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lumi-klovstad-games · 7 months

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"Any Path To Victory Will Do": The Ghestan Storm Legions

In the grim darkness of the far future, there is only war. In this galaxy beset by constant blood and battle, hallmarked by hellish conditions and a cold and unrelenting hostility to the very idea of civilization itself, the residents of one world in particular have risen to the challenge, and managed to do more than simply survive: they thrive.

It is not clear when or how the world of Ghestus Prime first came to be colonized by humanity, or if the world was more hospitable when it was. In the Age of Strife, Ghestus Prime became cut off from the rest of humanity by Warp Storms, and any knowledge of how people had come to be there was lost. The planet is a veritable hellscape, a harsh and unforgiving world like no other. The atmosphere has an exceptionally low oxygen content, and is full of gasses that are toxic to humans. Outside the shelter zones, the air is packed with thick radioactive dust by never-ending dust storms that have also significantly dimmed the effective output of Ghestus Prime’s sun, rendering conventional farming impossible. The dim sunlight provides little respite from the cold on Ghestus Prime’s surface, and much of the year is spent in sub-freezing conditions, with the warmest days only crossing into the mid-40’s on the Fahrenheit Scale. It is this comfort-forsaken world that has given rise to the Ghestan people, a highly resilient civilization of abhumans who have perfectly adapted to rise to their homeworld’s challenges, on societal, technological, and even biological levels. In the dim and the dark of Ghestus Prime’s surface, the Ghestan people became pale, with translucent skin and red eyes giving them a frightening visage. Their bodies have outstanding resilience to radiation and physical damage compared to mainline humans. However, due to their world’s peculiar atmosphere that the Ghestans have adapted to breathe normally, they require environmental masks when traveling off-world to breathe effectively, as a more Earth-like atmosphere has become almost toxic to them. On top of these challenges, the Ghestans had to contend with their world’s own natural disasters, deadly predators, and frequent raids by the Dark Eldar.

The Ghestans had little choice but to meet their challenges head on, and they developed a culture that prizes survival above all, as well as resourcefulness, adaptability, and brutal efficiency. Without the extra resources to enable slower, more democratic or bureaucratic systems, the Ghestans learned to value and cultivate charismatic and iron-willed leaders, favoring powerful and indomitable men of grand vision who by force of will and force of arms could unite the Ghestan people into pursuing common goals, and who would be adaptable in the face of ever-changing conditions. They adopted a strong martial tradition, and passed on to their children their most essential lesson: the wants of the individual are inconsequential when the survival of the whole is on the line. They learned to fight back against their assailants, and on the resource and advantage-starved world of Ghestus Prime, willingly refusing anything that could give your community an edge in the survival stakes simply wasn’t done. As the Ghestan people got better at killing Dark Eldar raiders, they began to salvage the Drukhari’s weapons, vehicles, and other technology, and set their finest minds to work in determining how this technology worked and how to integrate it into their own, all for the glory and survival of the Ghestan people.

The Ghestans have a long and proud history of association with the Imperial military, with the Ghestan Storm Legions only being the most modern incarnation, emerging in the late 38th Millennium. The seeds were planted far earlier, however, during the Great Crusade, when the God Emperor’s forces rediscovered Ghestus Prime, and brought it into compliance. The God Emperor was impressed by the Ghestan people’s will to survive, their courage, and their skill, and so offered them a place in his Imperium of Man. The God Emperor of Mankind was exactly the sort of leader the Ghestans valued, and they enthusiastically took up the banner of his Empire, sending forth professional armies to fight in his name, and to kill for his cause. The Ghestan Army Legions swiftly became famed for their unbreakable determination, their resilience, and their sheer adaptability in the face of harsh conditions, while they became equally feared and maligned for their ruthless pragmatism and cruel battlefield calculus. The Ghestan Army Legions fought alongside the Emperor’s Forces in countless campaigns, burning a trail of blood and glory across the galaxy in the name of the Emperor’s promised utopia to come. During the Great Crusade, they encountered many other Imperial factions, such as the Space Marines of the Adeptus Astartes, the keen minds of the Adeptus Mechanicus, and their fellow soldiers in the Imperial Army, from all walks of life. Some of these factions grew to respect and admire the Ghestan soldiers for their accomplishments and abilities, while others distrusted or despised them outright for their history of integrating Drukhari technology into their own, as well as their callous disregard for civilian lives and those of non-Ghestan soldiers. Of the Space Marines, the Ghestans rapidly came to respect the Iron Warriors the best, as they saw in the Iron Warriors many of the same brutally efficient and calculating values that Ghestan culture instilled in all its children.

The Ghestan Armies were nearly broken during the Horus Heresy, when they were betrayed by one of their own: Lord Brigadier Lareas, who had secretly defected to Chaos. He led the bulk of the Ghestan troops into a trap on the planet of Odraustea, where they were ambushed by the Iron Warriors that they had once respected, along with a host of daemons. Lareas also sabotaged the Ghestan’s communications and supplies, leaving them isolated and vulnerable. The Ghestans fought valiantly, but suffered near-total casualties and losses before they were rescued by a host of Ultramarines. While Lareas’ heresy was exposed, and the Ghestans prosecuted their own brand of justice against the traitor, Lareas’ mission had still been a resounding success: the damage the Ghestans had suffered had been well beyond what was needed to remove their armies from the fight, and the battered survivors fell back to Ghestus Prime to ensure their people’s survival, just as Lareas had planned. The Odraustean Betrayal removed the Ghestan Armies from being an active participant in the Horus Heresy going forward, and the Ghestan people were left deeply shaken by Lareas' Judas-kiss.

The Ghestans are never a civilization to be counted out, however. They have survived and recovered from similar disasters before the Imperium, and the events of the Heresy and the Oudrastean Betrayal proved no different in that regard. Within scant centuries, they were eventually able to recover from the losses of the Heresy, and returned with pride and glory to Imperial service, albeit far more wary and cautious of allies and enemies alike. Their soldiers would face yet more challenges and temptations from the forces of Chaos, who tried to sway them with promises of power, glory, knowledge, and comfort. The new “Ghestan Storm Legions” resisted these temptations by keeping to their promised duty to the Emperor’s cause – a Ghestan promise made is not one to be broken – and remembering their obligations to their own people, and leaning on thousands of years of highly rigorous martial discipline to enforce control of themselves, up and down the chain of command.

On the war-torn world of Viyonlia, the 3rd Storm Legion's 20th Army faced a horde of Khornate cultists and daemons. They were surrounded by bloodshed and carnage, and felt the rage and bloodlust of the Blood God in their veins. They heard his voice in their minds, urging them to kill and slaughter for his glory. He promised them more power and renown if they joined his ranks and renounced their loyalty to the Emperor. The Storm Legions resisted Khorne’s temptation by remembering their duty and discipline, and by using their tactics and strategy to overcome the enemy’s brute force. Fighting with discipline, courage, skill, and a willingness to self-sacrifice for the good of the unit, they managed to break through the enemy lines and reach their objective, where they activated a powerful bomb that destroyed the Khornate forces and their portal to the Warp.

On Tocrides, the 7th Storm Legion's 667th Recon Division were sent to a hidden research facility where they discovered a cache of ancient and forbidden technology. They were fascinated by the devices and machines, and felt the curiosity and ambition of the Changer of Ways in their hearts. They saw his visions in their dreams, showing them the secrets and mysteries of the universe. He offered them more knowledge and wisdom if they joined his schemes and betrayed their comrades. The Storm Legions resisted Tzeentch’s temptation by holding to their pragmatism and caution, and by reminding themselves of the pain and horror suffered by their forefathers during the Horus Heresy on Odraustea as a result of Laraes’ treachery. They reported their findings to their superiors, and subsequently followed their orders to secure the facility. They managed to fend off an attack by Tzeentchian cultists and daemons, who tried to steal the technology and use it for their own ends, and finally, by then thoroughly wary of the visions and dreams they had endured, they ultimately destroyed the facility and its contents rather than bring them home to endanger their people.

During the Plague Wars against Mortarion, several Storm Legions were mobilized, and all were assigned to quarantine zones where they faced endless plagues of Nurgle’s diseases and toxins. They were exposed to decay and rot, and felt the pain and despair of the Plague God in their flesh. They smelled his stench in their nostrils, sapping their strength and willpower. He offered them more protection and comfort if they joined his embrace and accepted his gifts. It is recalled that not one Legion nor soldier fell to Chaos that day: for the Storm Legions resisted Nurgle’s temptation, struggling to the very last with all their famed strength and resilience, and by using their rebreathers and environmentally sealed armor as makeshift HAZMAT suits to withstand the plague. They also relied on each other, deepening fraternal ties between soldiers, with their comradery bolstering morale; through that, the same determination and endurance that had so impressed the God Emperor in the 30th Millennium now vexed the Plague Father in the 42nd. They held the line, and endured, bringing pride and glory to their forefathers, and in the end, it was the Plague Itself that broke before the Guard did.

In late M41, the 66th Storm Legion was infiltrated by a Slaaneshi spy who tried to seduce them with pleasure and pain, for a fallen Ghestan Storm Legion in the service of Slaanesh would be a powerful asset for the Prince of Excess. They were tempted by dreamlike visions full of whirlwind sensations of every stripe and hue, and felt the desire and excess of the Master of Sin in their souls. They heard his laughter in their ears, enticing them to indulge in their fantasies and passions. He offered them more satisfaction and rewards than they could imagine, if they joined his service and renounced their honor. The Legion resisted Slaanesh’s temptation by remembering their duty and purpose, and by using their balance and moderation to control their emotions, remembering that the wants of the individual are insignificant when the survival of the whole was on the line. They exposed the spy’s identity, and managed to capture him before he could carry out his plot, and tortured him for information via sensory deprivation regarding his cult’s activities before killing him quickly, bluntly. and abruptly with no experiences or sensations to savor: exactly the way a Slaaneshite fears most.

Despite the flourishing of the Imperial Cult in the millennia after the Horus Heresy, the Ghestans have, with a small handful of individual exceptions, by and large never bought into the notion of the God Emperor as a literal deity. This is not the result of any great philosophizing on their part, but rather another expression of classical Ghestan pragmatism – they simply believe that on a world as harsh as theirs, one has more practical and immediate problems to solve than fussing over who’s a god and who’s not. Those who have taken up the Imperial Faith are tolerated, so long as their practice remains isolated and does not impede in their day to day duties. Most Ghestans remain staunchly areligious, which has brought them into conflict with factions like the Ecclesiarchy and the Inquisition. Likewise, their willingness to innovate scientifically and technologically, and even incorporate xenotech, has earned them the ire and hatred of the Adeptus Mechanicus, to which the Ghestan Legions have responded with an even more infuriating indifference as they devote themselves ever further to understanding, refining, and maintaining their crafts and sciences, refusing to give up any of their self-sufficiency to such backwards and counterproductive morons as those that make up the Mechanicus.

Outside the Empire, the Ghestans maintain their powerful hatred for the Drukhari, who have caused their people so much suffering over their history. Post Heresy, they also possess a deep-seated hatred of traitors, not only because of their betrayal on Oudrastea, but because Ghestan culture maintains that success is only possible when everyone pulls together towards the same end goal. As a result, in their eyes, Traitors are selfish hypocrites who, now isolated from their original group, cannot build or accomplish anything worthwhile, while also depriving their original community of the means to do the same. More recently, they have come to form a bitter rivalry with the forces of the T’au Empire, with the Ghestans maintaining that the T’au are no more virtuous than themselves, but hypocritically cover up their monstrous nature with constant babbling about “the Greater Good''. This has not stopped the ever-resourceful Ghestans from stealing or otherwise recovering T’au technology to be reverse-engineered and assimilated, recognizing the value in the T’au’s military innovations and actively working to integrate these into their own practices.

To the incredible fury of the Adeptus Mechanicus and great concern of the Inquisition, these efforts to reproduce xenos tech have borne much fruit over the years, and the modern Storm Legions represent the very latest in Ghestan battlefield innovations. Unlike other Imperial Guard Armies, their history of coming from an inhospitable death world has left the Ghestans in a perpetual state of scrappy desperation, and they will not willingly discard tools that could give them an advantage. This has led to them fielding one of the most technologically advanced armies in the Imperium. Of special interest to their engineers is the T’au mastery of energy weapons, though to their great frustration, they have not developed the capacity to recreate this technology yet. In order to conceal what they know others will accuse as heresy, the Ghestans take their time in recreating xenotech, all the better to disguise the process as natural innovation and engineering advancement that has resulted from classic Ghestan resourcefulness, though the Adeptus Mechanicus and the Inquisition strongly suspect the truth, though their efforts to prove such have been hamstrung by the essential nature of the Storm Legions to Roboute Guilliman’s Indomitus Crusade. Guilliman and several other high ranking individuals are aware of the true origins of Ghestan technological advancement, but have made repeated exceptions for the Storm Legions and their people, under the condition that the Ghestans know that the nail that sticks out too far WILL be hammered without mercy, which the Ghestans regard as a fair trade. It goes without saying that the Ghestans' technologically progressive policies might have been catastrophic for them had the Imperium (and Mars) not had significantly larger concerns almost constantly. The Adeptus Mechanicus has frequently been left frothing at the mouth as a result of interactions with Ghestan elements, with the two societies being more or less entirely anathema to each other, only barely cooperating at all by virtue of their shared duty to the Imperium of Man. Fortunately for them, Ghestan troop divisions remain very much an apple of the Astra Militarum's eye, and they are now regarded as even more favored, elite, and utterly indispensable in the eyes of the Departmento Munitorum after the fall of Cadia. Whatever accusations the Mechanicus may shriek in their direction, no Imperial Commander who is serious about winning has so far been willing to shoot their campaign in the foot by denying themselves of the results assured by Ghestan participation.

Ghestan innovation and reverse-engineering is not restricted purely to weapons and technology, but also has informed their fighting doctrines. Their first hand observation of the effectiveness of Drukhari raids has led to the Storm Legions adopting a doctrine called “Thunderbolt Warfare'', which emphasizes a combined arms force making rapid progression from one objective to the next as quickly and effectively as possible, striking the next objective before or just as news of the previous objective has reached the new lines, giving the enemy no time to prepare an organized defense. Where such efforts have been stymied or simply are not realistic expectations, the Storm Legions reveal their full battlefield powers as their army and vanguard forces meet and combine; the Storm Legions employ mixed unit tactics, special forces detachments, heavy armored divisions, and even possess their own air superiority force, all to shift their battlefield presence and capabilities in real time as the situation demands, making them very hard to pin down. In addition, their insight into xenotech has given them some of the finest infantry armor in the Imperium, falling short of power armor. This superior armor, combined with their natural resilience to serious injury, enables the Storm Legions to directly charge enemy lines, and survive or even shrug off injuries that would incapacitate or even kill normal or less well protected humans.

The Storm Legions, unfortunately, are as harsh and unforgiving as the world they hail from. Those they tend to consider heroes, like their living legend, Radec Redblood – the so-called “Savior of Hive City Aloma”-- are often monsters willing to employ callous, machiavellian, cold-blooded, and inhumane tactics in order to achieve victory. Among the Storm Legions, Radec Redblood is a living legend, a hero of peerless repute, and the troops regard him like a demi-god, but he remains a highly controversial figure outside his Legions for his cold and calculating tactics at the Siege of Palonia. Palonia was a hive world that had the incredible misfortune to also be a Necron Tomb World. When the Tomb activated and the Necrons began slaughtering the populace and compromising the viability of Hive City Aloma, the "Second City" of Palonia, it was the 19th Storm Legions' 5th Army, under the command of Radec, who answered the call for help, but the Alomans may have preferred the Necrons in the end. A strong initial push by the Fifth was rebutted by a devastating Necron counterattack, ravaging the Fifth by targeting their most effective weapons for killing Necrons, and wiping out over 62% of the Fifth's soldiers and logistics personnel. Refusing to cede an inch of ground and desperate to turn the fight back in the Imperium's favor, Radec forcibly conscripted the remaining population of Hive City Aloma, armed them with substandard weapons, and began his war of attrition, trading civilian lives for the time he needed to be resupplied. The order was met with resistance from the civilian population at first, but Radec's firing squads, who promptly executed thousands of civilian objectors and deserters for heresy, proved to be as fearsome as the enemy Necrons to the Aloman citizens, if not more so. Millions more were mercilessly cut down by Radec's constant orders to send his new militia on suicide runs, which he neither hated or enjoyed, considering it no more or less than the brutal calculus necessary to accomplish his mission. Controversial as they were, the suicide missions met with strategic success, providing enough pressure to pin the Necrons in place while Radec waited for reinforcements and supplies. After several months, these finally arrived, and Radec then gave the order to use his new weapons and professional soldiers to turn the Necron positions into glass, finally eliminating the threat. In the end, his victory came at the cost of 88.3 million civilian lives, which Radec regarded as "acceptable sacrifices to prevent such a critical world from falling into the hands of the enemy", as well as retaining it for the Imperium’s continued use – new workers could always be found.

Radec would later justify his actions to detractors as fulfilling his mission to the letter: he was told to deny Hive City Aloma to the enemy, and if possible, preserve its facilities for further use by the Imperium. Ultimately, as he saw nothing in his orders stating the city needed to be fully inhabited, he only withheld from conscripting the most important and essential workers and laborers who would be the most difficult to replace. Even Lord Salazar Jomenga, the Imperial Governor ruling over the planet, was conscripted and forced to fight and die. When Jomenga tried to flex his nobleman's position, Radec icily replied "Noble blood is cheaper than tin, and even less useful." before handing the high lord a knife and a laspistol and sending him at the enemy. To this day, Radec Redblood, "The Savior Of Hive City Aloma" remains bitterly hated in the city he saved, his name seldom spoken aloud by the survivors, and with clear revulsion when it is. Meanwhile, to his men and at home on Ghestus Prime, Radec is regarded with an almost saintly reputation for his survival and victory against such impossible odds and determined enemies. Radec is hardly an outlier: Ghestan commanders have a well deserved reputation for employing such cruel, inhumane, or otherwise underhanded tactics to win, explained by the Storm Legion wisdom: “There is always a preferred path to victory, but the battlefield doesn’t care, and by battle’s end, any path to victory will do so long as you have the strength to walk it.”

The Ghestan Storm Legions remain some of the Empire’s most driven, talented soldiers, a testament to human tenacity, and in many ways embodying the most core values of the Imperium, though many of their detractors would be loath to admit it. Their people have endured some of the harshest conditions imaginable for over ten thousand years, and far from breaking them, it has only tempered them further at every step. They are a proud people, a pragmatic people, and their soldiers understand that victory only comes to those with the strength and the will to claim it, no matter the cost. Their current status is not precisely known, aside from taking part in some of the most bitter fighting of the Indomitus Crusade. Despite accusations of Heresy by some, the Ghestan Storm Legions remain steadfastly loyal to the Emperor, and his regent, Roboute Guilliman, for a Ghestan promise made is a promise kept. They have faced the temptations of Chaos, and remain unbowed. They have passed through fire and betrayal, and returned all the stronger for it.

As the Storm Legions call to rally on countless battlefields: “Unity brings Strength, Strength brings Victory!”

As long as the Storm Legions carry this certainty in their hearts, Ghestus Prime shall never break, and her soldiers shall never yield. Respect them or despise them as you will, for they care not. They will do what they must, as they have always done. They will fight for survival, for glory, and for the Emperor... and no force within or without the Imperium can stop them.

#I actually wrote this back in APRIL #I wanted to do something other than Space Marines #The goal was to adapt the Helghast from Killzone as an Imperial Guard faction #in the end I love what came out #they are evil by any objective measure we have irl #but I also can understand how they ended up that way; what winding and uncertain path brought them to what they are #& they are not wholly evil as they have several redeeming qualities:#they favor ingenuity + innovation + service + honor + honesty + possess a strong and incredibly loyal sense of community and brotherhood #and honestly given how cruel and barbaric the Imperium of Man actually is it's very likely that these guys are actually pretty average #one shudders to imagine #also yes they did in fact overcome the temptations of Chaos by being Very Good Fascists - this is not in any way an endorsement of fascism #like they also killed over 88 million of their fellow imperial citizens by flinging them against the enemy -- Stalingrad style #you should not be under any illusions that these are nice people who should be emulated. THEY ARE NOT.#these are people who can only be considered “good” within the context of their incredibly fucked up universe.#& even in that context they are deliberately meant to be controversial by invoking some of the worst crimes ever and dialing it up further #I should not have to write any of that disclaimer but the reading comprehension on this fucking website these days practically compels me #astra militarum #imperial guard #fanon #my OC stuff #my OCs #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #wh40k

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saturngalore · 3 months

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afrofuturism🪐

☆ one ~ solange hair by darknightt (tsr warning) ☆ two ~ loretta hair by @simtric ☆ three ~ bahati braids by @sheabuttyr ☆ four ~ isonoe hair by octetsica ☆ five ~ binah braids by @sheabuttyr ☆ six ~ cornrows & curls hair by @leeleesims1 ☆ seven ~ indie hair by @sashima ☆ eight ~ loc petals by @shespeakssimlish ☆ nine ~ mnemosyne hair by octetsica ☆

mini dedication essay to black simmers and ts4 creators below! pls read if you have the chance! <3

this edit is a small homage to afrofuturism and the various unique black hairstyles (and especially the black creators of most of these hairs) that i have downloaded and admired over the years! some of these are old and some of these are new.

to me, afrofuturism means constantly honoring/reclaiming/challenging the past while constantly creating/dreaming of a better society/world/future. a society/world/future that embraces and empowers all of our differences, ingenuity, aspirations, and unique lived/cultural experiences. a society/world/future that does not limit us through the various systems of marginalization and oppression (racism, homophobia, transphobia, fatphobia, sexism, xenophobia, ableism, classism, colorism, etc.) that often affects how we, as black people, live today.

blackness is so diverse and intricate yet it's always been a struggle to find my culture within a game that's known for being so limiting, bland, and extremely eurocentric when it comes to hairstyles, clothing, food traditions/events, etc. black simmers have always had to figure out how to make this game more inclusive and make it resemble either more like how our ancestors lived, how our current lives are, or how we would want our lives (and even our children's lives) to look like in the future no matter how dystopian the real world look and feel now. fortunately, these hairs and their uniqueness bring a huge sense of culture and style to this game. they have always inspired me and made me feel extremely proud to a part of the lovely african diaspora (and the ever-growing black simmer community).

in a way, being a black simmer and cc creator usually means that we are often digitally creating our own worlds as afrofuturists to varying degrees (whether we know it or not) every time we open our game, make our sims, make houses, and/or make black cultural cc. also, now i know that cc making is not easy to do and is extremely time-consuming so this post is also just me giving all black cc creators especially those who create for free their well-deserved flowers! here are some other black cc creators who created cc that have greatly impacted my game since i first started playing sims 4: @/leeleesims1 @/simtric @/hi-land @/yuyulie @/sims4bradshaw @/ebonixsims @/xmiramira @/sheabuttyr @/qwertysims @/oplerims @/sleepingsims @/shespeakssimlish and so many more im forgetting probably (im too shy rn to tag ppl but i greatly appreciate y’all fr i hope y’all telepathically get this message somehow 😭).

last but not least, i am hoping that this inspires somebody to keep creating or start creating regardless of what they think their skill level is! somebody will absolutely fall in love with your work and/or your art/work will 100% change someone's game forever <333

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my-lover · 5 months

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i think the whole "god doesn't limp" / "i was afraid your wings would melt" dichotomy is absolutely insane, because house is so adamant that he IS stuck being human. he knows that he is not immortal or better than anybody, no matter what his actions would lead the majority to believe. he's convinced that he is no better than anybody, because he has such a deep physical flaw. and i think as someone who's also chronically ill (+ a cane user), it really does set you apart from everybody else in your own head - and to everybody else. there is no possible way that he can be the best he can be, this idea of godhood that he has for himself, because he is marred by this perceived flaw

and then you have wilson who sees house as this shining icarus with wings made of gold, soaring above the sea. and he knows that perhaps house's infatuation with his own talent and ingenuity may lead him to his doom (read: his wings melting). but i think house does not see himself as icarus at all: there is no possible way for his wings to melt, because he does not believe he has them. he is in no way "above" everybody else through these supposed wings, he is no god. if anything, he is automatically below everyone else, because he limps, he's flawed, he's in some way an imperfect creation

but wilson ? wilson thinks so highly of house, wilson loves house so much that he cannot comprehend the idea of house as somehow "lesser", because of his leg. and i think, as a disabled person, it's absolutely remarkable to have someone see you that way. and the way this is constantly portrayed across their relationship makes me absolutely frothing-at-the-mouth insane

#god i love them #gregory house #james wilson #hilson #house md #hilson meta #house md meta #evan says things

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lurkingshan · 6 months

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Japanese BL Starter Pack

It’s been awhile since I dropped a rec list, so I am here today to share one that is very near and dear to my heart—a Japanese bl primer for those who are new to the jbl game. I created this for @neuroticbookworm to help her on her journey when she decided she wanted to start getting into Japanese works. The fandom (on Tumblr and generally) tends to focus primarily on Thai shows because they are the easiest to access for international fans, since Thailand is working its way toward world domination via ql media and wants us all to be able to watch. But there is a lot of great stuff to watch beyond the easy access Thai channels, and Japan is the country where this genre originated, so its shows are important for anyone who considers themselves a bl fan. Japan doesn’t cater nearly as much to the international audience so tracking down the shows sometimes takes some ingenuity and can-do spirit, but that’s part of the fun!

And so, the list! Bookworm is about halfway through it and having a ball, so I figured it was time to stop hoarding it and share it with anyone else who would like to dip their toes into jbl and isn’t quite sure where to start. A few notes:

I am not here to teach you about the deep roots of the jbl genre or give you a primer on yaoi manga. I am by no means an expert and there are other places to find that information. Start here with this great post by @nieves-de-sugui and then maybe wander over to @absolutebl to read up more on the evolution of the genre.

This list is by no means an exhaustive accounting of every important Japanese bl ever made; it is simply a nice sampler platter of the cream of the crop among various styles you will find in jbl. Watching through this whole list will not only expose you to some fantastic shows, but also give you a sense of what makes jbl unique and how the country’s style differs from others, and point you toward the types of jbl you’ll like most (they tend to put shows in pretty specific style and tone lanes and once you find the ones you like there are lots more where that came from).

If you’re coming to this post as a jbl lover and you don’t see your favorite here, I promise it’s not because I don’t love it very much; I simply had to make some choices to get this down to a reasonable shortlist. Feel free to leave extra recs for others to find!

I’m putting these in a loose suggested watch order that will take you through the various jbl lanes in a kind of popcorn style, because I always think it’s good to change it up so you don’t get too stuck in one mode, and it works its way up to most of the extremely Japanese stuff (you will know what that means by the time you finish). But do what’s in your heart and change up the order if you want, friends, I am not the boss of you!

Cherry Magic (Crunchyroll or grey)

gif by @liyazaki

I believe everyone on Tumblr is pretty familiar with this one, which is not a coincidence—this is one of the most accessible jbls. Not in terms of actual access to watch it, mind you (we’ve all jumped through shady internet hoops to watch it) but in terms of its content and style. Cherry Magic is a classic workplace romcom with a magical twist, and it is charming af. It’s a great exemplar of Japan’s light and zippy comedy lane for bl—a lane in which, importantly, the romances stay chaste even when the actual plot is about sex, or lack thereof. My friend @waitmyturtles would kill me if I didn’t make sure you know that Cherry Magic also has a lovely follow up film. And bonus: there is now a Thai remake airing so if you watch the original you can get in on the discussion about the different adaptations between countries. This is pretty easy to find these days in all the usual places, but I strongly recommend watching it here.

Old Fashion Cupcake (Viki)

gif by @liyazaki

Moving on to a slightly more mature workplace romcom. Old Fashion Cupcake, another Tumblr favorite, is an age gap boss-subordinate romance, and it’s both very adult and somehow wholesome af at the same time. Sure, there is a lot of carnal desire going on here, but there is also a lot of wooing via fluffy pancakes. It’s a tight five episodes and a fantastic example of what Japan, with its extreme technical precision in writing, directing, editing, pacing, and acting firing on all cylinders, can do in two hours. There’s not an ounce of flab on this thing and you’ll want to watch it over and over again.

Utsukushii Kare (Viki)

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Time to get a little weird! Weird is a key feature of Japanese media, and lots of jbls explore unusual relationship dynamics rooted in complex psychology. This is the first show on the list that will likely feel very Japanese if you’re new around here—my advice is to lean into it and finish the show, even if you get uncomfortable along the way. In Japanese media, discomfort always serves a purpose. This is a high school story with a twisted relationship at its center, and I’m not saying any more than that. Don’t spoil yourself and go watch it! This one also comes with two sequels—one short second season and one movie—that continue from the original story. They are less essential but still excellent.

I Cannot Reach You (Netflix)

gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses

Next up, another high school tale, but with a totally different vibe. This show is kind of a revelation in its willingness to tell a story about overwhelming desire—including sexual desire—with young protagonists. It’s rooted in a classic but often misunderstood trope, friends to lovers, and takes the angst of it seriously, giving us a low stakes story that feels extremely high stakes to our leads. It’s also gorgeous and uses a classic Japanese visual style (bokeh) that you’ll be dying to learn more about.

His (Viki)

gif by @gabrielokun

Time for a break from high school, and we’ll sprinkle in a movie for some added flavor. His is a jbl film featuring a second chance romance between a stoic, introverted man who moves to a remote town to start over, and his ex-boyfriend who follows him there unexpectedly, adorable child in tow. Importantly, this movie does not take place in what we often refer to as the “bl bubble” where homophobia doesn’t exist; the leads’ experiences of being gay men in a homophobic society are hugely important to the plot and themes of the story. It’s a beautiful film and I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve watched it. @bengiyo would surely also like me to tell you that this film follows a brief prequel show called His: I Didn’t Mean to Fall in Love about the characters originally meeting in high school; I do not think it’s really necessary to watch it but completists can start there.

The Pornographer series (Gaga)

By now you should be ready to get into some classic Japanese fucked up psychosexual material, right? Right! The Pornographer series is told in five installments in this order:

The Novelist, a six episode miniseries

Mood Indigo, a six episode prequel series

Spring Life, a 15 minute short

Pornographer: Playback, a two hour film

Spring Life Continued, a 15 minute short

Confused by that distribution model? So say we all; sometimes Japan likes to make us work for it to make sure we really appreciate its many gifts to us. The story across these installments is about a very difficult to love protagonist, what makes him the way he is, and the also-unhinged-but-in-a-different-way man who finally gets through to him. It’s an extremely satisfying love story and one of the best character arcs I have ever seen, full stop. For this one, you’ll want to just pull the word problematic out of your pocket and store it in a drawer; nearly everything that happens in this story is problematic and that’s the point. Lean in! All of these installments except for the film are on Gaga, if you get that far hmu and I will supply you with the final puzzle piece.

Our Dining Table (Gaga)

You could probably use a break after those last two, so it’s time to shift over to a heart-tugging twofer: family trauma mixed with the cutest shit you’ve ever seen. ODT is an example of another classic type of Japanese show: the food drama (you will see the GOAT in this category at the end of this list). In Japanese culture, food is love, and the act of preparing food for your loved ones is a common path to romance. You’ll love this story about an isolated office worker who meets a pair of brothers, learns to cook as a way of connecting with them, and begins to heal from his own trauma as a result. The image above is a scan from the manga, which @troubled-mind curates to make extremely cool comparison sets like this one. Many jbls are faithful adaptations of yaoi manga source material, so it’s good to have a bit of familiarity with them.

Minato’s Laundromat (Gaga)

gif by @liyazaki

Japanese media loves to explore taboo, and often manages to do it in a way that is surprisingly light and chaste. This is an age gap romance between a teenager and his adult neighbor that explores internalized homophobia, emotional repression, and falling in love across seemingly impossible social chasms. It’s also a great example of old school yaoi seme-uke dynamics that still show up across the bl genre. Also, take my advice: end your journey with this one with the first season and just pretend season 2 doesn’t exist.

Eternal Yesterday (Viki)

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Remember what I said about weird? Time to do that again, but with a heaping dose of grief and pain on top. It’s not a spoiler to tell you this show involves a major character death; a major character death is, in fact, the root of the entire story. This is a magic realist tale of first love turned tragic, and it will hurt and heal you. It is one of my favorite dramas of all time.

Restart After Come Back Home (Gaga)

And now for a break for your poor exhausted brain. This film is basically the jbl version of a Hallmark original movie, about a city boy who goes back home to the country and falls in love with a total sweetheart while working together on a farm. Enjoy it, bestie, you’ve earned it!

Tokyo in April Is… (Gaga)

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

You’ve probably noticed by now that emotional repression and failed communication are big themes in Japanese works. This second chance romance has plenty of both, and it’s a great example of a kind of muted emotional style that Japan does so well, where the surface of the story seems almost placid and calm even as deep emotion roils underneath. This one (and Eternal Yesterday above) are part of a special line up of jbls on Japanese channel MBS called Tonku (Drama) Shower. The shows air one after another in the same time slot on Fridays (in Japan, perhaps Thursdays for you depending on where you live) and you truly never know what you’re gonna get, but they’re all interesting. Warnings on this one for sexual assault and trauma.

The End of the World With You (Viki)

Time for sexy and weird again, but even more so! This has to be one of the most unique bls ever made; it goes to some truly divine and strange places, and it feels incredibly queer while doing it. Made by the same screenwriter/director of the Pornographer series with a lot of the same sensibilities, but in a more heightened apocalyptic setting. This one has existential angst, a road trip, a redemption tale, and a variety of interesting side characters in the mix.

What Did You Eat Yesterday? (Gaga)

gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses

Congratulations, you’ve reached the end of the list and your reward is watching one of the best bls of all time, and a perfect slice of life food drama to boot. WDYEY now has two seasons (along with a couple specials and a movie that fall in between) because the universe clearly loves us. You can now get it on Gaga for easy access but I’m partial to the versions over at @kinounaniresource for better subs. Wherever you watch, settle in to get cozy with Shiro and Kenji and make sure to always eat before you hit play.

#shan recommends #cherry magic #old fashion cupcake #utsukushii kare #eternal yesterday #our dining table #minato’s laundromat #what did you eat yesterday?#tokyo in april is...#his the movie #the pornographer #japanese bl #jbl starter pack

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two-white-butterflies · 4 months

Text

house of the dragons masterlist

Daemon Targaryen

We Raise Our Cups to Them - Daemon gifts you a necklace.

The Last Dragon - You thought that you were the last dragon. That was until you met him.

You Taste Like Wine - The story of how Daemon gained his thorns. (Tyrell!Reader) ➺ pt.2

A Little Life - Short drabble on Daemon and your son.

Wanton Desires - Daemon speaks to his wife while you give him head.

Orange and Tangerines - You and Daemon visit a brothel.

Ingenue - Daemon falls in love with a wolf. ➺ part two. (Stark!Reader)

in the land of gods and monsters - You were the Queen, but you loved the prince. (Tyrell!Reader)

A Heaven I Can’t Reach - You were left by the Rogue Prince. You find out that you are pregnant, and he returns.

The Prince of Flea-Bottom - (Hightower!Reader)

Ghost of You - Your soul consumes Daemon with avarice.

Fuck the Rich. Fucks the Rich. - Threesome with Harwin.

Maroon - It is the night of your wedding, and instead of making love. You both decide on playing chess.

Anti-Hero - You are the first-daughter of Viserys and Aemma, as she realizes what war is about to begin. She marries her uncle.

Midnight Rain - You used to be Daemon Targaryen’s fiancee, until he is forced to marry Laena Velaryon. You fall in love with Aemond. years later, Daemon returns.

Labyrinth - The reader is the daughter of Viserys and Alicent. Daemon almost gets the entire court high with weed brownies. The reader spreads a malicious rumor about Daemon.

Poison From the Same Vine - (Hightower!Reader)

Bigger than the Whole Sky - You become a glorified hostage for the Blacks. Your husband refuses to show his love. (Hightower!Reader)

The Smallest Coffins are the Heaviest - Daemon comforts you after a miscarriage.

Arms Length - Daemon swears to corrupt you. ➺ part two ➺ part three

Mob Wife - mafia au

White Sword - angst with smut.

The Sun Rises from the West - angst poc!reader

i’m a m*therfucking starboy - you meet the infamous prince of dragonstone. [enemies to lovers trope]

fence - he’s your dad’s best friend.

therese ➺milk matches her underwear ➺horses, cars and cowboys do - in where, your private life becomes public. [secret relationship trope]

two white butterflies ➺ how to disappear ➺ miss american pie - daemon begins dating a singer who hates the spotlight.

i shouldn’t cry - prince daemon in love with a rich girl.

false god - you are forced to choose between family and ambition.

Fresh Out The Slammer - daemon targaryen always found himself running to you after his failed marriages.

good riddance - daemon is forced to choose between love and duty.

Viserys I and Aemond Targaryen

His Real Ambition - being a matriarch to a family was has hard, watching the love of your life marry someone else is harder.

in the land of gods and monsters - You were the Queen, but you loved the prince. (Tyrell!Reader)

Midnight Rain - You used to be Daemon Targaryen’s fiancee, until he is forced to marry Laena Velaryon. You fall in love with Aemond. years later, Daemon returns.

The Alcott - You are Rhaenyra’s oldest daughter. You meet your uncle in Winterfell, and you heart feels like jumping off your chest.

Peaches - your stepson’s swimming instructor can’t stop staring at your ass. introducing, jealous aemond. | mafia au

Let the light in - you fall for your father’s right hand man | mafia au

This is me trying - a late night phone call after your team falls short on the podium. aemond comforts you, and provides you some comforting. some phone loving.

Fucking in my BMW Sedan - exactly what the title states.

I want your heart - vampire aemond

the winner takes it all - you are engaged to another. (angst)

my way, back home - aemond wants to have a big family.

A Man Who Knows - (angst)

Hands of Gold - Aemond meets an older woman. (smut)

Thranduil as Aemond's Dad - (headcanon)

Aemond Reacting to You Wanting to Break Up with him - (headcanon)

you’re losing me - after a gruesome breakup with jace - his billionaire uncle offers you a proposal that you can’t resist. [fake dating trope]

illicit affairs - it was forbidden to date a man like him. but still, you choose to fall. [cheating trope]

cats and dogs - you meet him in the animal shelter.

emma falls in love - fake dating trope for taylor swift tickets.

Rhaenyra, Helaena and Aegon Targaryen

me and the devil - rhaenyra targaryen seduces otto hightower.

exotic flower - rhaenyra garden date.

don’t you - you meet your ex-girlfriend in a party while wrapped around the arm of your brand new fling. a fight begins. messy sex.

Wanting Was Enough - Aegon falls for his father's caretaker.

extended masterlist

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x oc #house of the dragon #daemon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #daemon targaryen fanfic

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onlyswan · 1 year

Text

summary: in which jungkook is too lazy to shower and you’re too weak to resist each other.

> est. relationship, fluff, v brief smut bc aftercare, some angst / wc: 4.7k

> warnings: subby!jk, implied edg♡ng and or♡l (and mention of f. receiving), brief h♡ndj♡b, c♡m eat♡ng, oc lowkey possessive oop, jungkook cries bc he is so full of love then i cried too </3 oc washes jk in the bathtub <3

> in which masterlist!

note: oc is stepping up what else can i say 🤷 and yea it’s jk at the ck event for the second part <3 this is… the sexiest time u’ll get from me i just felt the need to establish exactly how jk is smitten for oc. like i need u to understand!!!! before the next drabble bcoz 🥲 as alwaysss i love hearing your thoughts thru comments/reblog/asks !! <3

—

jungkook’s rhythmic knocking prompts you to blindly fumble for the handle with a slippery hand, sliding the glass door open to get rid of the barrier separating the two of you.

“what?” you mumble, eyes squeezed shut as you spread the shampoo in your hair.

your boyfriend gingerly wipes away the bubbles posing threat to your vision, allowing you to finally open your eyes and bask in his breathtaking beauty this fine morning. he stands by the door wearing only his black boxers, untamed hair and starry eyes softening the edges of your sharp temper. you will never not hate waking up early.

his voice is muffled by the pink toothbrush hanging from his lips as he beseeches you, deliberately using the charm of his pleading doe eyes.

“will you wash me, too…? i’m so tired, baby. i barely slept.”

“okay, babe.” you let out a sigh as you turn on the shower again. “but don’t get frisky. i can’t be late for work again.”

your approval makes his face light up as bright as a clear, sunny sky. why is he acting as if this is the very first time he will be standing underneath the shower with you? you fail to keep an endeared smile at bay.

“wait for me, okay?! i’ll just feed song and ppaeng real fast.”

he carefully closes the glass door, and then you hear it — his heavy feet stomping on the floor as he runs out of the bathroom as if he’s being chased by the hands of the clocks in the apartment.

“so annoying.” you snicker humorously, burying your face in your hands as you allow the water to wash away the thick foam from your hair.

—

“so annoying!” you exclaim as you turn off the shower for the final time, wholeheartedly meaning it this time around. you even took your time washing the conditioner off your hair and cleaning your body, but your patience has thinned and disintegrated into dust.

you reach for your towel, and in that moment, jungkook finally barges in the room.

“you’re finished?!”

your piercing glare meets his ingenuous doe eyes, and he winces guiltily.

“i got distracted with chores. sorry.” he bravely takes several steps closer, stealing a quick peck from your lips. “but i packed up your lunch so you’re ready to go.”

as of recent, your boyfriend has added cooking your lunch to his daily routine so you can spend your midday break at the park instead of a busy and stuffy restaurant. and although you’re dreading the exhausting day that awaits once you step foot outside the house, your heart melts when you think about the hour reserved for you to savor the food he cooked with love from his heart. it’s so easy to feel isolated in this world, but if you think about how the food that you eat requires effort and care to be made beyond fuel to live, doesn’t it make you feel a little lucky to be here?

“i guess i have some time to wash your hair.”

“i’ll take it!” he almost cuts you off, jumping at the offer before another precious millisecond is wasted.

you chuckle at his ardent display of eagerness. “will you fetch my robe then?”

—

jungkook comfortably settles in the far left of the drop-in bathtub where the showerhead is attached to the wall. meanwhile, you’re by his side facing him, sitting on the second step of the low white chair stool you both agreed to buy specifically for this type of situation.

with the heel of his palm, he wipes away the lone tear that trickles down his cheek as he lets go of another irrepressible yawn. he thought that the iced americano he was leisurely drinking in the kitchen already woke him up, yet here he is being lulled to sleep once more.

it was wrong of him to expect you to simply drizzle products on his hair and wash them off in a hurry. so wrong. you refuse to live your life halfheartedly, and that bleeds into your daily actions, he realizes.

you didn’t forget to comb his hair, untangling the knots painstakingly, before instructing him to sit under the shower. and once you were finished with generously applying the shampoo to cover his head, your artful fingers weave into his long hair to massage his scalp in small, circular movements. it’s not much, but you’re hoping that even with only five minutes of this small gesture, you can bring him some sort of comfort after having a bad night’s sleep.

“ah- this feels so nice. you’re healing me.” he sighs in relief, instinctively leaning into your affectionate touches.

you swoop in to plant a quick kiss on his lips before you take a peek at his phone. he has been diligently protecting it from the water, along with his hands.

“so, you’re buying a new polaroid camera?”

he nods, round eyes anchored in the screen as he reviews the product description displayed. “i couldn’t sleep so i started checking them out last night. i don’t really know what i’m looking for this time… i just want it to be black.”

“what made you think of it so suddenly?” you curiously inquire, ignoring the growing soreness in your arms as your fingers travel their way down to the lower half of his hair, consistent with the light pressure to release his tension.

“i want to do that thing.”

“what thing?”

“you know… tha-that thing, putting a photo of your favorite person on the back of your phone.” he stutters, lips curving into a sheepish smile. “you do it, too. sometimes.”

you snort, cracking up in laughter as you’re reminded of a running gag in your relationship. every time they have a new album release, he goes out of his way to ask for his photocards so he can jokingly present them to you as gifts since he’s your ‘favorite idol’. you do own quite a lot of phone cases, including a transparent that you use every and now then. the last one you put in the back of it was a random from his photofolio, the one in which he was doing a kissy face. how many people out there can say that their boyfriend was a vampire once?

“don’t laugh!” he whines grumpily. “you need to pose for them cutely, okay?”

“i’ll dress myself up prettier so you’ll look at me longer than the screen.”

a brand new camera always means having jungkook follow you around like a lost puppy, devoted to learning how to use it as an expert photographer and filmographer.

“but you better be sure not to burn my eyes with the flash again.”

it’s an honest mistake he’s done one too many times, even with his phone.

he scrunches his nose in shame, cackling. “it will never happen again. never. i really, really, really mean it this time.”

“sure, i should trust you.” you grimace, picking up the scalp brush on your lap before standing up to grab the shower head. “put your phone away now.”

swift to obey, he stands up to cross the distance between him and the highest floating shelf where you store the essential oils and small towels, leaving the device in between them for meantime. when he returns to his previous position, you begin rinsing his hair.

“wait- you hold this instead.” you hand him the shower, which he accepts unwittingly, moving it back and forth so he’s covering the entire area.

while he does that, you use his purple brush to be certain that the chemicals will be removed and washed away from his scalp, gentle fingers combing portions of his silky hair aside to reach every spot.

he cheesily smiles to himself under the stream of refreshingly cold water. as someone who goes out like a light when his hair is played with, jungkook is living his best life.

until he’s not.

“shit, shit, shit- i have to get dressed up.” you panic as your phone in the bedroom wildly blares the alarm sound that serves as your final warning. “oh well, i’m done anyway.”

abandoning the brush on the edge of the tub, you regain possession of the shower and run your fingers through his hair one last time for good measure, turning it off straight after.

“drive safe today. i love you. i love you. i love you.” you cage his wet face in your hands to kiss him repeatedly, tasting the coffee on his lips.

jungkook is left alone in the bathroom as you get yourself ready for work.

he side-eyes the bottle of conditioner with disgust. “guess it’s just you and me now.”

—

“i really need to shower but i don’t want to… aish, i wish i had someone to help me.” jungkook sighs dramatically as he rubs his stinging eyes. he expectantly looks over at your figure lying on the sofa, stroking your bare shins propped up by his thighs.

but you pretend that you don’t hear a single word he says, too engrossed in the anime ‘cells at work’ playing on the television to spare your boyfriend a glance. a sad frown appears on his face. he’s yearning for you after long hours of being apart.

he drops down to rest his weary body over yours, hugging your hips and face nuzzling the side of your chest. this impels you to wrap an arm around him, his half ponytail caught between your middle and ring fingers, but your hand remains idle on the back of his head.

he pitifully sobs as he whines, squeezing you tightly. “why am i like this? i don’t want to do anything… i’m too lazy… it’s seriously getting annoying now. what do i doooo?”

his speech is slightly slurred because his cheek is squished against your side. you can feel his warm breath fanning your skin, and your tickled laughter mixes in with the laughter brought by a funny scene. a minute later, the outro rolls in, which is your cue to wiggle out of his snuggling.

with his elbow anchored in the couch, jungkook watches you with disappointment swimming in his eyes as you pause the next episode and begin walking away.

“where are you going?”

you stop on your tracks, turning a little to the side to innocently flutter your lashes. “taking a shower so i can go to bed.”

your answer lights the fuse inside of jungkook, to put it lightly. still dressed in the all-black outfit he wore to an event today, minus the button-up and the stompers, he staggers on his feet. he hastily pulls out the hem of his t-shirt from being neatly tucked into his pants before bringing it over his head. he throws it aside without care, and there he stands with a sparkling silver chain dangling over his bare chest, looking like a walking daydream.

your droopy eyes widen as you’re taken aback by the rather alluring view. it seems that neither of you is making this game easy. “excuse me, mister? what are you doing?”

“well, what does it look like?” he shoots you a smirk, bangs falling over his eyes when he looks down to unbuckle his belt with practiced ease.

and you think that if you just play your cards right, he might wear them around your wrists next. oh no- no, no, no. the only restraint you should be thinking of right now is self-restraint, damn it.

“no, you’re not.”

“yes, i am.”

“no-”

“yes.”

your heart violently races when he begins wrapping the belt around his large palm, raising an eyebrow at you. but still, you stand your ground with a sweet, sarcastic smile.

“you’re not a baby. you’re 27 years old. i’m pretty sure you can shower on your own by now.”

and with that, you sprint to the bathroom before your hot boyfriend can strip off his pants, because you know it would be impossible to resist his charms then.

jungkook collapses on the couch, eyes turning into little crescent moons as uncontrollable giggles rack his body. at last, it dawns on him why you’ve been acting a certain way.

he may or may not have unintentionally snapped at his mother over the phone last night, rudely spitting out the two sentences you just used against him. despite witnessing him call and apologize not long after, you still have your own playful way of scolding him, it seems.

“what a brat.” he snorts as he chucks the belt on the table, having a feeling he will have another use for it later.

he sets his hair free from the ponytail and wears the hair tie around his wrist, running his fingers through the locks to tame the unruly mess. he shakes his head as another airy laugh is invoked from him by sheer amusement, tongue poking the inside of his cheek before he huffs.

“____ is really setting me straight like this…? ah, i’m angry!”

since he’s already half-naked anyway, he decides to remove his accessories, too. he starts with the silver bracelet around each of his wrists, tilting his head to the side as he reads the subtitle of the frozen frame on the television screen.

In the human body, there are roughly 37.2 trillion cells…

“i think i met the right person.” he nods to himself.

—

the air around him is sweltering and he doesn’t know how to breathe anymore.

“ohh fuck, fuck! i’m so— i’m so close, if you d-don’t stop-” jungkook cries out in desperation, losing any semblance of control he has over his body as he writhes on the mattress. “please, please… it feels too good, please. i’ve been behaving.”

“hm, go on, my love. want to taste you.”

your merciless hand pumps his length and your sinful lips scatter sloppy kisses along the tense muscles of his thighs. lewd, unrestrained moans escape his cerise lips as sparks of electricity burn beneath his eyelids, hips frantically rutting forward to chase his high. driven by lust in his dazed state, he holds himself up by his elbows to watch you reward his tip with languid licks of your tongue, sultry eyes staring back at him, and his head tips back into the pillows as he completely falls apart.

he lies absolutely boneless in the aftermath, mind and body floating in the abyss as he attempts to get back in touch with reality and recall his godforsaken name. his white-knuckled fist’s grip loosens, allowing his slender fingers to slip away from your hair when you remove yourself from between his legs. he covers his eyes with his tattooed arm as his chest heaves, catching his breath.

but then he is pulled out from the darkness by the sound of your giggles, bubbly and achingly familiar, coaxing his damp eyelashes to part from his flushed cheeks. with a blurry vision, he watches you scoop up some of the come that landed all over his chiseled abdomen. you push your middle and ring fingers past your lips, evidently debauched and delighted as you hum. your glasses hang loosely over your nosebridge, and he’s clueless how it managed to be clean while staying on your face.

all over again, the filthy scene pricks his skin with desire and coils the heat in his stomach… it looks reminiscent of your first kiss. but after being edged for what felt like an eternity, he’s afraid of what would become of him if he feels another ounce of pleasure.

“baby, you’re so fucking mean.” he croaks out, voice low and hoarse from choked sobs and begs. it cracks, sounding as though he doesn’t even have a voice left.

you’re more straightforward when you crave to be touched, whimpering a simple ‘i need you’ or ‘please take care of me’ with a pleading face as you play with his fingers. however, on the rare occasion that you get into a very… particular mood… you sigh and say ‘i’m bored’ before looking at him with faux innocence in your blown-out pupils… and because you’re just too damn enticing to resist, he ends up in this position — completely exposed while you’re cozily dressed in a t-shirt over your slip-on night dress, the one he was wearing before.

consequently, it has been making his life difficult. he instantly becomes turned on when you utter the commonly used words, even when there’s obviously no other meaning behind them. like when you’re in public. especially when you’re in public. he can foresee this moment flashing in his mind when he finds himself in the same predicament again. at this point, all he can say is heavens help him, he is so fucked. the angel they sent is well-versed in driving him wild.

“i love you.” he follows up, and your smile grows when you meet his hazy eyes.

“i love you more.” you reply in a sing-song voice, also raspy after having him down your throat. you bend down to plant a featherlight kiss on his pelvis, but he wants it somewhere else.

with his remaining shred of strength, he tugs at your arm to pull you in for a hungry kiss, his hand cupping your nape and his thumb rubbing your cheek. your tongue ghosts over the metal ring piercing his bottom lip, and he shakily breathes out a quiet moan.

you’re the first one to break away, pampering his lips with chaste pecks as you mumble, “my boyfriend is so pretty. mine. mine. mine. love you better than anyone could.”

jungkook’s heart does somersaults, the butterflies inside of him multiplying by the thousands with your every declaration.

you pout as you lovingly brush away the locks of hair sticking to his honey skin, glistening with sweat. “oh? are these sweat or tears? you cried again this time?”

with watering eyes, he can’t help but to dumbly stare at your glossy and swollen lips as you coo.

“but you took it so, so well. you were so perfect, baby boy. thank you.”

“don’t act so innocent.” he mutters, tattooed arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer, longing for your weight on top of his. “you know what you did.”

you chuckle as you drag the blanket over his body, concerned he might freeze from the blasted airconditioner now that the ecstasy is ebbing away. “but it felt good, right? did i do anything you didn’t like?”

he gets a sinking feeling when you look at him, asking for confirmation as if you didn’t reduce him into this incoherent puddle of beyond satiated appetite. holy shit, he’s the luckiest man on earth.

“mhm-mhm. more than good… always. you’re too good to be true.”

he sighs in contentment when you offer your arm as his pillow, embracing him tightly. his eyelids flutter shut as he feels the soreness of his muscles taking reign. oddly enough, he doesn’t mind the pain at all. he revels in it, almost. gradually, his heartbeat returns at its normal rate.

he doesn’t flinch when he feels a metal straw nudging his lips, instead he sips heartily to soothe his throat. you have pink hearts for irises as you adore his face, falling in love with your lover all over again.

“i love you. you’re so cute.” you giggle, tucking his hair behind his ears as you hold the water tumbler for him. “you’re so red- especially your ears- it’s so cute.”

this makes him smile sheepishly, bunny teeth biting the straw. he pops it out of his mouth to bury his face in the crook of your neck, laughing breathily.

“well if you point it out, i’ll turn redder!”

“is that so bad? then you’ll be cuter.” you squeeze his cheeks together to tilt his head towards you. “come on. how do you feel…? maybe a bit better? let’s get cleaned up so you can rest.”

he frowns. “i want to taste you, too.”

want to get his payback, more like.

“later, my lov-”

he doesn’t waste time in ducking down, hooking a finger around the waistband of your underwear while he sucks a bruise on your inner thigh.

“jungkook!” you giggle, dragging him off you by his hair. “no! stop! i just wanted to play and make you feel good.”

he refuses to relent, stubborn in his defiance, chasing and chasing until his puckered lips touch your soft skin again, peppering sweet kisses. pulling his hair only spurs him on, it looks like, so you end up using both hands to guide his face inches from yours.

“your busy bee needs to go back to work.” you give his pout an apologetic kiss, knowing full well that you’ll be in bed for much, much longer if you indulge him.

you still need to finish the due project you abandoned in your laptop because you would rather do this. or him? for a lack of better term.

“you can do it however long you want if you wait.”

he beams upon hearing your saccharine promise, eagerly nodding in agreement. and with a naughty smile, he pushes his luck. “then will you wash me now?”

and when you take more than three seconds to answer, he rushes to defend himself with- “i deserve it this time!”

—

jungkook is still and silent as he sits across you in the bathtub, extremely drowsy after you gave him another one of your soothing scalp massages when you washed his hair. the scented candle melting over the sink mixes with the drops of lavender oil you added into the water, and not far from it is his phone playing mellow music.

however, that changes when he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“you’re too gentle. are you sure i’m being cleaned?”

an irritated expression is drawn on your face as you grab his wrist, forcefully making him hold the soapy wash cloth you just started using. “then you do it yourself so i can focus on me instead.”

“i’m kidding, i’m kidding!” he winces when you make a move to stand up. he reflexively seizes your arm to stop you, lisp discernible as he grumbles. “babe, i can’t do it. i have no energy left and it’s your fault!”

you roll your eyes, reclaiming the cloth from his hand. you add a little more pressure to address his concern as you move on to lathering his tattooed arm, a coat of small bubbles decorating the diverse colors of ink covering his skin. you make a game out of neatly smoothing down his body hair.

“you know you have sensitive skin but you’re too rough when you do it. what’s the point of using a mild body wash?”

his brain fails to process your scolding, still weak and fuzzy like cotton, overcome by fragmented thoughts. the beckoning sound of your voice. the intoxicating scent of your newest perfume, strawberry clinging to your skin until now. your cleverness paired with seduction equals his blissful doom. your tenderness while you were making him cry. after making him cry. even when he’s not crying at all.

“____,”

your eyes flicker up to him in confusion. why is that you feel a little more real when he says your name?

“what?” you squeak out.

“you’re so beautiful.” he thinks out loud, ‘lovestruck’ written all over his softened features. “i wish there’s a better word for it. ehh, uhh, there probably is but…”

his forehead creases as he exerts mental power to flip through his dictionary, eyeballs pointing in different directions as if he will read the word somewhere on the walls.

“but i can’t think of one right now… my brain isn’t working.”

the compliment told dreamily makes your fragile heart beat louder inside your ribcage. concealing a flattered smile, you shake your head in disbelief.

“you think changing the topic like this will work?”

the water sloshes around as you inch closer, running the cloth over his shoulders and across his collarbones.

“i mean it.” he replies firmly, hands sneaking in to caress the sides of your waist, fingertips grazing your skin to trace amorphous drawings. “i didn’t always get the chance to look at you… like take my time and, really look at you. i hate that.”

you reach for the tallest bottle on the corner of the bathtub. as you spritz more body wash on the cloth, you give him a fleeting glance. “you’re doing it right now. that’s what matters.”

“i am.” he nods timidly.

his vision is fixated where your gentle scrubbing travels down to his chest. he sharply inhales, and exhales, choosing to pour every ounce of his attention on you. his tattooed hand slides up your body, gliding across your skin until he reaches your face. and as if he’s doubtful that you’re truly tangible and not a figment of his imagination, the back of his fingers tentatively brushes your cheek.

it rises under his touch as you sneakily steal glances of him getting lost in a trance. with droplets of water dripping from his wet hair, he blinks sleepily. his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows the lump in his throat, suppressing the new wave of salty tears threatening to leak from his eyes.

he doesn’t want to roam the roads of the past too much but — years after he broke your heart, has he become a man worthy of soaking in a bathtub with you? it’s an honor. it’s a joy. everything is clear. you’re not here to fill in a gap but to consume space. his body is permanently stained by the colors of your soul. he is loved.

considering that he still looks gorgeously wrecked from earlier, you only take it as a sign that he’s still not entirely present in this sphere. you want to give him more water, but neither of you feels the need to speak. wave to earth’s ‘evening glow’ is more than enough to fill the evening’s restful silence.

as he painfully yearns to do so, he takes his time, and you spread the body wash on the curves of his waist slower than you normally would.

his calloused thumb traces your jaw, and your breath hitches when he pauses at your bottom lip. he applies just enough pressure to memorize the softness of the flesh under his touch, slightly separating it from your upper lip. he fails to take notice of his own lips unconsciously mirroring yours. and he swears on his life, all the clocks in the world have stopped ticking to let him live in this moment forever.

on the other hand, you also fail to shut out your own impulses. your lips pucker to kiss the pad of his thumb with a smooching sound. he breaks out into a toothy grin, the long dimples running down his lower cheeks popping out.

he delicately holds your face steady in one hand, pointer finger digging in one cheek and his thumb on the other, before he draws in to grant you a proper kiss. his nose bumps against yours when it breaks.

“need to sit on your lap so i can reach your back.”

“i’m all yours.” he whispers while he guides you into position, softly squeezing at your hips.

with you straddling him, he can embrace you as he likes, his chest pressed against yours. he happily tucks his chin over the shoulder of your unbusy arm, and he’s on top of the world. he hums and sings along to johnny stimson’s ‘honeymoon’, harmoniously swaying in the limited space as you knead his back. he is undoubtedly, thoroughly drunk. the 80- to 90-proof bottles of whiskey gathered in the kitchen cabinet got nothing on you.

he sniffles quietly, using his wrist to pat his tear-stained eyes and cheeks dry. he plants a small kiss on the soft flesh under your ear before succumbing to the heaviness weighing on his eyelids.

jungkook’s adorable snoring contests with his phone’s high-quality speakers. almost, almost too identical to the sound of the candle wick burning.

“oh, for fuck’s sake.” you curse under your breath, splashing water on the expanse of your boyfriend’s back to wash away the bubbles.

“…it’s 9pm. did i seriously tire him out that much?”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

2K notes · View notes

joshym · 2 months

Text

Muse

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary: Your struggling artist is desperate for some inspiration.

Word Count: 3.4k+

Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY), unprotected p in v, oral (f! receiving), a smidge of sir kink, some spanking, a lot of fluff because i can't help myself, Jake draws a naked portrait of you (let me know if i've missed anything)

a/n: special thanks to this lovely anon for this brilliant idea. this was way too much fun to write.

this was inspired heavily by that scene from the Titanic. (you know the one.)

as always, thank you to my favorite editor/motivator, @jakeyt.

i hope you enjoy. ♡

“I want you to draw me wearing this.” You reach into the lapel of the robe, retrieving his coin that now hangs from your neck. “Only this.”

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

His frustration is palpable, evident in the nearly incessant huffing emanating from behind the closed door of his studio.

It's moments like these that leave you feeling utterly helpless. There’s nothing you can do, no inspiration you can provide that will pull him from his artist’s block.

He's been holed up in there for hours, since the early dawn, lost in the depths of his imagination, sketching away. You know better than to intrude; he's never been keen on sharing his work until it's finished.

In fact, he's never once allowed you a glimpse into his creative process. "It's the strange doodlings of a mind overrun with ideas. It's not to be seen until it's in its final form," he's reminded you countless times when your curiosity gets the better of you.

Still yet, you're consumed by the desire to witness his beautiful mind in action, crafting masterpieces in real-time, each stroke flowing from his soul through his tireless hand on his Somerset velvet sheets.

But, like any artist, he’s his own worst critic. He’s never truly satisfied with anything he creates, though you are left utterly speechless after each piece he finishes. His mind is a beautifully profound chasm of endless wonder, manifested through his artistry.

You hate when he has these moments of doubt, these instances when he questions whether he’s truly capable of such greatness.

And you especially despise days like today, when he spends the better part of it feeling as though he has a mental brick wall in the way of his ingenuity, hindering his hand from bringing to life what his mind so desperately longs to conceive.

Commissioned pieces, like his project today, always hold the most weight for him— from the need to earn a living, to his persistent worry that his art might not meet the expectations of the client.

It’s not that he doesn’t love doing them, or that he’ll ever stop taking them; quite the contrary, they’re his favorite pieces to work on. They provide him with an added pressure that elicits some of his best work.

But, reaching that point can be rather strenuous for him. It can at times take days, weeks before he discovers the creative impulsion he needs.

And right now, he’s in that very rut, awaiting the surge of inspiration that will reignite his dulled spirit.

There truly is nothing you can do when he’s lost like this, and any effort you’ve attempted in the past has always proved useless.

The one thing you can do, however, is prepare him some dinner.

He’s hardly left his studio today, and you know he’s not eaten much, if anything at all. Perhaps a morsel of sustenance will ignite the dormant embers of his mind.

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

After a quiet tap to the door, he invites you in with a serene voice.

He looks tired, but lovely as ever. The golden hour has officially set in the sky, and the opened curtains on the windows have allowed for a warm hue to encompass his studio, enveloping him in its delicate lume.

“That smells absolutely divine,” he remarks as you enter his studio, his plate and yours delicately balanced in your hands.

“I figured a little homemade pasta would do you some good,” you tell him while you pad across the floor to his work station.

With a sly disposition and a playful glint in your eye, you aim to steal a glance of his day-long project, but alas, you’ve been caught. Your sweet Jake misses nothing.

"Not yet, my love," he murmurs, flipping the page over as he takes your hand, planting a tender kiss over your knuckles. "You know the rules."

“I know, I know.” Your response holds a bit of remorse. You know better, but can’t begin to help the relentless desire to see his mind at work.

Setting his dinner on the desk he’s working from, you move yourself across the small office to the green chaise lounge that sits across from him, silently seeking his permission with your gentle glances. The smile in his eyes tells you that he’s more than happy to be graced with your company for the time being.

After taking a bite of the spinach tortellini you prepared, he unbuttons his white striped shirt, removing it from his shoulders and stretching his arms high above his head as though he’s ridding himself of the weight of his frustrations.

You can’t help your glare, watching him do something so normal yet so intriguing all at once.

His skin is velvety smooth, his chest rising and falling with every breath he takes, his chestnut wavy locks sitting atop his broad shoulders. You’re in awe each time you look at him; the sheer magnitude of his beauty never fails to steal your breath away.

And his necklace, his most cherished piece of jewelry that he wears each and every day. The precious coin, a relic salvaged from a centuries-old shipwreck that hangs against his chest.

The way it sits on his bare skin is nothing short of elating, sexy. It’s a wonderful addition to his already captivating aura.

He’s flawless. Everything about him.

Once he catches your gaze, he responds with a sly wink, eliciting a blush that paints your cheeks a bright shade of pink.

Then, a thought begins to swirl around your mind for a brief moment. One that you’re shocked you’ve not conjured until now.

The vision of the pendant against his bare skin sets your own imagination alight.

“I’ve got an idea,” you propose, your voice soft and sultry, trying to pique his interest even just a little, something that may help the rusted wheels of his mind turn at full capacity once again.

While his focus remains on his work, his right eyebrow arches ever so slightly, and you catch the hint of a grin daring to curl in the corners of his mouth.

“And what might that be, my dear?” he asks with an unknowing, devilish smirk.

As you get up, he hastily flips the page back over to hide his work from you once again.

“Don’t worry,” you say as you move behind him, placing your hands on his bare shoulders. “I won’t peek.”

You glide your fingers along his skin, feeling the subtle rise of each goosebump in the wake of your gentle touch.

He hums inquisitively as you delicately take hold of the clasp of his necklace in between your index and thumb, undoing it in one fluid motion before slowly slipping it from around his neck.

“Be right back,” you say as you head towards the door. “Don’t move.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he responds, a myriad of questions splayed across his features.

With light steps, you make your way down the wooden floors of the hall towards your shared bedroom. Hanging on the back of the door is your sapphire hued satin robe, adorned with a delicate lace detailing along the hem—the one Jake has always fawned over.

The satin drapes coolly against your skin as you slip it on, wearing nothing underneath, save for the weight of Jake’s necklace resting against your chest that you hide beneath the fabric.

You run your fingers through your hair, adding a subtle tousled look, before applying a light blush to your lips and cheeks to impart a bit of natural color to your complexion.

And with that, you're poised and ready.

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

As you turn the corner to face his studio, you see a very weary version of your Jake. His head sits in the palms of his hands, his leg bounces up and down at a rapid rate—a clear sign of the mental battle he’s waging.

This is as good a time as any for your little idea, and you’re hoping that it’ll be the very thing he needs to find some much needed initiative to keep going.

“Hi, baby,” you venture, leaning your body alluringly against the frame of the door.

As he looks up, a familiar twinkle dances in his eyes—a sight you've longed for all day long. It's a glimmer that tells you he's rather fond of the vision before him.

“And what exactly is your idea?” he inquires softly, slowly standing from his chair. But you stop him, motioning for him to stay just where he is as you saunter towards the chaise you were seated on just moments ago.

“My idea,” you begin, making a very slow, deliberate attempt to untie the sash holding your robe together at the waist. “...is for you to draw me.”

As if your thought has affected him physically, his posture immediately straightens, and his once tired eyes hold a renewed sense of life as they watch you intently.

“I want you to draw me wearing this.” You reach into the lapel of the robe, retrieving his coin that now hangs from your neck. “Only this.”

Your robe suddenly falls to the floor, revealing your fully nude figure that was hidden beneath.

“Oh…” he utters, his tongue wetting his lower lip before tucking it between his teeth. “You can’t do this to me, baby. I can’t look at you like this an–”

“Consider it a commission,” you interrupt, tracing your fingers lightly up and down the skin of your torso. “And when you’re finished, if it’s to my liking, you’ll receive a full payment.”

With a raised eyebrow, his gaze sweeps up and down your form, while his index finger lightly grazes his chin.

“You’re quickly becoming my favorite client,” he quips, wiping a stray bead of sweat away from his forehead, tousling the front of his hair in the process. “Consider it done, ma’am,” he continues with a confirming nod of his head.

You lay yourself down on the forest green velvet cushions, positioning yourself sensually across the chaise. Your body is turned slightly to the side, your leg gracefully crossed over the other, an elegant display of your curved silhouette.

The warm glow that is so beautifully cast upon Jake, is now cast upon you, the aura laying over your nude body like a golden blanket of light.

“Is this okay?” you ask him, draping your arm over the back of the chaise, making sure the coin sits meticulously atop your chest before your other arm falls to rest against your body.

He simply grins while nodding his head, his eyes drinking you in, a mix of surprise and desire evident within his expression.

“Yeah, that um…that’ll do just fine,” he tells you, the slight crack in his voice eliciting a smile from you, a break in his professional facade.

With a deep breath, he takes his prized Faber Castell 9000, carefully sharpening the tip just a bit before putting it against a blank sheet.

And then, as the true artist you know him to be, he begins without a hint of hesitancy. The gentle sound of the lead scratching away at the paper fills the quiet room— a sound you’ve come to cherish, a sound that signifies his craft is steadily blossoming to life.

He seems charmingly nervous, his hand gently brushing against his nose every so often between a series of strokes from his pencil, clearing his throat more than usual. His eyes flint to you, then back to the paper, then back to you, a succession of his adoration and determination, ensuring that the likeness captured in his art closely mirrors your essence.

You try to keep your face composed, a seductive allure about your features. But as you watch him, immersed in his passion, the way he’s studying you so intently, it becomes nearly impossible to suppress the beginnings of a smile upon your lips.

But despite your efforts, he takes note of the curve adorning your flushed lips, mirroring it with his own. “Relax your face for me, beautiful.” The soft rasp in his tone is enough to send a blush throughout your whole body.

Breathing in your nose and exhaling through parted lips, you’re able to reclaim your composure enough to steady your expression.

Every moment you share with him is a brushstroke of beauty, but something about this one stands out. The intimacy of it all, how he must diligently study every inch of your form to convey your image through his art, the intensity behind his focused gaze…your heart is racing in your chest, despite your relaxed demeanor.

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

With the sun almost hidden behind the early moon, he completes the final stroke.

He lays his pencil down, gently blowing on the paper to remove any stray lead before he picks it up, examining it closely while he walks it over to you.

As he holds it out before you, allowing you to at last see his craft come to life, you’re left entirely awestruck.

“Oh, Jake.” The sight before you leaves you nearly breathless. It exceeds every expectation, beyond the boundaries of your imagination. It’s a portrayal of you, but not just that— it’s how he sees you.

It’s the first time you’re witnessing yourself through his eyes, and in that, you feel a profound sense of beauty within yourself that you’ve never known.

“Do you like it?” He asks, a slight tremor present in his voice.

“It’s…incredible, Jake.”

Propping yourself up a bit, you carefully take the drawing from his hands, poring over his vast attention to the detail in your face, your body.

Specifically your breasts, how perfectly he depicted their round curve above your rib cage, encapsulating the fullness and allure of them.

You’re entranced by the way he drew the contour of your hips, how he captured the dip in them that you’ve always looked at with disdain, yet in his portrayal, you’re able to see the beauty in what you’ve considered a flaw.

He encapsulated everything, even the faint freckle beneath the curve of your left breast, and the mole under your belly button. He managed to immortalize all the intricate nuances that you typically overlook.

“Is this what I really look like?”

“Yes, but,” he takes the drawing from you, placing it on the mahogany table beside the chaise lounge. He helps you lay back down, gently caressing your face that he’s just conveyed through his artistry as he props himself above you. “The essence of your beauty defies any depiction.”

Then, his lips envelope yours in a kiss so fervent, so ardent, as though he’s waited hours to finally have you within his grasp.

His hand moves with a swift grace to your breast, fingers toying with your perked bud. This erotic moment with him has you already so flustered, so sensitive to every touch of his hands.

He breaks his lips from yours, only to land them down the column of your heaving chest.

“You’ve no idea how hard it was for me to look at you like this, to look at these,” he mumbles against the tingling skin, hands kneading the flesh of your breasts. “And fight the urge to come place my lips on every inch of this beautiful fucking body.”

And just as he said, he bestows tender yet hungry kisses down the length of your torso, maneuvering his body down the chaise lounge until he kneels before you. He nestles his face perfectly between your thighs, his warm breath tantalizing your wet center from his dangerously close proximity.

“I certainly hope you don’t let all of your clients pay you like this,” you mutter, breathless and yearning for his mouth.

“Only the ones that tickle my fancy,” he says, his words adorned with a playful wink before he delves into you.

He laps away at your pulsing cunt, like he’s been starved for your taste this entire evening. The lewd, lascivious sounds he’s emitting from between your legs only serve to heighten your need for him, causing your back to instinctively arch away from the plush cushions.

And when his lips envelop your throbbing clit, his tongue swirling around it inside his warm mouth, your body trembles and shudders. A rush of warmth encompasses you, starting from the depths of your core, the pit of your stomach, spreading to every inch of your being.

You surrender to the intoxicating bliss, your breath catching in your throat while your heart pounds in a crescendoing rhythm.

He guides you through it, gently holding your hips in place while the movement of his tongue slows in perfect time as with the ebb of your climax.

“Oh, that was so beautiful, my love.” He lovingly kisses the inside of your thigh before he stands, removing the belt from his patchwork jeans. “Turn over for me, baby.”

“Yes, sir,” you quietly utter as you obey his demand, knowing good and damn well what that specific name does to him.

Just as he commanded, you turn your body over to your stomach, placing your elbows against the arm of the chaise, your back arched as much as you can so that your ass is sticking up just right for him.

“Love when my sweet girl calls me that,” he purrs before his belt hits the floor, his jeans and underwear quickly in tow and freeing his impossibly hard cock.

“So, what’s the verdict, my love?” You feel the cushion sink in behind you as he settles himself between your legs, his right hand caressing your hip while the other teases your soaked cunt with the tip of his cock, leaking with precum. “Was my work to your liking?”

You giggle breathlessly, poking your ass out even further as an offering to him for his hard work. “Yes, I believe you’ve earned your reward.”

He steadily begins nudging his cock into you, going slow at first, allowing you to fully adjust to him.

Inch by thick inch, he fills you completely to the hilt, your breath catching in heavy gasps that are robbed from your lungs as he buries himself deeply within you.

Your nails claw at the velvet armrest as his thrusts quicken in their pace, your upper body nearly going limp as you’re no longer able to easily hold yourself up.

His hands hold a firm grip at your lower waist, pulling you into his cock rhythmically, yet becoming more and more disordered as he’s beginning to lose himself to the pleasure.

You cry out a slew of obscenities mixed with his name, begging him to fuck you harder, faster.

Without question he complies, landing an open palm against your ass cheek. “So good for me baby,” he hums, his thighs slapping against the backs of yours as he drives into you just the way you need. “So fucking good for me.”

With one more vigorous thrust of his hips, you feel that familiar rush throughout your whole body as your cunt throbs and pulses incessantly around his cock.

“Fuck, I feel you, baby. Pretty little cunt squeezing me so tight.” You feel the twitching of his cock inside of you, an indication that he's on the very brink of his own release.

“Cum inside me, sir. Please…need you to fill me.” Your voice is faltered, your body still reeling from your second climax.

“Jesus,” he groans, moaning exasperatedly as your words have him spilling within you, filling you with his warmth just as you requested.

He stays buried inside of you as he catches his breath, feeling his release slowly trickling down your thighs as you struggle to fill your own lungs.

You have to fight the urge to protest when he begins pulling himself away from you, not yet ready for the empty feeling he leaves you with.

You practically collapse against the cushion, your body exhausted in the most enthralling way, the kind of exhaustion that only immense amounts of pleasure can bring forth.

“My sweet, beautiful girl,” he whispers, kneeling himself before you as he softly caresses your flushed cheek.

You kiss the pad of his thumb as it crosses over your mouth, summoning the strength to lift yourself up enough to steal one from his lips. “I hope it worked,” you say, gently cupping his face in your hand.

“You hope what worked, my love?” He asks, leaning into your soft touch.

“I was hoping this would help inspire you.” You reach for the drawing, savoring its beauty once more. “I was hoping I could help inspire you, pull you out of your moment of doubt.”

“My love,” he murmurs, setting the portrait back down before he gently brushes his lips against yours. “You inspire me endlessly, every single day.”

His tender smile warms your very soul as he leans in for a deeper kiss, imbued with all the love you could ever want for.

“You’re my perfect muse,” he utters against your lips, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

a/n: suffice to say, this inspired the hell out of me when i've lacked inspiration/motivation lately. thank you, anon.

if you have any juicy ideas, feel free to send them my way. ♡

love you guys.

taglist: (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!)

@jakeyt @objectsinspvce @stayinginthesun @sinarainbows @stardustcordzz @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @highway-tuna @way-to-go-lad @reesetrippingthelight @jakesgrapejuice @sacredjake @notthedroidz @kiszkashousee @psychedelicstardust-gvf @jjwasneverhere @gvf-ficreads @stardust-jake @gretavanbear @gvfmelborne @sirjaketkiszkasharmonica @jaaakeeey @neptune2324 @jaketlove @myleftsock @joshskittytickler @audgeppp @jordie-gvf @gretavansara @gretasfallingsky @jazzyfigz @louiseecraigg @hippievanfleet @blacksoul-27 @sarafrusciante2 @heckingfrick @citylight-delight @electricgoldtendercare @musicspeaks @hollyco @gvfpal @dannys-dream @josh-iamyour-mama @edgingthedarkness @earthgrlsreasy @hernameis-heaven @mackalah @gvfmarge

Masterlist

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fluff #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #gvf fanfic #gvf fics #gvf smut #greta van smut #jake kiszka #greta van fleet

263 notes · View notes

lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 9 months

Note

Could you do the OM bros seeing a friendly, opmistic, kind , funny Mc who's actually a cunning and a manipulative seducer/seductress. Always keeping a poker face in order to get what they want which is power and gets away with it but the brothers realize it too late( I know Lucy, Satan and Belphie are smart enough but It is possible for them to get "tricked" by Mc since they love them.)

Two-Faced Reader | Yandere Obey Me!

Power is what you’re after and you’re used to doing whatever you feel like to get it. Including acting like the innocent lamb that gets all of them wrapped around your fingers. Now whether you intended for their infatuation with you or not it's bound to further your agenda or more likely their own:

Leviathan

“Whooooa talk about mad twists!”

Thinks it's hot when you switch from the sweet ingenue to domineering master

Kind of likes the way switch

And the curiousness if its some condition and you only do it with him

Oh how he hopes

At your command, he summons Lotan on the daily

Sometimes completing sidequests without you telling him

Like offing those conspiratory NPCs

Satan

“I see what game your playing and I’m intrigued.”

He knows your games

And man does he love playing them

Your ambition rivals his own and he can’t help but want to encourage you

He’s not going to say he’s whipped but he’s certainly willing to cause all kinds of mayhem in your name

A shame that he’s not roped in by your fake personality

Asmodeus

“Oya~my baby wants them gone? Promise to give me kisses?”

He falls head first for you’re precious persona

So innocent, so cute

It makes pining for you all the more fun

And killing for you even more satisfying

He’s someone who’s not going to flip when you’re personality shines through

Your still his sexy lamb

And he so badly wants to keep you

Even if it means using his beauty to deceive those who get in your way

And the ones he just doesn’t like

Beelzebub

“Don’t accuse them of such things, they hardly know how devildom works.”

Falls hook line and sinker for your persona

No doubt easily deceived by your little acts

And in your defense, he’ll eat just about anyone

Even when it’s revealed, the truth of your true colors he can’t help but still believe

That you’d been deceived

That underneath the cunning persona is still the poor human that needs protection

And is number one in your crew for most likely to usurp

You don’t know what you’re doing so maybe he and Belphie should bother with the bad guys out there

Belphegor

“...Right. But they still want that one out of the way and we promised to do that right?”

Sees right through you

And originally isn’t all that fond of Beel’s perception of you

He thinks you tricked his sweet brother

But in a way, he finds that he agrees

You're a stupid, in over your head human

And who better to intervene in your shenanigans than the two of them

Plus he enjoys your bloodthirsty behavior

Though it's nothing compared to his murderous drive you’re still cute

If anyone is more likely to initiate the usurpation its him

Lucifer

“You think you’re so slick, I can’t help but be enamored.”

He doesn’t immediately see it

Playing into your hands for a short while

Before catching on and switching from compliance and not

He thinks both sides of you are cute

But you're just so naive to think enabling their murderous tendencies will end with only who you’ve designated a threat

He and his brothers can easily see more than you

So trust in that

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riahollywood · 2 months

Text

missing you | christian pulisic

──────────────────────

notes: this has been in my drafts ever since we were blessed with the white compression shirt pics. basically just some filthy phone sex smut 🤭 enjoy ✨

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

the ache between her legs only became more prominent as her boyfriend shot a cheeky wink to his teammate, the compression shirt clinging deliciously to his defined abs as he walked over to envelope a couple of his teammates in a hug, celebrating their win.

a smile etched on y/n’s face as she rested her head back against the soft headboard, sitting up slightly on her and christian’s shared bed.

her lips dropped into a pout as the tv footage cut away from christian and his team, the opposing team manager appearing on screen as the man behind the camera begun to ask his questions.

she was feeling majorly sorry for herself. already seething that her holiday request had been denied by her boss, now she couldn’t even look at his pretty face and sweaty body on her tv.

she decided to try and distract herself for a little while till christian called her. she knew he would be straight on the other end of the phone as soon as he got back to his hotel room. it was their usual routine, whenever y/n couldn’t join him, he’d always call her after a game. win or lose, he loved hearing her voice when she couldn't be there with him.

y/n decided to kill some time by indulging in a little pamper session, using the time to relax herself in a hot bath with her favourite salts before coating her body in her butters and lotions.

as she dried herself off, she was feeling mischievous and still riled up from seeing her boyfriend looking so handsome and not being able to have him. with that on her mind, she decided to tease him.

it wasn’t the first time she had done it and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. sending risky pictures, she knew it was a sure fire way to have christian in the palm of her hand when he called later on.

she picked out a black lacey lingerie set, discarding of her bath towel and slipping it onto her fresh body.

she exited the bathroom, heading back to their bedroom where she got comfy on their shared bed once more.

y/n pulled out her phone and opened up the camera app. she admired the way the thin bits of lace looked on her body. the tiny thong covered just about all it needed to whilst the thin material of the bra brushed against her hardened nipples and had her breasts spilling over the cups in a way she was certain christian would love.

she moved her body about, angling it in different positions till she was happy, capturing her body so perfectly she was certain it would have christian weak at his knees.

< 1 image attached

missing you x

send.

she smirked to herself as she locked her phone, putting it back down on the bed next to her and keeping herself busy by scrolling through netflix till christian replied.

not even 10 minutes had passed when her phone begun to ring, her heart bubbling as the sweet picture of the two of them flashed up onto the screen.

deciding she wasn’t done with teasing him just yet, she ignored the call, letting it go through to her answer phone.

ping.

call me. now. x

she smirked to herself as she saw the message flash up onto the screen, retrieving her phone from the mattress. she ran her hand through her hair, smoothing it out a little before pressing call back.

one ring was all it took for her boyfriend to pick up.

“hey, baby.” she answered sweetly, voice laced with fake innocence, doing her best to come off as ingenuous as she could before she caved, which she knew wouldn’t be too long.

“why didn’t you answer?” his voice was husky and stern and y/n pressed her thighs together at the sound of it. she had missed it so much.

“i- i didn’t hear it, im sorry.”

“mhm, too busy touching yourself?”

“no.” y/n answered quickly and honestly before taking a breath, “needed to wait to hear your voice to do that.”

christian groaned down the phone. he loved how needy she was for him. even when he was away, she needed him to be able to pleasure herself.

“what do you think you’re doing, sweetheart?” his voice was low. “sending me pictures like that, what if someone saw, mhm? wouldn’t want people finding out what a dirty little slut you are, would we?” she squeezed her legs together at his filthy words. there was a momentary silence that followed, clouded only by the noise of christian’s belt being unbuckled and his zipper being pulled down.

the thought of him pulling his cock from its confinded constraints was all too much for her, she finally had to finally do something about the ache between her legs. ghosting her hands down her body, she lightly traced her nipples through the lace as her other hand begun to trace gentle circles over her clit through her underwear.

a breathy groan left christian’s mouth as he thumbed at the precum on the tip of his dick before giving it a few measly tugs.

“i’m sorry, i just…” her fingers continued their delicate movements as she awaited further instructions from her boyfriend, but she couldn’t help a whimper from spilling from her lips as she felt just how damp the lace had become from her arousal of just watching him all sweaty on her screen. “i told you, i miss you, chris.”

a throaty groan left his lips and she knew he was looking at the picture she had sent him.

he begun stroking up and down, closing his eyes as he pictured his girlfriend’s soft hand doing the work instead of his. “i miss you more, baby, but i’ll be home tomorrow and all yours for a whole week.”

y/n giggled softly. “i can’t wait to have you back with me- oh.” she cut herself off with a moan as she slid a finger underneath her underwear, collecting some of the wetness to easily glide soft circles on her clit. “‘s not fair, you looked so hot tonight, baby. got me all worked up when you’re not here to fuck me so good.”

“you think so, sweetheart?” christian spoke, his first increasing it’s speed as he kept it wrapped tightly around himself. he wasn't too sure how he had ended up here so soon after the game, but he loved how easily he had her putty in his hands.

christian had frantically thrown his phone back into his jacket pocket when he had opened up the message, praying to God that his teammates behind him on the coach had not seen it. luckily they weren’t too far from the team hotel when he opened it and after making some excuse about wanting to unwind on his own, he made his way up to his room, locking the door and slouching back onto the king size bed as he frantically reached for his phone to call his girl back.

“so hot, baby. wish you could feel how wet you’ve made me.” y/n’s silky voice and desperate words went straight to his dick, his heart beginning to pound in his chest as he thought about his girl back at home in his bed touching herself to the thought of him.

“are you touching yourself, baby?” christian asked, his voice curious with want for her words even though he already knew the answer.

she continued rubbing slow circles around her clit, the wetness allowing for perfecly smooth strokes. her other hand lightly grazed over her hardened nipple through her bra before dipping in and gently pinching between two fingers, just how christian would do. “i’m sorry, i couldn’t wait till tomorrow.”

“tease yourself, baby. imagine it’s me, my big cock running up and down you, feeling how wet you are.” she did as she was told, christian feeling himself get harder and harder as quiet moans travelled through the phone that was now propped up against her ear.

she did as she was told, using two fingers to run up and down her slit before slipping them inside. “fuck, feels so good, christian, so good,” she moaned and christian let out a soft chuckle at how worked up she was already.

“yeah? you like that baby? you imagining your fingers are my cock?”

she whined, nodding her head. "yes. oh fuck yes."

christian’s hand came to a still as he used his other to grab his phone and snap a quick picture l, capturing his fist wrapped firmly around his shaft, the sensitive head red and dripping in precum.

he quickly sent the image and it wasn’t long till it was evident y/n had seen it, christian smirking to himself when a high pitched moan hits his ears.

she moved her fingers to mimic the movements christian would make to the best of her ability.

“my good fucking girl, aren’t you?”

a lewd moan fell from her lips, her fingers curling to graze deliciously against her sweet spot, the same way christian’s dick would press against it as he would bury himself deep inside her. god, she missed him so much.

“answer me, princess.” his voice was desperate, “need to hear you.”

“yes,” she managed to wrangle out, almost losing herself completely to the pleasure. “your good girl, only yours, christian.”

christian chuckled lowly as she continued to whimper. the sweet sounds passing through the phone line had christian aching for her touch, silently cursing the distance between them as he worked his first fast and hard.

“fuck, tell me how good it feels. are you thinking about me fucking you, sweetheart? wish i was the one fucking that pretty pussy of yours?”

“mhm, wish it was your cock instead, nothing feels as good as you do, baby.”

his head fell back as his fist continued to work himself, his other hand reaching round to cup his balls as he squeezed ever so slightly. christian imagined the warmth of her tight walls snuggly around him as she would clench tightly, approaching her high.

the wet sounds of his fist working himself had y/n even more frustrated she hadn’t been able to get the time off work, knowing how well christian would’ve fucked her after such a good game.

“can you hear how much i miss you, sweetheart?” christian husky spoke down the phone. a half moan mixed with a murmur of ‘yeah’ left her lips as she brought her other hand down to play with her clit, rubbing fast circles on the now swollen nub as her other hand continued to pump in and out, curving her fingers every so often.

“wish it was you, wish it was your big cock making me feel so good. want to feel you fill me up with your come, baby.” a high pitched noise left her mouth as her digits hit her sweet spot hard, her thighs tensing as her orgasm approached.

“gonna fuck you so good when i’m home, sweetheart. gonna bend you over our bed and you’re gonna let me pound you into that mattress till you’re screaming my name.”

“yes, fuck, i- i’m so close, chris, baby, i-oh.” she parted her lips, letting out a moan and throwing back her head as she let the blissful feeling completely consume her body.

christian groaned, his eyes falling shut as he felt his high approaching. “fuck, y/n, ‘m gonna come, princess.” her moans were enough to send him over the edge, his eyes falling closed as she moaned his name, riding out her high till she was so sensitive and had to remove her fingers.

christian opened him eyes, his fist still wrapped around his now softening cock as white ropes of his come covered his hand and thigh.

“naughty girl. got me in such a mess, baby.”

y/n giggled as she took in some breaths, trying to calm herself from her intense orgasm. “you know if i was there i’d help clean your mess up.”

christian groaned, his sensitive dick twitching at the thought of her tongue on his skin, cleaning up his come from his body.

“i’ll have you know it’s your mess, not mine sweetheart. i was ready for an early night till i got your promiscuous text.”

she giggled down the phone. “i’m sure i can make it up to you when you’re home.”

a groggy ‘mhm’ left christian. “oh, i’ll make sure you do, baby.”

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic smut #christian pulisic x you #christian pulisic blurb #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic fanfic

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guacamoleroll · 3 months

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— ᴘᴇʀ ᴛᴇ ᴇ ᴘᴇʀ ᴍᴇ ɴᴇʟ ᴄɪᴇʟᴏ · ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ ᴅᴏꜱᴛᴏᴇᴠꜱᴋʏ

content. gn!reader. based on a request. forehead kisses, flirting, slight character study, possible inaccurate depictions of italy, teasing, slight suggestive themes (towards the middle), soft!fyodor, translation at the end. muse-typical metaphors. not proofread. 1.7k+ words.

author's note. this was so fun to write! a very delicate balance of sweetness and humor, along with the slightest dashes of spice and angst. thanks to @rusmii for descending from the heavens to remind me of "love in portofino." i had it playing on repeat <3

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

It was difficult to describe the issues that arose from you and your lover's hectic schedules, at least to others. How would you ever begin to explain it—he's a terrorist dead-set on the eradication of sin from your world, and sometimes that doesn't mesh with your nine-to-five career. Yeah, that would be well-received at brunch. But it was your reality, and for the most part, you made it work.

Simple meals served between stints of scheming in his office; convoluted stories discussed amongst infrequent breaks in your living room. Both of you were aware that a relationship would not be easy, but you made it work. It wasn't for lack of trying on his part; however, you knew he disguised his desire to be close underneath a mask of perfection, pretending it was solely for your benefit. Sure.

So, to your surprise, a pamphlet appeared on your nightstand. You scanned the cover with scrambled thoughts—its glossed sheen describing the wonders of Rome—and when you inevitably arrived in his office to question its sudden appearance, he simply stated that he 'required a visit to the country' and that he knew you'd be interested in joining him.

To most, he's an enigma, but you read him like an open book. There was no use in pointing out his scheme, so instead, you settled into the idea of a vacation, joyfully assisting in any help he needed booking the trip—you had been to the city before and often spoke of your wish to return someday, which had seemingly caught his notice. He placed you in charge of specific details of the itinerary—smaller stops on your preset route, the transportation, restaurants for lunch—though he noticeably had already planned many of the larger events.

And that's how you arrived here. Rome, Italy. It was as luminous as you left it. You traded in your everyday attire for breathy linen and flowy cotton, allowing the Mediterranean sun to dance across your skin. Your ebony-haired lover was not far behind in fashion, a stark difference from the heavy wools and flannels of his motherland, which you had forced him to leave back in Yokohama so as not to worsen his already weakened constitution.

The brilliant city held a beauty incomparable, its streets nestled with centuries of history that went beyond books, laid to rest underneath soil and entombed in stone. Even Fyodor, with many years of travel under his belt, couldn't help but admire the manmade structures of a bygone era, which reached like beacons of human ingenuity into the firmament.

It had been ages since you explored the streets, and it was better now that you had a partner to hold your hand, hopping from place to place as you took in every destination with a new perspective. And in your exploration, you prayed Fyodor would find a connection with some kind of sight, with anything at all. He was a man so distant from mankind that you couldn't help but fret over his self-made isolation.

You were both exhausted—you had been on your feet for hours, and even though he tried to conceal it, you'd be foolish not to notice the slouch of his back as he tried to fight off sleep. He struck you with a knowing look whenever you cooed at him, forcing you to advert your eyes straight out onto the road as you scanned for the vehicle that was supposed to take you to the hotel.

Half an hour passed—nothing. You started to get worried.

"We've been scammed," he said, beating you to the punch as he stood from his seat on the sidewalk. You filled in his place, slumping against a wall as you hid your face in shame—one of the few tasks he had charged you with, and you had managed to mess it up!

He let out a breathy chuckle, patting the back of your head like he were comforting a scolded child. "We'll simply get a taxi."

You groaned, your stomach twisting at the sensation of your own incompetency, before allowing yourself to peek between your fingers to look out into the open world—and that was when you spotted it. A quaint shop with a flickering sign and a handful of mopeds slumped over outside. Fyodor's gaze followed yours, his brows furrowing as he found the target of your ire.

"Absolutely not."

But you had already grabbed onto his hand and pulled him out into the street, with surprisingly little resistance from him as he allowed himself to surrender to your will.

"You haven't experienced everything Rome has to offer," you hummed with a noticeable smirk, tilting your head to gaze at him between your lashes in a mocking attempt to sway his favor. "Come onnnn, Федечка."

He huffed, although his normal stoicism held an unmistakable look of fondness. "Ты маленькая гадюка."

You didn't need a translator to understand the meaning behind his words, heart filled with an almost sadistic joy as you approached the older gentleman that was running the shop. He seemed equally as amused as you were once he deciphered the situation, trading cash for keys as you skipped out the door.

Fyodor had planted himself onto the Vespa's seat without complaint, though you could not help his striking resemblance to a child on a bike that was far too small for them. He had his legs propped at an awkward angle to keep them from scraping against the ground, and the subtle twitch of his brow told you everything you needed to know.

You, on the other hand, were more than comfortable enough to settle between his legs, leaning against his chest as you reveled in the rare domesticality of the moment. That was until two arms decided to slither around your waist, a span of warm breath prickling your skin.

"You're quite brazen for someone that fell right within my grasp," he cooed, his voice dropping into that velvety, sadistically sweet tone that never failed to make you melt.

The bastard had planned this on purpose—he had reviewed your travel plans beforehand, including the transportation company. Much like you could read him, he knew your story from cover to cover, often reading over every page like his favorite novel. And he knew the best ways to make you squirm, his hand snaking up your side, brushing the sensitive divots of exposed skin as it made its way around your throat, giving the slightest but most lingering of squeezes.

That was until you unintentionally floored the gas pedal, propelling you both onto the street—luckily, there wasn't too much traffic at this hour. Despite the rush of the sudden acceleration, you had found that your heart returned to its normal pace as you moved with a rhythm within the twists and turns. You zipped past various sights, most of which were the most enjoyable, in your opinion—a glimpse into the lives of those who occupied these homes. There was a comfort in the consistency. People had passed and left, but the atmosphere remained the same, passed with care through every generation.

And then, your eyes caught onto something, and the muscles of your fingers instinctively flexed against the handlebars. The arms around your waist squeezed you when you began to tilt the moped steadily to the right.

"Don't—"

But you chose to do it anyway, slipping into a narrow sidestreet. You tried not to burst out in laughter at Fyodor's dumbstruck expression through the wing mirror, wishing to capture this moment in a frame somehow. Who knew that all it took to shut the mouth of the destructive mastermind Demon Fyodor Dostoevsky was a trip on a potentially dangerous vehicle?

You had recognized the pathway as a detour to an infamous part of the city—a perfect view of the Tiber River. It was difficult not to divert your path straight into the water when you funneled out into the road, the setting sun drawing a picturesque scene that could not be replicated, even if you returned to the same spot at the same time. There would never be another moment like this again. That sweet breeze parted the sky, both cradling and revitalizing you.

You crept onto a safe spot to park the moped and jumped off to rush to the edge of a bridge that overlooked the entire river, leaning against the railing while being careful not to tip your body over the side. The water sparkled and flickered from the rays of the dying light, twinkling as creatures rested underneath its surface. It enveloped you in an atmosphere of complete calm as if you and Fyodor were the only ones to exist in the world.

Speaking of.

His eyes had drifted toward a view completely different from yours, at least in aspects of physicality. You may have admired a sunset as the peak of fleeting beauty, but you seemed completely unaware that you encompassed every aspect of such a celestial entity, yet in such a strikingly ethereal way. He had seen many sunsets many times, much like he had seen many humans—unique and fascinating in their own way, but not always beautiful. But then, you crashed into his life, and he knew it was always intended for you to remain at his side. Much rarer than a sunset, much more precious.

He would take your life into his hands, ones stained in blood and sin, and unlike all the others he held within his grasp, he would nurture it—cherish it. Like a blossoming flower, he intended to care for you, an invaluable treasure.

He had already found the sight he had been searching for.

"Look!" you exclaimed, practically bouncing as you pointed toward the swaths of fluffed clouds that embellished the sky. "Isn't it gorgeous!"

You didn't even notice the slip of his mask as he joined by your side, brushing a kiss against your temple as he eyed the blooming excitement on your cheeks with your grin. The wind swept through in another attempt to swaddle you, letting the fresh smell of water brush through the folds of your clothes and the tresses of your hair. You turned your gaze to Fyodor, laughter caught in your throat as your eyes peered into his—locked onto you with an almost unnoticeable but most genuine of smiles.

"It truly is."

федечка = fedechka ты маленькая гадюка = you little viper

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @aureatchi @betweensinners @lovedazai @osameowdazai @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments @ajaxism @himikoslove @little-miss-chaoss @justcallmesakira

#muse's anthology ‧₊˚ ⋅#request: @dearhoney-31 .ᐟ #starring: fyodor .ೃ࿐#gn!reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #fyodor bsd #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader

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eastsideofthemoon · 4 months

Text

Celebrating Black History Month

Captain on the Bridge: CAPTAIN MICHAEL BURNHAM

Seasons 4 was our first full season of Michael as captain (finally)! So I'm reflecting on things she did that stood out to me. Also, it's Black History Month! She's our first Black female lead in a Star Trek Series and our first Black female lead captain, played brilliantly by Sonequa Martin-Green.

1. The Queen of Chaotic Ingenuity

Michael is a master of thinking on her feet. If a plan goes awry, she can course correct on the fly (bars). Honestly, we've seen her do this throughout Disco, but as captain, we especially see it in the season opener, Kobayashi Maru, with the Alshain (aka The Butterfly People). When their re-contact mission goes sideways, Michael is able to identify that there is an issue with their navigation and work with her crew to come up with a solution while being chased and shot at.

The Alshain did not report the problem, but by providing them a solution - no strings attached - Captain Burnham was able to win over their trust with the Federation.

2. Collaborator

I love how Michael respects the expertise of her crew and encourages their involvement with problem-solving. Having personally been on teams where collaboration was encouraged, it does a great deal in boosting team morale, building teamwork, and communicating through action that the individual team members' skills and ideas are valued. This is seen best in Anamoly and Stormy Weather. It's also seen with how she suggested to Book that he talk to Dr. Culbert. As a counselor, he's more equipped to manage Book's mental and emotional state after losing Kwejian.

3. Recognizing the needs of her crew

"All In" was one of my favorite episodes this season. The fun, the action, and Owosekun getting to shine. One of my favorite scenes was seeing how Michael responded to Owosekun's outburst with Saru from a previous episode. Instead of choosing to double down with additional punishment or verbal reprimand, she saw an opportunity to allow Owosekun to do more in her service to the mission at hand.

O: Why bring me?

M: Saru told me about what happened at the subspace rift. How you didn't want to stand down when he told you to.

O: I was totally out of bounds. I apologized to him.

M: I know. I also know how it feels to want to do something. Anything. And how it feels when you can't.

Michael recognized Owosekun's actions didn't come from a place of rebellion but a place of wanting to do more to help. Michael found an opportunity to allow her the space to fulfill that desire and utilize that drive.

Also, allowing a place on her ship that provides mental and emotional support for the crew via Dr. Culbert becoming the ship's councilor is the sign of a leader that cares about the whole health of her crew. Yes, I know other captains have had a ship’s counselor. The point it Captain Burnham does too and it deserves recognition.

4. Balancing her heart and duty

Captain Burnham had the challenge of being the supporting partner to the man she loved, who lost his entire home planet while maintaining her commitment to Starfleet. And she did a stellar job. Yes, she loves Book deeply and was willing to do all she could to help him. But when he went rogue, she chose to stay committed to the course of a peaceful first contact, despite it putting her at odds with the love of her life. Furthermore, when she thought Book died (Sonequa gave one of the best performances in Star Trek), she was still able to see the mission through, despite her heartbreak.

5. How she handled the Magistrate

Although empathetic to their plight, Captain Burnham still set clear boundaries with the magistrate about WHO has the authority, what WILL happen while on HER ship, and some food for thought when they arrive to wherever they find refuge. And she didn't have to raise her voice to do it. One's ability to yell at subordinates is not a true show of power and authority.

6. The Beginnings of a Diplomat?

Now we know Michael is a Kirk-type captain. And this season, she does not like politics or politicians. But during season 4, as much as she can’t stand it, we are shown that Captain MB may have the makings of a Diplomat as shown best in All Is Possible and But To Connect.

7. Leading a successful First Contact

Captain Burnham led a first contact like none other. A true first contact with serious stakes riding on its success or failure. After successfully getting through the Galatic Barrier (shout out to Detmer's immaculate piloting) and utilizing her (Michael’s) xenoanthropologic skills to investigate the 10-C's home planet, she along with some of the Federation's best had to figure out how to connect with the 10-C. A truly alien species, where universal translators failed to help with communication and who Starfleet had 0 records of. What makes Captain Burnham stand out is her willingness to step out on faith. She led her team on a mission on the 10-C's home planet to find some form of culture context to aid in their ability to communicate with them. It paid off. It laid the foundation for the first contact team and the USS Discovery crew to help understand how to communicate with the 10-C. Also, it should be noted that Michael admitted to President Rillak that she was angry, but we don't see her anger and frustration run her emotions or hinder her ability to command. I've seen people accuse her of being emotional. There's a difference between emotional intelligence and being emotional.

Also, I admire her recognizing when to take the lead and when to be a team player. As already stated, her calm demeanor and unwavering trust in the crew were excellent in helping them get across the Galatic Barrier. But she also recognized that it was President Rillak's voice that needed to be heard when informing everyone that the DMA moved to the Alpha Quadrant. It takes maturity to know when someone else need to lead and humility to let them lead. All of these actions lead to a successful first contact.

Conclusion:

In closing, Captain Michael Burnham is not the same Michael Burnham we met in season 1. In season 4, she has inner peace. She has a balance with human emotions and her Vulcan-trained logic. She knows who she is and has confidence in herself. Her duty to Starfleet and the Federation is matched with joy in what she's fighting for. Captain Michael Burnham is THE captain of the USS Discovery. No one else.

I want to end with this. There's plenty of room for more than one Black Starfleet captain. We can celebrate Sisko, Burnham, and Freeman in a way that respects them all. There's no need to pit them against each other. They all matter and are important in representing Black people in the future.

Happy Black History Month

#star trek #michael burnham #captain michael burnham #star trek discovery #black history month #bhm #season 4

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noonswrites · 1 year

Text

Honesty

synopsis: you’re in Xavier’s studio and he senses something other than your homework is troubling you…

warnings: oral f!receiving, handjob, fingering, penetration

you’ve been staring at your homework for some time now, trying to remember the name of a carnivorous plant while chewing the eraser of your pencil. Xavier studies your face, penciling in your furrowed brow down on his sketchbook. he could probably do this drawing with his eyes closed and document all of your features perfectly, but he chooses to watch you, for “practicing” purposes. you let out a groan of frustration and lay down on the floor next to him.

“need some help?” he offered as he shut his sketchbook, leaning over you, with his hands on the floor on either side of your head. his tall frame sprawled over your horizontal one, face inches from yours. your eyes flitted down to his lips.

he stays hovering over you for an annoyingly long amount of time; his stupidly soft hair brushing your face while his eyes scan your features looking for something in them. he finally rolls off of you “love, i can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong”. Xavier knows exactly what’s wrong— he could tell by the almost nonexistent glance you snuck to his lips. he’s decided to be insufferable about it before you can even choose how to respond.

you sit up and he does the same. your eyes shift downward as your fingers make their way to the hem of his shirt. you begin to play with it and let out an exasperated sigh. his hand crawls to the back of your neck and gently pushes your chin to face him, and while caressing your cheek he teases “if you don’t say anything now i’ll just make it harder for you to later”

“i needed help with my assignment” you let out hurriedly. he can tell he’s getting to you now, and slides his hand down to your waist.

“that’s it? you sure?” he whispers in your ear and you shiver. Xavier watches you intently as you avoid his eyes, your cheeks tinted pink. he considers what this would look like on his sketchbook, and concludes that your features aren’t wanton enough for his liking.

he kisses along your cheekbone and hovers above your lips, taunting you in hopes of earning a kiss. the playful psychic leans in impossibly closer, and now your lips are touching and he can feel your short breaths. a hand writhes up under your shirt, caressing your bare back while he does this. you finally concede, giving him the kiss he wouldn’t dare ask for himself.

it’s cut short by him pulling away “i don’t like liars…” a smug look sits on his prideful face. you don’t reply to this, which prompts him to lean over you again, pushing your weight to the floor. he starts to press chaste kisses along your neck and eventually down to your chest, stopping at your lower stomach. hands slide up and down your thighs and you jump at how gentle his touch is. his lips curl again at your reaction and he slides back upwards so he’s face to face with you again.

you pick up on the hungry look in his eyes, his pupils blown out. “kiss me” he says, and you oblige. he’s much more vigorous with his lips now and you’re afraid yours will bruise. he nibbles on your bottom lip and you feel yourself getting dizzier by the second. Xavier is flushed, still not satisfied with the glazed look on your face.

“ahh… so you do listen?” he teased. you’re panting now, and his sly smirk softens into a genuine smile “my pretty girl…” you hope this is a sign of defeat but Xavier would never let you off that easily. his long fingers make their way down to your stomach, right above your crotch.

“need you to tell me what you want now so i don’t hurt you okay? no more being stubborn” he says earnestly. his fingers draw comforting shapes on your skin.

“n-need you to t-touch me please” you let out. he rewards you by rubbing circles in between your thighs, eagerly awaiting your reaction. his eyes have never left your face since you started kissing him, and although he’s being mean, he can’t help the ingenuous look of adoration he wears as his face lays on your thigh. you let out an inescapable moan as your hips involuntarily twitch.

“so eager” he hums in between kisses on your stomach “so what were you saying about that assignment earlier?” you cover your face with your hands and groan. “need to see you my love, i want to watch you fall apart while i’m winning this argument” you reluctantly lift your hands as he pulls down your underwear.

“god i wish i could paint you like this” you’re on the verge of tears now, overwhelmed with all of the teasing.

“please xavier” you can barely recognize your own voice, so desperate and strung out. he finally flattens his tongue against your pussy and licks a stripe upwards, stopping at your clit and wrapping his lips around it. your whole body tingles and xavier is so hard it hurts, but he pushes through, just as desperate for you to come as you are now. he changes his approach, and you recognize what he’s doing. Xavier kisses your clit as softly as he kisses your lips, pulling away every so often to look at you. you feel like you could melt into the mattress. you watch as he does it again, leaning down while his eyes gently flutter shut as he envelops your sensitive spot, sensing your pulse as he passionately suckles it. your hands search for something to hold on to and xavier notices, gently reaching over to hold them.

his tongue dives into your hole and you whine “feels so g-good” prompting him to lean into you more. you know if you weren’t so lost in pleasure, you’d be slightly embarrassed of the position you’re in now, with Xavier fervently working his tongue in you and your uncontrollable moaning. Xavier is not unaware of this, taking advantage of you being blissfully unaware of how you look and sound as a chance to make you as loud as he can, curling his tongue upwards and repeating the action a few times. your hand squeezes his when he licks circles around your clit, amused by how it makes you squirm. His boyish grin makes another appearance.

“pretty girl… are you… embarrassed?” you turn your head away helplessly and squeeze your thighs around his head. he giggles and you peek over at him again. xavier takes this opportunity to slowly insert two of his fingers into your cunt, curling them upwards, causing you to twitch. he pauses before pulling them out slowly, as they are completely soaked even before he puts them in his mouth and sucks on them.

“stop” you let out unconvincingly; as the previous action was responsible for making you somehow wetter than you were before.

“if that’s what you want-“ he starts to say honestly “no please- need you- need to c-“ he hushes you with a kiss and a tear rolls down your cheek, which he wipes away with his thumb.

“i know my love, i only did it because i needed you to be honest” he says while your foreheads are pressed together. “wanted you to learn your lesson okay?” you nod. Xavier doesn’t really mean this, if your dishonesty led to the current situation, he never wanted you to be honest again. he gazes at the evidence of his actions in awe: your tinted cheeks, tear stained lashes, puffy lips and slightly furrowed brow, and decides he needs to watch you fall apart from this angle. you wrap an arm and leg around him and start to kiss his neck as his fingers make his way down to your pussy. he slips two of them back in and you suck on his neck harder. he curls them upwards and you bite him softly because you can’t help it. he moans and attempts to keep moving his fingers, but you grab his wrist and look up at him.

“need you inside” as he looks down at you, you can tell he’s losing his composure. his mouth is agape and eyes lidded with rosy cheeks to match yours. whatever restraint he had left vanishes as you pull his dick out of his pants, ready to do whatever you ask of him. you begin to pump it a few times, taking advantage of the fact that he’s distracted. xavier’s eyes roll back and he lets out a soft moan, and you kiss the bruised spot on his neck. he’s hard as a rock but the rest of him is limp, pliant to your ministrations. you slip your other hand up his shirt, softly caressing his chest, and this is what finally forces his eyes back down to you. you’re surprised to find him teary-eyed, and Xavier can’t control his urge to kiss you in that moment. It’s soft but urgent, gentle and clumsy. you rubbing your thumb over the tip of his cock is what causes him to pull away and gasp.

“g-gonna cum” he says desperately. you take this opportunity to finally guide him inside of you and neither of you can control yourselves anymore. you’ve never seen Xavier so frantic, his hair a mess all over his face and you do your best to shakily move it out of the way. you lean over and kiss all over his face as he thrusts into you hurriedly. he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer. even though he said it before, you know this is a sign he’s close because xavier gets adorably clingy when he’s about to cum. your foreheads press together as xavier eagerly brings both of you closer to orgasm. the grinding, mixed with your proximity and sensitivity has you nearly wrecked. there’s still something almost affectionate about the way he fucks you, attentive to your reactions and trying to gage how close you are despite being almost over the edge himself.

Xavier has lost his control of this situation, but still finds himself saying “th- this is what you wanted huh pretty girl? s-still not g-gonna let you c-um until you beg me” you’d definitely laugh at him if you weren’t so close, the sight of him delirious with pleasure was unfortunately turning you on more than amusing you currently.

“please Xavi i n-need it- you f-feel so fu-fucking good baby” he can’t take much more of the way you sound and how you feel, finally being sent over the edge by you squeezing yourself around him. you’re surprised that he keeps going, so determined to make you cum that he does his best to ignore his own orgasm. watching his cheeks get impossibly redder and feeling his release deep in your cunt brings you fatally closer. Xavier can barely process a thought through his head, but still manages to be headstrong about your impending orgasm.

“you’re n-not gonna try to l-lie to me a-again, huh?” he barely manages to let out, shaking with over sensitivity.

“no xavi i promise, please!” a tortured moan escapes you and Xavier finally gives in to his pity of your current state, your tear-stained cheeks too much for him to handle.

“i’m sorry my love, you can cum now” he thrusts into you apologetically, quickening his pace so he can put you out of your “misery”. you finally do as he says, blacking out momentarily. Xavier holds you with concern and awe, his hand on your cheek wiping away your tears as you convulse. your nails leave long red streaks on his back as your eyes squeeze shut, missing the doting look Xavier has in his eyes. He checks on your limp form before reluctantly pulling away from you, finding a towel to wipe both of you. you finally lift your head, silently watching him clean you up.

Xavier can’t hold back the smile on his face at the sight of you “welcome back”

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