#you know i live to serve 🫡

[uhohdad]

(18+) ♡König♡ Voiceline Inspired Drabbles

“Who else is with you?”

Jealous!König Shows Ghost Who Reader Belongs To

WARNING: ABUSIVE & NON-CONSENSUAL THEMES

“I can hear them with you, don’t even think about lying.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

Your response was meant to sound nonchalant, but it comes out wavered and squeaky. Shaking fingers fidget with the hem of your shirt.

“Who is it?” König demands, but you both know he already knows the answer.

“It’s- it’s just the guys,” You mumble into your phone, shoulders braced and lips pulled back in unease.

“Of course it is. Is Simon there?”

“Who ya talking to, bonnie?” Soap asks, and you give him a panicked push on his chest in an effort to shut him up.

“Come home, right now.”

König’s tone leaves no room for argument. Grit and threatening, it sends a chill down your spine and raises the hairs on your neck.

Your lips part to speak, stammering through your sentence.

“I- I’m not driving, I cant-”

“You have twenty minutes.”

The line cuts off, the phone shaking in your rattling hands as you pull it in front of your face, staring at it with wide eyes.

“Simon,” You utter, “You have to take me home, now, please.”

The car goes silent, the light atmosphere sucked from the car the moment your frantic words cuts through.

“What’s wrong?”

“I- nothing,” You say, eyes darting to the side, “Just-”

You cut yourself off, debating whether or not you should tell the truth, scrambling for an excuse, but your mind draws a blank.

“You have to take me home.”

“Lover boy?” Simon asks.

Your silence confirms his suspicion. You wince, knowing this is being filed in his ever-growing ‘Reasons to Hate König’ folder.

“Simon, please,” Your plead is made of only breath, fingers fidgeting beyond control.

Simon says nothing, the car suffocatingly silent. He continues driving, not so much as activating his turn-signal.

Your voice picks up vigor, the desperation palpable, “Simon- Simon, please. Take me home.”

“No.”

The car sucks in a collective breath, only the hum of the engine filling the taut, awkward air choking you all.

“Simon,” You whine, your eyes pinch shut and your hand rests on your collarbones, “Please.”

Soap raises a brow, lost, “What’s wrong?”

“Lover boy doesn’t like it when our dove has a good time,” Simon answers gruffly.

You unclip your seatbelt, sticking your head in between the two front seats.

“Simon, you have to take me home, now, please.”

He says nothing, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Simon!”

Without thinking, your trembling hand darts out to grab the steering wheel.

“Sit back!” Simon demands, the car swerving in its lane as he bats your hand away.

The sudden harshness in his voice makes you flinch, eyes wide and your hand retracting to your chest. It is not a request between friendly co-workers after hours, it is an order from your Lieutenant.

“Now,” He says, glaring you down in the rearview mirror.

At once you shrink in on yourself, shoulders slouching and eyes fixated on your shoes as you sit back in your seat.

The burn of Soap’s stare is searing, he’s looking for an explanation, but you can’t meet his eyes, too busy swallowing the shame of Ghost’s scolding and the fear of your boyfriend’s fury. Your stomach is twisted in knots, breaths shallow and knee bouncing to expel the nervous energy.

When Simon pulls into the pub’s parking lot, you whip your phone from your pocket as you scramble to order a ride, but Simon snatches your phone from your hands and ignores your objections.

“Simon, please! You don’t know what you’re doing!”

“I’ll handle it,” Simon grits without looking over his shoulder.

He gives you a look piercing enough to make your knees knock together. You swallow, unable to find the strength to argue.

After a few drinks, the energy of the group has relaxed, but you’re still fidgeting, darting your eyes around and trying to keep the beer in your stomach instead of throwing it up from pure nerves.

You freeze when you see him yank open the pub’s door, hard enough he nearly rips it off the hinges. Your heart stops, your mouth parts, wide eyes locked onto him. He scans the pub for a moment before he finds you, wearing those scary, half-lidded, dangerous eyes that bore into you. From across the pub, his stare makes your stomach twist, and you have to stifle the urge to claw your way free from the booth and flee from predator eyes.

König crosses his arms over his chest, and tilts his head at you. An impatient finger taps his opposing bicep. Even from the other side of the noisy room, his message is clear.

‘I’m waiting.’

You swallow and look to the sticky tabletop, both your knees and your voice trembling when you speak.

“I gotta, I gotta run to the bathroom,” you mumble to no one in particular, shimmying awkwardly from the booth.

“König,” You start once in range, “I can explain, please, just let me-”

You cut yourself off with a gasp when he snatches you by the wrist with a crushing grip, forcing you to stumble over your own feet as you’re dragged out of the bar and along the sidewalk.

“König, please- I tried, I swear I tried, Simon just-”

König’s other hand grabs you by the waist with enough strength that bruises are surely to bloom at his fingertips. He ignores your writhing and winces of pain when he pushes you up against the pub’s dingy alleyway, blocking you in with his massive frame. His voice is hissed, his eyes devoid of any emotion other than rage.

“I don’t ever want to hear his name again. You understand me, little one?”

You choke, sputtering and stammering out syllables that will never get flushed out into sentences as his eyes narrow at you. Your body curls in on itself as he towers menacingly over you, his size alone more than enough of a threat to keep you compliant.

You nod, shaky but quick.

“Say it,” He growls.

“I understand,” You answer, just a squeak with words warbled in.

“Good,” He says, but you can tell by his tone he’s still not appeased.

A hardened hand snatches your wrists, pinning them to brick. Another yanks at the waistband of your jeans, ignoring your objections and your squirming legs.

“König, no! Here?” You whisper frantically, head whipping around to search for watchful eyes.

“You had the opportunity to come home. And you chose not to.”

He leaves no room for argument, a boot coming up to step on the pants bunched at your mid thigh, forcing them entirely to the ground when he plants his sole back on the concrete. You obey when he nudges you to suggest you free your ankle, and he wastes no time taking his cock from his pants.

You whimper when he presses himself to your panties, nestling between your lips with a grind.

He laughs, low and sinful in your ear.

“Already fucking wet, schlampe?”

A raspy grunt leaves him as he ruts his swollen cock against your panties.

“Just a little hure, whoring herself out for every man who pays you attention.”

You shiver at the vibration of his words against your chest, the tickle of his breath on your ear.

“Guess I’ll just have to remind you who you belong to.”

With your wrists pinned to the brick above your head, his other hand snatches your jaw with a tight grip. He forces your head to the side, sinking his teeth into the sensitive, exposed flesh of your neck. You can’t help the strangled cry that leaves you, and the hand on your jaw quickly covers your mouth, muffling your wails with his calloused palms as he leaves imprints of his bites on your skin.

He laughs into your slobbered skin, kissing over the tender indents in your flesh.

“Don’t worry little one,” He coos in a sickly sweet voice, “It’ll be over soon.”

Your whimper is stifled by his hand, but he gives your voice back when he reaches down to yank your soaked panties to the side.

“But you still need to learn your lesson, ja?”

He lets out a groan when the tip of his enraged cock swipes along your slick cunt.

“König, please,” You whine on a shaky exhale.

“Sh, sh, sh.”

König grinds between your lips, coating himself in your arousal before lining himself up. He is by no means patient, bullying half of his cock inside of you on his first thrust. Your head lulls forward, sniveling in his hold as your cunt stretches around his greedy cock.

He grunts through clenched teeth, pulling himself from you only to thrust mercilessly back in.

“Take this cock like a good girl,” He grits.

He finds a steady pace, hardly letting you adjust to his size before he’s fucking more of himself into you, your arousal soaking his throbbing cock.

“You want to act like a hure, hm?”

He leans in, letting go of your wrists to pick you up by your thighs, and gives you a stint of particularly brutal thrusts, your tits bouncing degradingly against your ribcage as he fucks you further into the bricks.

He snarls at you.

“Then I’ll treat you like a fucking hure.”

With your hands free, you’re clawing at him, trying to expel the overwhelming sensation of him robbing you of your tight, sensitive cunt. White knuckling his shirt and digging into his chest with your finger nails, pathetic whimpers leaving your lips.

“See? You can barely handle me, hure. You don’t need anyone else.”

You suck in a sharp breath when you hear bootsteps echoing at the end of the alleyway.

Sprung eyes lock with Simon, standing still in his spot, watching you get pounded against the wall.

König laughs, low and truly gut-wrenching. He doesn’t even have to look to know Simon’s there. As soon as he’s aware of his presence König doubles the pace of his thrusts, forcing his entire cock into you and filling you to the brim with each bottom out. His brute cock, his mound slapping against your clit, it turns your moans choppy and unrestrained as you succumb to the pleasure, the pain, the humiliation of knowing your Leuitenant has a front row seat to your punishment, watching König demean you and have his way with you.

You’ve gone entirely limp in his hold, intoxicated and cockdrunk, only able to focus on his ruthless cock ravaging your dripping cunt, the feeling of being stretched and filled, the burning eyes of Simon at the end of the alley.

“Alles meins,” He growls strictly, “Got it? All mine.”

You nod, stuttered moans pouring from your lips without thought. His grip on the back of your thighs tighten painfully in threat.

“Say it.”

“A-All yours!” You cry, lulling your head against the brick in defeat.

The pleasure is building in your lower abdomen, an electric and exponential euphoria taking control of your body, every muscle tensed and shaking.

“Tell your Lieutenant who you belong to.”

You twitch in his hold as he pushes you over the edge, not letting up in the slightest, cruelly abusing your g-spot as he works out every last wave of your overwhelming finish.

“König!”

♡ Jealous!König Makes A Bet With Reader ♡

♡ König Drabble Masterlist ♡

Dividers by the lovely @strangergraphics

[hwaslayer]

Freeeen, do we have one more chapter Forreal? BUT WE WANT MORE FREN! I NEED MORE CUTE MOMENTS! A SERIES THIS GOOD CANT BE TOO SHORT!! CANT YOU SPOIL US MORE PLEASE FREN!! But anyways I am so glad Chapter 5 has good moments finally. Chapter 4 angst was sad & I was getting mad at Woo lol cause sir.. one of the many things that I hate men do is throw mixed signals. I’m glad he finally got real with his feelings and him & Y/N are doing much better. They are too cute bro. I really can not wait for their first official date & how he’s gonna ask her to be his girlfriend, it’s gonna be so adorable. I’ve been having a lot Wooyoung feels and you are partly to blame for this lol.

I know I said it but imma say it again.. Woman why is this so good, WHY MUST YOU END IT SOON?! I DONT WANT IT TO END!! please spill some hints if we’re able to get more chapters or some sort of sequel. If not, please let us have an epilogue that will satisfy us all. I looked forward to the next chapter! I am so excited to see it! 💖

MY BOOOO! yesssss i’m afraid we have one more chapter to go with woo 😭😭😭 BUT I PROMISE ill make it worth it!!!! & i’ll have more plans for him + more cute series for the others in the near future 🫶🏼 i’m actually already planning the next set

im glad you liked the update 🥺 i needed everyone to know woo can get it together LOL cause i know, i’m the same— the mixed signals game is not my shit lmaooooo he stepped it up though and he’s very serious about proving it to her (not just by saying it but showing her too!). the date will be fun 🥰 perf for this wooyoung’s vibes!

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Agent Peña

Summary: You and Javi are unpacking as you move into your new house, when you come across something unusual in one of the boxes. Surprise, it's Javi's old tac vest, and boy, do you need to show him how good he still looks in it.

Word Count: 5.3K (I'm surprised it's not longer, I could write a thesis about this vest)

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no used of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) BOY OH BOY- unprotected p in v sex (be better pls), oral (m receiving), face fucking, mastrubation (f), big ole praise kink, creampie, cum play (ig??), soft dom!Javi (still being our consent king as always), Javi lifts reader up on the dresser and holds her hair, Javi's got a FILTHY mouth, THE VEST STAYS ON LADIES AND GENTS (gn)

A/N: ....Well.... Here we are. This idea has been rotting in the back of my brain for SO long, and I am finally ready to serve my time in horny jail 🫡 As y'all know, Javi's tac vest is deeply important to me, and it only feels right to support my namesake as such by sharing my deeply dirty thoughts of getting absolutely obliterated by this man in that stupid fucking vest. If you know me, no you DON'T, please do not make eye contact with me for the next 7-10 business days. 🤪

This can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!!

“Are you sure this is the last box?” 

“Yes, Hermosa, I’m positive.”

“Well, that was your answer 3 boxes ago, Jav.” 

You laughed to yourself, hauling what was supposedly the last cardboard box out of the back of Javi’s truck as you followed behind him into your new house. Your official move in day had finally come, and while you and Javi had been periodically transporting things from your apartment to the new house since it had been finished with construction, today was the last day on your lease, and the first day of your forever in your new home together. While you couldn't have been more excited to finally be in a real home of your own with Javi, you were much less excited about the 47 trips you had made in and out of the house, hauling boxes to and from Javi’s truck, and unpacking your entire existence into your new living space. 

You let out a little grunt as you set down the box into the mountain-like pile that had accumulated in your living room, Javi sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist as he planted a soft kiss on your shoulder. 

“You promise this was the last one?” You giggled, your voice oozing with sarcasm as you gave Javi a playful nudge while he held you in his grasp. 

“Promise.” He laughed, giving you a squeeze, only making you squeal and squirm even more. “Hopefully unpacking shouldn’t take too long, I’ll start moving the heavier shit upstairs and in the garage, and I’ll come help you down here when I’m done.” 

“What, are you saying I'm not strong enough to carry the heavy boxes? Rude.” You teased, spinning around to face him, crossing your arms over your chest, one eyebrow raised. 

“You know that’s not what I’m trying to say, you dork.” Javi sighed, rolling his eyes at your utter lack of seriousness in response to his comment. 

“I don’t know… Sure seems like it to me… I just don’t think that- HEY! PUT ME DOWN! STOP, STOP, YOU MEANIE!” You screeched, flapping your arms in hysterical laughter as Javi slung you over his shoulder, trapping you in the only way he’d figured out how to get you to stop with your never ending sass- tickling you until you were close to tears. “Fine, I- Javi! Stop! You win! You win! Let me go, you butt!” 

“Did you just call me a butt?” He snorted, setting you back down on the ground, smirking at the goofy grin on your face as you tried to recompose yourself, post tickle torture. 

“I would have come up with a better insult if I wasn’t close to almost peeing my pants.” You grumbled, sticking your tongue out at Javi, the two of you trying your best to keep from bursting into laughter again. 

“Will you just go start unpacking, weirdo? The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can go break in the new bed.” He smirked, biting down on his lip, his eyes looking you up and down with a mischievous sparkle. 

“Oooorrrrrr… We could just go break it in now and unpack later?” You shrugged, placing your hands on Javi’s chest, grabbing a fist full of the soft cotton of his worn t-shirt as you pressed up on your tiptoes and placed a kiss on his pouty lip. 

“As much as I want to,” He paused, pressing his lips back into yours, feeling the smile of his smug grin, “If we go now, there’s no way all of this is ever getting unpacked.” 

“Ugh, fine. You win again, Mr. Reasonable.” You frowned, giving him one last quick kiss before pulling away to search through the endless sea of cardboard to sort where each box needed to go. You reached down, hoisting up one labeled “bedroom” and resting it on your hip, pointing to the scratchy scribbles of Javi’s handwriting. “Look! I’m already going to the bedroom, soooooo…” 

“Osita…”   

“Fine, fine. You better move those boxes fast. Rude to keep your wife waiting like this, ya know.” 

“Will you please just go unpack, Hermosa?” He sighed, laughing and shaking his head, hiking up two boxes, heavy enough to make his biceps flex and the veins in his forearms incredibly noticeable. You could almost hear yourself audibly gulp as you watched him walk up the stairs, the muscles of his back flexing and straining deliciously against the gray cotton of his t-shirt. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” You muttered to yourself, in awe of your husband’s sheer broadness. So in awe, in fact, that you hadn’t even realized you had let your box slip from its place resting against your hip onto the living room floor, making you jump and startle yourself, scrambling to try and pick it back up in hopes that Javi hadn’t noticed. 

“You okay, baby?” Javi shouted from halfway up the stairs, peeking his head over the railing to see what had happened. 

“Yup, yup, totallyyyyy fine, all good, just going to unpack, nothing to see here.” You mumbled, darting down the hallway, eyes peeled in whatever direction was the exact opposite of Javi. 

Oof. You better find a way to become the world’s fastest unpacker. 

Thankfully, you and Javi seemed to make an unspoken pact to unpack in separate parts of the house to avoid distracting each other, Javi now working on organizing things in the garage while you worked on sorting all of the things that belonged in your master bedroom. Clothes and sheets had been easy to put away compared to all of the pots and pans you had unboxed in the kitchen before this, working your best to put things away as fast as you could with keeping the metal clashing and clanging to a minimum.

 As you dragged the last box labeled “Master Bedroom” into your room from the hallway, you were curious what kind of contents could be inside, considering you’d put away all of yours and Javi’s clothes, and whatever bedding belonged in your room. You spun the box around to each side, looking for any more clues, until your last turn, where you found “Javi DEA” printed on the upper corner. 

You paused for a moment, letting your fingers drum across the tattered cardboard, questioning whether or not you should leave it for Javi to deal with, or open it up for yourself. You gently chewed on your bottom lip as you internally debated, trying to rationalize with yourself before quite literally opening up a box into Javi’s past.

You had heard about the good, bad and ugly that had been Javi’s life in Colombia before returning home to Laredo, so you would be shocked to find something in this box that Javi really didn’t want you to see. 

It’s not like there was anything he’d be trying to hide from you in there, right? Probably just a bunch of badges and paperwork, anyways. 

With a little sigh and a shrug, you carefully ripped down the seam of the tape holding the box together, slowly lifting the cardboard flaps to reveal the contents inside. As you peeked into the box, you let out a little huff of relief to find out that your suspicions were correct- nothing but file folders, old badges and ancient coffee mugs with DEA symbols slapped across the front. 

You began making your way through the box, sorting its contents into piles for Javi to go through once he was finished in the garage. Even though majority of the items inside the DEA box were less than thrilling (unless you had a thing for reading 50 page long contracts full of legal jargon), you did get a kick out of Javi’s old badges, giggling at his grumpy frown that seemed to be plastered across his face in every picture he took from the time he started, until he retired. What cracked you up even more was finding the badges from the first few years Javi must have started working for the DEA, still sporting his signature pout, but with a clean shaven baby face you had only had the pleasure of seeing from the photo albums of Javi's youth that his father, Chucho, had so lovingly offered to share with you.

You gave the picture a sweet smile before setting it down with the rest of the badges in the growing pile, mindlessly reaching back into the box to pull out what you assumed would be more file folders full of paperwork. Except this time, you felt your fingertips graze against what felt like tough and worn fabric, dragging your hand further along the cloth until hitting a patch of scratchy velcro, making you cock your head in confusion. You scooted yourself over closer to the box, peering under the few manilla folders left inside to spot an army green strap popping out from in between them. 

Now very much intrigued, you dug your hand between the sea of papers, yanking on the mystery item to reveal a deep olive green vest, followed by a few crinkled pictures that must have been stuck inside it, gently fluttering to the floor in front of you. You set down the much heavier than expected vest to pick up one of the photos face down on the carpet, only to turn it over and feel your jaw practically drop to the floor and eyes bulge out of your skull. Because in that picture, was not just any photo of Javi from his time in Colombia, this was a photo of Javi, in the very vest that you had dug out from the bottom of his box. 

And holy fuck did he look hot. 

Frantically, you picked up another photo that had fallen to the floor, feeling your heart legitimately skip a beat to find it was another shot of him in the vest, his dark curls sticking to his forehead from the sweat soaking his skin and the light blue button down underneath it, hands resting on the hips of his dark gray khaki pants that left very little to the imagination. You flipped over one last picture, only to find the same, breathtaking visual of him in that damn vest, his biceps straining against the sweat-stained cotton of his army green shirt, the veins in his forearms prominently on display as he held the gun he was carrying pointed at the ground. 

While you had never seen these photos, or even known about this mystery vest until today, there was a part of you that was glad you hadn’t- the way Javi looked suited up in that vest had your head reeling in a way you weren’t sure you’d ever recover from, because Jesus Fucking Christ, it was the hottest goddamn thing you’d ever seen. 

Your eyes darted back and forth between the three photos, each picture somehow looking better than the last every time you found a new detail to drink in that made Javi look even more delicious.

Holy fuck.

You couldn’t help but let your mind wander even further than it already was, picturing what Javi would look like with it on now, the broadness of his shoulders filling out the vest even more than he would have the last time he wore it. 

You were so entranced, so lost in ogling at how attractive Javi looked in the vest, that you hadn’t noticed the sound his familiar footsteps trudging down the hallway, stopping in the doorway of your bedroom and watching you as you sat cross legged on the floor, hunched over the now nearly empty box. 

“Hey, Hermosa, I’m almost all done in the garage if you wanna-” Javi’s voice quietly trailed off as his eyes wandered, looking at the items from inside the box spread across the floor, stopping at the long forgotten sight of his old tac vest propped up against the cardboard.

He couldn’t help but quietly laugh to himself, simply out of shock that you had even found the vest in the first place, considering he hadn’t even remembered it had been living inside a box that hadn’t been touched since it was shipped back to Laredo with the rest of his things post DEA.

“Where the hell’d you find this? I haven’t seen this thing in fucking years.” He chuckled, reaching down to pick up the well worn armor, letting his thumb run along the seams of the rough fabric as he held it up in front of him, blocking your blushing and bright red face from his view. 

“It was uh- it was at the bottom of the box.” You gulped, trying not to stumble over your words, biting down on your tongue to try and keep your embarrassingly sheepish smirk at bay, Javi’s eyes now meeting yours as he lowered the vest from his view. He tilted his head in confusion at your clearly flustered state, reaching out his free hand to gently grab your arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your skin, his touch only making you more riled up. 

“Hermosa, are you okay?” 

“Yeah I’m- yes, I’m- I’m fine, it’s stupid.” You muttered, making no attempts to cover up your clearly blatant lie, darting your eyes away from Javi and shifting your gaze to the floor to try and hide your hot, flushed face, embarrassed that you were this worked up from 3 old photos and a piece of police gear.

But unfortunately for you, Javi knew you like the back of his hand, and knew all too well when you weren’t telling him something that was on your mind. 

Letting his hand slide up your arm and across your collarbone, he stopped at your chin, forcing your gaze back on him, giving you a smug shrug and raise of his eyebrows, silently waiting for your real response, the one he knew you were hiding behind your bashful facade. 

“What’s going on, baby?” 

With your eyes locked on his, thumb resting under your jaw, you had no choice but to swallow your own pride, the sweet dark brown of his glare coaxing your sheepish secret right out of you. 

“There were- there were pictures of you in the vest in the box. You look- Jesus, Javi, you look really fucking hot.” 

“That’s it?” He laughed, softly swiping his thumb across your cheek, still feeling like he hadn’t quite gotten everything out of you. 

“Well I was thinking... that uh- if- what-” 

“What, baby? Talk to me, it’s okay.” 

Oh, fuck me. 

“Would you, um, would- would you put it on?” 

“Put it on?” He chuckled, lifting up the vest, gesturing towards it. 

“Mhhmmmm.” You nodded, letting your tongue run against your teeth before biting down on your bottom lip, feeling a rush of heat rapidly creeping through your body. 

“Like, right now?” 

“Like, right now.” 

Realizing that you were completely serious about your request, Javi let out a playful scoff, running his hand over the back of his neck, almost as flustered by your ask as you were at the thought alone of seeing him in his vest. 

“Really? I mean, uh- yeah, okay.” Working in a quick and determined silence, Javi began slipping the vest over his head, pulling it over his broad shoulders and unfastening the velcro sides before readjusting them, tugging the flaps tighter against his stomach to hold them in place, quietly grumbling to himself. “Used to be able to pull these a lot tighter…” He groaned, flattening the last strap against the velcro.

As his focused shifted from his vest to you, he couldn’t help but smirk at the dumbfounded look on your face- the image in front of you leaving you so completely stunned, you felt like you needed to wipe the corner of your mouth to make sure that there wasn’t any drool coming out of it. Your brain was so short circuited, at a loss to form any sort of coherent sentence, the best you could muster out was a low, shaky, “Holy fucking shit.” 

“Didn’t know you had a thing for tactical vests.” Javi grinned with a devilish look slowing spreading across his face, seeing the complete and utter mess you were becoming as he slowly stepped towards you, the looming image of his broad body in that fucking vest making your heart race and your palms sweat. 

“Well, I- I didn’t, um, I didn’t-” You stammered, your breath trembling as you tried to respond, your brain going blank as you watched Javi approach you. Before you had a chance to even try to and concoct some sort of answer, Javi’s hand was back under your chin, fingers wrapped around your jaw with a much tighter and demanding presence than just a few moments ago, sensing the undeniable shift of palpable tension in the room. 

“Didn’t what? Use your words, sweet girl.” He rasped, teasing you with his knowingly smug smirk, his words shooting straight to your core, making your stomach flip in anxious arousal. 

You could feel your words bobbing in your throat as you swallowed, your tongue darting out of your parted mouth, desperate to taste Javi’s lips now barely ghosting yours, patiently waiting for your response, relishing in the needy mess he could sense you were quickly becoming. 

“Didn’t realize it until I saw you in it. You look- fuck- you look so hot.” You whispered, feeling his warm breath against your skin as he sucked at your pulse point, his teeth nipping at your neck as a ragged moan escaped your mouth. “Javi…” 

“Not gonna give you what you want 'till you tell me. I wanna hear you say it. Tell me what you want.” You could practically feel his satisfied smirk as his kisses worked their way down your neck towards your chest, each press of his lips taunting you, only making it harder and harder for any part of your brain to function. 

“I wanna- fuck- I wanna suck your dick. Fuck, I need to taste you.” You whimpered, reaching out to run your hand across his vest, letting it trail from his chest, down to his stomach, your fingertips grazing his belt buckle before a firm grasp wrapped around your wrist, holding your hand in place and stopping it from traveling any further. 

“Nuh-uh.” Javi tutted, rasping in your ear. “Be a good girl and ask first. Tell me how badly you need it.”  

“Please, Javi. Fuck, please let me suck your dick, baby. Please.” You moaned, sounding more desperate than you had intended, but fuck, there was nothing you wanted to do more than drop to your knees and worship him in the most sinful way you could.  

“Jesus, you’re so fucking pretty when you beg for it. You need me that bad, Hermosa?” Javi grinned, feeling you nod your head frantically, the hand he was holding in his grasp reaching for below his belt. “Okay, baby, show me how bad you need me, huh?” 

In an instant, you were dragging your hands down his vest, sinking to the ground as you frantically worked to undo his belt buckle, the quiet clang of the metal singing a song of sweet relief as you shuffled his pants down his legs before hooking your fingers around the elastic waistband of his boxers, tugging them down to meet his pants. pooling around his ankles. His cock sprung free as it was released, already painfully hard and weeping with precum as it slapped against his stomach, the sight alone making you lick your lips. You kissed the inside of his thighs, trailing your way up to his shaft in long, languid movements, dragging your tongue back and forth along the underside of his cock before sinking just his tip between your lips, swirling it in your mouth. 

You had barely touched him, but you were already so worked up that what had started as just a wet patch in your underwear had now turned into the fabric becoming completely soaked in your slick, leaving your cunt aching and throbbing. With your mouth still sucking and flicking at his tip, you couldn’t help but let your hand snake down your front, sneaking between your skin and the waistband of your pants as it dipped into your underwear. You let your fingers slide through your folds, before sinking them into your heat, your hips instinctively grinding down on your hand to find any sort of temporary relief as you fucked yourself with your fingers. 

Looking up at him with batted lashes, you sunk your mouth deeper down on his length, hollowing your cheeks as you took him inch by inch, watching his eyes go wide as you took the hand that had just been inside your pants back out to reveal the shiny slick covering your fingers, then wrapping them around his base, covering his shaft in your arousal. 

It was taking everything in him just to say fuck it right then and there, to toss you onto the bed and fuck you until you were begging him to stop, but watching the way you worked around his cock so needily had him so stunned, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but let you work your magic. 

“Jesus, fuck…” Javi muttered to himself, already feeling his balls beginning to tighten as your head bobbed along his dick, sinking down just enough to let the deep, musky scent of the curls at the base of his shaft tickle your nostrils. 

It wasn’t long before his hand was buried deep in your hair, his fingers cradling the back of your head as his hips began to buck towards your face, trying to hold himself back from full-on fucking your throat, until your fingers wrapped around the back of his thighs, bracing yourself as you gave Javi your silent nod of approval to keep going. Letting a low groan rumble in his chest, his second hand met the one already palming the back of your head, guiding you up and down his cock as he thrust deeper into your throat, tears welling in your eyes and saliva spilling out the corners of your mouth. His tip brushed against your gag reflex, making you dig your fingertips further and further into his skin. 

“Oh fuck- this what you wanted, Quierda? To get on your knees and let me- shit, shit, shit- fuck that pretty little mouth of yours like the good girl you are?” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, trying to keep himself together as he watched his length slide in and out of your mouth, tempted to let himself go and spill deep down your throat, watching his spend drip down your lips. But he knew he’d be kicking himself if he wasn’t finishing buried in the depths of your cunt, your warm, wet walls milking him of every last drop, clenching around him as you came. 

That was enough to pull him back to his senses, guiding his dick out of your mouth, the two of you catching your breath as you wiped your hand with the back of your mouth in confusion, wondering what had made him back off so quickly. 

“Javi, are you okay? Did I do something wr-oh!” You gasped, stumbling as Javi forcefully pulled you to your feet, manhandling you towards your dresser, your mouths becoming a mess of tangled tongues and teeth as your back bumped against the wooden edge. Javi’s hands were under your legs, grabbing you and hosting you up to sit on top of it, ripping your pants and underwear down off your hips and tossing them to the floor. 

“I need to be inside you. Fuck, I need to feel you when I fuck you full of me.” He mewled, reaching down to stroke himself as he lined his dick up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds, coating it even more in your slick before sinking himself deep into your pussy, flushing his hips against you as his cock bumped against your cervix. Even though you were already soaking wet, you couldn’t help but whimper at the sweet sting of how full Javi’s stretch made you feel, gripping around the shoulder straps of his tac vest for dear life as he began to thrust in and out of you, already setting a punishing, desperate pace. 

You wrapped your legs around the small of his back just under his vest, whimpering and moaning into his shoulder as your buried your face in the crook of his neck the lewd noises of muted moans and slapping skin filling the room as Javi punched into you, his cock splitting you open in the best way possible. 

“Javi, oh fuck baby, fuck, you feel so good, oh shit-”  You whined, your brain going blank, babbling between moans, already feeling a tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine while Javi’s hands gripped around your hips, holding you in place as he fucked into you hard and deep. Your cunt was starting to clench around his cock, pounding into that sweet spot inside you that had you seeing stars and screaming his name as you could feel yourself coming undone around him. 

Rutting your hips against him, the hairs at his base rubbed your clit, the friction giving you just enough stimulation to send you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a ferocious intensity, flooding every inch of your body with pleasure. 

“That’s it. Give it to me, Hermosa. Fuck- cum all over me baby girl.” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, his words humming deep in his throat as he fucked you through your high, his hands holding you in place as you melted into him, your body going limp as you came. “You gonna give me another one, Querida? Be a good girl and give me one more before I fuck you so full of me, I’ll be dripping out of you for days.” 

You were so lost in your pleasure, you couldn’t find any words, simply nodding your head as you moaned into his neck, only starting to come to when you suddenly felt an emptiness in your cunt, Javi pulling out to scoot you off the dresser, guiding your feet to the floor as he turned you over, splaying your chest across the wooden surface and pinning your arms behind your back. Gently nudging your feet wider, you could feel his broad body looming over yours, his hot breath dancing across your neck as he nibbled at your ear. 

“You still okay, Osita?” 

“Mhmmmm” You whimpered, your body trembling as Javi’s hands ran across your hips, feeling his hard length pressed against your ass, wiggling your bottom half against him, desperate for him to ease the emptiness between your legs again. 

“Lemme hear you say it, baby. Tell me how bad you need it.” Javi grunted, now dragging his cock through your folds, teasing your dripping entrance, waiting painfully patiently for your response. 

“I need it so bad, Javi, please, please baby.” You moaned, rolling your hips and pushing your ass back on him, doing anything to try and feel him inside you again. 

“My needy girl. Shhhhh, it’s okay baby, I’ve got you.” Javi smirked, flushing his hips against your ass as he bottomed out inside you, the fullness making you cry out in pleasure.

He slowly began thrusting in and out of you, dragging his cock along your heat, each stroke punching against your g-spot, so wet that you could hear each rut of his hips as he buried himself deeper and deeper into your hilt. 

You were so blissed out, barely hanging by a thread as you felt heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, that you were resting your head against the dresser, closing your eyes as you felt yourself coming undone. That was until Javi’s firm grasp shifted from pinning your hands behind your back to sliding up your neck, resting his hand under your jaw and forcing your gaze into the mirror on top of your dresser. 

Your eyes locked with Javi’s, the reflection of him in his vest towering behind you as he thrusted into you over and over, watching the brown pools of his eyes darken with lust as he watched you slowly begin to come undone under him. 

“Eyes on me, baby. Wanna see that pretty face when you cum all over me.” 

The image of him was all consuming- His wide shoulders spilling from the sides of the vest, his dark, damp curls sticking to his forehead from the sheen of his sweat that had begun to pool in his brow, the wrecked look painted across his face making you weaker and weaker as you could feel the heat creeping up your legs and through your core. 

Reaching back, you grabbed on to the side of his vest, burying your fingers into the thick fabric for dear life as his pace began to quicken, his thrusts becoming faster and sloppier with each snaps of his hips as he felt your pussy fluttering around his length, watching you turn into a puddle below him. 

“I know you’re close, baby. C’mon Hermosa, oh shit- give it to me.” Javi grunted, letting his hand drop from your jaw to snake down your body, the pads of his fingers circling your clit with just enough force to have you screaming his name, clenching your cunt around his cock as you came. 

“Javi, Javi, oh fuck, fuck, fuck-” You babbled, your eyes practically rolling in the back of your head as Javi began to follow suit, rambling incoherently, chasing his own high. 

“I know, baby, I know. Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well. Fuck, oh shit- I’m close, too. Oh, fuck me- Jesus Christ, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh-” With only a few more thrusts, Javi was spilling inside you, his spend pulsing against your walls as he milked himself of every drop he had, his body slumping over yours as your chests rose and fell in sync, trying to catch your breath. 

Your legs trembled as the warm mix of your spend trailed down your thighs, only to be caught by his fingers, slowly dragging your combined arousal back up your skin before taking it and pushing it back into your entrance, languidly pulsing his digits in and out of your dripping hole, making a ragged moan fall from your lips as he nipped at your neck, softly sucking at your pulse point. 

“Gonna keep you full of me all night, sweet girl, all fucking night.” 

“Holy fuck…” You whined, finally catching your breath enough to speak before pushing yourself back up to stand, turning around to grab Javi’s face, pulling him in for an electric, passionate kiss before letting your hands rest on the worn army green of his vest, quietly laughing to yourself in disbelief. “Jesus fucking Christ, Javi.” 

“You okay, Osita? Sorry if I got carried away, I just- fuck, seeing how worked up you were, I-” 

“Javier Jesús Peña, you better not be apologizing to me for being the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in that goddamn vest. I swear to God, I’m never letting you take that thing off. Well… On second thought, if you don’t take it off I don’t think I will ever be productive ever again because holy shit.” 

The two of you couldn’t help but laugh to yourselves as Javi wrapped his arms around your waist, his thumbs tracing soft circles against the bare skin of your hips, looking out at the scattered sea of pants and underwear on the floor that had been quickly left behind during your horny antics. 

“Well, if you let me take it off,” Javi grinned, pressing a chast kiss on your cheek and then peppering them towards your lips, “then we can go take a shower to clean up,” he paused again, feeling his smile against your mouth, “we can go break in the bed, and I can return your little favor from earlier since someone was too eager to get dicked down to let me.” 

“Oh, shut up, can you blame me? Don’t have to ask me twice.” You giggled, raising a playful eyebrow at Javi. “Just promise me one thing, okay?” 

“Of course, Hermosa. Anything.” 

“Don’t you ever get rid of that fucking vest, Agent Peña.” 

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem

[tojipie]

Please serve us your best dilf toji headcanons I am begging

warnings: nsfw, exhibitionism, anal, alc n weed

────────────────────────

sfw -

will use little placeholder names for you but gets all flustered when you do it back. he’ll call you things like pretty girl, little girl, sweet girl, etc. but as soon as you start firing back he gets embarrassed

works construction so he exclusively likes to wear a simple black tee and baggy jeans. a lot of the pieces he owns have singe marks and paint stains because he can never remember to put his work clothes in the wash in time :( he likes the look of it though.

doesn’t care that he’s older, like at all. he has an almost sickening amount of confidence in himself and quite honestly loves having a pretty little sweetheart on his arm.

loves cheap beer. always has a couple 6 packs stacked in the garage, and will usually pull you into his lap when you come to bring him one. it happens so often that the two of you now have this inside joke where you bringing him a beer means you’re initiating sex.

little bit of a temper in public but is working on it. is no stranger to road rage or picking fights with other men in public places. he got the two of you banned from ihop after he called one of the managers a cunt 🫡

bad cook! just terrible. it’s literally comical how incapable he is of making the simplest meals. he lived almost exclusively off of takeout before he met you and is still adjusting to eating at home more.

likes to eat out of the pot with u :,) thinks it’s romantic and will use his spoon to feed u bites from time to time.

is the type of smoker to say “i’ll quit when i want to” (he’s not going to quit). he tried shifting over to weed to get the buzz he needs but it fucks with his head before work so he just went back to his cigarettes. prefers marlboro reds! will blow the smoke in your face just to make you mad.

let’s you cut his hair! he thinks you do a better job than a barber ever would. when he needs a trim he’ll touch-up his undercut with an electric razor and have you shorten his fringe for him. you think he looks so cute sitting at the kitchen table with a towel wrapped around his shoulders.

will do different things while he rubs your back just to see your little reactions. he’ll run his nails down your spine, trace shapes into your skin, and give you little pats just to see you melt off to sleep.

nsfw -

lives for a good blowjob, no matter the place. will ask to get sucked off in the living room, in the drivers seat, on his breaks when you visit him at work. literally no shame when it comes to having his dick in your mouth.

cums fast and cums a lot. pretty fast recovery time and can definitely go multiple rounds. his favorite place to finish is on your face and lower stomach 🫶

wants to do anal but doesn’t really know how to go about bringing it up. the idea first piqued his interest after a friend told him about him and his wife trying it. he’s definitely curious about how tight you’d be around him, and would love to see your little gape :( he’s a sick man

definitely an ass man! lots to do with it, it’s natural that it’d be a favorite of his. loves how easy marks take on the skin there and is likely to leave a couple hickeys while ur doing it.

favorite position is doggy. boring ik :( but it’s a classic to him! he feels most comfortable gripping onto the fat just above your hips and pulling you back into his cock. he’ll either have you face down with a hand to the back of your neck, or use your shoulder as leverage to keep you upright while he pounds into you.

might have a genuine exhibition kink. you cannot visit the airport without going at least a round in the single stall bathroom. if the two of you can find a room with a lock, he’s gonna ask to fuck in it. that’s just how it is and there’s no changing him. had his way with you once in the gym showers, you still don’t know how he successfully snuck you in and out of there.

big on both degradation and praise, he knows how to balance them out well, following every “fucking slut” up with a equally devastating “but you take cock like a champ no?

big dick 🫡 need i elaborate. he likes to press down on your tummy while he fucks you to try and see where his tip is, he thinks it’s fucking hilarious.

[withonly-sweetheart]

Skin Out of Stone

He frees you from the confines of the Earth you were born, yet your feet grace the same ground that his does. He pays you an homage, and doesn't expect your reaction to be so... grateful.

a/n: so erm... this was supposed to come out a long long time ago but i couldnt find my rb of @chesue00 's art (middle image in header) in my fic ideas tag and thats bc i never rbed it.

kmsing rn. but erm YES SCULPTOR LEON HAS ME THINK A WHOLE WHOLE LOT BC UR BRAIN IS SO SCRUMPDIDLYUMPTIOUS SO YES THIS IS SOMEWHAT LIKE TO KEEP AN ANGEL I THINK ITS SET IN THE SAME TONE? idfk take this and gn 🫡🫡

tw: mentions of sex, nsfw, nun too bad i think, ig implied stalking but its all in good faith trust 🙏🙏

wc: 1.3k

All he’s ever wanted to do is capture you, a moment in time, in that block of concrete delivered to him the moment you had appeared into his life, a sequence of events he knew he was tumbling far too fast towards, yet unable to stop it anyway. The curve of your hip, where he braces his palm, flattens it against the clay that so easily succumbs to his touch, unable to think on its own. It serves his purpose to adapt to his thoughts, molding to his vision.

The vision of you, standing in the golden afterglow of mysterious sunlight, dappling you in unthinkable shadows, how you would be melting honey dripping between his fingers if you would just give him a chance. But your worlds, however you might begin to appear in the stone in front of him, will never collide.

Secretly, one part of him hopes that you might see it one day, appear at his doorstep, perched over his shoulder like a songbird waiting to serenade his work, his devotion to you. But your eyes will only ever be directed at him through the vivid ink in magazines, or the pixelated photos posted of you.

He feels disgusted with the people who breach your privacy for their shameful desires, for their aching heart, but he knows that he is doing the exact same thing. But how can he help himself, when your lips are the identity of his statue, days and days of work uncovering the perfect angle.

The chisel breaks off chunks of your body, carving you from the rough edges, smoothing you like unblemished paper, the divine goddess you are. In a way, he feels just like that; a worshiper to a deity who will never know of his existence. But he reluctantly accepts his fate, in his quiet, cozy studio, and he brings you to life.

Under his fingers, under his guidance, you emerge from the stone with each tap, each chink, revealing yourself draped in shadows, ones he has never seen. He plays a torturous game with himself, itching to get back to his work when the sun rises, the furrow in his brow deepening every day he is away from his idea of you.

He grasps your chin, wishing there was living, moving flesh underneath him, but alas there is no movement. Only the tilt of your eyes glancing downwards, destined to never drag your gaze over his body, raking him with unseen flames.

Without another moment of hesitation, he inches closer, thinking if he squeezes his eyes hard enough, you’ll materialize in an ethereal manner, bringing his fantasies to life. But his nose only brushes the rough peak of yours, smooth yet never in the way skin would be.

And under the lamplight, he envisions that he is still uncovering parts of you, secret to the world, save for you and him. An empathy felt only for him, only his fingers prying away your barriers.

Your blood runs gray and stony, cold to the touch, where he runs his fingers down what he assumes to be the shape of your body, hidden in the pictures he uses as references. He thinks, a time ago, he disdained the people who did the very thing he’s guilty of at this moment.

Strange, though, his frenzy only grows with every new discovery he creates, mapping your body with the landmarks, the dips of your crescent shaped thighs, admiring how beautiful you look when you’re just… simply his.

But there comes a time when his work must end, when his brush and tools must be swept aside, so he can marvel in your glory. And where he expects to feel immense pride, he only feels guilt.

Disgust that churns his stomach, turning him inside out, skin green with envy. His references were all locally sourced, but how could he have foreseen any of this? It was a simple thing, the sweet girl who lived next door, too innocent to know the power her beauty held over him.

So his only choice of action is to come clean, to hand over the hammer that could easily destroy weeks, even months of hard, untainted work. A single blow would be all it takes, and when the hammer falls limp in your hands, he is more than confused.

He watches your lips separate, the same way he had imagined all your fluid motions, your eyebrows raised, knocking against one another as you turn to him, setting his skin on fire. And unlike you, his skin is not of stone.

“You… did this?” you ask, skeptically, as if you are doubting him. The only reason that leads him to further reveal his mishaps.

“You were too beautiful to resist,” he admits, lowering his gaze in shame. Anger thrums with his heartbeat, if only he had just asked for your permission!

But to his surprise, you turn back to yourself, a mirror image of you set in one singular moment, with your gaze pondering the floor, barraging it with your thoughtful questions, and the corner of your lip quirks upward, he hopes.

“This is a strange way to ask someone out,” you murmur, voice as soft as he had imagined those words leaving your lips. Exactly how he had envisioned it, although in his dreams, you were saying more than just that.

“Sorry?” He’s blanked out on other excuses, words to fill in the silence he wishes wouldn’t be so awkward. Majoring in art left no room for any friends, unless you counted the ones online, only known in their identity overseas.

“It’s lovely,” you settle for after a second of readjusting your thoughts. He can almost see them clicking together like a jigsaw puzzle before your silky hair casts a protective sheen around it.

He wants nothing more than to pry them back apart, inspect how your mind works, to finally see the inside of your morals, how far you’d be willing to traverse with him by your side.

“Lovely?” he asks, tentatively.

<><><><>

Truthfully, in all aspects, the conversation had seemed drawn out, bland if he might venture to share his true opinion. But when you're gliding down his skin, all his rationality buries itself into an impenetrable box and refuses to come back.

“Oh, fuck, yes, just like that,” he stammers into your ear, attempting for praise but sounding weaker than he had planned.

There's an astonished look on your face, curving your lips and sweeping the lilt of your cheekbones to the side as you pant into his neck, thighs trembling around him.

And your reluctance speaks volumes to him, so he presses back for once, speaks up to keep the one thing that's grounded him to art, keeping you sane in his presence. Or somewhat the other way around.

This time, he finds what he's looking for. With every gentle stroke, every deep thrust, he breaks you even further, exposing you to his hungry eyes. He drinks up every last bit of your vulnerable form, savoring the sounds that tear themselves from your tired throat.

He cradles you, long after you've drifted off. He knows there is no use in dreaming when he's living it right now, experiencing what it feels like to be content with just rubbing your skin, soothing the reddening patches with his cool touch.

You shift to face him, and the moonlight filters through the window to illuminate your radiating, peaceful expression, as serene as it was the day he caught you sleeping in the library. He's always wanted to see that face in his bed, facing him, with your skin pressed tightly together, slick and smooth, miles of what feels like one being.

He finally reaches out, and for a moment, he fears you will turn to stone under his touch. So he squeezes his eyes shut and waits for it to happen, for the inevitable to crash down onto him.

But it never does. In fact, all that meets him is warmth, rigid from the chill that creeps in through the walls. And he realizes something.

Your skin is not of stone, it never was.

[kitkatscabinet]

Step into my parlour, said the spider

Stepbro! Simon x reader

Warnings: this one’s kind of deranged. Simon is a fucked up little freak. I mean it when I say this is dark, read with discretion. Implications of murder, and non-con

Word count: 1.5k

Once again 141 server bringing out the worst in me, @chxrryghost @cooliofango see you guys in hell 🫡

Before you, life was a series of dull greys and monochromes, there was no warmth, just cold never-ending darkness that persisted in the form of his father's abuse. That didn’t matter now though, because nothing before you mattered.

Simon is nine years old when the angel (you) starts to live with them, he’s got no clue how his deadbeat of a father managed to finagle another woman into marrying him but he pays little mind to his new step-mum when he has you. 

You’re five years older than him, but you’re not like Tommy or dad at all. You’re kind and you tuck him into bed and give him cuddles and kisses that make him feel all fuzzy inside. You take him to the park and protect him from his dad. You try to hide the dark bruises that litter your skin, a consequence of shielding him, but Simon’s not so naive. 

He grows up hiding in your shadow, falling deeper and deeper into an obsessively deranged love for his saviour, the only person who loves him and treats him kindly. He seethes silently, waiting for the moment he’s big enough to protect you instead. 

By the time you’re sixteen, your mother has split, leaving you behind though you reassure Simon that you’d never have left him anyway. His father’s been out of a job for a while and you’ve been running yourself ragged to support Simon and Tommy. Tommy the bastard that he is doesn't appreciate the work you do and Simon is once again forced to grit his teeth and seethe as he watches you come home every evening like a zombie. Some mornings you don’t even make it to the bed to fall asleep, though Simon’s always waiting, dragging you under the covers before burrowing his way into your side. 

You let yourself get degraded by filthy men that slap your ass and call you names just for a measly tip. You’re one of the prettiest people on the planet which, unfortunately, attracts a lot of attention from the disgusting dregs of society. Boys your age and older, far too old to even consider glancing your way. The few brave enough to hover are always quickly scared off by Simon’s intense glares, and he preens when you pat his hair in thanks.

His dad notices too and Simon comes home from school one afternoon to find the man on top of you, hands wrapped around your neck as you struggle beneath him. A plate shatters over his dad's head and it’s not until Simon is on the floor and his old man is red in face, screaming at him that Simon realises what he’s done. 

You’re screaming and you shove his dad from behind, scooping Simon into your arms with adrenaline-fuelled strength you wouldn’t normally possess and are locking you and him in your shared room. Barricading the door and squishing Simon against you as your breath rattles. 

You fall asleep with Simon nestled against your chest, none the wiser to how his blood chants with the fervour of a thousand men, mine, mine, mine.

The universe finally seems to give you a break after that, his dad leaves the both of you alone and not long after your 18th birthday you get a cushy, well-paying job as a secretary for some hot-shot lawyer. Though Simon gets a little upset when you spend all your money on him, new clothes, new books for school, a GameBoy, whatever he wants. 

Best of all, his dad dies. The alcohol and drugs finally taking their toll on his body. (It’s not until a few years later that he’ll realise you were entirely too calm when the police came knocking. Serving them tea as you pretended to be shocked about the news.)

You get custody of him and Tommy and you move them into a much nicer neighbourhood. Though Simon’s not happy at having his own room and often sneaks back into your bed, knowing that you’ll simply sigh and open your arms for him, letting him snuggle against your chest. 

Simon should’ve known better, should’ve known that his happiness wouldn’t last. It’s not even a year into what you called the start of his new life that he comes home one afternoon from school to find you sobbing into your hands, hair and outfit dishevelled. Though you refuse to give him the details of what happened he manages to put two and two together from the state of your being and the knowledge that you’ve been fired. 

You take up waitressing again but it’s not enough. He’s not sure who ends up reporting it but a few days before his 14th birthday Simon gets taken away from you, no matter how much he kicks and screams. He tries to run away a few times but he’s always found and dragged away from you again. 

You move away not long after, having been offered a once-in-a-lifetime scholarship. Simon tries to understand as you explain through tears, kissing his forehead for the last time. He knows it’s selfish of him to feel betrayed but he can’t help it. Can’t accept that you’re leaving him. He doesn’t cry, instead, he immediately starts plotting. This is just a minor bump in the road, he’ll spend every waking moment until he’s eighteen perfecting his skills and plans and then nothing will keep you apart ever again. 

Time passes by excruciatingly slow, the only positive is that he’d finally grown even further, and had sprouted in height and musculature so much that he fears you might not recognise him. It takes him another extra year to find you, but when he’s twenty-three, with military resources at his disposal he finally, finally sees you again in person. 

You’re still the picture of perfection, clothes hugging your form so tantalisingly that Simon feels his cock throb in the confines of his pants just from seeing you. He steps forward, weaving through the crowd of the market only to stop in his tracks when a man wraps his arms around your midsection. Instead of rebuffing the touch you lean back and smile against him and Simon feels as if the Earth has been pulled from his feet. 

How could you do this to him?

He’s waited so faithfully for you all these years and you’ve replaced him? He watches as you kiss the interloper with a smile and Simon clenches his fists in fury so harshly his palms bleed. How many men had you let into your bed? How long did it take for you to forget him?

The plan’s changed. You’ve forced him into this. It’s not his fault that he’s had to plant cameras throughout your house. It’s not his fault that you’re so tantalising it forces him to break into your house, stealing your used panties to help get himself off. It’s not his fault you force him to learn you and your boyfriend’s schedule and it’s not his fault your scumbag partner doesn’t take his carefully worded hint to leave you. 

Your boyfriend is dead. Unfortunate, but needs must. Simon watches you sob into your pillow, hard as a rock as he imagines licking the tears from your cheeks and decides he can’t wait any longer. 

You’re so distraught that you don’t even notice Simon is in your house, you don’t notice until he swings the bedroom door open and you look up with a scream. He supposes he must make something of a terrifying sight, he’s a large man, and his face is covered by his trademark skull balaclava.

Simon allows you a few seconds to scramble around in panic before he crosses the distance, trapping your back to his chest and groaning as he humps into your ass. You scream, hitting at his arms as the tears start to flow anew and Simon throws you down on the mattress, weighing you down with his bulk. 

“Please, you don’t have to do this” you beg with teary eyes that do nothing but fuel his arousal. He does take pity on you though, restraining your wrists with his right hand and using his left to tug off his mask. He watches as your eyes gradually widen, elation filling his chest as recognition fills them. 

“Simon?” your voice wobbles and his name has never sounded better. Groaning, he rests his forehead against your collarbone, taking calming breaths to stop from cumming then and there. It’s okay though, he’s got all the time in the world now. You’ll spend the rest of your lives together, you’ll never be apart again.

[sitp-recs]

you got me hooked on harry x teddy !!! ive, hand on my heart, never before even considered that ship as a possibility and here i am now swiming in fresh waters of moral deprivity. much appreciated <33 a whole new batch of previously undiscovered fics just opened for me wohoo

on that note, could you please rec some of your favorite harry x teddy fics? thanks <33

ahhh I’m so very happy to hear this anon! I live to serve the small but mighty Hardy nation so I’m feeling very accomplished right now. hopefully I’ll convert even more readers into moral deprativity one fic at a time 😌 here are my top favorites, a special shoutout to LQT for their service as always 🫡 I also got a Tedrarry list if you’re interested :)))

grasp by onbeinganangel (E, 1k)

Teddy has wanted Harry forever. Of course he wants to be good for him.

Love is a Verb by @wolfpants (E, 1.7k)

The summer after Teddy graduates from Hogwarts, Harry takes him on a trip to the remote beaches of Land's End.

Coming Up for Air by @lqtraintracks (M, 2k)

I could have died of it, your tenderness toward me. Instead I decided to live.

so slide back down and close your eyes by lqtraintracks (E, 3k)

When the magic goes out at Harry’s place, and no one can get home, and it’s cold as a witch’s tit outside… well, what else are you going to do?

Beneath a Foreign Moon by lqtraintracks (E, 3k)

Harry visits Teddy in the middle of the night.

Simple As It Is, Complicated As You Need by lqtraintracks (E, 4k)

It's not something they do often, this whole 'Daddy' thing. But to be fair, they don't even have regular sex as often as Teddy would like either. It's not as though they've even admitted they're doing anything. One of the benefits and curses of both of them being Legilimens actually: Nobody ever has to talk.

Surface Texture by @the-starryknight (E, 5k)

I've drawn a hundred portraits, but none quite like Harry's. In the early hours of the morning, I lay him bare in charcoal and paper.

Waiting Under Vain by supergrover24 (E, 5k)

Teddy wants to know how sex really should be. Harry can't resist, no matter how much he tries.

When It Alteration Finds by lqtraintracks (E, 7k)

Teddy thinks this is the way to finally get what he wants. But there is more than one way to Harry's heart.

Holding Out for A Hero by @writcraft (E, 7k)

Even as he says no, Harry’s hands push into Teddy’s hair. Even as he protests, his lips connect with Teddy’s. Before Teddy can offer any reassurance his heart’s thumping wildly in his chest and Harry Potter’s kissing him as if there’s no tomorrow.

Seven Years Gone by suitesamba (E, 7k)

Seven years after his partner’s death, Harry has rebuilt his life with his friends’ help, but hasn’t managed to move forward romantically. Teddy Lupin, 28, is back in London for good after years of studying and working abroad. When he finds himself in need of some extra space at his new shop, he consults with Harry and Hermione, who have built a successful business around creating Wizarding Space.

Game, Set, Match by Writcraft (E, 13k)

Teddy is smitten, Harry is lonely and tennis seems like a great way to avoid dealing with this thing between them.

Putting Out Fires (with Gasoline) by lqtraintracks (E, 13k)

Teddy stays with Harry for a summer to help him figure out his life, or maybe to figure out his own, or to seduce his godfather, or maybe to fall in love.

Darling, Don’t Think Twice by @shiftylinguini (E, 18k)

Leaving the Aurors, and then England, after his divorce with Ginny was finalised was the best thing for Harry, and for Ginny, too ― but not for the godson who worshipped the ground he walked on. Now that he’s back, all Harry wants is to set up his own place, and to spend time with Teddy as he tries to fix their fractured relationship.

Bonus: a Drarry fic with some Hardy kissing

Wield Me by @tackytigerfic (E, 10k)

Draco Malfoy, blacksmith, is renowned through the magical world for his skill and exquisite creations. He could quite easily spend the rest of his days making pretty trinkets for the fae court, and being handsomely rewarded for the privilege. But why take the easy route when instead he could get involved in a dangerous mission with Unspeakable Harry Potter (who also happens to be Draco's... well, he's something, isn't he?).

[my-name-is-apollo]

Hello :3

I'm working in a little proyect… A comic (more like a graphic novel) of Artemis and Apollo stories, but i'm struggling with Apollo's lovers chronology 🫠

I will discard Daphne… I know if we took Ovid, she was his first love crush, but 1) She wasn't a lover, so… not a first love of Apollo :P And i want a romantic first love u.u 2) She is overrated, i want to give some credit to the underrated ones.

Then whe have Admetus, if we took the punishment for killing Python, but according to that, the Apollo's lover was Hymenaeus/Thessalian Hyacinthus… And i prefer the Spartan Hyacinthus and the version of Admetus servitude after killing the Cyclops.

There is Cyrene too… Apollo talking to Chiron about Cyrene was like a teenager falling in love, and could be his first enamourment. Also because he goes to Chiron to some advices. He wasn't sure about how to talk with Cyrene… Could be a first love.

And Branchus! I did read that Apollo saw him after coming from Delos riding a dolphin and… He was leaving Delos, his birth land, so could be a possibility of Branchus being the first love of Apollo. And Apollo was so smitten in this myth… He was so in love that got distracted and milk a billy goat LMAO That was a teenager in love! This also make me consider the idea of Branchus being his first love and boyfriend <3

I personally like him, but i also would consider Cyrene… And not having a chronology is makes the things hard. I need help… Please be my wise Chiron and give me your advices 🫡🙏

Oooh this one is a tough one!

About Daphne : understandable lol though yeah, I don't think you can exclude her entirely because the laurel tree was very sacred to Apollo and his cults.

Admetus is a bit tricky. On one hand, he is one of the argonauts, and their journey happens nearer to the Trojan war I believe, since Admetus' son participates in the trojan war. Adding to that, Asclepius' sons were also amongst suitors of Helen, and they participated in the war as well. So Apollo's servitude under Admetus for killing the Cyclopes also didn't happen early on in Apollo's life. But on the other hand, there is a version where Apollo had to serve for the act of killing the Python - which in most versions happens when he was a child - so he'd have been a pretty young god when he met Admetus. Adding to that, Hesoid has written the tale of Hermes stealing Apollo's cows when the latter was serving Admetus. The birth of Hermes and the cattle theft couldn't have happened just a few decades before the trojan war imo. So again, although in Hesoid's version Apollo falls in love with Hymenaeus, this version places the servitude fairly early on in Apollo's life. I used to hc is that since Admetus and Alcestis cheated death, they were allowed to live a very long life - this way I don't have to exclude any of the events that include him but happen at different times - but even that doesn't work because you need to fit Pelias (Alcestis' father and Jason's uncle) in the earlier part of the timeline and it just doesn't make sense :') so yeah, Admetus isn't the best choice either imo

Now onto Hymenaeus. I know theoi.com says that he is Thessalian Hyacinthus, but like. That's one interpretation. It's up to you to decide if they were the same person or not. Personally, I don't find the explanation given by theoi.com satisfactory and consider Hymenaeus and Hyacinthus different people. Hymenaeus would be a good choice. Not only is he mentioned by Hesoid, one of the oldest poets, this version also seems to place the event early on in Apollo's life like I've already said.

You can go for Hyacinthus too, especially if you want to ignore Hymenaeus. According to Callimachus, Apollo laid the foundation for Sparta. Given that Hyacinthus belongs to the first few generations of the Spartan royal family (2nd or 3rd) - it's possible that he was Apollo's first lover. Another detail is that, in the Homeric hymn to Demeter, Persephone is said to have been gathering flowers and one of them was hyacinth flowers! According to this, Hyacinthus' death happened even before Persephone married Hades.

Now Cyrene. I don't think she was his first lover. I've always imagined her to be one of the first few loves of Apollo...but if you look at the myths, the ones about their son Aristaeus seems to be set in a time closer to when Dionysus was born/lived on the earth. He is Dionysus' mentor/father figure in one version. He is also, in one version, responsible for the death of Eurydice (and Orpheus was a follower of Dionysus at that point). Aristaeus' son Actaeon is Dionysus' cousin, who was killed for peeping at Artemis. Also when Aristaeus was born, Hermes parades him around so...Cyrene must have happened after Admetus and Hymenaeus at least.

I've never given too much thought on where Branchus would fit tbh. But I looked up a bit more on him and - according to Strabo, Achilles' son Neoptolemus was killed by Machaereus, and Branchus was a descendant of Machaereus. But other than this, the myths I'd read on him don't involve any prominent mythical figures or events. If you wanna ignore Strabo's account, you can make him Apollo's first lover.

Of the lovers that you've mentioned, i think it'd be either Hyacinthus or Hymenaeus. Personally though, I've always imagined one of the Muses (or all of them at the same time? Haha) to be his first lover. It makes sense to me because he was trained under them.

All that said, I cannot pin point who his first lover was. Because we have contradicting versions, some of which you'll probably have to ignore if you want a coherent story. So which ones you want to ignore, I'll leave it up to you. I hope this helps you a bit!

[urhoneycombwitch]

when you're horny again (godspeed lulu 🙏🏻🛐) would you write something about reader who isn't vocal during sex? Like maybe they grew up in a small house/have always been very conscious of the neighbors if they live in an apartment so the most noise they make is just like, whispering and breathing?

And Eddie doesn't mind per se because he can still tell when R is feeling good and they're still making noise it's just... mouse equivalent

Maybe one day they go out to the middle of nowhere in his van or reader is just really feeling good when the house is empty and they know no one will hear them, actually making sounds when they're close

But then they finish and start hiding their face under a pillow/against Eddie's neck and giggling like "God, I sound so stupid and pathetic." And Eddie's all: 10/10 loved it, busted early, would do it again– actually, yeah, let's do it again don't hold back :D

I live to serve 🫡 this was so fun to write tysm for the ask!!

my baby puts his mouth on me

[crazylittlejester]

*Slowly slides an opinion to the center of the table*

I know Warriors is a honorable character that does their bestest buuuuuutttt…

I need more morally grey Warriors tbh. I want a Warrior that will do morally questionable things to achieve a goal that furthers the betterment of a greater picture, whether that be to get the shadow or to defeat a small group of trouble makers. I like the idea that at the end of the day Warriors, due to environment and societal pressure, will do what it takes, even if it’s ugly to protect and serve those he cares for.

Probably sounds so out of character tho but I like the thought.

Hello again, wish you easy studies and success

✨🧚

The joys of being anonymous

this is definitely one way ive seen people explore his character, but one of the things we’ve REALLY seen from him especially in recent updates is how kind and gentle he is. Like yes he will absolutely get done what needs to get done, he’s the one who would be able to shove emotions aside the fastest and get the job finished, but I don’t think he’d ever be able to rationalize something like causing harm to others for the greater good, he’d spend an INSANE amount of time trying to find a work around to save both (now i DO have a fic with Evil Wars planned out where this is like. The EXACT line of reasoning that led him down the dark path alskkdkdkd, his desperate need to protect the kingdom and feel like he had more control over his situation and life led to him taking over it and making several other bad choices, but that fic is a whole “what if” scenario where Regular Wars and Evil Wars kinda face off because somehow there ended up bein’ two of him and yeah aldkdksl i could do a whole yap about that but it is after 3 am where I live and my brain stopped working)

I do agree that he definitely works hard towards the big picture and he’d be able to force himself to make upsetting decisions or focus on the task at hand instead of letting his emotions cause him to freeze in battle (which is why I firmly believe in him being more of the team medic than Hyrule because his ability to not panic and to focus on HELPING is probably unmatched, plus I think he would’ve gotten actual training to deal with injuries in the military. and also its just a hc of mine that he was trained as a field medic before all the Hero Business uprooted his life.) but anyway I personally think at the end of the day he cares so much for others that he’d try to find a way to save everyone. This man carried fairy food around with him the ENTIRE time and had it in a fairly easy place to access so that he could feed any fairy they MIGHT come across, he’s a big sweetheart who is gonna fight for the bigger picture and all the little things along the way. if he’s sacrificing anything for the greater good, it’s himself (i wuv him very much, he’s my special guy and as you can see i am so so normal about him *squeezes him like a rubber chicken and pats him on the head*)

but yeah that’s an interesting idea to entertain. it would be so easy for him after everything he’d been through to be cold and more hardened by the war and trauma, and it definitely could’ve shaped him to be that way, but he truly is a respectable and honorable person and I really like how he’s written in LU :)

EASY STUDIES AND SUCCESS TO YOU AS WELL 🫡🫡🫡

[moxfirefly]

Oohh Bestie you've done it this time!!!

Girl you already know... our trash gremlin man of metal ⚙️ *daddy* ⚙️

"You know I'm your right? I only have eyes for you."

"I choose you, and I need you to trust that my decision is final. Trust me."

[Stake] and [Remind]

Girl. Do your magic!!

Friend you’ve got it 🫡

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

The tavern was a staple of the village. On most nights it would usually be crammed to the brim with the drunken laughter of the locals. On specific nights it was borderline empty due to it only being inhabited by one of the lords.

On this specific night you had sat down with every intention of enjoying just that.

Much to the dismay of a stubborn and foolish man.

Perhaps he’d forgotten his place? Perhaps the calm sounds of cups and bottles from the barkeep had lulled him into the tavern.

Either way, his most fatal mistake was to take the seat opposite you in a weak attempt to strike up a conversation.

“Quite nice when this place isn’t filled with the village drunk, eh?” He thought he was being coy, his smile flashing stained teeth and not so innocent intentions. “I wish it be like this more often than not. What’s such a pretty lady like you doing out this late?” His hand slid across the table, to which you smoothly retreated by placing yours in your lap.

“I believe it’s best for you to leave, sir” Your tone wasn’t malicious but you sure knew this man had about two minutes to live if he didn’t haul ass outta here.

“Leave? Well only if you leave with me, how bout it?” His grin spread across his cheeks.

You heard a door open not too far off behind you. The man turned, lifting two fingers in motion for the barkeep to pour two more drinks.

The second you felt hands on your shoulder and that cigar scent that naturally accompanied who’d just walked in, it took all your resolve not to stifle a laugh.

“Make that three, Elijah” Heisenberg’s voice was liquid smooth, a tone you’d come to enjoy greatly in your time spent with him.

The man before you quickly turned and his gaze was worth more money than you could ever fathom.

Heisenberg’s hands massaged your shoulders, the tingling they provided instantly made you shiver. The man before was caught between wanting to stand up and run or to keep perfectly still.

“My lord-“ He stammered out.

Heisenberg busied himself briefly by cupping your chin, he moved your head to look up. You were met with a handsome face, and a wolffish grin. Naturally he leaned down and whispered something to you that only made your smile spread and your cheeks tint pink.

The barkeep approached and settled the ordered drinks on the table. The man before you didn’t dare lift to grab his own and something about the way his face broke out in a sweat only served to make your grin more noticeable. Behind you Heisenberg had now began to play with your hair, he hummed before lifting a brow. “It’s rude to not drink when a lord has so humbly offered” His status had always meant jack shit to Karl but it never got old watching the villagers cower when he put his position above them. With shaky hands the man scooted close to lift the drink but the sudden notion that perhaps his drink could’ve been tampered with had him now all the more worried.

He stumbled and quickly bowed his head in shame. “My lord please if you could find it in your heart to forgive me, I was not aware that she-“ The sharp end of blade hovered in front of him. The shiny tip just close enough to have him cross eyed. All it would take would be a flick of his hand, jut out his chin, a bored movement and it would be the end for him. He held his breath, a whimper dying in the back of his throat. “Listen let me stop you there pal, as much as fucking with your peace of mind has entertained the two of us I can tell you that fucking her is a thousand times more entertaining” You felt leather finger tips on your scalp, a slightly more possessive hold. “I think he has learned his lesson Karl, as well as soiled himself” Your words fell from your lips like a honey, leaning back into his determined hold, you smiled up at him. “Take me home” And with that and a gentle shove of his hand the knife fell on the table.

As you gathered your things and Karl helped into your coat, you didn’t spare the man another glance. His tearful expression wasn’t enough to make him realize just how lucky he had gotten. While he wouldn’t admit it, you knew whatever your said would go with Karl. A simple request as being taken home would not be fought nor questioned.

The walk back had been surprisingly quiet, the cool air perhaps could’ve been reason enough. The icy winds had picked up now as night fell and much to your surprise Karl hadn’t continued his banter.

Something was very much working in his brain, and those pesky thoughts he tended to seal off would now have to be painstakingly cut open if you were you find out what exactly was running amok in his head.

At the factory, as you hung up your coat and scarf you took the second to reach for this own coat before he could. Delicate fingers brushing across the lapels of worn fabric as you slipped it off his shoulders. “You know I’m yours right? I only have eyes for you.” It was honest, scattered across the hairs on the nape of his neck. Whispered so delicately it made his skin breakout and something metallic clang against its surface. Those eyes of his sought you out, cold and calculating and too beautiful for his own good. “Is that so?” His voice felt just a tad soft, questioning the authenticity of your confession. Your lips found a scar on his throat as you moved around to stand before him, your lips tickled by the scruff of his beard as your lips found his ear. “I choose you, and I need you to trust that my decision is final…” You pressed a tender kiss to the lobe, before catching his gaze in an intimate stare. “Trust me.” Was all you needed to write the final period of your confession. There was something tortured that briefly flashed in his features, a haunting ghost that always lingered whenever the eyes of the villagers weren’t on him. You often caught it, felt that ghostly presence in the early morning hours when he would fuse his body to yours and feed the famished parts of his soul that had been neglected for so long.

Your hands cupped his face, thumbs caressing the scar on his lip as you stood on the tips of your toes to kiss him with a tenderness that broke him all over again like the first time it happened.

Naturally this led him to press you against the desk in the garage, and sit you there as he deepened the kiss and felt any ounce of doubt melt away with something so simple as your urgent words for more. Karl felt everything humanly possible surge though him as he hiked up your dress and undignified whatever garment in his way. He wanted your warmth on this cold winters evening. He craved nothing more than to swallow you whole and selfishly keep you like the diamonds found in the mines.

It was so achingly simple to slip inside of you, to feel that warmth engulf him and destroy him all at once. To say love was the word wasn’t enough, he needed something much stronger, more defined and new than love to describe how you set his soul ablaze. It was somewhere between the way your small hands untucked his shirt to feel at the scarred flesh of his back that he wanted to tell you he would keep you here forever. Because how could something so beautiful as you, equally ache and fight for him?

Your hand found his throat as he gently rocked against you, stretching you so deliciously it could make your head loll in dizzying pleasure. You gripped his throat, made his eyes open and land on your own.

‘I’m yours’ you mouthed at him, lips parted as a moan escaped you. You watched what those words did to him, made him sink deeper and harder into your heat and fuck you so slow and yet with so much meaning. His forehead pressed against your own, a groan so broken and needy exiting him.

His hands tighten around your thighs, as he watches obsessively with how you lose yourself around his cock. It guts him, it makes the slow rocking against you all the more meaningful as he watches your hands find his pecs and dig into the flesh as the first wave of release consumes you. He fucking loves how your eyes can’t stay open enough with how atrociously satisfying this is to you, because it’s in the way your thighs shake and cramp and your mouth hangs open in deliverance. Karl has to watch it even as the vice grip around his cock makes him light headed from the way it yanks his release as well. Make him push his sweaty forehead against your own and rub like a starved animal for affection.

He can’t keep his eyes open when he says it, runs the words against your lips like a ghostly lover would.

“I’m yours too…”

And when your hands find his chest and dig into the skin of his pecs, eyes unable to remain open because he’s making you cum so hard its earth shattering to witness it. Karl feels the vice like grip yank his own release out of him, makes him feel hazy and so atrociously satisfied.

“I’m going to stop you right there pal, mostly because at this rate fucking with your peace of mind doesn’t hold a candle to fucking this delightful

[lenaboskow]

I remember when you first posted your Tommy’s age spec thing, and I totally agree with you, I think people who think he’s much younger don’t know much about the military. My ex is military so I know a bit. And I think I’ve seen you mention military experiences too? There’s absolutely no way that he went through training and served any manner of active duty time and got out and did his time at the fire academy and was there for a reasonable amount of time to get comfortable, as he seems in Chimney Begins and is like 38-40. No. Way.

i’m a military brat and was going to enlist but got denied because of a diagnosis i didn’t know they officially diagnosed me with (pots) 🫡 so i know the process. and that’s all assuming he did his time and bolted at the first opportunity. so when tm said he was 40? i said FUCK no

also as a side note: something i’ve only seem brought up maybe once in canon (during the jinx ep) is that sometimes it takes years to get accepted to the academy. another thing i forgot to include is he would’ve been required to have his emt license before applying… that adds another few months (not sure if la has any expedited programs, i live on the east coast)

[patroxlos]

hi! ive read your character analysis on ken sato and while they were specifically for your series, i found them really interesting. im planning to make a ken sato series myself, though i do intend it as a non-ultraman AU, but after reading ur latest analysis i kinda thought “yeah this might not work” dkdmdksks but thank you so much for the analysis, they were insightful, and thank you so much for putting your works out here, ive really enjoyed home base so far, and the vibe of the series is really up my alley. i hope youre doing well with your academics as well, and that youre always in good health & have enough to live comfortably!!

(im not sure if this mssg sounds negative or anything but i intend to just talk ab this, get it off my chest to the person who have written all the analysis. i did want to ask what you think would be viable in a non-ultraman AU but that would be crossing a line esp since im not close enough to u to discuss ideas for my own works akskdkw anyways this mssg has become too long!! again i hope u are always happy and healthy!!)

OMG please don’t feel discouraged from writing your own series I’m sure it would be lovely !!! AUs are a big part of fanfic culture and a non-Ultraman AU can definitely work!!

No worries at all if you need help w figuring out the AU hehe I think that as long as the following elements are still present, you’ll still be able to keep the essence of Ken Sato

He has a very complicated relationship with his father

He lacks any CLOSE relationships with others outside of his mom. I emphasize “close” bc I can see him being friendly and conversational with others and fitting in a crowd, maybe even have regular drinking buddies, but he would be the type of guy who you realize at the end of the night that you don’t know anything about him

He needs Emi in his life. There are a lot of fics that focus on Kenji post-Emi when she already left and that’s okay! I’m just saying that he won’t be the person he is at the end of the film without Emi, and SINGLE fatherhood is a BIG THEME of the film. Try incorporating her in any way if you want to write Ken post-character development. Also, remember that prior to Emi, Ken is self-serving! So don’t be afraid to write him to be selfish for that period.

He struggles with feelings of alienation from his culture and people. It doesn’t have to be the main focus of his struggles in your AU it’s just that we shouldn’t erase how he feels about being Japanese

Thank you for your kind words and I hope this helps!

Remember too that you’re always allowed to disagree with others regarding how they characterize Ken hehe just stick to your gut and do him justice in your own way 🫡

[uhohdad]

RAAAHH WHEN IS AFTERMATH COMING OUUT

((take your time!! i’m just hella excited /gen))

ugh i know 😓 i hate making y’all wait. you know dad lives to serve, for the people by the people 🫡

THE AFTERMATH wasn’t originally planned so unfortunately it might take me a bit to work through 😭 don’t worry dad is grinding for y’all. as soon as i have an estimation i will let you know and then ultimately miss the deadline bc i’ll get carried away lmao. dads got his flaws too 😔

[anpiels]

A collection of TGAA/DGS doodles/sketches that I never did anything with :]

Let it be known that it's very possible I will continue some of these but I haven't posted anything in a bit and this is my blog so I can post whatever I want

asoryuu reunion of sorts because they're in love to me

2. growing older with someone + adopting your late father's hairstyle and facial hair (or trying to) because you respect him

3. um. this

4. something i intended to finish so hard but then I got scared because i'll have to redraw the flowers on Susato's kimono and I don't want to do that rn but. sisters :]

5. Herlock "mental illness haver" Sholmes, detective and new father and newly lost of his most trusted investigative partner

6. on a happier note, ginasusa :] they are very special to me and I think Susato is Definitely strong enough to carry Gina around so she should get to I think

let me know which of these if any you'd like to see finished 🫡 Noah live to serve

[another-lost-mc]

thoughts on obey me as an actual game? anything u wan a change if given the chance?

it honestly makes me mad everytime i think about the obvious lack of effort for world building but specifically for the nobility plotline... sooooo underutilized it's upsetting. like i've read isekai manhwas with better use/grasp of the nobility and political climate... also (can't remember if it's from swd or nb) the fact that lucifer and the brothers' are basically living off an allowance/salary set for them by diavolo is just... ugh. they couldn't have given them actual positions with titles ??? they couldn't have brought their title as princes/lords of the underworld into play ??? like i get they did it for the game, for shits and giggles and idk maybe it's just me lawl

sorry for ranting lmao i've sent asks a couple times and i quite like your insights and takes on things. was wondering if you'd have anything to say 🫡

I love talking about this stuff! I know it's a dating game and the lore/world building is basically an afterthought because the game's focus is on MC's relationships with the characters now, and not necessarily on the world/characters before MC existed or became involved.

I've mentioned before that the world feels really empty to me at times because they don't really talk about characters that exist (in a meaningful way) unless they're the established dateables (or soon-to-be dateables) for MC. Many of them are nameless demons/angels (the demon lords, the owner of The Fall that's been mentioned more than once by his title but not name), generic sorcerers and angels we know exist in the other realms. (For some reason, Uriel has been name-dropped twice with very little info besides that.)

Part of my motivation for developing the angel/demon OCs is to give more context and depth to the world that MC interacts with, even if they don't necessarily interact with MC in their own day to day lives. There are countless Devildom businesses that keep the realm running – who owns them? Who are the demons that develop their technology and vehicles? Who are the demons that acquire the raw materials used to build these items, or design/build the Devildom's architecture and homes? Who are the professsors at RAD and the other students? They're probably not all demons born from nobility, so where did they come from? What do the parts of hell outside the Devildom metropolis look like? Do they live on other levels? Rings? How easy can you travel between them, or why would you want to (or not want to)? Who are the demons that make up the demon armies and where do they live? Also, how in the world did Solomon end up in pacts with so many powerful demon lords, and now that he's not a power-hungry king, how do those pacts serve him (and the demons he's bound to)?

So yeah, maybe I think about the game world a lot because there's so much potential that goes ignored. I understand that the game isn't meant to be an in-depth look at the Devildom or Celestial Realm outside of what's relevant for character development or plot purposes, but it would be nice to have answers for some of the obvious questions that come up over time. Some of the information we're given in Nightbringer feels incomplete or doesn't match the tone/characterization we were presented with in the OG game either which makes me worry about continuity issues and retconning going forward.

(This got long so the rest is going behind a read-more link. lol)

When I started developing/outlining The Fall, it was meant to be a personal interpretation of the game's lore and my own creative spin on filling in all the gaps. At the heart of it, it's a love story between two angels-turned-demons. But the worlds they live in change over time, and there's a lot of nuance and deeper insights to explain how and why those things happen.

Some of the topics I wanted to explore in this project include:

Rank/power structures in the Celestial Realm. Basically, how do the various ranks of angels interact with each other, and how do they view angels with ranks higher or lower than their own?

Xenophobia. How angels and demons interact and perceive the other races/species. Metatron is an angel that was originally born as a human and ascended to the Celestial Realm after being chosen by Father to do so. Knowing that, how does his former human life impact what other angels think of him, if it does at all? (Spoiler: It does.) There's also significant issues that come up with the arrival of fallen angels, although Meta and Azra falling has very different reactions compared to Lucifer and the others later.

The role of the Seraphim. This story begins before the Celestial War with Lucifer, so he and Michael are still the two primary beacons of power in the Celestial Realm. How often do they agree or disagree on handling disputes, and how do they resolve their differences of opinion? I also wanted to explain the role of other Seraphim – basically, it's not just Michael or Lucifer calling the shots, and the other Seraphim are expected to lend their voices to discussions/debates about serious matters and it's treated almost like a council where majority vote wins if they can't all agree on something.

Side note: I really don't like the idea that Michael (or any of the other Seraphs) are free to do whatever they want without any sort of accountability or repercussions. I think the things Michael might want to do (ex. sneaking into the Devildom in disguise) and what he should do (literally anything but that) are two completely different things, and being emotional/grief-stricken isn't a good excuse for a leader that wants to YOLO his way through his problems when he has an entire realm of citizens he is responsible for. Gabriel is my solution to some of Michael's emotional impulses and rash decision making. He's the angel OC that acts as Michael's voice of reason when he struggles to separate logic and reason from emotions. He keeps Michael in-check when he wants to do things that are too erratic or personal, but he whole-heartedly supports Michael's plans or ideas that benefit the Celestial Realm. I like to imagine Gabriel and Barbatos are similar in that way and have the potential to be good friends as they bond and commiserate over their loyalties to leaders that sometimes act like spoiled children.

Fallen angels in general. There are a lot of fallen angels besides Lucifer and his brothers. Meta and Azra are two angels that go through the process of falling together and I had a lot of ideas about how I think that looks on a physical and spiritual level. There are differences for angels that are cast out by the Seraphim for breaking the rules/putting the Celestial Realm at risk vs. angels that choose to fall vs. angels that are punished by Father for defying him regardless of what the Seraphim choose. Azra and Meta's motivations and reasons for how/why they fall are slightly different, and how that plays out (and the impact on the angels left behind) are different too. They don't have a pre-existing relationship with Diavolo to pave the way for their new lives in the Devildom either, so how do they cope? Who helps them start their new lives, and how do they navigate being strangers in a foreign land while undergoing the physical and emotional changes of becoming demons? Diavolo's father is still the Demon King when they fall and it's only Belial's involvement that keeps things from completely going off the rails after their arrival. The fact that Belial himself is a former angel has its own significance. There isn't a manual or one-size-fits-all approach to this either, and Azra and Meta demonstrate how the Devildom's negligence of their newest citizens can lead to disastrous results sooner or later.

Navigating tension and conflict between the Celestial Realm and Devildom. There is violence that breaks out between the two realms, so how does the Celestial Realm respond to that sort of crisis? Once in the Devildom, there's a glimpse of how the Demon King (Diavolo's father) handles these developments and why the conflict happened at all. (Spoiler alert: Belial is an antagonist in this part of the story for a reason.)

What is Solomon up to? He has all these pacts with powerful demons and he's no stranger to the Devildom, so of course he's going to be interested to meet some new fallen angels – especially one with as much power and common interests as Metatron. Solomon is very human in this story too. He has his own selfish motivations for getting involved, but he also shows genuine care and concern for those he considers friends. He gets involved maybe more than he should, but for good reasons. He's a useful bridge to help the demons understand some of the obvious implications of having ex-angels living in their world. He also manipulates things a bit behind the scenes because of his connection to Barbatos (and therefore Diavolo) but there's no immature feud souring their relationship in this story. (Gonna be honest, I do not think Barbatos's problem with Solomon had anything to do with his place on Solomon's list of demons.)

Lesser demons and the nobility. I wanted to explore the lives of lesser demons versus the lives of noble demons. Where they live, what they do for a living, how they view demons of higher/lower ranks than themselves and other races. Zee's an example of a lesser demon who does whatever he needs to do to earn a living for himself, and Azra doesn't have much clout behind him so they almost meet each other as equals. It's an interesting look at their friendship and the way connections to more powerful demons (like Belial) help them both make better lives for themselves in the central Devildom where they eventually grow their business and social reputations. Meta, despite being a fallen Seraph, has practically no motivation or reputation to speak of and this has its own consequences later. But Zee's not the only lesser demons in this story, and if you thought the nobility in Nightbringer had problems with fallen angels, the lesser demons are far more hostile towards them – they're the ones on the front lines whenever war with the Celestial Realm breaks out, so its understandable they might not be very welcoming. For the demon nobility, the ones that aren't actively criticising fallen angels are mostly indifferent to them, but that's not such a great thing either.

There are other areas I wonder about that I don't explore in The Fall, but I hope to do so for the various OCs and their stories. The Devildom's power hierarchy/use of titles is one of them. The demons of the Ars Goetia all of their own armies at their disposal, and some are dukes while others are kings. That doesn't seem to have any meaning or impact in the game world, but surely there are ways that can affect how the demon nobility interacts with each other? It certainly made a difference to Solomon, I doubt he would've wanted so many pacts if the demons didn't have anything to offer him at the time. The how and why of Solomon's pacts is it's own area of exploration, which I hope to do with Belial and Bathin.