#PLEASE GIVE ME MORE ASKES ABOUT LITERALLY ANYTHING 💀 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thatdeadaquarius · 6 months

Note

Hello there, friend I'm here for fluff

OK, this has been on my mind for a while

But like

The reader is just becoming the biggest parent to the Benny's adventure team kids

And the wolfs

We are like a parent of like 27

Knitting and making food brushing razors hair(let's be for real, you would hear a crunch when you brush it)

I'm not gonna lie

Do these kids know what spices are?

Cuz when I think about it

Razor hasn't had shit so he's has the least tolerance for spice

He would probably cry if you feed him a pepper

Bennett has tried spicy food but does go well with it

And not completely sure if fischl has had a spicy food before

But what flavor does mondstadt add to their food??

These kids need the damn flavors

AHDHAKALL FERAL ANIMAL AQUARIUS- ANOTHER PLATONIC ASK AAHHHHGGGGDJJSFHSAK!!!!!

AND ITS YOU!! ITS- ITS- ONE OF THE WRITING RULERS OF SAGAU (FOR ME AT LEAST) <3 !!!!!!!!

You cooking in genshin all anime studio ghibli style looking like food from god (literally): ⬆️

Sun: Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: Benny’s Adventure Team! (Bennett, Fischl, Razor), Diluc, mentions of other Mond characters

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

^^ The posts being referenced in ask, (OG Razor ask) (Benny + Razor) and a more direct sequel, a part 2? a part 4 atp?? of this post (Imposter/Not Dark AU + Razor + Diluc) ^^

OMFG

ALRIGHT LISTEN UP BITCHES

SINCE UR IN TEYVAT

YOU GONNA COOK LIKE TEYVAT

AS IN-

SHIT BE SUPER EASY TO COOK, AND MASS MAKE DEPENDING ON COMPLEXITY OF DISH

(So, like Zhongli's special Bamboo Shoot Soup is like getting made... once a year if you read the little desc. for that dish 💀)

AND THEYRE ALL LIKE-

ANIME GORGEOUS FOODS ✨️❤️‍🔥

OKAY SO

PROMO TIME-

U GUYS HAVE TO WATCH THE ANIME "CAMPFIRE COOKING IN ANOTHER WORLD"

Bc that's mostly where this inspo gonna come from to both be realistic cooking + best parts of video game cooking

A guy gets isekai’d and instead of hero powers he just gets the skill of "online grocery shopping" LMAO

and ofc he gets insta gifted whatever he orders and starts making dishes and adding spices and regular stuff you know. like soy sauce.

but the best part is the food in that world is like British medieval soup shit

like barely salted, no spices definitely, no sauces, its barren

so he ends up attracting all kinds of interest that want to eat his cooking ofc

And it gives buffs too!

dw i didnt spoil anything u don't learn in the first episode, but that's just to say that's exactly whats happening here

u DO have to manually collect more ingredients but its so worth it, also u can just buy in bulk or put a commission thru the adventurer guild

tbhhh now that i say that, that could be how u end up drawing in Benny’s Adventure Team even more, bc they just take all ur quests for collecting ingredients around Mond!!

(u have to actively sneak behind their back and whisper to Katheryne that you want to put in other food quests in other guilds tho, silly kids will absolutely go running around Liyue and crazy shit just to have an adventure and do smth for you + eat ur banger food lol)

omfg the first time u barbecue smth???

the wolves, Razor, and Andrius??? Go feral.

Fischl and Benny who were already on their way to u guys to hang out again start booking it thru the woods, dodging hilichurl camps (thatve since settled down and been v peaceful to the wolves + anyone in the woods of Wolvendom after u started living there)

they knowww ur cookin smth fucking amazing

(and u even have some hilichurls and mitachurl that wander close to Andrius’ edge of the woods to shyly beg for scraps,, u give them a portion)

Razor was actually lookin at u like u hung the stars just for him when u gave him a homemade barbecue sauce to put on his food

(u acc may have done that to Teyvatians according to Andrius + the stories u overheard from Springvale…)

ok but the amount of begging u get for desserts like-

No, Razor u cannot have chocolate cake/cupcakes after every meal, u need to take care of ur teeth

(u use ur collection of mora-monster-donations for comms for more ingredients and living supplies like fabric + furniture, u cant afford dental on top of that for ur boy)

Fischl dutifully declares you the “best chef in the kingdom” and writes down all ur recipes (u have them auto-stored in ur settings obv but it cant hurt to have a physical copy, and they look so happy doing it, u don't have the heart to tell them its not necessary-)

Benny insists on both giving u extra ingredients when he takes ur commissions, and giving u handmade trinkets or weapons for the meals!!

No!! He will not take “im good” for an answer!! ur sharing ur home-cave with him, taking care of his best friend Razor, and now feeding him food better than Liuli Pavilion!!! There’s no way he can just take all that and give nothing back!!!!

and theyre not the only ones getting some food tbh

when the knights begin patroling near Wolvendom and slowly all of Mondstadt to search for their “All God”, u break up the beginnings of a fight between 2 confused knights and the now peaceful hilichurl camp at the edge of Wolvendom

U offer some snacks u were going to give Benny’s Adventure Team when they got back (u made little triangle sandwiches, rice balls, etc. finger foods, and u made plenty extra bc u kno their teenage appetites lol)

the knights and hilichurls nearly cried with appreciation, which made for a hilarious sight when the teens actually showed up lmao

ur wearing ur cloak, bc u dont wanna take on that whole “creator of worlds” title just yet, and the kids helped verify u werent anyone suspicious (Benny + Fischl keep ur godly secret, theyre the best like that 🥰)

the knights just swing by for snacks occasionally (they also either pay u in trade or with mora, theyre not bullies)

another person who gets flavored food privileges is the lazy librarian witch herself

u also sometimes pick Razor up from Lisa’s tutoring and bring “the best tea and tea snacks in the world” along with to share with Lisa and him

(she is also fully aware after awhile of meeting u of what u are, and fully believes this is why the food must be enchanted to be so good, but u dont want to be treated super reverently she can tell, so she keeps ur secret too and is just extra flirty when u come by lol)

(Razor refuses to let his pare- Lupical move out of ur cozy cave to the library, so he sometimes hauls u away when Lisa flirts too much LMAO)

…and the moment you've been waiting for.

Yes, Diluc got to try ur food that night he was searching Wolvendom for signs of the god of Teyvat

tbh Diluc was half-convinced that shit was a fever dream.

a bunch of sleepy wolves, a coffee table in the stone colosseum, a giant spirit wolf licking a big plate clean, the wolf-kid glaring at him, and you.

you with gold eyes, staring right thru his soul, like you already know everything there is to know about him, (like the way Kaeya looked at him that night),

like he doesnt even have to introduce himself

and he doesnt, u just lightly smack Razor’s hands until he gets rid of his claymore w/a pout, since Diluc had long since dropped his,

and grab a plate, piling on what leftovers u could, and turn back around from the coffee table to smile at him, patting the cushion-seat beside u for him to join

The giant glowing wolf licks his lips and watches him, the wolf-kid’s creepily watches him, and you, with eyes gold in teh light of a simmering bonfire just past the table, watch him

he just sits down and begins to eat.

its the best food he’s ever had, its his dad’s favorite dish, but not realistically, but the way memory embellishes a dish so much it can never be tasted again, except its right here. in front of him. u pour some wolfhook juice for him, and offer him a napkin to wipe his mouth and eyes

Diluc visits often after that, obviously.

u give him snacks too, and when he lets the staff try some, Adeline will not stop harassing him abt gettin ur recipes/ingredeints so u get him to pay Fischl to get a copy of their recipe book :)

including blank pages for future entries, and Fischl is literally glowing with happiness, would not stop monologuing abt ur food for weeks (send help Oz wants some peace and quiet sometimes)

Oh Diluc absolutely told the Favonius knights he found you. But he’s not saying where LMAO

Jean is actually begging him, Diluc ik u hate the knights but this is an international investigation-

this is the closest Diluc has ever gotten to getting under Venti’s skin.

when he told him this at Angel’s while bartending, he just casually ofc said this, just his smug little smirk, and the anemo god cracked a glass and everything- esp when he said he tried ur cooking??

he's gotta start looking over his shoulder in the city bc not only is Venti stalking him, the entirety of Mondstadt’s citizens are glaring at him in envy everywhere he goes LMAOO

(Venti now has a bar glass or too on his tab to pay off as well)

mans is literally paying u in weapon/artifact materials/mora to make him lunch one day and Venti nearly lunges over the counter

(Diluc purposefully ate it in front of him 💀)

ur food is the ultimate, “u could make a religion out of this!” /ref

like Diluc fully gives u offerings of ingredients he can pay for shipping from other countries + along with regular materials after grinding in domains

does the rest of Mondstadt + the world find out where u are?

only if Diluc lets them tbh. LMFAO

☆

bk trashfire my beloved <3 love ur ideas and stuff, goes without even saying im so sorry i took actually forever to respond :’(

hope u have a great weekend and i did this little side story justice for you

Safe Travels BK Trashfire,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡my beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit / @chinuneko / @silvers-tongue

@kiyomi-uchiha777

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kimsmuse · 1 year

Text

yandere dilf !!

this was written in gaps, so im not that confident about it?? but here goes nothing. also i fucking love dilfs god. get me a dilf please.

also this was inspired by this one man i saw on my way to my uni admissions and he was there for his daughter 💀 put me in jail fr

the dilf here is in 40s something and the reader in early 20s n i think she switched universities to do her master’s (if you do not like this type of thing please look away <3)

gender neutral!reader (it might be implied femal but the pronouns are they/them) 1.7k words. warnings for age gap yandere behavior, kidnapping, manipulation, obsessive behaviour? dilf is a delusional yandere fr.

yandere!dilf who is (clichè i know, please look away but this is the best thing i can think of) your father’s friend, but not best friend or anything because he lives in another city, but oh you’re moving there for uni and your parents can’t think of anybody else to contact so they call him up !!

but he’s busy when you’re moving so he can’t help :(( oh but did i tell you he was the one who chose that apartment for you to move into?? it was so close to him and his friend said to keep an eye on you so he chose the one which wasn’t even like 5 minutes away. and he wants to be of help to his friend so bad but these board meetings and stuff ://

best believe that when he’s free he’s at your apartment with a bunch of new home essentials, a few groceries that you might need, and this man is ringing up your door. now neither of you had seen each other, heard about the other from the common point that was your father, yes. but to open the door and be in the presence of a man that is that gorgeous?? and he’s just wearing sweatpants and a tshirt?? god.

not to mention a thin chain around his neck that leads to inside his shirt…. kill me really.

anyway, but he’s equally taken back because um, this was his friend’s kid. literal kid. he shouldn’t be thinking about how alluring your appearance was, get your head straight, he tells himself, as you invite him. aren’t the shorts too short….

if sexual tension could have been visible, man would your apartment be full of it.

but he’s nothing but resisting, it’s how he has been single for so long, it’s not that he doesn’t like commitment, but… he likes to tell everyone that he just hasn’t found his The One yet.

“the apartment has come together nicely,” he says as he looks around and it is, you’ve done a great job at it and it reflects the type of person that he assumes you are.

you ask him if he wants something to drink? and he politely rejects your offer, he does not want this thing to escalate because knowing his track record, he can’t stand a minute more near the kitchen island and not think about bending you over, and that was normal for him but god, snap out of it, this is half your own age, he thinks to himself.

and you want him to stay, but again, it is quite fucked up to think about being fucked by your father’s friend and someone your father’s age.

“here,” he gives you all the stuff he brought with and kept it. “that’s all, i have some work i need to do so i’ll take your leave now,” he starts to leave when he looks back again “and, um, my number,”

to which you blush, but remind yourself, it’s only like an authority figure, nothing else. and he tells you his own address, in case there’s ever an emergency.

that is how it begins, and your father leaves a message for him, “please take care of them,” and he acts like it’s a burden but he’s overjoyed inside, he has an excuse…

anyway, fast forward to you starting university, getting a social circle, and he visits you weekly, awkward and short visits but you’re just glad he can grace your apartment like that, you even light up your special candles around for him to notice, and he does, but you don’t know how hard he’s just trying so hard to not snap.

when it’s been almost an year or something, he finally thinks he should sit down or you’ll catch on to him or something (little does he know that all you though of it was the fact that men like him are always busy.)

“so you’ve settled in okay?” he asks, as if the cctv installed outside your door doesn’t already tell him that you bring a steady flow of people home, friends.. un-friends and people he was genuinely jealous of. he was jealous of your friends too, because he desperately wanted to stay platonic with you and he didn’t know how they did that.

the conversation flows from one point to other and suddenly you ask him, “are you married?” and he looks startled at the question so quickly begin to apologise, you did not mean to overstep any boundaries.

“uh, i don’t know, i just haven’t found someone who i would like that much, i guess,” if the tension before was a lot, this was the worst it could get.

he leaves abruptly again, and you watch from your balcony as he pulls his car out of the parking and out, wishing he stayed sometime.

what you did not know though was the fact that the yandere was fully invested in your life, your friends, your daily errands. but this was what taking care of you meant, right?

the last straw came to him when you were at a party, frustrated by the lack of response that older man was giving you, you were desperate to get laid today even if you would end up being upset over the fact that it wasn’t him. but unknown to the fact that the yandere just had this.. odd feeling today? that he has to follow you and when he got to know it was a party? parties are never good news.

and he’s almost dozing off 2 hours later in his car, parked safely at a distance when he think he hears your voice. and sure enough when he takes a peek out, across the street is you, and wait, is that a guy following you.

“i was just kidding i really don’t want to go home with anybody tonight.”

he gets out of the car silently, and the guy who is insistent on getting his dick wet by specifically you, a statement which makes his blood boil, is too busy persuading you to notice the punch that the dilf throws at him from behind. the yandere doesn’t think about what you’ll ask about how he got there and stuff, this was serious and it only reaffirms his ideals that yes, he had to make sure you were safe and he had to follow you, god knows what would have happened if he wasn’t there.

as soon as the guy is knocked out, he looks at you and you look up at him surprised, your mouth forming an ‘o’ but noticing the haze in your eyes, he can feel relief inside.

“you’re here!” you exclaim and you are drunk, he concludes as you hug him. he might actually burst but he feels euphoric right now, as if he could cry, it was like he had this actual fear, what would he do if something happened to you? it was no longer the responsibility or the feeling of being answerable to your dad.

don’t worry after that, he drives you home, but his home. he has to make sure you’re safe at all times, right? what if someone decided to rob your place? or… the guy from earlier? what if he got your address from one of your friends? he couldn’t imagine it.

so there might be a change in plans, you don’t need to tell your dad yet though, or anybody. in fact, you might not need to go out at all. he made more than enough to sustain, and keep you safe, take care of you, like your dad asked, and he is nothing but a loyal friend, isn’t he?

now let's dive into little specifics, shall we?

yandere dilf is completely smitten, he was the first moment he saw you but right now you're at his mercy, and it gave me a hysterical kind of high.

and he is so so convinced that he's doing what he can to protect you and this is allthat can be done, there's no other way!

he brings you bits and pieces of news that are the most terrible of them all - murders, rapes, all of the worst stuff, so you realize how much of a favour the yandere is doing you by protecting you.

and your dad? as far as he's concerned, you're still going about your daily routine, there’s nothing wrong with it. he makes you call him because he doesn't want to deal with his friend, not yet.

yandere dilf is caring but he's also really short tempered, if he brings you food and you eat it silently without saying anything, he'll snap :(( because you should have said the food was good or you were happy that he brough you that, right?

but he realizes his fault quite soon, he was mature, he shouldn’t act this way with you. and he apologises, someone tell this man an apology means you would try not to do it again. because he does, he keeps on repeating the cycle.

at first you were completely opposed to whatever this weird idea was, but slowly you gave in, when you realized the heights he had thought all of this through to, all you could hope was someone to notice that this wasn't normal and help you. well, someone to notice and try to help you and not be bought off by the money that the yandere dilf gave them.

yandere dilf coddles you; at first this is how he got to break your shell, he patted your head when you did something good, something like eating, drinking water. and you loved it, as much as you hated to admit it, sometimes it felt like you put in so much efforts in your daily life to get people to love you, that it felt like a relief that here he was praising you for doing the smallest of tasks.

yandere dilf does not fuck you. he keeps himself in control, he does not even touch you if you're angry or upset at him, but he knows a few ways and he's bringing you around slowly to the idea of a you and him together creating an us.. he's getting there slowly and surely.

just… please.. don't try to escape or anything, that would really set the process back… or would it accelerate it…?

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yandere-yearnings · 5 days

Note

*zombie noise* uuurghhhh.. Titties.. Man titties.. My sickness can only be cured if I am able to suck on some man titties 🧟‍♀️

AUUUGgGgGg My aching hands can only be remedied with a dose of squeezing chesticles various times a day 💀💀

nonnie the way i got war flashbacks reading the word chesticles😭💔 i believe this was in reference to this ask so today it's sun's turn to be reduced to an absolute mess🥰 i'm sorry this took so long to get to btw and also that the writing is largely shit, dar has not been vv good at this lately😔

NSFW under the cut!

“You’re being forward,” Sun laughed, bright-eyed, “hard day?”

“Very.” You stressed, leaning into him, finding solace in the softness of his shirt. His calves brushed against your lower back, drawing you between his thighs.

Sun's hands flicked up, fingers pressing to your scalp and massaging gently. Tenderly, to the shell of your ear, he hummed, “anything I can do to make it better?”

Blinking at his innocent question, you couldn’t help but grin. Your arms stretched to either side of him, caging him all the more across the counter he was sitting on. “I can think of a few,” you whispered, revelling in the little exhale you received in response, “namely…”

“Y/N.”

“These.” You groped his chest with a happy tilt to your head. “They’re there for a reason, right?”

Sun groaned, curling into you to hide his obvious blush. “Not for you to… play with…”

“Why not?” you teased, feeling your neck heat from where he rested against it. “You didn’t have a problem with it last night. You begged me to touch them more actually, don't you remember? Crying so prettily, saying-”

“That’s enough!” He covered your mouth, pushing you slightly with a shaky grip on your shoulder. Red-faced and refusing to meet your gaze, Sun was the perfect picture of adorable. “If it’ll make you feel better, you know-” he paused, getting quieter, “you know I’m yours so… do whatever. Please, just stop embarrassing me.”

“Me? Embarrassing you?” You gasped, ever playful and swooping in to nip his cheek. “I would never.”

“Y/N,” Sun said again, this time whining, “you’re literally doing it right now!” He swatted at you lightly, but your energy was not lost on him, not in the giggle that preceded your pinning him down.

“Well, hello there,” you mumbled, attention completely focused on the expanse of skin exposed to you now that his top had ridden up.

Sun kicked you, half-hearted. “Don’t talk to it.”

“Sorry.” The both of you knew you weren’t sorry at all. Your thumb had already found its home, kissing into the flesh layered above his sternum, tracing the shadows cast.

Sun arched into it, and suddenly, every move you made became weighted.

Muscle beneath fat, driving your digits in until there was no more give, clawing, kneading, feeling his pulse soar — kisses trapped within his ribs that you knew his heart desperately wanted to send your way. How could you call yourself his lover if you didn’t reciprocate?

Saliva dripped, and your tongue followed, laving into cushioned tissue. You could get addicted to the taste of him, to the gasp and coil that brought you even closer. “Does it feel good, baby?” you mouthed around his nipple, relishing in his shiver.

“Good, so good,” Sun whined, breathless, writhing. “Don’t stop.”

“Who’s being forward now?” your teeth sank in, nothing akin to a light bite. “You can’t be giving me mixed signals like this Sun, you were so shy earlier…”

“Sorry,” he cried, “I’m sorry. I’ll be good for you. Please.”

Tears on his lashline when you pulled away. Your palms squeezed his pecs, let the pressure run down his entire body when they trailed to grasp his hips. Sun bit his lips to muffle his sounds, and you undid them with your own. “Tell me then,” you coaxed, “what do you want?”

“Bed.”

“Okay.” You caressed his face, and his turning to nuzzle into it was all you needed to forget about the stress you’d been feeling prior. "Bed," you repeated. "Bed sounds good.”

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lorelune · 18 days

Text

of carnage

|| blade x reader || E/18+ || shared toxicity, band au || wc: 8.8k || ao3 ||

You and Blade are mutually assured destruction. You know this, and yet it does not stop you from chasing after him.

minors, antis and ageless blogs dni

notes: well hello :3c this fic is part of a trade i did for some LOVELY selfship art with MOST BELOVED @rabbbitseason!! they asked for toxic bladie and reader and i come to DELIVER 🙏 setting and au are heavily inspired by my time in my local music scene and all of the 💀that came with it. i'm glad it can be all get repurposed into blade smut 🫶 THANK YOU!! to bitti for giving me so many fun wants to craft around!! THANK YOU!!! as well to @ofmermaidstories and @2kmps for beta reading!! now, please mind the tags on this one and enjoy <3

CW: dark content, band au, dubcon, pain during sex, bleeding during sex, toxic relationship between blade and reader, angst, hurt/a little comfort, manipulation, gaslighting by blade and the reader @ themselves, face slapping, spanking, spitting, reader smokes cigarettes, reader drinks, self destructive reader, past blade/dan heng, implied unrequited jing yuan/dan heng, kernels of jing yuan/reader

“Are you going to the gig tonight? Fu Xuan asks as if the answer isn’t obvious already.

You crane your neck back to look at her from your roost in front of your full-length mirror. Your knees dig into the carpet and the tips of your fingers are tinged with black. You’ve spent the better part of the last thirty minutes attempting to perfectly smudge the smoky line of eyeliner on your lower lash line. A tube of dark, red lipstick (his color) and sticky gloss rests on the fluffy carpet beside your folded knees.

“Of course.” You can’t make yourself smile, not when your stomach is in knots. “Are you?”

“I should if you are going,” she huffs, leaning against your doorframe. “You need a chaperone.”

(She’s probably right.)

“Please tell me you’re joking.” You grimace and turn away, unable to meet her gaze. She’s too good at reading you. “I’ll be just fine on my own, thank you very much.”

“... He’s playing, isn’t he?”

“I mean, yeah.” You rub more aggressively at the widening smears around your eyes. “But that’s not the only reason.”

“Sure.”

“It’s not, really.” You meet her gaze with a glance in the mirror. It’s hard to keep, her stare intense and full of judgment— (And worry.) “There’s a bunch of good bands tonight. There’s a touring group— all the way from Pier Point.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You have no faith in me, do you?” You pout, keeping your voice light, and hoping it comes off as a bit of a jest.

When you finally turn to face Fu Xuan fully, she dips to sit beside you, on her own folded knees. She plucks your soon-to-be-worn lipstick off the ground and uncaps it, just long enough to see the color, before sighing and closing it once more with a pop.

“Not really, no.” Fu Xuan leans against your side, cheeks puffing out. “Not when it comes to him—”

“You can say his name, you know.” You smear chalky highlighter on your cheeks with your fingertips. “It’s not a slur. He’s just some guy.”

“‘Some guy’,” She groans. “If he’s really just some guy, why don’t we skip the gig tonight and stay home? We can order in some nice food, and I could invite Qingque.”

“... I—”

“You know that going is a bad idea, right?” Fu Xuan sighs. “We’ve gone over this before.”

“I’m aware of that.” You can’t suppress your scowl any longer, turning to face her. “Blade is fine—”

“He treats you like shit.”

“He treats everyone like that.”

“That doesn’t make it better. If anything, that makes it worse. You deserve better.” Fu Xuan sounds genuinely upset. “And you can do better. Easily. With literally anyone else, even if you find them at one of your nasty house shows. Try entertaining the thought?”

“You don’t have to be so—” You turn to her, fist balling up on your knees— “So mean about it.”

“It’s messy.”

“And it’s not your business.”

“It’s not!” Fu Xuan says, exasperated as she rolls her eyes. “I really shouldn’t even be bothering, but you are my friend. And it is painful to watch you chase the tail of a man who will hardly give you the time of day or bare minimum respect. Excuse me for showing concern.”

“Your concern is noted.” As it has been before. “But I’m fine. I wasn’t lying earlier— there’s other groups I want to see tonight. You... don’t have to come along just to babysit. I’ll be alright. I know you hate them.”

“I do.”

Fu Xuan crosses her arms and exhales, something angry and burning. “At least let me drive you. I can pick you up later too. Rather I do than some stranger or him—”

“Blade. His name, Fu Xuan.”

“Blade.”

“God, you do say it like a slur.” You roll your eyes, the pit in your stomach having become larger and darker. You swipe below your eyes and thank an Aeon or two that your eyeliner is waterproof.

...

The house venue is a bit out of town, in the rural suburbs on a lot that’s big enough to host a crowd and not bother the nearest neighbors. Fields streak by during your journey, humming with junebugs and chirping with late- summer crickets. Low hills roll by as a harvest moon rises, waxing and half-full.

Fu Xuan drops you at the curb and idles as you collect yourself. A crossbody bag carries your essentials (your phone, your sticky lip products, a lighter to go with the pack of cigarettes that you actually don’t smoke, and two condoms shoved against the bottom). You fiddle with the strap against your shoulder.

“Call me when you need me to pick you up, okay?” Fu Xuan taps the steering wheel. “I’ll be awake.”

“Okay, mom.”

“I mean it—”

“I know.”

“Don’t go home with Blade. Or let him drive you home. He handles a car like he’s trying to kill himself.”

It’s a fair assessment but you still shake your head, trying to seem good-natured despite the rot you feel curling in the back of your throat. Bile, rising, before you have a drop of liquor in you. It’s a little pathetic; you’ll really think so in retrospect. For now, you walk toward the venue itching for a drink in your hand or familiar company. Thundering bass and ripping guitar vibrate from the basement windows, shaking the ground beneath your feet.

A crowd clusters at the back of the house. Folks swap cigarettes and clutch cans of cheap beer and flasks decorated with stickers. You quickly survey, looking for, searching for him—

(He’s usually out here before his set, hiding away somewhere with Kafka sharing cigarettes and glaring at anyone dumb enough to make a pass at her.)

A hand grabs you by the shoulder, and you nearly jump out of your skin. “Oh my gosh, you’re here! I didn’t know you’d be coming to the gig!”

It’s March, you know. She is easy to identify with the sweet, candy-like perfume she wears and the slight press of her almond-shaped gel manicure into your shoulder. March turns you abruptly, throwing her arms around your shoulders and squeezing. Too tightly, knocking the air out of you in an instant. You give her a tentative hug back and pull away quickly. The contact scalds you.

“Have you seen—?”

“Blade?” March pouts and tilts her head. “You know, I feel like you only come to these things to see that guy. He’s nothing special. And I have seen him. He was off sulking a while ago, by the sheds in the back of the lot.”

“... I’ll have to check. Thanks, March.”

She sighs as you walk away from her, before calling out to Stelle (who is always a step or two behind her anyways.)

You feel— bad about how you treat them. They’re both good people. So is the third in their trio, Dan Heng, a man with a beautiful face and an eerily calm demeanor, especially when compared to his companions. The group of them was introduced to you back when you first started attending these shows, hanging around the scene, and sweating in the basement of mildew-filled houses. They were some of your first friends, and easy to mesh with when you gave yourself the time and space to. Stelle always had a flask with lukewarm vodka or tequila, and March kept a case of seltzers in her trunk. Dan Heng was the ever-reliable sober cab.

(It was nice back then. Before you had become so entangled with Blade and the subsequent social politics that came with chasing and occasionally fucking the hot, albeit emotionally-unavailable bassist of HUNTERS. It was far easier to hold those friendships than to orbit around a man who you can never tell if he hates you or wants to fuck you in his back seat.)

You find Blade tucked away around the side of the house, cloaked in shadow while taking long drags of a cigarette. The cherry glows in the dim light. From the basement window peeking out from the ground, a red glow pours out, illuminating the well-worn combat boots he wears. They’re crusted in filth, falling apart at the toe.

(You’d still lick them if he asked you to. Hump them if he asked you twice.)

Another figure stands across from him. Serene, arms crossed, with storm eyes visible even in the poor lighting. Dan Heng keeps a perfectly neutral expression as he speaks, hushed, to Blade who wears a scowl so perfectly that it looks like he’s carved of immovable stone rather than not flesh.

You’re not quite within earshot. You can’t make out their words, only their tone. It’s an angry exchange, one that’s charged with heat lighting and ire. Blade spits something at Dan Heng, venomous in his tone like he so easily is. Dan Heng replies back something so cooly that it’s like a low-tide wave lapping at your feet.

If you were better, you would turn around and leave. Neither of them know that you’re here, so close. It’s invasive to listen, but you know that there’s... history between Blade and Dan Heng. You’ve always wondered what it is, and considering that Blade has the emotional availability of a rotting vegetable, you won’t be getting those details out of him.

Maybe witnessing their dynamic (yet again) could provide you some clarity—?

(And maybe, if you know why Blade was so, so hurt by Dan Heng, you can do better. You can be the exact thing that Blade wants, and then he will want you, just as much as you want him.)

You listen more keenly:

“I’ve asked you to stop booking shows where the Express is already playing.”

“And I’ve asked you to get off my dick and stop being such a priss, but it doesn’t look like you’ll ever do that.”

“I’m asking you to be reasonable.”

“Sure, because clearly asking me to not play prime gigs is ‘reasonable’. Not to mention you should be taking this up with Kafka or Elio, not me. Did you just want an excuse to talk, Imbibitor Lunae—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What, have something else you’d prefer to be called? I remember plenty of things you liked hearing. Want me to name a few?”

“Hold your tongue—”

A stick cracks behind you and you nearly jump out of your skin.

“Bladie~” Kafka purrs behind you, hands sliding up over your shoulders, hot breath over the back of your neck. “We’re on soon. Soundcheck in five, Firefly has a vodka shot for you if you want.”

You’re frozen.

Blade grunts from around the house, and as he does, Dan Heng emerges from the shadows quickly, on hastened feet, and nearly stumbles when you see him. Your expression must be— fucking stupid. Wide-eyed and slack-jawed as Kafka runs her nails up and down your neck.

As Dan Heng practically sprints off, Kafka croons quietly into your ear, “And what are you doing all the way back here? Looking for Bladie again?”

You don’t need to speak for her to know your answer. Blade’s steps thud against the ground over the short, dry grass.

Part of you knows you should scramble away and pretend you weren’t just lurking like a stray dog begging for kitchen scraps. It’s humiliating to be caught by Kafka (yet again), doing the same shit on a different day. Another part of you, one which is much louder, more persuasive, and saccharine sweet, urges you to face Blade. If you get caught in his maw, good.

Your hands shake as Blade emerges from the dark.

He looks like death. Ghostly pale skin with deep purple eyebags, like bruises. His eyes are cut carnelian, ethereal and volcanic against his parlor. A cigarette hangs between his plump lips, threatening to burn and melt the pieces of his fringe that hang around his cheeks. Long, wild black hair, tipped in faded crimson, falls down his back in frizzy waves. His arms bulge obscenely in the tight, black shirt he wears. A carved jade pendant hangs off of his belt.

Blade stares you down and his scowl deepens, turning even more sour. He mutters something under his breath, something unintelligible but cruel. It’s not the first time he’s spoken to you that way. He’s done so more loudly and more brutally.

You—

(Hate it. You love it. Well, maybe not love, but you crave the way that Blade is awful to you. You’re horrible.)

“Better get inside now,” Kafka hands drift to your waist, tugging on the belt loop of your pants. You let out a little yip. “I’m sure the front row is filling up fast. No need to spy on Bladie if you get a prime spot during the actual set, hm?”

She’s right; she usually is.

Kafka leaves you with an elegant twirl, humming one of HUNTERS songs from their new EP under her breath. You know the tune. You’ve been playing it on repeat for the last two months.

It’s easy to follow the jarring trills of soundcheck as you float inside the home, following the trail of people headed toward the basement. Descending down the rickety, railingless stairs into thick, humid air that reeks of sweat, beer, and fledging mold. Down, down, down you go— maybe to hell, where you perhaps belong.

...

Moon Drinker by HUNTERS

You taught me that the high moon

Was our lovers’ sigil

How quickly did you throw away our runes

How empty is your cup

Moon Drinker

That you would break mine too

...

The gig is decent. That’s how these shows tend to be and you enjoy them just enough to tolerate the stench and humidity of grungy basements like this one.

Three bands play, IP3, the Express, and HUNTERS. The interest you expressed to Fu Xuan about Pier Point’s IP3 was a lie, but they’re not bad. The frontman, a blond with eyes like inverted crystals, has a sultry edge to his voice that verges on sexual. It’s a cleaner sound that rips into something dirtier, filthier, as their set goes on.

The Express follows IP3. You’ve seen them more times than you can count, but the trio is still nice to listen to, even now. March always plays with the crowd in between her harmonies in a way that riles folks up just enough without causing abject chaos. The band plays a new song you don’t know, one that is angry and loud and so unlike their normal sound. Dan Heng is on vocals, rather than solely on guitar, and you’re reminded of how mournful and melodic his voice can be. The exact words of the piece get eaten by the cement foundation of the basement, but you imagine that it’s an elegy.

HUNTERS is last on.

They usually are, as their music is the loudest and gnarliest, and they’re typically the most well-known (even if they have a shit reputation and their crowds leave trashed venues in their wake). You feel— insane when they start playing. You know all of their songs, even if you don’t really like their music. Kafka’s voice is hypnotic in a way that’s disarming, even on a recording. Silver Wolf is too good of a drummer for the caliber of band that they are, and Firefly shreds easily on guitar, trained on strings since childhood, but using her talents in a grunge band rather than on a world stage.

Blade’s bass playing is messy. Though his tempo is sure and unwavering, the actual rhythm drags and punches in intervals that verge on unnerving. You have never been able to place if this is due to whatever rage and poison he carries into music making, or if his fingers are as arthritic as Kafka jokes that they are.

It doesn’t really matter, in the end. The sound blends together in a cacophony that sounds like the way bursted flesh looks. If you could taste the way their newest EP sounded, it would be the iron tang of blood and the acrid burn of bile.

You’re fucked for it— for Blade. You’ve been since you first became tangled in this web.

A pit opens in the middle of the crowd, small at first, but rapidly widening, with more and more people throwing themselves into it. They bounce around and bash against the individuals at the sides of the pit, only to be shoved back in a moment later.

You try to stay away from it. Instead, you watch Blade like a fucking pervert.

The basement has gotten hot. Steamy, if you look hard enough at the air that barely circulates against the low, pipe-ridden ceiling. Blade has thrown his hair up in a high ponytail, wisps of hair still cling to his neck and temples, sweat visibly rolling down his neck. His shirt sticks to his toned chest as the overclocked speakers try to keep up with the HUNTERS most recently released song— ‘MOON DRINKER’.

Blade doesn’t look at you. Not once.

His eyes are fixed elsewhere, deeper in the crowd, beyond the bodies in the pit and those who hang at the outskirts by the house’s ancient boiler. Blade’s attention is fixed on— something (someone. You can assume who.) Not once does his gaze drift down his instrument, and never does he acknowledge the way you stand in the front row, so close, with your attention squarely on him.

(This is normal. So normal, it’s painful.)

The pit expands even further, widening as more gig-goers jump into mosh as one song bleeds into the next. You almost get swirled in yourself as a stranger slams into your side with enough force to nearly knock you to the ground.

A broad, warm hand catches you by your bicep, hoisting you up before you even have a chance to fall.

“Be careful now,” It’s Jing Yuan (who is much too powerful and rich to be at a basement show, but yearning pushes you both to do stupid, nonsensical things) who speaks directly into your ear, so you can hear him even as your ears ring muffled. “Are you alright?”

You turn to nod at him, flashing him a thumbs up and nervous smile. The cologne he wears permeates the space around you, overpowering the sweat and mildew with ease. He gives you an easy smile and a squeeze, before letting you. He sidesteps your frame to be closer to the pit, crossing his arms over his chest and shielding you from the worst of the throng.

You’re grateful for the cover; it would be embarrassing to topple over right in front of Blade.

It takes you a moment to recenter yourself, lost in Jing Yuan’s scent and the roar of Firefly’s final, aching guitar riffs. You look back to HUNTERS once more as they finish out their set in a loud, carnal flourish. The expensive speakers they’ve dragged with them are going to fucking blow out—

Blade is staring at you.

Not into the crowd, toward the placid face and cold heart that so clearly plague him, not to his bandmates or instrument, but looking at you.

In the red-lit basement, his eyes nearly glow, unnatural in their anger as they always are. It seemed more concentrated, feral and crystallized in its intensity. Rage. You want to cower under it while your insides feel hot and frigid all at once. He pierces so easily, so thoughtlessly. As the crowd erupts into cheers and shouts as the set ends, you cannot move. Staked in place.

Not once does Blade look away from you, and his mouth does not deviate from the twisted frown he wears.

...

Swordmaker by HUNTERS

If I were forged alongside you,

Do you think I would forgive you then?

If iron was your skin,

Steel your lungs

and lead your heart,

You would be easier to hold.

Empty are memories

Full is the garden

And bloody is the blade.

…

You should be better than this.

Blade slams you up against the back of the shed, the motion jarring and far too fast to be pleasant. Your head knocks painfully against the wood and peeling paint, and despite how you whimper with the impact, Blade doesn’t react. He doesn’t seem to care.

(You know he doesn’t.)

He hikes your leg up over his hip and grinds against your core through your pants. The motion is rough, clumsy and far too harsh to be pleasurable. The dry friction through your panties makes you squirm and dig your nails into his shoulders. Blade grunts in your ear. You think he likes the pain.

The gig was only let out half an hour ago, and plenty of people are still milling around. Whispers are circulating about if and where there will be an afterparty. You weren’t paying much attention to them— they’re easy to ignore— especially when Blade had been dragging you by the wrist just far enough away from the main house to fuck without being overtly noticeable.

(Barely, though. Blade can be loud and you can be loud when you’re with him. You’re tempting fate to be caught, seen with him in this way. It’s an open secret that you’re the scraps that Blade entertains himself with, but you would rather not be caught with your literal pants down.)

Blade smells like cigarettes and sweat. The scent of unclean smoke tangles in his unruly hair as you get a grip on it and tug. The juncture of his neck has the faintest hint of some cologne you’re sure he doesn’t know the name of and stale sweat. You press your lips there and dare to drag your tongue across his skin and taste him. It’s not a good taste, not necessarily, but you love it. Salty and filthy. (It’s disgusting, but familiar and morosely comforting.) You are drunk on it and it makes you feel pathetic at the same time.

A growl sounds in your ear as Blade pins you with his weight to the shed. Dragging you back from his neck, he grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at him fully.

“Don’t leave marks.” He paralyzes you with his stare and sneer.

“I’d never.” You try to sound earnest, even if it’s a lie. Because you would— you’d bite and tear at his neck (like he does at yours) until the skin there is black and blue. Happily, you would leave hickies above his collar. Split his lip and bite his jaw hard enough to bleed. You could wear his blood on your teeth and smile for once at these fucking gigs.

Instead, you do not bite him. You just let Blade maul you as he desires.

He grinds against your core. The pressure is unpleasant at this point, too much and too little all at the same time. When you whimper now, he just ignores you and slips his hands under your shirt. He grabs your waist in both hands and squeezes.

“Turn around,” says Blade, already twisting you himself, so your front is pressed against the shed.

“H-Here?” You laugh nervously. Despite your... reputation, something cold, unwelcome and uncomfortable settles in you. “C-Can’t we go to your car? Or inside?”

“Maybe later.”

(It’s awful. It’s sick, the way your heart flutters at the implications of ‘later’. ‘Later’ means more of him. More of Blade’s time, his touch, his hardly-there care. More scraps for you to gorge yourself on, more time to beg for more. It’s sick. It’s sick how fucked you are for him.)

Blade reaches around your front to undo the button at the top of your trousers. In a swift motion, he has them around your thighs. Just enough that he can bend you over and access your cunt with some amount of ease. He keeps your panties on at first (he usually does this. You’re never sure why. You can delude yourself into thinking it’s him taking his time with you, but you know that that is a lie).

Blade places one of his hands on the back of your neck to flatten you against the shed, while the other must be unbuttoning his own pants to get his cock out, based on the jingling of metal and shred of a zipper. You swallow, your mouth dry. You’re dry, but you know that if you try to touch yourself to prep at this point, Blade will only be meaner.

The most he does is run two fingers over your slit, over your panties. It’s barely enough contact on your clit to be felt, but you gasp and shudder anyway. Canting your hips back, you try to encourage more contact. Anything he’ll give you.

He sighs behind you. Disappointed. Aggravated. It makes you want to cry.

Blade peels down your panties. The cold air shocks you, your core tightening up, but you hardly have time to adjust to the temperature before Blade’s equally cold hands fully part your folds. He sighs again, pulling away only to spit on his fingers, and smear his saliva around your hole. It feels dirty. You feel dirty.

When Blade pulls away, you whine at the loss of contact (at how cold it is, at how the crowd milling around smoking cigarettes and cheap weed is just on the other side of this dilapidated shed crows and laughs into the night). You swear you can recognize March’s giggle above the din of conversation.

You’re brought back to your entanglement with a harsh slap to your ass. Harsh and audible. The sound that escapes your lips is choked and high.

“Don’t get distracted,” Blade huffs. He spits again, presumably on his dick.

You nod, latching onto the pain radiating from slap to your ass. As if sensing it, Blade lays down another strike. This one is hotter, harder. He isn’t holding back. It is sure to bruise the tender flesh there. A mark. Something that will tangibly ache, something leftover from your tryst.

You could cry.

The velvety head of Blade’s cock nudges your folds. He brackets you into the wall, arms on either side of you. Heat radiates off his chest and sinks into your spine.

“‘Feels good?” He asks, voice hoarse as he coats himself in your meager slick.

“Y-yeah,” you lie. It’s not enough to feel good. You don’t care.

Blade seems content enough with your answer as he bears down on you. Flattening you to the dirt-covered shed, he hitches his hip down, then up, trying to fit the tip of his cock into your hole. He maneuvers your hips as he pleases, grunting when the tip of him catches on your cunt. When you dare to whine, even the smallest sound, he cracks his hand down on your ass again. Your vision speckles into darkness with the shot of pain and—

(The roar of anxiety and subsequent shame when you realize how much quieter the milling crowd nearby has become.)

“Hold still.” Blade's voice has sunk low, gravely with the cigarettes he’s been smoking all evening.

The next time his cock touches your opening, he presses in without hesitation.

It’s—

It’s too fucking much.

It is, it always is, every single fucking time he fucks you. Any prep he gives you is perfunctory. Blade will never lavish you with attention, not in the way that you probably need. That you—

(Might even deserve.)

No, the most that Blade will do is fuck you filthy behind a shed, near some of his more well-adjusted peers and probably come inside of you. On past occasions, he has let you suck him off in the backseat of his car. He’s only accidentally (‘accidentally’) came on your face a few times. Less than ten, more than five. Once, he ate you out for a few minutes, but you swear to god he was groaning someone else’s name as he did.

(You’re fucking pathetic.)

This is always too much. Blade is too big. Too big, even if you were stretched and primed with a few fingers like would be right and proper. As tight and dry as you are, it’s painful. He has to grind into your cunt with rolling little thrust so he can fit himself in at all. Each one shocks a breath out of you, a shattering, fragile sound.

When Blade bottoms out, he lays flat over your back. The weight of him is suffocating. His corded muscle is all dead weight above you as his cock twitches inside you. You can’t tell if he’s idling to allow you some time to adjust, or purely for his own leisure. You can’t be sure. You don’t want to ask him either.

“You’re tight.” Blade’s voice threatens to break.

(Of course you are. He’s the only person you will let fuck you, and these trysts only occur every few weeks, when there’s a show that you can be cornered at.)

He bucks into you, deeper still. The head of his cock is touching parts of you that shouldn’t be touched.

You whimper, “Blade—”

He growls in response. It’s a raspy and low tone that makes arousal burn in your gut and leak down your thighs. (You hope so anyway— it’s more wet and you don’t think it hurts enough that you’re bleeding.) Blade fucks you in earnest, then. There’s no delay, no waiting, no potential for momentary, perceived niceties. He pulls out of you almost completely, then thrusts back into you in one single motion. The friction burns and your vision wavers.

(You still moan like a whore.)

You feel— dirty. Disgusting. Pathetic as he fucks you like. You don’t feel like a person as he fucks you; you never do. How could you? The grip he uses on your hips is too bruising and the force and strength he’s using to brutalize your cunt is just too much. He fucks you like he’s taking anger out on a piece of drywall. Blade shares physically with you in the way a dog shreds a chew toy to bits, then leaves it on the ground to fester.

Blade grunts next to your ear, nipping there.

He doesn’t kiss you— well, not often. He can’t with your current position. You wouldn’t expect him to anyway. Sometimes he leaves a ring of dark hickies across your neck, like a collar. You like those, but he always waits an extra long time to see you after he marks you like that.

(You presume to make sure that the bruises have fully yellowed, then faded. A clean canvas.)

Blade’s pace increases, just before he pulls out. His cock rests on the cleft of your ass and he tips his forehead to rest on the shed, just beside yours.

“You’re still dry.”

“Sorry—”

He cuts you off. “It’s fine.”

...

It apparently isn’t fine.

Blade drags you toward the house. He barks at someone, then Kafka, to find a room. You feel dazed as he does. Out of your body, as you receive a number of knowing and unknowing stares from the lingering show-goers who cluster around a firepit.

(How many of them heard you just now? How many know the exact sounds you make when in barely-there pleasure? In certainly-there pain? How many of them know the sound of Blade’s too-big cock slapping into your too-dry cunt?)

It makes you feel sick to think about.

A room must be found for the two of you, as Blade drags you up the stairs of the back porch.

As he does, he hesitates.

(He has so rarely done this.)

His gaze is not on you; it pierces elsewhere in the dark. A floodlight off the back of the house illuminates a section of the yard, and just beyond its reach, nestled somewhere between the dark and light, he fixates. His jaw sets and locks.

There are figures, you realize.

They’re easy to identify once you actually focus. One is lithe and short-haired, the other broad-shouldered and long-haired. Dan Heng and Jing Yuan. Speaking on the outskirts. It feels private. Their attention turns from their hushed conversation to the two of you as Blade stares daggers and swords into them. As if he could pierce them with nothing more than his silent rage and angry eyes.

You freeze.

Their expressions are obscured in the lowlight, but you can almost feel the looks they give you. Like a sickly mucus that gets stuck to you and rolls down your flesh in slow, cold globs.

Dan Heng (once so dear to you, still probably dear to you—) looks guarded, thought darkened. Contempt twists his expression, anger following just after. You’d ever wager that he’s disgusted, maybe. Probably with you, because he knows you’re better than this. Beside him, Jing Yuan wears an expression of careful passivity, of geniality, as he always does, but it’s tinged with something sad and old. For all parties involved in this silent, momentary exchange.

Jing Yuan regards you directly, slowly blinking at you, as though he was a large house cat intent on making you feel safe, and not a presence that only drives the bubbling anxiety in you higher.

It’s a seconds-long encounter that stretches for an eternity. You cannot make yourself move. You cannot feel anything other than rotten and small.

Blade lets out a harsh exhale and yanks you away. The scene breaks and you’re dragged inside. He whispers under his breath, vitriol-tinging his tone. Your panties feel sticky and wet as you walk.

Kafka had found a room for you, on the second floor of the house. God knows whose it actually is. You don’t get a good look at the room as Blade pushes you inside.. It’s dim, the only light is licking in from the dirty window, an afterburn from the raging bonfire outside. You hear muffled voices still, leaking in like a draft.

Blade locks the door and pushes you onto the unmade bed.

It’s a cheap mattress with flannel sheets. It smells like old weed smoke and cheap incense. Fu Xuan would tell you that you deserve better than this. You think you might.

Blade climbs on top of you, jaw still locked, and eyes far away.

(You do wonder what happened between him and Dan Heng. Something did. Something gutting and heartbreaking— you hear it when Blade sings. A betrayal, an intangible knife cut but still so painful. Dan Heng has always spoken about Blade with a type of protective neutrality. He warned you to never get involved with Blade. To stay away, to not get on Blade’s bad side, and if something did entangle you with him, Dan Heng could sort it out. He has always cared so fiercely for those he loves; it’s a shame that you have squandered it.)

(Blade is a sentimentalist. Blade is so held in the past that it chokes him. It always has, during every moment you’ve shared with him. He lingers in the bloody past, he holds it in his hands with a grip that’s meant to snap bird wings and flay flesh. He hates Dan Heng. He still loves him, though. You see it on his face sometimes. You hear it in Blade’s music. The ache, the death, the unending grief and mourning and rage that the man simply won’t let go of.)

(It is obsession.)

It shouldn’t make you bitter to think about. Yet, it does. It’s not your place to hold those types of feelings, let alone express them. For so many reasons, Blade will never see you as anything more than a cheap fuck. You think Dan Heng is the primary one. Over time, you’ve grown bitter. Resentful.

Blade pulls off your shirt in one swift move. He’s slower than he usually is. More deliberate. His hands are shaking, like how they do just after he finishes a set. It’s… off—

You hate it. You hate that the lingering pain of someone else will effect Blade more than you ever, ever could in the present.

You grab a fistful of his hair and tug. His breath catches as you do.

”What the fuck is your deal?” You sneer at him. There’s a cruel edge in your voice that does not sound like you. Blade brings out the worst in you, and you fall prey to it, so easily.

Blade glances up at you, eyes sharp like cut gems. He says nothing.

”You and Dan Heng,” you laugh. You don’t mean to— you don’t, you don’t— and you yank Blade’s hair so he has to look at you better. “It’s pathetic, you know. How you look at him like a kicked fucking dog. What happened between the two of you, anyways?”

Blade freezes. So do you.

You’ve misstepped so brutally. So stupidly and tragically and idiotically. You’ve pushed too hard for what—?

Blade is on his haunches in an instance and he slaps you across the face.

Your head follows the force of the impact, forcing your face to the side. Your cheek smarts. It wasn’t— that hard. Blade is strong. He could do worse. Still, it shocks you. The pain is enough to make you gasp and reel.

”What the fuck—“

”Don’t,” Blade grabs your jaw, “open your mouth about things you know nothing about. You should know better.”

You should. You do.

”I could know more, if you ever told me, I don’t know— anything?” You laugh in his face, manic behind your eyes. You’re crushing the delicate nature of your cheap arrangement like how a child would crush a flighty butterfly’s papery wings.

Blade shakes his head, smothering a laugh. He wrangles you forward, half-off risen from the bed, and parts your lips with his thumb. Before you can react, bite, claw— he is raising himself higher than you, dwarfing you in height, and spitting down into your mouth, onto your tongue.

”You don’t know when to shut up, do you?” He pats the side of your face, over the cheek that he struck. It burns. In another world, this touch would be tender. Here, you can only wince.

Before you can reply, continue to run your mouth and rile him up further, Blade kisses you.

It shocks you, stuns you.

He— he hasn’t ever kissed you before. It’s never been an explicit boundary, but never once during these trysts has Blade ever initiated this type of contact. It has felt dangerous to do so yourself. Something that’s too intimate, too personal to share. The core of your entanglement is the way he uses you. It’s impersonal.

A kiss, you think, implies something more tender.

You gasp into his lips, and he takes the opportunity to all but violate the inside of your mouth. His tongue plunders inside, licking at his own spit that you have yet to swallow. A noise chokes off in the back of your throat. Something desperate and shocked that you hardly recognize. It’s filthy. He nips at your lips and pushes you back down.

Blade devours you.

It’s too much, really. It’s a gesture of tenderness that has been so thoroughly mutilated, calling it a kiss feels paltry. The way his lips are on your own is much more like an argument and a subsequent conquest. One in which you lose ground. He nips at your lower lip, snags it between his teeth, and tugs it as he pulls away.

You pant, the sound of your own breath roars in your own ears. Your hands are still buried in his hair, grip unyielding, anchoring you.

Blade smiles, something poisonous and satisfied. You are too drunk on the singular kiss he gives you to care that much.

“That’s all it takes, is it?” He laughs, the sound dark and rolling, like the sound of an earthquake cracking the earth.

He already knows you’ll beg for scraps. God forbid he gives you even a morsel more.

The bed squeaks as he flips you by your hips so you’re laid flat, belly-down on the dirty sheets. Blade spanks your still-clothed ass for good measure before rustling around behind you. Assumedly to disrobe, just enough to fuck you. Assumedly, to ignore the condoms you brought (knowing he would disregard them—). Assumedly, to fuck you with every inch of your life.

You want it. You want him so badly it physically hurts.

(Or, maybe you tore while he had you behind the shed. Who is to say?)

Blade clamors behind you, shaking, arthritic hands tugging your pants by the waistband. He doesn’t even bother to unzip them this time. Your panties get pulled down along with them, and they get tossed elsewhere in the barely-lit room. Blade spits behind you, and a sound of too-dry stroking follows.

“D-do you want me to suck you off?” you ask with a hum. You’d let him fuck your face, if he asked. Or, if he wanted. Blade wouldn’t ask.

“No.”

“Just let me know.”

Blade sighs behind you, but you think little of it.

You brace yourself up on your elbows, lowering your upper half to be flat against the bed, and arching your hips as high as they’ll go. It’s as if to make yourself look appetizing. You hope it entices Blade, even a little.

(Please, you need him to want you. You need him to want you so badly. Please, please, please—)

The head of Blade’s cock rubs as your hole, down to your clit, then back up again a few times. He’s so hot, it’s like he is burning you. Contact that scalds. The contact against your clit is... nice. It’s the most warm up he has graced you with in a while. You could crave more, but settle for this.

“C’mon Blade,” you whine. Your voice sounds airy. “Fuck me.”

He doesn’t reply, not with his voice. The rocking of his hips becomes more pronounced, and the slide of him against you becomes slicker. Still too big, too hot, but wet at least. Which is a bonus. Pre and blood are probably leaking onto the shaft at least a little bit too.

It makes it easier once he slides home in a single blow.

It’s too fucking deep— especially with this angle. The head of his cock presses against your deepest parts, bruises them in a place where no one can see or feel but you. Blade is huge, the girth of him stretches you as his hips rest against your ass.

A wretched noise bubbles up past your lips. Something between a cry and a plea, for more, for less— to go home, to be in a warm, clean bed with someone who actually cares— you aren’t sure. Your desires have been twisted up and wrong for so long, you can’t tell what you really want.

It makes you feel rotten, and then there’s only one thing you want.

(To hurt.)

Blade fucks you, then. Fully in, fully out of. Long and deep thrusts that carve out your insides in a brutal way. It’s violent. He leans over your back, and braces himself over you. You feel small, stupid, and hurt. A horrible swirl of things that make tears spring up at the corners of your eyes. You bury your face in the crusty pillow you’d manage to snag nearby—

And Blade tugs it away immediately. His big, calloused hand curls to hold your jaw up, so every pitiful whine and whimper you let out can’t be muffled. The bed squeaks as his thrusts slow.

“Don’t hide.”

“I-I won’t.”

“You were.”

“I won’t a-again—”

“You want this, don’t you?” Blade growls in your ears, then moves to the most fragile skin of your neck and bites.

(You do, you do— god you do. You need this.)

You nod, and Blade keeps biting. His jaw nearly locks. You’re sure that you’ll be bruised for a week.

Blade scoffs and rears back, grabs your hips in both hands for leverage. And he fucks you.

That’s all it can be, really. You can’t get a solid hold on anything. The pillow has been thrown off the bed, and you struggle to find purchase on the sheets. All you do is take it. Pleasure, or something like it, builds in your core and goes nowhere. It simmers but never crests anywhere near orgasm.

You don’t mind. This is enough.

Blade’s pace increases, never frantic. Never with him. Manic maybe, insane, tortured and damaged, but never frantic. Not with you. His rhythm falters as his cock slides in and out of you, slick beginning to stick to the inside of your thighs.

His hand comes down on his ass. The other cheek, this time. It’s enough force to bruise again. You’ll have trouble sitting for a week.

As Blade nears his peak, his rhythm stutters. His breath grows harsher and more strained. His grip goes from bruising to breaking. You gasp with the pain, but don’t tell him to stop. His cock brushes against your cervix, and never your sweet spot.

Blade flattens you to bed, prone, and puts his entire weight on top of you as his orgasm hits him. A strangled cry shatters from his lips into your ear as he fucks you too fast and too hard. A gush of warmth fills your insides, spilling to your outsides when there isn’t enough of you to hold all of him.

The bed frame slams into the wall with his final few thrusts.

You lay there, in the filth, in the pain and the dissatisfaction of the tryst, and rot.

...

Blade leaves you there, at some point.

Not right away, but eventually. He rolls off you at some point, catches his breath for a while, checks his phone, then rises to right himself.

You cannot make yourself move. The only thing you can make yourself do is take slow, measured breaths. Each ache in your body is punctuated, loud and unignorable now that the fizzling pleasure of sex has dissipated. What’s left of it is this: carnage.

“You have a ride home?” Blade asks. He must be near the door, based on the sound of his voice.

Fu Xuan’s warning words come to mind, and shame fills your belly.

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

And he leaves.

You rot for a while longer.

This is not the first encounter that has gone this way. Blade fucks you like this and leaves. There’s no reverie or sweetness. There is using and being used, and the conclusion that always follows is this. Cooling, soon-to-be dry cum leaking out of you in thick droplets and a bite mark on your neck you’ll need to conceal for the next two weeks. Blade will ignore you like he doesn’t know you, next time he sees. But still fucks you like a toy.

It’s awful. It’s all you want.

You force yourself up at some point.

You’re surprised to find that your pants and panties are in a heap on the end of the bed. You are sure that they were tossed farther, but perhaps you misremember. Painstakingly, you rerobe yourself. Moving your legs in such ways hurts so bad, you could cry. You probably did cry while Blade fucked you.

The quick stop in the squalid bathroom confirms this. Mascara smudges around your eyes and down your cheeks. The sticky gloss you were wearing has been smeared away. Not even a stain of the crimson remains.

You feel hollow as you walk down the stairs, outside, toward the bonfire and its rapidly dwindling flames. A few folks still millaround, people you recognize, just barely, though no one you could call a friend remains around the pit. Stelle, March, and Dan Heng are long gone, probably. You’d feel too ashamed to look them in the eye anyway.

Someone offers you a warm beer and you take it. Your hands shake.

Hollow and wordless, you move around the backyard like a specter. Part of you wishes you were one, just something mostly formless and shapeless. Transparent. No one could see you make a fool of yourself that way. There would be no witnesses to your desperation and perversion.

You swallow back bile when it rises in your throat, and wash it down with a chug from the can.

You’re surprised to find Jing Yuan idling around the corner of the house. He looks up when you near him, and he greets you with the same genial smile he always wears. He nods to the space next him, already plucking a pack of cigarettes from the breast pocket on his shirt. You take one, and he lights it for you in the next instant.

“It looks like you needed that,” he hums. He doesn't take one for himself, only tucking the carton away and out of sight.

“Maybe.” You want to vomit. Or slide down the wall of the house and rot there.

He laughs then. It’s too... warm of a sound for how you feel. For how dirty these venues are, and for the company that you have come to hold, it feels dissonant. Jing Yuan is too kind, too patient.

(He cannot be your friend because your ruin would spread to him, maybe.)

“Take as many as you like,” he urges with a hum, and settles next to you.

Silently, you ruminate. Descend into yourself. You suppose, given the events you’ve seen tonight, that you’re both stewing in something akin to yearning.

(Jing Yuan is better than you for it. He, at least, doesn’t sleep with his unrequited adored in someone else’s bed after a messy house show.)

“Do you have a way home?” asks Jing Yuan, breaking you from your slow-rolling spiral.

You shake your head. It would be rude to call Fu Xuan so late. You— you hadn’t really thought about a ride. Not yet.

Jing Yuan looks you up and down and his smile looks sadder, “How about a ride home?”

“Sure.” You nod.

The ride back home in Jing Yuan’s (too nice, too expensive, too decadent) car is quiet. An album from a band you don’t recognize plays at a low volume. Soothing, soft voices, so juxtaposed from the venue you leave behind. Maybe you just can’t recognize the words because you’re decaying. Your phone lays in your lap, over your aching thighs.

[no new messages]

(Because Blade never messages you after a fuck. You’re not worth that much to him.)

...

Gingerly, you unlock your front door and enter your little apartment. Fu Xuan lays on the couch, on her back, with her phone against her collarbone. Her mouth is parted in peaceful sleep, though her hair is still done up, all of her pins are still in.

(She waited for you, again. And you failed her, again.)

You don’t know how she puts up with you. Or why either.

Some part of you wants to vomit. Wretch, like it’ll purge the awful, disgusting thoughts warming you. They do not serve you. You should just—

(Know better. You gain nothing from entangling yourself from Blade. The sex is... enough. Because Blade doesn’t know his own strength sometimes and makes it hurt, unintentionally toeing the line between too little and too much. It’s still not worth it. It shouldn’t be worth it. You’d be better off never going to any gigs, ever again. You wouldn’t have to disappoint and embarrass yourself to your old friends then. You wouldn’t have to linger in the yearning of others while never having that affection given to you.)

You collapse atop your bed. Your makeup has been roughly scrubbed off with an old towel, and you can feel the crunchy remnants of mascara clinging around your eyes. You can’t make yourself care. Burying your face in your pillow, you burrow into your blankets. You’ll probably be sore and hungover tomorrow... today? The songbirds are just beginning to chirp their morning arias. It makes you sick to your stomach.

As you begin to doze, your phone vibrates.

[one new message]

blade: did you get home

Your mouth feels dry and your chest feels so tight you could die.

you: yeah. jing yuan drove me.

[seen: 5:11 AM]

You hold your breath as Blade begins to type. Then stops typing. Then begins again. It goes on for several volleys and you really do think you might puke.

blade: get some sleep

You drop your phone somewhere in your sheets. Giddiness fills your chest, despite the exhaustion and ache and bone-rotting fatigue. Elation causes you to smile, something wide and girlish that you have to hide in your pillow, lest it be beared to the world.

(It’s a scrap. It’s nothing. It’s worse than the bare minimum and the bar is already in hell.)

But, it’s something.

A morsel. Something to clutch onto and hold and cherish.

You want to put his words between your teeth and swallow.

#lore writes #blade x reader #ren x reader #hsr x reader #thank you to bitti for giving me so much juice to work with!!!#thank you to my early 20s and my time in the local music scene to reach about the most toxic men you can imagine <3 #ENJOY LOVES <3

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chiquititaosita · 4 months

Text

girl dad! geto x mom! reader

-literally cannot I MEAN CANNOT!!! Mimiko and Nanako LOVE THE BABY! Like not even joking they think of her as a baby doll.

- geto puts his little princess in braids and cute hairstyles because of post partum depression. He takes charge sometimes

-“what do I do? Why is it crying?” He asked a little worried. While baby girl yuikiko is throwing herself back and closing her fists as a newborn. She’s so hungry. The nurse explains everything to him. He takes it with a grain of salt.

-takes care of you during pregnancy and your postpartum journey

-the first diaper change is hilarious. “Oh my god!-“ hello covers his mouth gagging looking away as the baby laughs. Because she has a full poopy diaper.

-the twins just laugh, when geto struggles changing yukikos diaper. “Ah little flower is going to give me a hard time.” He mumbles.

-he doesn’t understand what breast milk is until you were legit breastfeeding. “Wait can I try some?” Mother fucker inhaled that shit because it was pleasing to the tongue. puts it in his protein shake 😭

-if you feel insecure about your new mom body he’s not going to be the type of husband that says “fuck get over it.”

-he keeps on admiring your body, like when y’all had y’all’s first time together. “I have so much more respect for you now [y/n]..” he’ll whisper

-one time you came home from work watching the twins, the baby and Suguru all fall asleep, luckily the baby was alive and breathing well. Even sleeping in the portable bassinet around the house.

-is so proud that yukikos first word is mama but when he hears dada he goes feral crying. It’s giving “I’m not crying you are!”

- he is willing to teach his girls his techniques in order to defend themselves when geto is not present.

- now he calls y’all’s daughter a monkey “y/n! this damn monkey baby is putting things it’s in mouth!”

-(when the baby learns to pull hair he regrets it) “okay okay I’m sorry it’s a her my bad!!” 💀

- like fr though he loves your daughter even when she eats her food in nothing but a diaper and strapped in a high chair because she’s exploring taste and texture

-“I’m gonna protect you from everything that’ll potentially and will put you in danger on your mama.”

- one time he let gojo babysit it did not end well (he lost her by almost sealing her with another curse because he wasn’t watching her while she was crawling around) 😭😭

- the baby is very much a daddy’s girl so whatever baby girl wants baby girl gets

-also he holds your hand while holding the baby when she gets her ears pierced. (He shedded more tears than the baby) then the baby was fine after she was given a bottle of milk.

-“she’s fine?”

-the baby tries to hit Suguru for no damn reason ON PURPOSE (when she’s a bit older and can move her arms during that development)

-“OW SHE BIT ME!” the twins will laugh

-the twins will try to feed the baby baby food but wanna watch the baby feed herself.

-“ why is yukiko eating her foot?”

-“ask y/n”

-“why is yukiko eating her foot?”

-“I think she discovered it”

-he’s there for every milestone and trying to record it.

-lots of pictures and videos of the baby with the girls and you.

-when the baby is tired and screaming crying, and you’re not there singing to her. Suguru discovered his singing soothes the baby (regardless if it sounds bad on purpose or not) or if he sings bad lmao

-and geto would never want anything to change because he loves his little family

#⋆˚✿˖° osita’s chisme time #dad!geto suguru x reader fluff #ˏˋ ╎ ⁀➷ osita chisme time ´ˎ˗#jjk headcanons #jjk imagines #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader fluff #suguru geto #jjk x reader #⍣ ೋ osita’s loves #jjk x y/n #jjk x poc!reader #jjk x latina! reader #jjk x black reader #bears chisme♡︎#jjk masterlist #˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ositas jjk masterlist

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queenofallimagines · 8 months

Note

Omg hello!! I just read your devotee headcanons(they were all amazing I loved them) for the brothers and I just wanted to ask if you could do one for guardian angel simeon???in my religion we believe that every person has a guardian angel so imagine how funny it would be when you come down to the devildom and simeon is like :o it's you!!

Certainly beloved!💕 I think this one might be the longest😭

Simeon:

- unlike the others, notices right off the bat

- He’s been assigned to you since before birth like come on he could recognize you by just an eyelash

- Will be slightly hurt if you don’t recognize him

- “You don’t remember me?🥺 but I sing you a lullaby when you were 2”

- Sir…. Please be serious, that’s like 3 seconds of memory

- Will passive aggressively push for you to move in with him in purgatory hall

- Lucifer is exhausted because he’s always there

- “You act like you LIVE here. Go back to YOUR dorms!”

- “Bold of you to think I would leave MY precious, amazing human here will all of you unsupervised”

- He’s not about to stop being clingy neither

- Sharing old stories at student coy meetings like you have got to stop him before he gets out a photo album 😭

- Scolds you like a parent

- “I know you’re now doing what you shouldn’t be”

- Luke is your honorary baby brother

- Will ask Luke to watch you like he’s tall enough to reach the microwave

- “Luke I’ll be back in a minute make sure they don’t have any more sweets”

- Like you’re literally grown💀please tell him to back off a little or this will get worse

- When he realizes he’s falling for you in a way Guardian Angels shouldn’t. He panics

- This the same shit Lilith did

- And he got demoted for just AGREEING with Lucifer about the war

- Hides it like he’s gonna take it to the grave, especially from Luke

- You notice he starts avoiding you a little and will lie through his teeth that he’s just feeling a little under the weather

- Lucifer peeped game though, and he’s like yeah absolutely NOT

- he’s not letting anything else happen to any more of his Family

- Will lock your ass up until he gets Simeon alone to have a talk with him

- Like you now have a curfew 😭

- Listen…. He would tear apart the entire exchange program over lesson 16,,,,

- Like y know how Diavolo said Simeon is the ONE person he doesn’t want to piss off?

- Yeah it’s like inconsolable now

- In any timeline any life any dimension he will feel you’re endanger

- In like Bible canon they really can’t help unless god gives them the okay so they’re often times forced to watch the one they were bound to protect suffer

- But this is the devildom and he don’t really got eyes down here. So who’s to stop him from coming to your aid??

- Even though you’re “technically” okay he’s still like not having it

- As soon as it happens he feels a sharp cold pain throughout his entire body and drops whatever he’s holding

- Struggling to remember how to breathe all he can think about is sprinting to the house of lamentation

- Busts open the doors to see you in mammon arms, and it’s like his whole world shatters

- He hears belphie laughing, and he’s never felt rage like this before

- Lucifer is fighting for his LIFE because he’s having to balance feeling grief, shock,rage, and also try to keep his brothers from going off the deep end so he’s like frozen

- Can’t think fast enough to stop Simeon from unleashing some divine punishment on this spoiled brat

- Lucifer does snatch him up because he will literally kill him in cold blood right there if he doesn’t reason with him

- Almost snaps back on Lucifer before you show up again for the intermission

- Shaking and crying with relief

- You’re gonna make him literally faint MC please😭

- Like don’t the angels use a LOT of magic to keep their emotions in check so they don’t go crazy like demons do?

- They’re having to suppress every emotion ever and dull those

- So he’s got like a couple of eons of just raw feelings pent-up beating his ass all at once

- When you explain the reveal he’s like REALLY about to throw up

- Lucifer and everyone are like feeling relief and are glad you’re okay

- Almost wants to break mammon arms for holding you and barely letting anyone else get near you

- But he’s frozen in shock too

- Lucifer side eying Simon like,,,,, me too bro, but he has NO idea how to talk to him about that?

- Settles for holding you as tight as possible and whispering a prayer into your hair for protection

- Teaches you to use your angel powers

- But doubles down on his over protectiveness

- Helicopter angel now

- Which doesn’t really mesh well with Lucifer’s attachment anxiety

- will come pick you up at random ass times and whisk you away for no reason

- Like the exam is in a month why are you studying devildom history now???

- Causing Lucifer to freak the fuck out when he does his randomly scheduled MC room check-ups

- Doesn’t even think to text you before hyperventilating

- Luckily enough, the first time you come back with Simeon attached at the hip

- Him and Lucifer have gotten into it a few times over this

- Dia is forced to call a student council meeting without you present

- You and Luke think the meeting is tomorrow and are making snacks

- he’s like okay Simeon you can’t keep doing this

- And he goes OFF

- Like this is HIS fault for not watching and protecting you

- Like if this is supposed to be for human angels and demons to coexist you’re doing a shit job

- Almost single-handedly shuts down the program by saying he will take you home and make sure they never get near you ever again

- Lucifer feeling so much guilt he can’t breathe is trying to be in his best behavior and be rational, but Simeon is relentless

- He’s talking out the side of his neck until he snaps back on some “you’re literally following in Lilith’s footsteps! Do you not think that the celestial real won’t also deal out a punishment for MC? You falling from grace isn’t the only thing on the line here.”

- OOP

- It’s suddenly crickets

- Even Barbados is like 😦🫢

- He can’t even deny those allegations so he’s just like glaring at him

- Solomon steps in bc WOW this is getting crazy

- Reasons with him that because you have a pact with all of them now they CANT hurt you and you’re training under him as a sorcerer so you’ll be fully equipped to defend yourself from anything

- Simeon relents at least sitting back down in his chair

- Explains there really nobody best as a candidate for representing the three realms than you being a part of all three of them

- (Lilith when she died wasn’t an angel or a demon but something in between so in my head MC has always been all three; human demon and angel and that’s why they’re extra immune to demon magic)

- Simeon agreeing to chill out a little bit swearing if anything else ever happens to you, he wouldn’t hesitate to target whoever’s directly responsible

- Imagine how awkward the actual meeting is tomorrow 😭

- You’re having a great morning and everyone holding they breath

- Barbados my beloved is the only one who’s got enough sense and acting skills to act like nothing happened

- When you stop lord Doavolo mid-sentence to ask what the FUCK is up with these rancid vibes

- Barbatos kindly informs you that it’s the stress from a new school event that diavolo has yet to announce

- “It happens annually (lie) and it’s usually very exhausting to put together. Perhaps you can alleviate some of that for us.”

- Everyone subtlety lets out the breath they were holding seeing you so excited to help out

- Barbatos stirring the pot a little more ALSO suggests you run the maid bunny café

- Suddenly everyone forgets what the elephant in the room was and is now talking over each other

- There was no school event btw LMAO so they just had to make one up and then take three weeks to prepare for it.

- Great way to lift the spirits though✨

#my writing #x black reader #obey me #obey me x black reader #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me shall we date Simeon #obey me simeon #simeon x reader #om! simeon #obey me x reader #simeon x mc #omswd simeon #slight angst #just for a little spice 💅🏿

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chaostroberry1 · 3 months

Note

Can I get a hcs of Loki, Beelzebub and Hermes knowing that only one human (us) is their worshipper in the modern days? These Gods are not worshipped as much as back then so what would be their reaction to that? (Platonic/romantic is up to you! I'm fine with any of them)

Tyy <3

Ofc!!! I'll do my best. 😌

⚠️Just a disclaimer, I did some research on how the gods were worshipped by their different believers, so please forgive me if I get anything wrong‼️⚠️

Ror characters reacting to only one worshipper

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Loki

- Loki was known for being a trickster, and it's not uncommon to dislike him. he plays tricks, pranks, and is just over all annoying.

- He sure is aware of people's distaste for him and his little games, but it never did bother the man one little bit. Why should he care anyway? He was only in it for the fun, nothing else.

- that was how his mindset worked until he found a certain little mortal wandering out and about, making an offering to him. Now that? That REALLY sparked his interest.

- you wouldn't imagine that evil little grin of mischief on his face. I mean, he was never worshipped before, this was an entirely new feeling to him!

- Even knowing the horrible deeds he's done, or what type of person he is...you didn't care. You did your thing anyway, showing your respect to him. That little tint of hope on your face, completely determined to worship him...

- That was one hell of a turn on.

- He was so so so so soooo excited. overjoyed and overwhelmed with emotions, is this what respected gods get to experience? And HE, out of everyone, was missing out on the fun???

- After that day, the gods were always left with someone lacking in a meeting. Or perhaps, the room just wasn't as full of sly comments or remarks. It was eerily peaceful to say the least. But it's better than putting up with some green headed jerk, right?

- Loki on the other hand, would always be seen watching over you with lovestruck eyes. Sometimes going into the mortal realm and turning into little insects, spying on you.

- Mans was lovestruck as hell.

- Like forget playing pranks on people, he had a new form of entertainment. Probably giving little clues in your surroundings whenever you ask for signs that he was listening.

- he'd learn your name, and get incredibly upset whenever your attention was not on him. You were his worshipper, so you had too act like it, no arguments needed.

- I just imagine one time the gods are in a meeting, he'd randomly brag about his dear loyal worshipper, making comments like "oh, my dear beloved (y/n) also has a thing like that in the mortal world~" when Thor was literally in the middle of talking about a brutal slaughter that occured somewhere around the place. 💀

- it even weirds out the deities thinking about how much he knew about you.

Beelzebub

- now, beel here is different. He's been known to be evil itself, and all the works written about him is just all the brutal and horrible things he's done.

- He was also aware that many disliked him, but what could he do? He was rumoured to be Satan himself. it wasn't his fault, but all the fingers were pointing at him.

- then he found you, a very determined worshipper with sworn loyalty to him. You believed that he was innocent, and it wasn't his fault. Catching him off guard for once.

- that of course, made him feel a little nice inside. But he had to stop himself. You were just a pitiful mortal with hope, and hope doesn't last very long.

- it made him nervous. What if he repeated the same mistake he had committed before? What of he kills another innocent life who wanted nothing but to worship him?

- he'd try to send signals to you, a sign that you should stop. Trying to get you off his back. But you never did, you didn't care.

- it made him warm, and nice. For the first time in ages, he experienced a nice feeling. And now that he's more controlled with his emotions, he could atleast try. Maybe give it a little chance.

- he found out what your name was, and it brought him peace whenever that same name took up some space in his thoughts.

- Maybe here and there, he'll help you out a bit, Getting rid of those who've done wrong to you. Maybe even showing vulnerability in some occasions.

- and on very very rare occasions, he'd get a little jealous. A little jealous when you show care towards another. He actually did enjoy your love towards him, and had gotten used to it.

- even if he was cold and unapproachable, He had a little soft spot for you in his heart.

- He wanted to cherish this feeling, just for a little while.

Hermes

- mf literally goes around spying on people's private affairs. You know when Poseidon 'killed' adamas? Bro was literally eavesdropping, but got caught anyway. Not even afraid of admitting that he was a rotten scoundrel/cause for a few problems.

- that's why the gods keep an eye out for him, knowing that if word ever got out about anything, it may as well end in chaos.

- he's pretty chill, unless you try him. Finding out that he had a worshipper did quite amuse him in a way. Not to the point where he'd be like Loki..*cough*

- maybe a word would slip out of his mouth, a little "oh my.." possibly.

- I have a little headcanon that since he's pretty handsome, he has a few share of admirers. Maybe nymphs and so on. That's why a worshipper wouldn't really come off as too much of a surprise. I could be wrong.

- But all that aside, seeing your desication and loyalty to him was a nice feeling. especially since nowadays, there weren't many who bothered worshipping deities they couldn't even see. Some growing detached from their own beliefs, and giving up.

- The world is a big place, yet you were the one to catch his eye the most. And maybe he might've grown a little fond of you.

- in his spare time, he'd be composing beautiful melodies dedicated to you. Ehem, as a way of showing his appreciation of course. Don't have your mind wandering off any further than that.

- There were probably also deities out there who hated his guts, not that it mattered to him. He has no more interest in that. he was more busy and happy to give his attention towards you and your little beliefs.

- Maybe at night, you might hear the faint sound of a violin, a beautiful melody that puts you to sleep. Waking up to believe that it was just a dream..or so you thought.

- that's right, just close your eyes and let him take care of you.

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pupyuj · 1 year

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gp itzy thoughts i beg cuz ur yuna one has me GIGGLING

i got you anon 😩😤😤 i personally view all of g!p itzy as subs (yes even ryujin don't fight me on this 🤭🤭) unless the scenario prompt is specific SO IT'S DOM READER TIME 😏 their names r color coded cuz some are longer than others i got a bit too into it 💀

that g!p yeji thought i posted a while ago is kinda perfect bcs it's just so her?? like to be so weak n pathetic when it comes to you :(( a little tease n baby is immediately rock hard, weakly asking for you to stop messing with her but secretly wanting for you to just,, ride her already 😭😭😭 she definitely likes being forced into having sex in like, public spaces 🤭 like she's saying "no stop (y/n) we can'tttt there's people here :((" but then why is she eagerly pounding into you while she's holding you up against the mirror in a changing room?? why isn't she doing anything other than sitting there n letting you jerk her off while you're in the movie theatre??? 🫢

lia's never beating the pillow princess allegations to me, even when she has a dick 🫡🫡 you're so pretty to her that she just wants to sit back and watch you do whatever you want to her with her cock :(( which ties into her voyeurism bcs she definitely gets off to the sight of you playing w your pussy in front of her,,, and n also in front of the mirror but like you're giving her a handjob n whispering dirty and borderline mean shit to her ear it gets her sooo horny you have no idea 😭😭😭 n she loves when u give her head bcs she can just look at your pretty face taking in her cock, she gets so proud :( big on praises during those moments but ultimately she's a slut for you 🫣

ryujin is kind of the tsundere-ish, pissy pants, big pride = big dick girl who hates being teased and played with but unfortunately you're a fucking brat 🤭 you're always groping her cock while people are around (they never notice), telling her things in her ear, wearing revealing clothing to rile her up, being touchy w people... but see, even if that makes ryujin pissed as hell she will not like, grab you and ruin you— no, that's what you do to her 👀 coming home from a party after flirting w the entire fucking house n ryujin is soooo mad 😭 like she's huffing, arms crossed and glaring at you while sitting on the bed as you're talking like nothing happened.. then you notice that look in her face n you laugh at her, making her even more mad 😭😭 but then you stand in between her legs and make her look up at you.. suddenly her eyes were the same as a puppy's?? like glossy and pleading while you're talking to her like, "d'you get jealous of that guy? c'mon, ryu, you know i only want your cock..." and "want me to prove it?" then she's nodding w a pout 🥺🥺🥺

making ryujin lay down on the bed to give her the best head of her life, one that pushes her to tears and has her seeing stars 🫠🫠 by the time you're riding her, she's crying bcs you feel so fucking good, like she's in literal disbelief over it 😩 sometimes the pleasure gets too much that ryujin will be so lost in her head while you're forcing orgasms out of her, but you're there to keep her grounded 🤭 leaning down to kiss her just to keep her eyes open and saying, "s-see, ryu?? fuck... i only want you..." she never doubted you ever again, but that didnt rlly stop you from just pissing her off anyway 😭

chaeryeong's reputation ain't the greatest bcs of her permanent rbf but that's what u love about her :( bcs she looks like this mean bitch who could kill anyone that thinks to approach you in a way she doesn't but u know how she is behind closed doors :(( she's your whiny baby who hides her face whenever you're touching her dick 😔 she's big on mommy kink and she's super polite 🥺🥺 always using 'please' whenever she wants to do something to you, or asking for your permission before coming she's the cutest 💔💔 and she looooves the collar + leash combo while fucking you from behind 😵‍💫 you pulling on the leash to bring her down, telling her to fuck you harder n then she's moaning "mommy!" in your ear the closer she gets to coming it makes her feel crazyy 😩

yuna is the type that can't keep her hands or her dick off of you 😭😭 she's always touching you and finds all the ways to feel your ass on her cock whether by sitting you down on her lap or hugging you from behind 😵‍💫 quickies happen a lot bcs again, she's just so addicted to the way your pussy clenches around her cock she literally cannot go a day without fucking you :(( so being apart from you is hard, sex wise!!!! she gets so pouty n she complains a lot,,, sends you photos and videos while you're away, and PHONE SEX!!!!! but it's never enoughhhh 😔😔 when you come back however.. be prepared for an entire day of fucking bcs yuna will literally not let you go anywhere once you're back with her 😭 yuna immediately pulling you to the bedroom as soon as you step inside her house :(( undressing you swiftly, pulling you to her lap to have you ride her cock for god knows how long 😵‍💫😵‍💫 her cum filling you up for hours but neither of you stopping bcs her cock and your pussy are just.. the perfect match 😔😚😚

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solitudeintheheart · 1 year

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I got this idea in my head and it's literally drowning me. It's a toxic thing with Konig, so if you don't wanna write that, I totally get it, just ignore it. (Your blog feeds my obsession 💀)

The team gets sent on a mission to debunk some cartel or smth and a long the way they run into a girl who was being held captive w the bad guys and since Konig finds her first, he saves her and since she has no one else, she clings to him and he is just obsessed with her. Like someone so innocent just attached herself to his hip and only trusts him and it makes him crazy for her because he's never had anyone like that. He tries hard in missions to get back to her, she waits up and keeps his bed warm so she knows he's okay. Anyone disrespects her? Dead. Talk about her in anyway but perfect? Dead. Touch her? Deader than dead. He's her savior and she's his girl. That's just how it is.

Perfect, perfect, perfect! A lovely request from your majesty. You really are a shining beacon to the kingdom, and I will happily accept!

I present to you…

STUCK LIKE GLUE

PART ONE | PART TWO HERE (2.0k words)

CW: guns, mentions of possible abuse, but other than that, just fluff

“These low-lives really like to run around and hide, don’t they Colonel?” Horangi speaks in a quiet tone as the Kortac team walks through a mountain-range forest. They were sent to catch a bunch of cartel-nobodies in the middle of a trade-off by surprise, but after the unit’s location was continuously found out, they had been on a wild goose-chase ever since.

“Ja, but we will get them this time. I feel it in my bones.” He had a confident tone, and his voice was raspy. “Let’s split up, we will find their transaction site faster that way.” König began to walk through the bushes, trying to make his steps as light as possible. His gun aimed and ready for anything that would pop out, he walked until he came across a small, worn-down shed. He hid behind a tree and saw a man sitting outside on his phone; he was probably supposed to guard the shed, but the lack of more security arose suspicions. He aimed his gun and fired, and the man fell to the ground. His eyes scanned the perimeter for any other enemies, and he determined everything was all clear. He walked to the side of the shed and peeked through the window, where he saw a woman with her hands and legs tied together. She lay on a tattered mattress, and it honestly seemed like she hadn’t had a bath in days, her only clothes were her undergarments. He looked inside the rest of the shed and saw no one else, so he walked back around to the door and opened it quietly. With the door now wide open, the woman backed away into the corner and trembled at the sight of such a large, hooded man before her.

“Please…please just leave me alone…” Her voice was shaky, and her eyes began to well up with tears. What had she really gone though?

“Do not worry, miss, I am not here to hurt you,” He stepped closer with as much gentleness as possible, trying his best to not scare her any further. He crouched low to the ground and laid his gun down, his hands in front of his chest with his palms facing her. “I am here to help you get out, if you will let me…?” He removed his glove and reached over to undo her restraints. She looked at his rough, coarse hands covered in calluses, and although it wasn’t the prettiest sight, she suddenly felt safe. Maybe this guy really could give her a home.

Once the ropes fell to the floor, she threw herself onto him in a tight hug. König couldn’t fathom the possible atrocities that were committed to this woman, and just thinking about them made him want to hug her back, but tighter.

“Colonel, we found the location. Where are you?” Horangi’s voice came through a radio on König’s chest, and he pressed a button on it to respond.

“I found one hostage in a shed. A woman,”

“They have hostages?” Horangi sighed quietly on the other end.

“I only saw one, but who knows if there will be more. Let’s just hope there aren’t.” König asked for the coordinates and looked down at the woman who was now staring at him.

“I need you to come with me so I can keep you safe, but we will be going near the bad men. Are you alright with that? You’ll have to obey my orders if you don’t want to get hurt.” His eyes softened for her, she looked around and bit her finger trying to make a decision.

“A-alright…” She said, and she was suddenly swept off her feet. König carried her bridal style so her bare feet wouldn’t scratch on the forest ground. To someone like her, he looked like a god; her savior in her darkest time. The entire time she was carried, she looked at him with awe.

“I need you to stay low and quiet, okay?” He placed her down a little far away and he patted her hair. He peeked up from the plants and regrouped with the rest, his hand gesturing forward for the entire unit to start moving towards the abandoned building where the trade-off was taking place. She looked through the shrubs and watched as they all surrounded the building and then bursted in. She cupped her hands over her ears when the sound of gunfire and yelling that seemed to last forever took place, and she worried if her savior wouldn’t make it out alive. What if he gets killed, or worse, what if he gets taken like she did? She waited until the gunfire stopped and she ran to the building, her feet getting scratched and cut by the sticks on the ground. She slammed the door open and looked inside, panting. Multiple guns were pointed at her out of caution.

“Warte, don’t hurt her!” König’s voice boomed through the building and everyone immediately put their guns down. Her eyes welled up with tears, and just as her knees were about to give in, he rushed to her side and held her up.

“I-I thought something bad happened to you…!” She clung to his shirt and cried into his chest; her sobs could break the hearts of people who didn’t even know what was going on. He wrapped his arms around her and let her cry all she wanted.

“Who is this?” They all began to walk closer, curious as to who had tamed the wild beast that was König.

“The single hostage,” He crouched down so they were now eye level and took off his gloves, his hands held her face. “Did you really think I’d let something bad happen to me? I’m tougher than I look, Liebling.”

What a spectacle it was to see König being gentle with someone, as the only side they’ve seen of him was one full of bloodshed and gore. Now it almost seemed as if flowers were growing around him.

“Do you have a home to go to?” He asked, and she shook her head.

“I had a father, but he was killed for not paying off his debts. It’s just me…” Her voice was still shaky, but she was no longer crying. He nodded and picked her up once again, he turned around to look at his team.

“She will come back to base with us, and I will take care of her. If any of you even try something, I’ll tear your limbs off one by one.” By his eyes alone, everyone could tell he wasn’t joking. This lost puppy has found its new owner, and he will make sure she never loses her way again.

————————

The ride back to base was silent, not because it was awkward, but because the team knew that if they even peeped a word and woke the girl, they’d regret it later. She was carried to König’s room and was sat down on a chair, König kneeled down in front of her as she rubbed her eyes.

“Do you think you have enough energy for a bath?” He asked while looking up at her. She nodded and stood up, he led her to the bathroom. He turned on the water and let the tub fill up before wondering how she was going to wash herself without getting hurt. It seems as though he really has taken her for a helpless animal that he came across, wounded and forlorn.

“I’ll look away while you undress and get in the tub. Make sure to sit with your back towards me so I can wash your hair.” He took off his gear and looked at the wall as he heard the sounds of clothes falling to the ground. There were small splashes of water when she stepped in, and it finally grew quiet.

“Alright, you can turn around now.” He turned around and sat on the floor of the bathroom so he wouldn’t accidentally see her naked body. He reached forward and splashed water on her hair before pumping shampoo in his hands and lathering it all over. He made sure to be gentle as his fingers massage her scalp, her head bounced backwards every so often from nearly falling asleep.

“Can you wash your body yourself?” He asked quietly and she nodded. She put body wash on her hands and foamed it up as she rubbed it on her upper body. Once he saw that she finished, he grabbed the shower head and rinsed her hair and body off.

“You can dry off now, I’ll wait outside.” He grabbed a towel and handed it to her, those small hands grabbing it with grace contrasting his rough hold. After König left the bathroom, he sat on the couch and leaned back, rubbing his eyes. This girl was now his responsibility, but he surprisingly wasn’t complaining. Normally he would prefer to not have to watch over someone twenty-four seven, but she was an exception.

She walked out of the bathroom with the towel on, but her hair dropped water on the floor. How could he forget to get her clothes? He rose up quickly and looked through his wardrobe, trying to find something for her to wear before she gets sick from the cold. He yanked out a large t-shirt and sweatpants and handed them to her.

“Are you alright with wearing this without undergarments? I’ll take you to buy some tomorrow after my mission, so don’t fret.” He gave her the clothes when she nodded, and he turned around, listening for the sound of fabric grazing against her skin. She tapped his shoulder and he shifted his body back towards her. His clothes fit very loosely on her, and the sweatpants were clearly big, but it would have to do for tonight.

“You can sleep on my bed for the night. I’ll set up some blankets down on the floor.” He looked under his bed and took out a box full of blankets, opening it and setting them down on the floor.

“No, I couldn’t…I’d feel bad,”

“And I’d feel worse if you don’t.” He looked up at her, he was kneeling on the floor trying to straighten out each of the blankets before she unsuccessfully tried to pick him up by the arm.

“Then let’s both sleep on the bed. Please?” She had those same eyes when he first found her, and as if some gravitational pull attracted him to her, he didn’t hesitate to move onto the bed and lay her down next to him. They were face to face when he laid down, taking in all of her facial features while the only thing the girl could look at were his eyes.

“I have to go wash up as well, so you should fall asleep first, alright?” He brushed the hair on her face behind her ear and sat up. “Oh, and don’t worry if you don’t see me next morning, my mission starts early. I’ll come back quickly, though.” He smiled and stood up, making his way to the bathroom.

————————

König stumbled to his quarters and opened the door, the girl lay on his bed sleeping peacefully. It had been around a month since she had come into his life, and he had already grown accustomed to her. He took a shower and walked back out to the bed, he lay himself in front of her and enveloped her in his arms. Her eyes fluttered open to see a maskless König, which she had the privilege of seeing weeks before, and she cuddled closer to him.

“When did you get back?” Her voice was quiet and muffled against his chest.

“Around thirty or forty minutes ago. You should go back to sleep.” He kissed her forehead and massaged her back, allowing her breathing to be his lullaby. She may have thought him her savior, but to him, this woman was his downfall. His only weakness was a girl who had looked to him for the comfort of a home.

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