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ghostlyferrettarot · 2 months

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🌌5th house and your creative expression🌌

❗️All the observations in this post are based on personal experience and research, it's completely fine if it doesn't resonate with everyone❗️

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🪷Masterlist🪷

🔮5th house in Aries: They constantly have all kinds of project ideas in their heads, they are always on the move. He never sits still and gets very nervous in the quiet moments of his career. They have an impulsive nature that leads them to implement numerous projects, although most of them are never completed. They have a competitive nature and like to show their individuality when it comes to their art.

🔮5th house in Taurus: Art lovers, enjoy visiting exhibitions, museums or attending music concerts of the most varied styles. The pleasure that these activities provide them is very remarkable. They also practice developing their creativity, such as painting, sculpting in stone or molding clay. They admire beauty and try to get closer to it with all the means at their disposal. Taurus in the 5th house is really ambitious.

🔮5th house in Gemini: They have an agile mind and are open to new ideas. They perform well in activities such as teaching, research and all types of areas where intellect is applied. They like it and they acquire information about what they are developing and also about themselves. There is a lot of will to achieve your goals and with a positive attitude. You can also carry out creative activities related to the arts, advertising, marketing, etc.

🔮5th house in Cancer: They will be eager to learn always and especially when the topics have to do with creation and emotion, above logic and pragmatism. They are great writers and poets. Their works are more imaginative and expressive and, to the public's liking, they tend to be more creative at night.

🔮5th house in Leo: they are very creative and love to be the center of attention. They can find their creativity and fun in activities such as acting, music, and art in general. They can also be very romantic and enjoy romance and passion. They show a lot of harmony and balance in their creative expression, as well as eccentricity.

🔮5th house in Virgo: They are very perfectionists and can find their creativity and fun in activities that allow them to be useful, such as organizing events and planning. They are analytical, they need to feel that what they talk about is based on clear rules that they can explain and control, and not just in an arbitrary idea about aesthetics or pleasure.

🔮5th house in Libra: They are very aesthetic and can find their creativity and fun in activities related to art and beauty. They can be very romantic and enjoy balanced and harmonious relationships. Their ideas are innovative, harmonious, aesthetic and original. They like to have fun together with others and when they get involved in a project, they have more confidence in themselves and are able to take advantage of their abilities when working in partnership with others.

🔮5th house in Scorpio: They like to create in isolation and experiment when no one is watching. They are very passionate and can find their creativity and fun in activities that allow them to explore the deeper aspects of life. They can be very intense and dramatic. He has a lot of imagination and intuition, as well as a great capacity for analysis, willpower and firmness.

🔮5th house in Sagittarius: they are good improvisers, they know how to create in extreme situations and they never say no to a challenge. They are very adventurous and can find their creativity and fun in activities related to travel and exploration. They can be very playful and enjoy sports and other physical activities.

🔮5th house in Capricorn: They are very responsible and can find their creativity and fun in activities that allow them to build and achieve their goals, such as business administration and investment. They can be very cautious. They are ambitious, they do not embark on trivial projects or projects that will not give them significant benefits, not always economic, but creative. They tend to be good architects, furniture and fashion designers.

🔮5th house in Aquarius: you need to move freely, without conditions or ties; Possession does not fit into their way of seeing life; furthermore, it is a sign characterized by their detachment. They are very original and can find their creativity and fun in activities that allow them to experiment and explore new ideas and technologies. They tend to be the trend setters in their environment and have great vision for the future and mental clarity.

🔮5th house in Pisces: They are very sensitive and can find their creativity and fun in activities related to art and music. They can be very romantic and have a very deep emotional connection with their projects. Although they possess a high level of intelligence and creativity, they can get stuck in their imagination due to their emotional and sensitive nature. They tend to be great therapists or psychologists.

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feirceangel · 3 months

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Imagine | Dance (Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen)

Imagine Feyd attending a ball and being bored to tears until you appear in the crowd.

A/n- thanks to everyone who read and supported my other Feyd fic!! I hope you all enjoy this one too :)

Word Count: 1,353

Warnings: none

The ballroom is overrun with diplomats and politicians. All dressed up in their very best attire, each one is hoping to impress those richer and more influential than themselves.

Feyd observes with a bored demeanour, swirling the blood red wine in his goblet. He’s leaning against a white pillar, staring out at the people with keen dark eyes.

A celebration of this degree isn’t something to be missed, his Uncle had said, insisting on his attendance.

So he attends, although he is bored from the lack of any meaningful conversations or actions. The feast was the best part, his favourite piece a bloody rare steak that practically melted in his mouth.

No one has come to speak with him out of a desire to just chat. No, each person who spoke had an ulterior motive and fear in their eyes. They want to be on the Harkonnen’s good side, lest they become victims instead. So, they chat about inconsequential things, all the while their hands shake and betray their frayed nerves.

Feyd found it amusing at first, but has since grown tired of it. These fickle politics and the endless pursuit of money. Money and power make this universe worth living in.

Music begins to play, a sensual drum beat joined by the strumming of string instruments and an angelic vocalizer. The sea of mingling people part as they allow the dancers the necessary space to move.

Feyd’s lips curl as he watches people join in the dance, the ballroom finally used for its original purpose.

People in skin tight dresses, fashionable suits, those showing too much skin, some showing none- the room is flooded with a menagerie of humans.

Each one is dancing with a partner, bending and swaying to the rhythm. All accept one.

He watches her move in perfect synchronization with the lilting music, lifting her arms high in the air. She avoids the stuffy aristocratic dancers who hardly allow the music to carry them.

She looks like a woman possessed. As if the melody has taken root deep within her and bids her to perform a marvellous spell.

It must be a spell, for he finds himself bewitched.

No one else has captured his attention so profoundly this whole event. He hasn’t even spoken with her yet and oh how he wishes too.

He must.

Feyd has never before desired to dance. Not unless it was the dance of battle, of blades clashing and blood dripping.

You have changed that.

As he watches you deftly twirling and clapping gently to the song, he cannot stop his body from acting on its own accord.

And Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, fearsome warrior, finds himself pushing through the crowd to join you in your hypnotic dance.

You notice when the handsome stranger leaves his spot by the pillar, his eyes fixated only on you. You’re not sure how to feel.

During the dinner, you had walked by him on the way to your designated place. You’re from a minor house, not fit to sit with the guests from the major ones. Not that you minded, it’s always been this way.

He had caught your attention immediately. Brooding and gorgeous, with full, sensual lips and the palest skin you’ve ever seen, how could you resist admiring him?

He hadn’t noticed you then.

He notices you now.

A soft smile graces your lips as he reaches you, dark eyes boring into yours. You stop as he reaches out a sculpted hand.

You take it.

His hand is warm, and you can sense the strength hiding just beneath his skin. This man is dangerous, you realized that when you first spotted him.

To your surprise, he is an excellent dancer, leading you in perfect harmony to the music. You can barely hear the music over the pounding of your heart.

This wasn’t what you expected.

“You are a wonderful dancer,” you whisper once you’re close enough to hear each other.

His smirk is prideful, “A fighter must be lithe and nimble, my lady.”

His voice is raspy, deep. Again, you are taken by surprise.

“You must be an excellent warrior too.”

You spin around, his hand guiding you. He has dropped his smile, replaced it with a predatory look reminiscent of a hungry panther.

“The best,” he replies, supporting your back as he dips you downwards.

The other dancers seem to fade away as you dance with him, this frightening stranger. His touches are like a fire unto you, his gaze a steady burning.

He dances as if it’s a battle of dominance. He leads without hesitation, and you answer with the fluidity and grace befitting a lady.

It’s exhilarating.

And it’s gone too soon as the music dies down and the other clap for the musicians.

Breathing heavily, you simply stare at this man who joined you in rapturous movement, not wanting it to end.

He hasn’t let go of your hand.

You don’t want him to.

“What’s your name?” You ask before he can slip away and disappear forever. If he did, you’d at least want to remember his name.

He smirks, “You don’t know me?”

“No, or I would not have asked,” you point out.

He chuckles, revealing blacked teeth, “I am na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, my lady.”

You blink at this revelation. You’ve never met a Harkonnen before, let alone a such a high ranking one.

Feyd expects you to recoil in fright, surely knowing the brutality his house is known for. He is taken aback when you smile.

“I am pleased to meet you,” you in line your head slightly as you supply your own name.

He realizes his hand is still clasping yours and that you don’t seem to mind it one bit. Feyd gently tugs you towards him, “Come, it is too crowded here.”

Perhaps foolishly, you allow yourself to be led away from the ballroom and into a quiet hall.

It’s late, and you can see the stars through the sheer curtains of the hallway.

“Are you enjoying the festivities? You seemed unhappy,” you ask. “I saw you by the pillar.”

“I was bored,” he admits without care. “Before the dance.”

“And now?”

“And now I have welcome company and my boredom has fled in the wake of your beauty.”

He traces a hand, still so warm, down your cheek. You bask in the attention, wondering if this is all a dream you’ll wake from in a moment.

Feyd’s hand goes lower, until it grasps around your neck and tightens. Not enough to cause damage, but enough to still your breathing. With his grip tight, he pulls you forward and kisses you deeply.

It’s intoxicating.

He kisses like he dances, dominating and alluring. You bring your hands up to grip his shoulders as he continues his assault on your senses.

“Everything was dull until you danced into my sight,” he rasps as you catch your breath. “I’ve never seen such a vision.”

“I have never seen a man like you,” you confess, resting a hand on his chest. “You have such intensity…”

“Does it frighten you?”

“No, no it thrills me, my lord.”

The way those words roll off your tongue has Feyd hooked, his mouth latching onto your neck as he cups your face with one hand.

“Do you know what I’ve done?” He asks, unsure why he’s asking.

“I know you’ve danced beautifully,” you smile. “And I know your touch feels electrifying. And I know you’re going to take me into an empty room.”

You withdraw from him slightly, awestruck at the hunger in his eyes.

“And what happens then?”

He retakes your hand, not too gently this time, and practically drags you to the nearest room, slamming the pen the door.

Luckily, no one is in there.

“You know what happens next,” you say, already stripping him of his fine shirt before doing the same to yourself.

Feyd is glad he decided to come to this festival, thanking his lucky stars as he stares in awe at your beauty.

He wonders if you make love as spellbindingly as you dance.

He’ll soon find out.

#female reader #reader insert #feyd x you #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #feyd oneshot #feyd x reader #feyd-rautha harkonnen #dune part two #dune x reader #feyd imagine #dune

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miamaimania · 1 month

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An intricately sculpted oasis, Zarcero's Topiary Garden whispers tales of meticulous craftsmanship and harmonious coexistence. 🌿✨

#sculpture #contemporary #landscaping #garden #topiary

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ebuzercaner · 2 years

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I must admit my requiem is troubling me- from Pushkin's The Little Tragedies I like this piece hope you all like it too ☕️

#pushkin #mozart #art #music #ornament #çizim #sketch #desen #hardwork #ethos #love #sculpt #hand #flute #harmony #ebuzer #artists on tumblr

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doumadono · 4 months

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GENSHIN IMPACT MASTERLIST

Itto

Itto would morph into a blushing tomato before he could muster the guts to ask for a kiss from you. His usual carefree swagger would crumble into a nervous wreck, and his words would stumble out like they were trying to navigate a maze of shyness. It looked as if his hand might quake with the sheer force of his own bashfulness.

“Y/N, can I...” he'd falter, the hesitation hanging in the air like a dramatic pause in a play.

“What's on your mind, Arataki?” you would inquire, catching on to his internal struggle.

Despite his attempts to play it cool, Itto's infatuation would be practically screaming. His eyes would linger on the curve of your lips, and the subtle, unintentional act of moistening his own would give away the unspoken desire within him.

But when the kiss finally happened, it would be nothing short of a tender delight. Itto would revel in the simplicity of a soft peck, as if it could light up his entire existence. The shy encounter would be etched into his memory, a moment frozen in time, but now, he'd carry it like a cocky badge of honor.

As the sweet exchange concluded, Arataki, now brimming with newfound swagger, would seize the moment to intertwine his fingers with yours, as if to say, "Well, that wasn't so tough, now was it?"

Wriothesley

Wriothesley, being the smooth gentleman he is, always manages to charm you into saying yes when he craves a little pick-me-up kiss. He's got this super sweet approach, especially when the weight of work stress is bearing down on him.

Sometimes, he'll straight-up ask, all sweet and innocent, "Y/N, my little sweetpie, could you give me a kiss?"

But then there are those times when subtlety is thrown out the window. Wriothesley would casually grab you by the waist when there's even a hint of an opportunity, pulling you close against his broad chest with a confident whisper, "Come and kiss daddy, babygirl."

And oh, those kisses! They're like an addiction you willingly succumb to. Sometimes, he's in the mood for a bit of teasing – a swift lick of your bottom lip, a taste that's enough to recharge his energy, leaving you slightly breathless and craving more.

Neuvilette

You remain appreciative that he confines these moments to the privacy of our home or when solitude envelops you.

Whenever the inclination to kiss strikes, his approach is marked by a profound passion, and the duration extends beyond mere seconds. It's as though he seeks to savor every nuance of your being.

When he needs it, he'll watch you intently for a while, whether engaged in scrutinizing others or engrossed in a case. Then, with a politeness that conceals a subtle demand, he would utter, "Kiss me, my love."

His lips, when they meet yours, carry the faint taste of candy. It leads you to ponder whether he perennially indulges in this confection, given the persistently sweet flavor that lingers in his mouth.

Zhongli

Zhongli, unapologetically, never shies away from asserting his desires, regardless of the setting. His kisses, a blend of demand and tenderness, are a testament to the assertive nature of the Geo Archon. In moments when he craves proximity, he doesn't hesitate to make his intentions known.

"Y/N, I want a kiss from you," he commands, the weight of his voice carrying a subtle dominance, a declaration of his desires that brooks no opposition. His hands, steady and firm, find their place at your waist, claiming it as if sculpting the very essence of intimacy.

Zhongli's kisses unfold with deliberate slowness, a deliberate dance that brushes his lips against yours in unhurried motions. The demand in his kiss, paired with the gentle exploration, creates a harmonious balance that reflects both his dominance and the depth of his affection.

Your compliance to his requests is wholehearted, a testament to your fondness for each and every one of his kisses. The unspoken understanding between you two only deepens the connection, allowing the echoes of Zhongli's dominance to resonate in the intimate moments you share.

Kaveh

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Kaveh beckons you with a sing-song voice, his lips playfully pouting as he calls, "Baby, come give me a kissy kissy, yeah?" Persistent and unyielding, he brushes off any attempt to decline, challenging you with a raised eyebrow and a daring smirk.

Refusing him is not an option, for Kaveh always presses on. He questions your love for him, provocatively asking if he's lost his touch as a kisser.

When it comes to stealing sweet moments, Kaveh doesn't shy away. He's not afraid to snatch a taste of any candy you hold between your lips. And as he leans back, a sassy smirk plays on his face, leaving no doubt about the intensity and seriousness he invests in each stolen kiss. "Mmm, sweetie, that was the sweetest kiss you've ever offered me!"

#genshin impact x reader #neuvilette genshin #neuvillette #neuvilette x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley headcanons #arataki itto #itto x you #itto headcanons #itto x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #kaveh headcanons #kaveh x reader #kaveh fluff #kaveh x you

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hsjazebel · 18 days

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FRAGMENTS OF HAPPINESS

Y/n and Harry celebrate the arrival of their baby girl with a walk in the park.

masterlist

Y/n felt enveloped in the softness of her wool cardigan, which kept her company as she walked with Harry along the park path.

Every step they took together seemed like a harmonious ballet, marked by the sweet and constant rhythm of the nature that surrounded them.

The warmth of the spring sun caressed her skin, inviting her to let herself be carried away by the sensations of the moment.

Little Emma's pram moved silently in front of them, guided by Y/n's loving hand.

Wrapped in a soft and light wool blanket, the little girl slept peacefully, transmitting a sense of peace and tranquility that enveloped the entire scene with an aura of magic. Her regular and peaceful breathing was like a delicate lullaby that accompanied her parents' walk.

They found a secluded corner under the cool shade of a majestic tree, where Harry carefully spread a red and white checked blanket on the green lawn.

The softness of the cozy fabric seemed to invite Y/n and Harry to immerse themselves completely in the present moment, abandoning themselves to the beauty of the nature that surrounded them.

As Harry prepared the sandwiches with care and attention, the inviting scent of their fresh ingredients wafted through the air, enveloping their senses in a warm and welcoming embrace.

The sound of small woodland animals moving around them added a gentle melody to their peaceful walk in the park.

Y/n leaned towards Emma in her pram, gently stroking her face with her fingertips. "Look how beautiful she is, Harry," she whispered, a bright smile painted on her lips. "She is so perfect, as if she were sculpted from heaven itself."

Harry approached Y/n, placing a hand on her shoulder and letting her gaze wander into their little girl's sleeping face. "She is the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to us," he replied in an emotional voice. “I couldn't have imagined a more precious gift than her.”

Y/n smiled, her eyes bright with joy and gratitude. "We are so lucky to have her, Harry. I can't wait to share all the love we have in our hearts with her."

Harry nodded, squeezing Y/n's hand lightly in his. "And I can't wait to see everything the future has in store for us as a family. I know that together we can face anything."

The sunlight filtered through the branches of the trees, creating plays of light and shadow that danced on the green lawn.

The birds sang happily in the branches, adding a natural symphony to their sweet spring serenade. It was as if nature itself celebrated the beauty and purity of the love that bound Y/n, Harry and little Emma.

Y/n looked at Harry with eyes full of love as he carefully placed the sandwiches on her plate.

His presence next to her gave her a feeling of calm and security, as if together they could face whatever her life had in store for them.

Their bond was so strong that it seemed to defy time and space, enveloping them in an intimate and unbreakable embrace.

As they ate, they whispered about their dreams and hopes for the future.

They imagined the wonderful world they would build for Emma, one of love, respect and understanding. Every word they exchanged was like a fragment of a precious mosaic, which would tell the story of their love forever.

After the picnic, Y/n and Harry decide to take Emma for a ride on the nearby swings.

The park, bathed in the golden light of the sunset, looks like a living painting.

The lush green grass contrasts with the colorful flowers blooming along the path, while the sound of leaves blowing in the breeze creates a soothing melody.

Harry gently pushes the pram as Y/n walks alongside him, the scent of spring flowers surrounding them adding a sweet note to the air.

Their laughter and whispers mix with the birdsong, creating a symphony of love and joy that fills the park.

“Look, little Emma,” Y/n says with a bright smile, pointing to the swinging swings. "One day you will be able to climb on those swings and fly high into the sky. But for now, enjoy the gentle rocking of the pram."

The swings, illuminated by the light of the sunset, seem to swing in sync with the heartbeat of Y/n and Harry.

Every movement is a preview of future adventures, of dreams to be realized and of joys to share together.

Harry joins Y/n's smile, affectionately caressing Emma's little face. "It will be amazing to see the world through your eyes, baby. Every day will be an adventure."

Sitting on a nearby bench, Y/n and Harry embrace each other tenderly, lulled by the tranquility of the park at sunset.

The sky paints shades of pink and gold as the sun slowly hides behind the horizon.

In that moment, they are pervaded by a feeling of peace and happiness, aware that their love, strong and unconditional, will always accompany them along the path of life.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles blog #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #dad! harry #harry styles fluff

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trashmouth-richie · 1 year

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Eddie x Fem! Reader

master list

tw: no minors gtfo i stg, kissing, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex piv. Etc

summary: it’s happening

a/n: we made it b holes and babes, special s/o to my beta readers @agentmarvel @blueywrites @jo-harrington @sweetsweetjellybean — this chapter is short and sweet. Hope you enjoy

His lips.

Your lips.

Firm.

Soft.

Cracked.

Smooth.

It feels like your souls are levitating off the ground. Hovering over your lip locked bodies and soaring higher to nap in the clouds.

He’s careful but sure, not pressuring you to open your mouth further but following your lead. His lips taste like bitter whiskey and Marlboro Red, a burnt sensation that has you coming back for more with each gentle brush of his lips against yours. The act is stoic. And coming from a very well experienced lover in the sex department, you didn’t see it coming. Prudent hands caress the warming apples of your cheeks, thumbs gliding over your soft skin every so often.

Having Eddie’s lips on yours could be compared to giving in while dieting, an addict trying to stay sober. You held off for as long as you could, telling yourself this shouldn’t happen. It would be wrong. But how could something so wrong, taste and feel so right?

Drunk— no dizzy. Head spinning like a carousel your mind is leading you now. Your hands find purchase against his neck, warm and sweaty from his hair. The other is snaked around him, bringing him impossibly closer, your bodies forming around each other like playdoh in a child’s tight grip.

You’ve never been kissed like this in your life. Every cell in your body is on fire. Simmering low and bubbling hot for him. Robbed of never having experienced something as sweet and tender as this in twenty-one years, you are overwhelmed with emotions at how right, how good, and how fucking fantastic Eddie was making you feel.

Opening your mouth slightly welcoming his tongue, you lick the underside of his top lip, the molten muscle sending chills down Eddie’s spine as you lightly massaged his lip. A moan shakes beautifully from his throat and he follows your lead. Coaxing his tongue gently against yours, a twirling tango of wet heat and fervor have you clutching his neck tighter. He licks into your mouth and you gasp, aware that although you’ve been kissed before it was never like this, lacking the passion that you are feeling while being kissed by Eddie.

No words are spoken and they don’t need to be. The high you’re on is pure euphoria, purple clouds and shimmery stars guide you as you pour your lust into Eddie’s hands and kiss him sugary sweet, your tongues interwoven like threads of yarn in a homemade set of mittens.

Hungry and trembling to feel more of him, your hands move leisurely to the front of his chest. His heart is pounding at your touch, his lips never leave yours. Completely occupied by your slicked lips cushioned between his. Your palms pressed flat against the cotton of his shirt as they navigate to his shoulders. The muscles in his shoulders and arms are well-defined, taut against your hands. Strength uncomparable from years of manual labor. Sculpted perfectly against your hands, arms capable of fighting two men at once, but tender enough to hold you tightly to comfort you. The same arms that wiggled around your thighs and your waist, never letting you go as you comforted him. They were powerful, majestic in a multitude of ways, but pliable and baby soft under his creamy, sweat slicked skin. Fingers moving gingerly downward, inching his jacket slowly off his shoulders, this was the moment, the one that would set off alerts to your brain and to Eddie’s on what you were needing from him. No longer hiding how you felt, no longer unsure or scared of the unknown, you shuck his jacket further down his arms. The creak of the leather squeaking a gentle song in your ears— beautiful harmonious notes of relief as it hits the ground and puddles at Eddie’s feet.

Goosebumps crawl against his flesh, and he works his magnetic lips from yours. Concern paints his face hiding a small trickle of want. Your face still in his hands, he pours his heart out into your eyes, but it’s not enough. If he was going to do this he needed to be sure you were on the same page.

His lips were wet and colored somewhere between the shade just before red but after pink, hungry and not quite full. Pupils blown wide, he tries to convey his thoughts in an unspoken way, but he needs to be sure this is what you want. Placing his hands in yours, fingers locked together in a softened callous grip of joined flesh, he looks from your lips to your eyes and back again.

His voice is husky and dipped low, dripping with sweet honey chords of desire when he speaks to you serenely, “tell me what you want Tooty.”

He’s leaving it up to you, never known as a gentleman before he would be just that for you, in any situation. But especially in this one. Out of respect for you and keeping your demons at bay, if you only wanted this— he’d die tomorrow with a smile imprinted on his face— never ask you to cross your lines of comfortability. Dice in your hands, he waits patiently, thumbs circling the top knuckles of your fingers.

Sure and ready you drop his hands to wrap your fingers along the safety pinned hem of your homemade gift from Eddie, threading the cotton fabric over your head you unthread your arms quickly, not wanting to waste a single second of seeing him. Coy in your delivery, you try your best to calm the wave of nervousness as it crashes around you, warm water soaking your skin as you stand in your bra before Eddie. But his eyes never leave yours, a soldier to his own word, guarding your dignity with everything he had— the last thing he wanted was for you to feel like he wasn’t taking this seriously and only wanted to fuck you.

Fingers skirting under his own shirt you pry it off his body gently. Staring into his eyes you finally speak, “I want you, Eddie. I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

He hums low with satisfaction, the fine lines of his brow flatten and smooth against his forehead, eyebrows receding from his bangs back into place. His calloused hands find your cheeks again, rubbing the pads of his thumbs against your cheeks in a windshield wiper motion, sliding against the smooth expanse of your cheeks, with no tears to dry.

The depth of his eyes are miles deep of rich chocolatey swirls, a fountain of yearning and longing as he whispers gently, “I'm gonna take care of you.”

Nodding along in a silent agreement, Eddie brings his lips to yours. Fruition and passion burst behind your eyelids, his lips are warm and cozy silk as he kisses his way down your neck. The sensation brings warmth to your core and goose bumps along your skin, heightened by the feel of his wet tongue on you. Angling your neck to the side for better access, his tender kisses deepen, whiskey colored curls tickle your shoulder blades and the top of your breasts as his descend down your neck capsizes. Large hands grip the back of your thighs and he pulls you up, hoisting you in his arms. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. His bare skin simmers hot against yours, burning with longing zeal. Electricity surges through you when Eddie moves towards his bedroom. Kicking open the door with his boot and back closed the same way, his mouth never leaving your body, tongue painting you with his slicked spit and wine colored bruising.

He bends down to his bed, carefully adjusting you down your back tickled by the comforter. Laying you down as delicate as a flower atop a loved ones coffin, he pulls back, eyes drunk on you and full of blissful lust, his dark curls hanging from him like a curtain, strong Oxford colored arms on either side of you, his chain necklace swaying in front of you, a taunting pendulum from his bare chest to the tip of your nose.

You timidly reach up to stroke his face, stubborn stubble that he keeps shaved is making a late night debut against your palm, he leans into your touch turning his cheek until it’s flush against your hand. His warm skin singing in your hands. He’s everything you’ve wanted and more. Kicking yourself silently for denying yourself the way he’s looking at you right now, you whisper to him, “you’re so handsome, Eddie.”

He pinks under your palm, he’d been called the name before, but under the weight of your sweet voice, your eyes shining under him, he melts like forgotten chocolate in a denim pocket in the summer. His heart shatters through the atmosphere and skids along the stars, only coming back down to beat wildly in his chest.

“Baby,” Eddie coos, holding your gaze, “do you know how hard it is to breathe when you’re around me?” you’re silent as a tear falls on your cheek, Eddie wipes it away with his finger curled inward, “you’re so beautiful it’s suffocating.”

Pendulum like necklace still swinging, you grab it in a fist and pull him into you, kissing him so abruptly a noise splutters from his lips as yours collide with his, tongues sliding sweetly in a waltz. It’s perfect. He’s perfect. Your body is tingling all over for him. An itch only he can scratch, hungry for him, a desire that you haven’t felt for anyone swells in your chest.

Your legs are spread wide to feel the full weight of his body mass on yours, an odd but satisfying comfort all the same. His scent surrounds you. Hints of Marlboros reds and tangy weed mixed with the burnt notes of cedar and amber. He’s consuming all of your five senses, and you’re broken with his touch, swayed by his tongue in your mouth and his fingers holding the back of your neck, swirling in the hair at the base of your head.

His fingers fall from your hair, tracing lines across your shoulder blades as delicate as snowflakes falling on your eyelashes, strumming lightly across the strap of your bra. Humming against his lips you whisper a whimpered plea to him. Deft fingers coax the straps out of the way, and his lips leave yours kissing your cheeks and making a path of wet lips and sloppy sweet kisses to your shoulder, spending lazy minutes soaking up every inch of your exposed skin. Letting you know with each pucker of his lips how important you are to him. Repeating the same slow motion on the other side, you are heated up. Tingling with butterflies drugged with cocaine in your core, throbbing for more of his touch. You are an addict for him. Eddie— your drug of choice.

Arching your back as he inches his way down your body, his large hands wrap around you, unclasping the bra from itself in expert speed, the relief around your rib cage is audible as you let out a small sigh, Eddie’s curls tickle your bare stomach as he sits up. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath as he’s on his knees between your legs, his hands on his thighs, lips kissed red and pretty, dark eyes searching yours, your bra laying on top of you barely covering your boobs, nipples peaked and ready for their debut under the black silk fabric, your arms still jailed by the straps.

He cocks a smile as you wiggle your arms out of the straps, keeping eye contact with him during the entire performance, thanking a higher power your arms didn’t get stuck in your pursuit of nudity. The bra drops from your pointed fingers like a used tissue on Eddie’s blanket, your lips twist upward with a grin when his eyes go wide at the sight of your tits on display. A bountiful feast of perky nipples and soft skin, still sporting last summer's fading tan lines.

Eddie’s adam apple bobs in his throat like a gear shift slammed into third, eyes wide as he mutters, “Jesus Christ,” to himself. Taking in your doughy tits, heaving like soft cinnamon rolls fresh out of the oven. Eddie is practically drooling at the sight of you beneath him.

Dragging his fingers up your curved sides, sending goose bumps in his wake, he cups the tender skin on either side of your boobs, squeezing the pudding-esque cups softly, bringing his face downward towards your chest. One fleeting look from his chocolate eyes to yours and you’re a puddle of melted ice cream. His touch is burrowed into your skin like radiation, his rough calloused hands feel like a cheese grater against your buttery skin. A sensation that has you moaning out loud once his tongue kitten licks one of your nipples and his hot breath blows gently against it, a warm breeze before a thunderstorm on wet sidewalk, flooding your panties at his touch.

He whimpers at your lacy moans, his mouth humming against you, face flush with your nipples as he rubs his tongue back and forth. Giving fair attention to your other nipple he repeats the process, his large hands engulfing your jelloy tits as his expert tongue teases you again and again. The sudden nip of his pearl teeth on your perked mound sends vibrations of electricity to your core.

He’s grinding down into you, and you gasp at his girthy length driving into your body.

Nimble fingers work his belt through the buckle between your two bodies, your appetite only increasing with each sucking bruise into your skin. Eddie follows suit and works fast against your zipper, breaking contact to pull your jeans off by the legs. A wet spot in your panties has him licking his lips, stroking himself beneath denim and cotton.

Eddie wastes no time when he grabs the delicate, silky black fabric on your hips and pulls them downward.

“Holy fuck,” he groans, when your pussy lips cling to the wet fabric, his dick kicks up in his boxer briefs, an impressive show of its own. He slides them down your legs and tosses them onto his dresser.

Lowering himself to your sex his hot breath lingers like smoke on water as he speaks, “if you don’t like something I’m doing— tell me.”

He waits for your nod of approval, which you give innocently. And when he lowers his mouth down to your heated center, fireworks explode behind your eyes.

His name falls from your lips at the first touch of his tongue. It plunges into your velvet drenched folds, and a symphony of whispered breaths and moans shuffle around the room colliding and mixing with the flick of Eddie’s tongue and the curve of his lips suckling on your clit.

Your hands fly to his hair, holding him tight like reins while riding a horse, you pull when it feels good, rubbing softly to dull the pain, and his eliciting moans send currants down to the tips of your toes. It’s shockingly arousing when you take a peak at Eddie between your legs, Dr. Pepper eyes carbonated with lust and desire. Trained on your face as it twists with pleasure and smooths into a smile when his devilish tongue strokes you in the right way, fast then slow, eager but coy, taking his time, expertly bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Just having his mouth on you, feeling him vibrate as the muscle of his long tongue wiggles its way into your center, has your hands frenzied in his curls, nerve endings exploding with each flick of his tongue.

You’ve seen it in movies, heard about it from friends, Robin even being so kind as to go into explicit detail on how it’s done. But much like the kiss, you’ve never encountered the sensation of a lover’s tongue between your legs.

It’s mind altering, blissfully creeping closer to the edge of an orgasm as Eddie laps at your weeping folds. You’re whimpering at his touch, one hot hand holding your hip in place as your back arches from the mattress, the other replacing his tongue in your center, the stretch of his one finger makes him groan, whispered breaths against your core. It’s a pleasurable pain, welcomed by his wet tongue. It could be mistaken as an exorcism the way you're frantically canting your hips as his tongue rolls against your clit again and again. The deep moans choking out from your throat, tornadoing with his pleasantries and whispered praises, and that's when you break.

Every color, every shade, every hue unfolds in your vision against the black of your eyelids. Writhing beneath Eddie you ride out your high against his face, he dips impossibly deeper, connecting your souls with each slow drip of your arousal onto his tongue.

“Fuck,” he whimpers, his hands still gripping your hips loosening them to rub your soft thighs down to the bend in your knee. He sits up, kissing your thigh he murmurs, “so sweet, so beautiful baby.”

Your cheeks heat with his words, blooming across your face and spreading warmly in your chest. Opening your eyes for the first time since your orgasm, you peek at Eddie. His hair is a mess from your hands yanking on it. A pretty sheen of your slick is painted on his lips. His hooded eyes dip to yours as he plants wet kisses to your soft thigh.

Wiggling from his grasp, you sit up, pressing your lips to the column of his throat, your fingers working to push down his jeans and the waistband of his underwear. “Eddie,” you plead against his sweaty skin, “I need you,”

Arms tangled around your bodies, his lips lock with yours and a moan escapes his throat, the salty tang of your arousal mixes on your tongues. Shoving his pants down his legs and kicking his feet from them in a fevered effort, Eddie lays you down against the soft mattress, his face hesitant, concern lacing his prominent features. Eyes almost watery with turmoil.

Holding a warm delicate hand up to his cheek you coax him to look at you, your voice wavering between frantic and needy, “Eddie, what’s wrong?”

He shakes his head, the thick of his cock is heavy against your thigh, and by the sheer weight of it, you knew he wasn’t lying about the length.

“Tooty— I, I don’t want to hurt you.” You know by the look in his eye he isn’t talking mentally, “you’re…and I’m—”

“Please,” you beg, “I want you,” slinking your fingers between your two bodies, you reach for his cock and gasp at the girthy length of soft skin as you rub it back and forth with the palm of your hand, the tips of your fingers sliding against the bulging mushroom head of his cock.

“Fuck,” he moans, biting his bottom lip, his eyes open and turn hungry, all color flushing from them but revealing the deepest onyx hue outside of the Milky Way. Adjusting your legs around him, opening wide, he lowers his head and dribbles a stringy line of spit to his dick, smearing it slightly with his thumb, easing it towards your entrance.

The smallest push of his hips has your breath suffocating in your lungs. His lips capture yours in a sweet kiss as he whimpers at your noises and the way your heated center pulls him in deeper. Clenching around him, he’s stretching your walls to full capacity with every inching of his hips.

Lips breathe air into one another as Eddie hovers over you, two faces twisted in egregious pleasure, moans coating the walls and so sugary sweet they could peel wallpaper.

Each thickened inch pressing inside of you brings endorphins to your brain, swelling your body full of Eddie. His arms quiver and his lip is almost bit in half when he finally bottoms out. A final guttural groan releases from him and you pull him down to you, sealing the triumph with a kiss and speaking against his lips letting him know he could move.

The first drag out has you suddenly feeling empty and lonely, almost pouting at the gone fullness, Eddie hisses when he pushes back in, muttering explicits into your ear as you fill his with sappy whines and whimpers.

“Doing so good for me sweetheart, sh— oh fuck,” sucking him deeper inside your gummy walls Eddie bucks his hips to a steady rhythm, covering your cheeks in kisses as you tangle your fingers in his curls, heavenly moans surround him like a halo— held up by fire colored horns dipped in black as he licks his lips and picks up the pace.

His heavy sack slaps against you almost clapping along with his thrusts as you yell his name. Tits bouncing circularly with each punch of his cock into you. He groans when your nails dig into his shoulders, eight pinked lines marking where wings would be as you fly higher and higher together.

“I’m not— Christ— I’m not gonna last here much longer baby, where do y—” he groans when you swirl your tongue around his thumb, “fuck!” He pumps harder into you and before you can say anything you’re both coming undone. Screams and moans surround the four walls as Eddie paints your insides with his cum, your pussy clenching and sucking him in, a harmonious symphony of deep abated emotions shatter down walls and engulf you both as Eddie collapses on top of you. His sweaty hair tenting round both of your faces as you both pant into eachother. Love circulating the air with tiny hearts and fluttering wings.

You’re exhausted, mentally and physically. A feeling you could certainly get used to. Eddie was so caring, so sweet. The high of your second ever orgasm still throbbing in your core and leaking down onto Eddie as you shut your eyes.

Sleep envelops you both as Eddie rolls you on top of him, kissing your nose and rubbing your naked back with the tips of his fingers, he’s still inside you, his softened length growing tired and motionless as the delicate cotton of a cool sheet hits your shoulders and your skin.

His chest is warm and slicked with sweat against your cheek, a softened lullaby of his heart beating puts you to sleep in no time.

Eddie’s a mess. Wondering if he just messed everything up. Were you comfortable? Did you enjoy yourself? Judging by the noises you were making and screaming his name he would normally think yes, indeed you had. But this was new to him. Being so deeply in love with someone and sharing the most intimate sex he had ever had. Light snores assure him that you’re okay, in a peaceful sleep, your inner demons tucked away for the night.

On the cusp of dreaming you hear it.

It’s whispered. Barely audible. But it’s there. Butterflies kiss the crown of your head and rub your back with soft petal-like wings.

“I love you, angel girl, always have— always will.”

readmore line haaaay

see you in the prequel: 1985

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #fic recs #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie fan fiction

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soapskneebrace · 6 months

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imprimatura

muses - part one - next

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x f!Reader Word Count: 2.8k Rating: Mature (mostly Soap being Soap) Warnings: please see this post for notes about this reader character Also on Ao3.

An artist meets her muse, and a solider meets his.

He arrives early as you’re setting up for your students, in jeans and a tight t-shirt, and the first thing that crosses your mind when you lay eyes on him is Jesus, he’s fit.

You are no stranger to bodies. Hundreds of them have cycled through your studio, all shapes and sizes and colors; you think you may know every dip, every roll, every hard angle and soft curve that a human body is capable of holding. The mystique of defined muscle has long lost its novelty. Bodies are bodies, and each holds the same value as the next when subject to brush and canvas. It never matters, you teach your students, what a body looks like in the modeling chair. It only matters if they can reproduce it accurately.

Even so, when a body like this walks in, you really can’t help but take notice.

Decadent muscle, fed and worked well, round and full with hydration. It’s impossible to miss, even through his clothes; each group delineated clearly, gracefully, as if sculpted rather than built, and alive with soft, subcutaneous movement. It’s indulgent to look at, the comfortable breadth of his shoulders and chest down to that slight taper of his waist and bulk of his thick thighs. It’s a physique no hard-bodied gym rat could hope to achieve merely with extra time at the racks—a physique that is easily, harmoniously attractive in its makeup of muscle and healthy fat.

The man is also mohawked and suntanned, and his mouth rests at an angle that suggests he often smiles—as if he knows that Michelangelo would have swooned at the sight of him. He comes into your classroom, saunters over to you, and stops precisely two paces away from you.

“Sergeant John MacTavish,” he says, offering his hand. “I understand you’re the instructor?”

He has gorgeous, vivid blue eyes (pthalo and cremnitz, with a touch of hamsa). You blink several times. Fit is still rattling around your skull, and begins knocking against sergeant at the same rolling frequency as his warm Scottish brogue. You realize his hand is still outstretched and quickly take it to shake.

“Yes!” you say. His palm is tough, callused, and not soft in the slightest, but very warm. “Nice to meet you, sergeant.”

He gives a grimace. “John’s fine. Or Soap.”

“Soap?”

“Nickname, y’know.”

Neither of you have released from the handshake. Soap’s grip is firm, the kind of firm that suggests he can squeeze much, much tighter if he needs to. And if the grip isn’t any indication, the broad forearms, dusted soft with dark brown hair, certainly are.

Black lines, a sword and helmet framed in laurels, catch your notice. The ink has the soft edges of having lain in the skin for a few years. You turn his arm to see it more fully. “Oh. Nice tattoo.”

He looks at the ink as if it is entirely new to him, and then gives an easy grin. “Thanks. I’ve got a few more too. Hope they aren’t hard to draw.”

When you loosen your grip on his hand, he releases you immediately. You still feel the squeeze in your bones even as you drop your hand to your side.

“So, then, Soap,” you say, “have you ever modeled before?”

He shakes his head, tucking his hands into the front pockets of his low-slung jeans. It tugs the waistband just a bit, revealing a sliver of warm, tan skin (raw sienna, flesh ochre, naples yellow). “Should have, honestly, with how much it pays.”

“It gets very boring, very fast,” you say. “What do you plan to wear for the breaks?”

“Was I supposed to bring that m’self?”

You are unable to suppress a laugh. “Yes, unfortunately.”

“Oh,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck and going a little sheepish—as if expecting a reprimand. You suppose it’s a valid expectation to have, in his world. You aren’t terribly familiar with the military, but you do know it’s one hell of a stickler for rules.

You also can’t help but admire the appealing pull and stretch of his bicep and deltoid, the flex of his pectoral as he lowers his arm.

“Why don’t you wait here, and I’ll go see if I can find something for you?” you suggest kindly, letting him off the hook.

“Sorry,” he says, pretty blue eyes filled with genuine apology. “I’ll remember nex’ time. Thanks.”

The expression is so hangdog that you almost want to pat his head and noise at him reassuringly, like an actual dog. You press your lips together to hide a smile, and leave the studio.

When you get back from the models’ changing room, you find Soap with one hip against the counter where you’d been organizing your supplies, one knee loose and shoulders set at a relaxed angle. You want to laugh at his easy contrapposto. He’s going to be an excellent model. You can feel it.

It looks as if he’s moving around the sticks of vine charcoal with one outstretched finger; he pulls his hand guiltily away when you reenter the studio, crossing his arms over his chest as if to hide the evidence of his snooping. It makes his pectorals bunch and round out, gathers the thickness of his biceps up into chiseled, full definition.

You lift one brow at him as you walk over.

“Never could keep my hands to m’self,” he admits, still sheepish.

“It’s alright,” you allow, smiling back. “Do you draw?”

“Used to,” he says. He looks back at the charcoal. “No time, now.”

“Are you deployed often?” you ask, taking the opportunity to look at his face.

Beauty is cheap in art, but you notice it all the same—appreciate the strong brows, the hard angle of his jaw, the dark stubble of a beard you suspect he can’t keep shaved down, and the long scar that cuts through it across his chin. The light brown of his complexion is speckled with sun exposure, and there are the faintest of creases at the corners of his eyes, which you expect will deepen into genuine, gorgeous crow’s feet as he ages.

He’s not all rugged, though. There is a soft, thick curl to his lashes, which are as dark as strong coffee or expensive chocolate, and an equal decadence to the pink, plush little swell of his bottom lip—which, in the very middle, has the smallest of divots, as if he regularly spends time biting it.

They’re traits that are far too sweet to belong on an otherwise masculine face, and their effect is such that they turn an objectively average set of features into a shockingly attractive portrait—that suddenly has something fluttering, just a bit, in the roof of your stomach.

He looks at you, and catches your survey. You can see him realize you’d been watching, the knowledge of it blooming in ocean blue eyes like ink dropped onto linen.

“More often than no’,” he answers, showing teeth in a crooked, interested grin. And now he’s looking at you—attention flitting across your face, dropping down your body and jumping back up to meet your gaze. The creases deepen at the corners of his eyes.

The fluttering intensifies. The sudden role reversal has you feeling at once flustered and unmoored. You are never the subject of any perusal—always comfortably the observer.

“Well—” you try, and you’re embarrassed at the low tone of your voice. You clear your throat. “Well, let’s make use of the time we have you, then.”

His smile remains, cocksure and easy. “Let’s.”

He knows the effect he’s had.

“Anyway,” you say, blinking several times and proffering the sheet you’d retrieved, “none of the other models are your size, so I’m afraid this will have to do.”

He takes it in his hands, which are sun-dark and striking against the clean white linen. “So it’s a toga, then?” he asks.

“Whatever you like. Let’s go over the basics, and then you can undress.”

“Oh, already, aye? Y’move fast, hen,” he drawls, still grinning. “I like it.”

Heat rushes to your face, but you don’t feel embarrassed enough not to laugh. You busy yourself with tapping your charcoal sticks back in place, putting them back in an even row ascending in order of length, and saving yourself from having to look him in the eye. “Ha! We don’t do a lot of foreplay in this studio, I’m afraid.”

“No?” Soap hums, and he steps closer. He’s very warm, enough that you can feel it even with the space between you. You do have to look at him then. His eyes are half-lidded, lashes casting pretty shadows on his cheekbones as he gazes down at you. “That’s a shame. I’m right partial to it.”

Your brows lift, and you will your pulse to remain steady even as you inhale, catching a thread of—cologne? Aftershave? Just plain deodorant?—coming off of him. The scent caresses you, almost beckoning you to lean forward. You swear you can see the thrum of his heartbeat, there in the soft hollows by his Adam’s apple.

You blink. He is your model. “Well—I’ll try to set you up as best I can, anyway. Follow me, please.”

And you turn your back on him, because this is your workplace, and you are at work, and if you don’t get on with things you might do something stupid like actually flirt back.

Soap hadn’t been sure what to expect when he arrived at the art studio. He’s never been to one before, much less one housed in a university—which he has also never been to—and hell, he only ever took one art class in high school.

If pressed, he’d have imagined old brick walls covered in diagram posters, shelves of supplies in all colors, the smell of paint hanging permanently in the air. What he finds instead is modern, clean, and impersonal. Stage lights hang from fixtures in the ceiling, pointing at a platform in the back center of the room. A tight line of easels, all folded up, stand pressed into a far corner, next to a tower of stacked chairs, and waist-high cabinets line half the room against the bare, painted cinder block wall. The linoleum floor looks new.

None of this, however, has any opportunity to disappoint him. His final unmet expectation, standing across the room and organizing a tray of art supplies, is a very welcome surprise.

You’re bonnie. Like, every point on his wishlist bonnie. Christ, he must’ve done something really good lately, because he can’t imagine just lucking into this. There’s not a hard angle to you, all sweet and soft, but when you meet his gaze during introductions there’s a sharpness to you that skewers him through the chest. You are much smarter than him, he can tell immediately.

He’s always had a thing for smart women. Soft ones, too. And if that weren’t enough, you let him flirt shamelessly with you, while checking him out the whole time.

Steaming Jesus.

You direct him to get onto the platform and sit down, still clothed, in an armchair draped in another pristine white sheet. The stage lights are bright overhead, and they highlight free-floating wisps of your hair in gold.

“You want to ensure that you don’t rest your weight on only one or two points,” you explain. You have a nice voice. Steady, confident—this is your territory, your studio, and in it you are clearly the master. “The main danger is that your arms or legs might fall asleep, and you won’t realize it until you get up, in which case you’ll fall. We can’t touch you, so we can’t save you from that.”

“Y’canna touch me?” Soap repeats.

“Not without your explicit consent,” you say.

He smiles at you, the kind of smile he saves for bright nights at the pub over platoons of shot glasses. “I explicitly consent to you touching me.”

The corners of your mouth tug upward, just a bit, and you look away, clearly bashful. Something in Soap’s chest starts beating a drum. He knows already he’ll ask you to drinks after the class ends tonight.

“I doubt I’d be able to do much,” you say, “you’re a bit more substantial than the usual models.” Your eyes flick down his torso and back up.

“Guess I’ll have to follow your advice, then,” he says.

“You should,” you say, and he looks at your thigh shamelessly as you pat it—even beneath your jeans, he can see the ripple of the impact. “One of the worst-case scenarios is nerve damage.”

“So you have done this before!”

He can’t help it—Soap’s imagination runs wild. Titanic, draw-me-like-one-of-your-French-girls wild. It’s not exactly polite to imagine a teacher naked while she’s in the middle of giving him directions (and Jesus, what a concept, he might be half-mast already), but Soap has always found that people like it when he’s a little rude.

You drum your fingers. “I have.”

He finally hears the nerve damage part of your instruction. “How, uh—how bad can it get?”

The drumming stops. “For me? It just starts to twinge a bit if I sit on this side very long. So don’t rest your weight all on one hip, yeah?”

Concern assuaged that he had not ignored your genuine pain in order to objectify you, Soap grins. “Yeah.”

“Good,” you say. “Also—even if it doesn’t hurt, Soap, you can stop at any time, okay?”

That has him blinking. “Kinda defeats the purpose, doesnae?”

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter. This is your first time modeling. You don’t know how you’ll feel, sitting here with your clothes off and everyone looking at you. If you need to stop, I want you to stop. I’ll make sure you’re paid anyway, so don’t worry about that.”

You are…so serious about this. The line of your brows is furrowed, imploring, like a little discomfort on his part is a violation of the highest order.

“Sure,” he says, a little dumbstruck and mostly lying. He’d be a rubbish soldier if he tapped out of a little thing like sitting down, but it’s nice that you care.

You purse your lips, nod, and then move onto the task at hand, stepping back and then down off the platform. When you begin to survey him—gaze flitting up and down his body, more pensive than appreciative—he has to resist the urge to flex.

Instead he watches you as you look at him. He especially likes, he decides, the slope of your nose and the smart, serious press of your mouth. You could get him all turned around, he thinks, if you gave it half a try.

Your tits are also great, but that’s by the by.

“Try resting your elbow up a little higher, and twist at the hips a bit,” you instruct, and Soap obeys. “Hm. How would you feel about crossing your ankles?”

You continue like this—nudging him in directions he doesn’t think make all that much of a difference, standing in different positions around the room to check the angles. He half-wishes he could step out of his body and join you, curious as he is about what you’re seeing, what your students will see. He’s not sure he has any clear expectations for how the class will go, but if you’re any indication, it’ll be more fun than he expects.

“Not sure if I’ll remember how to get back into this,” he says, partly to be helpful and partly to get you to talk to him again.

“I’ll help you, don’t worry,” you say. “Okay, I think that’s a good one, you can move now—I’m going to start setting up, the students should be here any minute.”

He stands, and you turn away to collect your supplies, so Soap figures this means it’s time for him to strip. He pulls off his shirt and drapes it over the chair’s arm, unbuttons his pants and shoves them down to his knees.

“Soap!”

He freezes. Then he looks at you. You’re blushing again, deep and saturated, mouth parted in surprise and hand pressed to your chest. He does not miss the quick flick of your gaze down his body; he’s probably violated some rule or another of the studio, but he can’t help but grin.

You’re adorable.

“Gotta happen eventually, right?” he says.

You cover your face with your palm. “I was going to leave the room first!”

“First time someone’s wanted to run away when I’m takin’ my clothes off, I won’t lie—”

“You just come get me when you’re done!” you say hastily as you beeline for the door. “I’ll be right outside!”

Soap chuckles a little when you’re gone, the door slamming mortified behind you, and folds his clothes up behind the armchair he’ll be sitting in. You’re so cute. He can’t wait to sit naked for you for the next three hours.

And he’s definitely asking you out for drinks.

Author's Note: THE PROMISED FIC. I really hope y'all enjoy this one, I've been teasing it since March and I have so many plans. This fic has a special place in my heart because it's drawing heavily from my college days--my bachelor's degree is in fine arts, and I have a lot of fond memories of many hours in the studio both as a student and as a model.

I expect this series will also have a looser timeline than my Neighbors series, so I'm open to suggestion in terms of scene ideas! I already have plenty, but if I know my mutuals, y'all might have some good ones as well. No promises I'll write them, but you never know.

Thanks everyone for your patience, and I hope you'll look forward to where this fic goes!!

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vixeneptune · 6 months

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Askfirmations ♡

♡ Why am I so amazing? I'm naturally the best and never compete or compare myself to anyone

♡ Why am I so powerful? My aura naturally radiates immense power , is that why I keep getting everything I want? Or why nobody ever messes with me?

♡ Why do I feel so confident all the time like its my permanent state of being? I believe in myself so much that my confidence is literally unshakable.

♡ how do I keep getting everything I want? It's like the universe conspires in my favor and the world has my back 24/7

♡ omg why am I so freaking gorgeous?! Seriously I'm always stunned when I see my reflection like wow how am I so pretty i look unreal?

♡ Why am I such a money magnet? Attracting money is literally the easiest thing, why is it so effortless for me? Like I never worry about money bc it comes to me abundantly from multiple sources.

♡ Why am I so damn lucky? Why do I keep winning everytime at EVERYTHING? the word failure doesn't exist in my dictionary.

♡ ugh why is everyone so obsessed with me? Like I'm easily the most popular person everywhere I go. How come everyone knows my name and treats me like their fav person ? Idk why but I'm always the one who gets most attention and people literally chase me and desperately wanna be with me and I don't even try ?!? Why do I have so many secret admirers and so many people confessing their feelings for me ? Is it bc im so charming and magnetic that people can't help but fall in love with me instantly?

♡ Why am I always invited to events and hangouts like my presence is a must? People love being around me and talking to me so much. Why does everyone say I have an amazing vibe and they love my energy ? Honestly one of my fav compliments but its also like just being seen with me and being around me is a privilege

♡ Why are my eyes so big and feline? Why does everyone compliment my eyes? Why are they so mesmerizing and gorgeous? 😍

♡ Why is my skin so clear and hydrated? Like its so smooth and lifted and perfect I'm so amazed!

♡ Why are my lips so plump and perfect? I love how kissable and full they look!

♡ Why does my hair grow soo fast?? Its crazy like my hair is so long now. Why is it so thick and soft and perfect? Everyone compliments my hair

♡ Why are my eyebrows always on fleek? Like they look naturally perfect

♡ Why is my face so pretty like its sculpted by the angels? Why is my face so symmetrical and harmonious? I look naturally stunning like I don't need makeup or filters.

♡ Why does my face look EXACTLY like my desired face now? It's uncanny how much I resemble Megan fox and Adriana Lima

♡ why is it so easy for me to lose weight? I always lose weight so fast bc I have such a fast metabolism. Why does my body look so snatched? I don't even need to work out and I have the body of a model! Why does my butt look so good? Why are my arms and legs fit and toned and why is stomach so flat?

♡ Why is my face so slim? I have the most sculpted defined gorgeous face 😍 why does everyone stare at me like they're mesmerised by my beauty?

♡ Why is my nose so tiny and small and perfect? I literally have the cutest nose and I love it!

♡ Why does everyone say I remind them of tomie with how captivating , alluring and mysteriously beautiful I am ? Why do people say I remind them of a Siren ? So magnetic with high sex appeal

♡ Why does everyone love spoiling me so much and giving me princess/royalty treatment? Is it bc i have pretty privilege? Why do men open doors for me and gift me expensive things and they keep pursuing me and trying to impress me? Why am I always desired and wanted by everyone ? My energy inspires men to spoil and please me. There's something about me that naturally pulls people in like a magnet, maybe it's my energy or my personality or my beauty.

♡ why is it so easy for me to make friends and attract lovers and people like a magnet? I don't even try but somehow I always end up having so many great genuine connections with others and I have so many loyal friends.

♡ ugh why am I so freaking sexy? Like I have that dangerous sex appeal that fuels everyone around me with desire and lust for me (I'm always safe tho) but srsly I'm so hot it should be illegal 🥵

♡ Why do I keep looking younger and prettier as I age ? am I a vampire or something cuz i never age😂 people always think I'm 18 years old

♡ Why is my life so amazing? Why do good things keep happening to me? Why is it that everyday something wonderful happens? Why is life so easy and fun for me? It's like a game rigged in my favor. Why does my life keep getting better and better? Every aspect in my life is going so well! I feel so fulfilled and so grateful. I mean I'm literally living my dream life right now!

♡ why am i so blessed in every way? I'm rich, pretty, in the best relationship with the love of my life, I have amazing friends and family, I'm so successful and recognised for it, I'm such a catch and an honor to be associated with, I have so many admirers and I'm a great influencer, I'm so sexy and drop dead gorgeous, i have a fun addictive personality, im healthy and fit with the sexiest toned body, I'm constantly surrounded by love and support, im lucky, a powerful manifestor, I'm literally perfect, such a flawless beauty. I have it all

♡ Why do I have such amazing privileges? All I be doing is exist and I get everything I want , everything is handed to me. Why do I get things for free? I don't even have to try, why is it so easy for me to get my way? I think I'm just so charismatic and charming and pretty it's impossible to deny me

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themodernwitchsguide · 10 months

Text

the egyptian gods

MA'AT: the essence of harmony and balance

in the beginning, well, there were a lot of different beginnings,

AMUN/AMUN-RA: god of the sun and air, supreme king of the gods in some periods. some stories say that he created himself and then everything else in the universe

ATUM: sometimes considered another name for Ra, but when separated he represents the evening sun. he was the first of the Ennead to emerge from Nu, and was the supreme ruler of the gods, and creator of the universe and human beings

RA/RE: when separated from Atum, he represents the midday sun, but other stories say that his aspect changes as he advances his sun barge across the sky. also considered the supreme ruler and creator of the universe. later merged with Amun as he rose in popularity

PTAH: another creator of the universe, Ptah was lord of truth, and the patron god of sculptors and craftsmen (since he was considered to have sculpted the earth). he created the first mound of earth from Nu by imagining it in his heart and breathed life into things with his voice

KHNUM: said to have created everything on his potter's wheel. in a different story he created humans on his potter's wheel then raised them up to the sun so that Ra could breathe life into them

NEITH: a war and funerary goddess, she created all things from her innards. she invented birth, therefore considered the "mother goddess" and closely associated with life and living things

MUT: emerged from Nu and gave birth to the world on her own, or in other stories was the wife of Amun. she was a goddess of protection, guarding humans in life, and against demons in death

MEHET-WERET: celestial cow goddess that emerged from Nu and gave birth to Ra at the beginning of time. goddess of water, creation, and rebirth

then under Atum/Ra creation stories, there were the first gods, called the Ennead,

SHU: the primordial god of air, he was born from Atum/Ra with his sister Tefnut to create the world. it's said that after bein gone for so long, Atum/Ra sent the eye of Ra to search for them, and his tears of happiness at having them returned became humans

TEFNUT: the sister and wife of Shu, she was the primordial god of moisture and rainfall

NUT: child of Shu and Tefnut, she represented the sky, but her relationship with her brother Geb disturbed Atum/Ra so he pushed her high above Geb, decreeing that she could not give birth on any day of the year. however, Thoth then gambled with Iah (or Khonsu) winning five days of moonlight he transformed into days. On those five days, her five children were born

GEB: god of the earth and growing things

OSIRIS: child of Nut and Geb, he was lord and god of the underworld and afterlife. he was said to be the first god to die, after being killed by his brother Set, wherein Isis then resurrected him and they bore Horus.

ISIS: child of Nut and Geb, she was the goddess of the moon, healing, fertility, and magic

NEPHTHYS: child of Nut and Geb, she is the twin sister of Isis and wife of Set. she is considered a goddess of funeral rites, darkness (not in an evil sense), and protector of women.

SET/SETH: child of Nut and Geb god of war, chaos, and storms. although he was the first murderer, he was considered a necessary balance to the good of Osiris. he killed Osiris to usurp his throne, only to later be usurped by Horus.

However, sometimes Set was replaced with Horus in the Ennead,

HORUS: technically there were two Horuses, Horus the Elder, who was a child of Nut and Geb, and Horus the younger, who was the better known Horus. however, they ended up merging into one deity, a god of the sun, sky, and kingship

under the Amun (and sometimes Ptah) creation myth(s) there was the group called the Ogdoad, including Amun and

AMUNET: the female counterpart of Amun, together they represented forces unseen, including the wind and air

KEK: the god of the hours before dawn, he guided the sun barge of Ra from the underworld to earth

KAUKET: the female aspect of Kek, she represented the hours after sunset, and guided the sun barge of Ra into the underworld. Together these gods represent darkness (but not in an evil way)

HEH AND HAUHET: often not separated in any meaningful way, these two were the gods of infinity, eternity, and time

NUN AND NAUNET: personification of the primordial waters, from which everything was created. Naunet is only ever referenced when it comes to the Ogdoad

However, when Amun became revered as a god of creation, him and Amunet were sometimes replaced by

NIA AND NIAT: gods of the void

so then the rest of the gods,

THOTH: advisor of Atum/Ra, he was the god of wisdom, writing, and truth, and was associated with the moon. sometimes he is the child of Atum/Ra, other times he is the son of Horus. he gave humanity the gift of language and marked the passage of time

SESHAT: consort of Thoth, she was the goddess of writing, books, and measurements

ANUBIS: son of Nephthys and Osiris, he was the god of the dead and associated with embalming. he leads the souls of the dead to the Hall of Truth and weighs their heart to determine if they were good or evil

KABECHET/QEBEHT: daughter of Anubis and a funerary deity. she provides cool, pure water to the souls awaiting judgement in the Hall of Truth

BASTET: daughter of Ra, although her image has tempered over time, Bastet was often considered a defender of pharaohs and the hearth. goddess of cats, women, and fertility

SEKHMET: sister of Bastet, she was goddess of destruction, justice, and desert winds. after Ra became tired of the sins of humanity, he sent Sekhmet to destroy them. she ravaged the land until the other gods implored Ra to stop her, where he took beer dyed red (to emulate blood) and left it at Dendera. when she drank it, she fell asleep and woke as the benevolent goddess Hathor

MAAHES: solar god and protector of the innocent, sometimes the son of Bastet, sometimes Sekhmet

HATHOR: goddess of joy, celebration, love, women, drunkenness, and sometimes animals. in some stories she is the wife of Horus the elder, in some Horus the younger, and in some Ra

MA'AT: embodiment of the principle of ma'at, she was the goddess of truth, justice, and harmony

KHONSU: the son of Amun and Mut, god of the moon and healing

MONTU: a god of war and the vitality of pharaohs, he was later replaced by Khonsu as a child of Amun and Mut

TENENIT: goddess of beer and brewing, consort of Montu

HEKA: patron god of magic and medicine, but was also said to be present at the creation of the universe

HU: god of the spoken word, personification of the first word Atum/Ra ever spoke. represented the tongue

SIA: personification of perception and thoughtfulness who represented the heart

ANAT: goddess of fertility, sexuality, love, and war. sometimes she is a virgin goddess, others she is sensuous and erotic

APEP/APOPHIS: the celestial serpent that would assault the sun barge of Ra every night as it travels through the underworld

BA-PEF: god of terror

BES/BISU/AHA: god of childbirth, fertility, sexuality, humor, and war. he protected women and children, fended off evil, and fought for divine justice

TAWERET/TAURET: considered a consort of Set, goddess of childbirth and fertility. guarded children and invoked to help with pregnancy and birth

HRAF-HAF: the ferryman of the dead, he would carry good souls across the Lily Lake to the shores of paradise in the Field of Reeds

AMENET: consort of the divine ferryman, she welcomed souls of the dead to afterlife with food and drink

FETKET: cupbearer of Ra, patron of bartenders

MAFDET: goddess of justice, protected people from venomous bites, later replaced by Serket

SERKET: goddess of protection and funerals, protected people against venom

HEDET: goddess of scorpions and protector against their venom

IHY: son of Hathor and Horus the elder, he was the god of music and joy

IMHOTEP: the deified vizier of the king Djoser, god of wisdom and medicine

MESKHENIT: goddess of childbirth, created a person's ka (life force) and breathed it into them, creating their destiny

NEHEBKAU: joined a persons ka to their body at birth, and with the ba (winged aspect of the soul) at death. has always existed, and swam in the primordial waters before Atum rose

NEFERTUM: god of perfume and beauty, said to be born from the bud of a blue lotus flower at the beginning of creation. associated with rebirth and transformation due to his association with Atum

RENENUTET: goddess of nursing children and the harvest. she determined the length of a person's life and the important events that would occur, sometimes considered the mother of Osiris as consort of Atum

NEPER: son of Renenutet, god of grain and fertility

ONURIS/ANHUR: a son of Ra, god of war and hunting

SHAY: personification of fate, no one could alter her decisions

SHED: god who protected against wild animals and mortal enemies

SHEZMU: god of wine, perfume and plenty

SOBEK: god of water and medicine, namely surgery. lord of marshes and wetlands

SOTHIS/SOPDET: astral form of Isis, represented the star Sirius

SAH: astral form of Osiris, represented the constellation Orion

SOPDU: son of Sothis and Sah, astral form of Horus, guarded over outposts and soldiers on the frontier

TAYET/TAIT: goddess of weaving and associated with embalming

WENEG: held up the sky and maintained balance between the heavens and earth

WEPWAWET: the "opener of ways," a funerary and hunter god

KHENTYAMENTIU: the "Chief of the Dead," a funerary god believed to have created important funerary rites

and the sons of Horus, who get their own special spot,

DUAMUTEF: protector god of the stomach, he represented East

HAPY: protector god of the lungs, he represented the North

IMSETY: protector god of the liver, he represented the South

QEBEHSENUEF: protector god of the intestines, he represented the West

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bleuside97 · 8 months

Text

That Night Was Different

paring: richclubowner!Jungkook x lonely reader

genre: one night stand au smut

summary: looking for excitement you unexpectedly found someone who gave you everything you had wished for.

warnings: smut, n*pple play, coochie eating, praising kink.

This month was no doubt one of the most difficult for you. You maintained a stable position in retail that provided you with a satisfactory income, just enough for taking care of your bills. Unfortunately, it was announced to you that due to some financial struggles, the company had to let some employees go, including you. As a strong and resilient woman, however, you refused to give up and started looking for other jobs. But no luck seemed to be on your side, and to make matters worse, your landlord raised the rent. So, overwhelmed by all the stress, you decided to head to a young upscale club called "Dionysus." in Central Seoul, South Korea. To have some drinks to forget all your worries for a while. You've been coming here everyday for a month. The same night every night.

On a cold Saturday night you were sitting alone at the bar. "Alone yet again." Y/n muttered under her breath to herself. Being an introvert for so long has had its benefits but right now you were met with the down sides. In such an uplifted environment you couldn't help but feel drained. You didn't know why but you suddenly didn't want to be there anymore. Your eyes advert to the sixth shot glass you ordered and just been placed in front of you. For a moment you only stare at the alcohol. "You'll be the death of me." You say before gulping the bitter substance down your throat. It burns your esophagus and makes a quick disgusted face before slamming it down on the rough wooden table.

Your eyes gleam with wonder as you observe the recently developed nightclub. With its large dance floor shining brightly in neon lights and illuminated by spotlights and a shimmering disco ball, the atmosphere practically oozes excitement. All around, drunken and flushed bodies move along to the beat of the thumping music; jumping and swaying in a joyous and carefree manner. You can't help but smile along with them. The vibrant, pounding sound resonates within your body, making your heart beat faster. You don't know what it is, but a sudden urge compels you to take a leap of faith and join the others on the dance floor, letting the infectious music guide your body.

The rhythm of the song shifted into a captivating, slow melody. Deliberately, you began to move with a seductive grace, allowing your hips and legs to sway freely, independent of any outside influence. Your arms glided slowly down your body, accentuating every curve. Suddenly, you could feel the presence of another body behind you. His hands lightly gripped your waist, subtly indicating his presence without interrupting your movements. In perfect synchronization, his hips matched your pace, creating an unspoken harmony. Your gaze was drawn to his muscular arms, belonging to a handsome man with an olive complexion. He pulled you closer, intensifying the connection, inviting you to feel his undeniable presence. Maintaining a steady rhythm, you bit your lip, longing for increased tension. His hands on your hips guided you as he turned you to face him.

It was like a fantasy come to life, as you gazed upon this breathtaking man. With long, black locks framing his chiseled features and captivating doe-shaped eyes, he exuded an aura of charm and allure. His tight-fitting shirt showcased his sculpted chest, the muscles beneath emphasizing his strength. Utterly captivated by him, you were unable to look away. Sensing your reaction, he smirked, radiating confidence. His right hand glided from your hip, up along your side, until it reached the nape of your neck, holding you gently but with purpose. Leaning close, he whispered in your ear, "Come with me to my table."

Before you can even consider, your involuntary movements had agreed for you. You nodded your head, following closely behind him amidst the sweltering crowd of flushed bodies on the dance floor. The sensation of being amidst the flurry of the dance floor was something you had suddenly yearned for. The anticipation of what the night would bring fueled your excitement. A magnificent gold and velvet stanchion rope stood as a barrier at the entrance of the elevated section. Swiftly, the security personnel removed the rope, granting you both access. As you stepped into the new setting, you felt a sense of liberation. The section was occupied by individuals most likely of a similar age. Their closed and self-assured expressions hinted at their elevated status. You felt out of place amidst them. Jungkook found an unoccupied seat on the lounge chair and graciously offered it to you. In a relaxed posture, he placed one arm on the headrest of the couch while the other remained nestled in the space between his spread legs.

You settled down beside him, avoiding eye contact. In fact, you instinctively stiffened your posture on the couch as you sensed his piercing gaze. There was a slight eerie silence between you. "May I get you a drink, my dear?" he smoothly inquired, his gaze filled with thoughtfulness. "Pleasure meeting you I'm Jeon Jungkook." He removes his hand from between his hand and offers it to you. You take it. "Y/n." You say with a charming smile. "Y/n..." He holds your hand and kisses the back of your hand. "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman." The intensity in his eyes was undeniable. "I see something exceptional in you," he replied in a suave, charismatic tone. "To the extent that I believe you are the most stunning being I have laid eyes on in a considerable time." "Don't I feel like a rare gem amongst the ordinary?" you chuckled, amused by your own remark. "How do you justify deeming me special?" He smirked and playfully winked at you. "You are more than just a rare gem, my dear. You are the brightest star illuminating the entire night sky; your radiance is so captivating that it becomes impossible to look away. You are a true masterpiece."

Unimpressed you chucked, "Is this how you're gonna win me over?" Y/n scoffed shaking his head at the lame small talk. He smiles confidently in response. "I'm going to treat you to every wish of yours and to everything you could ever want. I want to show you the time of your life." He gives you another confident smirk. So you're a genie?" You sarcastically asked.

He chuckles confidently, not deterred by your sarcastic tone. "If I am, what wish would you make if I could grant it?" He asks as he leans forward slightly, his eyes twinkling with interest. She backs up a bit at his closer contact but remains quiet. "Oh come on, love," he says mischievously, giving your arm a squeeze. "Let me win you over." He smiles at you. "I know you like me already. So let me prove to you that I'm serious." "Oh. Such rumors don't exist." You turn looking away. He chuckles. "Oh you don't?" Jungkook asks with a sly smirk. "I know you're playing hard to get." His demeanor becomes confident once more. "You're playing this little game of cat and mouse as if I don't know exactly what you're trying to do." He gives you a playful wink to show that he knows you're playing along with him. "Let me be your man i know I can treat you like a princess. Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you." She gets up all close and personal to his beautiful face, "You know what I want." He looks at her with a mystery to her answer. "A night where I can have blissful fun and forget about my life, just for one night. I wish for the best night of my life."

He looked at her with a sad expression for a moment, a pause before answering. "I've been watching you for a while, y/n, I watch you come into my club every night for the past month. At the same time every night. I don't want you alone in your hard times." You stopped talking and just listened to him. He twists lip ring before continuing, "I'll give you an offer." You immediately shake your head. "Oh I'm not like that. No Thank you, sir."

You get up to leave but he pulls you back down. "Before I can tell you, Let me give me your wish, y/n." Y/n thinks for a moment. Wondering if this is the right thing to do? Who knows what she is getting herself into. Jungkook smirks at the kiss that you place on his hand. "I told you I'd make you feel something," he purrs. "This is just the beginning, love; I plan to show you many nights like these." He gives you a flirtatious wink and holds you closely against him. "Follow me," he says as he leans in close before pulling away. He motions with his hands to follow him and begins to walk out the door, motioning for you to follow him with his hand. Jungkook leads you from the bar and into what appears to be a private suit in his club guarded by security his best men. Before coming to a halt. The security grants him and you access. He unlocks the door with a key. Opening it to a grand suite. You are awfully impressed. "Close your eyes," he commands. "Trust me. You'll love what I have in store for you."

You close your eyes with hands unsure of this was safe. He doesn't waste time before he's kissing you sensually, licking your bottom lip asking for entrance. You open your mouth his tongue swirls around yours and fights for dominance as you let him have it. Spending some time making out, getting to know each other with your mouths he begins to kiss down your neck leaving open mouth kisses down your neck behind your ears occasionally nipping at it. He rips your dress and your bra and attacks your left boob. Sucking on your nipple and palming the other one in his other hand. “Hmm? You like this don't you?" His tongue begins to swirl around the nipple. You bite your lip and you have to force your eyes to look at the ceiling. Jungkook’s inked hand reaches down your lower back. His subtle touches leave a trail of shivers, until his pads brush over the slope of your ass. He squeezes your cheek, firm fingers kneading into your skin.

Leaving you breathless Jungkook's hand graze the sides of your body. As you continue kissing, Jungkook’s hands creep bare body up your thighs until your panties are revealed. His hands press further toward your inner thighs, and you gasp into the kiss when his thumb pushes against the seat of your underwear.They have been damp for a while now and you know he knows this, so you aren’t surprised when he breaks the kiss to smirk. With hon many times you see him smirk tonight it makes you want to punch him. "All for me?" He chuckles before removing your panties. He pushes you to the nearest wall and begins playing with your pussy. He spreads your wetness with his finger. Your hand on Jungkook's shoulder squeezing it when he brushes past your clit. His finger dwells there, putting pressure on your swollen clit. Then Jungkook’s hand is reaching for you again. He brushes a finger over your hole, and your body twitches from the sensitivity. He slides that finger through the wetness and then uses the lubrication to push only the tip of his finger in. he dips it in and out, teasing the nerves at your entrance. Your hips impulsively start to rock, a shaky whimper rolls past your mouth.

Then quickly transitions to his tongue is on your pussy. Using both his spread your cheeks open for better access. His tongue dives between your folds, inciting breathless whimpers from you. His head nudges your entrance. You inhale sharply ready for him inside you. He pulls out his cock out of pants and sdjust the tip to your entrance. Brushing the tip against your quivering hole. Jungkook pushes his cock inside "You can take it.” Jungkook’s hand finds your tit, firmly palming the smooth flesh. “You’re gonna take my cock like the good girl you are, right?” You only cry out in pleasure. He continues to thrusts deeply in you. “Damn, you feel so fucking amazing,” he grunts, a harshness surrounds his tone. Jungkook loses himself. He finds his rhythm and thrusts inside your pussy with sharp motions. “So fucking pretty.” A hand travels over your ass to your spine and back. “The prettiest girl,” he rasps. A smack on your butt was given. The pain leaving your walls clenching around his thick cock. He grops your breasts as you both reach your climax. Collapsing in your shoulder. He whimpers in your ear.

a/n: alot of mistakes and im not sure if i like it too much so i will be editing it alot tmrw but enjoy fkr now

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wordsvomit101 · 2 months

Text

That awkward moment when you realized that your big bro got laid with the person you tried to kill.

Author Notes: Credits to @eternal_auditor & @jazeswhbhaven, I got this idea for this shameless worldbuilding headcanons for Heaven and Angels thanks to both of them and the latter's "Angel Bros Headcanons: Michael Flips" post. I also just want to write the scenario in general. Warnings: Raphael is a caution flag himself, depictions of violence, thoughts of brutalizing and eating someone (being directed at MC) by Raphael, a lot of name-calling from Raphael directed at MC

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

(Heaven - Time of Councils and Assemblies)

In the tranquil embrace of Heaven, evening descends like a gentle caress, casting a soft golden hue upon the timeless realm. As the radiant sun dips below the horizon of ethereal clouds, the celestial landscape is bathed in hues of pink, orange, and purple, creating a breathtaking tapestry of colors that stretches across the vast expanse of the heavenly domain. The sky is like a canvas painted lovingly by the hands of God, with the colors of a thousand sunsets, each stroke a masterpiece of divine artistry. The clouds, like celestial brushstrokes, dance across the canvas, their forms ever-changing, their edges illuminated with an ethereal glow.

Amidst the celestial splendor, angelic beings gracefully glide through the sky upon the archways of purest gold span the thoroughfares of Heaven, their graceful curves reminiscent of angelic wings in flight. Beneath these archways lie crystal atriums, their transparent walls revealing the celestial wonders of Heaven in all their resplendent glory. Their iridescent wings shimmer with divine light, flying gracefully as if they dance and pirouette in ethereal ballets, painting radiant trails of luminescence across the sky.

The lower-ranking angels engage in celestial chorales, their melodious voices intertwining in harmonies that resonate throughout the Heaven. The soaring soprano of archangels blends seamlessly with the velvety alto of cherubim, weaving a symphony that would uplift the soul and transport the listener to realms of pure bliss. The music reverberates through the celestial expanse, like a cosmic symphony conducted to worship the Almighty.

For middle-ranking angels, their beloved duty during the Pilgrimage to the Mount of Revelation to commune with their dear creator has to be despairingly pushed to merely Contemplation of Sacred Texts and attending to the Halls of Eternal Wisdom, a lesser, but an honorable duty nonetheless.

Even higher above, amidst ethereal spires and resplendent palaces that grace the heavenly expanse, angelic artisans toil diligently within the Halls of Artistry. Their deft hands sculpt magnificent statues and weave intricate tapestries, each a testament to the wonders of creation. They yearn for the day when their divine creator will bestow upon them a glimpse of their artistry, even a millisecond of recognition for their unwavering dedication to him would be more than enough.

While other angels tend to the flourishing celestial flora in the Gardens of Eternal Bliss. Radiant blooms burst forth in a splendor of colors, their petals shimmering with an otherworldly luminescence. The angels nurture these heavenly gardens with love and care, a single damage to a petal of these beautiful flowers is enough to have their heads roll to the disgusting pit of Hell, however making a mistake in God's favorite garden is an even bigger sin.

It is a mundane day for all of them.

Bang!

"Sir-!"

Creak!

"AAAAAA-!"

Crunch!

"I have yet to finish my prayer-!"

Snap!

However, it wouldn't be a normal day if there wasn't a Raphael brutally tearing and eating fleshes of every angel on his path to the Chamber of Divine Counsel to meet with other Seraphs. His blood-caked shoes thundering over polished marble as he swaggers through the vaulted corridors of Heaven, his crimson-smeared wings unfurling like banners of carnage. Red marred his short blonde hair and white attire. With each wrathful step, he leaves a trail of dismembered angel carcasses, their alabaster feathers floating like ethereal snowflakes in his wake. His crimson eye fully emits an aura of violence and fury.

Thump!

Bursting into the Chamber of Divine Counsel with enough force to make the office tremble, the room was bathed in an ethereal glow, and the other Seraphs present, Gabriel and Michael, sat in their resplendent chairs, their expressions inscrutable. Raphael's form, however, drenched in the gore of his victims, stood in stark contrast to the pristine surroundings. He only has one thought of personally feasting upon that purple hair wench's flesh when she is still alive and making her watch herself being devoured alive and cut off her tongue so she couldn't even voice out her pain.

"Why... Why is it always her...! That bitch!"

The pure white chairs, crafted from the finest celestial ivory, bore the brunt of his rage, splintering and crumbling under his kicks. Yet Gabriel and Michael, their faces devoid of emotion, paid him little attention.

"If you insist on throwing a tantrum, I implore you to do so in a realm more suited to such sorrowful displays. Hell would accommodate your temperaments more appropriately."

Michael stood tall over the intricately designed long table with a mindmap and countless brainstorming notes. Standing in a place Brother Lucifer used to stand in each council meeting. His glare locked on the furious blonde seraph before him. A frown, as if carved in stone, creased his handsome face, adding an air of solemnity to his prideful demeanor. Around his neck, a regal purple choker, embellished with ornate gold rings and shimmering gemstones, encircled his throat. At its center, a prominent gold ring held a solemn cross pendant, its gentle clinking accompanying his every movement.

In a swift motion, Michael tilted his head to the left, displaying effortless grace as he dodged the flying chair hurtling towards him at high speed. The chair collided with the wall, its impact leaving a deep dent in the panel, a testament to the force behind the throw.

"Shut that shitty mouth of yours! Maybe try to go down there yourself to ask why our dear brother is entertaining trash!" As Raphael spoke, his voice trembled with anger and frustration, his words dripping with venomous accusation. A few veins already popped on his crazed, striking appearance. Filled with unrepressed anger that led him to kill his spies who reported to him and fly from the dungeon up here.

Yet Michael continued to look at his notes, his face blissfully indifferent. His right hand continued to write on many of his papers on the white table.

"He has simply strayed from the right path."

Brother Lucifer’s footstep-less feet headed for the vile tiny red devil.

'Stop it.'

However, he couldn't say the same about his head. Memories he had been trying to wipe from his mind for years served only to haunt him. Taunting him of the gut-wrenching event more than a hundred years ago.

In the silence, pure white hands pushed through the grass and preciously held up the rotten red thing.

'Don't dirty your hands.'

His brother stroked that thing's body so softly with his hands so similar to how he once did with Michael's face. Those strong, beautiful hands that once held his face so tenderly to wipe his tears away. As he placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

'Brother...'

"I remain confident in my ability to guide him back to the right path."

His brother's hand was holding Michael’s ray of light. The light in Brother Lucifer’s hand had stopped in front of the disgusting beast's chest, unable to advance further. He was again protecting worthless things that didn't deserve his grace.

'Why did you save it?!'

When his brother finally stood before Michael on his third step, black energy, not white, began to flow from his body.

'No-NononononoNONO-'

From his beloved brother’s head, the gorgeous head of the Morning Star, bright red horns that were the same color as the vile thing that tempted him began to grow.

'Brother- Brother Lucifer please!'

"You shall witness it in due time."

"I love you, my brother. Which is why I will give you one last chance. Return."

Crack!

The force of Michael's left hand left a massive crack in the opulent crystal marble table that trailed down to the other end of it. Effectively bringing clarity back to Raphael as the blonde gazes at Michael's hard knuckle gripping the table painfully, ignoring the blood pooling down to the marble floor and further dirtying the former pristine chamber.

Michael's abrupt actions were met with an air of knowing silence from the two. It wouldn't be far-fetched if they possessed a secret understanding of his motivations that would elude outsiders.

"Hmph," a scoff rang out and pierced the silence of the room, originating from the slender man with platinum blonde hair seated to Michael's right. His face, though classically handsome with a pale complexion, remained stoic and emotionless, belying the arrogance that dripped from the single syllable he uttered.

"Then you better live up to those words."

Gabriel's lean was a graceful movement, his body sinking into the chair as if it were a throne. His arms crossed over his chest, the crisp white of his shirt contrasting sharply with the gleam of the gold chain that adorned his white jabot ruffle shirt. The fabric of his sleeves rustled softly against the delicate filigree, creating a symphony of subtle sounds that echoed through the silent room. His eyes, deep and enigmatic, surveyed the scene before him, his expression a mixture of amusement and quiet contemplation.

"Furthermore, even in his current state, Brother Lucifer still demonstrates a reverence for God. It is conceivable that his actions are merely a symptom of his yearning for God's divine presence."

In this timeless realm, where Gabriel proudly proclaims to reign supreme as the epitome of seraphic obedience, there exists but one for whom he would willingly surrender his esteemed position: Brother Lucifer. The firstborn of God's creations, Brother Lucifer's devotion to his Maker surpassed all others, earning him the title of Morning Star. His brilliance illuminated the heavens, casting an unrivaled radiance that even Gabriel's wings could not obscure.

It was Brother Lucifer who instilled within the celestial choirs the rituals and observances that expressed their gratitude to the Almighty. Yet amidst his unwavering piety, Brother Lucifer adhered to a solitary discipline known only to himself. Only a select few had glimpsed this secret regimen, elusive even to those who had followed his every step for countless eons.

Solitary would not be said without Brother Lucifer's name being attached to the word. He found solace in his own construction of hallowed sanctuaries. These Majestic Temples of Worship at odd places in Heaven served as his solitary refuge, where he could commune with the divine without the distractions of others. His devotion ignited a spark in other angels, who, inspired by his example, crafted Halls of Artistry. They sculpted countless colossal statues of the Almighty, their grandeur exceeding the limits of mortal imagination.

No one dared step one foot into his havens, they were for Brother Lucifer alone, and death would be upon those who broke that unspoken rule.

Yet there were times he allowed Gabriel to join him during Celestial Meditation in the secluded Garden of Eternal Reflection, a sacred sanctuary hidden deep within the heart of Heaven. Here, amidst the fragrant blossoms and tranquil pools, Brother Lucifer let Gabriel join his silent meditation and prayers. It was one of the highlights of Gabriel's day when his brother was still around.

"Not if he is messing with the descendant of Solomon."

Raphael's voice now had the former rage in it that reminded him of what he came here for, to be in these two insufferable presences. He could barely believe it when one of his spies uttered those words out of their useless mouth. That Lucifer? The Morning Star? His brother who despises Solomon as much as any other angel and the one that would bite another head off if they recklessly touched him even in the rendezvous night at the sacred Eternal Flame at the heart of Heaven where they allowed themselves to let loose for a bit?

It sounds fucking unbelievable, but when they show him a picture of that purple-haired vixen bumping parts with his brother, it sends him off the reels. He kills most of the spies and storms out of his favorite dungeon to here.

"Pardon?" Michael's mismatched eyes bulged, his neck creaking and twitching as he stared up at Raphael in a frenzy of incomprehension, his falsely composed display gone. The mere hint of the truth was liable to send the black-haired Seraph into a rampage and murder them all.

"Are you suggesting..." Gabriel's face, previously etched in stoicism, crumbled into a mask of horror. He couldn't believe the words that had escaped Raphael's lips, but he couldn't shake the realization that was slowly creeping upon him. He desperately wished that the words that came out of Raphael's mouth were nothing more than a cruel jest, but the look in his eyes said otherwise.

"I said, he's with the descendant of Solomon, that purple-haired harlot...that traitor....that cheat- That tempting trash!"

It pissed Raphael off even more as he raised his voice volume, veins now appearing on his throat, especially at the reminder of his text with that two-timer. The sheer self-satisfied energy radiating off his phone screen almost makes him fly down to Hell to choke that bitch until her brain pops out of her head himself.

"This is preposterous...impossible..." Michael's jaw hung slack, his eyes wide with disbelief as Raphael's accusations cut through the air like a madman who had just been cheated on. His normally steady stance faltered, replaced by a palpable sense of hysteria that made his body tremble. He stumbled backward, his back colliding with the cold, unforgiving wall as if seeking solace from the onslaught of emotions that threatened to consume him. The wall provided no comfort, its smooth surface a stark contrast to the turmoil raging through his body.

"I'm not joking. I heard her talking about Lucifer, his scar, his... 'thing'," The mere mention of his beloved brother's private part sends shivers down his spine as his voice quivered. The thought of that conniving bitch taking full advantage of the trust Brother Lucifer had placed in her made his blood boil with simmering rage. And that she dared to go against her promise to him as if those moments they shared in the poisonous sky of Hell meant nothing.

"She knows his exact measurements!- You know what, look at this shit yourself!" With a resounding slam that echoed through the room like a thunderclap, he unveiled the damning evidence: a collection of photographs frozen in time, capturing moments of intimate interaction between Lucifer and the individual in question.

The images fell upon the table with a heavy thud, causing the fragile surface to tremble under the weight of their revelation. Despite the force of impact that threatened to shatter the fragile table beneath them, the pictures remained intact, their unspoken truth radiating from their glossy surfaces like a painful revelation begging to be acknowledged.

Michael's face contorted with a ghastly twitch as if he were attempting to conjure laughter, but the sound that escaped his lips was more akin to a hollow echo in the thick, suffocating atmosphere. "Shut up," his mind struggled to piece together the unthinkable truth that lay sprawled before him like a macabre revelation. Denial, a feeble shield against the onslaught of evidence, crumbled before the weight of reality, leaving him quaking.

"I swear before Thrones of Heavenly Majesty I will make her rue the day she even touched him. She corrupted him and brought him over to the side of temptation. God would never-" As Gabriel's solemn vow echoed through the room, the air crackled with the intensity of his conviction, thick with the gravity of impending retribution for the sinner.

His words struck a nerve, exacerbating Michael's fraying composure. The gravity of the situation bore down upon him like a suffocating weight, his anger bubbling to the surface in fervor.

"FUCKING SHUT UP! IT'S NOT REAL! IT'S NOT REAL!" Michael's voice cracked with anguish and insanity, his outburst sending shockwaves through the chamber. In his distress, the chamber was engulfed in an inferno, casting eerie shadows that danced upon the walls. In the distance, the echo of Michael's despair mingled with the desperate prayers and curses of those trapped within the blazing office. The once-orderly chamber had become a scene of utter chaos and destruction.

"O, Almighty Creator," Gabriel's voice trembled with urgency, his words a fervent entreaty to the absent God above. "Grant us clarity in this hour of darkness, illuminate our path with Your divine light."

Meanwhile, Gabriel's attempts at prayer offered little solace as he grappled with the implications of Raphael's revelations.

His murmurs grew more frantic with each passing moment, a desperate attempt to find solace in the face of unsettling truths. "Guide us through this tempest, O Lord, for we are adrift in a sea of uncertainty. Let Your wisdom be our compass, and Your mercy our salvation."

But despite his fervent appeals, only shrieks and flames answer back, echoing throughout Heaven from the burning chamber they're in.

"She said she'd only do that with me..." Raphael’s voice cracked with bitterness, each word laced with venomous resentment. His fingers curled into fists, nails digging into his palms as he fought to contain the seething anger threatening to consume him whole. "...she lied...she lied..."

The weight of betrayal hung heavy in his heart, suffocating him with its oppressive presence. Raphael's chest heaved with each labored breath, his heart aching with the sting of betrayal. "Fucking cheater..." His words dripped with venom, the bitterness of betrayal poisoning his soul.

With a primal snarl, Raphael's control shattered like glass, shards of rage cutting deep into his consciousness. He lashed out blindly, his teeth sinking into the flesh of a passing stupidly brave angel that came to check on the three Seraphs, the taste of blood a bitter reminder of his own foolishness.

"I hate her..." The words escaped his lips in a guttural growl, each syllable dripping with raw fury. His grip tightened around the angel's trembling form, nails digging into flesh as he sought to vent his pent-up rage on an unwitting victim.

"I'm not sloppy seconds..." Raphael's voice cracked with rage, his crimson eyes ablaze like a firestorm. He tore into the angel's flesh with savage ferocity, his actions a grotesque display of his inner turmoil. "...I'm no side bitch!"

Boom!

— — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"Hm?", in the dim recesses of his grandiose office, Lucifer, who was engrossed in his craftsmanship of carving the statue of the divine, lifted his gaze from his artistic endeavor by the sudden but subtle yet discernible disturbance in the island above the sky of Hell.

His pure white eyes shimmered with an otherworldly glow. Despite the plaster and pigments that adorned his once-pristine garments save for his bloody back that had his broken wings. His form radiated a timeless beauty, marred only by the grim expression on his handsome visage.

The sensation he felt was like a creeping up from above, like a ripple in the placid waters of a celestial lake.

'What are those three getting angry at right now?'

Raon, who was perched upon the plush velvet couch that adorned his office, her tall form immersed in the pages of an ancient tome, looked up swiftly at Lucifer's voice, a rare occurrence after hours of silence.

Once she raised her gaze from the text, her curious eyes meeting Lucifer's form with silent inquiry. Normally, she would wait until Lucifer is willing to tell her what is on his mind, but currently, she is bored and needs a break after reading several magic grimoires Lucifer gave her and practicing with them for almost a whole day.

'Let's just hope he will at least give me a short answer.'

"Um, Lucifer, is there something wrong?" Raon's voice, soft and tentative, carried a note of concern as she awaited his response, her gaze fixed unwaveringly upon him.

Lucifer's answer was measured, his words carrying the weight of foreboding. "I feel there's a disturbance. There would be a storm soon," he left out the part that it was most likely his brothers being angry about something again.

"Is it related to the angels?" Yet the young woman still managed to catch onto the hidden message, her question not directed at ordinary angels but at his brothers as she nervously tightened her grip on her grimoire.

Lucifer nodded solemnly. "Very likely," he confirmed. His gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon but his voice relaxed to ease the lady's tension as he contemplated the unfolding events in the celestial realm.

"Oh, then I will get back to my training-", with a subtle shift of his form, he turned his attention back to Raon, his gaze meeting hers with a serene intensity as he stood up to clean himself with a swipe of his finger. He tidied himself with a cleaning spell and put his tools and statues back into their orderly places without doing so himself physically—a casual display of his magic that Raon wishes to get to one day.

"It's fine," Lucifer assured her, his tone gentle yet authoritative. "Let's take a rest. Care to join me for a walk to the observatory room?" Quietly, he held out his right arm for her to hold on to if she wanted to accompany him.

Raon's heart fluttered at the invitation, her breath catching in her throat as she struggled to contain her excitement. "Really? I-I mean, of course! Please lead the way." Her words spilled forth in a rush of eagerness, her eyes shining with anticipation as she rose from her seat and she excitedly but carefully walked over to Lucifer's spot.

As Raon raised her gaze, a silent query lingering in her eyes, she studied the handsome devil's countenance for the slightest hint of unease. Finding none, she shyly reached out and clasped his arm, a silent agreement passing between them. Together, they embarked on a leisurely stroll, the pace unhurried yet purposeful.

Lucifer, typically swift in his movements, slowed his steps to accommodate Raon, pausing whenever she expressed a desire to linger and marvel at the exquisite white blossoms that adorned Paradise Lost, a sight reserved only for the privileged few. The air was filled with a sense of tranquility and reverence as they meandered through the garden, each step bringing them closer to their destination, yet allowing them to savor the beauty that surrounded them. Unbothered by the chaos that is currently exploding in Heaven.

#what in hell is bad #whb #whb worldbuilding #whb michael #whb gabriel #whb raphael #whb lucifer #whb mc #minors dni #these 3 are so silly/jk #i will act like the christmas event didn't happen and just let mc girlbossing in another way #let homegirl be magical #lucifer is literally God's first fan boi #guess who these three got there habits from #it would be funny if lucifer was the wild one that contain himself to be a role model to his brothers but it failed anyway #they still love him tho and that is all it matter

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