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#wavy charm
allibunn · 5 months
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A nice sunny day
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uncanny-tranny · 1 year
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I kinda love when people describe something that falls outside of a dichotomy as being "bisexual"
Like... "Oh, I don't have straight or curly hair, it's bisexual (wavy)"
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edenfire · 5 months
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💙💚"Haru-chan mo daisuki"💚💙
my new underwater wavy makoharu charms are finally here!!! yippee!! they turned out so darling, and I'm so excited for this new acrylic texture, it's so cool😳🌟✨️✨️
I really hope you guys are as excited as I am🥺🙏
> my shop <
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danmeigirl · 6 months
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hushedhippie · 2 years
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Two words - hair charms.
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chopshajen · 2 years
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A drawing I did as a gift for my friend Liz of her character Dahlia with her baby Vesper <3 I may have no fondness for irl babies but I am surprisingly capable of drawing them, probably thanks to my fascination with their chubby arm/leg rolls
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madelynraemunson · 6 months
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pass the salt • e.m. smut
DAD’S BEST FRIEND!OLDER!EDDIE x FEM!READER
part two here
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summary: you’re home from college and staying with your dad for the summer, spending as much time as you possibly can with him…and his hot best friend that you’ve never seen in your life.
authors note: okay have you guys ever seen those text posts like “when you say ‘daddy pass the salt please’ and your father and your man both reach for it” 💀💀 well this is inspired by that concept. also i went overboard and this is a LONG BOI
disclaimers — photo credits to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple 🫶🏼porn with plot, reader’s nickname is “sunshine”, reader has female anatomy, race unspecified, divider: @iluvpooks
NSFW — 18+ obv, porn with plot, daddy kink pls keep scrolling if it’s not ur thing, slight age gap (eddie is mid to late 30s, reader is in her early 20s), corruption kink, size kink, masturbation (m&f), p in v sex (protected), dirty talk, teasing, sexual innuendos, extreme flirting, eddie kinda being a perv, praise kink
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The sound of breakfast on the griddle summons you downstairs.
Dad never cooks.
For as long as you can remember, weekends at your dad’s have always consisted of Lucky Charms cereal and powdered donuts. That tradition continued even after you started college.
Oh yeah. Someone is here, alright. Someone Dad desperately wants to impress.
Trailing after the commotion, your fuzzy pink slippers guide you down the wooden steps of your dad’s ‘bachelor pad’ and into the kitchen. And when you near the bottom of the steps, you can make out two distinct voices — one belonging to Dad, another belonging to someone who's identity is obscure.
“God, I fucking missed you, Jeff. Missed everyone so much.”
The smells of pancake batter, cigarette smoke, mint, and petroleum fuel reel you in, but not nearly as much as the sight of the man sitting on the opposite side of your dad. He's built, handsome with wavy brown hair, leather, black denim, twiddling a toothpick between his teeth as he listens to your dad speak with a smile on his face. That is, until you come into sight. It then that his intense focus circles in on you.
Funny. You don’t remember this friend. And something in your gut tells you that you won’t ever be forgetting him after this.
The stranger's grin curls into a wonder-filled smirk. You can feel your knees start to buckle.
“Uh oh. Looks like our shenanigans woke up Sleeping Beauty.”
When you get a closer look at Dad’s friend, you observe his faint brown beard — neatly kept and lightly peppered with some gray — delicious lips, shiny white teeth, and grooves along his laugh lines that would deepen with every theatrical cackle he belted out.
You can't help but freeze in your tracks as him and your dad continue on with their banter, reliving their glory days like it was yesterday. Man. What a damn dreamboat.
Your dad’s eyes light up with glee when he sees you.
“Hey, good morning, Sunshine!” Dad cheers. “Thought you’d never wake up. This is my friend Eddie. We were in that band together in high school. Come say hi.”
"Yeah, come say hi," Eddie agrees. feeding into the obvious tension in the room. "I don't bite."
The stranger laughs at his own comment as soon as he utters it.
There’s a charm — a magic — about Eddie that could only be found in Hollywood or the Big City. But of course, you didn't expect any less from Dad's supposed ‘Rockstar Friend’.
When your parents had you at 17, life went on for Dad’s band Corroded Coffin. And although he missed out on the ‘Sex, Drugs, and Rock&Roll’, Dad insists that tea parties and white picket fences were an ideal trade-off. Because — despite how things ended with Mom — it still meant a life spent with you.
You tell him your name as Eddie offers you his hand to shake. Electricity serges through you when your hand is enveloped by his firm, calloused one. Eddie smiles down at you, his presence all-consuming. It's almost as if he knows it. And as much as you were dying to, you resist the urge to fall into him.
Eddie's no better.
It takes everything in Eddie's power to keep his eyes above your collarbones, reprimanding himself with the utmost tedium. Because heaven knows he'd be TOAST if his best friend found out that Eddie thought that you were absolutely stunning — strutting around the house the way that you do, without a bra underneath that poor excuse of a sleep shirt — a sleep shirt far too tight for your own good. With tight, pajama shorts to match…
Of course, this is all an assumption…Not that he caught wind of it or anything.
“You know…” he mentions. “Your dad has told me SO much about little miss Sunshine.”
“Me, really?” is all you can say behind those fuscia cheeks.
“Really,” Eddie insists. “He never shuts up about you, darling.”
“Hopefully you’ve only heard good things,” you mutter faintly.
And instantly, your dad and Eddie share a laugh.
“Only good things,” Eddie assures you. He nudges your dad playfully.
Your dad doesn’t exactly deny the last part, basically confirming to Eddie that you’ve got a hint of spunk to you. The heat settles at your cheeks as you shy away from your father’s curious friend.
Taking note of how timid you’ve just become, Eddie furrows his brows.
“What — was that an implication that you’re not always good?”
“No comment,” your smile melts into an awkward one.
“Kept me on my toes back then,” your dad reflects with a sigh. “Keeps me on my toes now.”
“You don’t say…” Eddie smirks slightly, gaze panning back over to you.
Eventually your dad leaves you two alone, going into the garage to fetch something that he insists Eddie would like. But little did he know that such thing was already in the room, leaning…reaching into the fridge for some orange juice, not realizing its atmosphere caused your nipples to harden.
Eddie’s eyes proceed to follow you as you strut back to the griddle, flipping some hot cakes over before tending to your messy bedhead.
Eddie probably doesn’t know — or maybe he does, who knows? — that you feel him staring at you. It’s a burning gaze that practically impales you, but you’re too nervous to say anything. You’re better off pretending like it’s something you don’t notice.
You and Eddie continue to help yourselves to breakfast, enjoying the company of each other and your mutual silence. That is, until Eddie speaks up.
“Got some sausage for you if you’d like.”
“I’m sorry?” you sputter, looking up from your food.
Eddie shoots you a weird glance as he holds up some breakfast franks.
“Sausage?” he repeats. “Store was out of beef so I settled for turkey. Hope that’s not a problem.”
“Not at all,” you clear your throat. “I love turkey sausage.”
“Okay, good,” Eddie chuckles, seemingly relieved at how quickly the situation had diffused.
“Cool,” you chuckle with him while taking some links to cook.
The silence returns once more and is replaced by the sizzling of the grill. It’s short lived, however, because soon, the man nearly twice your age speaks again.
“What’d you think I said?” Eddie circles back.
“Nothing, why?”
“You just looked stunned.”
“I just woke up,” you shrug. “My mind’s somewhere else.”
“I can tell,” he smirks. “Get that thing out of the gutter.”
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The coming days paved way for some more innocent flirting.
…Like when you make sure to wear the shortest skirt in your closet when running Eddie his afternoon beer in the garage.
“Well don’t you look absolutely darling…” he says as he peers up from his guitar.
“Hehe,” you smirk connivingly. “Thank you!”
“You are so welcome.”
Eddie downs the liquid guilt along with his pride, watching you strut around…the hem of that pleated cotton fabric just barely covering the roundness of your asscheeks. And as you blush a rosy pink when you process his little remarks, Eddie can only clear his throat in arousal, fantasizing about just how badly he wanted to turn your other cheeks that very shade.
…Or when you come downstairs the next day to help Dad manually wash his car.
While he and Eddie are harassing each other with soap and that god-forsaken hose, you decide to join in on all the fun.
“Watch out, Sunshine,” Eddie forewarns. “You’ve just entered the splash zone!”
And with the intention of cooling you off on a hot summer day like this, Eddie teasingly sprays you with said hose, your white shirt becoming transparent when lathered with water. He could see everything. Your erect nipples. Your perky tits bouncing in the sunlight as you jump around in excitement. How glazed your oil-nnuendo’ed skin looked when glimmering in the sun. All as intended.
“You got me,” you surrender yourself to him. “You got me good, Eddie.”
And when you walk away, Eddie mutters slyly to himself.
“Yes, yes I did.”
…And then there’s dessert after dinner.
Eddie watches as you lick your popsicle, his fingers curling at his thighs in arousal as you retract the wrapper before enclosing your lips around the bright pink dessert. And he swears he’s going to blow his pants when he envisions the melted sugar shooting into your mouth with the swiftest hollowing of your cheeks, the quiet suction noise you make with your pursed lips forcing him to adjust the way he’s sitting.
…The final instance takes the cake.
“What’s your major?”
You’re in the home library grazing some of Dad’s old books and vinyls, talking to Eddie while your father gets ready for the day. Meanwhile, Eddie is perched at your dad’s desk, rolling around in his expensive swivel chair and occasionally doing some spins on it to make you laugh.
“History.”
“Sounds boring.”
“You just haven’t found a topic that interests you,” you point out.
“Mm,” is all Eddie says. “Maybe I will eventually.”
Eddie watches as you waltz around in front of him, following your movements with his eyes as you get onto your tippy-toes in order to grab some books on the top shelf.
“Oh my god!” you yelp.
Your plan to entice him seemingly fails when you graze a book that’s halfway off the shelf. It’s already flying off of its platform, headed straight towards Eddie's lap before you can even stop it.
Eddie catches it before any damage can be done, saving Dad’s old campaign book with the hand furthest from you and snaking the other around your waist to prevent you from sinking any further into him.
Phew. Crisis averted.
Your eyes meet again.
“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” you gasp in embarrassment. “That book has a mind of its own.”
“You’re fine,” Eddie laughs. “Can’t defy the laws of gravity. Sometimes it betrays us.”
You feel yourself burning up a fever. Excusing yourself from the room, you leave Dad’s library and make your way over to the kitchen for a glass of water.
But you’re nearly taken aback when you feel tight, calloused hands wrap around your hips, and like a feather it’s like you’re whisked away into the air, and soon your body is pressed up against the wall.
Slam!
Breathing heavily against each other now — chest to chest, lips so unbearably close you can smell the whiskey — Eddie draws you even closer to him. You both study each other intently. It’s like you’re waiting for the other to say something. Eddie does the honors and speaks first.
“I wasn’t born last night, doll. I was also your age at one point.”
———
To his own despair, Eddie touches himself later that night. Facing your room, he strokes his rock hard cock with his lotioned-up hand, running his thumb across the slit of his head, pretending it’s your tongue giving him a little tease like you did the popsicle.
“Fuuuck,” he grunts quietly. “You like when I fuck your throat, baby? Gonna suck me dry with that pretty little mouth of yours?”
You’re playing make-believe just as much. Because at the same time, in your room, you’re a drooling, pathetic mess, riding your wall-mounted toy to oblivion in your bathroom, legs trembling when the thick, veiny piece of silicone slams into the spongy part of your heat, initiating shock-waves all across your body.
“Eddie,” you find yourself blubbering. “EddieEddieEddieEddie…”
You both know it can’t be like this, but that was the mere thrill of it all. And when you both have overcome your peak, just one mere wall apart, the floodgates of guilt outweighs both your arousals the way it comes pouring in.
So, so wrong. But oh, so right.
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You’re anticipating…waiting…aching for Eddie to make the next move.
He doesn’t.
“Going to the store again,” Eddie announces. “Hopefully this time they’ll have beef sausage. Need anything?”
Need you, is what you think. But you end up shaking your head, a part of you disappointed that you and Eddie won’t be able to spend some time alone together.
“No,” there’s defeat in your voice.
“Are you sure?” Eddie questions softly.
“Mhm,” you nod.
“Okay,” he gives you a grin, one in the form of a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be right back. You be good.”
“Ha-ha,” you roll your eyes.
——
Eddie leaves the door of his room open that night. Just a smidge. You end up following the sound of his TV that he’s placed at a low volume, making out that it’s Seinfeld just by Jerry’s voice and the laugh track.
Your heart skips a beat as Eddie laughs along with the show, shaking his head at a stupid joke. But he shifts his focus immediately onto you when he sees you at the doorway.
“Having some alone time tonight?” you ask him.
“Mmm…not by choice,” he responds. “Tuckered your dad out after dinner doing P90X.”
Eddie follows a crazy workout routine. He says that it helps with his stamina, especially when he does crowd work during his stage performances. Your mind can’t help but wonder what else he may be using it for.
You snort. “Yeah. Dad wasn’t what you’d call an athlete in high school.”
Eddie laughs at that too. Both you and him know that.
He then pats the space on his bed beside him. “Wanna come watch with me?”
Your stomach does a series of cartwheels when you process Eddie’s question. You know what’s bound to happen if you follow through. And it seems Eddie knows it too. Even if there wasn’t any sexual tension between you both already, the concept of it all would rub anyone that way.
But you still follow through with it. Just like Eddie knew you would.
“You comfortable?” Eddie asks you, eyeing you endearingly as you squirm around on the bed.
“Yeah,” you breathe.
“Good…” he replies, voice nearly at a strained whisper now.
You two watch the show in silence for a few minutes, exchanging commentary and pleasantries regarding the show every so often. It’s not too long after Eddie pulls a laugh from you that he starts closing up the space between you both, scooting himself closer…and resting his gruff palm over the base of your knee.
You inhale sharply as he does so. And evident by your refusal to pull away, it’s enough of a green light for Eddie to hike up further.
A soft moan escapes your mouth from the back of your flustered throat, but you bite your lip in restraint.
"I'm sorry," you whisper.
"For what?”
You shrug sheepishly as Eddie continues to graze your thigh. Your breathing falters even more.
“Don’t be scared,” Eddie coos.
“I’m not,” you insist.
“Then what’s stopping you from getting on top of me? Hm?”
He’s in between your legs now, the rough material of his denim jeans riding up your sex, teasing your clit with every calculated rub against it.
“And riding my rock hard cock til those pretty legs give out?” Eddie continues. “I see how you’ve been looking at me, doll. It's all over your face how bad you want it.”
“The bed is squeaky,” you answer honestly. “And that headboard is a lost cause.”
Eddie puts the dirty talk on pause, squirming around to assess the guest bed’s squeak factor. When it checks out, he gives you an understanding nod. You giggle.
Eddie wastes no more time. You watch as he grabs one of the pillows on the bed and wedges it between the wall and headboard. He issues you a sly smile.
“Oldest trick in the book.”
You're back to fooling around shortly after, your aching core burning with lust as you pine for him.
“The boys at school ever touch you this good?” Eddie quips rubbing circles around your puffy, needy folds as you hopelessly cling to him out of pleasure.
“No, Eddie.”
“Didn’t think so.”
He continues to tease, gliding his fingers along your slit before slowly inserting two large digits inside of you.
His calculated pumps into your needy pussy are steady, a pace so agonizingly beautiful that it makes you squeal sweet nothings into the crook of his neck.
"Shh, baby," Eddie hushes you. "Your dad's gonna hear us. Gotta be quiet for me, mkay?"
Your hot, messy, and muffled sounds cease as Eddie soothes your quivering lips with his tender ones.
The wet sounds that ricochet and fill the room in tandem is almost enough to send him over. And Eddie is sure to communicate that… with an abrupt curving of his three thick fingers.
Fuck.
Needing him direly now, you tug helplessly at his pants.
“God, Eddie,” you whimper. “Just fuck me already. Please.”
Eddie laughs at the desperation. He hasn’t ravaged you to his fullest extent yet, and you’re already a pooling mess beside him.
“Well since you said please, sweet girl,” Eddie obliges as he starts to undress himself. “Your wish is my command."
You watch Eddie as reaches over into the bedside drawer for a fresh box of condoms. Looks like the sausage links weren't the only things he went to the store for.
“Oh.”
Eddie chuckles at your observation before shrugging. Can you really blame him? You both knew what was coming.
You watch with absolute lust as Eddie slides the piece of rubber over his long, girthy, throbbing cock. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever had before, and the snarky, hooded-eye smile as he watches you fawn reveals to you that he knows exactly how to use it.
"On your stomach, babygirl. Will have you all nice and pounded out just like you wanted.”
You situate yourself in prone and spread your legs for Eddie to line himself up against them. He teases his wrapped cock against the entrance of your pussy, and when his soothing countdown is over, your lips part in disposition as you accommodate his ruinous stretch.
A throaty moan spills out of the both of you the moment Eddie snaps his hips in and out of you. Meanwhile, one of his hands lays tauntingly at your stomach, so the prideful man can feel himself wriggling inside you, glazing his shaft with your slick more and more with every pump into your weak cunt.
"Fuck, Eddie... yes..." you mewl. "R-right there, Eddie, please..."
And then it picks up. You can feel Eddie’s hips practically collapse right onto you, his balls slapping against you as he digs further into your body.
"God damn..." the man sighs in disbelief.
He can only beam down at you in awe. You were taking him so good, pussy swallowing him so nice and tight. And when you nestle your ankles between each other to keep him there in prone, the nearly cries out in pleasure, but refrains because he knows your dad is resting — just a thin wall over.
That still doesn’t stop him from going to town though. Practically seeing stars, the broken record of a mouth that belongs to you chants Eddie’s name like it’s all you know. Eddie attempts to keep you contained, offering you his fingers to suck on as he’s railing you dumb.
And when he fucks you through your climax, Eddie continues with his string of lust-filled praises, satisfied at himself that he was able to make you wet enough to soak the mattress.
“Did so good for me, angel,” he praises you as he sucks at your temple. “Always knew you weren’t all that innocent.”
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The griddle comes out again on Eddie’s last day. But this time, for a homestyle southern dinner.
You and Eddie were on mashed potatoes and gravy duty at the stove, an ordeal that only opened doors for lots of innuendos on Eddie’s part. Meanwhile, Dad insisted on making the rest, having taken pride in continuing his Mama’s legacy.
“This is amazing, Daddy,” you rave. “I really missed this. Do you mind passing the salt, please?”
And to your horror, you watch as your father and Eddie automatically extend their arms, bumping into one another in the process en route to getting you the salt.
The gentlemen meet each other’s eyes.
“Ohp!” Eddie exclaims, letting out a slight chuckle. “Sorry.”
You try your hardest not to blush. Eddie kicks you from under the table, and softly he oh-so-seductively he mutters,
“I was just tryna help her out.”
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yandere-writer-momo · 8 months
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Not quite Yandere yet but here is a snippet of the Yandere single dad short story. And a kindergartener obsessed with you being his mom
Yandere Short Stories: Mommy (Prequel)
Eventual Yandere Single Father x Teacher Afab Reader
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A pale hand shakily held the drawing his son, Jesse, made in horror. Who on earth could the smiling woman beside little Jesse be? Had another snake tried ti sink their fangs into the Isbert family once more?
Liam Isbert was the heir to the Isbert family. A man of extreme power and wealth who many women (and men) tried to woo. Only one had successfully baby trapped him which resulted in Jesse’s birth.
“Who is this woman?” Liam glared at the elderly nanny who frowned at Liam’s anger. “What kind of wench had been filling my child’s head with lies? She is not his mommy.”
“I assure you Miss (last name) is just his teacher. Your son is extremely attached to her.” The nanny told Liam which only made him angrier.
Impossible. She had to be after their family’s money and that’s why she sunk her fangs into a child. How cowardly!
“Notify the school that I wish to have a private meeting with his teacher.” Liam told the nanny as he ran a hand through his dark, wavy locks. Liam was so frustrated with these gold diggers. They were all the same…
He might have to homeschool Jesse now…
.
.
.
Liam sat in the back of his limousine as he watched Jesse excitedly run into the kindergarten. Liam has never seen his son so excited for anything in his life.
The brunette took a long drag from his cigar when he saw a beautiful young woman head towards Jesse. A smile as warm as a ray of sunshine on her face when she saw Liam’s son.
The little boy hurdled his small body into his pretty teacher. Jesse’s arms wrapped around her legs, while his blue eyes stared up at her with so much love it made Liam want to puke. How on earth did this woman charm his antisocial son?
Liam reeled down the window and was about to scream at her when he heard her laugh.
“Goodness, Jesse. It’s only been a day. Are you that excited to learn?” (Your name) smiled down at the dark haired boy who nodded his head.
“I just wanted to be with mom-“
“Jesse, it’s Miss (last name).” (Your name) ruffled Jesse’s dark brown hair which made the little boy pout. “I’m your teacher.”
“Why can’t you be my mommy? You’re so nice to me…”
(Your name) laughed as she bent down to pick Jesse up. “Because I would have to date your dad and I don’t really have any interest in men.”
Jesse thought for a minute and then he scrunched his face. “Daddy is kind of mean and he’s smelly.”
“You’re not supposed to say your daddy is mean or smelly!” (Your name) loudly giggled as she carried Jesse into her class.
Liam sat frozen in his limousine in shock. She didn’t want to date him? And… what did Jesse mean by him being mean and smelly?
“Sir, your meeting with the teacher will be at three in the afternoon. Do you want me to take you to the office.”
Liam shook his head and reeled up the limo’s window. “Yes. That would be nice, Allen.”
For the first time in many years, Liam felt his heart flutter.
.
.
.
“You must be Jesse’s dad. It’s nice to finally meet you.” (Your name) warmly smiled at Liam who remained silent. Liam couldn’t hear a word she said due to how loud his heart beat in his ear drums. His beating muscle would bring a snare drum to shame.
“Mister Isbert?” Liam was brought back down to reality when his teacher addressed him. His green eyes focused on her concerned expression. “About your reason no for a meeting… Jesse seems to be quite attached to me due to his lack of a mother. I try to correct him but he seems adamant about it. I am so sorry to inconvenience you-“
“What is your motive?” Liam narrowed his eyes at the young woman who seemed shocked. Motive? Whatever did he mean?
“What do you mean-“
“How much money do you want? I’m willing to pay you if you leave my son alone-“ Liam was shocked when (your name) slammed her hands on her desk when she stood up.
“How dare you… I’m sorry that other people have wanted such things from you but I do not. I care about Jesse. He desperately wants a parent that loves him and he’s not getting that from anyone in his house.” (Your name) scoffed at Liam’s shell shocked expression. The young woman shook her head. “This is extremely unprofessional of me, but you never spend any time with your son so I’m not surprised you don’t notice his concerning behavior of wanting to be loved.”
Liam gasped when she slapped a file in front of him that was full of letters from Jesse. Dozens of notes asking her to adopt him. Why did his son want this woman so badly?
“Be a better parent before you point fingers. Now get out of my classroom.”
Liam felt his cheeks heat up and his heart pound in his chest. She didn’t want his money��� she just wanted Jesse to be cared for…
Liam was shocked to see Jesse outside the door. Jesse’s little hands clutched his lunch pail so tightly, his knuckles were white.
“Jesse-“ Jesse shoved past Liam to stand beside his teacher.
“Mommy, I want to eat lunch together! Can you cut the crust off my sandwich? I don’t like the crust.”
(Your name) smiled down at Jesse and took the lunchbox from him.
“It’s Miss (last name), Jesse… but of course I can take off the crust.”
And that’s when Liam noticed the pink blush on Jesse’s cheeks. Jesse loved his teacher… and who was he to separate them?
Liam shoved his hands in his suit jacket pockets and left the school in a hurry. His fingers itched for a cigar to try to calm down the rush of emotions he felt.
Perhaps he’d apologize to Miss (last name)? He wondered if she liked roses?
Liam blushed at the thought of her accepting roses from him. She’d be so pretty in red…
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kithtaehyung · 2 months
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minted (explicit) | myg
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title: minted (explicit) pairing: street king!yoongi x street cart vendor!reader rating/genre: explicit (18+) ; angst , suspense , smut ; haegeum au , gang au summary: all you do is wake up, sell your fruit on the dusty streets below your flat, and go to sleep. but everything changes when a customer you always look forward to seeing turns out to be dangerous. really, really dangerous. note: again, this wasn't on the docket for 2024 until i saw one (1) mint yoongi edit on my pinterest feed💀 anyways, this is dedicated to hali @sailoryooons for ur belated bday, nary @joonary for being a cutie pie and letting me adopt the tangerine cart girl idea in general, and luce @minttangerines for ur url and for being a wonderful friend. love you all! warnings: this series may not be for everyone, language, violence, weapons (guns/knives/chopsticks/etc.), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, murder, gang activity, poor reader is just trying to get through the day, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, tension, slow burn, choking, reader suffers from “my cabbages” levels of disaster, slight e2l, fight sequences, multiple future explicit scenes, yoongi deserves his own warning, chains but who is ever ever shocked, graphic depictions of violence drop date: august 5th, 2024, 9:03pm est word count: 9.4k aiyaaa✌ mood playlist: here
Ever since you could remember, gang activity in your town has run unchecked. 
Anything goes. Rough fights out of nowhere, car chases busting streets, or even random delinquents snatching food on the run, dust kicking up onto stock they left behind. 
And out of all the districts, yours is begrudgingly the second worst. 
Why? You still aren’t completely sure. But you do know that the darkest is reserved for the underbelly that only slithers in rumors. A place in which you will never find yourself. 
But you do wonder what must happen there to warrant the winning title because each day here is a battle to keep yourself afloat. 
All you do is sell fruit. Why are you fighting for your life every week? Why can’t you exchange goods for money in peace? If you could compare it to the movies you grew up watching on an outdated television, it’s a grungy reflection of the wild west.
But through all the shit you’ve chosen to endure, at least one person is always kind enough to buy his wares and go.
And today is no different.
You still don’t know his name. But you yearn to. Because his hair is the color of magic and rebellion, and his tattoos really set off that bright mop of locks. 
If those lethal, piercing eyes weren’t enough.
When he lifts three long digits, it takes all your strength to nod and get his purchase together. This is the part that never changes, either.
Just like always. One, three, or five fingers for tangerines. Never two, never four, and never any other fruits. 
It’s charming, in a way. As if he’s more particular than most about what he wants—a trait elusive to many.
Like clockwork, you would hand his order over in thin plastic, and he would walk away to hitch a ride on a passing cart. Just like he does right now with a lazy gait, white tee billowing from his jeans. 
Another day. Another exchange.
In the wavy heat of summer, you sigh. Wondering if anything is ever going to change, and if you would ever get to know more about your most frequent, most mysterious patron.
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After a while, you do try talking to him. 
Those looks of confusion slowly turn into little hums or grunts, then into single words that keep you going for days. Even though you rarely hear it, his voice is just as attractive as he is. 
One day, you offer him a plantain, handing it over and telling him it’s on the house. 
“Thanks,” he says amongst the clinks and conversations of the street, pocketing the food away. 
When he does, you see a flash of black metal, and you already know what he’s carrying. You’re used to seeing all sorts of those around nowadays. In this district, you’d be shocked if he didn’t have an arsenal on his person while traveling through.
Besides. Even you have a couple collecting dust in your own flat, handed down by extended family but never used.
“If you ever need anything other than tangerines,” you start with a point to his pants, “Please buy those instead.” 
He’s unmoving. Blinks are all you get so you have no choice but to explain,
“I’m so tired of eating them with everything.” 
When he huffs in amusement, your heart flutters thrice. There’s no reason for a sheen of sweat and sticky mint locks to be so deadly. 
“Then eat something else,” is all the stranger advises before walking off. 
Well.
Even though you don’t have much of a choice, the guy does have a point. You wouldn’t be shocked in the slightest if his aim’s just as straightforward as his wit.
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Once one exchange lasts longer than a sentence, the two of you start little conversations during his visits. Which prove more fatal than normal since he’d rest his tattoos on the top shelf of your cart. 
From what you can make out, there are creatures stretching in beautiful teal and vivid orange, and even striking white on his other arm. They ripple so well with his veins, a canvas that sways and hypnotizes with every drum of his fingers. 
You know what they symbolize, though it’s unique to have all of them together. 
Taboo, even. 
But you can’t hold back your admiration because of the sheer beauty. What would they feel like if you just… 
“You always stare this long?”
Shit. “Oh, sorry. I just… I rarely see anyone’s ink up close.”
To your dismay, he takes his arm back. “I don’t have a lot of time today, princess.”
“Right, sorry. Hold on,” you respond, cringing hard at blurting two apologies in a ten second span. 
Meanwhile, your way too handsome regular cocks a brow, clearly comfortable making you squirm as you hand over his bag. 
Effortless. In your chaotic life, It’s almost intoxicating feeling someone this resolute in their whole demeanor. If only you could be so commanding and assured one day. 
But here you stand instead, pretending to count fruit you one hundred percent know the stock of already. “Your art is really nice, by the way,” you admit to your inventory. “All the high-powers. I like what you picked.”
“Didn’t choose these.”
Ah. Way to assume things. 
Raising your head, you make to apologize a third time.
But he’s already retreating with his tangerines, hand stuffed in a pocket and beautiful waves a little less vibrant than you recall. 
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“What.” 
“I worry sometimes.” 
His gaze lifts. “About me?” 
“Yeah.” 
You don’t know why you choose to say that of all things. But it’s honest. You always wonder about him and think about the weapon in his jeans. Does he use it? Does he ever need to? 
Maybe you should pick up a hobby or two.
Fingers resting dangerously close, he asks with a tilt of his head, “What would you do, doll? If something happened to someone like me.” 
Someone like him? What does that mean? 
Great. Now you have even more to wonder about, as if he knew that was your exact predicament.
You stare, roaming along his arms before meeting his eyes—almost. “Find someone else to buy my tangerines.” 
Huffing, his brows tick up with his mouth. “I respect that.” His attention doesn’t leave your face as he slowly takes his purchase. “See ya.” 
“Bye,” you whisper back, watching him go. More thoughts and concerns bouncing around your mind in the sticky heat of midday. 
These little nicknames he’s using also aren’t helping your issue in the slightest. 
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It starts when you hear shouting from a block down.
“Here they come!”
“Bunch of idiots this time.”
“What do you mean this time?”
Rough raiders this early? They should know it’s almost time for Dragon’s sweep. Bold.
After you hear the telltale yells, clanks, and bangs, your section of the street braces for impact. 
And it swoops in like a whirlwind, ruffians tearing through, pillaging and stealing and swiping goods into thick woven baskets. 
Baskets? The usual suspects always carry leather bags. You assume because of their sturdiness and inconspicuous nature, but what do you really know.
Here it goes again. 
As your fruit is taken right from your cart, you sink to your toes, mourning the regular loss of your menu.
No use fighting. Like every other time, you all let it happen because there’s no point in trying to protect anything that isn’t valuable. Perishables and small homemade goods aren’t worth getting gutted over. Truly, the worst losses you suffer are when—
Your cart shifts violently before thieves topple it over, cracking one of your wheels and splitting the wooden boards in three places.
Springing to your feet, you douse the perpetrators in anger, “What the hell!”
“Oh, this was yours?” Someone chides while his cronies run past. “Thanks for the oranges, love!”
“They’re tangerines!” you correct at his retreating back, kicking your cart before yelping at your bad decision. “Damn it…”
Back to your knees you go. Head drooping, arms encircling, and disappointment pooling around like a shadow.
More shouts and feet in the road rampage through. Then it gets quieter. And quieter. 
Then it’s done.
After silence swells in the wake of chaos, groans start making their way down the street. 
“What’d they get from you this time,” you ask your neighbor, a charming old man selling anything from bowls to wide, round frying pans. 
Looking over his little wreckage, he blinks hard. “They got my woks. Nothing as bad as yours. You okay?” 
Walking over to help clean his mess up first, you bend down with a sigh, “I’ll be alright. But it still sucks.. My poor tangerines..” 
“I’m sorry.” 
“Not much to do about it now,” you resign, all your energy taken from you, too. 
A little bit of time passes as you complete your usual round of help, though this raid was worse than others. As they all give their thanks, you keep thinking about how to make the whole situation better. Moreso for them than you because you’ve always been one of the least vulnerable ones on the block.
“You should find another place to sell, dear.” 
In disagreement, you slip into a saddened smile. “I can’t leave you guys,” you explain to the lady you’re holding pails for. “Who will help clean everything up?” 
“Don’t underestimate your elders now.” 
“Fair,” you respond through a chuckle, handing her one of the metal buckets. “If only better protection was an option around here.”
“You know the rules,” another shop owner drones through lingering spices, “Dragon won’t protect us if it isn’t in their own interests.” 
Unfortunately, he’s right. Every single raid that hasn’t coincided with a gang sweep goes overlooked. Even the city police don't bother coming down your street anymore, which is another issue in itself.
If only Tiger or Crane had been the high-powers in place instead. 
At least they seem to be more fair.
After you finish helping, you finally venture back to your own cart, realizing that the trek is a lot further than you thought. 
Did you really walk so far this time? The damage was dealt for much more than a block at this point. 
Not like you need to sprint back, though. What’s left to steal? Everything you got swept into those woven containers.
Still so odd…
But not as odd as the sight that greets you on your return. 
Because instead of seeing your wreckage of a cart tilted and abysmal, it’s upright and being mended.
By none other than your favorite set of hands.  
What the hell? What’s he doing here? You quite literally have nothing to give so there’s no reason for him to spare a second at your broken stand. 
Fast-walking, you hastily try to halt his help, “Oh, shit, you don’t have to—” 
“Course I don’t.” 
That shuts you up. In your split second of silence, you note with agony that his hair is messily tied in a minted bun. Are his sleeves bunched at his biceps, too? Great. What were you even telling him again? 
Ah, yes. You were telling this mystery of a man that he doesn’t have to literally put your stand back together. “Seriously, I got it.” 
“Don’t sweat it.” 
“But it’s my cart, I don’t need your—”
With one look over his shoulder, your mouth snaps shut. And suddenly can’t move to argue again. 
What the hell is up with today? 
Forget all that. What’s he doing? At least you’re familiar with all the shop owners and vendors on your block, though you can’t say you wouldn’t do the same thing for someone you don’t know. But this guy has always been so standoffish and barely approachable. So how is he lending both hands to help you right now? 
Whatever. If he’s gonna be as stubborn as this heat, you can be, too. 
Scanning the area for scattered tools, you find a sun-warmed hammer and get to work, fixing one end of the cart while he works on the other. When you feel his gaze on your working shoulder, it takes massive strength to ignore him—even if you wanna know what his issue is and why he smells really, really good this afternoon.
Looks like you need more nails for this board to fit. When your eyes find a couple on the ground, you clinch a second piece between your teeth while hammering in the first. 
Sounds stop at your side, but you wait until you pluck the metal nail from your mouth and stamp it in to look over.
Oh. He’s eyeing the hammer. Not you. Obviously. 
You wordlessly hand it over, arm slicked with exertion. Because after the day you’ve had, you don’t feel like everything needs a spoken sentence attached. 
It takes the guy a bit to take it from you, but when he does, he holds your stare. “Thanks.” 
You simply nod, eyes sticking to him as he works on the tattier side wait it looks almost new. Better than it has in a very long time. Did he really get that much done in the time you were gone? There’s been great care taken during his repair if that’s the case.  
Hmm. You finally learn something about your favorite customer. Maybe he’s just been a mechanic or carpenter this whole time? 
Contemplative, you get up on sore legs to walk to your cooler—something thankfully missed by the rough raiders. Digging through the clinkage, you retrieve a local beer you recently procured from the restaurant across the street. 
It’s not much. Absolute bottom shelf. But it’s all you got other than a few pieces of oni-coin, so he’s gonna have to deal with it.
When you offer the glass, your regular eyes it for a moment. More than enough time for you to get a good look at his striking floral top.
Well. Mechanic and carpenter are out of the question because that one piece of clothing looks more expensive than your entire apartment building.
Who even is this guy? Now you feel destitute handing him something so cheap.
Just when you think he’s gonna refuse, he takes the beer and smoothly shucks it open, suddenly making you wonder how a bracelet can do that and why it was so attractive.
God. You need to walk straight to the nearest inlet stream and dunk your head right in.
“Thank you,” you whisper, gulping at his full swigs. “You really didn’t have to do all this.” 
“Got some time to kill,” he shrugs. Standing, the man takes another sip, peering along the street with sunlit eyes. With the bottle near his mouth, he murmurs, “You really need to set up somewhere else, doll. This street’s turning into a hot spot.” 
Squinting up at the long lines of clothes and curtains floating in the breeze, you sigh at the building nearest. “I live close,” you sulk. “And this is the easiest place to get to.” 
Those are excuses. Just tell him the real reason you won’t venture out and plop yourself somewhere more profitable. Well, maybe not all of the reasons, but the main one. 
Leaning back on your cart, you stare at the loose dirt, swiping some with your shoes. “Maybe I’m just used to it at this point.” 
He won’t respond. Or he’ll respond in his own way, which is mostly silence. 
But a bright strand falls over his face before he hums, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 
Many people have warned you at this point. It’s basically your stubborn and spiteful nature that’s making you stay in the first place. Why would you move when you chose to be here? Why leave a place you actively choose to call home? 
Fighting spirit quelled, you nod right to your stand as you count what’s salvageable. “I know, but I like it here.” When he lifts an unbelieving brow, you look away. “It’s true. But trust me, if there was a way to just make it all stop, I’d take it.” 
He takes another swig, both of you looking into the street and watching things slowly get back to normal pace. Adults and kids alike are back to wandering around, buying what’s left and offering condolences. 
“I’m not fixing another cart,” your patron turned repairman grunts, motioning to your wheel as he steps back. “So don’t fuck this one up.” 
Huh? It wasn’t your fault! All the accidents and chaos that blow through aren’t something you can control oh he’s grinning. Why is he grinning? Why do you feel hot all over? 
His teeth shine in daylight. “I’m messing with you.” 
Ah. 
This version of him is not good for you at all.
When he starts to walk away, you blurt out a quick, “Wait!” 
Shit! Why did you do that? What are you possibly supposed to say right now? All you wanted was to see him a little longer… And while staring at his backside would be more than enough, you kinda wanted to actually talk. 
What do you do? He stopped; he’s waiting. 
And he looks impatient as hell. 
Snapping into action, you round your cart and trot over, offering your name as if you didn’t just give up where you lived. 
Then—without thinking—you ask for his with the most curious, innocent, “What’s yours?” 
Silence has never been so booming.
In the dusty swirls of your street, you wait with a back that’s getting sweatier and colder with each passing second. 
Was that not okay to ask? Did you fuck up with a single question? 
Perfect. You just blew your one good thing about being out here. Wincing, you crush your words so hard you think your teeth will break into dust, drifting off into the very breeze wafting his striking locks. 
After a condescending puff, he only smirks.
Then he takes one step. And another. And another.
The air around you melts, weighing on your shoulders while lighting them aflame all at once. It’s a feeling you can’t describe to anyone else, because they would just need to stand next to this man to believe it. 
Checking to see if the street is clear, your best customer leans over. Slowly. Purposefully. “Yoongi,” he offers with a voice so handsome you’ll think about it for days. “But don’t fucking tell anyone.” 
Oh. 
Why did… you kinda like that? 
Blinking, you swallow. “I won’t.” 
This is when he’s supposed to just leave. He’d walk away, bag swinging with his strides. But ever keeping you on your sore toes, the man just chuckles low before rasping out the most devilish sentence in existence, 
“Always took you for a good girl.”
Then he backs away, turning on his heel and leaving you a statue in the street.
Yoongi. 
For a hardened soul, his name is so… 
Tender. 
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For the next sixty days, you don’t get ransacked once. 
But there’s also been no sight of Yoongi. 
As the weeks trudge by, you can’t decide which outcome is worse.
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The skies are magnificent today. But obviously at a molten price.
“Thank you for trying,” you say to a lovely wares owner before venturing back out into simmering streets. Exhaling, you wipe sweat from your brow, squinting before choosing to walk left or right. 
Left seems promising. 
You’ve been searching for hours now, perusing through shops, checking out vendors both nice and catty. But after a whole day’s search, you still haven’t found what you’re looking for. 
It’s nothing urgent or pressing. But you would at least like to be prepared. 
Since your initial mission is a bust, hopefully your next one makes up for it before you melt right into gravel and dirt.
Find a meal.
Walking along the busy roads, you pass a few options and keep them in mind, making sure to greet a fellow tangerine cart vendor with a smile. Hopefully they do well today.
A couple steps further, a giant cooler catches your eye. Seafood of all types lie inside along cubes of ice, and you weigh the pros and cons of smelling like fish just to have a cool head.
But before you can make any choices, the smell of spices and hearty soup softly pull your feet inside the restaurant nearby. 
What’s here? Noodles? You’re always down for that. Apparently even in scorching weather.
After ordering, you take your seat at a random middle table in a chair facing the entrance. 
Always facing the entrance.
Damn. You really need to accomplish what you set out to do. But sunset is fast approaching these days, and you aren’t anywhere close to home. All you have time for now is eating and heading out. 
The service here is quick, at least. You’re already thanking the owner for sliding a bowl in front of your sweaty form. 
With a head full of thoughts, you stare into nothing, stirring your noodles and waiting for the heat to die down. 
Maybe you should’ve just walked a shorter distance and checked the shops you originally wanted to browse. If things went to plan, you could’ve been back by now, freshly showered and curling up on a worn down bed. 
But instead, your feet are sore, your head is anything but washed, and you have to trek home empty-handed—on the first day off you’ve had in months. 
Defeated, you sigh, going back to your bowl and watching sliced vegetables swirl in aromatic broth. 
At least the food in this area seems good. And the fading decor really adds to the… 
Ambiance. 
Wait. 
Dragons. A lot of them. 
You can’t pull your eyes away from the crew walking in, bringing heat from the sweltering sun in their eyes and donning their telltale, striking teal. 
But you can only kid yourself for so long because the one that truly has your gaze tethered is the man in front. The one you haven’t seen in weeks. The one looking right back at you with a visage so shadowed you feel like moving tables to let him pass. 
…Yoongi? 
His jacket. The colors.
He’s in Dragon?
Suddenly his hair makes terrifying sense.
As his guys stalk through, you swallow hard, not expecting to see him and having no earthly idea what to do with this harrowing information. There are so many thoughts overlapping each other that they all amalgamate into one huge batch of sludge. 
Aren’t you smack dab in Crane territory? There’ve been white suits peppering the streets everywhere. 
So what the hell is Dragon doing here?
From the slight confusion pinching his forehead, you know Yoongi didn’t expect to see you, either. Which makes it even weirder when he slowly takes your chopsticks right from your fingers. 
Hold on, what—
“What are you—”
A lone, long digit over lips is the only response you get, silencing you immediately before you whip your head around to watch him rush past. 
All of them waste no time tearing up the stairs, a myriad of blues blending with gritty paint and smoke. 
And just like that, your reunion is over. 
Home. You need to go home. Leave, leave, leave, because something is bound to be going down upstai—
A thud faintly shoots out into the staircase, and you spin around again in your chair, eyes snapping to the ceiling. 
Shit. 
Even though you’re on high alert, you realize with a quick sweep that no one else is noticing. Or moving. Or even paying attention to anything else but their own company. 
Does no one else care about the commotion? Do hits happen in this area that often? 
Mind running, you can’t decide what to do. Because even though Yoongi’s guys have plenty of weapons, he clearly had nothing since he needed to borrow your damn eating utensils.
Another crash rains dust on conversations around your shoulders, causing you to look up one last time. 
Go home, go home, go home. In what universe would Yoongi himself ever need your help here? 
With one more look at your noodles, you curl your lips before biting a side. 
Already yelling at yourself for choosing to book it towards the back staircase. 
Shit shit shit this is so stupid. This is probably the worst decision you’re gonna make in your life.
But your gut is churning thinking about Yoongi. Even a seasoned swordsman needs expertise to wield mere chopsticks and win. 
Fuck, if you succeeded in your search today, you probably could’ve been a little more useful. 
Swiping your own set of red from a nearby cup, you hightail it up, slowing as you round a corner and immediately hear multiple clangs and scuffles beyond the last turn.
Stop. You can go back. You can still turn around and go home.
An inhale.
Your feet propel you up and into a dark hall. As you slowly slide along the wall, your gut churns and churns. At a bang, you crouch with a skipped beat of your heart.
This is really, really dumb. But you can’t stop yourself and you have no clue why.
Nothing happens around you. So you keep going. With each careful slide of your foot, you get closer and closer to the noise.
Approaching the corner, you very slowly stick your head out for a peek.
And it’s pure commotion. Pure chaos. Holy shit, what is going on? 
Fuck, there’s already a body lying limp on the floor meters away—
Your chopsticks. You wanna hurl.
But a man flies out of a room ahead before he grips and wrestles with another, and you reel yourself back to avoid being seen by either one.
Where is Yoongi? Is he okay? Did he leave already?
You give one more peek, scanning the long raucous corridor as swift as you can to see any sign of.. Mint.
He’s still here. How’s he just walking so nonchalant as his crew fucks shit up? Crap, he just went into a room and out of sight. 
“Where’d they go?”
“Upstairs!”
Fuck, that was in the restaurant! Get up get up you have no choice but to hide now. 
With pounding steps, you rush forward and book it, entering a large room to dive behind some steel shelving and large, woven baskets right as more Dragons come in behind with fists clenched.
Breathe. Steady. Calm the fuck down.
The grunts rush to the hallway to join the fray, and you wait in the now pungent solitude of your room. With only a still body to accompany you. 
What do you do? What even can you do? 
Just as nerves grip your stomach like a vice, Yoongi strides into the open area, heading right for the exit and not even sparing his kill a glance. 
Go. Go now. Why can’t you move? Why aren’t your hands letting go of your cold confinement? It smells like death and blood and you need to leave with the only person you know—or don’t—so why can’t your feet just fucking—
Someone else slithers into the room. A man in brown with a knife. A knife, a knife, a knife he’s getting faster and Yoongi doesn’t hear him the guy is too quiet fuck! “Yoongi!” 
It all happens before your brain can paint the bloody picture. Shooting out from your hiding spot, you race towards the assassin, slamming into their lanky build just in time.  
Both of you topple to the ground, your target roaring in pain and twisting like hell to fight back fuck you didn’t get him how you needed to he’s got you—
Pain erupts in your hip as you’re grabbed, the room spinning as you’re thrown to the side and your ear hitting concrete right before chopsticks ping down. Thinking quick, you knee the guy as hard as you can, scrambling to finish the job because if you don’t, you’re gone gone gone.
“Bitch!” Your opponent clutches your shirt right as you reach for the nearest red pair, seizing your throat right as you grip and swing them around to stab the other side of his neck with a yell.
Luckiest timing of your life. 
“Hng!” Fuck, he’s still holding down hard and choking, choking, squeezing. “Fuck you!” 
Fight back. Keep the weapon inside he’s too strong finish him finish him. 
Darkness. Ink drops in water. Your vision taints as your grip loosens, and you can only hope that Yoongi got away safe. He had to. At least you… Were able to do… 
This one thing… 
Oxygen and life rush back into your lungs, color burning through your esophagus as you gasp for sweet sweet air. Right as you come to, all you witness is the heavy heel of a boot twisting the forearm latched onto you. 
And when the shoe leaves your vision. Lifeless eyes stare back.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck that was close. Oh god. You actually did it. Oh fuck. 
Coughing, you rush up as you get tugged and pulled right against chains and embroidery, your ears ringing with a gravelly command and glass breaking in the nearby corridor,
“Don’t say my fuckin’ name so loud.” 
“Excuse me?” 
Yoongi roughly lets you go before pinning you with pure anger. Not to say thank you. Not to tell you any words of gratitude at all. The only other thing he finds the need to say is simply, 
“You shouldn’t be up here.” 
What the fuck. You just murdered someone for him and this is all you get? Eyes welling, you feel your body slick and sticky with crimson when you turn, coughing and spitting out regret before you wheeze, wheeze, wheeze, “That’s—that’s all you have to say?” 
Dread swirls around your stomach like poison.
But the sternness from before completely vanishes as Yoongi lifts your chin. His eyes scan your throat and chest, and you rip your head away from his touch because he is not excused just yet. 
“It’s not mine,” you snap, knowing exactly what he’s looking for and what you must look like to him. Dirty. Gross. Certainly a far image from the girl selling tangerines.
But your face is gently held again, and somehow this softer turn carries more strength to swivel you forward. 
Why is Yoongi still looking? Now he’s holding your gaze as if he’s never seen you before. What’s that about? You’re still the same, the same, the same.
…Are you?
More crashes and shots are heard down the hall, and Yoongi snaps his head up in an instant. 
God, you smell. You reek. Your nose is tainted and your hands even more so. There’s no way he’s gonna have anything to do with you now. 
But you get the shock of the century when the man commands you to come along. “Let’s go.” 
Absolutely not. This is all you got in you for a lifetime. “What? No, no, no. No way, I’m going home.”
“And they’ll follow you the whole way back.” 
“I—I didn’t mean to—” 
Shots ring out before grunts barrel out into the short hallway. All of them piling out from crevasses and hidden passages. 
You give one more look at the two men now crumpled on the ground, bile rising up and threatening to spill. 
“Tough shit, princess. You did, now live with it.” 
Live with it. How poetic. 
You were protecting him. You did what you had to do. But you have blood on your hands again and now Yoongi will see you as something else besides a fucking street vendor. 
“Are you coming or not?”
You’re gonna puke your guts out.
With a stilted cry, you bend to snatch your weapons up yet again—gagging at the squelches and much deeper red—before following Yoongi’s long steps. 
Your hands. They’re shaking so bad you can’t even pocket the chopsticks properly. But you finally get them down, crushing your palms and squeezing just to stop them from rattling. 
When you wait behind Yoongi checking the corner, you turn around to make sure you aren’t being followed. And seeing the hallway still a moving mass of broken glass and hard swings, you think you’re safe. 
The stairs feel so different on the way down. Is that because you feel completely changed? There’s no coming back from this. Another side of you died right alongside those two people upstairs. 
No time to think about that. You have to follow his lead. And he’s slowing down why is he slowing down? 
Oh. Normal. Be normal to not garner suspicion. You have to do the same. 
Wait. You can’t go down there with a shirt full of stained evidence! Grabbing him and pulling back, you whisper, “Yoongi—”
His growl is so fierce your head spins, “What the fuck did I say about my n—”
“My clothes,” you panic. “I can’t.” 
Yoongi gives you a quick look before gripping the duffle strap. Brows lowered, he grits out while dumping it, “Lose the shirt.” 
“What?” 
“Do it.” 
“Where’d he go?”
“It’s gone!”
Your heads snap up before you lock eyes. And he doesn’t need to say anything to show you what he’s thinking behind those minted bangs.
As you hastily strip, your brain works in weird ways. Instead of processing how you very much need to hurry the fuck up, you lament the bra of choice today. And how sweaty you look. Because of course those are your thoughts of choice right now. 
Something’s dumped on you before your shirt hits the ground, and you think about its warmth before you realize exactly what’s on your shoulders. “You sure?” 
He’s already heading down. Oh god. You’re really putting this on shit shit shit. 
You’re quick to slip into the material before checking for your chopsticks, rushing down the rest of the stairs to meet him. Nerves firing on all cylinders, you follow Yoongi out of the restaurant with a single, disturbing thought. 
This is going too well. 
But you’re passing tables, you’re walking by the fish display, don’t fucking sob you’re out in the street now. 
Relax. You’re walking. His white tee is flawless and people have no clue you left a bloody shirt on a stairwell. Don’t fucking cry.
But suddenly.
Shouting erupts behind you both, just as a cop car rolls past the restaurant only to get surrounded. 
And with one look back, your brain freezes. Right before Yoongi sounds a little too delighted to say something so foreboding,
“Looks like you’re in it now.”
Adrenaline spikes as you burst into motion. Hot summer air stings your lungs as legs propel you forward, with nothing in sight except for your partner in high crime. 
Yoongi’s right. 
You’re in it now. 
And just like the delinquents that you despise, the two of you both kick up dust on the run. 
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You’re really doing this. 
Holy shit, you’re really doing this and there’s no waking up, no jolting awake, no pinching yourself to know that it’s all a dream. The only thing pinching is your sides, fresh stings of karma with each heavy footstep through crowded streets, buildings, levels, wherever the fuck you go. 
At least Yoongi is commanding as he leads you through the city—clearly from a heap of experience. Though rattled, you follow him with more adrenaline than questions. Because running is all you know. Run, run, run, escaping is your only objective and you cannot let up even once.
Your feet pelt down a staircase before you leap onto a disposal bin, impact denting as you follow Yoongi’s long strides across the colorful tops. Shouts and metal pings echo behind you as your chasers catch up, and you grit your teeth so hard they rattle as you jump to alley ground. “Fuck!”
Searing, searing pain rushes through your legs as you twist and wind through busy corridors, squeezing into the gaps Yoongi finds as he barrels in front. 
“Get back here!” 
“You fuckers!”
Who’s following you? Are they even Crane? You don’t see a shred of white on their clothes at all so are they working for some random guy Yoongi stole from?
When you watch him turn at the shouting, all thoughts vanish as your gut churns. 
He’s grinning.
You just killed someone for him. And he probably has more blood on his hands than you can imagine. 
And he’s… enjoying this? 
You feel sick, mind blazing with a million red warning signs. How could you ever have had feelings for h—
You bounce off a passerby as you run, grunting at the sudden pain in your shoulder when another person rams into your back and topples you over, dirt scraping into your palms and knees. 
Shit shit shit it’s so dusty on the ground and all you see are traveling shoes where are you? Where is he did he leave did he even see you fall? It’s too condensed here there’s no way he’s not taking the next chance to disappear.
Forget all of that, they’re coming. The chasers are coming and you see them see you down get up get up get up what the fuck get up now.
Ripping out a groan, you rush to your feet as soon as someone swoops in, bashing someone right behind you with someone’s crate of fruit. 
Yoongi? He waited for you?
“Go!” 
Both of you hightail it with you now in the lead, and your eyes buzz as you slip through holes in the crowd. Left, left, right, around, left again, between. 
An intersection ahead. Yes. Lose everyone in the vehicle traffic or hitch a ride with a stranger. Fascinating how the survival tactics that spawn from your block develop in real time on the run.
Almost there, almost there, almost there—fuck! 
Whiffing in front of your nose, a metal weapon smacks the ground at your toes. 
Flailing, you dodge the next swing, ducking before you see a black duffle smack your assailant in the face. 
Keep going. Finish him and get away. As Yoongi shifts left, you lunge forward, sending a swift punch to the guy’s ribs that hurt like hell goddamn oh fuck someone brought a knife!
“Yoongi!” Just as the surrounding civilians yell and clear out, you rush toward his aid before you’re tackled, air whooshing out of your lungs as your back pummels into gravel. Fuck fuck fuck this masked woman also has a dagger. A thick one. Don’t let her win don’t let her win hold on for dear fucking life. 
Did you think you’d find yourself in a grudge match to keep metal from sinking into your chest today? No. Ever? Also no. 
Your arms are shaking. Shots ring out. Sweat is your enemy. The street is in uproar. Where’s Yoongi did he hear you? Fuck, the metal tip is pricking you now this is— 
Mercifully, your attacker yelps as something slams into her side, dark brown clothes crumpling before you’re hoisted upward and dragged back into the crowd. 
“Let me go or I’ll kick your ass—”
“You good?” 
Oh, it’s Yoongi. Again. Okay. Eyes swirling, you lock onto the gun held flush in his other hand before you nod. “I—I think so—”
“Then keep up.” 
Winding between people, you’re only focused on getting away. But when you catch glimpses of him, he’s back to his glint. He’s exhilarated.
If only you were both doing anything else. If only you weren’t so queasy and guilty and loathing of your own self.
Right as you finally burst into bustling traffic, Yoongi boldly stops a taxi at its hood, motioning you to follow him inside. 
Shocked but head reeling, you open the door closest to your sweaty legs and slide in. 
And before you can even greet the shouting driver, Yoongi pulls you to his side and rushes something out in your ear, 
“Kiss me.” 
“I said get out!” 
“What?” 
“Come here.” 
You’ve kissed before. Not many times, but enough to know that this man knows what the fuck he’s doing because you feel like your soul just abandoned you to exist in this car forever. You don’t know why this is happening or where this came from, but his lips feel as soft as his name and as deadly as the gun he’s pulling on your driver—
“Han Station,” he drawls, halting time and space. “Or your papers are burned by morning.” 
Oh. 
You were just… Oh. 
Lips puffed and head swirling, you sit frozen in your spot, marinating in the realization that the best kiss of your life was a mere distraction. And as you watch Yoongi keep his aim straight, you assume he probably didn’t even think much of it, either. 
“…I thought you looked familiar,” the driver slowly grits, hands gripping his wheel before he shakes his head. “You’re a little far from home.”
You think that’s all he’s gonna say. But his eyes are sharp in the rear view mirror, knowing a gun is pointed straight at his dome. “Aren’t you.”
What is he getting at you need to leave fast—
“Agust.” 
…Huh? 
Agust? 
This is the first time you feel a heartbeat against your arm, and you hold a breath as Yoongi tightens his fingers on the gun. 
When he doesn’t reply, the car fills to the brim with tension, and you feel crushed by its liquid weight. 
Don’t you have to go? Aren’t you in a chase? Are you getting a little too hot?
When you go to slide to your own side of the car for some space, the hand around your shoulder squeezes. 
And you’re more confused, exhausted, and thrown off than ever. 
“Han Station,” is all Yoongi—Agust?—repeats, voice ice. “Now.”
To which the taxi driver stares, standing his ground until he breaks eye contact first to obey. 
“Fuckin’ Dragons and their useless whores.”
Oh, fuck that. 
Before you can lunge forward to outright strangle the man, Yoongi does something that has your eyes magnifying into saucers and hands shooting up to your mouth.
He fires the gun straight at the man’s thigh, yelps leaving both the driver's throat and yours holy fuck! 
“You bastard—”
“You’ll live. Drive.”
“Fucking—fuck!”
The car shifts through traffic, swerving left and right and cutting off slower vehicles. When force smushes you closer into Yoongi’s side, you can’t help but notice how fit he is, and how calm he’s being despite the whole chase. Despite that spike in adrenaline. Despite blowing a hole in a stranger’s leg for six words.
He also feels really, really good against your side, but you can’t let that matter anytime soon. There’s absolutely no way you can let this dangerous man in, especially after this entire nightmare of a day. 
So you swallow, trying to compartmentalize because you’ll reach insanity if you don’t.
Does anyone out there know you took a life minutes ago? Or hours ago? You just kissed a criminal five and a half minutes ago. Would they care about that, too?
The window is suddenly much more interesting than any of your wandering, slingshot thoughts. 
Wait. It’s very pretty in this area, and you finally can tell some semblance of where you are. Because you only know of one part of the city that looks like this, and it’s deep in Crane territory. 
Did you both really make it this far? 
Carefully tended to, it’s a lot greener on the sidewalks, and more open on the roads. And it’s on one of these roads that you finally notice the sunset, gold accents shining on sleek street signs and the tops of buildings that seem much more at rest than you do. 
Rest. Sleep. Home. 
With the luck you’re having, it would be a miracle and a half to reach even one of the three. 
Did you get followed? You don’t know how much longer you can run, so you really fucking hope not. 
“Almost there,” Yoongi whispers, voice scratching your ear in the worst and best ways. “When we get out, move your ass.” 
When you watch the wary, heavy breathing driver in his rear view mirror, you bite out, “I know how to get out of a car, thanks.” 
“Just listen to me.”
“Why?”
“Do you trust me?” 
“No.” 
That came out quicker than you could stop it. But Yoongi only lets silence come between you before he squeezes your shoulder. When he speaks, you can hear how carved out his smirk is without even seeing it, 
“Good girl.”
And you spoke the truth. It wouldn’t have come out so fast if it weren’t. But you know to at least follow his advice here because he’s kept you alive thus far. He didn’t need to drag you out and protect you the whole way, so it’s not like he would steer you wrong here. Right? 
Right? 
“Here,” Yoongi orders before the car slows to a stop. 
That wasn’t so bad. You can get out normally now so why did Yoongi say—
Right as your foot hits ground, the taxi peels out, forcing you to throw yourself out of the side before the rest of your body leaves with it. 
Fucking hell that hurt what the fuck was that for? 
Dirt and dust coats your tongue before you do anything to spit it out. Saliva rushes from your glands as you cough and hack, all while feeling every muscle group in your body begging to not stand up. 
But you feel rough, commanding hands on your arms. “You good?”
“Yeah—”
“Then get up. Get up.”
Straining and wincing like hell, you follow Yoongi’s lead yet again. Because you hear cars rolling up with bad intentions and that means you have to sprint again. 
What the fuck did Yoongi steal? And how the hell are these guys still on your tail? Their resources have got to be as good as Crane’s and yet, they don’t feel the same at all. 
You’re hobbling, but you’re going. You’re rushing. You’re going to get through this alive. 
Instead of heading into the underground, you find yourself ascending a flight of steps. Rumbles and rattles hit your ears as you realize exactly what kind of station this is—one you haven’t seen anywhere in your district. 
Han Station is a floating railway? 
Holy shit, where are you?
Yoongi skids around a corner before you plant hard to stop yourself, only to see him clash with someone before something connects right with your stomach, and you crumple before you feel a solid hit to your head. 
Oh.
The world spins and moves as you hear vibrations, slowed sounds that could be shouts. Gunshots? Or maybe songs? You don’t truly know but your head is aching—
Your arm rushes up to block something before your body follows, and you scream before gripping whatever you can and flipping a whole body forward. 
Reality crashes back into your ears as you snap out of your head. 
You haven’t had to do that maneuver in forever. Was muscle memory more than enough?
“Come on!”
Go. Go, follow him, both of you need to get to the rail shit it’s leaving!
The blaring reverberates through the air, pinging off metal and wheels screeching on the track lines as you bolt for the open doors.
Mid-stride, Yoongi swings to look at the people barreling up the stairs. “One more time: do you trust me?”
“No!”
“Good”—his hands grip your waist—“Jump!”
Head empty, you leap onto the railcar right as it starts to pick up speed, and you watch in horror as Yoongi empties his clip behind him until he can’t anymore. 
“Yoo—” Fuck, what was his name? He seems to not prefer the one you call him and that has to be for good reason. What was it?
You’re leaving. He’s gritting his teeth while hitting the bottom of his gun but he needs to get up! What was his fucking name! 
“Agust!” 
Yoongi finally whips his head around, dashing to the end of the train and straining to carry the duffle. 
He needs to launch it or leave it behind. There’s no way he’s not being weighed down so hard. “Here!” you yell, knowing that look is only reserved for people he doesn’t want to trust. It’s normal. But it still stings. “Hurry up!”
After one more second, he swings it around and flings, leaping onto the side handrail after you get blasted by the bag holy fuck that hurt. 
He was running with this the whole time? No wonder his shoulders are so cut this is heavy.
Straining, you peek out into the wind, seeing Yoongi holding on and scooting along thin steprails towards your awaiting hands.
Shit, this is dangerous. Buildings and the city below fly by, and a parallel train whooshes and roars past as you finally tug him inside with shaky wheezes.
Just like that.
You made it out.
What the fuck. You did it. No one else was able to get onto the train. You’re safe for now. 
Finally, finally, finally able to breathe. 
But goddamn, you both stand out like blood on a blank page.
As you struggle to fully stand, you notice everyone else on the train—well-kept, carrying themselves in sleek linens and lush outfits, hair done beautifully and to perfection. 
Which makes it unsurprising that plenty of them regard the pair of you with suspicion and morbid curiosity. While intrigue covers the one with an unfairly handsome face, zings of jealousy and judgment fire your way. 
You feel so out of place. You are so out of place. But that doesn’t give anyone the right to look at you like filth. The words from the taxi driver pierce your brain again, and you feel rage and pain bubble up to your tongue,
“Anyone got something they wanna sa—”
But Yoongi does something that has your brain chemistry altering because he casually bends a knee in front of you while holding the top rail, forcing you back into the side of the train car and only seeing his jewelry. 
When your eyes snap to his, he regards you before peering outside. “Stop,” he mutters. “You're causing a scene.”
“Me?” Oh, he has some nerve. “What did I do, you’re the one—”
“Quiet.”
Ridiculous. Huffing, you let disagreement tug your lips while joining him in watching the world go by. 
Realizing with a pang that you are probably never getting back home. You’re never gonna see your favorite neighbor with his woks and caterpillar eyebrows. All the produce you were planning to sell will only succumb to mold and time. 
Your tangerines… 
When a tear falls, it glints in your reflection before quickly being swiped away. 
No. Don’t do any of that here where people can see—where he can see. No one will know what the hell you just went through today. Be normal, strong, normal. 
The ride lasts a little longer, with people coming and going during each stop. When there are seats open, neither you nor Yoongi move to take them. The two of you stay glued where you stand.
Silent, together, and covered in hidden blood.
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The next stop seems to be in a quieter sector of the city. All around you are buildings you’ve never seen before stretching miles into the sky, and the streets are so neatly paved you’re convinced they’re fake. 
“This is us,” Yoongi whispers, hand guiding your hip to move toward the doors.
Skin scorching under his touch, you can only nod.
Where are you now? Where are you getting off? 
You both exit the train with a few others, and you watch with heightened curiosity as they carry satchels and wear shoes that look horribly uncomfortable. As you move down the steps, you keep craning your neck to take everything in, and more questions fill your head than answers. 
But the truth remains even as you and Yoongi stop in front of your destination.
You cannot run anymore. Even if more of whoever those guys were showed up, you may just choose to sit down instead of take another stride. Besides, your body is still running a thousand steps even though you haven’t moved since getting on the train anyway. After today, the chase may never stop.
“We’ll stay here.” 
We? Stay? 
“Here? This place is…” You keep peering up and up, the top of the building so high your neck hurts. It’s so foreign and magical your only adjective is a quiet, “Nice.” 
At your side, Yoongi seems annoyed when he asks, “Expect something different?” 
“Yeah, like… I dunno, a secret lair or something.” 
Air whooshes from his nostrils, but there’s a stark absence of a smile. Looking up at the building, too, he explains something that you’ve never heard of before,
“We’re in a grey zone. No one will follow us here.” 
Right. Because that somehow makes sense to regular civilians like you. Because you are one, are one, are one. “Allegedly,” you scoff, not knowing what to believe anymore.  
Yoongi pauses before heading up, and his agreement makes you look. “Allegedly.” 
Mm. 
After taking the tiny steps to the entrance, you wonder what he must be thinking bringing your haphazard look in tow. 
Because he could’ve left you behind at any point in time. But he didn’t. What does that mean? Why is he keeping you alive and at his side?
While you’re taking in the opulent and vast lobby, Yoongi guides you toward the front desk, shifting the duffle on his shoulder. 
This place is gorgeous. Nothing like you’ve ever seen. How were they able to install a waterfall in a building? What kind of money does this so-called grey zone have? 
Yoongi nods toward the concierge, who quickly nods back and scurries away and into a room.
If you weren’t so tired, you could probably make something of that exchange. But you are very much exhausted so frankly, you don’t give a shit right now. 
Although. You do give a shit about the fingers suddenly interlacing with your own. As your hand is held, you shoot your best client a look so potent he stares back. “What now,” you snip, question low and dripping with distrust. 
Unfazed, Yoongi slowly pulls you into his side, a steady hand coming up to wrap around your tired hips. So nonchalant, so lax, so confusing as he murmurs,
“Just wanted to.”
Your heart trips into the next beat.
On sore legs, you wait until the concierge comes back with a key, eyes swiping over you as if they finally noticed your existence. Which seems to perplex them as they hand over the metal device.
And Yoongi just takes it, not a word said before he directs you across the lobby to what look like elevators.
Even these look fancy as fuck. Wherever you are and whatever this place is, you feel even more out of place than on that judgy train. 
A hotel worker bows before he motions to the opening doors. “Nice to see you again,” he murmurs to the ground, seemingly expecting the same non-response given to the front desk. “Would you like the usual, Mister—” 
“No,” Yoongi clips him off. “Not this time.” 
“Understood.” 
Brows pinched, you’re starting to get a weird feeling. 
How does everyone know Yoongi so well here? He said this was a grey zone, which you’d think would be akin to a neutral or non-threatening one. So why does it feel like he’s got this area on lock? Who exactly are you getting into an elevator with? 
…Who exactly did you save? 
Yoongi was right when he said you’re in it now. But faced with more questions surrounding him than anything or anyone else, you’re starting to wonder what pit of hell you dropped yourself into. 
Especially after catching the look of utter panic from the serviceman. 
Right before sliding doors shut the world out. 
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⟶ what do we feel! | 🥢 join the taglist 🥢 | masterlist
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a/n: thank you all for being so patient as i work through this! it was originally supposed to be a oneshot, but i like, need characters to get to know and learn about one another before heading into spice lmao. I NEED PLOT OK. THERE WILL BE LOTS OF SMUT I PROMISE DSHFKDSF we just gotta get through the slow burn first >:)) a/n 2: if there's something you liked about this or a line/scene/whatever thing you enjoyed, feel free to let me know! feedback is never expected, but always appreciated. if the interest level is high, that adds motivation like no other. thank you all for reading! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ minted masterlist
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midnightcrw · 7 months
Text
Provocative
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Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader
Summary: Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he sees a good friend he hasn't seen in a long time.
Warnings: Swearing, mention of discrimination (this is fluff, by the way)
a/n: This is my first time writing for Alastor and anything related to the Hazbin Hotel, so I hope you all will like it. Please tell me if there's anything in this one shot that might offend anyone, and I'll do my best to change it or clarify my thought process.
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Charlie was walking around in circles because of the fact that her dad was going to come over to the hazbin hotel for the first time.
And while everyone seemed quite unbothered, she couldn't calm down while Vaggie was currently helping Sir Pentious put up the decorations.
"You have been walking around in circles for the last fifteen minutes, darling," your voice was heard as you put a hand on Charlie's shoulder.
She stopped abruptly as she felt the weight on her shoulder and turned her head slightly to look into your eyes, "It's just been a while since I've seen him and I really want this to go well."
Her usual optimistic tone was much less energetic and confident as she started to look around, clearly avoiding your eyes.
You let out a sigh, a small smile finding its way to your lips as you cupped her chin between your thumb and forefinger, "There's nothing to panic about. I'm sure everything will go perfectly."
Your words seemed to calm the blonde down a bit as she gave you a slight nod, "I hope you're right," she muttered as you let go of her chin.
With that, Charlie made her way over to Vaggie to look at the decorations she had put up with Sir Pentious.
You just smiled at the sight when you suddenly heard a low static behind you, "She's been all over the place since the call," Alastor mused, his sharp grin never leaving his face.
Rolling your eyes at him, you opened your mouth to speak, "Let her be, she's trying her best."
"Oh, I know, my dear. I want the best for Charlie too," Alastor's words made you shake your head, knowing there was more to it, but even with you, he wasn't eager to share that information.
If you had known that you would be bound to him even in hell, you would have run as fast as you could in your mortal life.
But your 'lovely' husband had a way with words even then. Even if the two of you didn't marry for love, there was definitely something there.
Back in New Orleans, Alastor had a hard time because he was half Creole. He was always at a disadvantage because he did not fit into the standard, even though he tried his best to somehow blend in.
But radio was really the perfect solution and a passion of his. It even helped him because no one saw his face and only had to listen to his voice, which even he had forced to sound different, his usual deep tone becoming much higher to fit into the society.
And once he became famous, he even started to change his appearance. His usually dark brown wavy hair was straightened by him, while he also started to dress like the rest of the crowd.
But even then it never seemed to be enough. His tan complexion was still striking to some, as people began to gossip about him from time to time.
The prejudices against him never stopped, as people even started to question him because he wasn't married, making him out to be a cruel man who couldn't even find love, and that's where you came in, to get rid of at least one of the many talked about topics about him. At least then the people of New Orleans would know that Alastor really was a lovable man.
You really couldn't have cared less about the standards and the gossip that had made its way when Alastor started to pursue you back then. Even though he did not even reveal his intentions at first, you could still tell that there was more to it than just love in itself.
And even after he revealed his true intention behind a marriage, you accepted it. You didn't really have anything to lose anyway, and his charming words seemed to sway you somehow.
However, getting married and playing the role of a happily married couple had been a struggle. Both of you being at each other's throats, but never really being able to truly hate each other, was definitely odd.
But leaving that aside for now, there were more important matters at hand as you let go of your thoughts of the past.
"Just don't ruin this for her," your stern tone was obvious and with that you went over to help Niffty with cleaning up.
A few minutes passed and everything seemed to be perfect now, but not for Charlie.
"What if he hates the way the hotel looks?" She asked herself, her hands pulling tightly on her hair.
"He won't. You don't have to worry. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you at all," Vaggie said in a reassuring voice as she put an arm around her girlfriend's shoulder and gave her a small kiss on the forehead.
That little gesture made Charlie blush as she leaned against Vaggie, trying to calm herself, and when she felt ready, she made her way to the door.
"Okay everyone, it's showtime!" She said with a smile on her face, looking at everyone as the door was suddenly flung open by Lucifer, who said his daughters name and hugged her tightly.
Standing near the door, Alastor looked at the two of them with a crazy glint in his eyes and his never-ending smile showing his teeth.
And that's when you knew that this wasn't going to end well.
As Lucifer looked around the hotel, Alastor didn't seem happy at all, angry at the fact that he was being ignored.
"It's got a lot of character... What in the unholy hell is that?" Lucifer asked in a disbelieving tone, as a frown made its way onto his face.
Already knowing that Alastor wasn't going to hold back now, you let out a heavy sigh as you rubbed your temple.
"Just some of the renovations we had done. Adds a bit of color, don't you think?" Your husband's voice was heard as Lucifer then proceeded to ask who he even was.
And with the blink of an eye, Alastor is now at Lucifer's side. "I'm Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you, sir. Quite a pleasure," he replied as he wiped his hand on his coat.
You were about to slam your head against the wall when you felt someone tugging at your dress. "He's a bad boy," Niffty said in an excited tone, staring at the King of Hell while you just felt a shiver run down your spine in disgust at your friend being lusted upon.
"You might have heard of me from my radio broadcast," Alastor said with a sinister grin on his face as he held his microphone. Knowing him, he loves to be acknowledged and it didn't look like Lucifer was going to give him any of that.
"Nope, I guess that's why Charlie called it the Hazbin Hotel," Lucifer said, emphasizing the 'haz'.
"Hahaha! It was actually my idea!"
"Hahaha! Well, it's not very clever!"
"Haha! Fuck you!"
Hearing that, you immediately made your way to Alastor as you and Charlie interrupted them, earning a look of shock from Lucifer.
"Is it really you?" Lucifer asked, his eyes wide as he looked at you. And before you could even answer, he threw himself at you, nearly crushing you to a second death and leaving you breathless.
"It's been years!" The King of Hell shouted as he let go of you to examine your face. You let out a chuckle, "It has indeed been a long time."
The interaction between the two of you naturally caught everyone's attention, as they all had a confused look on their faces, except for Alastor, who seemed to be losing his patience by the second.
Not even letting you two continue reminiscing, Alastor put an arm around your waist, causing you to gasp in surprise, as he wasn't usually the one to show off your relationship, especially to Overlords and anyone above that position.
"From where do you know him, my love?" Alastor's static-like voice was heard loud and clear as he pulled you even closer.
Before you could answer, Lucifer interrupted. "My love?!" He asked in disbelief and disgust.
"Oh, yes. 'My love,' the beautiful woman I'm so smitten by," Alastor was really putting on a show as he even planted a small kiss on your temple.
Your arm made its way around your husband's back as you pinched his waist in annoyance, eliciting a small static screech from Alastor.
"You really have some nerve, don't you?" you whispered in a caustic tone as your face came closer to his, wanting only him to hear it.
But even with that, the man dressed in red didn't shy away to take it completely somewhere else, "Just a few minutes, my darling. Then we'll have some time alone. Oh, and how she loves it, almost shameless, isn't she?" Alastor went on talking while you cursed him in your head.
You knew he was only doing it to rile Lucifer up, but of course the rest of them didn't know that.
"So Freaky Face does fuck," Angel Dust mused with a grin on his face as Husk slapped him on the back of the head.
"You sleep with that?" Lucifer asked in a disgusted tone as he ran towards you, pulling you out of Alastor's tight grip as he took a few steps away from your husband.
"Are you sure this is what you want for your future? Are you even sure it is worth of dating?" The short man asked you, almost even praying for you.
You apparently forgot to mention that you and Alastor have been married for decades, but you definitely wouldn't tell him that right now.
"It's a he," you simply replied.
"Well, I couldn't care less about it."
3K notes · View notes
steddielations · 5 months
Text
nsfw, actor eddie, hair and makeup artist steve, sub top
The downside of Eddie having a bunch of tattoos is that he has to sit in the makeup trailer longer than anyone else getting them covered, along with his character’s makeup. 
The plus side is he gets more time with Steve. 
They have this game. It started on Eddie’s first day. He was all wired up with nerves because it’s his first time in a lead role on a big production like this.
Every nightmare scenario of how he could screw up was running through his mind. He couldn’t sit still enough for Steve to give him the wavy hair and facial scars that his character has. 
Eddie kept apologizing and Steve was great about it. He asked Eddie about the heart on his arm with “Wayne” across the ribbon and distracted Eddie from over-practicing his lines, busy telling Steve all about his uncle who raised him and where they’re from. 
Eddie killed it on set that day, and pretty much every day since then. He loves acting, he loves fully immersing himself in the story he’s telling. This role is the biggest of his career so far, but it’s not even about that, he loves the character he’s playing, he meshes well with the director and has chemistry with his co-stars.
But Steve is his favorite part of this whole deal.
Eddie ran out of tattoos for their little game of telling Steve the story behind a different one every day. They never ran out of things to talk about though.
But Steve takes his job seriously and he’s good at it. He explained once why he likes doing this. It’s an art, getting the right look for the right character, or the right person, connecting with and taking care of whoever’s in his chair.
He explained it all while he was running his fingers through Eddie’s hair in those perfectly practiced strokes. Steve’s very good at his job, that’s why it feels so nice when he touches Eddie, even if it’s just work, because Steve cares about this. That’s why it’s easy for Eddie to be lulled into bliss when Steve’s fingers are so gentle on his scalp.
And, okay Eddie’s not made of stone, and he has eyes so he has a thing for Steve. A crush, but there’s a line there. This is work. They’re co-workers, despite how many pretty smiles and lingering looks are exchanged. Eddie won’t cross that line.
Until he does. 
It’s an accident. He never would have done it on purpose. 
Steve’s fingers are just so talented. Eddie’s eyes are closed, he was having another fit of nerves earlier so Steve took extra time with his hair. It put Eddie in a space so relaxed that he feels like he’s floating when Steve’s hand twists in his hair with the perfect amount of tension. It feels so intentional. The moan just slips out.
Eddie apologizes like crazy afterward, he feels terrible. Steve is a picture of professionalism, he’s charming and fun but he runs the makeup trailer like it's the navy and he takes his shit seriously and Eddie crossed a line. 
But Steve just shushes him, guides him to sit back in the chair and says it’s alright. 
Eddie blinks in disbelief but Steve just looks at him. 
It’s a look. 
A look that Eddie can’t stop thinking about for the rest of production.
It’s a look he sees again on his last day on set.
Eddie already shook everyone’s hands and said his goodbyes. He's just stopping by his trailer one last time to make sure the assistants got all his stuff cleared out. 
When he opens the door, his stomach flips, finding Steve waiting inside for him.
“You wrapped filming today,” Steve says in place of a greeting. But his smile and the way his arm is languidly stretched over the back of the couch is inviting. 
Something tells Eddie to lock the door before he goes over to sit next to Steve.
His gaze is even more intense up close. Eddie feels Steve’s eyes on him everywhere, like he’s just eating Eddie up. 
“Yeah, I did,” Eddie says, a tad nervous.
He doesn't want to make a move he can’t take back in case he’s wrong about why Steve’s in his trailer looking at him like that. He doesn’t want to be one of those douchebag movie stars that assumes everyone wants him and he has a free pass to hit on the crew. He’s sure Steve’s had enough of that bullshit.
“We don’t work together anymore,” Steve simply states.
“I know, it sucks,” Eddie laughs a bit sad because he really is, “Sorry if it’s weird to say, but I’m gonna miss you.”
Steve’s eyes shift between Eddie’s and then down to his lips, making his heart stutter in his chest.
“No it’s a good thing,” Steve says and Eddie’s brows knit in confusion. “It means I can do this finally.”
Eddie thinks he’s watching his daydreams play out the way Steve starts leaning in. 
It’s only real when Steve’s lips press softly to his.
Just once, so light, long enough for Eddie to catch on that it’s happening, then Steve pulls back before Eddie can reciprocate.
Steve chuckles faintly at the dramatic frown Eddie’s pulling. 
Then Steve’s hand cups Eddie’s cheek, his thumb stroking Eddie’s face as he tells him, “We can stop there and keep it professional and say our goodbyes. Or I can climb on your lap and give you something to remember me by.”
Eddie gulps. Steve’s offer and his silky voice and his perfect touch that Eddie’s already so addicted to is such a heady mix, making it hard to form words. “Yes, climb me— I mean, option B.”
“Yeah, honey, you want that?” God, Eddie always blushed hot when Steve called him that casually in the makeup trailer, now he’s melting hearing Steve say it like this. “Well, go on and take your pants off for me.”
It happens in a syrupy warm blur. Eddie sheds his jeans and underwear like he’s told and he’s rewarded with a gorgeously naked Steve Harrington in his lap. He’s allowed to touch, only after Steve has threaded his fingers through Eddie’s hair more reverently than any time before, like something precious in his hands, and kisses Eddie deep and hard. 
Then Eddie gets to nuzzle the chest hair that’s been driving him crazy peeking out of Steve’s shirt every time he leaned over. Eddie gets to touch Steve’s soft strong thighs, feeling the smatter of hair leading up to his ass that’s been driving Eddie even more insane trying not to stare at. Then he slips his fingers in and moans into Steve’s mouth when he feels the hard bulb of a plug nestled inside Steve.
Steve pulls back from the kiss, smiling and smearing his thumb over the spit on Eddie’s lips. “Yeah, I’m so ready for you, Eddie, baby, you have no idea.”
Eddie’s practically drooling watching Steve take out the plug and get a bottle of lube from between the cushions and a condom, oiling up his hand. When his fist wraps around Eddie’s cock, Eddie helplessly bucks into it, but Steve’s solid thighs pin him down. That makes his mind lust-foggy and his eyes flutter up at Steve, who bites his lip watching Eddie as he lines up to his hole.
“Mm... you know how bad I wanted you?” Steve sounds relieved as he sinks down on Eddie’s cock. “You know how bad I wanted to climb on your lap when you were sitting in my chair. You know how starry-eyed you get when you’re drifting? Just from me touching your hair, so fucking cute.”
Eddie’s just a mess of moans, Steve is so hot and tight around him. It’s too much with all the sweet praise to really comprehend that Steve knew all those times he was getting spacy.
“It’s so easy to put you down.” Steve’s breath comes harder, not letting Eddie move as he starts to roll his hips. “Such an actor, high strung all the time but that’s okay. It’s your passion. That’s sexy. Been dying to hold you down and ride you until you can’t think about anything but me, though.”
Eddie gasps out a groan when Steve tugs sharply on his hair, being right about everything that Eddie’s into so far. It’s no secret that Eddie’s intense, just a different kind of intensity in the bedroom than with his craft. 
Steve seems to get it, seems to know that Eddie needs everything hard and relentless with the way he’s bouncing on Eddie’s dick. He can feel the strength in Steve’s hips, dying to feel them fucking into him too, mouth watering at the sight of his thick cock jumping with all the movement.
“You’d let me tie you down and use you, hm?” Steve asks, drawing Eddie by the hair into a biting kiss that just barely grazes the surface of what Eddie would let Steve do to him. “I know. I’d fuck you up so good if we had time, baby.”
“Steve, holy shit,” Eddie practically sobs, fingers digging into Steve’s ass.
“You close, honey?” 
“Fuck, yeah.” 
Steve suddenly cups his face, just a tad rough and Eddie thought— hoped for one hot moment— that Steve was going to slap him. Just the thought is enough to make him do what he's supposed to, “Can I?” 
“Mh-hm just keep looking at me,” Steve strokes Eddie’s face as he circles his hips and takes Eddie deep. “Wanna see those pretty eyes when you come inside me.”
Eddie does as he’s told, his gaze falling half-shut as he lets go, spilling into the condom like he’s pumping Steve full.
It’s the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him, followed by the second hottest thing when Steve kisses his slack mouth as his warm heavy spurts of come land on Eddie’s belly.
While Eddie’s coming down, he lets Steve shift him onto the couch. He gets some tissues and then pulls Eddie to lie on his chest because of course he would, he’s Steve.
“Was that enough to remember me by when you get all big and famous?” Steve asks after a while, trailing his knuckles down Eddie’s bare arm.
Eddie looks up, seeing the first glimpse of hesitance in all of Steve’s practiced smoothness.
So Eddie leans in and assures him between pecks on his lips that slowly turn to smiles pressing together. “Nope, think we gotta do it again. And again. And again.” 
1K notes · View notes
snghnlvr · 7 months
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hope they caught us. / sim jaeyun
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jake x fem reader
synopsis: you knew that an academic girl like you shouldn’t be involved with a mischievous boy like jake, but both of you hide it well…right?
includes: 3.5k words | SUGGESTIVE | fluff too to balance it out lol | jake being a hot mischievous boy next door | but he’s smart! we love a hot, smart guy who thrives attention for y/n | jake’s hand placements⁉️ | y/n is shy but jake likes that | smooth talker jake yessir | LIP PIERCING JAKE !!
extra: hey bffs i’m back from my own grave 👯‍♀️ i lost motivation for a moment but it’s fine, ill try to post more~ | i’ve watched anne with an e so the language here is kind of similar to that style bc i love that fucking show and it inspired me 🤷‍♀️ | enhypen 🔛🔝 | jake has been so fine lately omfg | jake is a fucking simp!!!
likes, comments, and reposts are very much appreciated <3
[below the cut]
“j-jake-“ you pulled away from his grasp, heaving for air after that short yet everlasting kiss both of you shared secretly.
“you know we can’t be seen together.” as your flushed cheeks were on display in front of him, despise all of it, your mind was full of worries and anxiety of being caught by one of your family members or risking into a more intense situation in your bedroom.
“god, you’re so pretty whenever i look at you.” you scrunched your nose at your boyfriend’s compliment as he had a small smug smirk from your shy, silent reaction. you quickly turned your head towards the door, eyeing the hallway like a hawk to check if there was anyone near by and to your fortune, you can still hear the laughter and voices from the adults downstairs. you felt relieved, sighing softly.
your pondering thoughts became interrupted when you felt jake’s hand slither around your waist and pull you back again closer to him. you gasped, having both of your palms being in placed of his chest. he raised an eyebrow as you were taken aback from his gesture that was normal for him to do.
you were a blushing mess, however jake was smiling like a trickster- not giving a damn about what he’s doing to you, rather amused. you stared at him, observing how obnoxiously handsome he is with his hair being slightly disheveled up from your hands a few seconds ago, his hooded eyes gazing to yours and his lips being stained from your favorite shade of red from forbidden exchange that was yet mutual. the sight was scandalous but breathtaking.
you wanted to stare at him for hours, like a painting from a museum, trying to analyze every beautiful feature that earth has offered.
as the moonlight reflected your bodies from your small window, jake felt a breeze from it. the window’s open a tad bit. he sat down on the little space your window offered for sitting. he admired your wavy locks being swayed by the night air and your crimson cheeks being glowed from the radiance of the moon.
both of you smiled in delight, contented with each other’s presences.
jake. sim jake. adventurous yet devilish. elegant yet charming. sincere yet … complicated to deal with.
as you met the rebellious individual, you had no intentions of befriending jake. you didn’t like his trickster behavior in front of his friends, spreading unhumorous jokes, say the meanest things about teachers and most of all having an egotistical mind that one cannot top.
especially jake, for he is not only annoyingly attractive but naturally intelligent in his studies. maybe that’s why you didn’t entirely hate his guts.
your parents warned you about jake ever since he became not only your new classmate but your new neighbor. how innocent looks can cover their sinful stunts.
the way he showed himself to you at a family dinner at your place, he wore all black clothings including black ripped jeans along with multiple rings on his slim fingers and a lip piercing being proudly displayed on the right side of his face. in spite of it, you were surprised how someone your age can look daunting to look at. it somehow concerned your parents how one can allow their child to have piercings.
you would rather be the opposite. your closet would be filled with soft pastel colors. you have two piercings - the lobes. the ones where you would get at a young age and you never recall as you grow older but yet looking at jake’s, you thrived the curiosity of one.
but somehow, it ease your parents’ tension against him when he became a smooth talker and how he was gonna major engineering in college. you gawked at him, comparing how you were gonna take pre-med in college. just wondering how smart can he be?
and of course, as a shy girl you would always stray away in making new friends as if you wanted to be friends with jake. at a family gathering, you were the first one finished with your meal and went upstairs to do your unfinished homework. as a result, jake’s parents admired you for your hard work and dedication, wishing that their son can do the same instead of partying and socializing. not that there’s something wrong with having an extroverted personality, but something to prioritize with studies.
perhaps you did do it on purpose for the sake of your ego against jake and to maintain a good reputation as a daughter in your family.
unlucky enough, jake caught your act rather quickly. he would always scan you whenever you would converse with someone, how your lovely smile would appear, your glowy brown eyes shining under the gleaming light, how he had noticed you have small dimples on both sides of your cheek if your lips curved, how you scrunch your face when you receive a compliment, and your hair look looking smooth. he wonders what it’s like to touch it with his fingers and smell the scent that your hair obtains. there’s many more observations jake silently took note of.
all of his thoughts are genuine. about you. everything he thought about you are genuine.
he noticed whenever you would quickly glance at him and immediately look down at your plate as if you were scared. you would nibble your bottom lip and fiddle with your fingers on your lap whenever the adults mentioned jake to you.
needlessly to say as he took interest upon your first impression, he wanted you to be on his mind as well. in a way that makes him be stuck in your head for days and let curiosity rise to know him better.
the first step in his plan, to offer you to be his tutor. it surprised his parents, amazed at seeing a drastic change in their son after being in your house for one night. although he might in a higher level than you are, he wanted to find a way to know you better.
the night he was supposed to be partying with his friends, it was with books and you.
it was awkward. you felt awkward. your mind had awkward thoughts. the two of you in your room together in the midday of an autumn day. although your window was closed, your body was cold as you were cuddling yourself with a fluffy blanket of yours while sitting down.
next to you was jake, his uniform was a bit crumpled and his tie loosen up a bit after saying, “hope you don’t mind.” to you.
you noticed how his hair was a bit out of place, having the urge to fix it as the perfectionist you are.
however, despite looking tired from his classes, he seemed curiosity and his eyes would sparkle whenever something in your room caught his eye. like noticing your piano medals spread across in a shelf or picture you’ve kept when you were in art class in second grade pinned in your walls.
“so… what subject are you struggling with?” you were the first to break the awkward silence, eyes glancing at the emptiness of your desk table hoping that it would be filled with a textbook of any subject.
“statistics.” jake replied after, gulping in nervousness to make any wrong move on you. you raised an eyebrow.
“oh!” you straightened yourself in your chair, making your blanket slowly fall down. your shoulders from your cami top were exposed to jake, making him take into admiration of your beauty from your single lamp open.
you looked at jake. “the test scores were given back today right? can i see your test score so i can have an idea in what to teach you?” you smiled at jake as a reassurance message.
jake’s eyes widened a bit, taken aback from your sudden request. you noticed the moment of silence, thinking that jake is embarrassed to show you but jake was thinking of something else. he didn’t except nor imagine this scenario taking place. it was something that might make you mad.
“it’s okay, i’m here to teach you not to make fun of you, you can be honest with me.” you nodded at jake, seeing him zip his back bag open behind him. he scooted his chair closer to you.
now you were taken aback from the sudden gesture that he wasn’t even fazed. his eyes were glued onto his folder but your eyes were glued onto his side profile. under the luminous light, it complimented his features well that you questioned how handsome can this boy get?
“whatever you do, please don’t get mad.” he spoke in a low tone. you distracted yourself with another thoughts, nodding quickly so you wouldn’t get caught doing the unforgiven, staring.
you gawked once he opened his folder, with the numbers written in red marker. a big fat 100 smacks you on the face.
“w-what..” you were in disbelief at what you were saying. you were confused as to why he needed tutoring when he got a perfect score. you studied so hard he night before the exam to get a passing grade of 100, but it only resulted in an 80. even worse, jake’s grade wasn’t curved.
it made you be in a lost of thoughts as you glanced at jake. you noticed how his shoulders crouching down and avoiding eye contact like a guilty kid caught in the act.
maybe he can be your tutor instead which is humiliating to accept.
“you lied?” jake whined mentally at how devastated you sound. he was trying to quickly find a way to defend himself but what would he say instead of, i just wanted to know you better? sounds like a psychopath.
his lips trembled, “i-i .. okay look y/n..” you softened when you said your name with such delicacy and softness that it slowly made you forget being disappointed at him. “i just wanted to know you better, not as a neighbor but perhaps a friend since we will be often seeing each other a lot.. and i couldn’t find a way to approach to you without being weird..”
jake rambled with his words, slowly breathing in a fast pace after his chest was relieved from all of the stress he endured of defending himself. he looked at you with sad eyes, knowing that he disappointed you, that you probably never want to ever see him again and how you will snitch to him to your parents and they will forbid you to ever go near him again. but instead of crying your heart out and running away as he imagined, you instead chuckled. you were amused at his creative idea that you wonder how can he have such an idea like this one?
“you wanted to know me better?” you asked again, appreciating the thought that he wanted to be your friend but in an unusual way.
“yeah..” jake lowered his shoulder, whispering his reply to you. he looked at you chuckling at him.
“we can be friends jake, you didn’t have to do all of this.” you slightly rubbed your eye with your index finger, tired of giggling from jake. “i know.. i guess i was scared that i might look like a weird guy to you.” he embarrassingly scratched the back of his hair with his hand. his hair bounced against his flustered head.
“well you seem weird from the first impression but other than that, you seem harmless.. i hope.” you scrunched your nose unconsciously, making jake’s heart fluttered from the dimples appearing on your face whenever you do it.
the more days spent with jake under the act of “tutoring him”, it was him tutoring you instead since he told you that he enjoyed math and physics.
you thought he was a crazy scientist planning to ban away society from earth but the more time you witnessed him enjoy doing homework, you couldn’t help but think about him from time to time in appreciation that there’s someone who’s sincere as him. effortless and a natural.
during those moments, he did nothing but make you laugh and somehow make your heart flutter from his doings. it influenced your heart to be a mess. moments such as pulling your back bag from behind so there’s less weight and it’s lighter to walk with it while going home together from school, raise your blanket higher whenever it lowered from your body whenever both of you studied, and making your body electrocuted from the constant coincidental touches both of you share unknowingly.
although there would be times where jake pulled out his witty jokes and random comments to gravitate your focus onto him, he never forced anything onto you. he keeps his boundaries on alert and respected your feelings.
for instance, if he tried to make a conversation with you while you were studying and you tell him to be quiet, he would. immediately. he would slide the chair away from you, slightly sulking and try to find ways to occupy his bored self.
playing games on his phone is one thing but another would be exploring your room. jake found your art journal from middle school while snooping your drawers next to your bed.
or that one time he unfortunately came across your polka dot underwear lying freely on the floor when he eagerly and abruptly came upstairs after school as you tried beating him first to your room after screaming that you didn’t clean your room.
yeah that was the first time you yelled at him.
besides that, there would be times where you found jake adorable such as trying not to sleep whenever both of you were alone in one of each other’s room, whining in how a certain teacher sucks at their teaching job, and the crazy story times he experienced in his life. it made you realize how such a human can have so much impact in your life in less than a year?
nevertheless, you had to avoid each other at school to not let any rumours about the two of you knowing each other be spread across. jake completely understood as you didn’t want any drama from occurring in your final year of high school. there would be times where the both of you spared glances and smile at each other, missing each other’s presences deeply.
there was a moment where both of you laid in jake’s bed after studying, taking a small break before you return home for supper.
“y/n i’ve been thinking..” your heart thumped after hearing jake’s deep voice while closing your eyes. you never heard jake with this tone so it felt new and exciting.
you opened your eyes, turning your head to your right to face him as his stare was focused on the ceiling above him.
“i really like being with you. you made me realize how there’s always good in a bad place. and i really want to continue to be with you…” you sharped a breath when his picky was interlocking with yours.
he finally turned at you and for once you were grateful that he didn’t witness how red your cheeks were becoming. you were become a mess at how sparkly his eyes were and beautiful his lips can be. especially with that piercing of his.
this feeling was brand new to you. you’ve never been close to a boy before as you were merely focused in your education. boys weren’t prioritizing your mind.
“do you like being with me too?” jake asked, softly as if you were gonna be broken glass. he was being fragile in case he will do something wrong to you. he spoke with hesitation.
your mind was filled with memories that you spent with him from the past few months and you can’t but wanting to spend more memories with him.
“of course i do jake. every moment i spent with you, i feel free against the world that my parents created from me. you make me feel like it’s okay to step out of the comfort zone.” you smiled against your lips.
jake soon did the same as you continued to stare at each other with silence, having a significant spark in each other’s hearts for the first time.
“can i court you then?” jake’s hand slowly creep to yours, softly grasping it. you looked down, your heart pounding as if it was gonna explode from your rib cage.
god you never felt more in love than before. “i would like that jake..” you sheepishly smiled, letting go of his grasp to hide your shy smile but jake didn’t allow that.
jake slowly took the hand that was covering your beautiful smile, taking his hand with it. you were silent, eyeing his every action as jake kept staring at you.
your fingers were lingering the cold metal against his lips and it made your body shivered.
it was like he was having a different emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t identify but you felt safe when you were with him.
jake pecked your palm and held it against his cheek. he closed his eyes, processing the fact that you’re now his and he’s yours.
and the fact that you have to hide it from your parents for now.
and here you are currently, “a penny for your thoughts pretty girl?” jake swept a strain of hair behind your ear. you shook your head, lowering your head in his neck to hide your flushed cheeks.
you would always do this whenever you were feeling bashful from jake’s bold behavior and he loved it. that he was the only boy that made you be like this.
“it’s just you’re so beautiful when you look like that..” you whispered against his neck. jake raised both of his eyebrows, surprise at the sudden change in your usual personality. the position you were in, where jake was sitting down and you were standing above him.
his legs being comfortably spread out so each of his leg is next to yours it made you be in a pit of nervousness and jake took note of it. jake always love how expressive you are with your own eyes as if it was telling a story if your mouth goes mute upon seeing his figure wherever, whenever.
seeing him below you caused a spark in your heart as his eyes stared at you with devotion and attentiveness. jake noticed how your eyes changed when you kept staring at him with a specific look. a look that makes him even more whipped for you.
“really?” jake’s hands slowly crept towards your hips, lightly massaging it before he pulled you closer to him, causing you stumble lightly and sit on his lap thanks to jake’s strength in holding you still. your legs straddled his each side of his hip.
you looked down, realizing the situation you were in but jake kept holding his signature smirk as he was loving your reaction. he kept staring at you, swallowing the beauty you are in front of him. he didn’t want to get you go, thinking you are a dedicate feather ready to disappear if let go.
“well uhm,” you scoffed lightly, keeping a wide grin to disguise the apprehension from your face. as you were at a loss of words - not having a quick way to reply to jake, he took it as an opportunity to steal a kiss from your soft lips.
the sound echoed in your head, making your heart flutter listening to it. you closed your eyes again when jake stole another one.
you looked at him, filled with fond and passion. the silence aura, it spoke louder than words of how much you two love it each other.
you lightly placed your hand against jake’s resting on your hip comfortably with a small smile on your lips. you rubbed his fingers lightly.
“i love you.” as fragile as you sounded whispering the truth spilled from your lips, your heart never felt any less warmer with any other guy besides your secret boyfriend in front of you.
jake’s other hand, cradled your jaw. his thumb was slowly rubbing your cheek as his thoughts were filled of the words “i love you” multiple times. he swore he was gonna be a psychopath with you.
he didn’t say, but you felt it.
“i love you too my y/n.” both of your lips collided with a deep kiss after jake exchanged his romantic confession to you.
“y/n!” you immediately pulled out of the kiss, mentally whining that it ended too quick due to your mother calling you.
“yes?” you yelled back back as jake didn’t stop kissing you. he continued showcasing his love for you when his lips touched your neck, having little pecks as he was attached from your perfume scent you sprayed on before jake’s parents arrived to your home.
you were squirming on his lap as his lips kept going places on your neck. the sounds of his lips touching your skin made your head be distracted from your mother’s voice.
you tried stopping jake, pushing your palms against his chest to pull him off but jake insisted, grabbing both of your wrists with his one hand. you felt jake’s smirk onto your neck as you felt the tip of his tongue on your hot skin, making you gasp.
“jake’s parents are going home now! please send jake downstairs.” your mother yelled out. you sighed after you replied with okay to her, ignoring your heart trying to escape from your ribcage.
“jake..” you called him before he gets distracted with his desirable thoughts of wanting to continue in kissing you. you ruffled his hair to awake his senses but he has beat you to it.
“what a shame..” he scrunched his nose. “i’ll go now, i’ll definitely miss you.” jake pressed his lips one last time to your cheek before you removed yourself from him to get his things.
jake grabbed his black, round glasses from your table and the flannel he tossed in your bed the moment he entered to your room.
this time, you were observing your boyfriend picking up his possession, especially with the gray sweatpants and a white plain tank top. simple yet still handsome in every way and form. you can’t believe that jake is yours.
before jake left, his hand wrapped around your door knob indicating his hesitation. “hm?” you hummed in confusion when you turned your head to see jake stand still. you were curious of what was holding him back.
“i’ll be at your window in 10 minutes.” jake looked back. his eyes were gazing your figure in your bed. you looked up at him and his heart still flutters just as he first saw you.
you taken aback with this new gesture of his that you didn’t know what to say. “i-ill see you then.” you let out a smile. jake smiled back before quickly heading downstairs. you heard the mixture of his voice and you the adults downstairs as you fell sideways in your bed, making your head bounce on your pillow.
with his mischievous and brave acts with you, you’re certain that one day both of you will be caught but you never objected the idea of doing so.
taglist ; @iraisswiftie @s00buwu
1K notes · View notes
northopalshore · 3 days
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Rising signs in the Groom Persona Chart: Their features
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The rising sign in your GPC tells you about your future spouse's appearance, physical attributes and how they present themselves. Picture it like reading their birth chart lol.
In the signs & degrees:
♰ Aries (1°, 13°, 25°):
Your future spouse could have very angular features, perhaps their eyes could be sharp or very striking. They could have an eager look to them, or they could look like a kid in a way. You could think that they're impatient or they may like to rush things a lot. They could have a great physique or look very hot. They could wear a lot of gym clothes, tight fitting outfits or just athletic wear in general. Either a dork (Maximilian Goof aka Goofy's son lol) or a gym rat.
♰ Taurus (2°, 14°, 26°):
They will dress very comfortably, while still looking extravagant. They could look sophisticated and very, very attractive i.e perfect smile, perfect teeth. They could be taller or heavier than you. They will be very calm, down to earth and put together. They could have a well built physique, and tough body.
♰ Gemini (3°, 15°, 27°):
They could have a slender face, pale skin and a narrow stature. They will look very expressive when they start talking, but have a rather dull resting face lol. They could look rather breezy if that makes sense. Not one to wear anything too fitted. They could have great facial symmetry. Something about their teeth will be very prominent i.e straight or very white.
♰ Cancer (4°, 16°, 28°):
They could have very soft, rounded features. Doe eyes. They could have a slight glow to their face and their eyes. Curvy body, soft lips. They could wear a lot of baggy or vintage looking clothes. They could gain weight quite easily. They will look kind and mellow. They could have a very inviting smile.
♰ Leo (5°, 17°, 29°):
Gorgeous hair, and that face card doesn't decline. They will love dressing in old Hollywood vintage clothing, old money or loud and expensive. They could have very wavy or curly hair that will catch anyone's attention. They also have a slight cocky look to them. They are attractive, and god do they know it.
♰ Virgo (6°, 18°):
They are usually very petite/short and frail looking. They could look compacted but not aggressively so. They will look very clean and polished. There will not be a single speck of dust on them nor will you spot an unironed spot on their clothing. They will love wearing comfortable yet elegant looking clothes. You'll notice they tend to lean on a specific silhouette or colour that they like.
♰ Libra (7°, 19°):
" They have the face of an angel and the body of a greek god" Beautiful. Elegant and gentle. Looking at them will leave you at a daze. They look good and know exactly how to dress for their body. All of their facial features blend in harmoniously, could have a symmetrical face too. Oval faces, bright eyes, pretty smile.
♰ Scorpio (8°, 20):
Usually, they will have very striking eyes. They could have eye bags or just darkened eyes in general. Like virgo, they could love to stare at you lol. Every feature they have will accentuate their eyes. They are very attractive ( s*xually) , everything about them will be sensual and seductive.
♰ Sagittarius (9°, 21°):
There could be a significant size difference between you. They could have very long legs, curly or fluffy hair, and animated facial features. They will look very charming, but goofy in a way. One look at them and you know they're somebody fun to be around. They could laugh a lot and look stoic (contemplating) at times.
♰ Capricorn (10°, 22°):
They could look very cold or uninviting. He could have a very relaxed yet also somewhat stern look on their face even with neutral emotions. They could look very mature, their eyebrows could often be furrowed lol. They could have very prominent bone structures i.e nose, hollow or defined cheek bones. They could look very "boney" in general lol. Very masculine.
♰ Aquarius (11°, 23°):
They could be very tall or slender. Their heads and arms could be quite prominent something about them will catch a lot of stray eyes. They likely have features that are rebellious in nature. They could have odd hairstyles/ colours (especially) or tattoos or piercings. They could dress very.. exotically? Strange? Their fashion style could be quite questionable to say the least but never are they boring to look at.
♰ Pisces (12°, 24°):
They will have very sad, sultry looking eyes that look almost sympathetic 24/7. They will seem like they're not really "there" with you i.e lost in thought or deep contemplation. They will have very rounded features. Their cheeks could look very puffy or rounded when they smile. You could think that they're too good to be true. Their skin could have a greyish undertone, almost like the moon is beneath their skin.
Note: If there are conflicting signs of their appearance for example you have Virgo rising (small, petite) in 2° Taurus (bigger, heavier) then it means your fs is considered large for a virgo i.e.gains weight easily, and are very well built or muscular while still not being overly built (lean).
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*** entertainment only, reader discretion is advised***
Thank you for reading ♡
@northopalshore
@northopalshore 2024 all rights reserved.
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littleprinces · 4 months
Text
The Night of Passion
IVE Liz x M! Reader
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The night was dark, and the music was loud. The club was packed with people, all dancing to the rhythmic beats. I scanned the room, looking for someone who caught my eye. That's when I saw her. Liz. She was standing by the bar, sipping on a drink. She had long, wavy blonde hair, piercing green eyes, and curves in all the right places. I couldn't help but be drawn to her.
I made my way over to the bar, ordering a drink as I tried to think of a way to approach her. As I sipped on my whiskey, I noticed her gaze lingering on me. I took the opportunity and approached her, trying to think of a smooth line.
"Hey, I noticed you from across the room. You seem like the kind of girl who'd be up for a little adventure," I said, flashing her a charming smile.
She looked at me for a moment, her green eyes full of curiosity. "Is that so? What kind of adventure did you have in mind?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
I leaned in close, my lips brushing against her ear as I whispered, "I was thinking something a bit more...private. Are you interested?"
Liz gave me a sultry smile and nodded, her eyes full of excitement. We made our way out of the club and into the cool night air. I led her to my car, where I had a surprise waiting for her.
"I thought we could have some fun in here," I said, opening the trunk to reveal a collection of toys and props.
Liz's eyes widened, her cheeks flushing with heat. "I've never done anything like this before," she admitted, biting her lip.
I reached into the trunk, pulling out a set of anal beads and a buttplug. "Well, there's a first time for everything," I said, handing them to her. "Why don't you try these on for size?"
Liz hesitantly took the items from me, examining them with a curious expression. I could tell she was nervous, but I knew we were going to have a good time.
I reached for the vibrator, pressing the button to bring it to life. "Now, let's get started. I'm going to fuck your pussy with this while you play with your ass," I said, sliding the vibrator inside of her.
Liz moaned softly, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the sensation. I watched her intently, my cock throbbing with anticipation.
"Now, take the anal beads and insert them one by one," I instructed, watching as she slowly pushed the beads into her tight ass.
Liz's breathing became ragged, her body trembling with pleasure. "Oh god, that feels so good," she whispered, her eyes locked on mine.
I grabbed the buttplug, lubing it up before pushing it into her ass. "And now, let's add this little toy to the mix," I said, watching as it disappeared inside of her.
Liz moaned loudly, her eyes rolling back in pleasure. "Oh fuck, that's so intense," she gasped, her body writhing in ecstasy.
I reached for the BDSM gear, attaching a leather collar around her neck. "Now, let's take this to the next level," I said, my voice low and commanding.
Liz looked up at me, her eyes full of trust and desire. "Yes, Sir," she said, her voice soft and submissive.
I led her back to my car, where I had set up a makeshift sex dungeon. I strapped her to the bed, her arms and legs spread wide. I took a moment to admire her body, my cock throbbing with anticipation.
"Now, let's get to work," I said, reaching for the anal beads and buttplug.
Liz moaned loudly as I removed the toys from her ass, her body trembling with pleasure. I slid my cock into her tight pussy, fucking her hard and fast.
"Yes, fuck me, Sir. Harder, deeper," Liz begged, her voice hoarse with desire
"Fuck liz, you are so dirty slut, you are gonna be my pet" i moan softly
"Yes Sir, fuck me, claim this dirty slut as yours" Liz moan harder
I gripped her hips tightly, pounding into her with all my might. "You like that, don't you? You like it when I fuck you hard," I growled, my voice full of lust.
Liz moaned loudly, her body shaking with pleasure. "Oh god, yes, fuck me harder," she gasped, her eyes locked on mine.
I reached down, grabbing her legs and pulling them up to her chest. I plunged my cock deep inside of her, fucking her with reckless abandon.
"Yeah, that's it. Take my cock like the dirty little slut you are," I said, my voice full of lust.
Liz moaned loudly, her body trembling with pleasure. "Oh god, yes, fuck me like that, Sir," she gasped, her eyes locked on mine.
I reached down, grabbing her clit and rubbing it roughly. "Are you ready to cum, you little slut? Are you ready to cum all over my cock?" I growled, my voice full of lust.
Liz moaned loudly, her body trembling with pleasure. "Oh fuck, yes, I'm going to cum. I'm going to cum all over your cock, Sir," she gasped, her eyes locked on mine.
I could feel her pussy clenching tightly around my cock, her orgasm ripping through her body like wildfire. I fucked her hard and deep, my own orgasm building inside of me.
"Yeah, that's it. Cum for me, you little slut. Cum all over my cock," I growled, my voice full of lust.
Liz moaned loudly, her body trembling with pleasure as she came hard. I pumped my cock deep inside of her, my own orgasm ripping through me like a tidal wave.
I pulled out of her, cum shooting out of my cock and splattering all over her pussy. "Yeah, that's it. Cum all over my little slut," I growled, my voice hoarse with lust.
Liz moaned loudly, her body trembling with pleasure as my cum dripped down her pussy and onto the bed.
"God, that was so intense," she whispered, her eyes locked on mine.
I smiled, my cock still throbbing with desire. "I told you we were going to have a good time," I said, my voice low and commanding.
Liz smiled, her eyes full of satisfaction. "Yes, Sir. You definitely delivered," she said, her voice soft and submissive.
I reached for the anal beads and buttplug, attaching them to my cock. "Now, let's see how you like it when I fuck your ass," I said, my voice full of lust.
Liz moaned softly, her eyes full of desire. "Yes, Sir. I want to feel your cock in my ass," she whispered, her voice hoarse with lust.
I positioned myself behind her, my cock ready to penetrate her tight ass. I pressed the head of my cock against her asshole, slowly pushing my way inside.
"Oh fuck, that's so intense," Liz gasped, her body trembling with pleasure.
Liz moaned loudly, her body trembling with pleasure. "Oh god, yes, fuck me in the ass, Sir," she gasped, her eyes locked on mine.
I gripped her hips tightly, fucking her ass with reckless abandon. "Yeah, that's it. Take my cock in your ass, you little slut," I growled, my voice full of lust.
I reached down, grabbing her clit and rubbing it roughly. "Are you ready to cum again, you little slut? Are you ready to cum all over my cock?" I growled, my voice hoarse with lust.
Liz moaned loudly, her body trembling with pleasure. "Oh fuck, yes, I'm going to cum. I'm going to cum all over your cock, Sir," she gasped, her eyes locked on mine.
I pulled out of her, cum shooting out of my cock and splattering all over her ass. "Yeah, that's it. Cum all over my little slut," I growled, my voice hoarse with lust.
Liz moaned loudly, her body trembling with pleasure as my cum dripped down her ass and onto the bed.
And the night will be so long for us
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crishayle · 9 months
Text
Uranus in the houses
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Disclaimer.Here I describe only one specific placement, always take into account all your other placements when reading your natal chart, because they can have a greater influence on you than Uranus (in this case)
Uranus in the 1st house:
1.There may be rebel traits in a person's character. He can be straightforward, honest, and sharp-tongued. He will say what others are afraid to say. They are cardinal and categorical in their thoughts.
2.They are really kind. These are people who can help not only their loved ones, but also strangers. They do not tolerate injustice, rudeness and arrogance.
3.Most often they are of medium height, less often tall. Their eyes stand out very much in their appearance, there may be unruly or curly hair (or wavy)
4.They are brave. I will not say that they are not afraid of anything. They can talk about their fears and problems, but they can really pull themselves together and be courageous at the right moment
5.Personally, it seems to me that they are a little nervous and restless. It's just that they literally don't stand still during times of stress. They twitch their legs, bite their nails or pencils, bite their lips or cheeks. If something has offended them, then this thought will torment them for a long time
Uranus in the 2nd house:
1.It's hard for such people to save money. It's as if their money should always move (be spent or invested). At the same time, they damn always find money! They don't have a rainy day stash, but they manage without it
2.A person has a strong, rather restless energy. I wouldn't say it's crazy energy, but people feel this rush when they communicate with you
3.I noticed that such people can see beauty in chaos. For example, they may like disheveled hair, wrinkled or faded clothes. I'm not saying that they are dirty, but negligence plays the role of charm for them. They may have chaos in their bag, makeup bag, closet, etc. They are used to chaos, for them this is the most convenient storage system :)
4.He takes care of the equipment, it can be stored in good condition longer than other people
5.Most often they choose an unusual job. For example, it requires great endurance, dexterity or patience. They don't really like the 5/2 schedule (but consider your 6th house and Mercury)
Uranus in the 3rd house:
1.Personally, it seems to me that they have strange but funny jokes. I can't say that all people laugh at their jokes, but people with placements in Sagittarius/Gemini/Aquarius will be on the same vibe with them
2.They can make long pauses in their speech or quickly change the topic of conversation. They are good conversationalists, because they can discuss anything
3.They don't like big texts, lectures, or a huge amount of information. They prefer concise and more specific texts. I noticed that they choose books and movies very carefully so that watching or reading is really interesting.They may also dislike long films. My friends with Uranium in the 3rd house recently fell asleep on a 3-hour movie. Well, sleep is useful
4.Most often there are problems with concentration. Such people can solve very difficult tasks, but blunt on the easiest ones
5.They are quite independent in terms of learning. Their brains are practical, creative, and NON-STANDARD. Sometimes I'm really shocked by what they can come up with. Scary and cool lol
Uranus in the 4th house:
1.They may not look like their parents, or they may look like distant relatives (but you need to consider whether you have aspects of the sun/moon to the ascendant)
2.Strange relationship with parents. They're not bad, but they're not that close either. Or it can be like a roller coaster, from love to hate(but I would recommend considering your moon as well)
3.Independent and matured early. Their minds are much older than their bodies. A person is not used to listening to advice, likes to make decisions on his own and does not tolerate control
4.Not always, but this is one of the signs of a single-parent family or a person's childhood could have been spent with grandparents
5.There is one caveat. Such a person may be inclined to take too much responsibility and control. Literally bring himself to panic and a state of emptiness when he is not able to help even himself
Uranus in the 5th house:
1.One of the indicators of attractive appearance. You may feel the stares and attention of strangers. There is something memorable about their appearance
2.With tense aspects, it may indicate an unwillingness to have children, or a late pregnancy. Sometimes it also indicates problems with the reproductive system (but you need to take into account the 8th house)
3.This is a person around whom there is always some kind of drama and adventure. I do not know how it happens, but there is always something interesting going on around them, even if they do not want to
4.Girls, if you see a man with Uranus in the 5th house with a bunch of squares/oppositions (ESPECIALLY TO THE MOON), run and don't look back. It's not worth it. They are not suitable for serious relationships, especially for family ones
5.A person who has his own style of clothing or image. They like to focus on details and accessories. They try not to wear the same look every day
Uranus in the 6th house:
1.An unpunctual person. He may often be late or not come to work/study/meeting. A flexible work schedule is more suitable for him
2.If they have inspiration and motivation, then they can complete 1000 tasks in a day, but if they are not in the mood, then they will not do anything. They are literally mood people. I wouldn't say it's always a bad thing. This situation is often found among writers and creative people.
3.Their main advantage is physical endurance. I will not say that they are jocks, but their body can withstand a load that will break any other person. They may not sleep/eat/work/walk longer than ordinary people
4.Such a person may have special esoteric rituals, for example, to attract good luck or money. They also notice the signs of fate well
5.They also don't like talking to someone not on the same level. Status, salary, gender, etc. are not important to them, they will communicate with you like with everyone else
Uranus in the 7th house:
1.Well, there is 100,000% something unusual in the sphere of human love. There are long-distance relationships and a long 10-year relationship without marriage and a relationship with a friend and a divorce and a strange acquaintance with the second half and an annoying ex. It can be anything but a normal relationship
2.A person may avoid romance and love (but consider your Venus). A person prefers to be loved rather than loving someone
3.Such people like emotionally sensitive people. Only people with stressful aspects of Uranus can choose people with mental problems. They may think that their partner is a mysterious and interesting person, but he just has depression or social phobia
4.With the harmonious aspects of Uranus, such a person values his independence in relationships. He clearly defends personal boundaries, while respecting his soulmate. He can immediately break off a relationship if he understands that they are harmful to him
5.Such a person knows how to find an approach to anyone. His circle of friends may consist of completely different and dissimilar people
Uranus in the 8th house:
1.Such a person had a case when he had an accident/was severely electrocuted or burned/was in a fire, etc. Simply put, there was a case when he miraculously survived
2.He understands other people well. Literally can feel other people's emotions. He's good at spotting lies.This is from the indicators of a psychologist/tarologist/astrologer
3.VERY GOOD INTUITION!!!!!
4.Such a person has few close people. He may seem distrustful and cold from the outside. His friends are being tested by time
5.To be honest, people in this position always make an impression after a conversation. Their life experience and worldview are so interesting and unique that their advice can be really useful. I'm not joking or exaggerating.Imagine,even I(Capricorn)listen to their advice
Uranus in the 9th house:
1.This person is like an eternally half-empty vessel. No matter how much knowledge and experience he receives, it is always not enough for him. They are not stubborn in their opinion and can really look at the situation in 360 degrees
2.In combination with a strong Mercury, it may indicate moving to another country or learning another language to the level of a native speaker
3.These are the very people who jump from topic to topic in conversation and forget what they were talking about. Their attention is chaotic, so they can reread the same page a thousand times because they are thinking about something
4.Moral issues are often raised in conversation. They can often discuss justice, honesty and mercy. In general, they believe in humanity and they are really kind
5.They are very harsh and rude when they notice disrespect or lies in their direction. Even if they are silent, they will make such a face that you will blush with shame. They clearly set their personal boundaries
Uranus in the 10th house:
1.Good logical thinking and imagination. It is often found among workers in the field of IT, engineering,design
2.Such people almost always rise rapidly through the career ladder and professional development. They really strive to be a master of their craft, they are considered an authority and are asked to teach beginners
3.By the way, good teaching skills. Such a person can explain very complex things in understandable language.
4.They try to live by the principle of let everything go as it should. They strive to make the most of what they can and try not to worry about problems that are beyond their control. They are quite stress-resistant
5.Most often, they do not work in their specialty. They could change a lot of jobs, and in each they developed quite successfully. They like to try and learn something new
Uranus in the 11th house:
1.Most of the time, his friends are creative and unusual. I would even say crazy a little bit. Such a person is attracted to cheerful, energetic and fervent people
2.With tense aspects, it may indicate dependence on other people's opinions and low self-esteem
3.Good leadership and organizational skills. Such a person is energetic and creative, knows how to communicate with a crowd of people and hear everyone's opinion. Many of them are activists at school or university
4.Such people rarely lose their virginity before the age of 18. They prefer to carefully look for the very person with whom they will feel not only a physical, but also a spiritual connection (for them this is a mandatory point)
5.With tense aspects, it may indicate social phobia or fear of loneliness. A person literally cannot be in silence or alone with his thoughts
Uranus in the 12th house:
1.Very good intuition, but there may be neurological problems (sleep problems, seizures, nervous tics, etc.)
2.Very kind and even too kind. They tend to put their own needs below those of others. They do not like to quarrel and will rather keep silent so as not to create unnecessary noise (but also consider the Sun and Mercury)
3.From the outside, such a person gives the impression of an educated and calm person. They are like your beloved grandfather, to whom you can always come for hugs and interesting stories.They are very comfortable!
4.On the other hand, people with this placement claim that because of their social flexibility, it is difficult for them to understand who they really are. The influence of other people is so strong that it is difficult for them to hear their inner voice
5.They prefer oversize clothes in calm tones(but also consider your Venus). Loose or wavy hair suits them very well. Sweaters or cardigans fit them best!
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goddessofvalyria · 27 days
Text
WITCH QUEEN | Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader.
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Summary: Aemond Targaryen met a witch at Harrenhal, the two fell in love and thanks to her help, the Greens won the war. But in the end with Aegon dead it was Aemond who succeeded his brother and was crowned king at the Dragonpit with the crown of the Conqueror. He married his witch with the Valyrian marriage, making her his witch queen.
TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, she is a witch from Essos, described as very beautiful, intelligent and charming, with long black hair and eyes. Since they met in Harrenhal, the witch takes Alys's place. Sexual themes: Oral (f receiving), masturbation (f receiving) SMUT, sexual tension, sex, sex, sex, they conceive their sixth child.
English is not my first language, be kind <3
This is my Masterlist
Words: 3333
Aemond Targaryen, during his time at Harrenhal, encountered a witch who was strikingly beautiful, intelligent, and charming, with long black hair and charming black eyes. The two fell deeply in love, with her Aemond and the Greens were able to win the war.
After the death of his brother Aegon, Aemond ascended the iron throne and was crowned king at the Dragonpit, wearing the crown of Aegon the Conqueror. He married the witch through a traditional Valyrian ceremony, making her his queen.
Now, Aemond reigns as the King of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, living a happy and peaceful life with his witch queen and their children at the Red Keep.
On a quiet day in the Red Keep, Aemond Targaryen lay on the bed beside his queen witch, their laughter echoing softly through the room. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the chamber. Their four children Aegon, Visenya, Daemon and Daenys, surrounded them with a sense of playful excitement. Little Maegor, the youngest, was still nestled in his cradle, cooing softly.
Aemond, his long silver hair unbound, chuckled as his children clamored around him, eager to braid his hair. "All right, all right" he said with a grin, surrendering to their demands. "Who will go first?"
"Me!" Aegon declared, his violet eyes sparkling with determination. He clambered onto the bed and began to carefully braid a small section of his father's hair.
Visenya watched her brother with an amused smile. "You're doing it all wrong, Aegon" she teased. "Let me show you how it's done."
Aemond exchanged a glance with his witch, his eyes filled with warmth and love. "What do you think, my queen? Shall we let them continue their assault on my hair?"
She laughed softly, her fingers tracing patterns on his arm. "I think you're in good hands, my king" she replied, her voice full of affection. "Besides, you're a wonderful dad. Let them have their fun."
Daemon, not wanting to be left out, climbed up and grabbed another section of Aemond's hair. "I'm going to make a warrior braid" he announced proudly.
Daenys, the youngest of the group, giggled as she climbed into her mother's lap and took a small handful of her long hair. The witch queen hair was long and wavy, reaching to her knees, the child trying to imitate her brothers. The witch stroked her hair, letting her play. "Be gentle, little one" she whispered, stroking her cheek. "Yes mummy"
Aemond smiled down at his children, his heart full of love.
The witch queen watched the scene with a contented smile, her heart swelling with love for her family. "You know" she said softly, "These are the moments that matter most."
Aemond nodded, his gaze lingering on his children. "Yes, my queen, my love" he agreed, "These quiet, simple moments are what make everything worthwhile."
As the children continued to braid and play, Maegor stirred in his cradle, letting out a small cry. The queen rose to tend to him, gently scooping him into her arms and soothing him with a soft lullaby.
Aemond watched her, his heart full. "We are blessed, my love" he murmured, his eye never leaving her. "Blessed beyond measure."
She looked up at him, her violet eyes shining. "Yes" she whispered, "We are, my love"
Together, they sat surrounded by their children, basking in the simple joy of a peaceful day—a king and his witch queen, bound by love, and the promise of a bright future for their family.
That night, as the Red Keep settled into a quiet stillness, Aemond and his witch queen lay together in their bed, the soft glow of candlelight flickering around them. She rested her head on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her cheek. Aemond’s arm wrapped around her, holding her close, his fingers idly tracing patterns along her back. For a moment, they simply lay in silence, content in each other’s presence. But the stillness of the night brought with it memories of a time when peace seemed an impossible dream.
"Do you ever think about it?" she asked softly, her voice barely more than a whisper in the dark. "The war?"
Aemond’s gaze drifted to the ceiling, his mind wandering back to those days of fire and blood, of betrayal and loss. "I do" he admitted, his voice a low murmur. "More often than I care to."
She lifted her head slightly to look up at him, her violet eyes searching his face. "Do you regret any of it?" she asked, her voice gentle but laced with curiosity.
Aemond was silent for a moment, his jaw tensing as he considered her question. "I regret nothing" he said finally. His gaze darkening with the weight of the past. "And I do not regret the choices that led me to you."
Her lips curved into a small, sad smile. "Though the path was filled with shadows, it brought us here, to this moment, to this life we've built together."
Aemond’s hand moved to gently stroke her hair, the silver strands mingling with her dark locks. "We were forged in fire" he said softly. "In the crucible of war. And yet, we emerged stronger… together."
She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his words wash over her. "I still remember the first time I saw you" she murmured. "At Harrenhal. I knew then that our fates were entwined."
Aemond smiled faintly, his eyes softening at the memory. "And I knew that you were more than you seemed" he replied. "A witch from Essos, yes, but so much more… my guiding star in the darkness."
She chuckled softly. "A queen witch" she corrected, her tone light, though her heart swelled with love. "Your queen witch"
Aemond’s smile widened, a rare softness in his expression. "My queen" he agreed. "The light that led me through the darkest nights."
They fell into a comfortable silence again, their thoughts lingering on the past but finding solace in the present. The horrors of the war seemed a lifetime ago, a distant memory overshadowed by the love and peace they now shared.
She smiled against his chest, her heart steady and calm. The witch queen was so in love with his husband.
Aemond lay in the quiet of their bedchamber, the flickering candlelight casting soft shadows on the walls. He could feel the warmth of his witch queen beside him, her head resting on his chest, her breath slow and steady as she listened to the rhythmic beat of his heart. The comfort of their closeness should have put him at ease, but his thoughts drifted to a lingering insecurity.
He stared at the ceiling, his hand absentmindedly brushing against the leather eyepatch he wore. Aemond had grown accustomed to the feel of it, to the weight of the past it carried. Yet, he had never grown used to the thought of his children seeing him without it. He feared what they might think—the fear they might feel at the sight of his scarred, empty socket, a reminder of the violence and pain he had endured.
Sensing his unease, she lifted her head, her violet eyes filled with concern. "What troubles you, my love?" she asked softly, her fingers gently tracing his jawline.
Aemond hesitated for a moment, then sighed, turning his gaze away from her. "I worry" he admitted quietly. "About our children… seeing me like this. Without the patch."
She reached up and touched his cheek, guiding his face back toward her. "They are your children, Aemond" she whispered, her voice filled with love. "They see you as their father, their protector. Not as a man with a scar."
He shook his head slightly. "But what if they fear me?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. "What if they see the monster I see when I look in the mirror?"
Her heart ached at his words. She leaned up and kissed him gently, her lips soft against his. "You are no monster" she whispered against his lips. "You are a warrior, a king… a father who loves his children more than anything. They see your strength, your courage. They see the man I see—the man I love."
Aemond closed his eye, letting her words wash over him, feeling the warmth of her love seep into his soul. "You have always seen the best in me" he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "Even when I could not."
She smiled softly, her fingers brushing through his silver hair. "Because there is so much to love in you" she replied. "And our children will see that too, in time."
He looked at her then, his gaze filled with a deep longing, a desire that had been growing within him. "Another child" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I want another child with you."
Her breath caught at his words, a smile spreading across her lips. "You want to expand our family?" she asked, her voice filled with love.
He nodded, his eye searching hers. "Yes, he said softly. "I want to see our children grow, to see them thrive in the peace we have fought so hard to secure. I want to build a future with you, a future filled with love and laughter… and more children if you want."
She felt a swell of emotion in her chest, her heart overflowing with love for the man beside her.
Aemond’s expression softened, his lips curving into a tender smile. He pulled her closer, his lips finding hers in a deep, passionate kiss. They lost themselves in the warmth of each other’s embrace, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony, their love consuming them.
Aemond kissed her in a passionate, dirty, hot kiss, his hands tightened around his witch queen's face, their lips devouring each other with each kiss, biting and their tongues, intertwined. "Tell me you want it, my love" Aemond whispered with his forehead resting on hers. "I want to make another baby with you, Aemond" she replied placing her hands on her husband's bare chest. "My husband" his witch queen whispered brushing his lips. "Let's do it, let's make another baby" she whispered in his ear.
She kissed his neck, her full lips wet and warm making Aemond wince. The witch traced a trail with her long nails up Aemond's spine. He shivered, she continued to kiss his skin, moving down to his chest and licking his warm skin. "My wife wants her husband mh?" he took her face with one hand. "And my husband wants his wife?" she teased him.
"He wants her so much," she continued, playing along. "He wants to fuck her until he fills her up with his seed, make sure he gets her pregnant and that in nine months a new life can come into the world." She looked at him with eyes full of love and perversion, Aemond kissed her again and in an unkind gesture he tore off her nightgown. Her sweet wife naked in front of him was so beautiful and he was sure that she between her thighs was soaked.
His witch queen looked at him so dominant over her, she felt excited, wet between her thighs. "Mmh my husband…" she whispered, rising on her knees, Aemond lost her in his arms, caressing her body with his hands, his long fingers making her wriggle. Her back resting against his chest, his hand caressed her neck, went down to her breasts, along her side and then two fingers slid between her legs, caressing her intimacy. "Ao sagon sīr gevie" (You are so beautiful) he whispered in High Valyrian. Aemond kissed her neck again, his violet eye burning on my skin and soon after she, lying in bed in her husband's arms, felt his two fingers slide inside her hot wet pussy.
She pushed her hips against his hand, feeling her legs go soft and his other hand squeezed her breast. "Aemond… Gods" she begged between moans. Aemond kissed her neck again before increasing the speed of his fingers inside her.
"Let me take care of you first, my love" Aemond whispered. "Lie on your back" he whispered releasing her hands and moving between her legs. He kissed her skin, moving with hot and wet kisses from her ankle to the inside of her thigh. His eye looked at her hungrily, his touch was hot, the sapphire shining in the dark. he spread her legs and then buried his face between them, eliciting a moan of pure pleasure from her. He starved for her sweet taste on his tongue. "Oh…. Aemond, Aemond!" He alternated between licking and sucking her clit as his fingers inside her touched and pushed deep into her wet folds. Her hips moved to meet his tongue as her moans grew louder and more frequent. She felt her legs tremble, arched her back and tightened a hand in her long silver hair. "Aemond, Aemond, Aemond!" she whispered excitedly, his nose pressing against her clit.
Aemond devoured her, licking her pussy and fucking her with his tongue. He wanted to impregnate her, but first he wanted to see her come for him. Gods, how he loved her.
Aemond continued to lick her between her thighs until they began to shake and her pussy began to contract, with one last lick he reluctantly released her and hoisted himself on top of her.
Aemond looked down, she was reduced to a mess: soaked between her thighs, wet, her juices dripping from her pussy that wanted nothing more than to be fucked. "Take me… please" she whispered arching her back, feeling his long, hard and veiny erection.
Aemond smiled excitedly, took his cock in his hand and rubbed against her. His witch queen panted, her pussy still contracting with the need to be filled. "My love" Aemond whispered sliding the pink and hard tip of his cock on her clit. "My love… I can't wait to fill you up" she whispered marrying his cock between her wet folds. "I love making love to you" Aemond whispered. "I love seeing you cry with pleasure, I love seeing you so submissive to me.. so eager for my cock" she bit her lip.
"I love it when you talk to me like that, it turns me on, husband" she whispered, opening her legs a little, feeling his cock rub against her. She gasped, unable to contain herself. It felt so good to feel that way, it felt so good… to be his. He began to fuck her, thrusts that made her move on the bed, thrusts that made her wet again and again, his cock sliding in and out rhythmically, she arched her back and aemond fucked her hungrily.
"My good girl, my witch, my sweet wifey." His tongue licked her nipple before taking it in his mouth and earning another moan from his beloved wife. Those moans made him even more excited and she between my legs felt slippery, wet, dirty from him. Her fingers still there, getting wet from her and teasing her giving her pleasure, while his cock fucked her. "Enjoy my love, take it all my love" he said between one kiss and the other. He gently took her leg bringing it to his side, she wrapped herself around his narrow waist and let herself be fucked brutally.
Aemond pushed himself into her again and again, their breathing in sync, their moans, his looks, their caresses. She lost him, he lost himself in her, they both lost themselves in those sensations that only one could give to the other. His thrusts became fast and irregular while her moans became louder. She hugged him unable to let go, inhaled his scent, I caressed his hair, kissed him with my tongue again and again unable to let go. “My love” he whispered against her lips giving her another thrust, feeling both of them close to the climax.
Aemond moaned, his hands tightened on her hips and his witch queen arched her back, feeling his hard cock touch her in a sweet spot that made her moan. his purple eye scanned every single part of his wife's pleasure-contorted face, her sweaty skin, her hair free and wild, their bodies joined "My love" he whispered continuing to push into her while moving his thumb on her clit. "Ameond… Aemond… I…" she felt herself at the peak, her pussy starting to contract, Aemond pushed into her again, took her in his arms, kissing her on the lips as she came around his cock and he, proud, emptied himself inside her filling her with his seed, making sure she took it all in every single drop.
"I love you" they whispered at the same time. "I love you, I love you, I love you" they whispered together, kissing each other as Aemond slowly pulled out from inside her, he brought a hand between his beloved's legs, caressing her and with his finger pushing inside her pussy, his seed coming out.
"You're full" he whispered, kissing her lips. "You're full of me" he whispered again, leaning down so he could rest his face on her belly. "I can't wait for her belly to swell" he whispered, kissing her. "I can't wait to fuck you and know you're pregnant with our sixth child." Aemond hugged her, bringing his arms around her body.
"Boy or girl, I'll love it" he kissed her belly. "I know you're pregnant, I never fail" he looked up and looked at her with a proud smile. "Gods my love, you're more beautiful than ever."
His witch queen brought her hand to his face, caressing his scar. "I love you Aemond, I love you with all my life." Aemond slowly rose from her body, held her in his arms and she rested her head on his shoulder. "I'll give you a child whenever you want," Aemond smiled, moving his hands to her breasts. "Gods, they'll be full soon" he whispered, teasing her nipple.
"Aemond," she whispered, feeling the pleasure rise again. "Do you want to?" he asked, lifting her onto his hips. "Mmmh…" she moaned. "And if now…" she moved a hand between their bodies, finding his cock hard again. "And if now I rode my husband as he deserves?" she whispered excitedly, her dark eyes full of desire. "For being so sure that he made me pregnant, he deserves a reward," his witch whispered, slowly moving on his hips and rising a little.
"Yes, please" he begged, letting himself be submissive. "Ride me" she let herself go down on his cock, feeling it again in her wet and dirty pussy.
“Move slowly” he whispered, bringing his hands to her hips. “Like this, like this, my love” he helped her to pick up the pace, she placed her hands on his toned chest and began to move.
Aemond groaned, his hands tightened on her body, one hand on her breasts and she chased the pleasure, moving on top of him, letting that hot dragon fire consume them. “My love, my love” Aemond whispered submissively, enjoying the body of his beloved wife on top of his. Without any fear or shyness, she rode, Aemond teased her nipple, making her shiver, he sat up and took her in his arms, kissing her lips as she came around his cock again and he filled her with his seed again.
She went against his chest, holding each other they collapsed against the bed. Still inside her, now softer, he wouldn’t let her go. As both of their breathing slowly returned to normal, they felt a small shiver run through their bodies.
"I love you," she whispered. "I love you," he replied. "And I will love our sixth little one with all my heart."
Aemond held her in his arms, his hands on her belly, caressing it. They would be parents again and for him there was no greater love than that.
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