#but it all feels jumbled and rushed and lazy
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
fullofbees · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
MC/Reader is now pegging the dateables ˶⚈Ɛ⚈˵
CW: Praise (Simeon), WolfBoy [Ears + Tail] & Butt Plugs (Solomon), Cock rings & Teacher/Student scenario (Diavolo), Rough Blowjobs & Deepthroating (Barbatos)
»��----------► AFAB Reader, using a strap-on (referred to as a cock)
Tumblr media
"I've been thinking about your request," the angel says, "I'd like to try it."
With his head on your chest, you wonder if he can hear your heart stop. "Wait, really?"
He laughs, delighted by your eagerness, "Yes, really."
"I promise to make you feel so good," you whisper before pressing your lips to his.
Tonight, it's his turn to be worshipped. Three of your fingers stretch Simeon's eager hole. You pull them back to smear the sticky mess of lube around his rim. His desperate whine at the loss makes your core throb. "N-No, please, I need..." He quietly sobs. You didn't know how Simeon would react when you asked, but the succulent sight of him bent over the bed before you was the night's first surprise. The second came from his brazen behavior. You've never seen him so... uninhibited before. It makes the blood rush in your body, your core pulsing with need. "I know, baby," you hush, climbing over him and spreading his legs with your knees. It's almost sinful how easily your cock slides into him. His back bows towards the bed, a heady moan rumbling in his throat. The mattress makes it easy to bounce him against your thighs, melting his moans into sweet whimpers. "Thank you," you whisper, hips now rocking into him as you hold him still. It's so hard not to buck, all so you could hear him choke on his own cries. Simeon tries to respond, but his words are jumbled as he loses himself to the pleasure. You lean closer, reaching around to gently tug his cock, the tip wetly sliding against your palm. He manages a weak, "Mmm, not gonna last--," his hands grasping the sheets as his body trembles, his spend spilling through your fingers. You smear the excess along his length, nearly overstimulating him into a second orgasm. "So good," you praise as the angel collapses against his bed. He's still catching his breath, softly panting while you trail kisses up his spine. "Let's get you to the bath, yeah?" He nods, the last moan of the night tumbling past his lips when your cock slips out of him. Simeon's body gives under its own weight, and while you're about to freak out, worried that you injured him, the angel begins to laugh. "I'm okay," he reassures as he rolls onto his back, a lazy smile lighting up his flushed face, "My legs are like jello, though."
Tumblr media
"Do you still have your ears from Halloween by chance?" You ask the sorcerer.
Solomon looks up from his experiment, ignoring the box in your hands, as he responds, "I believe so. Do you need them for something?"
You wordlessly open the box, removing its contents and shoving it into his hands. He stares at you in disbelief, but soon, he grins at you, undoing his belt with one hand.
You let the leash fall slack in your grip, releasing the pressure that constricts Solomon's throat. His grey wolf ears are pinned back as he softly gasps, followed by choked wheezes as he tries to regain his breath. The sound of clinking metal softly rings before you tug at the leash, the choke collar digging into his flesh and cutting off his airway again. His cock twitches in your hand as you mercilessly pump him, intent on milking every last drop. The fur of his tail brushes against your arm, the sensation causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin. "What a good pup," you praise. You've bent him over the sofa's armrest, his face pressed into the cushion below. The curve of his back accentuates the slimness of his waist, making his backside look plump enough to sink your teeth into. It's too bad you already disposed of your vampire teeth. "Fuck," he barks, "Just fuck me already." Solomon fidgets, swaying his hips in a desperate attempt to find friction against the silky fabric of the settee. You pull on his tail in warning, and his hips still, a deep moan rumbling in his chest at the feeling of his hole stretching around the plug. You must've ended up staring at the toy as the sorcerer huffs impatiently, "What's taking so looong?" "If I remove it," you start, watching his hole twitch around the decorative plug, "You won't be a full puppy anymore." "That's what you're worried about!?" He howls, sagging against the armrest in exasperation. "This is why you aren't allowed to top." He shakes his head in disappointment, but you swiftly put an end to his attitude by beginning the slow pulling on the toy. The plug swells, his body stretching to accommodate the size. His criticism devolves into needy whimpers at the empty feeling he's left with once it's removed. You slide your length teasingly along his entrance, the sound of his canine whines like music to your ears. He fits perfectly around you as you slide the tip in, bottoming out when you lean over him to grab his ears. With as much strength as you can muster, you pull on his ears, forcing him to balance on his hands while his back arches. "If you want to be a brat, I'll fuck you like a brat," you say, amusement in your voice from the way he trembles.
Tumblr media
"If someone was beloved by all, do you think it would be selfish of them to still be discontent?" He asks, face staring forlornly into the teacup he holds in his large hands.
"What is troubling you, Dia?" You ask, bypassing his attempt to not confront the issue directly.
The demon prince confesses, "It's boring without any chaos." He smiles, but it is pained as he heavily sighs, "What kind of leader would find peace so lackluster?"
"Sounds like you want to be punished."
Kneeling on the plush bench at the end of his bed, Diavolo rocks his hips against yours, grinding himself back on your cock. The crop snaps audibly against his skin, making the demon gasp and jolt forward. "Thank you!" He groans, his head bowing towards the bed, where he rests on his elbows. "Another, please." You smack him with a quick flick of your wrist, and he trembles, another blissful moan filling the room. He doesn't thank you this time. After gently petting his thigh, you pull out of him, nearly making Diavolo collapse against the bench. Having realized his mistake, the demon begins to beg, "No, p-please! Please let me cum, I'm sorry..." "And so am I... but rules are rules," you tsk, "You know what to do." The towering man now sheepishly moves to sit on his bed, hands gripping the edge tightly with his legs spread before you. "Yes, professor," he says dejectedly. "Very good," you quickly praise, using the same flick of your wrist to will your magic forward. A cock ring materializes in your hand with an iridescent flash of light. Precum weeps from the tip of his cock, beads dripping along his length. You tease him with the ring, coating it with his spend to allow it to slide on with ease. Diavolo hisses when you slide the ring down his shaft, cool silicone titillative against his fiery arousal. His fingers dig into the mattress, a desirous grip threatening to split the seams as you adjust the ring around the base of his cock. You smile at how his hips buck into your touch, seeking release that he has yet to earn. "You're doing so well," you whisper into the space between you both, hand brushing away sweaty strands of hair that cling to his forehead. The demon leans into your touch, eyes closed as he accepts your merciful affections, starkly contrasting the harsh enforcer that met him initially. With a snap of your fingers, the ring buzzes to life. Diavolo grunts, teeth gritting at the sudden stimulation to his overworked cock. Your hands fall to his knees, holding his legs apart as the vibrations return his body to the orgasm you had previously denied. He nearly sobs when you snap the ring to stillness once more.
Tumblr media
"Can we make the most of tonight?" You ask, resting your cheek upon the demon's shoulder.
He laughs, an all-knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "What kind of question is that?
"I want to do something you've never done before, never, in the history of time."
Your hands are tangled in Barbatos's hair, tugging on the sage strands as you bury your cock in his throat. Saliva gathers at the corners of his mouth, leaving sloppy trails as it dribbles past his lips and down his chin. "Fuck, Barb, are you sure I'm not hurting you?" You ask, concerned after the demon chokes on his moans. He pulls back with a wet pop, threads of spit connecting him still to your cock. Barbatos licks his lips, hungrily eyeing the length between your legs as he responds, "Quite sure. I implore you to be more rough." Your core pulses with need, doubly so at the rare sight of the demon's disheveled appearance; His hair strays wildly from its usual neatness, lips swollen from your ravaging, and ivory skin flushed crimson. Barbatos peers up at you through his long lashes, a devilish grin complimenting the sinful desire in his eyes. "I live to serve," he says with ease, as if you're not the first he's had to convince of his loyalty. "Okay..." You whisper shakily, "Open, please?" He obeys, and without thinking, you tap the head of your cock against his waiting tongue. You effortlessly glide along the soft muscle, aided by his saliva, as you slip back down his throat. Since he asked for rough, you sling your leg over his shoulder, fingers lacing through his hair once more. Barbatos holds you steady, bare hands sinking into the flesh of your thighs, guiding your hips as you begin to thrust. The privacy of his room allows you to be vocal, the air filled with your pleased sighs and his satiny, gagged groans. It's easy to lose yourself to the arousal building in your core, the pace becoming frantic and erratic as you chase your climax. Your hands hold Barbatos, pressed flush against your lower stomach, as the coil finally snaps. His hands slide along your skin to your ass, clinging desperately to your body as you ride out your high. The demon's grip falters when you step away, coughing as air rushes into his lungs and cools the burn in his throat. "Shit, shit, are you okay?" You ask, pushing his dampened hair away from his eyes. His voice may be hoarse, but Barbatos smiles at you, "I've never had a meal that delicious."
Tumblr media
A/N: I feel like these aren't as good as the brothers' ˢᵒᵇ(ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣ ہ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣ ✿)ˢᵒᵇ - so feedback/criticism is appreciated!!
160 notes · View notes
mrkis · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
⛧ this is apart of my ‘MARK BDAY REQUEST SPECIAL’ event that i will be doing for his bday (wednesday-sunday). requests are OPEN for this.
Tumblr media
REQUEST: ⇢ mark nsfw a to z 🥹🙏🏼
Tumblr media
⛧ WARNINGS: 18+ content, mentions of cum, mentions of toys, mentions of female and male genitalia, mentions of unprotect sex,
Tumblr media
— [A]FTERCARE.
mark would bounce in between two things. one, he would make sure that you're okay and that you're not sore, opting to clean you up with his shirt because he just forgets to grab a towel while whispering about how much he loves you and how good it was. maybe he'd rush to the kitchen to grab you both a bite to eat (it's cereal. he can't make anything else) and he'd sit with you as you fill your tummies, listening to the music that softly plays in the background from his portable speaker.
two, mark would be lazy and exhausted after using too much energy, especially if he fucked you more than usual. he'd wrap his arms around you tightly, not caring about the sweat or the stickiness of it all, he just wants you in his embrace, he wants to feel you still. he'd whisper sweet little nothings, kisses your lips every so often, tells you how much he loves you through slurred speech because he's so tired.
— [B]ODY PART.
on him, he doesn't really know what his favourite body part is. sometimes he feel as though its his hands, especially with how easily he can make you cum with them. other times he thinks it's his nipples because of how he's so sensitive there and his body curls in whenever you brush over them with your fingers or tongue.
on you, it's your ass. he's an ass man. he would also argue that he loves everything about you (which he does), but he's so easily swayed by your ass that he can't help but touch it every chance he gets. sometimes he'd touch it when there isn't any sexual activity going on, he'll just slip his hand down to rest it there.
— [C]UM.
mark can be messy when he cums, quick too. he gets too overwhelmed by how well you're sucking him in with your mouth or pussy that he can't help but just let himself go. he warns you all the time, a jumbled mess of words about how he's going to cum before he sees it already seeping past your lips or spilling out of your pussy.
his mouth falls open when he cums, eyebrows pinched together, a curse or even a moan falling from his lips. sometimes he whines if it's too much.
— [D]IRTY SECRET.
mark's dirty secret is that he gets turned on way too much by you. everything about you just makes his cock hard and even when you're doing something so simple as sitting, walking around or scrolling through your phone, he can't help but think how you would look with his cock in your mouth or bent over in front on him as he pounds into you from behind.
— [E]XPERIENCE.
mark would be inexperienced when you first meet. maybe he's had his dick sucked a few times by some randoms and he's shared drunken, sloppy kisses with people during parties that he doesn't fully remember, but he's inexperienced in the sex department.
with his background, he thinks he would wait until marriage to have sex with his partner. but upon meeting you, getting to know you and spending so much time with you, he realises maybe he doesn't exactly want to wait anymore. he’s more than happy to give you every part of him.
— [F]AVOURITE POSITION.
you riding him and doggystyle are two of his favourite positions. he's an ass man, so fucking you from behind, seeing the recoil of your ass every time it smacks against his hips has him almost cumming on the spot. (and he definitely gropes your cheeks as he fucks you).
when you ride him, he's able to see all of you and he loves that. watches where you're connected, feels mesmerised with the way your pussy swallows his cock. sees your tits bounce, how your facial expressions give away exactly what you're feeling, how the smooth roll of your hips as his mind reeling.
— [G]OOFY.
mark tries to be serious during sex but 70% of the time, he fails. he makes miniature mistakes, tripping over his own feet when he undresses himself, accidentally knocks his forehead against yours, bites down hard on your lip when the kisses gets too rough and hungry. ends up smiling and giggling when it fully dawns on him that he's inside of you, accidentally calls you 'bro' or 'dude' when he tries to dirty talk.
— [H]AIR.
keeps himself neatly groomed or bare, leaning more towards bare when he knows he's going to be fucking you but gets comfortable enough over time to keep the hair there neat. he doesn't really care about hair on you, he's fine with whatever you do and whatever you're comfortable with. mark doesn't judge.
— [I]NTIMACY.
intimacy is important to mark. he needs that intimate connection. wants to make eye contact with you while you're fucking, to see the love and adoration, to know he's not alone in what he feels for you. can get emotional during those moments, especially if everything feels overwhelming for him. wants to hear you tell him how much you love him and he'll do the same right back.
— [J]ACKING OFF.
masturbates in the shower or in his bed during the dead of night, making sure everyone's asleep before he does so. also masturbates to relieve the pent up stress he feels from his busy schedules, thinks about you as he's doing it to help him out. he looks at photos of you mainly, but sometimes when he struggles to cum, he'll give you a call just to hear your voice. (he'll maybe get in the mood to ask you to say some things to him)
— [K]INK.
he likes leaving marks, whether that'll be hickeys or bite marks. likes it when you suck on his fingers to keep yourself quiet if you're fucking in the dorms, not wanting anyone to hear how good he's making you feel. sometimes he likes it when you choke him, but he has to be in the right mood for it otherwise he'll panic.
— [L]OCATION.
definitely prefers inside the comfort of your own rooms, maybe the shower if he's feeling adventurous. if he had to pick between his room and yours, he would choose yours. he sometimes gets a little awkward and embarrassed while fucking in his room at the dorms while everyone is awake or lingering around, on edge at the thought of getting teased by the members for the sounds.
— [M]OTIVATION.
he doesn't need a lot of motivation to get turned on by you, but he likes it when you show how desperate you are for him. when you whisper in his ear how badly you want to fuck him right now or how hot he looks. gets turned on by the simplest of touches you give him whether that's you touching his thighs innocently or his back/shoulders. likes it when you stare at him while biting or licking your lips.
— [N]O.
turned off by anything that brings you and him pain, he doesn't want you both getting hurt. would have to have a serious talk about things if you want to try something out that includes a little bit of pain.
also gets turned off by the thought of bringing someone else into the bedroom. he doesn't want to share you, he can never bring himself to do it. he's yours as you are his. he'll lose confidence, he'll feel uncomfortable, his mind will race with thoughts thinking that they're better than him.
— [O]RAL.
he's unbelievably good at oral. loves laying between your thighs, moaning into your pussy as he eats you out as if you're his final meal, moaning and drooling because he's just so into it. loves it when you sit on his face too, caging his head between your thighs, raking your fingers through his hair as his hands grip your thighs or your ass.
loves it when you give him head. the image of you on your knees with his cock in your mouth drives him insane and he cums so fast, panting heavily, holding the back of your head or caressing your face.
— [P]ACE.
he can fuck you slow and he can fuck you fast, it all depends on the mood. he does like starting off slow first through, allowing himself to feel every inch of you, allowing you to get use to his size until you beg and plead for him to fuck you faster which he does. gets a random spurt of adrenaline and uses it on you, doesn't stop until you're both satisfied.
— [Q]UICKIE.
doesn't really like having quickies but has gotten used to them over time due to him not really have enough time to pleasure you fully because of his busy schedules and busy days. definitely whines and complains a little if you're trying to tease him or taking to long to get undressed, ends up fucking you half dressed because he needs that release before he has to leave.
— [R]ISK.
he isn't the biggest risk taker although he can have his moments where he's thinking about fucking you or eating you out in a place that he wouldn't usually it. the biggest risk he's taken in your relationship is having you suck his cock and fucking you backstage in a tiny closet at a concert, but that's it. however he has thought about bringing you into the practice room or recording booth when nobody else is around, but that's definitely too risky.
— [S]TAMINA.
his stamina is always high unless he's exhausted. if he's overworked, he has low stamina. can't go for long, probably stops the second he cums. but when he's not exhausted and filled with energy, he can go for as long as you both can handle it.
— [T]OYS.
isn't opposed to buying toys, but he knows he makes you feel good with his tongue, his fingers and cock. so truthfully, he doesn't really see the point in buying toys. if you wanted one, he would reconsider though. maybe he would buy a small vibrator for both of you to use.
— [U]NFAIR.
when he's in the moment, he can be a tease. he gets cocky sometimes, especially when he's feeling confident in himself. he'll smirk at you, raising his brow as you touch him, asking him to touch you or something. he'll ghost his fingers over your thighs and stomach, but he won't touch you where you need him the most until you're practically begging for him.
— [V]OLUME.
starts off deep, curses a lot, mumbles a bunch of words when he gets too overwhelmed. then deep moans turns into grunts, then grunts somehow turn into high pitched moans when he's getting close to cumming, gets louder and whinier.
— [W]ILD CARD.
"you're so hard, mark" you tease as you dip your hand beneath the waistband of his shorts, feeling his cock grow in the palm of your head and he presses his lips together tightly to not make a sound, leaning his head back against the headboard. "you're so big"
"everyone is home" he reminds you warily despite his hips moving up, fucking into your fist. "they'll hear me"
"then you'll just have to learn to keep quiet" you smirk as you pull his cock out of his shorts, freeing him and he hisses at the cold air that hits his tip, throat feeling tight as you begin to pump your hand.
he whines, "you know i can't be quiet when it comes to you"
— [X]-RAY.
definitely bigger than he'd ever like to admit, makes him feel fuzzy when you tell him how big his cock is. likes to see you struggle to adjust to it.
— [Y]EARNING.
mark's sex drive is pretty high. he may not think about sex every second of the day, but he's always in the mood to fuck you whenever you feel up for it.
— [Z]ZZ.
falls asleep with his head resting on your chest or on your stomach after sex, likes it when you play with his hair and affectionately stroke his ear. he falls asleep so quickly and easily in your arms, likes to be close with you. even when you're relaxing in bed together, he curl up beside you, head resting against your side with his hand either in yours or touching you for comfort.
Tumblr media
538 notes · View notes
oatmealdaydreams · 10 months ago
Text
Burning Timber, Grey Fog
Woo boy, it's day four already? Damn. Finally made a taglist! Just a general one for my fics. If ya want to be on it, pls ask.
Pairing: Logince, gen
Trigger/Content Warning: depression, overworking, insecurity
Description: Roman has a horrible creative block due to burnout, and Logan experiences brain fog unlike any other. They decide to take care of each other for a nice day of rest and self-care.
Extra: written for Day 4: Block by Burnout of @loginceweek2024! Inputting a little bit of ‘Logan struggles with depression’ because I say so. Also, making creative burnout literal for Creativity is a must (change my mind, you can’t). Got rushed, sorry folks!
[Masterlist] | ao3 link
[read under the cut]
When Roman’s hand sparks, he realizes that it won’t be a productive day. 
When Logan wakes up in figurative fog and struggles with moving much, he knows it’ll be a day of grey. 
When Roman’s hand sparks, he realizes that it won’t be a productive day. 
He has so much to do. He has to reword a few things in this paragraph, finish the draft for another project, rework an entire section of this other one… He’s already late on a lot of these, and Thomas has commitments he agreed to. He can’t just not go because his Creativity is being slow and not doing its job. Roman needs to be creative, he needs to get these things done. He has to. He knows, everyone knows, he has to. 
His ink-stained hands ache and start to burn, but he just pushes on. The feathered pen he writes with is an extension of his arm by now, and it scribbles words onto the pages before him. The words themselves look blurry- he can’t tell if it says want or won’t- and the paper seems to blend in with his desk. He can’t quite remember which project he’s working on right now. Is it the short story? Is it the poetry collection, the one he needs to reframe a little? He’s not sure, but he still needs to write, write, write. What kind of Prince would he be if he let down his family and his centre? He can’t afford to let down the Others, to let down Thomas. He can’t stop. Even if his hands burn now, he can’t stop. 
His hands disagree with him, however, when one sparks and catches the paper on fire. It’s only a small flame, but it breaks Roman from his thoughts. He immediately pulls his hands away, dropping his pen. He tries to blow the fire out. He resorts to dumping some of his water on it- wait, when did he get water- which puts out the fire, but it also wets the thin paper. A corner of the paper is burnt and ashy. Roman sets his forgotten water cup down and stares at his ruined project. He put all that work, all that hard work, into finishing this project and now he has get new paper and rewrite everything, and- and- 
Roman hands spark again as spots of wet drip onto his desk. He realizes a minute late that he’s crying, eyes red-rimmed already. He inhales a shaky breath as he shrinks in his chair. He knows what this means, when his hands spark and he catches things on fire and ruins things. He sniffles as he holds his hands tucked against his chest, still staring at what he did. It hurts, very much so, to see all of the time and energy wasted because of his stupid, stupid hands. He curses under his breath, conceding to the fact that this means it won’t be a productive day for him. At least, not what he considers productive. He’s heard Janus’ lecture before: self-care is productive, it helps your health, you need to rest for a bit and listen to your body and blah, blah, blah. Guilt bubbles up in his gut and to his chest. His chest aches, his heart aches, at the thought of not getting work done.
Lazy, lazy, lazy, he can practically hear his thoughts. 
Roman can’t sit here, he knows. He’ll just try to work more and catch more things on fire, and ruin more things, and he can’t do that ‘cause it doesn’t help. 
Stupid, f*cking burnout. 
And he can’t think if he could still work on projects. His mind feels all jumbled and messy and it’s like… like… well, he can't even think of a simple metaphour. He sighs, sniffling again. He should go find someone. It’s better when he can be distracted with someone. He wants comfort, though he feels so icky to want. 
“It’s okay that I want things,” he mumbles to himself, a reminder the Others often tell him. 
So, before his thoughts can yell at him more, he forces himself out of his chair and out his door. 
~~~ 
When Logan wakes up in figurative fog and struggles with moving much, he knows it’ll be a day of grey. 
He can hardly open his eyes.  He feels icky and gross and sweaty as he lays in bed with sheets this way and that. It takes great effort to just look around and spot his clock. It reads 11pm. He sighs, realizing how late he slept in. Late for him, at least. Logan hears static in his ears, and his mind buzzes slowly and unsure. Every moment he makes to adjust his position or feel around for his glasses makes his body groan in protest like an old machine, unoiled and rusty. Everything feels so grey. It’s like… his brain feels soaked in figurative fog, and it takes a lot to move. It sucks, especially because he’d promised Janus yesterday they’d play chess today. He has work to do, a commitment he can’t just get out of, and he’s just being so lazy.
He tucks his arm back under him when he can’t find his glasses. Frustration shifts into upset and tears prick his eyes. He doesn’t understand why. It’s just his glasses, there’s no reason to be emotional. He whimpers pathetically as it gets worse. He’s going to fail like this. He can’t fail, he’s Logic. Logic can’t fail. That’s not how it works, he can’t fail, Logic can’t fail, he can’t- can’t-
A knock on his door gets left unanswered, no energy to even get out of bed. He tries to stifle a stupid whine, but it slips quietly through his throat. The person knocks again, and he hopes they go away. He hopes they won’t see and hear how lazy and pathetic he’s being. 
I need to get up. I need to work. I can’t be lazy, I can’t.
“...Lo?” a soft, familiar voice calls from beyond the door. 
If only he could think, he’d name the voice. 
“Logan, I'm coming in, okay?”
Logan shuts his eyes again, giving up on moving. He hears a distant concerned noise as someone walks over to his bedside. He feels the sheet ruffle and shift as the person sits beside him. They brush strands of greasy hair out of his face, and the warm hand makes him lean into the touch. The person coos at him, repeating the action. After a little bit, Logan’s eyes slowly crack open. It’s blurry, but he can make out red and gold and white. 
“Hey there, specs. Welcome to the waking world,” it’s Roman, his brain finally supplies, brushing his hair back. 
His voice is soft and gentle, and it makes Logan float a little. He hums at the nerd. 
“Can you move today, or is it a lot?” the Prince asks. 
As soon as the nerd groans, he has his answer. 
“Okay, sweetheart. How about a bath, hm? I bet that’d help get all the ickiness off.”
“Then I- I’d get up,” Logan slurs, whining. 
“Don’t worry, little nerd, I’ll help you. Okay?”
“Okay…”
Roman slowly scoops his struggling detective in his arms, easing him up a little against his pillows. 
“Alright, I’m going to sit you up all the way. Squeeze my hand if you need to stop, little nerd.”
Logan nods, and Roman takes one of his hands in his. He squeezes lightly and Logan responds, showing he can tell him to stop if need be. He gently helps the logical Side sit up, keeping an eye on him as he does so. As soon as he’s sat up, he places a light kiss on his icky hair, not caring how icky it may be because Logan is more important. 
“There we go. Good job, sweetheart. I’m proud of you,” Roman mumbles against his hair. 
“Mm, yeah?”
“Yeah. Now, do you think you can try standing up, or do you want me to carry you?”
Logan heistates, “...carry, please?”
“Of course, sweetheart. Lean on your headboard for me, alright?”
The detective does as bid as Roman separates himself from him. A whine slips from his lips as he pulls away, and the Prince shushes him as he hooks his arms under Logan’s knees and behind his back. Logan takes the opportunity to place his arms around Roman’s neck and lean on him. Or at least, attempt to move his arms the best he can. Roman slowly lifts him as his hands end up resting on his chest. Logan can’t find it in him to care. 
Eventually, they make it to the bathroom. The knight sets his nerd on the toilet as he starts the bath. He makes sure it’s warm enough, but not burning, before he turns back to his nerd. 
“Need help in, sweetheart?”
“No,” he speaks so softly.
“Okay, want me in here with you, or are you okay by yourself?”
“Mm, myself.”
“Alright. Just yell for me if you need anything. I’ll be right out the door, okay? I’ll put some soft clothes for you on the sink before I leave.”
Logan just nods as Roman places a pair of soft clothes on the sink next to him. He kisses Logan’s forehead before he leaves and shuts the door behind him. Logan takes a breath for a minute before he prepares for his bath. Roman sits against the door, almost as if to keep watch while his companion takes care of himself. 
~~~
After a while of helping Logan out the bath and down to the living room, he sets them both up on the couch. 
There’s two water glasses on the coffee table in front of them, along with selections of snacks and such to keep fed. Logan wears his unicorn onesie, fiddling with a small crow plushie with fabric glasses on it. Its eyes are orange. Roman sits beside him, now in soft things instead of his prince outfit, pulling up Netflix on the tv. There’s a space blanket wrapped around the nerd that huddles in. 
“Roman?” 
“Yeah, what is it, specs?”
“Why… what were you doing in front of my door earlier?”
Roman shifts in his spot.
“Well, it was late for you, and you weren’t up, so… I came to check on you.”
“...you noticed I was gone?”
Roman lightly scoffs, “Of course, I did. What kind of quest- oh, oh hey.”
He turns to see tears sluggishly fall down Logan’s face. He makes a concerned noise as he thumbs the tears away, cupping his face and sitting down the remote. Logan avoids his eyes, sniffling quietly. 
“Oh, sweetheart, what’s going on in that mind of yours?” Roman asks gently. 
“I, I just-”
To his horror, he cries harder. Roman scoops him up in his arms, into his lap, and rocks him. Logan buries himself under his chin, breathing shakily as he cries. When it sounds painful, Roman shushes him and rubs soothing circles on his back. 
“I just didn’t…” Logan speaks as his cries slowly calm down, gulping around the lodge in his throat. “I didn’t think anyone would notice. I- there’s a lot I need to do, and I can’t.”
“Oh, Logan… someone will always notice. Not just me. Patton would, and Virgil, and what do you think Janus and Remus would do? Hm?”
“Remus would break my door,” he grumbles.
Roman lightly chuckles, because he’s seen Remus break doors to get to others before, and he knows he does more than just that. He can’t count the number of times his brother smashed his door or plop in on top of him from the ceiling, all because he sensed Roman having a Bad Brain Day. 
“Yeah, he would. And Janus would start talking about how it’s okay to feel like that. Because it is, sweetheart. It’s okay if your brain isn’t cooperating, or if today’s a grey one.”
Logan nods smally against his chest, “I know. You know that too, right?”
Roman heistates, “Um, yeah, of course I do.”
Logan gives him a look as he turns up at him. 
“What?”
“You’re burntout, Roman.”
The Prince pauses at the bluntness, glancing away from the detective in his arms. 
“I saw your hands sparking and twitching earlier. Which is why,” he grabs one of Roman’s hands for emphasis. “I asked why you were outside my door.”
“I did notice, by the way. The Others would’ve gotten to spoil you, and I want a turn.”
Logan smiles slightly, “I know. But you know you also have to be spoiled.”
“But I have things to do, and I can’t just stop, and let people down-”
“Someone told me it’s okay if you need rest, Roman.”
Roman scoffs, “Using my own words against me.”
“Technically, they’re Janus’ words-”
“Okay, okay, I get it. Guess it’s a Bad Brain Day for both of us.”
“Then let me spoil you, too. I want to.”
Roman rests his chin on Logan’s head as his detective leans back against his chest. 
“Only if I can still spoil you, nerd.”
“We’ll spoil each other, then.”
Roman smiles at that, picking the remote up with his free hand. 
“So, what should we watch then?”
The pair do as promised and take care of each other for the rest of the day. Caring for Logan is the perfect distraction Roman needs, and it helps Logan feel all the more loved and appreciated. Logan reminds his prince that taking a break from creating is okay, and that he’s happy to spoil the sh*t out of him. They cuddle and watch movies for a long while before one of the Others starts making dinner, spotting the duo on the couch. 
Janus watches from the shadows, smiling as he sees them rest and relax for once in their workaholic lives.
Taglist: @lost-in-thought-20
33 notes · View notes
joehillssimp · 1 year ago
Text
Hermitfam is baaaad.
Like it's passable when you consider it's a 30-40 something year old white guy writing and performing it, but like... aside from that it's baad.
The backing beat is good, I like it. However, the chill vibes don't really match the speed Impulse pulls right after the intro poems. It honestly feels more like the backing beat for a singer than that for a rap song, missing the heavy percussion and.... BEAT, that that is typical of the genre.
Even more chill rap songs like Young and Wild and Free(Wiz Kalifa, Snoop Dogg, Bruno Mars, etc) have a set percussion and rhythm that guides the song along and helps to set the pace for the artists performing on the song. And that is really the core of the problem with this song.
Impulse doesn't know how to stay on beat, and doesn't seem to understand that the performer is supposed to stand out, but still fit into the overall composition of the song.
I won't talk about the opening bars, those are more spoken poetry and an introduction than anything. But the first real verse, despite being the strongest one, with a consistent flow, has the problem of not quite matching the backing track.
I don't much to say about it other than that, it's the best part.
Then the chorus comes in with Impulse kicking it up about half a notch speedwise, returns to that thing he did in Hermitgang where he tries to shove too many syllables into one bar, making the whole thing sound jumbled and rushed, like he didn't take the time to actually smooth out the little bumps in his writing before recording.
After that, the next 2 verses have this kind of spoken word, beat poetry, vibe to them. Which is fine, if he hadn't tried to open the song itself with speedrap.
Now it's not uncommon for rappers to have 1 verse, or a bridge in a different style than the rest of the song, but it's hardly ever the first verse, and usually when they bring on a guest, who's voice adds variety and it supposed to act as a high point in the song, before having another chorus or whatever to finish off the song.
It's a climax. So musically, Impulse has the Climax right at the start of the song, and then the rest a kind of chill slide down a lazy river. And i should say, there is nothign wrong with a slower flow, a lot of rappers from the east coast are hella successful off their slower flows, but once again, their flows are on beat, with a consistent cadence and blend with the backing track.
So when he starts off fast, and then slows down for all his other lines, which are at most 12 syllables each, it feels like he couldn't figure out what to say about the rest of the server, or that he was padding for runtime so the song would reach that 2 minute mark. Not to mention completely leaving out TFC.
And I think, that aside from there being no rhythm to the song, Impulse's voice isn't properly balanced by the rest of the beat. Impulse's voice, I wouldn't say it's high pitched, but it's very close to the tonal range that the rest of the song exists in, and so they use volume to make him stand out. It would have been better if perhaps they had taken some deep bass, and used that to set some kind of rhythm, with higher melodies that create a space for Impulse's voice to stand out, while keeping all the audio levels at reasonable levels.
As it stands, Impulse is so loud you can barely hear the beat, especially during the chorus.
I'm not good at explaining my thoughts but yeah uhhh...
In regards to impulse's writing...
Think of the consonants in a word, or line, to be like a drum beat. The way each one is stressed and unstressed, creating each hit and pause in the percussive melody.
For people not familiar with music theory, even drums have tones and pitches, and when you write a rap song, your voice becomes a part of the drums, who's tones support the melody, rather than the melody themselves like in normal singing.
And I listen to how Impulse phrases his words, and how he places his stresses and pauses, and it creates something akin to a child just beating a drum however they like, getting tired but still hitting, and then doing whatever they want on the chorus as well. it's not a good sound.
And the worst part is that I KNOW that impulse plays the drums. I KNOW that he should have a better understanding of rhythm and cadence than that shown in the song. Which makes this as a whole more disappointing.
Maybe he just doesn't understand how that all translates to writing.
I genuinely believe impulse could have made a better song, writing, cadence, overseeing the creation of the beat so it matched his creative vision....
I dunno it feels rushed.
And it sounds like a bad song.
4 notes · View notes
literary-motif · 2 months ago
Text
Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. (I am sobbing inconsolably)
Where do I even begin with this?
Historical fiction. Absolutely divine. I adore the premise of this, setting a Xanthus fic during The Great War is such a perfect, heart wrenching idea.
The atmosphere in this was off the charts. The way you captured the feeling of the scenery as well as the overarching terror of war is sublime, truly.
What I have noticed in a lot of media concerning WWI & WWII, as in mostly retroactive retelling, the horrors experienced are narrated by children. The idea behind it is clear: children are innocent (so to speak), ignorant of the bigger picture. They see things as they are, a dead body is just a corpse that steals away their illusion of reality. It normally does not lead them down a path of political reflection, and questioning their loyalty to a state that allowed this war to happen. I have always thought of this narrative choice to stem from a sort of laziness of the authors writing it. It feels like they do not even attempt to capture the horrors of war --- something that literature and art of any kind will certainly always fail at, but to at least try capture the feeling evoked by it would be a start --- and instead choose to break it down so much (to fit into the child's perspective) that everything becomes jumbled and loses the very essence of the history of the historical fiction they were writing.
This is the polar opposite of that.
Xanthus understands the extent of war perfectly, sees the atrocities of mankind's creation and reflects on them. This is what I want when I read historical fiction set in a war. This is the anguish I want to feel, when a vampire who has lived for centuries thinks the world has hit rock bottom.
(Scarlett write a book, I beg you. I would devour it. You are exactly the author I have been searching for in all my literary adventures.)
There are just so many poetic lines in this. God, the way you formulate your sentences is sublime. You find a way to put words in just the right order to make everything flow so smoothly. It feels like I'm reading narrative poetry.
The reference to All Quiet On The Western Front (a movie that has left me shaken to my core and a book that made me sit in silence for a solid hour when I finished it during a free period in school one day) made me gasp. Very clever. The reference hurt, however.
The history you managed to convey in such a short piece is fascinating. I love the brief overview of Ypres, and the gas. Oh dear.
Even still. Xanthus Claiborne: A murderer, an unnatural; and Lawrence Claiborne, the soldier. All his duplicities should have shielded him from this horror. All it managed was to kill his dreams – war was still carnage, and for as much as he could pretend he was distanced from it, bloodbaths would still reflect his face when he bore down on murdered men. 
This whole paragraph is absolute gold. It captures Xanthus so perfectly, his history, his views, the pessimism and careful disdain he has for the world nowadays. It is so painful to read because it contrasts the aloof, confident and uncaring version of himself to the heartbroken, bitter and scared one this war has reverted him to.
This war was an assault on all senses, Xanthus thought as he brutalized himself. Sure, the smell and the taste and the sight, but by God, it was the hearing that came first. How ironic that now it was peaceful, now there was quietude, after the dread took its strongest.  Where was it when Xanthus stood, more attuned than anyone, to the rattle of gunfire and men screaming? Rushing across no-man’s land left him able to hear out to the German trenches and everything between. He simply had to suffer it. And where was it when he laid at night, a being without need of sleep, but desperate for it so he could drown out the tanks and the roaring aviation? When he heard the few friends he made hearts stop pumping?  Where was it when Xanthus turned his rifle on an ear, and shot the organ clean off?  And where was it when it, after he blamed it on battle, regrew in four months?
Sobbing uncontrollably. This whole segment is beautiful. The exploration how his heightened senses would cause him to perceive the war is so heartbreaking, and you thought about this so well. Xanthus is so human throughout this entire fic (in his fear, paranoia and even in his actions and yielding to his impulses (which is so very rare for him)) that this reminder that he is, in fact, now is such a gut punch honestly.
Of course he is not human. Of course he hears everything. And this is what I mean when I applaud your atmosphere, because it is so easy to imagine the gunfire, and the men screaming, and the firing of the tanks and the aviation above. I can see him, laying on his back, looking up, looking beyond whatever obstructs his view of the sky and see the vessel bringing down hell.
The string of questions is so very poetic, and it works on so many levels. It shows Xanthus' helplessness in the situation, his desperation. It is a frantic, paranoid mind asking why while it is his bitterness, his rage at the world doing the same.
It also works perfectly in breaking my heart, the slow ascension to the last part --- shooting off his ear, feigning a battle wound only for it to heal because vampire --- done so perfectly that I could cry. It is such a great exploration of an immortal between mortals, someone who can't get hurt in any meaningful way while those around him drop dead like flies.
He had witnessed humanity’s descent – ascent? – into this madness. Hell, he was older than the country his fellow soldiers lauded as their savior. And yet he was here, with them. Suffering, dying in the great quiet, knived by the mental games their very species played. 
"dying in the great quiet" is such a raw line, I can't fully put it into words. It ties in perfectly with the beginning --- Xanthus disheartened, paranoid because of the quiet around him (war is rarely quiet, after all) and only waiting with bated breath for something to happen --- but is is so much more than a simple stylistic stitch. It is the very essence of war, it captures the death of it, the destruction after the bombs have drops and the gas disperses. It is the field of corpses, it is the blood-red tainted no-man's land with only the angel of death to bear witness. It is the overwhelming quiet after everyone around him has died.
"the great quiet" of such a masterful synonym for "The Great War." Very well done, I am in awe.
He had never expected to truly be hurt, to be affected. But in their efforts to decimate each other, they managed to even wound immortality. A vampire reduced to human fears, because of humans, without the possible human release. 
"wound immortality" is again such a poetic expression that I cannot help but let my dinner run cold because I simply can't shut up about this masterpiece. Wound immortality. Just try to picture that. And this is what I mean when I say you capture the horror of war, because this right there is just the right thing to do it. Wound immortality. It is incomprehensible --- on a metaphysical level, of course Xanthus is wounded because of the mental strain the war has on him but we are looking at the bigger picture here --- and vague enough to incorporate all of humanities suffering, and the impossibly deep red stain (both) the world war(s) has left on history. It is a scar that can never fade. It is a terrific part of history that can never be erased, suffering that can never be atoned for because the pain it caused is simply too great to grasp and too much to forgive.
The segment with the soldier is practically twisting the knife, a perfect ending to a perfect masterpiece. The thought of draining him --- killing him --- being mercy rather than a selfish act, a yielding to his impulses to feed, makes my heart ache, especially combined with the idea the soldier has of Xanthus being an angel, and this particular line:
To ‘save’ as many as he could from this war, only to force them into a future more brutal than anyone could dream.
because we know the future turned even bleaker after WWI, Xanthus reflecting the time from his own death a few centuries prior and wishing to have been spared witnessing the madness of WWI. And at this point, he does not know that it will get worse, the few years afterwards merely a short respite before new atrocities tore apart the world anew. Which makes it all the more poetic and all the more symbolic that he kills the soldier in the end, truly showing him mercy, both by taking him out of the First World War and preventing him from living through the second, a mercy Lawrence was not shown and a price Xanthus must pay for eternity.
Thus:
The blood stayed warm, even as a body turned to a corpse. And Xanthus, who could do nothing but remain, drank. 
is the perfect ending, tying up the narrative exquisitely and leaving a hollow feeling ringing in my chest.
Scarlett, you've outdone yourself.
Tumblr media
Dulce et Decorum est
↳ Xanthus serves in World War I. ↳ 2.4k words / also available on ao3! ↳ This fic is far from accurate to the actual Ypres Salient. I wanted to explore Xanthus' mentality as he canonically served in WWI. So, while I did some research, most of this fic is inspired by wartime poetry, particularly 'In Flanders Field' by John McCrae and both 'Dulce et Decorum est' and ‘Exposure’ by Wilfred Owen. Also! I discovered this painting while writing that's basically the exact setting of the fic. ↳ Content warning for blood, disease, guns, and (specifically trench) warfare.
It was hard to believe that, even in the midst of war, silence could envelope the world. Thick layers of it painted the Ypres Salient, as disturbing as the starless midnight it shared the hour with. Not the skuttle of a rat, not grass in a breeze. Death, it seemed, had a way of silencing. 
For all intents and purposes, it was all quiet on the Western front. 
Xanthus didn’t trust it one bit. 
How could he trust the very thing he cheated? His eyes drifted across no-man’s land, the scorched earth left by the Germans, with a tremble he hadn’t felt since his first time serving in the British army. Fog obscured the skyline. Corpses of trees barely stood, crooked and black. For as far as he could see, there was no green. Just the torn-up dirt and puddles of not-quite water. 
Xanthus’ grip tightened on the rifle. His nails were bitten to the quick. 
His gaze never left the scene. Even from the shallow view allotted to him by the firestep, shadows and whispers danced, him a beat behind their rhythm. They would disappear as soon as he glanced at them, then reappear in the peripheral gloom. Still, he chased them, eyes darting from ghost to ghost.  
War, it seemed, had a way of invoking paranoia. 
Xanthus’ trench was along the front lines, and he, given the honor of being on nightwatch during the tense time. Just two years ago, Ypres had been fought for again, and the Entente had lost. Badly. The Germans overran the old British and French trenches which had cleaved into their conquered territory, the Allies calling upon their own for assistance. Canadians, Indians, Algerians, and Moroccans now fought for a war forced upon them, the same way Belgians had to step up and defend Ypres as the Germans marched ever-forward. 
New allies were not the only introductions during the second fight for Ypres. Chlorine gas had swept through the battle and choked out countless men. 
Apparently, that wasn’t enough. 
Xanthus’ gaze flitted back down to the ground. Glass pools replicated the hell above. Swirled in them, the only color was a murky red from the slaughter of soldiers. It was an easy trick. But below, sunk to the bottom of the mixture, was a colorless poison. They had all thought it to be the same as the chlorine; when the smell was faint of mustard and men didn’t immediately drop, they even spat about how the Germans were growing weak.
It took a few hours for the effects to set in. 
Xanthus darted his sights back up to the wasteland. He had known better than to trust hope – the Americans had joined the war not long ago, and the news managed to enhearten some, but not Xanthus. This was penance for that longing for a better future. 
Even still. Xanthus Claiborne: A murderer, an unnatural; and Lawrence Claiborne, the soldier. All his duplicities should have shielded him from this horror. All it managed was to kill his dreams – war was still carnage, and for as much as he could pretend he was distanced from it, bloodbaths would still reflect his face when he bore down on murdered men.  
When the men in his regiment blistered and screamed and died, Xanthus knew that this was a new evil. 
The rifle shook in his hands. Pointed out into the graveyard of a clearing, Xanthus’ memories reminded him of just how futile the gun was. Not when the gas wiped them out. Not when it still lingered.
Xanthus’ teeth bit into his bottom lip, for a moment forgetting his fangs. 
Xanthus had survived the chlorine’s initial deployment, back in 1915. His healing worked wonders in keeping him alive, if incapacitated. The same happened with the new mustard gas. He hid the blistering well enough so as to not alert suspicions, and they dissipated within the day. Most everyone else had dropped like bullet shells. 
But this gas remained. Not just in the soldier’s bodies – it polluted all water and sunk into the dirt. The other faded, but this time, standing in the dug-out trench, the smell and chemicals never wafted away.
Even with each hollow breath he took, Xanthus could smell, could taste, the abomination. And even with his miraculous healing, it was a cancer. His eyes burned. Blisters he thought were gone popped up across his body in changing places. A cough clawed up his throat (he feared his lungs were regularly filling with fluid, then draining, then refilling – a vicious cycle which murdered the rest). 
He was nothing more than an animated corpse, and for the first time in these long centuries, he felt like it.
Xanthus’ rifle loosened in his hands. He scrunched his eyes and drew one hand up to massage his temples. Memories of medical bays fueled his mind. “The lucky one,” they all said. They weren’t all from the Great War. 
For a few more minutes, he stood, gun propped on the parapet. But marionettes could only dance around him for so long. A trickle of sweat ran from his forehead to jowl. 
He knew they were not coming. The silence echoed back. He did not trust it. 
When he jerked to the side, dangerously slinging the gun as well, he collapsed back into the trench.
A sight of mud turned to gray. The small enclave he used for nightwatch was nothing more than piled stones, but a respite nonetheless. 
Xanthus sat for a few moments, heaving. When his gun dropped and rattled to the floor, he grunted, and slammed his knuckles into the bricks. Hot pain instantly rushed from his shaking hands and he watched, in more agony than the impact, as the wounds healed over. Surfaced blood streaked, but dried in mere seconds. 
His breath was ragged. He shoved his fist into the stone, over and over again. 
This war was an assault on all senses, Xanthus thought as he brutalized himself. Sure, the smell and the taste and the sight, but by God, it was the hearing that came first. How ironic that now it was peaceful, now there was quietude, after the dread took its strongest. 
Where was it when Xanthus stood, more attuned than anyone, to the rattle of gunfire and men screaming? Rushing across no-man’s land left him able to hear out to the German trenches and everything between. He simply had to suffer it. And where was it when he laid at night, a being without need of sleep, but desperate for it so he could drown out the tanks and the roaring aviation? When he heard the few friends he made hearts stop pumping? 
Where was it when Xanthus turned his rifle on an ear, and shot the organ clean off? 
And where was it when it, after he blamed it on battle, regrew in four months?
Xanthus’ thrusts into the wall slowed, his hand going limp and running down the bricks, until it rested beside him. 
It didn’t matter. He could not get hurt, not in a meaningful way. He could already feel the wounds closing, the battery insignificant. 
He threw his head against the stone wall carelessly. 
The flesh stitched itself back together in the passing minutes. Meanwhile, Xanthus fueled his disquiet with memory. 
Lawrence had known war. But it was never this, never all-encompassing; there was, after all, a world beyond England and Scotland during the Second Bishop’s War. Xanthus, it seemed, did not – or at least, not the stratagem of modern warfare. He had followed the stepping stones, ignorant until they dropped, himself caught in the freefall. 
A cough ground up his throat, and bile rose with it. 
He had witnessed humanity’s descent – ascent? – into this madness. Hell, he was older than the country his fellow soldiers lauded as their savior. And yet he was here, with them. Suffering, dying in the great quiet, knived by the mental games their very species played. 
Because the gas was a game. Its purpose was the tricks, deployed with shells that broke into a giggling hiss. 
War could not kill Xanthus. But it could do everything else.
When his fist curled, the nails bent into his palm. Briefly, he panicked without the familiar weight of a gun. He snatched it off the ground and brought it to his chest.
He had never expected to truly be hurt, to be affected. But in their efforts to decimate each other, they managed to even wound immortality. A vampire reduced to human fears, because of humans, without the possible human release. 
In some small way, Xanthus felt human. Artificially – their misery, their desires, fitting for a finite life. He knew it was a false mirage. But still, he reached for his gun in comfort, as if his teeth weren’t markers of a much more vicious retribution. 
He hated it. 
He fucking hated it. 
Finally, he and his kind were welcomed back into ‘personhood’ – not because they were deemed more acceptable or humanity grew collective empathy, but because even humans stooped to their level: fodder. 
The vast silence was cut with bitter laughter. 
Subconsciously, Xanthus curled into himself as the laughter turned to coughing. He forced himself to swallow down the mucus. The rifle sat between his legs, pointed upwards, with his hands clenched to it. 
As his fit died down, he rested his forehead on the warm metal. 
And the silence was back, as deafening as ever. 
Except for the heartbeat. 
Xanthus didn’t move his head, but slit an eye open to watch the opposing side of the trench. The beat was coming from inside it – not an enemy – but there was no due for a guard switch. 
A man stumbled around the corner. His pulse was faint, barely a whisper – more powerful was the sound of liquid sloshing in his lungs. Sucker-like sores grew along his arms and chest. His wool coat was unbuttoned and rolled up to the elbows, and he wore no hat. 
He paid Xanthus no mind as he crept forward, walking like it was his first day out of the womb. With too hard of a sway, he collapsed against the wall opposite of Xanthus and sunk to the floor. His eyes remained, though bleary, attached to the sky. 
Closer, the rush of blood echoed. Xanthus’ tongue flicked across a fang. 
It had been so long. He’d staved off desiccating with enemy soldiers or, when in a ward, blood saved for transfusions. He hadn’t properly feeded since his conscription. As if answering his thoughts, the hunger struck, a well in his stomach. 
The man’s chest heaved, face still upwards. 
He would die anyway. 
Xanthus shifted off the firestep slowly so as to not start him. His movements drawled with a predator’s muscle-memory, though more ridge with the discipline of a soldier. 
He drew to the man. It was only when he towered over him, rubies starch in the darkness, that the man looked at him. 
“Hello,” he muttered. It would’ve been unintelligible to anyone else. 
What happened next was methodical. The vampire slid down to his level and applied weight to the others hands, constricting him. His knee buckled on the other’s leg. He leaned forward, and with a swift motion, released his arms (only now did he drop the gun), hands jerking to maneuver his neck as he bared fangs. They sank into the skin with ease. 
It was bitter, he instantly noticed. The blood pumped lazily, carrying with it the poison which seeped into his skin. Despite his own cyclical conditions, Xanthus pressed on, refusing to let his only meal waste away. 
Naturally, the man resisted. He was weak. His burned arms tried to push the vampire’s away, off his neck, though managed nary a scratch. His legs bobbed. His neck strained. Still, it was futile to Xanthus. 
The man continued to mutter to himself. Xanthus pressed on. 
Even as the blood replenished him, it was sickening – he was starved and drank like it, but it was a drunken haze brought on by spoiled wine. Xanthus doubted he’d ever willingly eat mustard again. 
Just as he was about to break for air, the man’s fingers threaded into Xanthus’ hair. For some odd reason, it eased him out of the spur, as his fangs gently retracted. Both of their breaths heaved off-sync. Xanthus was still so close, the heat he expelled onto the man ricocheted back to him. 
The vampire tilted his head slightly, glancing up through mangey threads of hair. Playing on the man’s face, in the depths of night, was the hint of a smile.
His lips still moved, though silently now; Xanthus still recognized their shape. A common soldier’s prayer, said by those dying or over the beds of those who were. 
He didn’t understand it, not until the man looked down at him. With a bleeding neck and a shattered voice, he made a sound below silence, the illusion of words more than anything – “Thank you, sweet angel.”
His fingers stayed soft in his hair. 
“You have come to save me. I am welcomed into His kingdom.” A wiry grin now broke across his face, peeling the skin taut. He was missing a front tooth.
He thought Xanthus was saving him. That he was an angel, ready to take him to Heaven. To his God. Away from hell on earth. 
For a heartbeat, Xanthus could not move. He suddenly felt carved out, nothing but bones and skin. 
There were memories of another dying soldier-boy, the wound-up toy which had marched itself right into the tinderbox. For glory. For God. 
And he remembered his death. Another soul believing they were being saved, only to be taken advantage of by a vampire. 
And it was that thought which frightened him the most. 
If you could believe it, the soldier’s heartbeat slowed even more. Yet in his eyes, the dullness now shone without dust – not reflecting the monotonous shattering of a psyche, but heavy with the need of sleep. He was so close to it. 
Xanthus could become Audric. To ‘save’ as many as he could from this war, only to force them into a future more brutal than anyone could dream. 
So instead, Xanthus gave him what he wanted – what they both wanted. He could not tell which side of him it belonged to, if there was anything truly mortal or supernatural about mercy. 
A soft lullaby drifted from his lips, a soothing command. And the man closed his eyes and mouth, relaxing into Xanthus, like a child in his mothers arms.
The blood stayed warm, even as a body turned to a corpse. And Xanthus, who could do nothing but remain, drank. 
43 notes · View notes
sonnenstola · 3 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
okay so i’m almost done with another rewatch of the series and,,, man, if i wasn’t canon divergent before, i sure am now !! 
1 note · View note
getoswhore · 2 years ago
Note
Stoner! Geto 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
☰ ft : stoner! getō x f! reader
cw/tw : pwp + usage of weed, riding, semi-public sex, praising, hotboxing, talk of marriage and body worshiping ‘cause he gets all sappy when he's high :p
Tumblr media
red-rimmed eyes try hard to lock into yours–to watch your pretty self but the heavy hoods blinking down fail him...
“fuck–fuck... fuck...” getō groans, head lazily craning off to the side and resting himself against the seat's headrest as you grind your hips harder against his, knees buckling down with untamed intent; lazy and unfocused, too caught up on the buzz you suck in with smoke to follow, even basking in the thick air that fogs the windows of his car.
“baby–fuck–feel so good, so perfect–wanna just marry you.” his words falter out like the smoke you puff out. the sputter of rushed and jumbled sentences makes you chuckle out and roll your dried eyes off to the side.
it's cute when suguru gets like this, hearing how his thoughts he's always held back and crammed them into the back of his mind now spilling from between his lips with urgency... even his hands are more playful than usual, splaying all ten lithe fingers up and down your sides, squeezing and groping, pinching and slapping.
“you're too cute, suguru.” you huff out, feeling the crown of his cock kiss deep inside your cunt as you settled against him restlessly.
“i know baby, but you are so perfect–your body and face, all of you, even your fucking little pussy, i swear.” his wandering hand plays over your tummy as the other drags the thick joint to his lips; feeling the silver-plated rings chill against the soft of your skin before feeling him drag a gentle thumb against your feeble puffy clit.
“i love you too, sugu.”
Tumblr media
418 notes · View notes
spiriteddreams · 3 years ago
Text
there's a roaring silence between you and suna rintarou. it stretches to every corner of the open air, two figures standing in the middle of a sidewalk, just outside the corner izakaya you used to frequent in high school. he's the same, only taller, more built, hair still falling in front of his face. the twins are nowhere to be seen, even if you heard them not even five minutes ago, arguing about a new flavour of onigiri that osamu was going to try. the silence feels odd, a brush of loneliness that extends its hands to the two of you, after all, what are you supposed to say to the one who broke your heart?
"you're back"
you both speak at the same time, immediately followed by apologies and rushed hand movements. it's the awkwardness that comes with seeing your ex for the first time in years. there's unspoken words, secrets locked behind your lips, unresolved feelings that come with seeing suna rintarou again. after all, first loves are hard to forget.
"you look good, better. 'samu sent me the highlights of your most recent game!" you offer him a smile, giving him a quick look up and down, unsure of how to approach this. your words feel a bit jumbled and messy, not quite right as you speak but still as an attempt to bridge the gap between the two of you.
suna grins, that same lazy one where his eyes seem to pierce into you while his lips curl up. it's a genuine smile, you know what it looks like, having seen it directed towards you over and over during your time at inarizaki high.
"keeping up with me, huh?" his words set off the spark and suddenly the two of you fall back into conversation as if nothing had ever happened between the two of you. it feels easy, to speak with him and laugh about old memories. talking outside the izakaya leads to suna inviting you to grab dessert with him at the little bakery across the street and as you both dig into fluffy cakes, you feel that tension melting away, leaving just you and suna.
"i have the day off tomorrow." he clears his throat outside the bakery, hands clasped in front of him and a hopeful look in his eyes, "would you like to catch up?"
Tumblr media
comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! <3 A/N: was gonna make this sad but it's friday night i decided i don't have time to be sad >:)
274 notes · View notes
gabzlovesu · 3 years ago
Text
LAZY MORNINGS
Tumblr media
giyuu x reader
warnings: morning sex, clit pinching, creampie cuz yeah why not?
a/n: i'm really burnt out but this was at least something? i'm sorry that i'm ending this event with mediocre content :(
✧ WEEK OF SINS EVENT MASTERLIST ✧ ╰ You can find all of the event information and other works here once they have been posted!
Tumblr media
Waking up horny is a different kind of unbearable pain – at least for you. It usually ends in three ways: you give up and suffer in silence, you silently pleasure yourself while Giyuu is fast asleep next to you, or you patiently wait for him to wake up and help you.
Fuck it. You didn’t feel like choosing one of these options today.
‘All he needs is a little nudge’ is what you think to yourself as you scoot over and grind your ass against his crotch. He must’ve been awake because not even a second later his hand stops your hips.
“Go back to sleep.”
“I can’t. Pleaseeee.”
“No Y/N, I’m trying to rest.”
This man was always resting. He never did anything, and every single bone in his body was lazy. Maybe there’s another way you could convince him. The hand holding your hips still is guided into your panties that could hardly stop the juices leaking from your cunt. “Are you really gonna let me suffer like this, Giyuu?”
You can hear him stifle a groan as he chokes out his answer, “Yes…”
“Fine, I’ll just do it myself.” You coat his fingers in your slick and draw abstract shapes on your clit. The pressure from both of your hands is a pleasant feeling that you weren’t expecting. You can’t help but roll your hips in sync with his fingers, causing him to curse under his breath.
“Y/N, if I fuck you it’s not gonna be the way that you want.” You were fine with that, you just needed him to help you untie that jumbled knot in your core and that’s all that mattered right now. Instead of responding, you just keep going, hoping he’ll get the hint.
“Alright, I don’t wanna hear you begging later.” Giyuu tosses the covers back, the cold air nipping at your skin and making your nipples harden instantly. “You’re so needy and impatient, but I guess I’ll just have to fix that.” He shoos your hand away, insisting that he continues without your help.
Since you wanted to rush him, he would take his time rubbing light, painstakingly-slow circles on your clit. For every ten seconds that passed, he seemed to have complete only one rotation and it was driving you insane. “Giyuu –
“The answer is no. And I told you I didn’t want to hear you beg.” The delicate strokes are replaced by the sudden pinching of your sensitive bud. Only when a rush of ‘i’m sorry’s fell from your lips did he let go, chuckling softly in amusement.
He pulls your panties off, and you can feel the wet material slide down your leg and leave goosebumps in it’s wake. Giyuu prompts himself up on his elbow and hoists your leg to allow access. That’s pretty much all the work he intends on doing right now.
Even though he’s fucking you from the side, he still hits your sweet spot at the right angle and he can see how your breasts jiggle with each thrust. If only he could see that pretty face of yours, but hearing your soft moans, going an octave higher the more he rams into you, is enough to satisfy him. And there was the fact that your neck was exposed for him to kiss to his heart’s content.
He was a little sad that he couldn’t fuck you in all the different ways that he normally could or paint your face white like he wanted, but emptying his load into your tight cunt kept the mess to a minimum, which meant less work for him. Lazy sex wasn’t so bad in his eyes…
WANT TO JOIN MY TAGLIST? CLICK HERE! taglist:@angwritez @misss-chrisss @hungrynessforfics @dejwrites @rinhoes @iloveitblackbhna @protectpancakes @fight-me-bitch @nneedynymph @indiecursor @po3ticb3auty @nanaminshousewife @rxxicole @gemimaya @thenerdyrebel @luffysthickwaifu @svlims @4ngrysgf @daichisbunnybaby @urwifey2 @picayunne @kurtaclangobrr @kookieflvr @woahhajime @novaresque @syomi @chrolloderulo @vivisspamm @dabilovesme @erentoes @kutosznn @queenmjp @sweeneyblue1 @tyga-lily @jeanslove @getoswhore @thicksimpx @cosmicyeager @sakurashell @38riku @tonaken @korathefairy @waytoohornez @muzanskimono @wiserebelpartypie @hellavile @g0revixen @yeagertv
297 notes · View notes
seriouslysnape · 4 years ago
Text
Perfect Resolution
Harry Potter x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Smut. Language. 
Word Count: 1,641
“Good. You deserved that after today.”
Tumblr media
“Even when you’re being stubborn, you’re still my pretty girl.” Harry huffed out, his voice strained when you slammed back down onto his lap in a particularly rough way, the tip of his cock pounding at your g-spot.
Your brain was mush at this point. Every thought that crossed your mind was occupied by either Harry or your goal to achieve the orgasm that he was helping you towards. Harry looked so good right now. His hair was unruly and ruffled in every direction from where your hands had untidied it from being wrapped in it. You leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to his famous scar without ever breaking the rhythm of your hips.
You had been rather difficult today. It hadn’t been your best day, and everything had seemingly gone wrong since the moment you had gotten up that morning. You had been sour with him all day, brushing him off and barking at him for the most innocent intentions. He had been trying to get through to you all day, trying to make you feel better. But even Harry, who was the most patient person you knew, would crack eventually. The last straw was drawn when you had blown up at him for attempting to help you study for your Transfiguration exam that you were totally screwed for.
“I don’t need your fucking help, Harry!” You had basically screamed at him, causing him to recoil completely. 
He had been standing next to where you were sitting at your desk, rubbing your back soothingly and pointing out things in your notes when you got stuck on something. He hadn’t expected you to respond so harshly to him just trying to help, and honestly he had enough with your attitude for one day.
Without another word, he had yanked you up from your chair, sitting in it himself and pulling you onto his lap. He murmured something about “fucking the attitude right out of you”; something that he didn’t do very often. He had pushed you over the edge the first time with just his fingers, pumping and curling his fingers until you were writhing around his hand. Now he was repeatedly being buried deep inside of you each time you crashed back down onto him.
Even though he was aggravated with you, he knew that you had just been frustrated all day. He wanted you to feel better, because he could never stay mad at you. Still, he hadn’t quite worked through all the irritation.
“You take my cock so well, don’t you?” He practically groaned out, “Just like you took my fingers just a few minutes ago...you’re my good girl, aren’t you?”
You hadn’t said anything in a while, your thoughts too preoccupied to form any kind of coherent response to what he was saying to you. Your eyes were screwed shut, so tightly that you were seeing inky blotches behind your eyelids. Your head was tilted upwards to the ceiling as you focused on the way he was stretching and filling your slick walls so perfectly. He was meeting your bounces with his upward thrusts, hitting every sensitive spot that had melted you into a whimpering puddle.
It wasn’t until his hand gripped your chin to force you to look at him that your eyes opened and you snapped out of your trance.
“Are you not going to answer me?” He asked gruffly when you didn’t give any kind of reply.
Your head fluttered as your dilated pupils met his lust blown ones. You were breathless as you spoke, your chest heaving with each rapid inhale of oxygen that you took. 
“Sorry, Harry. What’d you say?” You asked him to repeat, your own voice echoing in your ears.
Instead, Harry shot up from the chair without removing his throbbing cock out of you. Your wobbly legs were pitiful as he brought you to your feet, pressing the front of your hips into the desk and pulling your back against his front. 
“Since you can’t get it together, I guess I’m going to have to fuck you into your desk.” He growled, pushing your skirt up and chuckling lowly in your ear at the reminder that his favorite pair of your lace knickers had been discarded long ago. 
The wooden material of your desk dug into your skin, but you were too focused on the delicious feeling of Harry fucking in and out of you to even notice. Your palms gripped the edge of the desk, your eyes raking over the countless parchments of Transfiguration notes in front of you. The words were blurred jumbles of letters, and you couldn’t comprehend what any of it said to save your life right now.
Harry was fucking you hard and fast, pulling out almost completely each time before railing back into you. He kept one hand on your waist to keep you from straying away from him, since sometimes you tended to squirm. His other hand cupped one of your breasts, playing with the stimulated nipple. Your orgasm was heating up and pooling in your belly, your desperation becoming more and more clear.
“Harry.” You croaked out, your voice light and airy.
“What, angel?” He acknowledged with a grin, knowing you were beginning to beg.
“Please...” You whined, your knees trembling more with each passing second.
He laughed again in your ear as he slammed in again past your sopping folds, your arousal had drenched his cock and was dripping down your thighs.
“What do you want, baby? You’ve got to tell me if you want something.” He sneered with the knowledge that he had you at his mercy.
You swallowed hard, your brain even foggier than before as you replied without much hesitation.
“I wanna cum.” You admitted, crying out immediately after a particularly perfect thrust from him.
“Do you? Only good girls get to cum,” He pointed out, his voice muffled from his mouth sucking on your neck, “You’ve been bad all day. I don’t know if you deserve it.”
The desire and the need to finish was exploding all through you. This was the best you had felt all day and if you didn’t get your release, you were sure you’d be a mess before the night was over. 
“No, no, no. Please, Harry. I didn’t mean to- fuck! I just wanna cum so I can feel better...” You pleaded.
Harry was a real softie at heart, and he rarely could stand the sound of you so needy and broken down. Maybe if you had really pissed him off, he might hold off on letting you cum, but right now he felt too bad to leave you like this.
“Okay, love, okay. Just because you’ve had such a rough day, I’m gonna let you finish,” He said, his words beginning to slur together, “But the next time you get snappy with me, I might not be so nice.” He rumbled.
A moan of satisfaction and bliss bubbled out of your throat as he continued to wonderfully fuck you the way only he knew how to. The band of ecstasy was stretching and stretching in your gut, and it was only a matter of a few more immaculately pounds into you that it would snap. His cock twitched deep inside of you somewhere, signaling that he was about to burst as well. 
When he felt you clench around him, he splayed his hand across your chest and pulled you completely back and flush against him as you came on his cock, his own release spilling into you. The sound of his moan as he finished sent waves of thrill through you as he held you close as you fell from your climax. The rushes of electricity and lust fizzled away slowly the further you both trailed from your finishes. The only sounds were your matched heavy breathing and occasional sigh of content.
Harry dragged his now softened cock out of you, his tip leaving last with a wet sounding pop. Your core and legs were shaking violently as he spun you around, holding you up by your arms to keep you from collapsing on him.
“You alright, lovely?” He questioned once he felt stable enough to speak.
“Mmhm,” You mumbled, “I’m perfect.”
“Good. You deserved that after today.” He responded, referring to how a good loving making session was all you needed.
You didn’t quite catch the intention of his words, and your expression changed into a guilty one.
“Oh, Harry, I’m sorry I was so mean today. It wasn’t your fault.” You apologized, kissing just above his right pectoral muscle.
He kept you held up with one arm, using his free hand to brush your messy hair from your face. He kissed the tip of your nose, then pressing another lazy kiss to your lips.
“I know, sweet girl. It’s okay,” He said warmly, “I meant that you deserved to feel good after you’ve had such a bad day.”
He whisked you away to your bed, snuggling up with you to give you a break from both studying and fucking. He littered you with kisses, aiding in getting rid of the remnants of your bad mood. He whispered sweet nothings in your ear and kissed all the places that made you smile or giggle happily.
Today reminded you of one of the many reasons you loved your beloved Harry. He was patient when you were being difficult. He was understanding when you were struggling. He was there for you when you needed him to be. He made your heart swell and your stomach flutter every time. 
He was the perfect resolution every time things got hard.
“Thanks for making me feel better. In more ways than one.” You said appreciatively with a small laugh. 
Harry grinned proudly, leaving another kiss on your forehead.
“Anytime, my love.”
1K notes · View notes
mayasdeluca · 3 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
This is my problem with the way they’re writing Maya & Carina’s storyline lately. Is it the writers completely forgetting what they’re writing and being inconsistent or just writing drama for the sake of drama? Either way, it’s completely frustrating. For Carina to say that she feels second to Maya’s job when Maya has actually proved on several occasions she now has someone she loves and is a priority to her is just bad writing. I’ve seen several people voice their thoughts about this, some on Maya’s side and some on Carina’s and honestly I understand both. But ultimately the writing for both of them is horrendous in this situation. For Maya to be all about her job no questions asked, yes, she’s always been career oriented but it’s very Season 1 Maya like to just think about her job, block everything and everyone else out. That's been the beauty of Maya Bishop's character development over the seasons. She has never been in love in such a way that she suddenly had other priorities and plans, such as Carina and their vision to start a family. And now she does. Which leads me to...why can’t this woman have both? Why can’t she be so career driven that she’ll do anything to get her captaincy back while also doing everything she can to start a family with the woman she loves?
Instead of making the drama a competition of which Maya loves more, why can’t the writers make the drama within both of the actual storylines. Why can’t Maya come home after a frustrating day at work being ignored by the chief and cuddle up with her wife and continue discussing baby plans, something she had told Carina she was now all in for. And then if they want to have drama with the baby storyline, whether it be it’s hard for Carina to get pregnant or they struggle to figure out a donor situation, then Maya has work to be where she can just focus on her job and doing her best to get her captaincy back. It shouldn’t all be jumbled together, it shouldn’t all be discussed at the most inconvenient times to make either Maya or Carina look bad, just do both storylines at the same time where they can both exist at once! 
And I get that they want to make it even more dramatic by having Carina voice her frustrations to Jack (or anyone but Maya) but really, can we actually have a couple on this show talk through their arguments? It’s such a lazy disservice that this show does with all their couples. We see it briefly with Marina on occasion but not enough. It’s one thing for these characters to get advice from their friends/co-workers but then we never actually see the conversation between the couple that is absolutely needed. It’s either rushed, interrupted, or off screen. This has to change. 
133 notes · View notes
ilikemesometaetaes · 4 years ago
Text
Good Day (M)
Jeon Jungkook Oneshot
Tumblr media
•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes​
•••> Summary: His motive was made quite clear once he called you out of work. He just wanted to spend a nice day with his girlfriend. Is that too much to ask for?
•••> Pairing(s): Jungkook/Reader
•••> Requested by Anon: “Can I request a Jungkook oneshot(established relationship) where they just want to spend the day just getting drunk on wine and having sex on the couch? Y/N could be dressed in just his shirt and Jungkook in just his sweatpants”
•••> Word Count: 6.15k [Unedited]
•••> Rating: 18+
•••> Tags: smut | Established Relationship | Jungkook!au | Boyfriend!Jungkook | Lazy Day/Sex | Wine Drunk
•••> Warnings: smut, slight bloating!kink (but there isn’t actually any bloating), unprotected sex, dirty talk, kookie is a horny little fuck, he literally just wants to bone, all day, he’s also a drunken idiot sometimes, cursing, alcohol use, shower stimulation, showerheads can be a girl’s best friend, drunk sex, lazy sex
Copyright © 2021 ilikemesometaetaes. All Rights Reserved.
Thank you for the request, anon! It took ages to complete and I’m so sorry! I hope you enjoy it :)
~#~
Arms tightened around your waist as you woke. The embrace was slightly suffocating.
“Baby,” You wheezed through your unused vocal cords. The grip only tightened and constricted your lungs, serving for a rude awakening. “Kook.”
“Murph.” Hot breath on your neck after a groan of exhaustion was a welcome feeling- comforting despite the uncomfortable position you were in. You smiled despite your lack of ability to move and looked down to see his tattooed arm overlapping the bare one over your ribs.
“I can’t-“ You were cut off as he tightened his grip with a slight whimper of distress.
Immediately plagued with concern, you grabbed his arms and wrestled them from your body so that you could turn to face him from within his encircled limbs. You only got more worried when you noticed his obvious stress-ridden eyebrows, arched up with eyelids fluttering rapidly. His lower lip was trembling as he quietly began muttering ‘no’ repeatedly.
“Jungkook.” You gently placed your hand on his bare shoulder and shook him. His fingers dug into your ribs painfully, warranting a more stern call of his name. “Jungkook!”
“No!” He yelled while sitting up abruptly and heaving for breath. You were thrown from his clutches and rocked on the bed from the movement. Despite the disturbance, you sat up with him and reached for his back to rub it soothingly.
“Baby,” You cooed, quick to reassure him with gentle touches. “I’m here. We’re here. You’re okay.”
Following your statements and ministrations on his back, his breathing gradually slowed with a few sputtering gasps and an audible gulp. Once you gauged his level of calm, you broke the silence.
“What happened?” You asked, tilting your head and leaning forward to get a better look at his face past his long hair. His eyes were shut tight with eyelids wrinkled at the corners while he inhaled slowly through flaring nostrils.
Your boyfriend opened his eyes after a moment, blinking a few times in the process, before turning his head to set you in his line of sight.
“They were taking my dad away.” He wavered. “But he’d already completed his time.”
You knew better- Jungkook’s father was safe in the comfort of his own home in Busan, already having served the mandatory enlistment for his home country- but you also knew that you needed to reassure your boyfriend so that he could relax his tensed shoulders.
“Do you want me to give him a call?” You asked. “I’m sure he’d appreciate hearing from us and it’s not too late in the evening over there.”
“No, it’s okay.” Jungkook said, letting the tremors fade from his body as he let reality sink into him. “He should get his rest. I’ll call him this evening.”
“Alright, Kook. Sounds good.” You gave him one more pat before looking at the clock. Your alarm would go off in eight minutes. “Shit. Might as well start getting ready now.”
“You do have work today.” Jungkook said the words as a statement, as if confirming prior thoughts.
“Yes,” You chuckled, smiling lightly and leaning in to kiss his cheek before getting out of the bed. “I do.”
A soft whine escaped his throat as he quickly grabbed onto your fingers. “Nooo… Don’t goooo…”
“I have to, baby.” You lightly tugged your fingers from his grasp to make your way towards the bathroom. Shuffling sheets from behind you signaled that Jungkook had also gotten out of the bed.
As you turned the shower handle and began taking off your clothes to shower, you heard him creep in behind you with light footsteps padding across the wooden floor.
“Don’t even think about it.” You giggled while he crowded his body against the back of your almost-bare one, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his ever-present morning wood against your skin. “I can’t be held up.”
“Then call out.” He whispered into your ear, to which you pulled away and turned around so that you could raise an eyebrow at him. Did he really just tell you to call out of work just so the two of you could bone?
His eyes were dark and playful as if challenging you while you stared up into his gaze defiantly. You scoffed in disbelief. “Jungkook, I can’t.”
“Why not?” He jutted his lower lip out into a pout. Fuck. You internally scowled at his tactics, hating the way your heart began trying to convince your brain to consider calling out.
Before you could crumble under the pressure of his ways, you huffed out a response. “Because I can’t, babe.” You slid your panties off and opened the shower door to step inside.
“-And don’t even think of coming in here. I can’t afford to be late.” You added the last part as you closed the glass door behind you, knowing his next strategy would be to tempt you with his naked body- a strategy you would surely lose to.
Jungkook groaned, pressing himself against the door with one arm bracing his weight against the distorted surface while you wet your hair. You watched in amusement as he slowly began accepting his defeat.
“But you work all the time.” He whined again, causing you to smugly and mockingly pout in response.
“So that I can make money.” You jokingly copied his tone and continued with your shower before he backed away from the glass in silence and stepped towards the sink. You watched as his shapeless body moved, deducting that he was going to brush his teeth as he reached into the drawer where you kept the toothpaste. Once he placed the toothbrush into his mouth and began brushing, you smiled, shook your head, and continued to shower.
“Y’know,” His words were jumbled as the toothbrush obstructed his speech. “You gon’ make me act up.”
“Act up?” You asked while laughing. “How are you going to act up?”
Jungkook leaned over the sink and spit, leaving a break of silence to drag your curiosity further. Once he rinsed his mouth, he turned to look at you again despite being unable to see you clearly. He sighed dramatically.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, babe.” He quipped before exiting the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.
You only scoffed at him again, rolling your eyes and hurrying with your shower to stay on schedule.
~#~
Fresh-faced and ready for work, you grabbed your purse and walked out of your bedroom to make your way towards the front door. The sound of something scraping against a pan while the oven fan hummed lowly tipped off that Jungkook was in the kitchen.
“Jungkook?” You called for him as you were about to round the corner. “Do you know where my phone is?”
The sight you walked in on was one of dreams.
Your boyfriend stood in front of the stove, cooking eggs and bacon, in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Muscular back on full display, you let your eyes slowly trail all the way down the cut definition around his shoulders to the dimples stamped into the flesh of his lower back. The adorable crevices were graciously uncovered because of how low his pants hung on his hips.
“It’s on the counter.” He haphazardly gestured to the kitchen island with the spatula he was holding. You had to gulp down the saliva that collected in your mouth and blink a few times to snap yourself out of your haze so that you could grab your phone and leave.
“Thanks, baby.” You rushed up to the counter, grabbed your phone to drop it into your bag, turned to kiss Jungkook on the cheek, and quickly began to leave. “I’ll see you later. Love you!”
“Oh, by the way,” Jungkook started. You stopped in front of the door to put your heels on. “Your boss called.”
“She did?” You reached into your purse and fumbled around for your phone. “What did she say?”
“She said she hopes you feel better soon.”
“What?” You froze, unable to understand, and looked up at Jungkook who had already set the food on two plates. “Why?”
“Because you’re bedridden right now. Your head hurts oh, so bad and you have a runny nose with a fever of one-hundred and one degrees.” He pouted and looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eye despite wearing a somber expression on his face.
Realization set in all at once.
He. Did. Not.
“Jungkook,” You started, slightly upset. “I swear to god, if you did what I think you di-“
“A sick person shouldn’t be all dressed in heels and a pant suit. Why don’t you go change into something more comfortable and then come eat so we can get some food in your belly?”
You spluttered incredulously to a halt as he spoke, shocked by his drastic measures to keep you home. He lied to your boss and called out of work for you.
“What- exactly- did she say?” You gritted out.
Jungkook grabbed the two plates and walked to the kitchen table with a seemingly unbothered demeanor, placing them down carefully.
“She just said that you had it coming. You work too much for your own good and now you’re sick because of it.” He sauntered over to the fridge as you eyed him critically, glaring daggers into the back of his head while he spoke. “I agree with her, to be honest. You don’t look so good. All that working took a toll on you- do you want orange juice? Or water? Or some iced coffee?”
The oblivious facade only irritated you further, warranting you to kick off your heels, drop your purse, and stomp over to him. Grabbing him by the shoulder, you spun him around angrily, only to see a smug smirk plastered across his lips.
“I’ll take that as you wanting iced coffee. You were always a grump without some caffeine.” He grinned.
“Jeon Jungkook.” You hissed, glowering at him with increasing intensity. “What the hell did you call me out for?”
“I called you out-“ He started with a smirk, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and spinning you around quickly to press you against the fridge. His face morphed into a stern expression quickly. You never broke eye contact with him, intransigence unwavering under his pressure.
“- so that we can crack open those bottles of wine we hoard and I can fuck you open on the couch over and over again while we pretend to pay attention to a movie playing on the TV.”
Your anger dissipated instantaneously, brain functioning coming to a halt as his words sunk into your skin.
Well… shit. What’s your name again?
“Do you understand now?” Jungkook asked, leaning down far enough that his hair brushed against your forehead and his mint-scented breath tickled your nose and top lip.
“Y-yeah.” You stuttered.
“Good. Now, go change.” He grinned, backing away from you and reaching into the fridge to grab the orange juice and the iced coffee. You followed his command like a robot, excitement building in you so fast that you had no way to process the fact that you were livid with him moments ago.
It wasn’t long before you were bare-faced and clad in one of Jungkook’s shirts that you picked up from the bed. His scent filled the shirt, shampoo and body soap mixed with a slight edge of his natural musk. It was almost dizzying in your current state of arousal.
The heat between your legs distracted you throughout your breakfast as you sat at your small kitchen table across from Jungkook, but falling into a conversation with him came naturally. Your boyfriend lying to your boss about your sickness went easily forgotten as you began to enjoy the day off.
Before long, your plate was empty and all that remained in your glass of iced coffee was a few melting ice cubes. Looking over to Jungkook’s side of the table, you noticed that his dishes were also cleared of food.
“I’ll clean the dishes.” You said, getting up with your silverware, glass, and plate in hand.
“I won’t fight you on that.” He chuckled, getting up from his chair and grabbing his things too. “I’ll pour us some wine.”
“Sounds like a plan.” You affirmed.
As you set the now-clean items on the drying rack, you turned to find Jungkook leaning against the kitchen island with two wine glasses in one hand and a bottle of some nameless wine that someone had gifted to Jungkook not too long ago in the other while he grinned at you.
“Couch?” He asked.
“Couch.” You nodded, nerves building in you once again at the mention of the location.
You were just about to finish your second glass when you noticed Jungkook reaching for the bottle to pour himself the last bits of wine left inside.
“Nooo.” You whined, causing him to turn and face you in the process of pouring the remaining alcohol into his own glass. “I wanted it.”
“Nuh-uh.” He playfully turned his body away from you so that you couldn’t reach for the wine as he poured it. “This was my idea, so I get to have three cups. We can open another bottle anyway. We have a shit load.”
“But this one tastes yummy.” You complained, grabbing onto his shoulder to lightly urge him to face you.
He looked into your pleading eyes for a few moments with his lips pressed into a tight line before he huffed.
“Fine! But on one condition.” He set the bottle down on the table.
You raised your eyebrow at him expectantly. “What is the condition?”
“I’ll pour you this last glass if you join me in the shower when you’re finished with it.”
The shower? Oh boy. “I already took a shower, Kook.”
“So?” He smirked. “That doesn’t mean anything. I want you in the shower if I give you this last glass.”
Slightly warm and agreeable from the delicious wine, you gave in with a grumble. “Fine. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Sweet.” Jungkook gestured for you to offer your glass so that he could fill it. Once he did, he brought the empty wine bottle to the kitchen and dropped it into the recycling bin, only to turn around and meet your following eyes as he stalked towards your bedroom with a devious smile on his lips. “See you in a few.”
You watched with slightly parted lips as he turned back around while beginning to hum an aimless tune to skip the rest of the way, giving you whiplash with how quickly he could turn from a man that made you lustfully feral to a boy that made you want to joyfully frolic through a meadow.
Determined to remain true to your word, you sipped your wine quickly. He wanted to be joined in the shower? So be it. It wasn’t long before your glass was empty once again.
Three glasses of wine and adrenaline pumping the alcohol quickly through your veins were the factors that caused you to feel a slight head rush and a bit loopy once you stood from the couch. Giggling softly at your condition, you left your empty glass next to his and headed in the direction of your bedroom.
Distantly, you heard smooth notes of a familiar song drifting from the bathroom. Jungkook loved to sing in the shower and you loved to listen to it. The sound of the water running only made taking a shower with him more inviting as you approached the closed bathroom door.
Sneaking in quietly, you shed your clothes once again, hoping to take him by surprise. Your plan only resulted in failure when Jungkook slid the door open to beckon you inside when you were in the middle of taking off your boyfriend’s shirt.
“C’mon, babe. We haven’t got all morning.” He smiled, wet hair mussed and pressed to his forehead.
“We don’t?” You laugh as you step inside so that he could close the door behind you. Immediately, you were encased in the tight, warm, and humid space. “I’m pretty sure that you made it so that we do.”
Swiftly, Jungkook wrapped his arm around your waist and spun you around to meet the steady stream of water. Crowding your back with his chest, Jungkook pressed his face up against the back of your neck.
“I know, babe, but I have a few plans now that you’re off.”
“Plans, you say?” You giggled and craned your head down to get his wandering nose away from your neck. He knew that you were ticklish and loved to attack the spot when he got playful.
“Yes ma’am.”
After a moment of standing in the shower, the telltale signs of your situation becoming hot and steamy made themselves prominent in the form of Jungkook’s semi-hard erection brushing your skin and the subtle notes of a growl tainting the edge of his exhales.
“You alright there, baby?” You teased.
“Mhm.” He hummed, detaching a hand from your body to reach for the showerhead. “Just wanna rinse you really quick.”
“Be my guest.” You let your head fall back to rest on his shoulder and closed your eyes, heart slightly picking up its pace at the elevating tension. For a moment, both of Jungkook’s arms left you to change the setting on the water pressure and you felt the steady stream turn harsh right below your collarbones.
You hummed in appreciation while he returned one of his arms around your waist and began running the water over your shoulders and arms with the other. Gradually, he began massaging you with it.
It wasn’t long before Jungkook’s true intentions came to the surface; slowly, the point of the pressure moved south from your shoulders to your breasts. You felt the showerhead point the stream closer and closer to your nipples, causing your eyelids to flutter open and look at the man delivering the sensations to your body.
You gasped softly as the water covered your left nipple and Jungkook tore his gaze from your chest to meet your eyes once you did. What greeted you in his irises was pure, prominent desire.
“Kookie.” You whispered, lips brushing his as your body became electrified like a live wire.
“Say the word, baby.” He crooned softly, encouraging. The pressure on your nipples only left you with your lips slightly parted and taking sharp inhales with a whine teasing your throat. Jungkook only continued to push you along, desperate to hear. “That’s it, baby. Say it.”
You whimpered, barely able to get it out. “Please.”
“As you wish, my love.”
And then he made the showerhead descend further down.
Your toes curled against the floor in anticipation that was fueled by how slow he moved. Your stomach vibrated while the water migrated down your expanse of skin to the place you wanted it most.
As the water touched the top of your mound, you reached up and curled an arm around Jungkook’s neck to prepare for the onslaught.
Your moan was unexpected; the force of the water shocked you into submission instantly.
Jungkook’s grip on you tightened soon after, followed by the low, comforting ‘sh’ that slid through his teeth when your body curled inwards.
The water pressure, turned high, forced its way past your pussy lips with no trouble at all. In its trajectory, your clit was battered as the only thing in the showerhead’s path. The intense amount of stimulation had you approaching an orgasm faster than you could count to three.
“Jungkook,” You whined at a high pitch, unused to the most adamant sensation of pleasure you’d felt in a while.
“You’re okay, baby. Just breathe. It’s alright.” Your boyfriend’s voice in your ear came out as a soothing coo, yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to breathe correctly when he was holding the showerhead so close to your bundle of nerves and tightening his grip around your waist to prevent you from escaping.
“I-I-“ You breathed so fast, it almost felt like you were hyperventilating. Your clit, taking the entirety of the assault by the water, throbbed wildly and spasmed as if attempting to get out from under the force.
Almost on instinct, you raised a leg to allow the water more access the the entirety of your pussy, hoping that your orgasm would crest upon you before you lost your mind, and braced your raised foot against Jungkook’s knee. You hoped that taking the attention off your clit would help balance out how boggled your mind was, but all it did was drive you crazy when you felt the pressure beginning to spread your folds apart to push inside.
“Oh, no. Now I can’t let that happen.” Jungkook spoke as if he were speaking to a child in disdain, repeating the word ‘no’ a few more times with his bottom lip jutted into a pout.
He moved the showerhead back up to solely torture your clit, warranting you to cry out and tighten your arm around the back of his neck while you squeezed your eyes shut. His voice turned into a growl. “I’m the only one who gets to be inside you.”
“No!” You groaned in frustration, jerking your hips in response to the stream returning to your most sensitive area. “Nononono baby, please.”
“It’s unhealthy for you, baby. I can’t put water up there. So just be a good girl and take it here.”
Jungkook seemed to punctuate his statement with a light twist of his wrist to circle your clit with the showerhead. Your legs shook from the strain of spreading them so hard and trembled from the new burst of stimulation.
It only took another few moments for your body to begin curling in on itself again.
“K-kook.” Your teeth chattered as you mumbled his name, eyes rolling back into your head.
Jungkook braced his back against the wall before squeezing your waist to lift your body against his chest. You had half the mind to help him, supporting some of your weight on his neck so that you could wrap your other leg around his to spread your thighs even further.
“You gonna cum?” His breathing was harsh in your ear as he watched your body.
Your response came out as a whimper of affirmation, unsure of how to speak with the vibrations of the water shooting up your spine and back down to your curling toes.
Jungkook’s erection throbbed against your back while you let out sounds that were a mixture of huffs for breath and moans of pleasure. At this point, though, you couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything but making sure you orgasmed in the next five seconds.
You knew you were going to cum when you felt the tingling sensation spread like wildfire from your battered nub. It bloomed in your lower belly and seared every muscle in its path throughout your body, causing all of the sinew and tendons to tighten in response. As the orgasm ripped through you, your body became rigid with a few jerks of sensitivity.
Your eyes rolled back and you pressed your forehead against the side of Jungkook’s neck with the need to be as close to him as possible during your orgasm. Your ecstasy seared through you and overtook your body to act on its own accord. Far beyond the darkness of your eyelids, you reveled in the immense satisfaction, pussy spasming in the aftershocks.
Once Jungkook removed the showerhead and your body calmed, he slowly lowered you back down to the floor. Shaky legs prevented you from standing completely straight and you laughed breathlessly at how the prior activities caused an uncanny amount of oversensitivity in your nether regions.
One step forward and your clit was slightly rubbed, shooting sparks of mild pain and pussy-clenching pleasure throughout your stomach.
“You shouldn’t have done that, babe. I’m way too sensitive for any more action now.”
“That’s alright, love.” Jungkook kissed the side of your temple and switched you around so that he could stand under the stream of the shower. “Go and get dried off and dressed. I’ll meet you in the living room for a movie?”
As if it was glaring at you, you couldn’t help but drag your eyes down your boyfriend’s toned body to the angry red tip of his dick.
“I, uh…” You trailed off sheepishly. “I can suck you off? Let me help you out.”
“No, it’s okay, babe. Now, go.” He ushered you out of the shower while you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Why was he giving himself blue balls?
Leaving him alone in the shower was most definitely bothersome, but on shaky and fatigued legs, you couldn’t really fight him on the matter. As you toweled off and glanced through the shower door to look at Jungkook’s form, you furrowed your eyebrows even further when he didn’t start touching himself.
After you were dressed in his shirt- again- and sitting in the living room with Netflix open, ready for your boyfriend, you began to feel the exhaustion from your earlier activities on top of the fact that you hated waking up early for work. Comfortably warm, showered, and relaxed on an unexpected day off, the calm had your body sinking further into the couch and reveling in the warmth of the blanket placed over your body.
Just as you were about to drift off, you heard Jungkook padding down the hallway from your bedroom, prompting you to turn and look at him.
Your eyes had trouble staying on his playful expression when he was dressed the way he was dressed.
His hair was still wet, droplets dripping onto his shoulders and cascading down the expanse of his shirtless body. All that covered him was his favorite pair of raggedy joggers. Frankly, they were your favorite pair as well- for obvious reasons.
“Wine?” He asked as he made his way into the kitchen.
“Yesss.” You drawled with a newly awakened sense of excitement.
After grabbing two bottles and popping them open, he snuggled into the couch with you, wine glasses in hand. You held your breath and attempted to control your body, pussy pulsating slightly from the aftermath of the shower.
It took a while to get back to where you were before, but once you were much past the point of being giggly, you began to slur your speech as the movie played on.
Jungkook wasn’t in much better shape.
“You know,” Jungkook sat up and swayed a little too far forward, catching his body right before he toppled over. He snickered at himself before he continued. “I haven’t really been paying attention to anything we’ve been watching.”
“What?” You were honestly shocked, drunken mind and all. “But ‘About Time’ is so good! Like, what the heck Kookie-ookie-ook! This movie is so cute and interesting.”
The new nickname sent you into a fit of giggles. Your creativity tended to get a bit wonky and, honestly, comical when you were drunk.
“But how could I possibly pay attention to the movie when I’ve been thinking about burying my cum in-between your legs for the past hour?”
His statement surprised you to say the least. Your pussy throbbed uncontrollably, sensitivity still present from the shower. You couldn’t help but think of how sex with him in your current state would be.
“Why didn’t you let me suck your dick in the shower? I could’ve taken care of you, you know.”
“But I wanted to give you a break so that I could cum inside. That’s the only place I want to cum.”
“So you don’t want to cum down my throat?” You blamed the wine for the filthily honest statements coming out of both or your mouths. Speaking this casually about your sexual activities wasn’t exactly the norm.
“On any other day, I’d say yes. But today? I really just want to fill you up. Fuck you all day.” Your boyfriend inched towards you slowly without actually looking at you. It seemed that he just wanted to be in a closer proximity with you yet was hesitant to get too close. “Make you bloated. Hear it slosh around when you move.”
You were kind of mortified, but you were also extremely horny at the same time. Of course, he wouldn’t be able to bloat you nor would he be able to hear his cum inside of you, but it was the thought that counted.
“You wanna fuck?”
Jungkook turned to completely face you, chocolate-brown doe eyes silently pleading for the go-ahead. He bit his bottom lip before pushing it out into a pout as he whined. “Uhuh.”
You laughed as you threw off the blankets and spread your bare legs. Your boyfriend’s shirt came to rest on your waist from the action.
You gestured to your crotch and then curled your fingers towards yourself, smiling.
“Come to momma.”
Jungkook did not hesitate to cover you with his body and kiss you sloppily. The wine was taking its toll on your movements with him, encasing him in your hold lazily.
Somewhere between the messy tongues and teeth, Jungkook had managed to push your panties aside to thumb over your sensitivity. It took everything in you to not scream out- whether it would be a scream in pain or pleasure still had yet to be determined.
Your nub tingled desperately, pleasure-fatigued and vulnerable to the ministrations of Jungkook’s thumb. Finally, though, he had begun dipping his fingers into your core to balance out the bliss.
“Gonna paint you white. Make it drip.” Jungkook mumbled almost incoherently as he spoke with your bottom lip sucked between his plump ones. Your fingers threaded into his blonde locks, tugging when you needed a way to release your sexual frustration from his dirty words.
You hadn’t noticed when he retracted his fingers from your depths, but you definitely felt the sensation of him rubbing his dick into your folds. The smooth surface of his tip contrasted sharply with the roughness of the pad of his thumb. You hadn’t even realized that he had slipped the waistband of his sweatpants down to free his erection.
The sensation was beginning to sober you up just a little.
As he slipped inside you, you keened, angling your hips to receive him. He kept one hand hooked around your panties to keep it to the side and circled the other around your waist to allow himself to lay atop you. All of his body weight crushed you into the couch, but the closeness of him on you was gratifying.
Jungkook dug his face into your neck, moaning softly as your velvet walls parted to caress his cock. He wanted to feel your pussy drag on him and squeeze in an attempt to bring him back inside. He needed to feel how much your body enjoyed him inside of you.
So he kept his movements to a slow minimum, lazily curling his hips to just barely rear back so that he could reenter with an unmotivated rhythm. It was perfect for you because your mind was already warm and fuzzy, unable to keep up with much.
You sighed in relief, feeling his skin rubbing against your clit as he bottomed out time and time again. He separated your walls agonizingly slow, yet it was the perfect rhythm that allowed you to feel each time the head of his dick kissed the end of your cavern.
You moaned softly as the movie played on, begging for attention but receiving none. It was no use ignoring the fact that your orgasm was building with Jungkook’s hips touching your skin. Even at the leisurely pace that he fucked you, the passion was ever present and working you up.
For the next ten minutes, Jungkook kept his tempo gentle and relaxed, uncaring of reaching his climax too soon. You, on the other hand, reached your tipping point as he dug his nails into your waist.
Almost like a dream, your orgasm layered itself onto you softly. You trembled under his weight but held him closer to help accommodate the bliss of your muscles contracting around Jungkook’s deliberate thrusts.
When you heard the tell-tale sign of your boyfriend softly grunting into your skin, you could tell he was beginning to feel his impending orgasm born from your own. It was only moments later that he began leaving sloppy kisses and love bites onto your neck as he shuddered a breath.
Calm and still quite drunk, you still managed to feel his cock pulsing against the restrictive embrace of your depths. You ran your fingers through his hair and smiled delightfully at the sensation of being the one to receive his love and affection. The temptation to to kiss his sweaty temple was too strong to resist once he ceased moving and slumped against you.
The silence was peaceful. Minutes had passed without a word. The afterglow of your sex was strong and loving, warming the two of you like a blanket.
From the way he breathed so evenly, you believed that Jungkook had fallen asleep. It was only when he let out a light chuckle that you looked down and saw him smiling with his cheek smushed against your chest.
“I like drunk sex.” He muttered. “It’s fun.”
You had to agree with him on that one. “I think it’s fun too.”
After a beat, he whined. “But why do I still want moreee?”
“I’m afraid that’s not entirely up to you.” You tipped your head back and laughed, inebriated mind coming up with more silly nicknames. “It seems that Mister PP can’t take any more right now.”
Drunk Jungkook was one you could always get behind. Instead of acting like an idiot, he acted like a kid- not the bratty kind, of course. He was cute and cuddly, a perfect opposite to how he acted sober.
However-
The moment he attempted to retain his erection by pulling it out of you and yelling at it became one of the few moments that he acted like a complete idiot.
“No! He can go again! Isn’t that right, Mister PP?” You watched as his dick gave one last jerk of life before it began softening. You wheezed from laughter as your boyfriend’s eyes widened in horror. “No! You can’t do this to me right now! We were supposed to fuck her full of cum!”
“It’s okay, babe.” You reassured him as you slowly nudged him off of you so that you could go clean yourself. “Just take a break, okay?”
On shaky legs, once again, you stood and headed for the bathroom to clean yourself with a giggle slipping past your lips.
Once you got back to the living room, your eyes immediately zeroed in on Jungkook sitting upright on the couch, tenderly stroking his dick through his sweatpants with a look of defeat on his face. You just sighed and grabbed the remote to turn up the volume of the TV in hopes of distracting him.
He couldn’t help it. He was much too drunk to get himself hard again so soon after sex, so you would wait until he was since he was so determined.
The movie as well as your second bottle of wine were coming to an end when he screamed in success. You jumped out of your skin at the exclamation, placing a hand over your racing heart.
“Yes! He did it! He’s back!” You looked at him in shock when he reached into his waistband to grip himself. His eyes locked with yours as he did so, smirking in the process.
You raised an eyebrow at him expectantly, yet below your cool exterior was the unavoidable truth that was the awakening of the flames of your desire.
“Is this why you called me out today?” You turned your whole body to face him. “So you could fuck me all day?”
“Mhm.” He affirmed, grabbing you and slowly turning you onto your stomach. “That’s exactly why. I just need to be inside you. Like, all the time.”
As you felt him slide your panties down your legs, the tone in his voice changed. The chuckle he let out wasn’t nearly cute and innocent anymore; his demeanor became dark and menacing.
“I called you out so that I could fuck you all day- in every way I could think of.”
A shiver ran up your spine at the sudden shift of mood. Your body, worn out and exhausted, still managed to vibrate in excitement when Jungkook took a handful of your ass and squeezed it harshly. He leaned over your body to whisper in your ear after running a hand under your shirt to tweak a nipple between his fingers.
“You got the lazy vanilla shit first. Now, let’s play.”
~#~
If you’d like to read more of my work, feel free to check out my Masterlist!
2K notes · View notes
trinketprince · 4 years ago
Text
Osomatsu-san High School Timeline (Classes and Years)
So I was rewatching the Osomatsu-san Movie and I noticed a few things while crying to the credits!!
1st Year - 10th Grade
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Matsunos are all in one class, they get into their antics and daily lives together as six! They introduce themselves and they’re all p much the same person just like in osomatsu-kun where each sextuplet could be exchanged for each other.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Same Classmates, same exams, same sports class, same lunches! At first everyone found it endearing.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
But then they slowly started finding it weird, this is when the matsunos realize that they should start differing themselves from each other.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
And then they start distancing themselves from their classmates, feeling ostracized.
2nd Year - 11th Grade
Tumblr media
It’s a new school year and the Matsunos are split into two different classes, (i’m gonna call them Oso’s class and Choro’s class). They start dressing differently and acting very different from each other, and Jyushi has awakened to his jyushi personality!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Season 1 Episode 17 says he has his jyushimatsu debut during his high school debut in the 10th grade, but this got retconned for the movie, where he gets his personality in the 11th grade.
Tumblr media
The blu-ray release also has this exclusive photo of Jyushimatsu wearing his Gakuran to school. Just like his jyushimatsu debut, this got retconned from 10th grade to 11th grade. (iirc this was added post-cinema to a) add a funny memory b) explain the discrepancy between the movie and the yearbook)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Even if they have deviated from each other a bit, they’re still on good terms with each other, they go to school together, hang out when class isn’t in session and go home together.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Choro, Jyushi, Todo and Takahashi-san are all in the same class lmao, Choro allows jyushi to copy his homework and totty and choro play around while class is in session, at some point, hatabou and chibita barge into their class lmao.
Tumblr media
Not a lot of photos of the other three, but Oso, Kara and Ichi are classmates
Tumblr media
their class shares swimming classes with Choro’s class
Sports Festival
Tumblr media Tumblr media
and during the sports festival, Oso’s class goes up against Choro’s class in the cavalry battle, (and yes they are all very good friends)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(oh btw, Atsushi and Uchikawa are in a different class from Choro’s class, and this is probably when Totoko and Takahashi became friends)
Cultural Festival
Tumblr media
Oso, Jyushi and Todo must be either in the same club cause they’re all in the maid cafe exhibit or Oso is filling in for Choro in their class exhibit (could also be Jyushi filling in for Ichi and Todo filling in for Kara).
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Kara is in the drama club as a Tree and the others + Takahashi watch him
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Also unless the Matsunos are 27 years old (they were 17 years old during 2nd year + 10 years = 27) , then this moment from Season 1 Episode 3 with Jiguzo probably got retconned (most likely considering that Karamatsu isn’t even the leading role in the play, and it’s unlikely he became the leading role in 3rd year cause his confidence plummeted by then)
There are some events I didn’t cover (Like the snowball fight, trip to kyoto, cooking class, library visit, Karaoke, sports class) (most of these come from the Anan Magazine, Bonus art cards that came with the Blu-ray version and some parts i was too lazy to resize from the credits)
3rd Year - 12th Grade (Graduating Class)
I go into miniscule detail about the events of the day before graduation and the Letter and Graduation day and the incident. I’ve put it under a readmore cause it’s just too long.
But for the Year and Class they are
Oso, Ichi and Takahashi-san
Kara and Jyushi
Todo and Choro
Evidence is also under the readmore.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
They eventually start drifting even more to the point where they don’t even eat dinner together. The only one’s still willing to talk to the others are Todo and Kara
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Oso, Ichi and Takahashi are classmates, it is unknown if Totoko is their classmate since even though she’s standing behind them during graduation, she talks about them in a distant way.
Tumblr media
Kara and Jyushi are classmates
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Meanwhile Choro and Todo are classmates, they’re the closest out of all the sextuplets
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(todo would hide behind choro and this trait would follow them to adulthood, in Season 1 Episode 3, Todo clings on to Choro while they head to the restroom)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Near the end of the school year, with them still being distant from each other, Takahashi writes a letter filled with her feelings about the matsunos, unable to hand it to them personally she leaves it at the matsuno residence the day before graduation
The Day Before Graduation
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Karamatsu finds the letter after class with an ambiguous address, around the same time, the adult matsunos get transported to the memory world and the Hatabou Incident happens (Elephant chases after him, causes a pile-up accident, takes a plane down and ends up at the hospital)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Looking for his brothers to discuss the letter he heads up into their room and almost runs into the adult matsunos.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Around the same time the adult matsunos are making their way throughout the city, observing the younger matsus (Choro and Todo had just left school, ichi was out with friends, jyushi was hanging at the strip mall and oso was being a little shit trying to find someone to spend time with, that’s why they weren’t at home). Karamatsu has left home to look for his brothers / think about the letter
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Ok sO I KNOW THIS POST IS GETTING REALLY LONG!! but!! here’s the very very very miniscule details of the timeline, Choromatsu and Todomatsu head home first, Todo heads to the living room to watch TV while choro heads upstairs to “Study”. Oso, after getting beat up by the girl heads home, as he is heading upstairs Jyushi arrives home as well, the two ignore each other. Jyushi heads to the living room, while Totty tries to strike conversation, Jyushi ignores him. Oso heads upstairs to read manga and Oso and Choro ignore each other. Ichi, after leaving Yanagida and his buddies, rests at the park (this is where he went to while Yanagida karaoked with adult totty and ichi). Kara finally heads home and heads to the roof, thinking about the letter, he sees Ichi head home as well.
The Next Day: Graduation
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Kara tells Oso to gather everyone on the roof
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Miniscule detail time! again! Todo and Choro arrive there first, then Oso then Jyushi then Ichi and finally Karamatsu. Takahashi, not seeing the matsunos at all, head home. Totoko sees Choro and Todo and goes looking for them asking Chibita and Hatabou about where they are.
Now, depending on whether or not the timeline got rewritten, the matsunos fight and go home crying
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
MINISCULE DETAIL TIME: Choro is the one twiddling his fingers and tapping his foot impatiently. As Karamatsu struggles to talk about the letter and suddenly Ichimatsu snaps and shouts at choromatsu, as they’re arguing, Oso tries to calm down ichi, but Ichi snaps at him too.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Jyushimatsu joins in and starts arguing against Choro as totty watches helplessly. Oso and Ichi start going on a full blown argument
Tumblr media Tumblr media
With the way Oso’s eyes are twitching, he seems to be expressing his annoyance and ichi has tossed his facade out the window. the convo prolly went something like 
“you talk a lot of shit for someone who fakes his personality to make friends”
“that’s rich, coming from someone who’s just utter full blown garbage”
Tumblr media
Totty tries to stop the fight, and Kara fed up screams
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“YA-”
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“-ME-”
Tumblr media
“-RO!”, telling them to stop.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
As he’s trying to break choro and jyushi’s fight, totty, who was rushing forward to stop the fight as well gets knocked down on the ground due to his smaller stature.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Choro goes to help totty up, since everyone is worried about totty, jyushi, ichi and oso gang up on kara, In the cat’s eye’s reflection, Jyushimatsu punches karamatsu, Karamatsu in turn headbutts ichimatsu.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Oso beefs with Kara, Choro helps totty up and Ichi has Jyushi in an arm lock
The fight from the memory world differ from the flashback of the real event
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Ichimatsu is the first one to shout, but instead of arguing he straight up punches choromatsu
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Osomatsu is again, the first one to try and stop them from fighting, you can see in the photo that jyushi and todo are on the very right (red slippers and smaller frame). Choro fights back and it becomes a mess and who’s who starts to get jumbled. The letter is lost by the end of the fight and they head home, kara in tears cause of the regret
Tumblr media
(btw the reason why ichi has the strongest disgust is because he knows he’s the one to start it lmao)
But if the timeline got rewritten then:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
the Matsunos don’t fight at the roof top. (note that they don’t have injuries) Karamatsu was able to tell them about the letter, they reconcile and take a picture with takahashi-san, two copies are made, Takahashi has hers framed at her bedside table and the matsunos keep theirs at their yearbook.
There is speculation on whether the photo was taken at her house like in the memory world or at the rooftop since her memory self visits the rooftop as her last location.
Anw, that’s all!!!
TL:DR  1st Year Matsu: Same Personality
all classmates + Takahashi
2nd Year Matsu: Personality shows up
Choro, Jyushi, Todo and Takahashi are classmates
Oso, Kara and Ichi are classmates 
3rd Year Matsu: cold treatment starts
Oso, Ichi and Takahashi are classmates
Kara and Jyushi are classmates
Choro and Todo are classmates
Thank you for reading! Here’s Karamatsu’s ID I found while researching!
Tumblr media
and you know what? here are the rest as well
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
mandoalorian · 3 years ago
Text
sensational
Maxwell Lord x F!Reader
Summary: Maxwell is away on a business trip for work, and you’re missing him more than you anticipated.
Word count: 2,2k
Warnings: 18+ smut; guided masturbation, male masturbation, female masturbation, light degradation, edging, orgasm denial, phone sex, long distance after care 🥺
Authors note: I’ve missed writing. So here’s a little something for Maxie cuz I’ve missed him too :( <3
Tumblr media
Maxwell had only been gone sixteen hours. He left at 6am, and it was currently: you rolled over to check the time on your bedside alarm clock. 10pm. You frowned, pulling the crushed velveteen blankets up to your chin. He was probably fast asleep now anyway— after the flight and a long day proposing business scheme after business scheme.
You missed him a lot. He promised to call you every morning and every night, so long as he wasn’t swamped at the office. That was his promise and truthfully, you thought you’d be okay. He was only due to be away for a week. You knew a lot of other long-distance couples had it much worse. But being alone in his big suburban house was more isolating than you had ever even considered. It felt empty without him, and it didn’t feel like home anymore.
At least tomorrow you’d get to see Alistair, so that was a plus. You mentally groaned as you remembered how you were going to have to visit Maxwell’s ex-wife in order to pick up his son. She didn’t seem to like you all that too much, and to be honest, you could probably do without the chore of visiting her every Tuesday evening and putting up with her crap. It would be okay though. Alistair was worth it.
Your mind wandered back to your boyfriend. Your smart, handsome and powerful boyfriend with the honey coloured hair and chocolate brown eyes. He was always soft and warm— and a fantastic lover. Not only he was an excellent businessman, but he was also a brilliant father and a wonderful partner. He really was the perfect man for you.
You smiled wickedly to yourself as you remembered last night, and the antics you had both gotten up to before he had to leave in the morning. It was a long, passionate night. Your fingers ghosted over the love bites and bruises that were peppered across your neck and collarbones, and you gasped at the memory, a familiar heat rushing down your body.
If only he was here now… you two could’ve done it all over again.
Your glazed eyes flicked up to the telephone that was on your bedside table. You must’ve been staring at it for a good few minutes, contemplating things. Maxwell had scrawled the number to his hotel room down on a card before he’d left… just in case of an emergency.
You dipped your hand down to your cunt and felt your breathing hitch as you gathered all your slick on your fingers. You hadn’t realised just how wet you’d become.
Just call him. The devil on your shoulder urged. If he was sleeping, you certainly didn’t want to wake him but… surely there was no harm in an innocent goodnight call. At least then, you could hear his warm voice and his articulate words.
Maxwell Lord had you whipped.
Sighing, you took the phone from the hook and dialled his number. He answered on the first two rings.
“Hey honey,” he had a tired lilt to his voice, but just the depth and richness of his tone was enough to set a blaze in your tummy. “I was just about to go to bed,” he continued. “It’s late. Why are you still up?”
Yes, his voice was giving you everything you had desired, and more.
You swallowed thickly, your finger tracing lazy circles over your clit. “Mm couldn’t sleep. Was thinkin’ bout you.” you revealed, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible. If you could get off to his voice alone, without having him notice what you were doing, that would be perfect. If he did catch on that you were touching yourself without his permission though… that would be a different story. “Miss you.” you exhaled, your eyes snapping shut.
“I miss you too sweetheart,” Max sighed, and you could faintly hear him shuffle around in his bed, the sheets making a fuzzy noise on the other end of the line. “What— what were you thinking about?”
The question was a trap. You knew Max all too well. He was right to have his suspicions.
You didn’t even bother opening your eyes, and you tried to repress a longing whine as your finger involuntary picked up speed, like some kind of reflex reaction to his question. “S-stuff,” you stammered out when you felt your fingers begin to dampen and slip between your folds. But ‘S-stuff’ was hardly going to be good enough for Maxwell. You dipped two fingers inside you, surprised at how well they were stretching you. “Mm— Max, miss— I miss—“
You couldn’t even finish your sentence, already close to pushing your first climax out.
“Princess?” Max asked. “You there?”
Your response was delayed but was followed by a stifled moan that wasn’t lost on Max whatsoever. “Need you.” you gasped out, dropping the phone to your pillow by your head so you could use your other hand to rub yourself.
The friction of your digits rubbing against that sweet spot and the way your index finger and middle finger curled up inside of you was too much. You could feel yourself coming undone.
“Oh,” Max omitted knowingly, unable to contain the small smirk that was crossing his lips. “Oh baby.”
He felt his cock twitch from the faint little whimpers you were making, and he slid his hand under the waistband of his light grey sweats, freeing his already semi-hard erection.
“Tell me princess,” Max hummed. “What ‘stuff’ were you thinking about?”
Fuck. You wanted to curse. He knew. He clearly knew you were touching yourself to the sound of his voice; probably thinking you were needy and desperate. But you were. You really were and you’d give anything just to feel his hands on you right now.
“S-so much,” you answered, trying your hardest to collect your thoughts for him. “Undressing me. Caressing me. Mm, you playing with my tits like you always do. Kissing them— sucking them. Biting…” you reluctantly pulled your finger from your clit and began to palm at your breasts. “Come home.”
The two words were practically begging him. You ached for him. Your entire body was burning with arousal and you needed him more than you’d ever needed anyone before.
You knew it was a stupid request; and that he couldn’t just ‘come home’. But if you could have one wish— it would be for him to be on top of you right now, smothering you with kisses and whispering dirty little words into your ears.
“M-Max?” your voice was broken as you continued curling your fingers inside of you.
His fingers were wrapped around his own length now, pumping it as he imagined you sprawled out, naked on his king-sized bed. The grey sweats and white shirt had been long discarded onto the floor.
“I’m right here baby,” he assured, gathering the beads of milky white precum and rubbing it up and down his cock. “I’m here. Why— why don’t you take my pillow and grind your pretty pussy over it hm? I know you can get off like that, you dirty girl.”
Another uncontrollable whine omitted from your lips at his light degradation. You followed his orders, knowing better than to disobey. Taking his pillow, you got on your knees and positioned it in between your legs, holding the phone to your ear as you began to thrust your hips.
You imagined it be his lap. You’d rubbed yourself over his thighs plenty of times, making a mess of his designer pants and creating stains not even the drycleaner’s could remove. His pillow still vaguely smelt of his apple scented shampoo and it only spurred you on even more.
“I bet you look so pretty right now,” Maxwell grunted. “My pretty girl. What are you?”
You squeezed your eyes shut as the pleasure rifed through your veins. “I’m your pretty girl.” you confirmed, feeling your cheeks heat up when Max chuckled.
It was a sensation overload— and you knew you wouldn’t be able to last. Maxwell knew too, judging by the way your moans picked up and became jagged. “God— Ma-Mmm—Max,” your thoughts were fuzzy and jumbled as you increased your pace. You wanted to feel something inside of you again. Your fingers or a dildo or— something, anything. But you weren’t even sure if you’d get the chance. “I’m so close,” you warned. “Gonna— gonna cum—“
“No,” Max said darkly, his voice having lowered an octave. “Roll on your back princess, and pull the pillow off you.”
You wanted to cry. You knew he always liked to play these games.
“B—but,” you choked out, wanting to finish and reach your orgasm.
“Don’t make me ask again.”
He was using that scary business voice. The one you often overheard when he was on the phone with partners or associates. Reluctantly you pulled the pillow away from your weeping cunt put it back in its place.
“O-okay,” you mused, wiping the tears that had pricked at the corner of your eyes as you changed position and got comfortable on your back, just like he’d instructed.
“I wish I was with you sweetheart, wish I could fuck your little pussy. How wet are you?”
“Very.” you replied exasperated, desperately waiting for him to let you touch yourself again.
“Show me,” Maxwell smiled wickedly. “Move the phone in between your legs and finger yourself. I want to hear you.”
You frantically followed his instruction and inserted your two fingers inside of you, pushing them deep and curling them upwards so they hit that hot, spongey sweet spot. Your legs were shaking and your back was arched over top of the satin sheets as you panted your boyfriend’s name.
Max was more than thrilled to hear the squelching wet noise that echoed throughout the comfort of yours and his shared bedroom, with every thrust and curl of your fingers. It felt good but… it just wasn’t him.
Now his own broken gasps were audible. You loved to hear him. He always got loud when he was close. That’s how you knew he was about to finish. “So— so good. Sweetest cunt in the whole fuck—fucking world. When I come home I— gonna fuck you so hard.” he promised in between shaky breaths.
Your lips curled into a grin and you arched your back as your slick dipped down the softness of your inner thighs. After all the edging and over stimulation, there was no way you were going to last. This was exactly what you wanted; Max may not have been physically there but his voice alone had always worked wonders.
“Can we— can we cum togeth—“ your request was fuzzled by the way you buried your head into your pillow, feeling a warm flush of heat race to your core.
“Yes,” Max cut you off impatiently. “Are you close?”
“Y-yeah, I don’t think I can hold it—“
“You can baby, you can. I’m going to count down from three and we’ll cum together. Okay?”
You were a screaming sweating mess at this point, and his countdown couldn’t have felt any slower. Three seconds felt like three years as you mustered all your will to obey him.
“Three, two, one—“
He didn’t even say zero. The countdown was followed by a long groan falling from his lips as his milky white seed spilt all over his fist and his tummy. His cry pushed you over the edge and you released your own climax, spasming and shaking on his side of the bed.
You curled up under his sheets, still shaky, and pulled the phone back to your ear. “Hi,” you whispered sheepishly. “That was good.” you bit down on your lip, smiling to yourself. Your own voice was a little hoarse from all the moaning and whimpering.
“Yeah,” Max agreed, smiling himself. “Are you okay?”
“I’m tired,” you admitted with a huff, relishing in his cologne scented blankets.
“Wish I was there to clean you up,” Max sighed, and for a split second, he pondered the consequences of catching the next flight home.
He always took care of you after sex, paying a meticulous amount of detail to how you acted after your moments of shared intimacy. He’d fetch you water and wipe away any mess with a warm wash cloth. Sometimes he’d even help you into some cozy pyjamas or one of his shirts.
“I can go clean myself up, don’t worry about me,” you hummed in contentment. “Are you okay?”
“I’m perfect baby,” he grinned “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
“I can let you go—“
“No,” you cut him off, clutching onto the phone not wanting him to leave. Yeah you’d missed the amazing sex but truthfully, you’d missed him the most. “Can we uhm, can we just stay here on the phone together? Fall asleep together? I— I want you to be there when you wake up.”
Max hesitated for a moment, but he didn’t see a problem with your request. In fact, he thought it was a wonderful idea.
“Yeah, of course honey,” he replied softly. “I’m gonna go wipe myself down. You should do the same.”
“O-okay,” you sniffed. “I love you. I won’t be long.”
When you returned, Max was already waiting for you. “Princess?” he called, when he heard you shuffle back into bed.
“Hiya,” you giggled, rubbing your eyes. “I’m sleepy.” you admitted, your statement followed by a yawn.
Max chuckled. “Has my girl worn herself out?”
You laughed and nodded your head. “Yeah.”
“Okay sweetheart, let’s go sleep.” Max hummed, resting the phone by his pillow and closing his eyes.
“Okay, good night Maxie.” you mused softly.
“Good night honey.” He returned, before you both fell asleep.
——————
Permanent taglist: @paintballkid711 @supernaturalgirl20 @phoenixhalliwell @xoxo-callie @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @girl-obsessed-with-things @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja200 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat @rye-flower @theamuz @persie33 @sleepylunarwolf @martellthemandalor @pedro-pastel @steeevienicks @rrtxcmt @readsalot73 @softmedics @jade10077 @dodgerandevans @planetariumx @pascals-cat @ajeff855 @spideysimpossiblegirl @smoldjarin @thewayofthemandalorian
134 notes · View notes
hnychn · 4 years ago
Text
KARASUNO’S MANAGER !!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
SYPNOSIS — it’s a new year and the karasuno team decides to throw a new years party in the school gym
WARNINGS — tooth rotting fluff <3
AUTHOR’S NOTE — none of this is realistic but shut up and let me live laugh and love with the idea it’s real
Tumblr media
⇀ HAPPY NEW YEARS BABESS
⇀ so it all started out when noya and tanaka came up with the brilliant idea to throw a new years party
⇀ and since canonically, everyone in haikyuu are losers, everyone agreed 😀
⇀ of course you invited your boo kenma 😼 and the nekoma team
⇀ and kuroo invited the fukurodani team since bokuto heard about the party somehow
⇀ the party is held in the gym, it's byoc
⇀ "bring your own cups"
⇀ cause y'all broke broke 😭😭✋🏼
⇀ kidding . . . about the cup part, y'all are broke though . . .
⇀ anyways, so the team put you in charge of getting the drinks
⇀ . . . but they never specified non-alcoholic 😼
⇀ so you, being the six foot seven giant you were, got some alcohol
⇀ it was surprisingly easy
⇀ like the guy behind the counter didn't even ask you for an ID or anything and he probably assumed you were 21+ because of your features 🤡
⇀ i mean you do be chiselled by the gods themselves 🤪🥴
⇀ not me simping over you 🤺
⇀ so the party is about to start and you come in with literal bottle of alcohol like fUCKING JACK DANIEL'S AND WHISKEY AND RUM AND ALL THAT SHIT
⇀ and when daichi saw you with all the paper bags filled with bottles of alcohol he just-
⇀ . . . 🧍🏽‍♀️
⇀ "y/n. . ."
⇀ "yes? 🤠"
⇀ "why. . .why do you have alcohol?"
⇀ "you said to get drinks. ."
⇀ "i mEANT PUNCH-"
⇀ all daichi wanted to do was punch you 🏌️🏽‍♀️
⇀ LMAO BUT NOYA AND TANAKA TURNT UP WITH THE ALCOHOL
⇀ they poured that shit into those punch bowls? ya know? the ones in those cliche highschool movies
⇀ they got red solo cups and everything 🔫
⇀ anyways, so people start showing up and daichi panics because no sir, these minors aren't getting drink on his watch, but oops-
⇀ kiyoko locked him in the shortage closet 👁
⇀ "i'll let you out in 20 minutes"
⇀ because babes knew that's all it'll take for everyone to be blackout drunk
⇀ and she was right 💅🏽
⇀ fifteen minutes into the party, noya, tanaka, yamamoto, lev and a bunch of first years are drunk drunk.
⇀ suga, kuroo, asahi, and ennoshita are also drunk but like they're the chill typa drunk y'know?
⇀ they playing a game of uno with normal playing cards 🧍🏽‍♀️
⇀ kenma . . . doesn't want to be there BLESS HIM LMAO-
⇀ he's sitting in the corner, red solo cup in hand because kuroo took his pspspsp and won't give it back, even if he is drunk
⇀ and you- good god
⇀ YOU. ARE. D R U N K.
⇀ i'm talking the embarrassing type of drunk
⇀ you're dancing on one of the volleyball poles like a fucking stripper and bokuto is throwing napkins at you like they're ones please- 🔫
⇀ kenma is just in the corner staring like 🐚🌝 hello yes, officer? imma need animal control here asap.
⇀ LIKE DJFJD WTF IS MY BF DOINGG
⇀ he's embarrassed for you 😔✋🏼
⇀ but in the corner of your eye you see kenma sitting all alone so you go over to him, alcohol nearly spilling over the side of your red solo cup
⇀ "what're you doin all alone here, kitten?"
⇀ kenma crinkles his nose because you smell like alcohol, but he just shrugs
⇀ he says something but you can't hear him over he loud music, so you lean closer but you end up spilling your drink all over your shirt and you just
⇀ "ew it's sticky . . . i guess I'll just take it off"
⇀ SO YOU DO
⇀ IN A CROWDED ROOM
⇀ OF DRUNK POSSIBLY NOT STRAIGHT MEN
⇀ and holy fuck-
⇀ how knew you were so foine 🥴🥴
Tumblr media
kenma's eyes widen when you suddenly pull off your shirt, your chest still slightly damp from the drink spilling on you. he could feel heat rushing to his face the longer he stared. kenma wanted to look away, he really did, but it was something about the way you rubbed your hands over your abs and chest to wipe off the moisture and the way you looked down with hooded eyes that had him entranced. he couldn't look away, and by the sight of the other people in the room also staring at you with no shame, they couldn't either.
despite being drunk, you could tell people were staring and it filled you with a sort of confidence you only got in the privacy of your room with kenma. speaking of kenma, he wasn't fairing any better. his head was turned to the side to look away, but his eyes betrayed him and stayed focused on your chest.
you smirked.
kenma gasped as you suddenly leaned forward, your hand slamming onto the wall next to him and the other pushing him by the hip, your cold fingers slithering up his shirt and sending chills up his spine. your breathe was warm next to his ear and kenma's blush intensified.
"see something you like, kitten?"
kenma's breathing began to get heavier the longer you whispered in his ear, his chest and pants tightening. kenma refused to look up, knowing half of the people in the gym were staring, but he would by lying if he said it didn't turn him on more than he already was.
your stopped whispering in kenma's ear and began trailing kisses down his jaw and neck, leaving marks behind. kenma had to bite his bottom lip to stop noises from escaping his mouth, but his restraint was limited due to the small amount of alcohol in his system.
your fingers traveled further up his shirt and caressed his waist, pulling him closer to you. pulling away from his neck, you turned to his lips, sucking and biting on them as if it would be the last time you would be able to. kenma's neck was littered with hickies that, even in the darkness of the gym, were extremely visible.
but before things could go any further, you were ripped away from kenma by a fuming daichi, "first you bring alcohol and get everyone drunk, then you try to fuck your boyfriend in the middle of the gym? i'm gonna kill you, y/n."
Tumblr media
⇀ you were put on daichi watch for the rest of the night 😔🔫
⇀ but by the time 11 rolled around, you were a bit sober so i guess that's good
⇀ everyone gathered into he middle of the gym and counted down until midnight
⇀ kiyoko and yachi had hung some of those colour changing lights and gave the room some amazing vibes
⇀ and kenma was standing next to you, your arm slung over his shoulder as the lights hit his face perfectly and outlined every feature of his beautifully
⇀ you smiled down at him
Tumblr media
"it's already 2021, huh?"
kenma looked up at you and immediately looked away when he saw that you were already looking at him. even after months of dating and nights spent in each other's embrace, he still got nervous when you looked at him the way you were right now.
eyes so full of love and lips pulled into a satisfied smile.
"yeah. . . i guess. . ."
you laughed and pulled him closer to your side, kenma stumbled a bit and grasped onto the new shirt you put on. it was a spare that you left behind in the clubroom one day.
"c'mon kenma! new year, new possibilities! what are your new years resolutions?"
kenma shrugged, burying his head deeper into your side, "i don't have any."
5 . . .
you smiled, "really?"
you looked back up at the digital clock kiyoko hung up on the wall just for new years, your smile never faltering. kenma loved that about you, your ability to smile no matter what. no matter the circumstances.
4 . . .
"what about you?" kenma asked, a small bubble of guilt building in his chest for not answering how he thought you wanted.
you looked down at him with the same lovesick eyes and satisfied smile, kenma felt his heart stop, "me?"
you looked back up at the clock, "hmm. . ."
3 . . .
"i think. . . " you drew out, a playful smile on your face when kenma pouted at your long answer. he slapped your chest when you laughed at him.
2 . . .
"i think," you tugged kenma in front of you and rested your chin on his head, a lazy smile drawn on your face as everyone else yelled about, excited for the new year.
1 . . .
"i think i have everything i could ever want right here."
HAPPY NEW YEARS!!
kenma gasped as you suddenly turned him around, lifting his face by the chin. everyone around you cheered as the clock hit 12 and it was now January 1, 2021.
kenma's heart pounded when he saw the same old lazy smirk on your face and the same old lovesick look in your eyes; but no matter how many times he's seen it, he would always feel the butterflies fluttering in hit stomach.
"happy new years, kenma." you whispered as you pulled him into a kiss.
what a way to start the new years.
Tumblr media
⇀ everything after that was a blur
⇀ the party amping up as a way to start the new years and you were sure even daichi had a cup full of some unholy concoction of alcohol kiyoko made for him
⇀ when you woke up, you were in bed, kenma laying a your side.
⇀ with close on, y'nasties 👁
⇀ your head felt like it was going to explode and your stomach turned in ways it shouldn't
⇀ but you were too lazy to get outta bed
⇀ me 🤡
⇀ so you just pulled kenma closer and went back to sleep
⇀ dreaming of a happy future with the man in your arms
Tumblr media
taglist:: @stickystrawberrysyrup @420-uwu @nvthvlyy @kaiwai @goshizaki-jun @thetrash-mammal @dprhvn @bakuhore
a/n :: i'll add the read more thing in the morning, i gotta start getting dressed for the new year party. this was kinda rushed too so sorry if it's a bit jumbled or something
519 notes · View notes
antiloreolympus · 3 years ago
Text
12 Anti LO Asks
1. its victim blaming of hades to tell minthe its HER fault she "couldnt get over him". like? you lied to her! youre the one who blurred the lines to date her! you were just as toxic to her if not more so by controlling where she lives and her job, all while never defending her to your cruel family! you had all the power over her while she had nothing! you dumped her for a 19 year old and dont care she crippled minthe! i wont excuse minthe's actions, but hades is ultimately the worse of the two IMO
2. you know why fans claimed "Minthe should've reacted better"? since the first episode Rachel has been drilling into their heads Minthe is an irredeemable monster, and her not bending over backwards to H/P means she deserves the absolute worst. Minthe reacting how anyone logically would doesn't matter when LO is designed to coddle H/P, and anyone against them must suffer for it, even if the victim to H/P's actions. they never wanted her to be "redeemed", they want her head on a silver platter.
3. i know this is not what she intended bc the only characterization rachel has of hxp is "the best over everything" but uh, does she know having hades control all the petroleum and gasses and whatever else is actively destroying the planet, right? like hes helping the very thing persephone draws her power from and what she's connected to be destroyed to appease hes need for wealth and power. its kinda gross hes being romanticized while he commits horrible acts like this for his bank account.
4. its not impossible to go opposite in their original myth personalities and still have it work. like in hades game, sisyphus is one of the most likable characters, achilles is gentle and kind, ares is calm and rational, etc, but it makes sense within the context of the story. LO in comparison goes "all these loving mothers are evil because i said so! this beloved god is now evil because i said so! minthe is evil because i said so!" and that's about it in terms of logic to these wild changes.
5. I can kinda get behind anon's theory about the flower nymphs looking like P to help her be undetected, the problem is there are also unrelated women in comic who are bright pink and look just like her, with hades even confusing them for her! if i had to bet the only reason they look like that is because rachel just wanted daphne to look like her to hammer home apollo is "obsessed" with P and to fake them as her "real family" over demeter. also just laziness in designing characters in general.
6. its weird hades and persephone are well aware what they're doing is bad even openly admitting it and yet the narrative is so hellbent on excusing their bad actions?? like hades being the major toxic factor in his relationship to minthe, persephone killing people, or hades wanting to bone an eternal 19 year old? like rachel you know thats not how character growth works, right? you cant show they have horrible flaws and leave them to never grow and learn from it, that's not good writing at all.
7. what i also dont get is the hierarchy makes no sense? like zeus is framed as the top god, but that would mean hades cant be the most important man ever so rachel also made him equal rank with zeus (and i guess poseidon too) so?? how does zeus have all that power over them then if theyre all equal? is it because zeus swallowed metis?  also how are the fertility goddess so powerful and rare yet so easily taken down? how are they overpowered and super weak at the same time? i just dont get it.
8. Re reading chapter 144 and other anon is right we do see the pomegranate pin on Hades outfit (so Hades gifts it to her)
But also some things to note
During the makeout session persy begins to disappear in butterfly form and hades is like "no don't leave!" And he grabs her, preventing her from leaving. Which is..kinda Ick considering they were on their way to having (public) sex and he doesn't want her to leave which seems like he's not really respecting her boundaries? (because if she does he'll "be lonely")
The pomegranate pin is Hades' to begin with so technically one of Persephones symbols is not hers (yes I know in the original myth she ate it in the underworld / was forced to eat it but still its supposed to be her symbol)
Hades notes that he "doesn't want to overstep his boundaries as host" because Persephone is a guest (too late for that)
Persephones main concern (after what a week or 2?) after being raped is when Hades wants to stop her reaction is "dont you want me anymore?"
Girl you aren't even dating ...??
Persy's literal one and only concern is that she thinks if she doesnt sleep with Hades right then or when/if he wants to that "she wont be able to give him what hes used to" ... Which is reinforcing that she went to therapy to get "over being blocked" in regards to having sex
Although Hades does mention that she shouldn't feel like she needs to please him and that a kiss can just be a kiss which would be nice
(And yet his thinking of marrying her amd he's known her for 2, 3 weeks? ... And he says "the beginning of a new relationship is exciting and scary" so hes basically indicating thay their dating at this point, I think?)
And later the nymphs in the store are like "do you wanna be the dominatrix of the bedroom?? Buy this lingerie!" And persy does. So??
Meanwhile Demeter is very worried for her daughter who is busy sitting in Hades lap in a pool. 
9. Can we talk about how anons are making fucking flow charts for the LO Timeline cause it's so ridiculously jumbled?
10. im not even against rushed relationships, ive known actual couples who met and were married all within the same year and it worked out great, the difference though is these were people who had their own lives and previous relationships. the issue with LO is RS designed it so Persephone can NEVER have relationships or a life outside of Hades, and if they did get married offscreen, it's framing their marriage in a toxic and unbalanced light. That's not a romance, it's a disaster waiting to happen.
11. i feel like there's a difference between drawing an interesting hooked/aquiline nose versus whatever the hell RS puts on Hades' face. It honestly looks like he's in between morphing into a bird half the time since it just looks like a beak over an actual facial feature.
12. are there shareholders or a board of advisors or something at underworld corp? because if there is id say they have more than enough reason to kick hades out and strip him of his titles/shares because of all the shit he's caused by being guided by his broken pp over thinking with his head. liking dating TWO employees? and getting one of them phsyically crippled by the other bc he can't be honest with either of them and she's a walking time bomb? he's a walking HR nightmare.
38 notes · View notes