkles with his fingertips before kissing your forehead. "you seem bitter, love?" he teases.

you knows he's riling you up for a reaction but that doesn't stop the reaction. now he knows you might share feelings for him nothing will stop him from pressing your buttons in hopes that you'll get fired up and shout at him because he finds that you're so cute whenever that happens and you might even shout out your feelings and tell him how you feel. he might be able to get you to tell him how you feel about him or if it's only you being possessive of your friend after you've had a few drinks but he really hopes that isn't the case.

"weasley if you keep teasing i'm going to be mad at you," you huff. george hasn't stopped grinning though and you want so desperately to wipe that grin off his face, to have the upperhand but you've lost all capability of telling him you feel the same, you have since your fourth year and even now you worry that you aren't good enough, but you remember to before how he was looking at you and what he said about you and how pleased he looks right now and all of that worry goes away for awhile.

you lunge closer to him and close the already small gap between you two and kiss him, momentarily stunning george by your bold attention before he's smirking and kisses you harder, moving his hands so one is tracing patterns on your waist and the other delicately holding your jaw and cheek.

after kissing for so long it feels like your lips might just fall off, you reluctantly break apart, not realises how much you currently needed air until you could get some. "so you like me too, ay?"

you refuse to answer out of being shy and kiss him again, mainly to get him to stop speaking but there is one thing about george and that's after all these years he knows you like the back of his hand, so he doesn't kiss you back to watch you get frustrated, and boy did it frustrate you. you scowl as you look at him, "why'd you do that?"

george tucks some of your hair behind your ear, causing you to shiver at the action and george to smirk at your reaction. he whispers in your ear, "tell me you like me too, love." you want so desperately to hold onto him but he's moving away from you before you even get the chance to. he's looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to crack.

you soon crack, just as george knew you would. "bloody hell, george i am in love with you, alright! so kiss me now!"

"you..you what?" if you were more sober you would have instantly regretted saying that, however as soon as the words came out of your mouth you forgot what you confessed to entirely.

you grab hold of his shirt and pull him closer towards you again. "please, georgie, 'need you." that snaps him out of his thinking as he starts kissing you again, this time less soft as before. he's almost hungry now as he's holding onto you tight, and has started moving down your neck, placing kisses in his wake. you softly moan at the sensation before you're rudely interrupted by whistling.

"oi, get a room you two. it's bad enough to have seen you make heart eyes at each other for the last six years." you've never wanted a strangle fred more and it looks like george is sharing a similar sentiment, as he glares at him across the room.

"lets get out of here sweetheart before i punch him in the face." you giggle and stand up.

"that's awfully violent of you george, i'm meant to be the one that gives threats." you've started to sober up a bit now but lean against him anyway, wanting an excuse to be close.

" 'fraid i've always seen through that. you're not very scary love, i mean you scream every time you see a spider. if i trapped you and dear little ronnikins in a room with a spider, just imagine the chaos." he chuckles as he looks at you fondly and holds your hand while pulling you tighter to him, he sees through your guise of needing help to stand and keep steady but that doesn't stop him from holding on to you, any reason or excuse to hold you and touch you he's going to take it, especially now you're both sobering up.

george steers you through all of the people as you're making your way to the door. "wait georgie, do you need to say bye to everyone?" you stop in your tracks and pull in your hand back a bit.

"nah, doesn't matter." you softly smile and hold tighter onto his hand. you hum and follow him out the door.

as soon as you're out the door you're hit with the winter cold. " 'm cold," you grumbled as george was already taking his jacket off.

"here, love," he replied as he drapes his jacket over your shoulders, giving you extra warmth. "if i knew it was going to be this cold i'd have brought a scarf." he wraps you up in his arms, slinging his arm around you and sharing body heat, making in difficult to move quickly but appreciating the warmth.

"don't know why we couldn't apparate out of there, bloody annoying if you ask me." you complain.

he laughs as you make a fuss. "there were muggles there."

"what the bloody hell were muggles doing there?"

"careful, love, you're starting to sound like malfoy," he responds playfully, causing you to lightly hit his shoulder and pout.

"you know what i mean. how does he know muggles?"

"dunno honestly, but on the brightside i get to walk home with a pretty girl." you pinch his arm softly to silently tell him to quit it, getting a laugh out of him.

"there's no 'brightside', it's night. plus i'm just pretty?" you feel the need to tease him like he's been teasing you as george always wins in this kind of thing, never failing to make you shy and flustered.

"oh no, not just pretty. the most beautiful person in the world." he tells you without missing a beat. in response you kiss george's cheek, pleased and feeling fuzzy at what he said and you both walk together in comfortable silence.

"so you're in love with me," he remarked. you can hear his grin. the cogs turn in your brain as you remember what you told him.

you keep your head forward even though you want to turn away, and silently thank how you're still slightly tipsy, giving you the courage you need to not deny your deeper feelings. "shut up weasley."

george spins you to face him, your skirt flowing with the movement, the skirt that you definitely should not have worn tonight no matter how long it is. pressing your foreheads together he whispers, "i love you too. now lets get home before i freeze my bloody bullocks off."

you burst out laugh and bury your face in his neck, this time making him shiver at the touching contact. you don't think you've ever felt happier than right now, as the man you love loves you too.

you carry on your walk and swing your hands intertwined with his. "does that make me your girlfriend georgie?"

"merlin! it better be, six years is a long enough wait."

#george weasley x reader #george weasley fluff #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley #hp x reader #harry potter x reader #slytherin reader #weasley x reader #weasley fluff #harry potter fic #harry potter #gryffindor x slytherin #george weasley fic #weasley twins #♡ mine / writing #♡ george #harry potter fluff #hp x reader fluff #harry potter x slytherin!reader

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caraetdeul · 3 months ago

Text

I Know My Love Should Be Celebrated

Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader

The one time you finally choose to forget.

(with platonic!Jihoon x reader)

TW: angst, angst, angst!!! Hurt/no comfort, somehow toxic relationship, infidelity

A/n: We finally reached the last part of this series! Hopefully, I was able to give justice to this whole thing until the very end. This is probably the very first time I successfully made something as long and crucial as this and I'm just so happy with how it turned out. Anyway, enjoy reading caratdeuls!

Btw, it can be read as gn!reader but there are descriptions of feminine clothes and things.

~Main Masterlist~ | ~Series Masterlist~

The buzz of the restaurant was the first thing that you heard once you stepped foot into the premises but the visual of the restaurant itself was the first thing that filled you with awe.

It was beautiful, to say the least, and you weren’t even in the main hall yet.

The line before the hostess wasn’t a long one but it still made you wait for a few minutes. And frankly, it was worth it. You've been waiting for months to finally be able to set foot in this restaurant ever since you heard about it from Jihoon. His comments about the wonderful food and ambiance of the whole place certainly made you giddy with the need to experience it in person. So when you finally got the chance to make a reservation, you immediately booked it.

You were approximately 10 minutes earlier than your reservation—30 minutes if you didn’t stand by outside the restaurant just to pass the time—which was enough time for you to stand in line before the hostess finally led you to your table. Your whole day was basically planned around this reservation. You were done getting all glammed up an hour before you had to get to the restaurant. You even booked an appointment for your nails the day before just to feel your best tonight. A testimony to how much you were looking forward to this day.

Looking around as you settle down in your seat with a menu in your hands, there was no doubt Jihoon’s stories about the place had even a speck of lie in it. The whole place was gorgeous. The restaurant was divided into 3 parts with a small round stage in the middle and a chandelier hanging above it. The first part was directly connected to the restaurant’s entrance, a whole bar takes up one side with some 4-seater tables around it and a service door leading to the kitchen on the other. The second part was a private dining hall on the back of the restaurant and from the looks of it, it seems like a company has currently reserved the whole area. Lastly, the third part takes up half of the restaurant which was filled with tables and booths as well as a glass door leading to a small garden at the back.

You were seated in one of the booths overlooking the garden outside. An elegant pendant light hangs above your head, its warm light illuminating the table in front of you. A waiter came by to take your order but you politely declined, stating that you were still waiting for someone. And by someone, you meant Seungcheol.

Choi Seungcheol.

Your boyfriend.

The love of your life.

Your significant other for about 3 years.

4 years if you both survive until tomorrow.

You chuckled bitterly at the thought. In less than 24 hours, you were about to celebrate your anniversary for the 4th time. But in less than 10 minutes, he was also able to break your heart, drown you in uncertainty, and smother the warm flame that was keeping you alive. It was no surprise that after that day at the restaurant, you would never be the same ever again. Since then, you felt like you were walking on a tightrope with your relationship hanging on a balance and Seungcheol was just a bystander without a care in the world.

He was the one you always confided in. The one person who truly knows you as a person and embraces your deepest darkest secrets close to his heart. There was never a doubt that you could share your most deranged thoughts with him and he would still kiss you with the touch of a curator that was given the most precious antique of all time. But when you got home that day, a trail of rainwater followed you as you paced around your apartment floor with the steps of a mentally ill patient who was slowly losing their mind.

Nothing felt real at the time. Doubts were flooding your mind with every step that you took. You were struggling so bad to keep your head above water that you can’t even remember how you got out of your rain-soaked clothes and into the safety of your bed. At some point, you do recall something akin to your brother calling and asking where you were. And if you were only lucid enough at the time, you would’ve noticed the worry and a slight hint of tension in his voice.

The next morning, you woke up to the sun's rays hitting your face and your boyfriend snuggled into your side. His angelic face as he slept would’ve been such a sight to behold on a morning like that but it wasn’t heavenly enough to stop the onslaught of memories of the previous night that dropped on you like a ton of bricks right onto your chest.

And just like that, you realized the true meaning of the word ‘sonder’. A term that was used to describe the awareness that everyone in this world has a complex and vivid life just like you do. Because now, you can imagine the person strolling along the road just outside your apartment with their dog by their side as they debate on what to eat for breakfast, oblivious to the fact that a couple’s life together was crumbling down like a poorly made sandcastle just in the window above their head.

It was devastatingly beautiful.

Like a funeral on a sunny day.

In all honesty, you had no idea how to confront him about all of those things. You were trying to find the right time to do just that but every time an opportunity arose, there was always something that stopped you from acting on it. Sometimes, it would be because of something you can’t control. Most times, it was your own self that was stopping you from doing anything. Because even though you just want to claw out your chest with the need to rescue yourself from the pain it is causing, you know deep down that you don’t have the strength to let go of the one thing that’s been the best thing that has ever happened to you.

Now here you were in your best dress, sipping water in a grandiose restaurant, contemplating once again whether or not this would be a good time to talk about it. In hindsight, you probably shouldn’t have chosen this place as a venue for your greatest showdown. But you knew that this night would inevitably end on a bad note so what better way to soften the blow than wine and good food, right?

You checked your watch for the nth time before texting Seungcheol once again, asking him about his whereabouts. It was already 47 minutes past your agreed call time and he was still nowhere to be seen nor has he replied to any of your texts. You took a deep breath in frustration, your nails furiously tapping on the table. You didn’t even notice that you were about to empty out your glass until the waiter came back with a pitcher, already refilling it with cold water.

Time passed agonizingly slowly. The torture was only further emphasized by the stares and whispers of people sitting at tables near yours. You already had half a mind to stand on your table and dance to macarena just so they’d actually have something to talk about other than your misery but you restrained yourself knowing that it’s the nerves talking.

Around the 1 hour mark, you finally saw a glimpse of your boyfriend’s figure around the entrance. You sat up more properly, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves as you watched him walk towards your table. He was dressed in an all-black suit and tie that hugged his body just right and his hair was combed up away from his forehead. In short, he was beautiful.

He sat down beside you in the booth, a respectable distance between you to still have enough leeway to face you properly, before huffing, “My God, the traffic was so bad. I’m sorry I’m late.”

“It’s all good,” you smiled at him, “All that matters is you’re here now.”

“Have you ordered anything yet?”

“No, not yet.” You picked up the menu and handed the extra one to him. You then signaled the waiter to take your order.

“Are we ready to order?” the waiter asked, pen and paper ready at hand.

“Yes,” you nodded, giving him your order.

“And how about you, sir?”

“I’ll have the scallops,” Seungcheol replied before taking a sip of his water.

“Oh, I’m sorry sir but we currently don’t have any available right now.”

“Oh.” he looked back at the menu, giving it another once-over before saying, “I’ll just have your steak then.”

“Okay sir,” the waiter responded, writing down both of your orders, “Is there anything else?”

“No, that’s a—”

“And your most expensive champagne, please,” Seungcheol interjected.

You glanced back at him, perplexed. The waiter nodded and left before you could say anything.

You stared at him as he nursed his glass of water, “I thought we weren’t trying to blow through our savings?”

“Whatever do you mean, darling?” he jested.

“I meant why are we spending on such an expensive wine?”

Seungcheol shrugged, “Well, we’re here to celebrate so why not?”

“We could’ve just gotten their usual wine,” you retorted, “It’s definitely gonna be cheaper than what they’re about to give us.”

Seungcheol scoffed, his grip on his glass tightening at the slightest, “You can’t really blame me, you know.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “What are you saying?”

He rolled his eyes before replying, “It’s not like I was the one who chose to celebrate in this high-end restaurant.”

“What the hell are you trying to insinuate?” you asked, clenching your teeth. This was not how you wanted this night to go. The waiter came back with the wine in hand, pouring the both of you a glass each.

Seungcheol thanked the waiter first before answering, “What I’m insinuating, as you so politely asked, is that maybe I’m not the one that’s spending all of our savings in one night.”

You gaped at him, your eyebrows raised at how absurd he was being right now, “I thought you wanted this?”

“No, I didn’t. You did.” he sneered, “You were just yapping so much about this restaurant that I said yes just so you’d shut up.”

You flinched back at his words. You didn’t think you were annoying him so badly with that. And if that was really the case, you’re pretty sure he would’ve never talked to you like that in any way. Because of it, you were more confused than ever over the situation. You narrowed your eyes, observing him for a bit. That’s when you finally noticed the subtle slur of his words and a hazy look in his eyes.

You’ve got to be kidding me, you thought. There’s no fucking way…

You leaned closer to him, trying to determine whether or not you were just imagining things. He immediately backed away from you but that was enough for you to catch a whiff of his scent. His overwhelmingly alcoholic scent.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he chuckled in confusion, pushing you away slightly with his hands on your shoulders, “What are you doing?”

“Are you…” you started, disbelief written all over your face, “Are you drunk?”

He scoffed, “And so what if I am?”

Your eyes widened, “You are drunk!”

“Would you please keep your voice down?” he hissed, “Other people are looking at us.”

“I don’t care about them!” you shouted, “What I do care about is the fact that we’re out here celebrating our anniversary and you’re drunk!”

“That’s not what it looks like.”

“Then tell me,” you retorted, “What does it look like, huh?”

“My God,” he said, exasperated, “Just let it go.”

“Let it go?” You laughed in disbelief, “Are you seriously asking me to let it go?”

“Yes! I am!” you flinched as he slammed the glass down the table. A tense silence blanketed the both of you, your heavy breaths the only sounds that were coming out from your table. It was obvious that neither of you was backing down. But the tension was cut short when the waiter finally arrived with your orders, greeting you both with comedic timing as if you weren’t just in the middle of tearing each other’s throats.

The whole dinner was spent in silence, the tension thick enough that you could cut it with a knife. And you probably would if you only had a knife in your hand right now. But alas, the clang of your spoon and fork against your plates were the only ones that could cut through. You couldn’t even look at him directly for fear that you would lose what little control that you have on you. This whole situation just further reminds you of the fact that it’s been a long time since you had a decent dinner together.

By the time you were done with your food, Seungcheol was already flagging down the waiter to pay, no doubt eager to finally get out of this restaurant. Within 5 minutes, you were out of the restaurant and walking towards your apartment.

The cold wind of the evening should’ve calmed you down but you guessed it really was only a matter of time before one of you explodes. And in all honesty, it wasn’t that surprising when that person was you.

“Aren’t we gonna talk about what just happened back there?” you stopped in your tracks before facing him but he just continued walking.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Hey!” you chased after him, firmly grasping his wrist and effectively stopping him from getting further away from you. “I’m not done talking.”

“Well, I am so let go of me.” Seungcheol tried wriggling out of your grip but even with all of those muscles, there was no escaping the grip of a woman who’s had enough.

“No, you’re not getting away from me that easily,” you huffed, “You’ve been ignoring me these past few weeks and I’ve had enough of it.”

“When did I ever ignore you?” he threw his hands up in the air, infuriated by whatever you were trying to imply.

“The gallery!” you exclaimed, “You knew how hard I worked for that and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me you weren’t coming!”

“I did tell you!”

“Yeah, okay you did.” you laughed bitterly, “You texted me you were standing me up for your friend after the whole thing was over.”

“Well, that doesn’t change the fact that I told you I won’t be coming.”

“I waited for you!” you cried out, “I waited for you while I was preparing for the event. I waited for you while I was sharing drinks and stories with my family and friends. I waited for you ‘til the very end of the event and even after that, I still waited for you.”

“You didn’t have to.” Seungcheol scoffed, crossing his arms, “You could’ve just left when you didn’t see me 5 minutes into the event. It’s not my fault you still expected me to come when it was obvious that I wasn’t coming at all.”

“Of course, I would wait for you despite all of that! You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you promised me.”

His jaw ticked, his gaze anywhere but on you. You didn’t notice you were crying until you were done talking, finally feeling the cold wind fanning the tears that were streaming down your face. Wiping your tears away, you turned yourself away from him in an attempt to compose yourself. But no protection can ever save you from what’s about to come next.

“I shouldn’t have listened to Sophie,” you heard him murmur, “I knew it wasn’t a good idea to come here.”

“W–what?” you breathed out.

He scoffed, “I didn’t even want to go to that restaurant but Sophie convinced me to go for you.”

“Sophie?”

He hummed, oblivious to the turmoil that was swirling just beneath your skin. It all made sense now. The woman that you saw in that restaurant with him was Sophie. The person he was texting that night at your dinner date was Sophie. The childhood friend he had a reunion with was Sophie. It was all Sophie. His Sophie.

“I’m done.” You declared. Time stood still between the two of you. You finally looked him in the eye, feeling all your resolve fully dissolve from your body. Whatever he saw on your face was probably a sight to behold because you saw the way he immediately sobered up, the weight of the situation finally dawning on him. You finally let go of the single thread that was holding your relationship together. You felt the rage that was once coursing through your veins be replaced with the vicious grip of numbness and indifference as you firmly said, “I’m done.”

“Wh–what do you mean?” he breathed out.

But instead of answering him, you only stared at him. You waited as your silence finally got through his thick head. You didn’t wait around to see how the end of your relationship slowly painted strokes of devastation across his face, finally deciding that it’s time for you to choose yourself. Walking away from him, you took a deep breath. After weeks of coughing up from the smoke of your burning connection, the clean air that filled your lungs was a solace you wouldn’t trade for anything at all starting now.

Taglist: @moonwonuu @belladaises @porridgesblog @sasaapportela @allys-reads @vixensss @clownprincehoeshi @gyuguys

(To everyone in the taglist, please let me know if you still want to be tagged in future works of mine. Thank you for reading and supporting! I love y'all so much 🥹🫶)

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warping-realities · 2 months ago

Text

Gracefall Operation - Prologue

Finding Joy in The Job

Alan had witnessed this scene before, always with a sense of helplessness. A suited man, distractedly talking on his cellphone, would inadvertently take a wrong turn and end up in a shady alley of the big metropolis, only to find himself surrounded by the scum of societ. Alan always hated going through this situation. He tried to get attention, shout, take any action that would not reveal to the world the secret he was hiding. However, his attempts always seemed insufficient, leaving him with a sense of helplessness.

But not this time. As he watched the middle-aged man being harassed by the thugs he would finally be able to act more assertively. The new hero chose a strategic point in a shadowy area of the dark street. Gathering courage he prepared to attack checking once more if the balaclava correctly covered his face. If someone from the outside saw the skinny boy in tactical gear approaching that group they would have thought the boy was out of his mind. And that person couldn't have been more wrong, because the only thing Alan needed was a touch, and everything would be over. The crucial point was that they didn't notice his presence until it was too late. Hence the ninja-like outfit.

Alan gave the thugs no chance to react before he struck them. Just one touch and one of them was knocked out unconscious on the ground. The second was thrown far away, crashing against a wall, falling to the ground, moaning and reluctant to get up. The last one threw a punch at the boy, who was hit hard on the face and staggered, but not before touching the bare arm of the goliath, the thug fell to the ground, with all four limbs broken. Alan, still dazed, quickly repositioned himself, fighting against the pain while dragging the executive with him to a safe place. Running he wondered why he decided to do it. He had possibly saved a life, right? So, why the feeling that it wouldn't make the slightest difference, except for the fact that he would have to explain a black eye the next day? The executive jogged with some effort beside him, probably knowing it was better for him to have a superhero giving him cover. After running a few blocks to a quieter part of the city, he felt the tension in his body dissipate, letting out a sigh, while the man looked directly at his bloody nose.

“Th-thank you...”

Said the man breathlessly. They were on the side of a clothing store in empty street. The hero was feeling his nose while the man bent over, breathing deeply. “I really don't know how to thank you, you saved my... what happened, did they hurt you?” He asked with a high-pitched voice, and eyes shining with interest as they measured Alan as if he were the most fantastic thing the man had seen in his life.

“No… It's just that it wasn't how I imagined it would be.”

“No? You just saved me. You must be proud.”

“I am, don't get me wrong, it's just that I expected more...”

The man frowned.

“You can't continue this work if you don't get satisfaction from it.”

“I'm sure many heroes don't worry about this, I shouldn't be worried about this, I… I’ll do what's necessary and deal with it. I'm sorry, you don't need to hear my complaints.”

“Don't apologize, you're right in one point, a hero needs to do what's necessary, but also doesn't need to live in martyrdom. You need to plan better so you can relax later and enjoy what you decided to do, even have fun. Tell me, what kind of martial training have you had, what protections does this uniform provide, and... well, if it's not asking too much, how exactly does your power work?”

“Well, that's asking too much, just say that one touch from me is enough to end any fight. And as for training? Well… I haven't had any, and the outfit is just something I bought at a military surplus store.”

“Oh, boy, you really didn't think before getting into this? Sorry, but we're talking about something very delicate, not just your life but also others'. Let me help you.” The man reached for a card in the pocket of his suit and handed it to Alan. “Listen. The life you chose is much more complex than picking a uniform and going around hitting others, it takes a lot of planning. But it doesn't mean you have to do it. I know some people who can help you. You overthink and hold yourself back, not reaching your full potential. You come here and she will do this for you, you'll feel that everything is right and maybe enjoy yourself a bit. If you'll excuse me, my wife is waiting for me.”

Watching the man walk away, Alan looked at the card in his hand and read the name on it, Serena Reid.

The incident still dominated his consciousness when he returned to classes the next day, to the point where he couldn't even remember the content discussed in class. He kept telling himself that he didn't need anyone's help... he was just starting, after all. Although he had to admit that the man was right about his lack of planning. He thought it would just be a matter of putting on a uniform and going to fight, that everything would work. He had the ability to copy and store moments lived by a person from a touch to later pass them on if he wanted. However, he had not considered that others could hit him to, as his black eye demonstrated. He really needed to plan and train better. But he would do it alone, improve, and get to the point where he finally feel fulfilled.

But then why did he end up calling and scheduling an appointment with the mysterious woman? The man seemed very sure in his statements about why Alan felt that sense of emptyness. And, well, it would just be a consultation, nothing too much, right?

In doubt if they would really let him enter a building in broad daylight with his face covered, Alan arrived in a modern office building, Serena's office was on the tenth floor. Entering he was greeted by shiny porcelain floors, expensive art and a very well-lit hall. If they hadn't informed him that the consultation would be free, he would have turned around at that exact moment.

Too late, standing next to the receptionist was the man he had saved. "I'm glad you accepted the offer. You won't regret it. My name is Larry, by the way."

Alan followed him to the elevator, making small talk about the work there. Apparently, all the offices in that building belonged to a large corporation, which didn't prevent them from doing some pro-bono work occasionally, like help Alan. He wouldn't be the first or the last hero full of uncertainties to enter that building.

“Although certainly, everyone left there extremely satisfied, of course," said the man, pompously. In the excitement of the other night, Alan hadn't noticed that trait, but it made sense, after all what kind of executive would the man be if he didn't display some confidence?

---

As they walked through the office complex something caught Alan's attention. There were many guys there who seemed out of place. Broad and muscular, could they be other heroes in disguise? No, they didn't have that spark of goodness; these were brutish men with the air of danger that mercenaries should present. They were by no means the type of people he expected to see in that place.

"Ah, yes, our field team. Later you will have the opportunity know them better. We've arrived!" Larry opened a large door, gesturing for him to enter revealing an opulent office, where sitting at an elegant desk was a beautiful asian woman in her thirties, who smiled at the young man.

"Please, have a seat, Mister...?"

"I, well, I haven't chosen a hero name yet."

"A bad start, dear, if I may offer a small critique. Please, have a seat. And Larry, if you could kindly wait a moment before leaving."

Alan sat in the armchair in front of the woman as requested. With each step he took, he was overwhelmed by the exasperating feeling of entering some monster's lair, although Serena's beautiful face revealed no danger.

"Comfortable, Alan?" she asked, her smile widening.

"How... how...?"

"What kind of company do you think we would be if we didn't have enough resources to discover the identity of new potential assets, my dear? Let me introduce ourselves , I’m Serena Reid CEO of the Meng Po Company, while Larry here, whom you so bravely saved, is the head of our acquisitions department. Now, with introductions made, I would like you to explain to us how your abilities work. That way, we can have an understanding of what you can do and the best way to help you reach your full potential."

Alan had not explained the entirety of his abilities to anyone else. Having had them for only a few months, even he did not know their full extent and was not comfortable sharing that information; That situation was making him uneasy.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Reid, but I don't feel comfortable..."

"No need for Mrs. Reid, dear, we are all friends here, aren't we? And why don't you relax a bit?." She said with a melodious voice, and Alan felt all the tension melt away. "You sought us out asking for help, so let us help you, and for that, we need to know how your abilities work."

Yes, he wanted help, so he needed to let these people help him...

"I collect and store memories of any kind. Later can relive them in other people, exactly as it happened with the one who lived it the first time, and for that, I just need a touch."

"Fascinating, so you can turn something intangible into action. Reminds me a lot of the powers of an old hero, have you heard of the Deceiver?"

"Deceiver was an illusionist, ma'am, what I do is real."

"Oh, my dear, I know. But believe me, his illusions can seem very real to those who fall into his web."

"You speak as if he were alive, but he passed away years ago, killed in action."

"Boy, the keyword here is Deceiver, and if he's dead, how can he be standing right behind you?"

"What?" he asked, startled, turning to see the man behind him, but that was... "But it's just Larry."

"And just Larry is exactly what he wanted you to see, look again." Alan look back, only to find a man completely different from the one who was there before. While the other was thin and emaciated, this one was strong and robust, taller than Alan by several inches. Black skin but with an ethnic mix that Alan couldn't quite define, but there was certainly something Asian in him.

"I'm sorry for deceiving you, Alan, but I needed to test you. What we do here is very important. As a way of apologizing, let me introduce myself: I am Anan Tsé, formerly known as the Deceiver. My identity and the fact that I am alive are something few know and I hope it stays that way. Telling you these things is a vote of confidence."

Alan was speechless. Deceiver was a great hero, but it didn't seem right; however, before he could speak, Serena spoke again with that melodious voice.

"Relax, Alan, you can trust us. You trust us, otherwise why would you be here?"

Yes, he trusted them, he was here, wasn't he?

"Yeahhh, of course..."

"Great, then it's time to speak openly. We weren't completely honest with you, we've been watching you for a few weeks and we already had a good idea of what your power would be. There are certain types of incidents that are unique, almost impossible to happen twice, let alone three or four times. So when you do exactly that, it became clear that you could reproduce the same incident multiple times. That's why Anan needed to test you personally. He met a man a long time ago who was capable of something similar, but the most interesting thing wasn't that, was it, Anan?".

"Exactly, of course I could be wrong, but it was worth the risk. And jackpot, your powers are exactly as my old friend's. You don't realize it because you haven't trained it properly but your power is more than you realize. Even more so when combined with mine. My illusions affect the world in an immaterial way; the damage I produce happens inside people's minds... unless... how's that nose, kid?"

"Broken, but getting better, not thanks to you." Alan replied, indignation winning over the molasses in his head.

"But if what I do are just illusions, how could your nose be broken?" Anan asked with a mocking smile.

"I... I don't know."

"Let me clarify then. You think you only work with copied memories, but in reality, your powers go beyond that. You alter reality on a very small scale. So, when you were hit by that punch from my illusion, your body unconsciously responded the way it should have if it had been hit for real."

"What? That's..."

"Impossible? Your nose clearly says otherwise, dear." Interjected Serena. "In any case, this gave us a very interesting idea. Anan here suffered an incident some time ago; we both suffered, in reality. On the day of his supposed death, we were together..."

"Together? But Deceiver died in a fight of the Alliance against the Supreme Trio... against the ... Serena Reid? Serenaid? You are the Siren."

"Congratulations, kid, you didn't take long!"

"Your voice, I... what are you doing to me?" he asked, trying to cover his ears.

"Don't be silly. Everyone assumes my power is in my voice, but that's not real; my power is in my glands."

"Pheromones!!!"

"My, my, you're really smart, kid; naive but smart. It's no use covering your ears or trying to hold your breath... with me, it's skin deep. My pheromones hit all your exposed areas: nostrils, skin, and leave you... open to my suggestions... so why don't you relax a little more and listen to what I have to say, since we're such close friends that we know everything about each other's powers."

Alan tried to fight the feeling of numbness unsuccessfully. He should try to run, try to touch both of them and give them the worst moments from the memories he had collected as a volunteer in various trauma hospitals over the past few months. But he did none of that; he just stood there, paralyzed, with the agonizing feeling of being anesthetized in the face of danger, unable to do anything to change that.

"Now that we're more relaxed, let me continue." Anan, lend me the device, dear." Deceiver approached the table and handed her a small metallic sphere.

"This is one of the little wonders that Techno created and provided to the members of the Alliance. It allows storing some types of powers and releasing them in the way the bearer wishes. This one is always charged with my pheromones, to ensure Anan's loyalty wherever he goes. He has been under my command for so long that using the device is no longer necessary, but a cautious woman is worth a battalion. You must be wondering how one of world the greatest heroes is doing alongside a convicted criminal?"

Alan was not in a condition to wonder about anything while trying unsuccessfully to overcome the stupor that engulfed him. The only response to leave his lips was a grunt.

"Anh..."

"Well, maybe I exaggerated a bit with you but as I said, I'm a cautious woman. The answer to this question lies in the incident we were both involved in two years ago. But before we get there, I need to tell you more. Haven't you wondered why no other hero has contacted you in these months? Well, it's because they were obscured; they don’t know about your existence. Their trackers in most major countries have been compromised, thanks to Anan's good work. They still inform the Alliance of most new heroes, but those that are of our interest. This is extremely important for us. You would know the reason if the usual contact process had been carried out. The Alliance establish contact as quickly as possible with new candidates, even if they do not end up being selected. Their goal is installing a small intradermal device, another of Techno's inventions, with the ability to block any kind of mental control powers, mine included. He’s such annoying nerd. However, even he couldn’t predict everything. During our fight against the Alliance, my brother hit Deceiver with an energy blast before being eliminated. In my rage over Ampere's death, I released all my powerful pheromones; nothing should have happened, of course. However, to my surprise, Deceiver remained under my total command and quickly created the illusion of our deaths. After that the Trio was dismantled and I had to restructure. Without the other two, I could focus on my own goals. The truth is that I never cared about the Trio's manifesto; I just followed my brother and his friend's wishes. So, using my powers and Anan's combined, I created an empire. Reaper can rot in jail; if it weren't for his influence, Ampere... Armand would be alive. And regarding the Alliance, I will never forgive them for taking my brother from me, but it is not enough to take their lives; I want them humiliated at my feet. And you will help me with that, dear."

Alan again did not respond, which seemed to irritate Siren.

"You are so unamusing; I will lower the intensity a bit so we can have a decent conversation. In the meantime, let me explain your role in this story. Over the past two years, Anan and I have tried to recreate the incident to disable the device in some lesser heroes, without success. Either the charge used was too weak, or so strong that it killed our test subjects, or the problem was another: it had to be Ampere's energy to work, or worse, a perfect combination of the events of that day, which would clearly be impossible, but... Anan?”

"But it turns out that it's not impossible, just very unlikely; it would require an unique combination. One that I myself experienced but unfortunately did not have the means to recreate. This was almost thirty years ago; the Alliance had not yet been established, and the sharing of information about superhuman abilities was scarce. In my search for knowledge, I found an old man with the same powers as you, kid. Together we experimented and to our surprise we managed to combine our powers. The trick was to deceive the part of his consciousness that made his powers work and thus turn an illusion into reality. And that was one of the most incredible things I have ever witnessed. We conjectured for some time about the possibilities that this gave us; with the right approach, we could rewrite a person's entire history, turn a criminal into someone useful for society, or even reverse aging process. However, since he could only retain memories of a few minutes, that remained just a theory. Only a few years later were the first enhancers identified, but it was too late; my old friend had left this world."

"Which doesn't mean that someone with a similar power couldn't appear again; unlikely but not impossible. So we pooled the company's resources in two fronts: one focused on identifying and recruiting as many enhancers as possible and the other on finding someone with the same powers. Anan managed to infiltrate among the Alliance trackers to facilitate this. And now we are here, finally ready to test his hypothesis and start my revenge."

"Why..."

"What, dear?"

"Why... help her... Deceiver... fight against... you... hero."

"Kid, you heard Serena say it yourself, she no longer needs to use her powers on me; I am her ally. This toy is just a guarantee on her part. A guarantee totally unnecessary, as she knows well."

"Silly boy, if I had patience I would do to you what I did to him; in five years you would be a totally different person, but I want more, and I want it now."

"No... never... impossible..."

"Impossible doesn’t exist for people like us. Get ready; You can send the girl in, Anan."

Anan headed to the doors and returned with a young woman who seemed to radiate power.

"Faye is our most skilled enhancer; she is charged with the power of all the others we have gathered for our ranks. It’s so much energy that if released in some heroes could cause catastrophic changes in the world, but this time it will be just in one person. Rest now, dear."

The feeling of stupor intensified, mixing with a feeling that something extremely wrong, was going to happen to him and then Alan felt a hand guiding his bare hand his other hand, while he struggled to overcome those sensations, knowing what was coming.

"Annnh..." His eyes widened as he fought to stop it, only to discover he had no strength in him. He began to visibly sweat as the first images began to appear before him, it was a matter of seconds before his powers activate, so he try even more desperately to escape that predicament.

"You are going to give me what I want." Serena's voice lost its softness. "This will be easier for all of us if you stop trying to resist." This only made the young man want to fight even more. He grunted defiantly as he looked at the beautiful woman who seemed ready to devour him alive, and then, summoning strength he didn’t know where it came from, he screamed as he felt something starting to stir inside him. He groaned as he felt his whole body contract in the prison that was that armchair, his arms flexing, his abdomen cramping, his legs outstretched. As the images passed before him, too quickly to be truly understood, he felt something he had never felt before: his raw power coursing through his whole body while something very different of himself began to awaken in a deep corner of his mind, advancing slowly but steadily to the surface. That thing brought with it an aggressiveness he had never experienced before; he wanted to punch someone, blow heads off, break legs! As Alan struggled to contain that invasion of his consciousness, he let out a grunt that resembled a growl through his clenched teeth. That torrent of indecipherable images were beginning to alter him more profoundly. They came like a wave pushing him to accept what was happening, and he realized that he wanted part of it: the adrenaline of battle, the sensation of crushed bones under his fist and broken necks under his feet, always living at the center of the action. The young man with wavy blonde hair, lost in that myriad of sensations, did not notice when someone removed the hood and mask he was wearing, or that his hair was slowly darkening and shortening. As his jaw widened and sculpted into a square shape, his neck bulged with pure muscle and his chest expanded forward. Why had he never tried to exercise properly? Why hadn’t he trained in any fighting? He was a hero; this should be basic! Besides, that would be fun, and he needed a little fun in his life while having such a responsible job.

As the images continued to swirl in his head his biceps contracted and relaxed reaching the size of cannonballs. His chest expanded absurdly, widening and projecting, while his lats grew to the point where it seemed that two wings were coming out from there, forcing the t-shirt he was wearing into tatters, partially hanging from his immense physique. He really needed to put more effort into his training; after all, his strength and dexterity were what made him known. Of course, his powers helped, but many times he didn’t even use it just to ensure more fun while doing his job. The whirlwind of images spun, in his head. As the pace increased, he could practically feel his mind shrinking while that other brutal will expanded. The two consciences touched in an assimilation process as his modified memories began to solidify... The memory that he had entered in college thanks to his GPA disappeared, replaced by the fact that his entry was due to a wrestling and gymnast scholarship. His legs expanded, thighs transforming into tree trunks, calves into defined diamonds, his butt growing , two perfect muscular globes.

Suddenly, the flow of memoreis began to slow down, perhaps approaching the end; Came the moment of discovering his abilities; it was awese! He relived the moment he used his powers against thugs in a dark alley, laughing at the fallen idiots. Now his feet increased from a discreet size eight to a gigantic size thirteen, bursting the too-small sneakers and socks, exposing the massive paws covered with thick veins that emanated an animalistic funk.

Slowly, a wave of thick black hair began to spread from his toes to the base of his thighs, transforming his smooth crotch into a thicket that almost completely hid his average cock. The hair continued its advance, while images of other street fights filled his head, many of them started by him for no major reason. A treasure trail formed on his abdomen, slightly covering the defined six-pack, while the two slabs of meat that were his pecs became covered by a thick layer, and his pits by two giant funky bushes. Finally, his new square face was covered by a well trimmed beard, the bruises fading, while his was shaved in a military buzzcut. His bright blue eyes slowly took on a brown hue, while a spark of intelligence was replaced by malice. When a tanned tone spread across his skin another memory of his abilities capabilities took the forefront. It was the recollection of a night when he had made three women from his college climax in a loop. Reliving that made his dick come alive inside the underwear that was almost ripping apart due to the pressure exerted by his massive thighs and giant ass. The addition of a thick cock was the final blow, making his underwear tear and exposing the engorged nine inches python.

The growing man roared as the muscles of his entire body tensed again, definition forming in all of them, the striations visible, a huge scar in his pec. He had become the perfect specimen physically, but that was still not enough; a body that size couldn't belong to an eighteen-year-old wrestler and gymnast. That was the body of a mature experienced in man... which he truly was. After dropping out of college in his junior year, he enlisted and ended up joining the SEALs, his appearance and heritage were usefull in operations in the Middle East. During the seven years he served his body had gone from lean and strong to a tremendous mass of raw muscular power.

After being discharged, he had done his work in all corners of the world; his name was whispered in fear from the bustling streets of New Delhi to the narrow alleys of Eastern Europe.

"no...."

Those people were trying to turn him into a war machine, and the worst part was that he liked what he was becoming, a being of pure masculinity who would be in command of any battle, ensuring that enemies were broken and incapacitated, out of commission for a long time, if not permanently. He didn't care if the opponents remained on the ground forever. The two entities inside him were already so amalgamated that any attempt to fight against the process became an impossible struggle. Alan had become an efficient brute, a powerful warrior devoid of mercy while doing his job, reveling in it, with a playful smile always on his face. That last spark of resistance extinguished taking with it all the arguments for why he should have fought against what was being done to him, while his hardened cock shot a torrent of cum into the air and he was overwhelmed by an extreme sensation of pleasure before suddenly losing consciousness.

"Alan, are you listening to me?"

"It's Aslan, ma'am; it means lion." replied the muscular giant to the beautiful woman leaning against his chest, the two laying on the persian rug in her luxurious office after countless hours of wild sex.

"Whatever your name is, if you're going to work for me, it's important that you listen while I'm talking to you. Just because we're occasional fuck partners doesn't mean this will change; I demand respect from all my employees, including my head of security and tactical operations. Are we understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Great. As I was saying before you got distracted, before we put Operation Gracefall into practice, I need to test you in the field."

"I believed my credentials spoke for me."

"I am a cautious woman. I may be dying for revenge on those fools, but first we need to test if Anan's memory will work on the blocking device. Understand that this is for your own safety; your ability is incredible, but it's no match for the heavyweights of the Alliance, at least not yet. We'll work on that, but first I need to test you. So listen closely to my instructions."

….

Aslan confidently entered the company field operations GQ, quickly gathering his team.

"Gentlemen, my name is Aslan Ayad; you may refer to me as Sir or Commander. Tonight we will have a special operation. The Lady Boss wants us to capture a rookie hero and bring him here for recruitment. Apparently, normally this is a job done by Mr. Anan Tsé, but she wants to test my skills and yours. Any questions?"

"Sir, Sorry, but why does the boss want us to capture a rookie?"

"Because, soldier, it seems that the kid hasn’t been contacted by the Alliance yet, which means he hasn’t had the blocking device applied to him, making him quite susceptible to her powers."

"What kind of rookie goes out to patrol without proper protection?"

"Did I ask you something or authorize you to speak, soldier?"

"No, sir; sorry, sir!"

"That’s better. To facilitate communication, all of you are now authorized to speak without asking for my permission. Regarding your question, I asked myself the same thing. God, I was an idiot at the age when my powers manifested, but I would never be foolish enough to dress like a clown and not wear the right protections."

"So you never thought of being a superhero, sir?"

"Me, a superhero? I’ve been hero enough serving my country for so long, only to be discarded for doing my job too well. It's not my fault the black ops were fun. But this business of a cape crusade would never give me the satisfaction I seek. Ok boys, enough of small talk, I want all equipment tested multiple times in the next hours. After that we will have some fun. We have a naive goodie to recruit and I plan to enjoy every minute of it!"

#male tf #mind change #reality change #corruption #mental transformation #race change #arab tf #corruption kink #mind corruption

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deadbydangit · 10 months ago

Note

I read your one imagine about sleeping next to the killer, can I request something similar with the ghostface, the knight, and the blight. ☆

I absolutely can. I have so many good ideas for this one that I just thought of. Please enjoy.

Sleeping with them: Ghostface, Knight, Blight

Ghostface

Oh, you think sleeping next to Danny is going to be fun?

Well you're wrong.

First off, this guy is a blanket hog.

It won't matter if you put extra blankets on yourself, he's stealing them.

And he won't even know he's doing it.

He just pulls them on himself.

Then he wakes up cover and sweat and complains about it.

You can mention the issue to him, but he knows there's not much he could do about it.

And it isn't really his fault.

So make sure to hold those blankets tight.

Second, he is super squirmy.

There are two types of people when sleeping: those who sleep peacefully and of those who kick everything around and won't say still.

Danny is definitely the second.

He's a wild sleeper, so don't be surprised when you end up being kicked in the middle of the night.

He doesn't mean to do it. It really isn't his fault.

If you mention it to him in the morning he will apologize.

He also talks in his sleep.

And it's really funny.

It makes absolutely no sense.

"It's Taco day, so I want sprinkles."

"Frogs don't have wings, they aren't people."

Sometimes he'll even be talking about you in his sleep.

Mumbling about how much he loves you.

Like he's having a conversation with someone and bragging about you.

It's really sweet. But if you mention it to him the next morning he won't remember a thing.

Despite all this, he's very cuddly.

Before you both fall asleep, he wants to be the big spoon and hold on to you.

It's his way of protecting you from anything that might harm you.

Even if there's no harm around, he just wants to hold you.

Knight

Sleeping next to Tarhos isn't as bad as sleeping next to Danny.

He isn't squirmy and doesn't kick.

He's very still and silent when he sleeps.

Occasionally, he moves slightly.

But, other than that he stays pretty still.

Overall he's a pretty good sleeping partner.

Well, except, he won't take the helmet off!

Yeah, he sleeps with it on.

And, no, he won't take it off no matter how many times you ask him to.

He claims it's 'a crucial part of his identity'.

It's also very uncomfortable to sleep near him.

Forget about hugging or spooning.

You're going to hit your head and it isn't going to feel good.

That helmet is made of metal.

Do you have any idea how hard that is?

Imagine you're sleeping and you suddenly move, then you hit your head on metal.

That's certainly one way to ruin a good night's sleep.

Oh, and he always wants to hold on to you.

He claims it's his way of protecting you.

'The realm is very dangerous, so let me protect you my love.'

You can tell him how uncomfortable it is, but he won't listen to you.

Again, it's a crucial part of his identity.

And even if you do learn to sleep through hitting your head on metal, that helmet is covered in rust and dried blood.

Now imagine waking up with all that gross dirt, grime, and blood all over you.

All over the bed sheets, all over your clothes, and worst of all, all over your face.

He's used to sleeping and dirty conditions, so it doesn't really phase him.

If you beg enough, he will clean his helmet off at the very least.

On the plus side, he's an early riser so he's usually not there when you wake up.

You have the whole bed to yourself to sleep in.

And he's very careful about not waking you up, he even tucks you in after he's gotten out of bed.

He claims he doesn't do that. But seeing how neat and tidy the tuck is, it's pretty obvious he tucks you back in.

He'll also whisper sweet words to you right before you fall asleep.

All about how amazing you are and how special you are to him.

About how he'll protect you from the world if he has to.

Blight

Arguably, one of the best sleeping partners.

You'd figure his goo would get on everything and anything.

But that isn't the case.

Actually he doesn't need to sleep.

Or, he can't anymore. He isn't really sure which.

You might feel bad for him. But he really doesn't mind not being able to sleep.

Otherwise, he knows he'll be plagued by nightmares.

But that won't stop him from making sure you have a good night's sleep.

Just because he isn't entirely human anymore and doesn't need to sleep, doesn't mean you don't have to.

His bedtime ritual for you is very luxurious and loving.

Being a scientist, he knows a lot about the human body.

He knows your sleep cycle and knows how to best get you asleep.

Routine is key. And he knows that.

Even if you aren't tired, he'll try to get you to relax around the same time every night.

He'll make sure you have plenty of blankets and are warm enough.

He can't really kiss you with his mouth as it is. So he'll make do with petting your hair very softly and soothingly.

Just that is almost enough to put anyone to sleep.

If you can't sleep, he'll first make you some tea to help you relax.

Believe me, he is an expert on making tea.

And, somehow, he never ends up getting goo in it.

If that doesn't work, he'll read you a book.

When he reads his voice is so soft and relaxing you can't help but fall asleep to it.

If none of that works, he will cuddle with you just for a little while.

He doesn't want to get you all gooey and gross.

And he does so out of love.

He just wants to make sure you feel comfortable and loved the whole night.

#dbd imagines #dbd ask blog #dbd x reader #dbd killer #dbd ghostface #dbd blight #dbd knight

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stjohnstarling · 3 months ago

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Hello! Love 'What Manner of Man'! It inspired me to make my own vintage gay story myself!

But I'm having an issue with outlining, since outlining a novel feels more close-ended than a longer-form serial novel is.

Do you have any advice? Or resources, etc?

So you have no way of knowing this, but I am actually obsessed with story structure. It’s maybe the part of storytelling I’ve spent the most time consciously working with, so sorry in advance because I’m about to go on a dubiously helpful monologue. It’s a bit tricky for me to answer about resources, since the things I used when I was learning have been lost to the sands of time. That being said I have a couple pieces of advice:

If you don’t know what you’re doing, don’t be afraid to find a template. I wish I could link you a good one but I don’t have any on hand. When I was first learning to write novels, I actually found a few different standard novel structure templates and used them to outline a bunch of novels I never intended to write, as practice. Bad and silly ones that were just fun to play with, where there was no pressure to write anything I’d ever want anyone to see. My background is in music, so my instinct when I don’t know how to do something is to isolate that element and practice it on its own, and it’s never steered me wrong.*

But more than that - what you’re feeling as closed-ended is that you’re trying to write a story with structure, as opposed to one that is mostly improvised. I remember feeling this too, when I first started exploring writing novels, but this is one of those cases where limitations are actually what gives you freedom.

Structure is part of the artistry of storytelling - just like poetry has forms like sonnets and sestinas, and songs have verses, bridges, and choruses. You know intuitively the structure of a pop song, and that heightens the pleasure of listening to one as you anticipate the build up to the chorus. Stories are like this too. The structure is an important part of the audience’s enjoyment of the final piece, whether they know it or not.

I’ll give an example. Season one of AMC’s The Terror is a piece of fiction that is structured with some serious artistry, above and beyond just good craftsmanship, its structure is a crucial part of how it creates meaning. As a result a lot of what its fans do is analyze it for parallels in its storytelling. I don’t think many of them would articulate what they enjoy about it as “this is a well structured story,” but the structure is actually one of the main things the fandom engages with.

More than any writing resource, the best way to learn is to study and analyze stories you admire - why things are put in a certain order and why events fall at the points in the story that they do. When are you anticipating, when are you experiencing catharsis, where in the story do those things happen? Explore widely! You don’t have to limit yourself to novels! Movies are great for getting a basic understanding of how you can structure a story because the time and space requirements they’re subject to mean movies tend to be very rigidly structured. There’s no time to mess around like there is in long forms of fiction like novels.

I encourage you to embrace structure as a part of the art and a potential tool for expression and beauty! I can’t tell you how rewarding it is.

*I am aware that this advice does not work for a lot of people, so if it doesn’t work for you that is also perfectly fine! Everyone is different.

#original post #asks #Sorry this is so fuckin long lol this is a huge topic #long post

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alyona11 · 8 months ago

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Ok time for my big Hadestown hot take and that’s that West End Hadestown doesn’t give you a 100% Hadestown experience. It’s still ridiculously good and 100% worth seeing, don’t get me wrong (I used my opportunity and saw it twice and will likely see it again if I’m in London), but it kinda made me realise a couple of things about OBC production that will always be my Roman Empire and make me deeply upset Broadway is too greedy to give us an OBC proshot.

So, here are some of my thoughts and reflections based on seeing Hadestown live on West End + seeing different versions (including London National theatre proshot) in boots. I think you can pretty solidly say that in Hadestown there are 2 main stories: Orpheus/Eurydice and Hades/Persephone. And even though arguably Orphedice is the main most important story, it my opinion it also wins from Hadesphone story being strong. Which works perfectly in OBC due to Amber Gray and Patrick Page delivering a very deep nuanced performances as their characters.

I think part of the success of Hadestown when it works on its fullest is how it creates a very deep emotional journey. And I feel that regardless which pair of Orpheus and Eurydice you have (if we take Broadway/tour/West End take on the characters) it’ll still work! Like you need to try really hard to mess up orphedice the way people wouldn’t root for Orpheus or wouldn’t empathise with Eurydice because they are so relatable and cute. You instantly love them, they are so so lovable. So orphedice part is one thing in Hadestown that imo works if not always then in 99% of the cases.

Hades and Persephone’s part of the story in the contrary is VERY hard to nail on 100%, in my opinion, and this is literally driving me crazy. Maybe seeing Amber Gray and Patrick page in professional recording awoken some feelings in me, I don’t know. I will state straight away that I also do enjoy other actors’ takes on characters and I do see some very interesting character moments there and there. However, I keep returning to the thought that Amber/Patrick’s characterisation works SO WELL for the main narrative. I’ll try to explain why I think so. Consider it my love letter to the OBC.

First and foremost, I feel like Hadesphone story has a very fine dynamic that the actors have to nail, so you would feel that: 1) these two still love each other; 2) these two are buried under their problems and see no way out, only a miracle (aka Orpheus and his song) can save their marriage.

And if the first one usually works at least due to Epic 3, the second one, imo, often (at least partially) falls victim to acting/directing choices which can cause troubles with point 1 as well. I think one big thing I’ve noticed is that often Persephone’s alcoholism gets forgotten in the acting performance. Like yeah sure her choreography includes drinking from a flask but in comparison to Amber you never get a feeling that she is absolutely wasted. Which, is in my opinion something that you should feel when you’re watching the show and something I was constantly forgetting about when I was watching the show on West End. I feel in Amber’s performance you can constantly see that her Persephone’s feel good attitude is a façade of a broken person who knows that her marriage is going to hell in front of her eyes yet she is too passive and hopeless to try to make an active change (well, she does try in Chant and nothing happens), so her only way is to chase the sense of normality that the “medicine” gives her. But when she is alone, if you get to catch a moment when people are not looking at her, you can see a deep sadness under her positive front and her memory of the old days when everything was more simple. Nevertheless, the main point that the lyrics literally say is that Persephone is blinded by the river of wine. And this is crucial to her character and her relationship with Hades because the story states that even though Hades is a problem and he is an active actor in creating more problems, he is not the only failure in this relationship. Persephone needs to be woken up from her apathy almost as much as Hades does and this is something that we see during If It’s True.

From Hades’ side I feel like it’s not a good decision to make him a total villain because when he is irredeemable you don’t feel like the whole “song that will fix the world” has any chance of working long term. I think Patrick nailed a deep antagonist very well. His Hades is weird and lowkey creepy and alien. He does objectively bad things but when you look at him you can’t stop thinking that he doesn’t operate in regular human logic or morality. When I look at him in Chant, it feels to me that his words about building stuff to impress Persephone are absolutely sincere, and I can absolutely see that his Hades doesn’t understand why she is so upset about it when his intentions are so so clear. Maybe it’s my vision but even before Epic 3 when he is so far gone and buried in his projects and messed up ideas I don’t have a single doubt that Persephone is a single motivator and goal of Patrick Hades’ life and that he literally doesn’t need any other being to care about. And tragically this fixation is what makes him blind to all other things he does even if those things ruin Persephone’s life (and other people’s but tbh I don’t think he cares).

I feel like by removing Persephone’s Chant 2 verse Hadestown created more problems for Hades and Persephone part of the story making it a much harder job for the actors to prove to the audience that Hades and Persephone have a chance to make their relationship work. Like I get that maybe it was a necessary things to do (even though I think the show is much better with it) but it made it so much harder to empathise with this particular part of the story unless the actors use the choices that work in the narrative. Because for example when I was watching the show on West End part of me was wondering “what is Persephone’s deal in all of that, what does she win by staying with Hades?” With the verse, and with Broadway Previews or London 2018 in particular this part was clear: Persephone still loves Hades and believes that he has the opportunity to change and become a better man he used to be. Without the verse, however, the actors should give you the same idea during the show which is a hard task considering Hades and Persephone have only 2 big conversations together (Chant and How Long). So apart from those songs there are only subtle mostly silent moments they get together through which the actors have to convey the same thought which is hella difficult and probably hardly will be appreciated by anyone apart from the people who sit closely.

So, maybe because in the actor combo I saw (Zachary and Lauren), I got a feeling that even though they were great separately, I didn’t feel much chemistry between them as a pair. I think, Persephone seemed pissed and tired of Hades all the time until How Long and I didn’t feel that she still believes in his willingness to change. And Zach Hades despite being entertaining, kinda gives the impression of Hades who has other options, he is not into Persephone enough. The only sparkle appears between the two in Epic III which is still cute but I’m not sure if it works just as well if that’s the first time you see the show? Also considering Zach Hades gives more malicious intent in His Kiss, The Riot it seems that he is not even slightly interested in Orpheus having any opportunity to succeed with his quest. Which is not bad, don’t get me wrong! But in comparison to Patrick who is deeply self projecting into Orpheus to the point where you could see that even though he doesn’t want to let him go, part of him does because it would prove he too could succeed in his challenge of waiting for Persephone, this take seems a bit lacking. And overall because of His Kiss, their promise in Wait For Me doesn’t seem as giving much hope that the story won’t repeat itself next Sunday. Which in its turn makes Orpheus’ sacrifice feel a bit… worthless. If on Broadway, when Orpheus turns, but spring comes again you feel like it is the start of something new: hopefully a kinder and softer time. On West End the show also wants you to feel it but when you think about Hades and Persephone you feel…less certainty that this sacrifice will have a long term effect?

I guess the creators wanted to concentrate on Orpheus and Eurydice more and forget about Hades and Persephone by making them more secondary story or maybe there was a lack of director’s involvement to give the cast some hints on how to make this particular part of the story work better, but it feels to me that in its current state the show works in its 85% power which is still great but once you know there is something missing you can’t stop thinking about it and wishing the show would give you those 15% you crave.

#me being me #hadestown #thanks for coming to my ted talk #I still immensely enjoyed the production and would come see it again #but when you know the show at its fullest you seem to miss some parts that worked better #also I was able to appreciate the same cast from different angles the second time I could see them from the first row so I could #get a clear view of their acting #and don’t get me wrong Zach and Lauren are really interesting to watch and I liked them #but also I started thinking if it was my first time to watch the show would I understand the appeal of Hades/Persephone line?#and I can’t stop thinking about it #hades #Persephone #hadestown broadway #hadestown west end #it’s also not about WE only but just about some characterisations I saw from different actors in different productions #I just felt like it would be fair to compare to the production and cast I saw life because obviously bootlegs even the greatest are not #the same #thanks for reading this long post

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freakassfemme · 8 months ago

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[QueerFic's] NSFW Alphabet: Yara Greyjoy

A/N: Hello!!! Yes, this has been done before, but I wanted to give my own personal spin on Yara's NSFW alphabet:)

NO MINORS BEYOND THIS POINT

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

In my mind, Yara is quite the chatterbox. She's not really up for extensive aftercare, though she certainly wouldn't refuse a bath together, but I feel like aftercare for Yara resides in conversation or physical touch. Did you enjoy yourself? What did you like? How do you feel? She wants to hold you and draw out those last fleeting sparks from the skin to skin contact.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Yara is an ass woman. Everyone's got an ass, man or woman, and she loves them all. Having something soft to grab on to, and the way that it extends into your hips, your thighs, she adores it.

On herself, I think Yara probably likes her hands or her shoulders. She likes something that makes her feel strong, and her arms bare the most of the physical labor and fighting she does, so they remind her of her capability and strength, and it kind of turns her on a little bit. She likes to be intimidating.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

Especially with women, Yara is a swallower. It's symbolic of her hard work, and I think she views it as a reward rather than an end goal, and something for you to both enjoy. I think Yara has a bit of an oral fixation, so I'm sure she loves to have her face covered in it in all honesty, or to ride her partner's face and have it on theirs.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Yara loves to seduce any woman on the ship. Crewmate, passenger, prisoner, it's her little game of cat and mouse, and she plans on winning.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

I don't remember if this is canonical or just fandom stuff, but I heard/read somewhere Yara has fucked a woman from each of the seven kingdoms? Yeah I believe that. She's probably aiming for 20 from each about now.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Yara loves to ride, Yara loves to be ridden. It's a must for her. I feel like she would also love having someone in her lap, or missionary or a mating press. Anything that commands power, eye contact, and complete openness or vulnerability,

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

She'll definitely crack a joke or two, especially in aftercare. We all love Yara for her smart mouth, boldness and outright attitude, and I don't think that's something that simply slips away when she's horny.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I don't think she cares, and tbh I don't think she cares about other people's grooming either. Definition of "baby call me Moses cause I'm gonna part the Red Sea" or "the wilderness must be explored" or something LMFAO

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Intimacy is key for her! And being a little silly or sarcastic doesn't ruin that intimacy. She needs to feel a connection to the person, and she thrives on that moment when she "syncs" with someone and it turns into more of a dance or rhythm. Eye contact is crucial.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

In some ways I feel like Yara is a 5 minutes and go girl, or she's just too busy and just waits to find a partner, but I also like to think about her late at night in her bed, full of her own fingers, without a care in the world.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

VOYEUR oh my GOD I am a devout believer in voyeur Yara. YES she would fuck you in front of her whole crew, in ANY throne room, on ANY ship, in ANY dining room, for fun or to prove a point. She herself might not get naked, but she loves that anyways, it makes her feel so powerful to be fully dressed while her partner is bare and vulnerable.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

I feel like Yara loves to fuck in public, like on the deck late at night or giving head on a balcony somewhere, but I feel like she also holds a special place for her own large bedroom, perhaps a secluded tower, where she can really lean into her deepest desires and do whatever she pleases, even if it involves getting a little sadistic.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

When is she not ready to go???? I feel like she's always ready ngl, but I feel like if she saw you fight someone off or help with manual labor, she'd go nuts. Or like sitting on her lap in front of the crew, making any bold comments or attitude.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Yara is up for a threesome, foursome or orgy on occasion, but she isn't going to do an open relationship in a committed relationship or marriage. If you were just a hookup buddy, it wouldn't bother her, but if you're serious, she doesn't like the idea of you being intimate without her being involved.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Head is Yara's expertise. When she gives, she usually likes to be completely in charge. When she receives, it's 50/50. Maybe she's sat up and playing head pusher, or maybe she's tied up and growling and whining.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Yara is typically large and in charge lmao. I feel like she can definitely both, but given her tendency to intimacy, multiple rounds, and basking in pleasure, I feel like she leans more towards slow and sensual, but still fairly rough, to really draw it out.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Oh she 100% would. She'd fuck you until you cum on her face then wipe her mouth and walk out on deck like nothing happened. Better a quick fuck than none at all I guess.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Absolutely. Yara loves creativity. She sleeps around because she loves new experiences, so she'll take experimentation anywhere she can get it.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Yara can definitely go for a while, especially when receiving, she's an absolute soul-sucking demon.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

YARA WITH A STRAP SUPREMACY! Yara will give that strap to anyone who asks for it, and I'm sure she'd love to ride one or get stuffed.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

We're talking about the same woman right? Yara's whole thing is teasing and banter. She's grabbing you in front of anyone and everyone, saying the nastiest things over the dinner table where anyone could hear, reaching under the table and grabbing at you.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

I feel like Yara is definitely expressive. She'll grunt and groan and let out soft moans, but she's not exceptionally loud. She moreso leans into dirty talk, but she'll get on her knees for a partner who will scream her name.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Yara has got to be a scissoring LEGEND. No strap? No problem. She's meat-to-meating that pussy like it's her dying fucking wish.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Scissoring legend is till on my mind so I'm fingers crossed for big clit Yara :') Like she has big dick energy but no dick so I'm hoping that translates.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Yara has "it's five o'clock somewhere" energy when it comes to sex, but I feel like she's definitely crazy about morning sex, or middle of the night, wake-up fucks.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I think Yara fucks in the daytime honestly more at night time, and it probably reinvigorates and energizes her because of that, so I wouldn't be surprised if it actually kept her awake and that's why she has such insane stamina.

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sekaithemystic · 2 months ago

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Neve Gallus Analysis and Theory series [Part 3]

Minrathous is broken,” Aelia spat at me. “I know,” I said. “But you aren’t the one to fix it.”

The section under this contains spoilers from the game.

[part 1] [part 2]

Circle and square diamond - Solas, Neve and the future

Shapes, right. Very interesting. Let’s start with Solas and circle first.

Solas and/or circle seem to appear everywhere in the last few teasers: the 2018 teaser, the 2020 teaser, the 2022 cinematic trailer (which is later shown to be part of the cinematic prologue of Veilguard). The circle has been seen to be the sun, the moon, the symbol of the Evanuris (especially when it’s a circle with borders), even the Veil itself.

After finishing the character creation, Solas is shown with a circle in the background again, only this time, there is also a square diamond outside the circle. Quite the noticeable change from his usual circle.

The scene shifts to Minrathous, and there you see another circle, which seems to be the moon behind the Archon’s Palace.

Here, the circle and the square diamond appear, along with Neve Gallus, with the moon being inside the square diamond.

So what’s with Neve and square diamond?

Frankly, her design has a lot of square diamonds: her fascinator (especially in this shot, is purposefully angled parallel to the outer square diamond), her earring, the back of her outfit. Even the top of her fascinator also has a circle inside a square diamond. And it’s not just Neve, Tevinter seems to have square diamonds everywhere, especially in its architecture. Just look at the Archon’s Palace.

So what does this tell us (aside from the fact that I might be crazy)?

We know that the Evanuris can call upon Archdemon aka the Old Gods and for now there are two Old Gods left of seven: Razikale and Lusacan. We suspect that there are connections between these two factions somehow. This post is just to provide further proof that there is something here between the Evanuris and Tevinter (or the Old Gods) and maybe, maybe Solas and Neve will be involved in it, or at least take a crucial part in this.

Random tidbits from me to conclude this fever dream

Neve is going to be possessed by Razikale or Lusacan. I’m a bit on Razikale, because the High Priestess of Razikale gave birth to the First Archon of Tevinter Darinius, so if Neve being Radonis’ bastard is true, we are really going full circle Tevinter here.

The first quest is “The End of the Beginning” and the objective is “Find Neve Gallus” in Minrathous. How cool would it be if our final quest is “The Beginning of the End” and the objective is still “Find Neve Gallus” in Minrathous? From the release date trailer, we know that a battle (most likely the final one) will happen in Minrathous based on the fact that the Archon’s Palace is in the background here.

The loading icon for Veilguard, if you don’t know, is made of circles, square and four-armed star

And that is the end of the series. I hope you enjoy these crazy posts!

#dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #datv #neve gallus #veilguard spoilers #solas

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kingofbodyrolls · 1 year ago

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Friendcation (m) | myg | six

Your vacation is coming to an end but your thoughts are spiraling and filled with anxiety as a tiny mishap makes you question your future with Yoongi.

→ Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female) → Other characters: Jimin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin. → Genre/AU: best friends to friends with benefits to lovers, non idol!au, camping!au, roadtrip!au, mechanic!Yoongi, humor, slight angst, smut and fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 → Status: completed! → Word Count: 11.3k → Warnings (general): angst, anxiety, talk about feelings and future, teasing friends and mention of pregnancy. → Warnings (explicit): explicit sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, protected sex, oral (female and male receiving), dirty talk, nipple/breast play, ass slapping, hair pulling. → Author’s note(1): Wow, these last weeks have been hard on me to be honest. For a moment I really struggled with dwindling engagement for the series, and it honestly made me want to quit the whole thing and not finish it… I had to realize who I write for (I concluded it’s for me) and whatever I receive is just a really nice bonus 🫰I felt like the decline in engagement meant you didn’t like the series (which is fine if you feel that way), but it hit me hard. I understand a part of it can be the recent long chapters (I’m truly sorry and I’ll be better at keeping it at 10K for a smoother reading experience in the future). I have so many stories in my head that I just want to put to paper, so I’m going to keep doing that. I think I’ll keep posting whatever new stuff I write in the future, because I think it’d just be a waste to have a full fanfiction parking in my Drive. I tried to pour my heart into the last chapters, and I’m really proud of it. To be honest, it’s mostly smut (and sexual teasing) – because well 🤷 I really hope you enjoy this chapter (and the final one). Love you 💜 → Read on AO3? [link] ✨

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next →

These past couple of days have left you with a strange, unsettling feeling.

It’s not just the relentless banter from your friends, teasing you about what they term as ‘sickening love and adoration’ between you and Yoongi.

No, there’s something more, something that eludes definition but refuses to be ignored.

As your friends continue to jest and joke about your relationship, a knot of unease tightens in your stomach. It’s not a matter of their words bothering you; rather, it’s a lingering doubt, an unspoken concern that seems to dance at the edges of your consciousness.

Your mind is filled with tension, and you can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right.

It took an unusually long time for the realization to sink in – the absence of your period.

How could you have missed something so significant?

Perhaps it was the whirlwind of fun and excitement, the joyous moments shared with Yoongi and your friends, that allowed this crucial detail to slip through the cracks of your awareness.

As the truth settles over you like a sudden storm, a wave of introspection crashes upon your thoughts. Why had you not noticed sooner?

A sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach as you meticulously do the math, tracing back to that one moment you and Yoongi had sex without protection in the forest.

The pieces fall into place, forming a picture of uncertainty that leaves you standing at the crossroads of emotions.

Regret, fear, and maybe a hint of excitement swirl in a tempest within your mind. The weight of the realization becomes a stormy sea, tossing your emotions like relentless waves. You grapple with conflicting feelings, torn between the potential of new beginnings and the fear of the unknown.

For years, you made a conscious choice to steer clear of hormonal contraception.

The decision wasn’t made lightly; it was a journey of self-discovery and resilience against the societal norms that often dictate women’s reproductive choices. You recall the moments when hormonal contraception wreaked havoc on your body, the side effects casting shadows on your overall well-being.

It was then that you decided it wasn’t the path for you. The journey to this decision was marked by personal reflection, moments of doubt, and a fierce determination to take control of your reproductive health. Condoms became your chosen method of both contraception and protection. The decision was not just a practical one but a statement of agency over your own body.

Sure, you’re a grown woman, and you should have been more cautious.

The irony isn’t lost on you; after all, it only takes a few determined swimmers to set the wheels in motion for a baby.

The realization brings a mix of emotions — surprise, anxiety, and a touch of disbelief. You can’t help but question your own judgment.

As the weight of the situation settles in, you find solace in the fact that it’s with Yoongi, a man you not only adore but love (even though you haven’t spoken those words to him yet).

The history you share, the years of friendship and the open conversation about future possibilities soften the unexpected blow. He’s expressed openness to the idea of children down the line, creating a glimmer of hope in the midst of uncertainty.

As the revelation sinks in, your mind becomes a battlefield of conflicting emotions.

The foremost among them is the relentless uncertainty that echoes through every corner of your thoughts.

Did Yoongi genuinely mean what he said about wanting kids, or were those words spoken in the heat of the moment? The weight of the questions threatens to drown you, leaving you grappling with the unknown.

In the tumultuous sea of your mind, the uncertainty stands out as the dominant wave. You find yourself questioning the timing— is it too early in your relationship to venture into such uncharted territory?

The prospect of an impending headache looms, a physical manifestation of the mental strain that accompanies the myriad thoughts swirling within your head. The room feels suddenly smaller as you navigate through the maze of emotions.

Each question begets another, creating a web of doubts that threaten to entangle your sense of clarity.

Who knew a tiny stick could unleash a whirlwind of chaos in your mind?

You can practically feel your thoughts spiraling faster than a rollercoaster, and you haven’t even taken a goddamn test yet! It’s like your brain decided to host its own circus without your permission.

The prospect of a simple test morphs into a mental acrobatics show, complete with somersaulting doubts and high-wire uncertainties. You catch yourself mid-thought, berating the overthinking brain of yours— Calm down, it might be nothing, right?

As you camp in the serene outskirts of Gunsan, surrounded by the symphony of nature—crickets singing their nightly lullaby and the earthy aroma of the rural landscape—you find yourself at the crossroads of revelation.

The revelation, however, is a delicate secret that you’re hesitant to share, not with your friends and certainly not with Yoongi, at least not until you’re certain.

A few more days, and you’ll leave for another city, and hopefully you can sneak in a pregnancy test at a store without anyone noticing.

Amidst the bustling thoughts of your mind, your boyfriend’s voice cuts through the noise like a familiar melody. His warm, loving smile, revealing those endearing gums you adore, welcomes you back to the present.

“Hey, babe, are you coming?”

His voice, tinged with affection, carries a hint of playfulness. His eyes, like windows to his soul, flicker with concern as he notices a shift in your mood. A subtle furrow in his brow goes unnoticed, replaced by a comforting smile that stretches across his face.

“Yeah,” you nod in response to him. His silhouette is framed in the doorway of Holly, and the tantalizing aroma of barbecue chicken and pork wafts into the air, teasing your senses.

The savory scent wraps around you, awakening your appetite.

A playful breeze carries the distant sounds of laughter and clinking utensils from the gathering outside. The chatter of friends intermingles with the sizzle of the grill, creating a symphony of anticipation.

With a soft smile, he holds the door ajar, casting a warm invitation into the confined space. The golden hues of the setting sun paint the scene, casting long shadows that dance on the interior of the van.

“I’ll be right out,” you assure him.

As you step into the outdoor feast, the savory fragrance intensifies, enveloping you in a culinary embrace.

As the sun begins its descent on your next-to-last day in Gunsan, the air becomes infused with the tantalizing scent of barbecue. Yoongi and Seokjin, the culinary maestros, have orchestrated a feast of flavors, transforming the open fire into a canvas for their culinary artistry.

The crackling flames dance beneath skewers laden with an assortment of barbecue delights – succulent chicken and pork, each morsel dripping with savory juices. The aroma, a symphony of spices and char, teases your senses and ignites a ravenous anticipation within. The sizzle and hiss of meat meeting open flame create a hypnotic melody, luring everyone closer to the culinary spectacle.

As you emerge from the cozy confines of Holly, the brisk evening air kisses your skin, carrying with it the mingling scents of grilled delights and the lively chatter of your friends. The crackling sounds of the open fire draw you closer, promising a reprieve from the whirlwind of thoughts swirling within your mind.

A sense of gratitude swells within you. God, you love their cooking. It’s more than a meal; it’s a celebration, a manifestation of the bonds that tie you all together.

You settle into the chair beside Namjoon, the sturdy wood offering a welcome support beneath you.

A cool beer materializes in your hands, a gesture from Namjoon that elicits a small, appreciative smile. As the effervescent bubbles dance in the amber liquid, you find momentary distraction in the tactile sensation of condensation on the cold bottle.

The ambient hum of conversation surrounds you, friends exchanging anecdotes and laughter. However, their words become distant echoes, mere background noise, as your mind undertakes a journey into the realm of more pressing thoughts. Could you be pregnant?

The crackling of the nearby fire, the occasional gust of wind rustling the leaves, and the laughter of your friends create a symphony of sounds. Yet, within the symphony, your thoughts stand out like a solo, demanding attention.

As you take a sip of the cold beer, you suddenly remember that maybe you shouldn’t and put down the beer as you catch a fleeting glimpse of Yoongi, his eyes meeting yours with an unspoken understanding – does he somehow know?

Namjoon’s voice cuts through the haze of your thoughts, his concern palpable in the furrow of his brow and the gentleness of his inquiry.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his words a lifeboat in the sea of your turbulent thoughts. The concern in his eyes is mirrored by the gaze of your friends, a united front of worry that surrounds you.

“I’m fine,” you offer a weak smile, the words slipping from your lips as easily as a silk thread. The campfire’s glow dances in your eyes, casting flickering shadows that betray the turbulence within.

You catch the subtle exchange of glances among your friends, a silent language they’ve perfected over the years.

Namjoon arches an eyebrow, a silent question lingering in the air.

Hoseok’s voice breaks through the haze in your mind, and you blink, realizing you’ve been somewhere else entirely. He wears a furrowed brow, a genuine concern etched on his face.

“Did you even hear what we were talking about?” Hoseok’s question hangs in the air, a lifeline thrown to a drifting mind. He glances around at the others, a silent plea for confirmation that you’re still tethered to the conversation.

“I’m sorry,” you admit, a genuine apology tinting your words. You glance around at the concerned faces of your friends, a slight frown forming on Namjoon’s forehead.

“No, my mind was elsewhere,” you confess, your eyes momentarily dropping to the beer bottle in your hand. A swirl of conflicting emotions dances in your gaze – the weight of unspoken worries, the fear of the unknown, and the delicate balance of a secret you’re not ready to share.

“Something going on?” Seokjin’s question hangs in the air, his eyes reflecting genuine concern. Normally, their fond and caring hearts would be a source of comfort, but at this moment, you wish for solitude.

The weight of immense turmoil presses against your chest, and you offer a weak smile to mask the turbulence within.

Your heart flutters, caught between the comfort of their understanding and the fortress of secrets you’ve built around yourself. The crackling of the fire seems to intensify, a background chorus to the unspoken truth lingering in the night air.

“No, I’m fine,” you assert, but your attempt at a reassuring smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. The weight of unspoken thoughts sits heavily on your shoulders.

“Just tired,” you add, stretching your arms above your head in an attempt to shake off the invisible burden. The forced yawn escapes, a theatrical touch to your performance.

As you exhale, the weariness is palpable, not just in your body but in the weary creases that temporarily mar your forehead.

You catch Yoongi’s gaze, and for a fleeting moment, his eyes betray a hint of concern. It’s a silent exchange, a language only the two of you understand.

Worried stares linger for a moment, probing, questioning. You deflect them with a half-hearted smile, a feeble attempt to reassure both yourself and your friends. Thankfully, they relent, returning to their earlier discussion with an air of nonchalance. It’s a welcome diversion, giving you a momentary respite from the mounting unease.

But as your friends immerse themselves in chatter, your attention is captivated by Yoongi. His gaze, softer and more perceptive than the others, lingers on you with an understanding that goes beyond words. In the depths of his eyes, you sense an unspoken connection, a recognition that he, too, perceives the silent storm brewing within you.

As the aroma of grilled meats fills the air, your thoughts drift away, carried on the scent of uncertainty. The upcoming days loom ahead, casting a shadow on your once carefree demeanor.

Each passing moment feels like a countdown, the ticking clock resonating with the pounding of your anxious heart. The idea of taking a pregnancy test, a seemingly simple act, now carries the weight of your fate.

A symphony of laughter erupts, a harmonious cacophony that almost mimics a melody. Your gaze sweeps across the group, catching each friend lost in the infectious mirth. Their joy is palpable, manifested in hearty belly laughs and eyes crinkled with delight.

However, as your eyes dart over to Yoongi, you notice a stark contrast.

His demeanor doesn’t mirror the jovial atmosphere; instead, his expression remains stoic, a subtle tension etched on his features.

Your gaze flits from one friend to another, their laughter echoing in the warm air. They share an inside joke, a moment of camaraderie that has eluded you. A subtle unease settles in your chest, the feeling of being adrift in a sea of amusement, disconnected.

Caught in the undertow of your own thoughts, you find yourself lost in the laughter, unable to decipher the humor that dances between them. It’s not just a missed punchline; it’s a fleeting moment of connection slipping through your fingers.

Hoseok’s eyes light up like twin stars as he bursts out, “Now, that’s a brilliant idea!”

His voice, brimming with infectious enthusiasm, resonates through the campsite, attempting to suppress the laughter bubbling just beneath the surface. His shoulders shake slightly with restrained mirth, and a mischievous gleam dances in his eyes, hinting at the amusement he’s struggling to contain.

The air crackles with the energy of the moment, as if Hoseok’s excitement has sparked a lively current that electrifies the entire campfire. The others catch on, their own laughter simmering beneath the surface.

You turn your gaze to Hoseok, brows furrowed in both wonder and confusion. “What’s the brilliant idea?” you ask, your voice tinged with curiosity, as if you’re about to embark on an unexpected adventure.

Hoseok grins mischievously, his laughter evolving into soft chuckles. “We were thinking of giving you and Yoongi some alone time tomorrow,” he suggests, the glint in his eyes hinting at a secret plan.

Seokjin smirks, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“So you can,” he begins, drawing out the words with a pause for dramatic effect. You roll your eyes at his theatrics, but then he raises his eyebrows suggestively.

Suddenly, your ears and cheeks flash red as you realize the implication of his words, and the campfire bursts into laughter, leaving you caught in a delightful mix of embarrassment and amusement.

They all burst into laughter, and you catch Yoongi rolling his eyes with a mock sigh.

You wish the ground would just swallow you up, but you manage a playful glare in his direction. “Thanks for the moral support,” you mutter under your breath, earning a teasing grin from Yoongi, who clearly enjoys the banter as much as the others enjoy the spectacle.

Yoongi nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders, his ‘I-don’t-give-a-fuck’ attitude on full display. You’re well aware he truly doesn’t care about the teasing, but no matter how many times your friends crack jokes about your intimate life, it never gets less awkward.

You shoot Yoongi a sideways glance, raising an eyebrow.

“Really? This again?” you quip, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. It’s a game you all play, and deep down, you know it’s all in good fun. Yet, you can’t help but wonder if they’ll ever tire of it.

“You seem like you could use it,” Namjoon adds, his voice laced with concern as he gently nudges your shoulder.

You’ve buried your face in your hands, hoping the shield of your palms could protect you from the lingering embarrassment. The laughter of your friends echoes around you, but you can’t bring yourself to look up just yet.

The warmth of Namjoon’s touch seeps through your hands, a comforting gesture amidst the teasing storm. As you finally gather the courage to peek through your fingers, you catch a glimpse of his reassuring smile, a silent understanding passing between friends. It’s moments like these that make you appreciate the bonds you’ve built, even if they come with their fair share of playful ribbing.

“Please don’t say stuff like that.”

You plead, the cringe evident in your voice as you instinctively recoil. A shiver of discomfort crawls down your spine, and you find yourself desperately wishing for an escape from the awkwardness that lingers in the air.

The weight of their words presses on you, and you subtly shift, trying to distance yourself from the subject at hand. The vulnerability of the moment tugs at your conscience, leaving you exposed in the face of their laughter.

“With that stunt you pulled at the restaurant, I think you have a lot of pent up sexual frustration.”

Hoseok chuckles, and the teasing tone in his voice causes your cheeks to flush with embarrassment. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, memories of that daring encounter at the restaurant flooding your mind.

The heat rises in your face as you recall the unexpected aftermath, as you had walked out to the table with Yoongi’s cum on your face, and a wave of self-consciousness washes over you.

The campfire suddenly feels too warm, and you find yourself desperately wishing to change the subject. Hoseok’s laughter lingers in the air, a constant reminder of that daring escapade, and you try to suppress the vivid images that threaten to resurface.

“And we would rather not be here when you let off some steam,” Seokjin adds, his laughter echoing through the air. You roll your eyes playfully, a mix of amusement and embarrassment coloring your expression.

The teasing banter continues, and you sense the warmth of embarrassment creeping up your neck.

A fleeting glance at Yoongi reveals his nonchalant demeanor, his composure unbroken. Inspired by his cool attitude, you decide to take a page from his book. With a smirk and a playful glint in your eyes, you raise an eyebrow at your friends, challenging them to bring it on.

“Thanks,” you say with a mischievous glint in your eyes, looking around your friends.

“I could definitely use a good fuck and Yoongi’s thick cock just hits all the right spots,” you chuckle, adding a playful wink to your statement. The campfire falls silent and it’s almost deafening.

“So thank you so much for thinking about my vagina and Yoongi’s dick. It’s really appreciated and we’ll look forward to tomorrow.” You say with a mischievous twinkle in your eye.

As your friends sit in stunned silence, you bask in the unexpected power of your words.

With a confident grin, you raise your beer and offer a casual shrug.

“What can I say? You asked for it!”

Your tone exudes a mix of playful confidence and nonchalance. Meanwhile, Yoongi’s proud gaze intensifies, and you can almost hear him whispering, ‘Well done’ without uttering a word.

As the weight of your words settles in the air, Namjoon breaks the silence with a low whistle. “Well, I guess that’s one way to shut us up,” he chuckles, shaking his head in both disbelief and amusement.

The group erupts into a mixture of nervous laughter and awkward glances, uncertain of how to respond to your unexpected boldness. You’ve found a bottle of ice cold water and take a sip of it, maintaining your confident demeanor, and exchange a knowing glance with Yoongi, who seems thoroughly entertained by the unfolding scene.

The remainder of the meal unfolds in a symphony of laughter, shared stories, and the clinking of utensils against plates. Conversations shift seamlessly between topics, from future plans to nostalgic memories. The camaraderie of your group takes center stage, overshadowing the earlier teasing.

Each moment is filled with genuine connection, reminding you of the unique bond you share.

The midday sun casts a warm glow over your lunch with friends, the flickering flames of the campfire dancing in the background. Laughter intertwines with the aroma of yesterday’s leftovers, creating an atmosphere that is both familiar and tinged with anticipation.

As you savor each bite, you can’t help but feel a subtle tension in the air, a delicate undercurrent that stems from the impending alone time with Yoongi.

Your friends, oblivious to the internal struggle you’re facing, continue to share stories and jokes, but your mind keeps drifting back to the unspoken dilemma that lingers like a shadow.

The prospect of finally being alone with Yoongi excites you, yet the fear of him unraveling your internal turmoil weighs on you.

The crackling fire mirrors the conflicting emotions within you, casting shadows on the faces of your friends. You steal glances at Yoongi, wondering if he senses your unease.

The sun hangs high in the sky, casting a golden hue over the campsite as your friends bid you farewell after a satisfying lunch.

There’s a subtle understanding among them, a shared unspoken decision to give you and Yoongi the precious gift of time alone. As they discuss their plans to explore the nearby town, you can’t help but appreciate the warmth of their friendship and the unspoken support they provide.

With cheerful goodbyes, your friends set off, leaving behind a trail of laughter that gradually fades into the distance.

Now, as the tranquility of the campsite settles around you, there’s a palpable shift in the atmosphere. The rustling leaves and distant chirping of birds create a serene backdrop, underscoring the anticipation of the solitude that awaits you and Yoongi.

Turning towards each other, you and Yoongi share a knowing glance, a silent acknowledgment of the precious moments ahead.

The air is charged with a mix of excitement and intimacy as you prepare for this secluded interlude, grateful for the thoughtfulness of your friends who understood the significance of this time for you and your boyfriend.

As you and Yoongi cocoon yourselves in the comforting confines of Holly, the air becomes infused with a sense of tranquility.

The soft glow of his laptop casts a gentle illumination, creating an intimate bubble within the vehicle. The flickering light from the laptop dances across your faces, casting shadows that playfully intertwine with the laughter and stolen glances.

As Yoongi’s lips graze the delicate expanse of your shoulders, a shiver dances down your spine, eliciting a delicate sigh of contentment.

His nuzzles become a tender exploration, mapping the contours of familiarity that make your body a cherished landscape for him. The warmth of his touch creates a cocoon, enveloping you in a sanctuary where time seems to linger.

You revel in the softness of the moment, the gentle pressure of Yoongi’s affectionate gestures making you feel cherished and understood. The rhythmic pattern of his nuzzles mirrors the quiet cadence of your breaths, creating a silent language that speaks volumes in the tranquil cocoon you’ve woven together.

Yoongi’s fingers, like skilled maestros, trail a symphony of comfort across your shoulder, their tender dance ascending to the curve of your neck.

As his touch transforms into a soothing massage, you feel the knots of tension unravel beneath his fingertips. The rhythmic kneading becomes a balm, dissolving the worries that had taken residence in the recesses of your mind.

In the gentle cadence of his strokes, you find a haven where each movement is a whispered assurance, a silent promise that you’re not alone in whatever may be troubling you.

The warmth of his hands carries an unspoken invitation to share the burdens of your heart, creating a space where vulnerability is embraced. As his fingers work their magic, the stresses of the day seem to dissipate, carried away on the currents of his affectionate touch.

The sensation is both physical and emotional, a tangible reminder that you have someone by your side who cares deeply for you.

Yoongi’s voice, soft and laced with concern, further reinforces the sanctuary of this moment.

“What’s wrong, babe?”

He inquires, his words a lifeline thrown into the sea of your thoughts. The genuine curiosity in his eyes invites you to open up, to let the weight of your troubles be shared and lightened by the strength of your bond.

In the cocoon of Yoongi’s touch, you find solace and a momentary escape from the complexities swirling within. His fingers, tracing soothing patterns on your shoulder, evoke sensations that transcend the physical.

As you sink deeper into the bliss of his massage, the barriers around your heart momentarily soften, allowing vulnerability to seep through.

“I don’t want to talk about it yet.” You confess, the words slipping from your lips like a whispered secret. The timbre of your voice, tinted with a mixture of fragility and desire, hangs in the air. In this moment, you feel pliable, molded by his care and affection.

With a tenderness that mirrors the flickering warmth of a candle, Yoongi turns your gaze toward his, locking eyes with a sincerity that speaks volumes. His touch is both a reassurance and an unspoken promise, a reminder that within this cocoon of shared vulnerability, there exists a haven for your thoughts and emotions.

“Okay.” He utters, the word carrying the weight of understanding and patience. In the silent exchange of glances, there’s a recognition that time unfolds at its own pace, and the space he provides is a canvas for your unspoken words to manifest.

As he cradles your face in his hands, his touch becomes a conduit for reassurance, a silent pledge that he’ll be there when you decide to unravel the intricacies of your thoughts.

“I’m here when you’re ready to talk.”

The depth of his gaze invites trust, assuring you that this haven isn’t bound by a ticking clock or the urgency of spoken words.

In the quiet cocoon of Holly, gratitude for Yoongi blooms within you like a delicate flower. His intuitive understanding, the way he navigates the uncharted waters of your emotions, is a testament to the depth of his love. It’s more than just appreciation; it’s a profound acknowledgment of the bond you share.

As you rest against him, the subtle rise and fall of his chest a comforting rhythm, the weight of your feelings finds solace. His ability to read the unspoken nuances, to dance with the ebb and flow of your emotions, is a symphony of understanding.

It’s not just about giving you space; it’s about crafting a sanctuary where vulnerability is met with patience, and time is a gentle companion.

In these moments, the love you harbor for him swells, an ocean of emotions that transcends the need for words. His presence becomes a balm, soothing the edges of uncertainty, and you find yourself enveloped in a warmth that extends beyond the physical.

You revel in the simplicity of his knowing glances and the way he respects the sacredness of your thoughts. It’s the silent assurance that he’ll stand by you, unmoved by the passing seconds, until you’re ready to unfurl the chapters of your heart.

“I can help you take your mind off whatever’s troubling you?”

His lips linger on yours, leaving the taste of warmth and affection as a gentle reminder that in his embrace, solace awaits. The simplicity of his offer carries a wealth of unspoken understanding, a silent promise to be your anchor in the sea of uncertainties.

As he speaks those words, his eyes, windows to a soul that intimately knows yours, search for a sign in the language only you two share.

There’s an invitation in the way he holds you, an unspoken pledge to share the weight of your troubles.

Perhaps, in the sanctuary of each other’s presence, you can find respite from the storm brewing within. His touch, a soothing melody, offers an escape into a realm where words are unnecessary, where the language of love becomes a salve for the wounds of the heart.

You consider his offer, the genuine concern etched on his face, and for a moment, you allow yourself to be carried away by the prospect of a temporary reprieve.

The weight of his desire reflects in the shadowed depth of his gaze, a silent confession that transcends words. His eyes, normally a window to his soul, now betray the subtle dance of passion and want. As you lock eyes with him, you find yourself ensnared in the magnetic pull of his longing, a current that sparks anticipation.

The soft droop of his eyelids harbors a secret world, one where desire takes the lead and whispers promises only lovers understand. There’s a languid rhythm to the way his gaze caresses, each blink a heartbeat echoing the pulse of the moment.

In the subdued light, the flames of passion flicker within those dark orbs, leaving an indelible impression of the fire that smolders beneath the surface. You feel the intensity of his silent plea, a plea that beckons you to acknowledge the uncharted territory where your desires intertwine.

“I wouldn’t say no to that.”

A playful chuckle escapes your lips, a mischievous melody that dances in the air, echoing the lighthearted rhythm of your connection.

As you lean in, your teeth graze the edge of his bottom lip, not just in a tease, but in a silent declaration of your shared desire. The playful nip is a prelude to the symphony of sensations waiting to unfold.

His responding grunt is a low, primal note, a testament to the delicious tension building between you.

As you pull away, a knowing glint in your eyes, you leave behind a promise lingering in the air—a promise of the unrestrained passion that simmers just beneath the surface, waiting to be set free.

“Then lay down and let me make you forget your own name.”

A surge of anticipation electrifies the air as his words wrap around you, a sultry promise that sends shivers down your spine. The confidence in his voice resonates, a magnetic force pulling you deeper into the allure of the moment. You surrender to the rhythm of his suggestion, feeling the weight of the world lifting as he guides you gently to recline.

His eyes, dark pools of anticipation, reflect a hunger that transcends the constraints of time. There’s a deliberate slowness to his movements, a silent vow to savor every nuance of pleasure that unfolds between you.

As he expertly slides down your sweatpants (you did not steal those from Yoongi, you swear!) he unveils your desire-laden form, leaving you in nothing but your panties. The room seems to hum with a charged energy as his eyes meet yours, the spark of lust reflected in that magnetic gaze.

Your longing gaze locks onto him, capturing the fiery essence of your arousal. His long, ebony locks frame his handsome face.

“You know you’re so damn beautiful, right?”

He murmurs, his fingers orchestrating a slow, tantalizing symphony as they traverse the path from your toes, ascending with deliberate grace up the landscape of your legs. Each stroke is a promise, a prelude that sends a shiver of anticipation racing through your veins, your skin awakening with goosebumps.

The sensation is electric, every inch of your skin tingling with anticipation. The journey of his touch creates a symphony of shivers that dance in harmonious tandem with your rising desire.

Your cheeks flush with a rosy hue as his gaze lingers on your legs. Feeling a twinge of self-consciousness, you stammer, “Um, don’t pay too much attention to my legs. I haven’t shaved recently,” your words escape in a hushed admission, and you instinctively attempt to shield your face from his gaze.

His fingers delicately peel away the protective shield you’ve built with your hands, revealing your blushing cheeks and the vulnerability that lingers in your eyes.

A soft hiss escapes his lips, and his gaze intensifies with a fiery determination. “I don’t care,” he declares, his voice a low, husky murmur that hangs in the air, “every inch of you is beautiful.”

He gently tilts your chin up, meeting your eyes with an affectionate gaze. He reassures you, his fingers tracing a delicate path along your jawline, his touch a comforting affirmation that transcends the superficial.

There’s an intensity in his words, a raw honesty that sends shivers down your spine.

A soft moan escapes your lips in response to his words, the praise sinking into the depths of your being. Your breath quickens, and a tingling warmth begins to pool between your thighs, a visceral reaction to the arousal ignited by his intimate acknowledgment.

The air around you thickens with anticipation, and you can feel the subtle friction as your panties cling to your skin, a tactile reminder of the desire that courses through your veins.

His hands, like gentle phantoms, trace tantalizing patterns over the fabric covering your core. The teasing caresses send shivers down your spine, creating an electric dance of anticipation on your skin.

As his fingers weave through the unseen pathways, you find yourself instinctively arching your back, a silent plea for more, a desire that threads through the very fibers of your being.

Each feather-light stroke becomes a whisper of promises, a seductive invitation that beckons you to surrender to the impending ecstasy. The subtle friction against your clothed core intensifies the yearning, creating a magnetic pull that draws you closer to the edge of desire.

The anticipation in the room crescendos as Yoongi, his eyes heavy with desire, firmly grips the edge of your panties.

A subtle yet deliberate tug sends a thrill through your body, and you instinctively arch your back, offering yourself to him in a silent dance of longing. Your ass lifts in a graceful surrender, a gesture that speaks volumes without the need for words, inviting him to unveil the secrets hidden beneath the fabric.

He slowly peels your panties down your legs, each inch of exposed skin kindling the flames of desire. His unhurried touch is both a torment and a pleasure, awakening a craving within you that only he can satisfy.

The fabric trails over your thighs, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. As your panties reach your ankles, you find yourself teetering on the edge of vulnerability and excitement, the cool air of the room caressing the newly exposed skin.

The pace is torturous, yet the sweet torment only adds to the fervor of your need for him. Your breath catches, and your heart pounds in rhythm with the silent crescendo of desire, as he takes his time, savoring every moment of the seduction.

Yoongi’s lips descend with a feather-light touch, igniting a cascade of sensations that ripple through your core. The warmth of his breath, coupled with the gentle press of his lips against your clit, creates an electrifying dance between pleasure and anticipation.

“Already so damn wet for me.”

His words, a whispered declaration against your skin, send a jolt of desire straight through you. The tenderness in his kiss contrasts with the building heat, a delicious paradox that has your body responding eagerly to his every move. Your body aches for the touch of his hands, for the intimacy that promises to follow his seductive declaration.

As he explores the delicate contours of your pussy, his hands expertly coax your legs apart, allowing for an unhindered journey into the realms of ecstasy.

The velvety caress of his tongue on your most sensitive spot sends shockwaves of pleasure cascading through you. Your body, a canvas for his artistry, responds with an involuntary moan, a testament to the electric connection forged between you.

Each languid stroke, each artful flick, becomes a brushstroke painting a masterpiece of desire.

With an artful blend of tenderness and hunger, he delves into the intimate landscape, leaving no territory uncharted. The sight of him, a devoted architect of pleasure, navigating the peaks and valleys of your pussy, etches a sinful image in your memory, a visual symphony that resonates with the raw, primal energy between you.

His exploration is thorough, a sacred pilgrimage that transforms your most intimate sanctuaries into altars of pleasure.

As his tongue dances with purpose, each exquisite movement sends ripples of pleasure through your body, eliciting gasps and moans that punctuate the charged air.

Your fingers entwine in the velvety strands of his midnight-black hair, a tactile dance that blurs the lines between pain and pleasure. The sensation of your grip sends a seismic shiver through him, a tangible expression of the fusion between your desire and his arousal.

His groan, a harmonious blend of both agony and ecstasy, resonates in the intimate space between you.

His adept tongue orchestrates a tantalizing symphony, each rhythmic stroke sending waves of pleasure through your core. The artful dance of his lips and tongue creates a crescendo of desire, a masterful performance that leaves you gasping for breath.

As he delves deeper into the artistry of your desire, his movements evoke the most primal and exquisite sounds — a melodic fusion of slurping and sighs that harmonize with the symphony of your escalating pleasure.

In the languid exploration of your body, his tender touch becomes a testament to the depth of his affection. Each deliberate caress is a celebration of intimacy, as if he’s unraveling the layers of your being to expose the essence of your bond.

The unhurried pace of his movements whispers of a profound appreciation for the canvas of your skin, savoring every nuance as if committing the map of your body to memory.

The love you feel for him, and the love he showers upon you, intertwine like vines, creating a tapestry of shared passion that envelops both of you in its rich, intricate patterns.

As you lie there, engulfed in the warmth of his adoration, an unexpected realization strikes you — he possesses the qualities of an extraordinary lover and, perhaps, an incredible father.

Your mind, caught in the whirlwind of emotions, begins to spiral. It’s not a descent into chaos; rather, it’s an ascent into your possible future. The thought flickers through your mind like a gentle flame, casting a soft glow on the image of your shared moments. How loving he would be towards a child, how amazing he would be. You can feel the telltale signs of anxiousness slowly seeping into your body.

In this moment, you can’t help but acknowledge the depth of your feelings for him. Damn, you love him so much.

As Yoongi tenderly explores the landscape of your pussy, your mind, like an unwelcome guest, insists on revisiting the uncertainties that have been haunting you. The touch that should be a remedy becomes a battleground between the present moment and the lingering worries that threaten to steal your focus.

In this emotional tug-of-war, you find yourself caught between the desire to surrender to the sensations and the compulsion to confront the uncertainties head-on.

As Yoongi’s skilled touch ventures into your warm walls, your senses respond with an electrifying awareness. The moment he slips a finger inside, a surge of pleasure cascades through you, momentarily eclipsing the persistent thoughts that have plagued your mind.

The explicit bond between you and Yoongi becomes a lifeline, grounding you in the immediate sensations that demand your attention.

“Ah, fuck,” you moan, wanting more of his electrifying touch.

In a slow and deliberate rhythm, Yoongi withdraws his finger, creating an exquisite tension that leaves you yearning for more. The anticipation builds as he re-enters, his finger becoming a conduit for both pleasure and promise.

With every measured thrust, the world around you blurs, and the only reality is the electrifying connection between you and him.

As his finger dances within you, the dual sensation of his intimate exploration and the tantalizing strokes on your clit forms a harmonious symphony of ecstasy. It’s a delicate balance between sweet torture and the promise of release, a dance that makes you teeter on the edge of losing yourself entirely.

Your mind, once clouded with uncertainty, now revels in the intoxicating sensations he elicits.

Each stroke of his finger becomes a stroke of liberation, freeing you from the shackles of doubt and leading you into a realm where pleasure reigns supreme.

As he introduces a second finger into the dance of pleasure, a new dimension of sensation unfolds. The subtle stretch sends tendrils of pleasure through you, and you find yourself instinctively meeting his every thrust.

His fingers, now working in tandem, navigate the depths of your pussy with an intimate familiarity. Each calculated movement is a testament to his skill, an artful exploration of your most sensitive realms.

As he delves deeper, you can’t help but surrender to the crescendo of pleasure building within you. The hunger for more intensifies, an insatiable craving that propels you both into uncharted territory.

The precipice of pleasure looms ever nearer, a tantalizing edge that threatens to consume you entirely. Every caress, every thrust brings you to the brink, and the intensity becomes almost overwhelming. The electric current of desire courses through your veins, a pulsating reminder of the ecstasy that hangs in the air.

Your breaths come in shallow gasps, mirroring the urgency of your body’s response to the impending release.

“Yoon, I’m so close!”

The words escape your lips in breathless pants, carried on the wings of passion that envelop both of you in a cocoon of desire.

The room is filled with the husky hum of satisfaction as he skillfully introduces a third finger into the delicate equation, causing your breath to hitch in a symphony of pleasure.

The subtle, rhythmic sound of your mewls, like a sweet melody, harmonizes with the intoxicating atmosphere of shared desire.

A whirlwind of thoughts engulfs your mind, a tempest of emotions and musings that dance in a chaotic waltz. It’s as if a storm of contemplation has descended upon the landscape of your consciousness, leaving you breathless and slightly disoriented.

His teasing suction on your clit becomes a rhythmic pulse, each pull and release sending ripples of sensation through your body. Your spine arches involuntarily, a physical manifestation of the pleasure that courses through you like a current.

Your breath catches in your throat, a melody of moans and gasps escaping in harmony with the rising pleasure.

You’re losing yourself in the cadence of pleasure, surrendering to the rising tide that threatens to pull you under.

As his fingers expertly navigate the landscape of your pussy, seeking out the elusive treasure of your G-spot, the anticipation within you becomes a taut string, ready to unravel in the most euphoric crescendo.

Each deliberate stroke against your G-spot is a seismic pulse, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core.

The knot in your stomach tightens with every rhythmic press of his fingers, the tension reaching a point where it can no longer withstand the impending release.

As the wave of climax crashes over you, every muscle in your body tightens, a testament to the intensity of the pleasure coursing through your veins.

The sheer power of the moment finds its voice in a raw, unrestrained scream of his name, a primal melody that reverberates through the van. The sound is a visceral release, an unbridled declaration of pleasure that echoes in the air.

Simultaneously, your vision blurs, the world reduced to a kaleidoscope of colors as tears stream down your cheeks.

In the aftermath of your climax, Yoongi moves with a swiftness that speaks volumes about his care and concern.

He withdraws from your core, his face adorned with the glistening remnants of your orgasm. The concern etched across his features mirrors the tenderness in his touch as he strokes your cheeks, his fingertips collecting the tear-streaked evidence of your emotional release.

“What’s wrong, babe?” he inquires, his voice a gentle melody that resonates with genuine care.

As the haze of passion begins to dissipate, you become acutely aware of the tears streaming down your face, each droplet a silent witness to the complex interplay of pleasure and emotion.

It’s a realization that unfolds gradually, like the petals of a delicate flower unfurling under the touch of the morning sun.

Your eyes flutter open, meeting Yoongi’s concerned gaze, the soft orbs reflecting a myriad of emotions—care, tenderness, and a silent inquiry. The unspoken question hangs in the air, inviting you to share the intricate tapestry of feelings that now envelop you.

As you tenderly cup his face, the warmth of your touch conveying a myriad of unspoken emotions, you draw him into a soft, lingering kiss. The sensation is a delicate dance, a symphony of lips meeting in a silent exchange that transcends the need for words. In that fleeting moment, the world outside ceases to exist, and all that remains is the intimate connection between your souls.

As your lips meet, there’s a subtle play of emotions on his face—confusion mingled with a growing awareness. It’s as if your kiss serves as a revelation, unraveling layers of uncertainty and paving the way for a deeper understanding.

“I’m…” you choke on the words, the weight of them hanging heavy in the air. Your voice trembles, a symphony of vulnerability as you muster the courage to confess, “I’m late.”

He sits up on his knees, the subtle play of emotions flickering across his face—confusion, concern, and a tinge of fear that he’s trying to mask.

The world around you seems to pause, caught in the gravity of the revelation. The soft glow of the room casts shadows on his features, emphasizing the lines of his furrowed brow and the intensity of his gaze.

“My period.” You exhale the words, each syllable a confession carrying the weight of uncertainty. The air in the van seems to crystallize as the truth hangs in the space between you two, a revelation that both defines and challenges the contours of your shared reality.

There’s a palpable shift, a seismic ripple that traverses the emotional landscape.

As you release those two words into the room, you can almost sense the burden lifting from your shoulders, the unspoken fears and the silent cacophony of questions dissipating.

Yoongi’s ‘oh’ escapes his lips like a subtle revelation, a key turning in the lock of understanding. His laughter, a melodic cascade of mirth, breaks the tension that hangs in the air, diffusing it like a gust of wind through a dense forest. As he laughs, his eyes crinkle at the corners, and you can’t help but be captivated by the sheer joy that emanates from him.

You turn to him, an arched brow, an unspoken inquiry, a silent prompt for an explanation to unravel the mystery of his amusement.

“Is this what has been on your mind lately?”

Yoongi’s chuckle resonates in the air, wrapping the room in a light, casual ambiance. As the sound tickles your ears, you find yourself frowning, an unexpected twist in his reaction catching you off guard. This wasn’t the response you anticipated, and it leaves a flicker of confusion in your eyes.

His chuckle, like a riddle yet to be unraveled, compels you to seek clarity. The lines on his face soften into a playful smile, but you sense there’s more beneath the surface—layers of emotion waiting to be uncovered.

You gracefully sit up, your hands instinctively finding support behind you. As you rise, there’s a subtle grace in your movements, a dance of poise and strength.

His voice, a soothing melody, envelops you in a comforting embrace as he reassures, “It’s okay, babe.” There’s an innate understanding in his tone, a blend of empathy and strength that makes you feel seen and supported.

As he utters those words, his eyes become a safe haven, inviting you to share the weight of your concerns. You notice a subtle glint of concern, a reflection of his genuine care for your well-being. It’s not just a question; it’s an invitation to share the burden, a bridge to traverse the uncertain terrain together.

“Have you taken a test yet?”

Your head shakes with a slow, deliberate motion, a silent admission that echoes in the stillness between you two. “We haven’t really been close to a store these couple of days,” you mumble, your words carrying the weight of circumstance and a touch of vulnerability.

Yoongi’s voice carries a soothing cadence, a melody of reassurance that wraps around you like a comforting embrace.

“Then you can take one when we get to Ansan, and then we’ll know, okay?” His words resonate with a mix of tenderness and practicality, casting a lifeline of certainty in the sea of uncertainties.

Your voice trembles with genuine curiosity as you turn to Yoongi, searching for the calm center in the storm of your emotions.

“How are you so okay with this?” The question lingers in the air, heavy with the weight of your uncertainty.

“I told you before. I want kids, so I don’t mind. And I love you,” his voice, filled with a sincere tenderness, caresses your ears like a cherished melody, a symphony of reassurance. As Yoongi’s words wash over you, carrying the warmth of his love, you find yourself enchanted by the sincerity in his voice.

“I love you too!”

Your words spill forth like a cascade, infused with a passion that dances in the air. The sincerity in your voice creates a melody that resonates in the space between you and Yoongi, a sweet harmony of shared emotions. He can’t help but chuckle, a tender sound that mingles with the affectionate atmosphere, like a secret language only the two of you understand.

“Whatever happens, we’ll face it together. Pregnancy or not, I want to be with you,” he declares, sealing his words with a kiss that carries the weight of unwavering commitment.

“Now lay back down so I can make sweet love to you,” he murmurs with a playful slap on your ass, drawing a light chuckle from you. As you comply with his request, the air crackles with anticipation, and the van seems to buzz with the shared energy of desire.

With your tears now dried, a renewed sense of elation washes over you, lifting you into a state of weightlessness. The earlier worries and anxieties have dissipated, leaving behind a serene anticipation for his tender touch.

With a subtle yet confident movement, he draws you back up, skillfully assisting you in shedding your shirt. The air crackles with a charged energy as he guides you back down, each motion deliberate and unhurried.

As he hovers above, fully clothed, a sudden intensity sweeps over the room.

He descends urgently, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss that eclipses time. The embrace is fervent, a fusion of desire and hunger. He bites your bottom lip, a delicious intrusion that elicits a gasp, and as your mouths meld, tongues entwining in an intricate dance, the van seems to vibrate with the electric charge of longing.

His moan reverberates within you, sending delightful shivers down your spine.

His hands travel down your body, his destination becomes clear as his lips find your breasts. A wave of pleasure courses through you as he takes one of them into his mouth, his tongue dancing with a rhythmic intensity. Simultaneously, his hand expertly caresses and squeezes the other, creating a symphony of sensations that leaves you breathless, lost in the exquisite rhythm of his touch.

His mouth envelops your nipple, coaxing it into a hard bud as he skillfully circles his tongue around it. The teasing bites send electric pulses of pleasure through your body, and you can’t help but moan in ecstasy.

A surge of arousal courses through your body, igniting every nerve and leaving you acutely aware of the growing intensity between you and Yoongi.

It’s as if a tidal wave of desire has been unleashed, sweeping away any lingering tension and leaving only the magnetic pull drawing you both closer.

Yoongi shifts his attention to your other breast, and a shiver runs down your spine as his skillful tongue creates a tingling sensation that sends waves of pleasure through your body. Each gentle bite and swirl of his tongue feels like a carefully orchestrated symphony, and you can’t help but arch your back in response to the electrifying pleasure he’s unleashing.

Your breath quickens, and the anticipation of another orgasm builds within you.

Yoongi, attuned to your heightened arousal, allows his free hand to navigate the landscape of your pussy. With deliberate intent, his fingers find your throbbing clit, and a jolt of pleasure courses through you as he gives it a teasing pinch.

The dual sensations from both his mouth on your breast and his skilled fingers dancing on your most sensitive spot send shivers down your spine, amplifying the intensity of the moment.

“Ah!” an involuntary cry of pleasure escapes your lips, a raw and unfiltered expression of the ecstasy coursing through your body. Your breaths come in ragged pants, each exhale a testament to the overwhelming sensations Yoongi is coaxing from you.

His fingers dance skillfully over your clit, expertly pushing you closer to the edge. Simultaneously, his warm tongue flicks sensuously across your nipple, intensifying the pleasure coursing through your veins.

In a crescendo of sensation, the knot in your stomach unravels, and you succumb to the powerful waves of ecstasy crashing over you.

Ecstasy courses through every fiber of your being, causing your toes to curl involuntarily. Your breath comes in hurried pants, and the world around you blurs into a hazy abstraction.

As you slowly open your eyes, you find yourself ensnared in the gaze of Yoongi, his eyes reflecting an ocean of love that threatens to engulf your very soul. In those deep pools of affection, you sense an unwavering connection, a silent promise that transcends words.

“I don’t think it’s fair that I’m the only one completely naked,” chuckling, you playfully swat at Yoongi’s sculpted chest.

With a surge of desire, you sit up, pushing him backward. The room crackles with anticipation as you grab his shirt, flinging it haphazardly onto the bed. Your lips crash against his in a hungry kiss, an unspoken urgency that reveals the depths of your longing for his touch.

Your fingers trail a fiery path down his chest. The heat between you intensifies as your hands venture lower, reaching the confines of his pants where a pronounced bulge yearns to be released—a silent plea echoing the passion that simmers beneath the surface.

In a fleeting moment of daring desire, you tease him with the tantalizing touch of your hand through the fabric, evoking a frustrated moan that hangs in the air. With an intoxicating mix of boldness and anticipation, you deftly pull down his pants and boxers, unveiling his throbbing dick.

As the last barrier of clothing drops away, leaving him gloriously exposed before you, he joins in the mirth, a playful chuckle escaping his lips. With an affectionate gleam in his eyes, he guides you back down, eager to continue the symphony of passion that has only just begun.

As his lips meet yours in a tender dance, his eyes lock onto yours, a silent exchange of emotions passing between those beautiful orbs. In that moment, it’s as if the entire cosmos is reflected in the depths of your gaze, and the world outside fades into insignificance.

As he reaches for a condom, you raise a questioning eyebrow at him.

“One last time before we find out if you’re pregnant or not?”

With a playful smirk, Yoongi holds the foil in front of you, his question hanging in the air like a sweet promise.

As the anticipation lingers in the air, you find yourself questioning the necessity of the condom. The unspoken desire for a deeper connection, to feel him without barriers, tugs at your thoughts. Yet, you understand the significance of this moment, a delicate balance between shared passion and the impending revelation.

It’s a bittersweet dance, the choice wrapped in a poignant acknowledgment of the unknown future, making this last embrace all the more meaningful.

“Fine, one last time then.”

A playful chuckle escapes your lips as you surrender to the shared decision.

With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you wrap your fingers around his impressive hardness. A playful stroke elicits a deep, appreciative moan from him, resonating in the air like a sweet melody of desire.

His breath hitches, and he whispers, “You don’t have to, babe,” the words laced with desire.

“I still want you to forget your name,” he whispers against your ear, his breath creating a delicate dance of sensations that sends shivers down your spine.

You hum, a pleased and sultry melody resonating through your words. “But I want to. Please let me suck you; you taste so good.”

He pants, his breath hitched with a blend of desire and amusement.

“Fuck,” he mutters, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “How can I say no to those sweet eyes and that dirty mouth of yours?”

With a languid motion, he settles back on the bed, creating an inviting space for you between his well-defined legs.

You crawl between his legs, a mischievous smirk playing on your lips. Slowly, sensually, you run your tongue along the length of his throbbing dick, savoring the moment before releasing a teasing droplet of saliva that glistens in the soft light.

You take him into your mouth in one smooth, deliberate motion, the warmth and wetness engulfing his cock entirely. A primal hiss escapes his lips, a symphony of pleasure echoing in the van as you work your magic.

With determination, you savor the taste of his precum, deciding to be bolder. You inch your way down, taking him deeper until your nose brushes against his coarse pubic hair.

As you breathe through your nose, hollowing your cheeks, the obscene sounds escaping him become a symphony that resonates through your core.

His fingers entwine in your hair, tugging gently, a visceral reminder of the intimate connection between you.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, the praise dripping with desire and approval. The sensation of his touch, both tender and possessive, sends shivers down your spine, creating a delicious tension in the air.

As you pull away, a satisfying pop resonates in the room, accompanied by the symphony of your shared breaths. Gasping for air, you meet his gaze, and a playful chuckle escapes his lips, filling the space like a melody that only the two of you understand.

You plunge eagerly, your tongue tracing a sinuous dance around his length, creating a tantalizing symphony of pleasure. As you hum with a subtle vibration, the sensations reverberate, amplifying the intensity of the moment.

“Shit,” he breathes, his voice a low rasp as you feel his dick twitching in your mouth.

You pull away once more, savoring the moment, and playfully trace the contours of the head of his dick with your tongue. Without further delay, you take him back into your mouth, the shared pleasure deepening with each devoted stroke.

You sense his hands in your hair, a gentle yet urgent pull, as he tries to guide you upward.

“As much as I love your mouth on my dick, I really want to make love to you.”

He murmurs, drawing your head towards his, initiating a fervent kiss. The taste of himself on your tongue is a fleeting reminder, you know he doesn’t mind, it only fuels the passion between you.

He presses you gently into the sheets, the heat between you intensifying. With a swift motion, he retrieves the discarded foil from the tangled sheets, tearing it open before expertly rolling the condom onto his cock.

As he lines up his dick with your eager entrance, a shiver of anticipation courses through both of you. With deliberate slowness, he eases into your folds, a dance of pleasure that draws out the exquisite tension in the air.

The languid pace of his movements creates a sweet agony, a tantalizing dance that turns seconds into eternity. His unhurried rhythm, though almost maddening, speaks volumes of his desire to etch this time into the very fabric of your memories, turning the passage of time into a canvas for your passion.

Ecstasy courses through your veins as he delves deeper, the exquisite stretch sending a shiver down your spine. A symphony of sensations unfolds, and a breathy moan escapes your lips, a testament to the delicious ache that accompanies the perfect alignment of your bodies.

With each rhythmic thrust, he unearths your most sensitive places, creating a euphoric melody that resonates with the primal rhythm of desire.

Your voice, laced with a desperate plea, dances in the air as you succumb to the overwhelming pleasure.

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you moan, the words a fervent hymn to the ecstasy that engulfs you.

His grunt reverberates through the van, primal and intense, echoing the raw desire coursing through both of you. He begins to thrust with a tantalizing combination of slow, deliberate movements and rapid, passionate surges.

Every deliberate movement is a languid dance, a symphony of intimacy orchestrated by his tender touch. The deliberate pace allows you both to savor every sensation, each gentle thrust a declaration of his love and desire.

As he descends to capture your lips, it feels like a plunge into a world where time stands still. The kiss leaves you breathless, suspended in a moment that defies gravity. It’s not just a meeting of lips; it’s a celestial dance, leaving you weightless, floating in the ethereal connection between you and him.

Your thoughts dissolve into an exquisite haze, the only clarity emerging from the waves of pleasure he orchestrates. It’s as if the symphony of sensations has drowned out everything else, leaving only the echoes of ecstasy reverberating through your mind.

The knot in your stomach, a manifestation of building pleasure, tightens with every deliberate and passionate movement. Your hands instinctively seek solace on his biceps, anchoring you to the reality of the intimate dance unfolding between your entwined bodies.

As he bends down, his warm breath tickles your earlobe, and in a husky whisper, he confesses, “I’m close, babe.”

The words, laden with raw desire, send a delicious shiver down your spine.

In the heated passion of the moment, his kisses are fervent and demanding. As his hands explore your body, a surge of desire courses through you when he skillfully pinches both your nipples with his calloused fingers. The sensation makes you arch your back, an involuntary response to the electrifying pleasure that his touch ignites.

In the throes of ecstasy, you can’t help but vocalize the overwhelming pleasure. Your breathless confession, “I’m close too. It’s so good, Yoongi,” escapes in a sultry melody, a raw expression of the intense pleasure coursing through your veins.

With a skilled move, he shifts his hand from your breasts, seamlessly guiding one of your legs over his shoulder. The new angle intensifies every sensation, his every thrust reaching new depths, causing you to release a symphony of moans that echo the escalating pleasure pulsating between you.

“You feel so good around me,” he murmurs, the praise mingling with his ragged breaths. As he maintains the unhurried rhythm, his skilled hand works wonders on your breast.

An electrifying surge courses through you, an unstoppable wave of pleasure crashing into every nerve, leaving you breathless and temporarily adrift in orgasm. As the echoes of ecstasy reverberate through your body, you find yourself in a cocoon of bliss, tethered only by the warmth of Yoongi’s presence above you.

“Fuck!”

Ecstasy courses through him, a guttural exclamation escaping his lips as the rhythmic clenching of your warm walls becomes his undoing. He succumbs to the wave of release, finding solace in the intimacy you both share.

As he releases your leg, it descends gracefully to his side, a silent testament to the shared intensity that just unfolded. Your bodies, now entwined and damp with shared desire, settle into a momentary stillness. His head, heavy with the weight of shared pleasure, finds a resting place atop yours.

He seals the moment with a lingering kiss, a sweet echo of the passion you both just shared. Gently withdrawing from your pussy, he eases himself down beside you, and discards the condom to the floor.

You witness the rhythmic dance of his chest, an intricate ballet choreographed by the ebb and flow of his breaths. Each rise and fall seems like a silent symphony, a testament to the shared intimacy that still lingers in the air.

You gracefully position yourself on his lap, catching him off guard with the sudden move. The subtle sway of your breasts becomes a tantalizing dance, drawing his gaze irresistibly. A mischievous smile plays on your lips, a silent promise of the passion that’s about to unfold.

As you bask in the afterglow, a surge of emotions overwhelms you, and you can’t hold back the confession bubbling within. “I love you so much. No matter what. I’ve loved you for so many years,” you whisper, laying bare the depths of your heart.

His eyes mirror your affection, and a serene “Me too,” escapes his lips, carrying the weight of years and years of longing. With a tender smile, you lean into him to seal the moment with a soft, lingering kiss, sealing your love in the quiet intimacy of the shared space between you two.

Hoseok’s frustration spills out as he declares, “I told you it was a bad idea to take Joonie there; he breaks everything!”

The edge in his voice carries a hint of irritation, directed at Seokjin. As they make their way back to the van, the tension in the air is palpable.

Namjoon, wearied by the perpetual reminders of his purported clumsiness, rolls his eyes. It’s evident that the narrative of him breaking everything has grown stale, and his expression reflects a mix of resignation and mild exasperation.

His steps come to an abrupt halt as the mesmerizing sight unfolds before him. The camp comes into view, revealing a sight that seizes his attention – you, cradled in Yoongi’s arms covered in blankets, perched on a stool by the flickering warmth of the campfire.

The scene, painted with the hues of the dancing flames, captures a moment of intimate togetherness that momentarily holds him captive.

He playfully smacks Hoseok’s chest, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Look at that,” he chuckles, his finger extending to showcase the van standing proudly in the distance.

Seokjin’s eyes soften with warmth as he gazes upon your tranquil figures. “Aw,” he gushes, captivated by the peaceful scene before him.

As you gradually awaken in the cocoon of Yoongi’s warmth, your eyes flutter open to find the circle of your friends seated on stools beside you. Their eyes meet yours, each reflecting a unique blend of affection, camaraderie, and unspoken stories.

Yoongi grunts a sleepy “hi,” his voice carrying the weight of the peaceful slumber you both shared.

Hoseok’s laughter rings out, breaking the serene night air. “Hi, sleepyheads,” he chuckles, searching for a beer in the dimly lit surroundings.

Namjoon’s voice breaks the quiet night, daring to remark, “You look tired and glowing.”

You release a soft breath, snuggling deeper into Yoongi’s pectorals, fingers intertwining with his.

Seokjin begins to utter, “Did you finally f–” but you abruptly cut him off, declaring, “If you finish that sentence, I’m gonna skin you alive and wear your dick like a party hat.”

Your words hit like venom, leaving Seokjin, Namjoon, and Hoseok gasping, their eyes widened as if about to fall out of their sockets.

Yoongi’s chuckles resonate underneath you, the melodic sound wrapping around you like a warm embrace, a symphony you wish would play on a loop for eternity.

→ Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I appreciate every like, comment and reblog, and please don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜 → Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts, @constancelayon, @wobblewobble822, @ktownshizzle, @moonchild1, @ultimatefangirl0, @baechugff, @jimintaemin, @parapiop7, @fckkntired, @iluvfndms, @citypop-princess, @tarahardcore, @bergandysam, @massivelyfullenthusiast, @tatyhend, @gimeow *strikethrough means tumblr isn’t letting me tag you :( **you can still be added to the taglist, just drop a comment here, on any chapter or the masterlist and I’ll add you 🌸

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