#For all the kind words and the patience and the love

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

girl i love your stories that i reread them A LOT. idk if your request is open but if it's not then you can do it whenever I WILL WAIT MY WHOLE LIFE FOR IT

some angst (but end with fluff) about y/n being bad at directions (me tbh) so she keeps clinging to minho and his friends (during idk maybe their tour in japan or other vacations)so when minho snaps at her she left the restaurant immediately and thought about going back to hotel but get lost and her phone died then when minho find out she's not back till late at night he starts going crazy looking for her around

i'll let you get creative from here! tq!!!!

I hope you enjoy!!!

The trip to Japan had been an exhilarating whirlwind of sights and sounds. But for you, it also became a constant struggle to keep up with the group. Your terrible sense of direction was something you’d always laughed off, but here, in the bustling chaos of unfamiliar streets, it felt like a glaring flaw. You clung to Minho more than you intended to, relying on him to guide you when you inevitably got turned around.

By the third day, his patience began to wear thin.

It started with small sighs, then curt remarks. But tonight, as you hesitated once again at an intersection, unsure which way to go, Minho snapped. His voice cut through the group’s chatter, sharp and biting.

“For God’s sake, Y/N, can you stop acting helpless for five minutes? It’s not that hard to figure out where we’re going.”

The words stung like a slap, and the embarrassment that followed was suffocating. The others fell silent, their eyes darting between the two of you. Chan stepped forward, his voice firm and reprimanding.

“Minho, that’s enough! You don’t ever talk to her like that. You hear me?”

Minho opened his mouth to retort but quickly shut it, guilt flashing across his face under Chan's firm glare. Still, the damage was done. You felt small and out of place, like an unwelcome burden. Chan gave you a shoulder squeeze before going to scold Minho a bit more. The group resumed walking, the atmosphere tense as all the boy looked over in your direction with awkward and pitiful glances. Felix and Jeongin tried to lighten your mood by talking casually with you, but the lump in your throat wouldn't shake.

When you reached the restaurant, you quietly excused yourself, claiming you needed some air. No one stopped you. Outside, the cool night air hit your face as tears blurred your vision. You decided to head back to the hotel, thinking it was better to remove yourself from the group altogether.

But as you wandered through the maze of streets, panic began to set in. Every turn seemed to lead to another unfamiliar alley, and your phone’s battery was dwindling fast. When it finally died, leaving you stranded without maps or a way to contact anyone, fear took hold.

Back at the restaurant, the group noticed your prolonged absence. Jisung was the first to speak up, glancing around nervously.

“Uh, has anyone seen Noona? She’s been gone for a while.”

Minho, who had been unusually quiet since his outburst, froze. Chan frowned, his protective instincts kicking in.

“I’ll check outside,” Jisung offered, already heading for the door. He returned a few minutes later, his expression grim.

“She’s not out there,” he said, his voice edged with worry. “I think she’s gone.”

Minho shot to his feet, his heart hammering in his chest. “What do you mean, gone?”

“I don’t know!” Jisung replied, his voice rising. “I can’t find her anywhere. She’s not answering her phone either.”

The weight of the situation hit Minho like a freight train. His earlier anger dissolved into a nauseating mix of fear and guilt. Without another word, he bolted out of the restaurant, desperate to find you.

You’d been wandering for what felt like hours when a man approached you. He looked to be in his fifties, his kind eyes and warm smile a stark contrast to the bustling city around you.

“Are you lost?” he asked in Japanese. You nodded, tears streaming down your face as you tried to explain your situation.

“Come,” he said gently, switching to broken English. “My daughter recognized you. Said you are with boyfriend, Minho? Safe at our house. You charge phone.”

Too exhausted and desperate to refuse, you followed him to a modest house nearby. His daughter, a young woman about your age, greeted you with tea and a charger. The warmth of their home was comforting, but your heart ached with the weight of the evening’s events.

Minho was spiraling. He darted from street to street, asking anyone he came across if they’d seen you. When he entered a small cafe, the owner paused, recognizing your description.

“Yes,” she said. “She left with an older man. He seemed…kind. Not dangerous.”

Her words did little to calm Minho’s fraying nerves. The thought of you- vulnerable and alone- with a stranger nearly pushed him to the brink of a breakdown. His hands trembled as he tried to focus.

“Where? Which way did they go?” he demanded.

She pointed him in the right direction, and he took off without a second thought. When he finally reached the house and saw you through the window, sitting safely with the older man and his daughter, the relief was overwhelming. He knocked and burst through the door, his chest heaving.

“Y/N,” he choked out, rushing to your side. “Are you okay? I was…I was so scared.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. Minho pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if to make sure you were really there.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I…I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I didn’t mean it. I…I can’t lose you.”

You let out a shaky breath, but before you could respond, the daughter handed you a photo card she’d been holding. It was of Minho, from a recent album. She giggled nervously, gesturing to the collection spread out across the table.

“I'm a big fan,” she said in English, and you couldn’t help but smile. "So, I recognized her from your posts."

“Thank you for helping her,” Minho said to her and the father in Japanese, his voice hoarse. Then, in a move that stunned everyone, he sank to his knees. Lowering himself further until his forehead almost touched the ground, he bowed deeply, the ultimate gesture of gratitude and humility, as he cried out words you couldn't understand, but the small family did.

“Thank you,” he said again in English, his voice trembling. “Thank you for keeping her safe. Thank you.”

The father’s eyes widened in surprise before he helped Minho up, patting his shoulder reassuringly before he looked at you. “She…good girl. You take care of her, yes?”

Minho nodded fervently, his gaze flickering to you. “Always.”

As the family waved you off, Minho kept a protective arm around you the entire walk back to the hotel. Neither of you spoke much, but his grip on you never loosened, his actions speaking louder than words ever could.

By the time you reached the entrance you took a shaky breath. "I'm sorry-"

Minho pulled you into his chest before you could say anything else. "You scared me." He whispered. "I was so scared- people...they can be dangerous."

You didn't say anything, just sunk further into his embrace, your lips turning into a pout as Minho held you.

"You found her?" Chan's accent cut through the sound of Minho's rapid heartbeat as him and Han rushed over. "I'll call the rest of the guys and tell them to come back."

Another wave of guilt hit you and you tried to sputter out another apology but Han spoke.

"It's not your fault Y/N. It's Minho's for acting that way."

You looked up at Minho, whose eyes were blank. "I'm tired. Let's head to bed." He said quietly, pulling you along. He walked into your hotel room and kicked off his shoes, pulling you under the covers with him.

He pulled you flush against his chest and rested his chin on your shoulder.

"I'm sorry." He said again. "I'm a horrible boyfriend." You turned in the bed towards him, and your heart tugged at seeing his eyes. He had been silently crying, and when he felt he didn't want you to see him cry any longer he buried his face in your chest, hugging you closer.

"I forgive you. You don't have to say sorry."

"I do. I put you in a dangerous position because of my frustrations. That's ignorant of me. If anything had happened-" His voice was muffled but you heard the slight crack in it.

'Well, nothing happened so I'm okay. I'm safe. And the father and daughter were such a cute little family and kind. You were her bias as well so if anything I was probably the most safe there." You teased. Minho didn't say anything instead pulled the blanket tighter around you.

You sighed and closed your eyes, deciding to just let Minho wallow. When he thought you were asleep he moved the strands of hair stuck to your cheek and laid a gentle kiss there.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight for the rest of this trip." You stayed still as he placed another kiss on the corner of your lips, then forehead.

"I love you, jagiya." He murmured, before resting his forehead against yours, a drifting off into a dreamless sleep with you.

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@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

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@rockstarkkami

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[miirohs]

love bites [l.d.n]

pairing: Vampire!Lando Norris x GN!Reader wc: 1.5k cw: dub-con to slight non-con, this is lowkey just me being horny an: its the way this was suppose to come out in october (halloween) then on christmas (yesterday) but i went and put this off a grand total of like 5000 different times like...... the title has nothing to do with this whatsoever LOL

You were sure this wasn’t how Lando wanted to spend his night, forced to bite air as you grinned at his misery from under him, forced inches away from you despite the fact that you could freely feel him up.

It was like the air had stiffened up in the room, and despite the window being cracked open, tension between you almost seemed to mount as he tried to figure out what you’d done.

You could clearly see the sweat percolating on his bare skin with how close he was to you, forming a soft sheen in the moonlight with how hot and bothered he was becoming. His breathing was uneven, pupils blown wide even in the darkness of your room. 

It was almost endearing, save for the sharp glint of his fangs as he barely held back a snarl at your teasing. You could almost imagine what it’d feel like with him running his teeth through your neck, and you shivered at the thought.

He wasn’t happy at all, but you? Oh, you were having the time of your life with this.

"You think this is funny?" He snapped, voice rough and frayed as his eyes ran up and down your neck. He wasn’t even trying to hide his hunger, eyeing you down as if deciding what he wanted to do with you first when he got his hands on you.

“Maybe,” you stifled a snicker, unable to hide your grin as you inspected his face. “Do you like it? I think this necklace you gave me is really my favorite now.”

His muscles ticked as he glared at you, clearly unimpressed by your antics. His whole body was betraying just how much restraint he was exercising, and you were gleeful. "Fun?" he repeated, lowering his voice. "You think this is fun, I'll show you fun when I tear apart your little witch friends, whichever one of them enchanted this for you.”

You shrugged, tangling your fingers in his damp curls, pulling gently at them while he clenched his jaw. “Not my fault, I just thought it would be kind of funny to see you try. Maybe you shouldn’t have tried some of those antics earlier this week, huh?” 

For a moment, you thought he might finally snap, might try to rip it off your neck. But instead, he just let out a low laugh, earning a slight flinch from you. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?” He seethed. “Playing games like this. You really wanna keep testing me like this sweetheart?”

The sudden spike in his anger had you scrambling to cover, scoffing to hide your alarm. “It’s just a little fun, Lando. Plus, it’s not like you’re dying of hunger, right? You can live with this for a couple hours.”

Lando’s gaze darkened at your words, and the smile faltered on your lips as you noticed how still he’d gone. “Oh, come on, you’re not actually mad, are you Lando?” His silence was unnerving you, and you barely regained your composure as you watched him shift again, ignoring as you tapped his arm for his attention.

“Lan? Are you upset with what I did because- ” you started cautiously, your hand reaching up to fiddle with the chain.

“No, I’m not.” he murmured, voice void of the pulsing anger from before. The shift caught you off guard, and alarm bells went off at the softness he was suddenly showing, you could see the calculation in his eyes even as they moved away from you. “I could never stay mad at you, even when you’re testing my patience like you are right now, sweetheart.”

You questioned what was with the sudden change of heart, but you allowed him to lean in nonetheless, letting his lips brush against your temple in the ghost of a kiss. You barely noticed how one of his hands trailed up your body, your breath unconsciously hitching as his thumb grazed the chain.

“This thing...” he started, fingers slowly looping under the chain. “It’s really something, isn’t it? A gift for you, and you’ve gone and weaponized it. Clever girl.”

His fingers tightened around the chain, the metal digging slightly into the back of your neck as he gave an experimental tug.

“But baby,” he continued, voice dripping with honeyed venom, “you should’ve known better than to bite the hand that feeds you, yeah?”

Before you could stop him, he yanked it off, the sound of the metal snapping resounding through the air. You could see the indents of the pattern on his palm, burning him to pull it off.

You froze, mind racing at the realization of what just happened.

Lando’s smile twisted into something predatory as he tossed the broken chain to the side, clearly pleased with himself. “That’s better, isn't it?” he murmured, his fingers brushing over the freed area. “You’d think that they’d at least cast a more durable charm. This burn was barely worth all that struggle.”

You yelped when his head dipped against your neck, pressing his lips to your pulse point and scraping his fangs on the area. His teeth almost broke the skin when he stopped, hovering over the spot for a couple of moments before he stopped to look at you.

“You’re trembling. Are you scared?” you hated the fact that you could hear the layers of satisfaction dripping from his voice, smug and undefeated.

“N-no, no I'm not.” You stuttered, the heat rushing to your face as he pulled back, smirking as your eyes met.

“You sure you wanna lie to me about that baby?” he countered, teasing, “I can hear your heartbeat going crazy in there.”

“I am not scared of you,” you hissed weakly, even as you allowed him to dip back down to your neck, close for comfort. “You can’t-”

“Liar liar,” Lando coaxed mockingly. “And I'm not cruel enough to do what you thought I was going to, not unless you want me to...” He positioned himself to bite again, and you squeezed your eyes shut, expecting the jolt of pain keeping your adrenaline thrumming.

Instead, nothing came, and you jolted as he laughed in your ear.

“You know what? I’ll give you a choice if you so desperately want it.”

Your hands tightened on his forearms, keeping your eyes away from his as your nails dug into his skin. You were already mad, mad enough to let him in, what was just a little more? 

“What’s it going to be, sweetheart? You're gonna keep being stubborn?” he interrupted, the kiss on your neck sending jolts of electricity through your body. “Just say the word, or I’ll make that choice for you.”

You didn’t respond, clenching your jaw even as he forced you to look at him, pulling you flush up against him. Your resolve was wavering and he saw it, clear as day.

“I see,” he said finally, his response dripping with mock disappointment. “You’re gonna make it work for it. Have it your way then.”

He sank his teeth into your neck not even seconds later.

The pain was white-hot, spreading through your body, and eventually replaced by warmth radiating from the bite area. Your heartbeat, erratic as it was, slowly started to calm down as well. It was like moving in molasses, fever pitch draining you of energy. The rush of relief from the burn was dizzying, though your nerves were buzzing from the shock all the same. 

He’d pulled back enough to give you a glance, breath warm against the puncture marks. You flinched at the sensation, a small whimper escaping your mouth as he tried to shush you.

“Easy, sweetheart," he murmured, tilting your neck and exposing it further. "I’ve got you, just relax."

You felt his words before you could process them, a swipe of his tongue over the wound. However, it just made your head reel, caught by the confusion at what he was doing.

“What are you doing?” You blurted out, trying to meet his shameless eyes even when he pushed your head back to gain access to your neck.

“Cleaning up,” he replied, continuing to smooth over the ache, “Wouldn’t want this to be a mess.” 

“God, you’re relentless,” you hissed, jolting back from the sensation. “And you’re not a cat either, so stop licking me like that.”

“Are you sure you really want me to stop? I’m starting to think you might actually like it when I get this close. You sure as hell make it easy for me, if nothing else.” He shrugged, pausing for a moment almost as if inspecting his work.

You glared at him and he ignored it, dipping back down to nip at your shoulder. You hit him, startled by his brazen behavior. Although at this point, you fully expected it from him. Lando pulled back just enough to catch your eyes, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “See? I knew it,” he cackled. “You really are into it. Couldn’t stop yourself, could you?”

“You are insufferable,” you fumed, “in-fucking-sufferable.”

“Maybe,” he replied nonchalantly, leaning in to meet your eyes this time. “But you love it. Admit it.”

You rolled your eyes, but the heat rising in the back of your neck told him everything.

“I’ll take that as a yes, you know it’s a part of my charm, don’t you?”

You hated that he wasn’t entirely wrong.

[syluss-karaoke-teacher]

Love and Deepspace - Nightly Rendezvous - Part I, Xavier

The teaser for the new quad banner has me in such a chokehold I needed to drop everything and write some smut scenarios! The first one up is Xavier~

Word count: 2534 words

MDNI! Tags and main text under the cut. You have been warned.

NOTE: As of now this fic hasn't been posted on AO3, but if I do decide to post it, it will be under the username @/n_moonbreeze. All other uploads on any other websites are non-authorized. I do not own any part of Love and Deepspace as an IP, but I do own this piece of fanfiction, and you are not allowed to repost it, copy it or otherwise claim it as your own.

That's it, enjoy! ❤️

Tags: reader!MC, fem!reader, PWP, semi-public sex, PIV, oral (f!receiving), ripping clothes, dom!Xav undertones, not beta-read we die like Grandma

Xavier – Misty Silhouette

Xavier!! Could you and Miss Hunter do me a favor? I need to be out of town for the weekend and there are a few new saplings that need daily watering. If you can pop into Philo, that’d be great! : ))

Xavier reads through the message again with a frown as you two walk down the alley towards Philo. Not only was most of the night spent at the annual charity ball organized by the Hunters’ Association, the rest of it would now waste away helping his so-called friend to water some dumb plants. Time Xavier could have spent with you in the barbeque restaurant that just opened in your neighborhood, for example.

He couldn’t help the impatience quickening his steps, not with how radiant you look under the street lights, hanging onto his arm as you chat with Tara over the phone. Your attention had been stolen at the ball by so many of your out-of-town colleagues you hadn’t seen in a while, so you decided to make up for it by exchanging gossip with her on the phone on your walk over to Philo. Very considerate of you towards your friend. However, it meant even less attention given to your boyfriend, who had extended his social battery to its limits ages ago.

When you finally say goodbyes on the phone and hang up, he can barely keep the sigh of relief inside himself.

“Sorry about that, Xav,” you smile and pat his arm, “it’s been a long night huh?”

“It’s alright,” he replies, “though the way here would have been faster if we had teleported.”

“But then I couldn’t have talked to Tara about the new Lumiere merch that’s launching soon!” you frown playfully, and Xavier’s eyebrow ticks in annoyance.

*

Oh, you knew exactly what you were doing. Before tonight you both had been exceptionally busy with your missions, too tired to do more than fall asleep on either one of your couches after having a quick dinner. Xavier might have a better poker face than most, but having dated him for a while now, you knew his limits well. And you especially knew what tended to happen when you pushed him to those limits.

It is no coincidence that your new dress is sinfully short, your heels high and your perfume his favorite kind. He had barely been able to tear his eyes off you ever since you exited your apartment in this get-up, doubly so at the charity ball with so many onlookers vying for your attention. You had kept up a façade of obliviousness the whole night, as if you hadn’t even noticed all the eyes on you, his especially. You knew what it did to his patience, as did the mention of his alter ego.

You feel his arm wind tighter around yours as you turn toward Philo that’s only a short distance away.

“Come on Xav, we can’t keep the saplings waiting!”

You try to hasten your steps, but instead of heels clacking on the pavement you hear a soft whoosh as Xavier’s Evol grabs the both of you. One blink later you are in the greenhouse of the flower shop, facing the snowy inner courtyard of the apartment block.

“Was that really necessary?” you say as you shrug off your winter jacket. Xavier says nothing as he removes his own coat as well and picks up the watering can, heading straight to the flower beds you assume Jeremiah had meant. You roll your eyes and sit on a cushioned garden bench near him, crossing one leg over the other as he goes over the flowers one row after the other.

“If something is bothering you, tell me. Don’t take it out on the poor plants.”

When he still doesn’t answer you tap his shin with your heel. That finally makes him turn towards you. As he does, you feel heat creeping up your neck: when did he manage to unbutton his dress shirt? You can’t help but ogle at his bare chest, barely registering him putting the watering can down and taking a few measured strides towards you.

You are brought back to your senses by him grabbing your shin. Your skin shivers under his touch, goosebumps rising against the sheer fabric of your pantyhose: expensive ones that make your legs look amazing and that accentuate your butt nicely. Xavier’s fingers warm up your skin as they travel upwards and under the hem of your dress.

“You honestly have the gall to pretend you don’t know what’s bothering me?” he asks quietly. Now you know you are pushing it. You don’t trust your voice, so you merely widen your eyes in feigned innocence and let your lips fall apart slightly.

His hand grasps your thigh tighter, and a small sigh escapes you as you feel the first sparks run up your core. He leans down towards you, and your heartbeat quickens as you feel the sapphire blue in his eyes intensify every passing second.

“We could have gone home together after making our appearances. Instead, I have to watch you talk to unimportant people for hours on end, then listen to you fawn over the phone with Tara about Lumiere of all things, and then be dragged here to tend to Jeremiah’s stupid plants. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you planned the whole thing.”

He supports himself against the bench’s backrest with his other hand as he brings his face near yours, your breaths mingling together in the chilly greenhouse air.

“I would do no such thing. How dare you accuse me of such mischief,” you puff out, your eyes boring into his in a challenge. His lips curl into a mean smirk as his fingers slip between your thighs, ghosting over your center.

“I sincerely hope you are telling me the truth. Otherwise…” his voice drops as his lips graze your earlobe, “I would be very mad indeed.”

He slides his fingers over your covered pussy, and you shiver at the contact. He circles the area around your clit lazily as he places featherlike kisses on your ear and neck. As an attempt to carry on the charade a little while longer, you gently push him further by his shoulder.

“Xavier… we can’t… do it here,” you say to him, squeezing your legs together and hoping to appear as bashful as you can in your current position. Xavier straightens himself, and you are about to freak out that he is actually going to stop, but then he grabs your knee again and pulls you further down on the bench so that your ass is hanging in the air.

“Don’t move,” he commands and pulls your legs apart. You gasp and try to balance yourself on your tippy toes as Xavier pushes your dress up to your waist. He kneels in front of you between your spread legs, placing one thigh on his shoulder and grasping the other in a firm grip.

“You had your own fun tonight, now it’s my turn,” he tells you, and before you have chance to retort, he reaches for your crotch and rips your pantyhose clean apart. Your panties are next, the equally expensive lace thong ripped at its seams and just as quickly replaced by his mouth. The moan that you let out is nothing short of lewd as Xavier licks long stripes up your pussy, collecting the slick that’s already gathered there before proceeding to tease your clit.

Xavier has many skills honed to perfection, and eating you out has to be in his top three. In an embarrassingly short time he has your thighs quivering in need, your slick dribbling down his chin and his hands bruising your thighs as he drinks his fill. When he concentrates his efforts once more on your pulsing clit, you hope that it means he is impatient enough to make quick work of you and fuck you stupid sooner rather than later. He lets you rock your core against his face, bury your hands into his hair as you chant his name into the empty greenhouse, chasing your high shamelessly. It’s when you catch his eyes in the darkness, his pupils almost completely blown and staring straight into your soul that makes you unravel: your body tenses like a primed bowstring, back arching off the bench as you spill into his mouth.

He leads you through the aftershocks of your orgasm, which lulls you into a false sense of hope. It is when he releases your other thigh only to push two fingers into your heat that you realize there is no easy release in sight.

“Xavier—” you try to interrupt but a light suck on your oversensitive bud is enough to cut you off. Xavier pumps his fingers steadily, curling against your sweet spot with practiced precision. Heat pools inside you quickly, but the oversensitivity from your first orgasm keeps you on an uneasy edge: never too much, never enough. You try to eye the bulge straining against his pants, but another measured lick at your core is enough to distract you.

“I told you I would have my fun,” he finally responds, lifting his head up just enough to lock eyes with you. Your thigh that’s not on his shoulder has started to shake, so he takes off your shoes and guides both your thighs around his face and neck, effectively burying his face in your crotch as his fingers continue to tease you towards another release. “You are done only when I say you are.”

And just like that he continues to wreck you as you struggle to retain some semblance of dignity, still vaguely aware of the fact that you are debasing Jeremiah’s place of work. After teetering on the edge for god knows how long the second orgasm hits you like a bolt of lightning, and you feel yourself leaking an embarrassing amount. By the time Xavier finally pulls away he looks positively pussy-drunk, his face red with arousal and a fine sheen of sweat on his brow.

“You are divine,” he drawls as he pulls his fingers out and massages your quivering thighs. “By the stars, you make me weak.”

“Xav… please, take me,” you plead, already close to tears and hoping your begging would be enough to make him forget his ire. Xavier stands up and pulls you with him, kissing you ferociously. You moan at the taste of yourself on his lips and use the opportunity to slide your hands across his bare chest, scratching the pale skin with your nails. Xavier growls into your mouth at the contact and lifts you up by your hips, carrying you to the floor-to-ceiling glass windows.

He puts you down and twirls you around so you are facing the snowy courtyard. The lights in the greenhouse are out, and there aren’t many people walking outside at this hour anyway, but the possibility of someone passing by and looking in is still non-zero. The thought of it makes your heart race, but Xavier gives you no time to ruminate on it.

“Lift up your dress.”

You swallow heavily as you lean your cheek against the cold window and follow his order. His thumb circles the hole he ripped in your pantyhose, spreading your slick around your shivering skin.

“Such a pretty girl when she’s obedient,” he sighs and kneads the flesh of your ass. You make a keening sound and your hole clenches around nothing. You perk your ass upwards in a silent plea and you hear Xavier curse softly. He unzips his pants, and after a small eternity you feel his thick cock slide against your folds.

“Just so you know… I won’t be easily satisfied tonight,” he says as he pushes inside you, your sopping pussy making the intrusion effortless. “So you better give me a good show if you want to make up for your earlier behavior.”

He slips two fingers into your mouth and presses down on your tongue as he begins a brutal pace, the filthy sounds echoing in the greenhouse. Soon enough his cock renders you dumb, makes you babble nonsensically as you try widen your stance to take his cock in deeper, deeper—

“Xav, s-so good, just like that, can feel you in my fucking stomach,” you groan as he pistons into you. You see his dim reflection on the glass, a steady presence behind you. He uncovers your breasts by yanking down your dress and grabs them to ground you to him better. He seems and feels completely unbothered by the possibility of anyone seeing you.

The glass fogs up and you draw nonsensical patterns onto it as you desperately try to hold yourself up. Your core buzzes, bordering on uncomfortable, your senses assaulted from all directions. The moment you feel your hold on the window slipping Xavier pushes you further into it, winding an arm around your waist and lifting your other thigh with his other arm. You are now completely pushed up against the window, and if anyone was to pass through the courtyard, they would have no trouble seeing Xavier pound into your sopping cunt. The thought of it makes you shake and whine in his grasp.

“You like this, don’t you?” Xavier groans into your ear. His thick length pushes now even more firmly into your g-spot in this angle, and you swear you see stars appear in your vision. “So needy for my cock that you don’t care who might see?”

You make an affirmative whine and let your head fall back on Xavier’s shoulder. He uses the opportunity to suck a hickey on your neck, biting down so hard it makes you cry out in pain.

“Promise me you won’t ever tease me like this again, not after such a long break. Otherwise…” he trails off as he pulls you against his chest impossibly tight, his thrusts becoming fast and shallow, “I can’t guarantee I won’t do this in the bathroom of the next ball, or whichever event you decide to act out at.”

You feel your eyes roll back into your head at the image of it and you feel yourself clench down on his cock. You both moan in unison and Xavier’s grip on you tightens into a bruising one.

“My filthy girl, fuck—” he moans and ruts into you like an animal in heat. The hand around your waist dips down to rub your clit, and the already burning nerves explode, rushing you to the most intense orgasm you have felt in a while. Your pulsing core brings him to completion as well, and Xavier buries himself inside you to the hilt, vocalizing his pressure through open-mouthed kisses he leaves on your upper back.

Later he has to teleport you back to your apartment, as along with the evidence of your nightly activities running down your thighs, your dress is a crumpled mess, and your neck and shoulders are littered in hickeys. Xavier has the decency to look at least a bit guilty, but you both know it won’t be the last time the two of you decide to act out.

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A/N: let me know your thoughts in comments and tags, and please reblog this if you liked it!! It helps the post find a bigger audience ^_^ My ask box is also open for requests. Zayne is probably next on the list, so stay tuned!

[howlsofbloodhounds]

If killer had the chance do you think he'd kill nightmare / torture or would he just leave? Though it would probaly depend on the stage right

I think he fantasizes about revenge, about all the things he wants to do to Nightmare. He may even act out these fantasies on others instead, back when he was trapped under Nightmare. I think he ruminates over it a lot under Nightmare. I think he’d enjoy seeing Nightmare in pain and suffering, especially if it was because of something he did or said. Possibly even if it’s only on his behalf even.

But I also think he’s too scared of Nightmare. He sweats when Nightmare even touches him. He sweats when talking about or thinking about him. He doesn’t like when his attention is on him. He doesn’t seriously consider the possibility he could ever do anything to escape or win or fight back against Nightmare physically.

He doesn’t even try to resist when Nightmare chokes him unconscious. He just focuses on trying to heal Nightmare’s bruised ego, and explain what he meant. He doesn’t even bother trying to say that his words of advice wasn’t him trying to insult Nightmare, or imply that he thought nm was weak.

He’s not aware of his fear or able to completely understand or process his fear in Stage 2, which is also in large part why he finds it difficult to understand why he says or does certain things in relation to Nightmare.

In Stage 2 he doesn’t much believe he feels anything at all—detached from the emotions behind his revenge fantasies, detached from the emotions of his kidnapping (if he’s even completely 100% sure that it was real), detached from the emotions of his torture and punishments and the pain inflicted on him as soon as it’s passed—often back to the state of derealization towards his own memories, emotions, and experiences if there’s no evidence left behind.

(Probably one reason he may be apprehensive about the idea of healing physical wounds and scars or trying to ease any of the body’s pain. He sees the benefits and can’t afford to be disabled physically and deemed useless and discarded of, but the pain and injuries and scars are the only things his mind has to reliably latch on to. Something that was real.)

I think his fear of Nightmare would only heighten after his escape. He misses the familiarity Nightmare brings, but he also fears him. Even if he’s not aware of it in Stage 2, he’s likely to do and say things now that he’s free as a result of his fears and be unable to fully comprehend or understand why.

(For example, bringing back the idea of Killer being interested in the possibility of Color absorbing his soul.

He may reason this away as scientific curiosity, or a desire to understand Color more and try to connect, or even a desire to control. All can be correct, but what can also be correct is that he’s scared—that when he’s in Stage 1, he’s scared and terrified. And he’s looking for something that makes him feel safe from the person who makes him feel safe, even if he’s not able to process that given the Stage he’s in.

If killer associates power and strength and control with safety, that’s color. He just wields his power differently than the human and nightmare did, differently than killer has or would.

Color wields with kindness and integrity and justice and patience, something that still appeals to a part of killer. Even if he often has a hard time understanding or trusting it in the beginning, and likely still from others.)

I think Killer would love to have revenge. Likely ruminates and thinks about it often, possibly even draws or writes or talks about it with Color sometimes. But i think he’s far too afraid to do anything about that—and that fact also holds him back.

He doesn’t think he’s truly free from Nightmare, not really. He doesn’t think he’s strong enough deep down, he doesn’t think he’s “won” the game between them, doesn’t think he’s earned his freedom—not until he wins.

He probably thinks his escape with Color is a new game or a test, maybe a dream at some points, even if a lovely one—for a long while. Often just waiting for the facade to fall around him, or the shoe to drop, or some new entity stepping in to seize control over him if he starts to believe that it’s finally, truly over. Most days he just clings to the idea that Color is at least real, and that has to be enough.

It has to.

[merlincmgirl]

Jealousy - Jango Fett x FReader - NSFW

Summary: When Jango catches his clones looking at you and flirting with you, he decides to remind them that you belong to him. Prime is the one who gets nice things.

Characters: Jango, Fox, Cody, Clone Cadets

Pairing: Jango Fett x F!Reader

Word Count: 5,898

Warnings: biting, marking, oral (male receiving), thigh riding, fingering, spanking, PinV sex, dom Jango, possessive!Jango, mentions of breeding, dirty talk, derogatory terms, Jango does not respect his clones

Author's Note: This was the first fic of this collection that I started writing, and it holds a special place in my heart. It feels so nice to end this with the one and only. He's a bit of an asshole in this, but after everything that Jango has gone through in his life, he's allowed to have some issues.

Translations:

Manda - the state of being Mandalorian in mind, body and spirit

ner mesh'la riddur - my beautiful spouse

riddur - spouse

Jango wasn’t blind. He was very aware of his clones and how they seemed to revolve around you wherever you went. A part of him was amused as he watched his carbon copies fawn over you. His love for you must be engrained into his DNA, a part of him just like his limbs or his sense of manda. He had loved you for years, way before he had been offered this role by Tyrannus, and he was pleased that you had accepted his offer to follow him to Kamino to build an army of clones for the Republic.

Another part of him hated it. It caused something dark and ugly to curl underneath his breast bone every time one of his clones looked at you in a way that you only received from him. Their eyes followed you when you walked by, they offered you help even when you were doing nothing. He had even seen one of his copies blush heavily at making you laugh and had to be caught by his batch mates when you had left. Jango had made sure that the clone was doing suicide runs around the whole of the Kamino base. Twice.

No. If he had his way, you wouldn’t interact with them at all. He’d keep you well away from their leering looks and pathetic flirtation attempts. Keep you in your private quarters, round with child and being doted on by him. But he was powerless to say no to you, especially when you complained of being bored whenever Boba was sent to his classes and he was training the clones along with the Cuy’val Dar. So he had agreed to allow you to help, mostly becoming an ambassador between himself and the long necks. He hated dealing with them, and you normally had the grace and patience to do so in his stead.

So as he watched his clones – from one of the Commander batches he was sure – speak with you in the hangar, he couldn’t help but clench his fist and feel a tight, burning feeling in his chest. You were smiling at whatever Kote and Fox were saying, and they were returning your kindness in full force. He was sure that Fox was leaning in closer to you.

“CC-2224, CC-1010, why are you not in your classes? I didn’t realise that Alpha-17 allowed his men to slack off whenever they felt like it” Jango’s voice boomed in the hangar. The two clones in front of you stiffened and quickly fell into attention and saluted to him. Guilt swirled in you, not wanting the troopers to get into trouble because of something you did.

“Jango, I was just asking them to help carry the deliveries I received to our rooms. It’s my fault they were running late” you excused, smiling softly at your riddur.

Jango didn’t say anything, but kept his eyes trained on his clones in front of him. Neither had relaxed their position, their obedience engrained and trained into them. Their eyes were fixed at a point over his shoulder as he stepped closer towards you. Even after all these years with you, he still savoured the way you relaxed into him as soon as he was close enough to do so. It was like you found safety only in his arms. Resting a hand on your lower stomach, he tugged you slightly against his front. Your ass pressed into the curve of his hip.

Letting out a little gasp, you couldn’t help but blush at Jango’s touch. He was normally quite reserved when you two were in company, preferring to not highlight his weakness to others. Wanting to keep you away from any harm or danger. Your noise didn’t go unheard, because you could see both troopers cheeks start turning red.

“Then what are you still doing here, troopers? You have your orders” Jango demanded, hard gaze boring into them.

“Yes, Prime, Sir!” they both chorused, refusing to look at either you or Jango. Instantly the two troopers in front of your snapped into movement, it was like they had suddenly been released from something that had kept them frozen and paralysed to the spot. Straight away they began to move to the crates that held your supplies and deliveries that had been imported from around the galaxy.

Sighing at your husband’s heavy and stern touch with the troopers, you shook your head and stepped away from him. “Kote, Fox, thank you for helping me with them. It’s very much appreciated, I’ll be sure to inform Alpha-17 of how helpful his men are and why they were late” I said, sending them a small thankful smile.

“Of course ma’am” Kote nodded, before almost shoving his brother and his crate out of the door in front of him.

“You don’t have to be soft with them” Jango stated, hooking a finger into your belt and dragging you back towards him.

Stumbling slightly as you landed against his front, you turned in his arms, sliding your hands over his chest plate and around his neck, your fingers instantly becoming entwined into the small curls at the back of his neck. “And you don’t have to be so hard on them, my love” you reminded, heart aching at the training that the clones had to go through. Seeing his mouth open to defend the training and cloning process once more, you placed your hand over his mouth, sighing softly. “I know, they’re trained soldiers meant for the Republic. I don’t want to argue with you about this again” you said softly, resting your forehead against his.

Jango slid his arms around your waist, tugging you even closer to him as you shared a Kedable kiss with him, sharing your breaths with him, the life that flowed through you and into him. He couldn’t help but want to bring you even closer, to feel your skin pressed against his, to hear your moans and gasps echo in his ears as he took such good care of you. Running a hand up the span of your back, he allowed himself to feel your warmth as he nuzzled his nose into yours. Reaching it’s target destination, his hand gripped the back of your neck, tilting your head up to meet his in a soft, barely there teasing kiss.

“You know, riddur, those clones see you as their savoir. You’re the one that they turn and watch whenever you walk by. The one that they all clamber to get even a moment of your attention” Jango whispered, laying gentle kisses from the corner of your lips, across your jaw and to the sensitive spot just underneath your ear. He enjoyed the way you shivered at the feel of his hot breath against you, sending goosebumps erupting over your skin.

“It’s because I’m one of the only women of their species on this planet” you rolled your eyes, dismissing his words. The clones had never interacted with a woman outside of their trainers, it was only natural they would want to speak with you and be close to you.

He hummed out a negative, shaking his head slightly, causing your jaw to tingle at the feel of his stubble brushing against you. “Because you’re part of me, loving you is written into my DNA” he breathed, amused at the shiver that ran through you at the feel of his warm breath caressing your ear.

You were momentarily stunned by his words, surprised at their softness. Your breath caught in your throat and you felt your heart pound a little harder as you gripped onto his chest plate tighter, not wanting to let go.

“But you’re mine, they don’t get to have you” he claimed, the hand on the back of your neck tightening once more as his other came up to cup your throat. Jango didn’t squeeze, just rested it there as he guided your face up to his, looking in your eyes as they dilated slightly with the desire he was building inside of you.

Mouth suddenly going dry at his words, you could only nod and wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him even closer to you. It wasn’t a secret that Jango was mostly indifferent to his clones, if not actively thought of them as canon fodder, but he had never been outright jealous of them before. You had only been talking with Kote and Fox briefly, what had brought this on?

“What do they call me, riddur?” he purred against your neck, laying kisses along the delicate skin as he kept the pressure light.

He was teasing you, drawing this out longer than he normally would. You knew that he was going to make you beg for him, he seemed in that kind of mood today. What had happened between this morning where he had kissed you and Boba goodbye at breakfast to now? The thought quickly fled your brain as you felt a warning squeeze around your throat. Oh, he wanted an answer.

“Prime, they call you Prime” you murmured, voice shaking slightly as you tried to find the words he wanted.

“That’s right, I’m Prime. The original, the first one, the most important” he confirmed, teeth beginning to graze against the hollow of your throat.

“Jango, you have nothing to prove – to anyone – least of all me” you reminded, tilting your head back slightly to give him more room. He was starting to become firmer in his kisses, working marks and bruises on your neck that you would display with pride. Carding a hand through his curls to try and soothe the agitation in him, you gasped as he nipped at your skin.

“Oh ner mesh’la riddur, I’m not proving anything, just giving them a little reminder” he smirked, pulling back to admire the bruises that was already starting to blossom on your neck.

The intoxicating atmosphere between you two was cut short however, as the door pinged, signalling it was opening. Stiffening, you went to step away from Jango, to a more respectable distance before his arms gripped tightly to your waist, keeping you pinned against his front. There was no hope of breaking his hold, it felt like durasteel was wrapped around you.

Blushing heavily at being caught in a compromising position, you risked a glance up to see who had disturbed you. It was Kote and Fox. No doubt coming back to collect the rest of the crates that was in the hangar. They stopped, eyes widening as they spotted you and Jango.

“2224, 1010, you will stand outside and keep watch” Jango ordered sharply, eyes catching the slight tinge of rouge on their cheeks at his words and the implications of them. Satisfied that this would no doubt spread through the ranks of the clones once he was finished with you, he dismissed them with a nod to the door.

You however, had never felt so exposed, like all your nerve endings were on fire at what Jango wanted to do. Embarrassment warred with the want to also have him fuck you for everyone to see and hear. You weren’t a stranger to the looks that Jango accumulated when he walked around the base from some in the Cuy’val Dar. This would no doubt spread like wild fire among everyone. You felt pride curl up in your chest at the thought that everyone would know just how much Jango adored you and wanted you, enough to not even wait to get back to your quarters it would seem.

As the door shut behind them, Jango scooped you up into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you over to the crate nearest said doors. You groaned at the feel of his codpiece pressing into the apex of your thighs, rubbing against you with every step that he took. He settled you back on your feet and you couldn’t help but raise a judgemental eyebrow at him. Did he think he was bring subtle? Bringing you close to the door so everyone could hear.

“Strip, I don’t think you’d want me to rip your pretty clothes when the time comes to walk back to our rooms” he instructed, tugging on the neckline of your shirt.

“Didn’t think you would mind, riddur. I half expected you to want to carry me through the halls naked” you scoffed, shaking your head at him affectionately as you began to pull your shirt up over your head. As you threw it off, a hand snapped up to grip your jaw firmly, pressure making your lips part and a small whine to escape at the rough hold. Heat raced through you at that, and you weren’t surprised to feel your cheeks redden a little more.

“If I wanted everyone to see what you looked like, I would have told them to stay and watch as you screamed on my cock. But only I get to see that. Not those lab rats” he spat out, eyes heated as he stared down into your own.

Taking in a shaky breath, you nodded your understanding as heat flooded through you. Clenching your thighs to ease the pressure that was building behind your clit, your hands began to reach for your flight pants and shove them down over your hips until they pooled on the floor at your feet. Stepping out of them and your boots, you flicked them away from you, not bothering to look as you kept your eyes on your riddur.

“Good girl, you look so beautiful, my perfect riddur” he praised, hand coming up to your back to undo the chest band that kept your breasts hidden from view.

Instantly the cold air in the hangar hit your form, your nipples already pebbling and hardening under the cool and windy weather of Kamino. Stifling a moan at the feel of them hardening, you bit your lip and widened your legs a little.

Jango’s hand came up to tweak at your nipple, enjoying the pained gasp that you let out at his touch. He couldn’t get enough of your breasts, could imagine them swelling up and filling with milk when you decided to give him another child. The thought had him hardening even further in his compression suit and his codpiece was becoming even more uncomfortable.

“Go on, mesh’la, get me nice and ready to fuck your needy little hole” he ordered, hands coming to your shoulder to push you onto your knees in front of him.

Unable to help the moan that escaped you as you were trapped between his broad, strong body and the crate at your back, you spread your thighs as you got down onto your knees in front of him. With a lot of practice, you deftly undid the codpiece, dropping it to the side of you with a quiet thud of metal against metal.

You could see the bulge pressing against his compression suit and couldn’t help yourself as you pressed a soft kiss against the straining fabric.

“Fuck! Sweetheart! You’re going to kill me” he groaned, fingers trailing up from your shoulders to your neck.

Giggling softly at the tickling sensation, you worked to undo his pants, pushing them down off his hips enough for his cock to spring up. His cock was fully hard, already leaking pre-cum from the tip. He was a nice size and thick, you knew you would be feeling him tomorrow.

He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, tugging it down slightly and letting out a muffled moan. “Open up, sweetheart” he instructed, hooking his thumb into your mouth to guide it open. Your hands clenched on your thighs, as you felt your pussy clench around nothing. God you couldn’t wait to take him into your mouth, to taste him as he pushed in with every roll of his hips.

Keeping your teeth out of the way, and your tongue out, Jango tapped the head of his cock onto your tongue before pushing into your mouth. The musky, salty taste of him had you moaning, legs spreading just a bit wider as he pushed himself even further into your mouth. You breathed through your nose, keeping your breathing calm as you lathed the underside of his cock with your tongue.

“Good girl, your mouth feels so good. So perfect around my cock” he grunted, hand coming to slide into your hair and tugging slightly on the strands.

As you got used to the feel of him once more pressed inside of you, resting in your mouth, you gave his thigh two taps with your fingers. The sign between you that he could continue.

“Stay there” he muttered, fingers carding through your hair before he tightened his grip on them. You nodded, knowing what he wanted and relaxing your throat muscles even further. He kept a reassuring hand on your cheek as he pushed even further into your mouth until your nose was pressed to the wiry, course hair at the bottom of his cock. “Ohh, good girl, taking all of me in your throat. Just relax, I’ll let you breathe in a second” he groaned, feeling the muscles spasm around his cock for a moment before you relaxed, breathing through your nose and sending fluttering tingles around his base.

Your hands gripped onto his sturdy thighs, eyes watering as you kept him in your mouth and waited for him to move. He was heavy in your mouth, leaving you no room to move or do anything but accept him. Squeezing your eyes shut, you whined as you fought against the urge to push him away or move.

Finally, he pulled out, just enough for you to suck air into your lungs before he thrust back in sharply, keeping that tight grip on your hair. He began fucking your face in earnest, the soft, gagging sounds as he hit the back of your throat rung in the empty room. You dug your nails into the back of his thighs, pulling him even closer to you. You wanted as much as him in your mouth as he possibly could.

“Fuck, what a little whore you are, mesh’la. Even with my whole cock in your mouth, it’s still not enough, you still need more” he taunted, brushing a tear off your cheek as he looked down at your flushed face. He took in how your mouth was stretched around his thick cock, how your cheeks were red from your tears and the lust flowing through you. Your eyes were all glazed and glassy as he fucked every thought out of your head.

You tried to moan your agreement but all it came out as was muffled and hidden behind the rough slap of his balls against your chin. You wanted to cry at the feel of arousal that slid from your clenching opening. Unable to resist, you slipped your hand between your thighs and into your panties.

However, it seemed like he had a sixth sense when it came to you, Jango knew exactly what you were trying to do because he flicked your hand away with a low growl; stepping even further into your spread legs and nudging them even wider so that you got no relief from the pressure that was building in your core.

“You only cum on my fingers, on my cock. What a little slut you are, getting wet and desperate just from your riddur fucking your mouth” he snapped, tugging harshly on your hair and making you cry out around his cock. He gave a few more rough rolls of his hips before he was dragging you off his cock, leaving you gasping and trying to work as much air into your lungs as possible. Thick lines of saliva connected your mouth to his cock before Jango broke them.

Hands lifted you up and settled you against him. He brushed your sweaty, strands of hair away from your face and wiped away your tears. “Shh, you did so well for me mesh’la. Taking my cock into your wonderful mouth” he cooed, shushing your unsteady breaths and kissing your cheeks. “But I’m not finished with you yet” he smirked, twisting you both around until he was sitting down on the edge of the crate behind you.

You moaned loudly as he dragged your form up his thigh plate, the ridged metal was cool against your heated skin and pressed just right between your folds and against your clit. “Jango!” you pleaded, closing your eyes as you rested against his chest.

“I know, I know riddur. I want you to ride my thigh, want you to cum on it so that everyone can see your release dripping down the metal” he chuckled mockingly, cupping your cheeks to bring you in for a passionate kiss. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your cries as you began to rock your hips against his thigh plate. He took over all of your senses as you blossomed under his touch and kisses, letting him stoke the fire that was already building inside of you.

The groove of his thigh plate pressed perfectly against your folds, but the smoothness of the metal restricted what friction you could get from it. It was maddening, each movement of your hips enough to build you up to your peak but never threw you over it.

From the smirk on his face as he watched you ride his thigh, Jango knew. The bastard!

“Come on, mesh’la, want to see you cum for me and then I promise I’ll fuck you so good, everyone on this planet will know you’re mine” he swore, sliding his fingers up your thighs and teasingly reaching the apex of your thighs before pulling away. He chuckled at your growl of frustration.

“Jango! Please!” you whined, uncaring about how loud you were being now, or the clones outside the door. You just wanted to cum, feel the pleasure rush through you as Jango kept touching you.

“My poor riddur, is this not enough? Do you need more?” he murmured mockingly sweet, laying kisses along your collarbone, his stubble scratching deliciously against you. He grazed his teeth against the thin skin before sinking his teeth into you, making sure to leave a mark that others would see later.

“Yes! Please Jango! You know I do, please!” you cried, rolling your hips against the groove, anything to provide you some kind of stimulation to send you over the edge.

He sighed heavily, seemingly put out that you weren’t following his demands. “Very well, mesh’la, I suppose I could help you” he smirked, hands coming to land on your hips and raising you up. He shushed your tired whines before gathering the slick that was covering your thighs and his cuisse plate. “You’re soaking, riddur. All this from just sucking cock and riding my thigh. What a sweet little whore you are for me. I think you deserve a reward” he purred filthily into your ear.

You shivered from the warm breath that caressed your sensitive skin and the way he was pressed against you. Before you could reply however, Jango had pushed in two of his thick fingers into your dripping cunt. Finally being filled and stretched around him had you clenching down around his fingers, hips rocking forward as you let out a loud moan.

That was exactly what you needed as you began to ride his fingers, desperate to get to the edge of completion that he had you teetering on moments ago. As he curled them just right, searching for that spot inside of you that made your brain short circuit, you raised your hips higher, slamming them down on his hand with a loud squelching noise. Any other time you’d be embarrassed about how wet you were for this man, but the way Jango was playing you and your body had you crying out for more.

The coil in your stomach was tightening as you felt your cunt clench even tighter around the fingers inside of you.

“Good girl, can feel you cyar’ika… so tight. Gonna be a good girl for me and cum?” he groaned, thumb beginning to circle your swollen bud of nerves, pushing you closer and closer to your peak. You nodded, squeezing and digging your nails into his shoulders.

“Then cum for me!”

You shattered around him, a loud cry of his name echoing around the hangar as you shook, collapsing against his chest as you both panted heavily. You could feel his hard length press against your stomach as you tried to find words to assure him you would take care of him just as soon as you regained the use of your limbs.

“Perfect for me, ner mesh’la riddur” he whispered in Mando’a, affection laced in his voice. He ran a soothing hand up and down your back, waiting for you to settle once more.

He pulled his fingers out, kissing your cheeks as he did so. When you pulled back to look at him, he kept his gaze on yours before slipping his fingers into his mouth. The moan he let out had you clenching your thighs around his, mouth falling open at just how hot he looked in this moment. Bronzed skin shiny with a light layer of sweat, dark curls beginning to stick to his temples as he sucked your release off his fingers. He ran his tongue through the gap, making sure to put on a show for you, showing just how much he loved the taste of you.

Chuckling, he lifted you up off him and turned you both around until he had you bent over the crate that you two had been leaning on. He let out an appreciative noise as he viewed your ass, squeezing your cheeks and pulling them apart.

You whimpered, feeling even more heat rush to your face at the thought of being so on display for him. Jango had seen every part of you, tasted and touched every inch of you but it still embarrassed you at how much he enjoyed taking you in.

“As delicious as you are, riddur. I can’t wait to fuck you. Want everyone to know just how well I can fuck you. They might be my clones but only I get to have you” he growled, leaning forward to press kisses up your spine before sucking a bruise onto the back of your neck. When he was satisfied at how you writhed beneath him, he pulled back but not before giving you a hard spank that landed solidly against your cheek.

The flare of pain only heightened your pleasure as you groaned, pushing your hips back to seek his.

“When I get you back to our rooms, I’m going to eat you out for hours. Gonna make you cum so many times on my face, I won’t ever forget the taste of you” he promised, running his fingers through your folds before spreading your arousal onto his cock.

“Jango, come on! Need you inside me, please” you urged him, wiggling your hips to try and entice him to fuck you.

But Jango was a stubborn bastard and all he did was chuckle, holding his cock and pushing the tip through your folds and against your clit. “You can beg sweeter than that” he murmured, hearing you groan in frustration at that.

And yes, Jango may know how to tease you and work you up into madness, but you knew all his tricks as well. And you weren’t against using them against him.

“Please riddur, my strong, brave husband. Let everyone know that I’m yours” you pleaded, biting your lip as you pushed back enough to feel him nudge against your clit once more. “Please… want you to fuck me” you whimpered, feeling the flare of heat flood through you at that.

Jango let out a loud primal snarl before he was thrusting into you in one smooth motion, holding you still as you let out a loud cry, fingers digging into the crate beneath you.

“That what you wanted? Huh, mesh’la? Want to feel me inside you, stretching out this sweet little cunt?” he hissed, gritting his teeth at the feel of your hot, tight walls squeezing and spasming around him as you got used to his cock. His hands landed on your hips, keeping you both still until you were both ready for him to move.

“Fuck! Can feel you in my throat!” you gasped, widening your legs slightly before moaning as he sunk deeper into you. “Jango!” you shouted, reaching back to cover his hand with your own. He entwined your fingers, rubbing small circles with the other one into your hip. Nodding, you tapped out your signal to go and that was all it took for Jango to fuck the life out of you.

He pulled back, cock dragging along your walls before slamming back into you, forcing the air out of your lungs as you scrambled to keep hold of the crate. His sharp thrust sent you further along the rough surface, his animalistic grunts filling the room along with the wet noise as your cunt welcomed him back in with every thrust.

Thoughts of keeping quiet fled your brain, all you could think about was Jango and how good he felt as he pinned you down and fucked you.

It felt like he was carving a place for himself inside of you, stretching and filling you in ways that you didn’t think you would ever become used to. Slick flooded around him, and you buried your face into the crook of your arm, unable to stop the loud moans and cries falling from your lips.

“So good, you’re gushing mesh’la. Is this what you needed? A nice, hard fuck to remind you that you’re mine. That you’re my riddur, my love” he chuckled filthily, hand travelling up your spine and to the nape of your neck. He squeezed it slightly, keeping you bent over for him as he railed into you.

He loved you like this, able to see your ass bounce around his cock. The sounds you let out was driving him closer to his own completion, the soft cries and moans of his name enough to have his balls tightening. He groaned against your back leaving a deceptively soft kiss to your shoulder compared to the harsh thrusts of his cock inside of you.

“That’s it, mesh’la. This little cunt was made for me. Who else could fuck you like this, huh?” he snarled, snapping his hips into yours. He didn’t give you a chance to reply, pulling you off the crate and to the floor. Arranging you on your knees, he tugged your hips back and slammed back into you, sending you wailing into the air as you threw your head back. His cock sinking deeper into you with this new position, balls hitting your clit as he fucked you into the floor.

A loud smack filled the air as he spanked your ass.

“I asked you a question!”

“You! Only you! Oh!”

“That’s right, riddur. Only me, only I can see you like this, only I can make you feel this good” he growled, reaching around your front to rub at your clit.

Unable to help it, your legs shook from the waves of pleasure that was washing over you, body quivering as Jango tilted his hips slightly to hit you at a different angle. Just as you were about to shatter around him, pushed over the edge, he pulled his fingers away from your bundle of nerves.

“Nooo! Jango, please! Please!” you begged, almost sobbing as he denied you your release.

“You’re mine!” he snarled out, squeezing your hips so hard you were sure they would be bruised tomorrow.

You nodded, words getting caught in your throat as he thrust harder into you. It felt like he was staking his claim over you, not allowing you or anyone close by to forget that.

It seemed your silence wasn’t what he wanted though, as he tangled his hand in your hair and pulled up sharply, arching your back and making you cry out, hips pushed even more into his rolling ones.

“Say it riddur!” he ordered, pinching your nipple, “say it and then you can cum.”

“I’m yours” you screamed out, not caring about who heard just as long as you could cum.

“Good girl, my good, sweet girl” he praised, hand coming down to rub at your clit.

You couldn’t stop the cry of his name as you came around his cock, clenching and squeezing him as you were forced over the edge, pleasure wracking through your trembling body. Jango couldn’t stop as his hips stuttered, thrusting two, three more times before he released his load inside of you, your name tumbling loudly from his lips.

Jango tried not to collapse on top of you, instead angling his body to the side and pulling you into his arms. The cold durasteel floor wasn’t comfortable, and he tugged you onto his chest so that you were a bit warmer and cosier against him.

Once your breaths had calmed down, and you were nuzzled into the crook of Jango’s neck, you let out a little giggle. “You didn’t even undress” you reminded him, smiling into the sweaty skin beneath you.

“Sorry, mesh’la. I promise you can undress me as much as you want when we get back to our rooms” he chuckled, wrapping his arms even tighter around you.

“Good, but I think I need a shower. I’m starting to feel sticky” you grimaced, feeling his softened cock slip out of you and his release trickle down. You pushed yourself up from his chest, taking a look at the beautiful man beneath your hands. However, Jango couldn’t hide the smug look from you. Whacking his chest you glared playfully at him. “You’re not the one that’s going to be dripping all the way back” you grouched, shaking your head at him.

“Oh mesh’la, don’t talk like that, you’ll make me want to start round 2” he smirked, tugging you back down to his chest.

“No way! You’re going to carry me back to our rooms. I don’t think my legs are going to work after that” you told him, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his lips.

“Of course, riddur” he agreed readily, eager to have you in his arms.

Frowning, you cupped his cheek, looking down into his beautiful chestnut eyes. “You know you’re the only man for me, right? No matter if these men share your face, they never will be you” you reminded him softly, wanting to reassure him after all this.

“I know love, I know. I’ve never doubted you” he assured, cupping your face and bringing your foreheads together. He took in a few deep breaths, committing you to his memory once more before pulling away with a small smile. “Now, lets get you dressed. I believe we should have the next hour or so to ourselves” he grinned, pinching your side and laughing at your squeal of surprise.

“Good! Now go and dismiss those troopers! I want my riddur all to myself” you ordered, reaching for your discarded clothes. His laughter warmed the cool room as he went to do what he was told.

[mothhball]

HELLO?

I appreciate your writings sm And these are not just words for starting requests, like I really like them. I would like to request. Jonathan crane x reader when the reader comforts him after whatever it's gonna be... So the drink will contain Gin+Creme de cacao+grapefruit juise,lime juice+pickles Hope I understood the requesting rules correctly so beforehand thank you(I rly love the idea but my cocktail is crazy 💥💥)

Gentle Patience

Nolanverse!Scarecrow x Reader

summary headcanons + physical hurt/comfort + cuddles + neck kisses + ❛ I’m sorry, I’m just—I’m just really tired. ❜

warnings stubborn, injured Jon, mentions of his past of being bullied (comic canon)

notes thank you so much for ordering and thank you even more for your lovely words <3 first time writing headcanons aaaa

! MINORS DNI !

event masterlist • main masterlist • taglist • kofi word count: n/a

God, he’s just like an injured stray cat

Expect him to try and avoid you at first, even if you live together.

And he’s surprisingly sneaky, even with a cracked rib and a limp in his step

Growing up as little bullied Jon Crane meant that he had to learn how to take care of himself FAST, and sadly, he got used to patching up wounds all by himself and toughing out the pain

Turns out his practice at sewing his masks comes in handy when he’s sewing up himself

An injured Jonathan will come home late on purpose, trying to make sure you’re asleep so you can’t fuss over him

It never works

Whenever you get the slightest suspicions that he’s out there, getting his ass handed to him, you stay up for him until he gets back

He’ll complain about it (ofc he does)

But while he’s still trying to undress and drag himself into bed, you’re already pulling him into the bathroom. His attempts to dissuade you, obviously, but it’s not working. And when he finally snaps and your grip on him falters, he feels even worse.

“I’m sorry, I’m just—I’m just really tired.” “Tired or not, we’ll need to get you fixed up…”

His injuries always look worse in the light, and he hates the brief flicker of pity in your eyes when you look at him, but he knows it’s not because you find him pathetic.

He’ll grumble and complain while you check him out, trying to play it off like you’re the crazy one for insisting to take care of him for once.

Especially at the beginning of your relationship, he’s not used to physical affection or tender touches. He’s not even used to a kind word, so he’ll be a little overwhelmed. Not that he’d tell you, of course.

But he’ll warm up, and you’ll notice. His shoulders relax, he’ll lean into your touch, and his inner monolog of beating himself up stops for a moment.

Where he once frowned and squirmed away, he now sighs contentedly as you pepper his skin with kisses, making sure to be gentle with his scrapes and bruises.

The neck kisses are his secret favorites.

For a man who seems so grand and cocky when he’s in his element, he sometimes gets scared that you’ll see in him the little boy he used to be. A victim of cruelty who couldn’t defend himself. Like he still sees himself sometimes.

It’s a little tricky to balance the urge to reassure him and the necessity to give him his space, but if he allows you to hold him afterwards, you know you’ve got the hang of it.

It’s one of those quiet moments, then. Moments when he’s exhausted and hurt, and you’re both waiting for the pain meds to properly kick in. Moments when he sinks into your arms and willingly lets himself be the little spoon.

And you know that even before he says it, he’s thankful to have you by his side.

[zylokv]

A DEAL OF CONVENIENCE — myoui mina

❝ you're my spouse on paper, however you're not my responsibility.❞

synopsis — caught in an arranged marriage with the cold and calculating myoui mina, a reluctant heir must navigate the world of power, family expectations, and a growing attraction that neither of them wanted.

word count ! — 7.06k

—myoui mina x reader !

notice — heavily inspired by @neoplatinum and a bit of queen of tears.

disclaimer ! — this story contains themes of infidelity, toxic family dynamics, and angst balanced with moments of reconciliation and growth. before diving into this story, i want to make it clear that i am not glamorizing toxic relationships, infidelity, or abusive family dynamics. additionally, the portrayal of the idols in this story is entirely fictional and does not reflect their real personalities or lives.

series masterlist !

the restaurant was a masterpiece in itself—a panoramic view of the city below, chandeliers sparkling like stolen starlight, and an air so heavy with exclusivity it almost choked you.

but it was the silence that truly got under your skin.

across the table, myoui mina sat with her hands neatly folded, her mother’s diamond-laden wrist resting lightly on her shoulder. the matriarch’s smile was polite but predatory, a practiced expression honed through decades of social maneuvering. mina’s expression, by contrast, was unreadable, her dark eyes focused on you like she was cataloging your every reaction.

“let’s not waste time,” mrs. myoui began, her voice smooth and precise, cutting through the quiet like a scalpel. “we’re here to propose a mutually beneficial arrangement. mina… needs a spouse of significant standing, someone with the competence to support her position. naturally, we thought of you.”

you blinked, barely suppressing the urge to laugh. “naturally?” you repeated, your tone dipping into disbelief. “with all due respect, mrs. myoui, i’m not interested in being a pawn in your… dynasty plans.”

mina’s gaze flickered, just for a second, but her mother’s smile never faltered. “…i understand your reservations. but this is not merely for us. your family stands to gain considerably as well. surely your father has discussed this with you?”

your stomach twisted at the mention of your father, the inevitable weight of his expectations pressing down like an iron shackle. you forced a thin smile. “what i do, mrs. myoui, is practice law. my involvement in my family’s business is minimal. i prefer to keep it that way.”

mrs. myoui’s smile finally cracked, just enough to reveal a glimmer of impatience. “that’s precisely the issue. you’re squandering your potential. but with mina by your side, you’ll have every opportunity to—”

“no.”

the word left your mouth before you could second-guess it. “with all due respect, mrs. myoui,” you added, trying to rein in your frustration, “i’d prefer to find someone who actually loves me.”

mrs. myoui’s gaze hardened, though her smile remained in place. “love is a luxury, not a necessity, in our world. and frankly, one i’m sure you’ll come to understand.” her voice was clipped now, her patience wearing thin. “but perhaps you need time to reflect on your priorities. this is an opportunity you’d be foolish to waste.”

she stood, adjusting her shawl, the subtle but deliberate shift of power unmistakable. mina rose with her, her expression still unreadable as she followed her mother out of the restaurant. you clenched your fists under the table, the quiet crack of glass snapping you back to the moment. the remnants of your drink scattered across the polished surface, a faint reflection of your anger.

------

the office door slammed shut behind you, the echo ringing in the silence that followed. your father stood in the middle of the room, his posture stiff, jaw clenched so tightly you thought it might crack. he didn’t need to speak—the storm was already brewing in his eyes.

“do you even comprehend what you’ve done?” he started, his voice eerily calm, the kind of calm that preceded an explosion.

you didn’t flinch, meeting his gaze with a defiance that felt more fragile than it looked. “i told you before, i won’t let you decide my life. not this time.”

his hand lashed out before you could process the movement. the slap wasn’t just a physical sting—it was a sharp, brutal reminder of your place in his world.

“you ungrateful child!” his voice rose, cracking like a whip in the heavy air. “everything you have, everything you are, is because of this family. and this is how you repay me? by throwing it all away?”

your head snapped to the side, the metallic taste of blood filling your mouth. your first instinct was to clench your fists, to hold your ground. but as his words continued, their weight pressed down harder than any blow could.

“i built this empire from nothing,” he sneered, his finger jabbing in your direction. “and you think you can waltz out, turn your back on it, just because you’re playing at being a lawyer?”

“it’s not playing,” you shot back, your voice rough and shaking. “it’s my life. my choice.”

another strike—this time a fist to your shoulder, sending you stumbling back against the desk. pain flared, sharp and unrelenting, but you didn’t let him see the tears threatening to spill over.

“you don’t have a choice,” he hissed. “not as long as you carry my name. you will marry myoui mina, and you will do it without complaint. or else—”

“or else what?” you interrupted, your voice rising despite yourself. “you’ll ruin me? take away everything I’ve worked for? you’ve already done that.”

his laughter was cold, bitter. “ruin you? you’ve done that to yourself. now get out of my sight before i do something i regret.”

you didn’t wait for him to change his mind. you left the room, your steps shaky but purposeful. as soon as the door closed behind you, you leaned against the wall, breathing hard. your shoulder ached, your cheek throbbed, but the worst pain was the helplessness clawing at your chest.

------

the next day started like any other, except it wasn’t. you swiped your card at the entrance of the office, and the machine beeped red. again, you tried, frowning as you wiped it against your pant leg and swiped once more. red.

“uh, excuse me?” you called to the receptionist. her name was mei—someone you usually exchanged pleasantries with on your way in. she looked up, startled, then glanced nervously at her computer.

“i… i’m sorry,” she stammered, “but it seems your access has been revoked.”

“revoked?” your voice sharpened. “that’s a mistake. i'm the head director.”

she swallowed hard, nodding as if to agree but not daring to meet your eyes. “you’ll have to check with mr. (Ln).”

an hour later, after what felt like an eternity of waiting outside the hr manager’s office, you finally got your answer. or rather, the lack of one. “your credentials have been deactivated. i’m not authorized to provide further details,” the manager said, her tone clipped and impersonal.

“you’re not authorized? this is my job. my office. i deserve an explanation,” you pressed, your frustration bubbling over.

her expression didn’t waver. “you’ll have to speak with your father about this.”

those words were the final confirmation. you left the building, the weight of it all crashing down on you. your office, your cases, your colleagues—it was all gone, just like that. erased. your father’s hand was all over this, a calculated move to corner you.

as you stepped onto the street, the world felt louder than usual. the sounds of traffic and chatter blurred together, a stark contrast to the silence that had taken over your life. with nowhere else to go, you headed for the batting cages. you needed to hit something, anything, just to feel in control again.

-----

baseball had always been your escape. the rhythmic crack of the bat against the ball, the familiar burn in your muscles, the steady stream of pitches from the machine—all of it helped drown out the noise in your head.

you were mid-swing when she appeared. mina, in a tailored coat and heels, looking absurdly out of place against the dusty field and worn equipment. she was a sharp contrast to the sweat and grime clinging to you, her pristine presence a reminder of the gulf between your worlds.

“you missed,” she remarked coldly, her voice slicing through the air as you struck the next pitch. the ball ricocheted off the cage, and you turned to her, your expression dark.

“what do you want?” your tone was sharp, the frustration of the last few days spilling over.

mina didn’t flinch. her gaze was steady, assessing, as if calculating how much effort this conversation was worth. “to end this childish act of defiance,” she said bluntly. “sign the contract. stop wasting everyone’s time.”

you gritted your teeth, gripping the bat tighter. “is that how you talk to everyone you’re trying to convince to marry you?”

“only the ones who are being stubborn.” her reply was smooth, but there was a flicker of irritation in her eyes. “you’re not the only one with things to lose here. do you think i want to be stuck with someone so… obstinate?”

“then why me?” you asked, your voice rising. “there are better options. people who’d jump at the chance to be your spouse. why drag me into this?”

she stepped closer, her heels sinking slightly into the dirt. “because you’re not entirely useless,” she said, her tone icy. “and unlike the others, you’re not a liability. that’s all that matters.”

her words hit harder than they should have, and you swung at the next pitch with more force than necessary. the ball flew into the net, the impact reverberating up your arms. “well, forgive me if i don’t find that flattering.”

mina sighed, brushing an invisible speck of dust from her coat. “you’re impossible.” she turned to leave, her voice carrying over her shoulder. “but mark my words—you’ll come around. whether you like it or not.”

you watched her walk away, the tension in your chest coiling tighter. the bat slipped from your hands, clattering to the ground. as the machine wound up for another pitch, you stood there, frozen, the weight of her words pressing down like a stone.

-----

the ballroom shimmered with opulence, the soft hum of conversation weaving through the air as glasses clinked and laughter punctuated the atmosphere. this wasn’t just any gathering—it was a display of power, a convergence of families whose names carried weight in every corner of the country.

you kept to the periphery, your discomfort masked by a neutral expression. you were here as a formality, the dutiful pawn in a game much larger than yourself. yet, despite your efforts to blend into the wallpaper, your eyes were drawn to the center of the room.

there she was.

myoui mina, the woman you were being forced to marry. she stood effortlessly poised, the epitome of control. her black dress was understated yet breathtaking, paired with diamonds that seemed to reflect her icy demeanor.

what caught your attention wasn’t just her��it was the man beside her. bambam. you recognized him instantly: the charismatic heir to an entertainment conglomerate. his easy laughter grated on your nerves as he leaned in, speaking to mina with a familiarity that felt out of place. she tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a faint, polite smile.

your grip tightened around your champagne glass. it wasn’t jealousy—no, that would imply you cared. this was something else, an irritation that churned in your chest.

her words from before replayed in your mind: “but mark my words—you’ll come around. whether you like it or not.”

a bitter taste filled your mouth, but you couldn’t deny it—she’d been right.

before you knew it, you were crossing the room.

mina’s gaze flicked toward you as you approached, her expression calm but her body tensing ever so slightly. bambam noticed you too, his smile broadening as if he’d just been let in on a joke.

“and here comes the mystery partner,” bambam quipped, his tone light but edged with curiosity. “mina, you didn’t tell me your companion was here tonight.”

mina’s lips parted to respond, but you cut in. “a private matter,” you said, your voice steady. “can i talk to my fiancé?”

bambam raised an eyebrow but stepped back with a shrug. “i’ll leave you two to it. always a pleasure, mina.”

as soon as he walked away, you turned to her, your voice dropping. “care to explain what that was about?”

mina’s eyes narrowed slightly, her voice as sharp as the diamonds she wore. “i don’t owe you an explanation.”

“don’t you?” you countered, struggling to keep your tone even. “we’re here to sign a contract, and you’re out there chatting up—”

“a family friend,” she interjected, her tone cold. “you’re making a scene over nothing.”

your jaw clenched. “this isn’t nothing. do you even care how this looks?”

she stepped closer, her voice low but laced with condescension. “looks? you’re worried about appearances now?” her lips curled into a faint smirk. “you’ve finally caught up, haven’t you? maybe you’re not as stubborn as you pretend to be.”

the words were a knife twisting in your chest because, deep down, you knew she was right. every choice had led you here, and no matter how much you hated it, there was no turning back.

you exhaled sharply, reining in your frustration. “fine. where’s the damn thing?”

mina’s smirk didn’t falter as she produced the document from her bag, her movements deliberate, almost taunting. she held it out to you, her hand steady.

“go ahead,” she said, her tone detached but cutting. “sign it. make it official. i told you—you’d come around.”

the pen felt heavy as you signed, the weight of each stroke pressing into your chest like a stone.

“congratulations,” you said bitterly. “we’re officially partners in misery.”

mina took the paper back, her eyes scanning it briefly before folding it and tucking it away. she didn’t say a word, her expression unreadable as she turned on her heel and rejoined the crowd.

you stayed behind, the noise of the party fading into the background as you stared after her. you hated the smug satisfaction she wore like another piece of jewelry. but most of all, you hated that she was right.

-----

the ceremony was as grand as you’d expected—ornate floral arrangements lined the aisle, the scent of white lilies suffocating in its sweetness. the pews were filled with people who barely mattered to you, their expressions either bored or falsely polite.

your palms felt clammy despite the coolness of the cathedral. you hated this—every moment, every forced smile, every expectation weighing down on your shoulders.

your father’s voice was low but firm as he leaned in close, his hand gripping your shoulder.

“this is your chance to redeem yourself,” he said, his tone laced with authority. “play your part, and you’ll have your title—and your life—back.”

you nodded stiffly, your jaw tightening as his words sank in. his grip lingered, a silent warning. you hated the weight of his expectations, but you hated the sense of inevitability even more.

as he walked away to join a group of other high-profile guests, you caught movement from the corner of your eye. mina stood near the entrance, her gaze fixed on you, her expression unreadable but sharp, as if she’d overheard every word.

you turned away quickly, adjusting your cuffs in an attempt to ignore the way her presence made your skin prickle.

the ceremony began soon after, the sound of traditional music filling the hall as family elders stepped forward, placing ceremonial heirloom decorations on you. the intricate gold and jade pieces felt heavy, their symbolism not lost on you. it was a visual reminder of what this marriage meant—a merging of legacies, not lives.

as the officiant called for silence, your eyes scanned the crowd. mina’s family sat in the front row, their posture mirroring her composed elegance. her father gave you a curt nod, while her mother’s smile was thin and calculating.

your own family wasn’t much better. your father was in his element, mingling with the likes of minatozaki sana, who greeted him with a laugh that didn’t quite reach her eyes. hirai momo and park jihyo exchanged pleasantries with the other guests, while nayeon and chaeyoung seemed more interested in observing the dynamics than participating. bambam, of course, was here too, his charm drawing smiles from every corner of the room—except yours.

the music shifted, signaling mina’s entrance.

when she appeared at the end of the aisle, the room fell silent. she was a vision, her gown shimmering with delicate embroidery that caught the light. diamonds adorned her neck, wrists, and ears, each piece selected to showcase her status.

your chest tightened as she approached, her steps deliberate and her face a mask of calm detachment. she looked straight ahead, her expression betraying nothing, but you couldn’t help feeling like every step she took was a silent victory over you.

the ceremony continued, each word from the officiant feeling heavier than the last.

“do you, myoui mina, take—”

“i do,” she said, cutting him off before he could even finish. her tone was clipped, almost impatient, as if this were just another business transaction.

your turn came, and you hesitated, the weight of her gaze pressing down on you.

“i do,” you finally said, the words bitter on your tongue.

when it came time for the rings, her fingers were steady as she slid the band onto yours. your hands, in contrast, felt awkward, trembling slightly as you returned the gesture.

“you may kiss the bride,” the officiant declared.

you turned to her, your heart thudding in your chest. her gaze was steady, cold, and challenging.

the kiss was supposed to be brief, for show, but the moment your lips met hers, something shifted. her lips were soft but unyielding, her lack of response initially infuriating. but then you felt it—an undercurrent of something neither of you could name.

for a split second, the world around you disappeared. her perfume was intoxicating, her proximity overwhelming. it wasn’t love, but it wasn’t nothing, either. when you pulled back, her eyes met yours with a flicker of something—frustration? curiosity?

“well,” she murmured under her breath, her voice cold but tinged with irony, “that was unexpected.”

the applause snapped you back to reality, and you turned away quickly, your face hot with a mixture of embarrassment and something else you refused to acknowledge.

as you walked back down the aisle together, her hand resting lightly on your arm, she leaned in just enough for only you to hear.

“i told you,” she whispered, her tone smug, “you’d come around soon enough.”

you glanced at her, irritation and something close to admiration warring in your chest. she was right, and she knew it.

-----

the reception was held in a venue that oozed luxury—high ceilings adorned with intricate chandeliers, marble floors reflecting the soft glow of golden lights, and floral arrangements so extravagant they looked like they belonged in a museum. the murmurs of the guests filled the air, their chatter laced with curiosity and speculation.

“so that’s the myoui’s new pawn,” someone whispered.

“a lawyer, huh? they’re probably hoping to use them to navigate out of future messes,” another added.

you ignored the gossip as best as you could, drifting toward the group of bachelors huddled near the bar. the champagne flowed freely, and the conversation veered into lighthearted banter. for a while, you felt like yourself again, laughing and joking without the weight of mina’s presence looming over you.

mina, however, was always watching. from her seat near the head table, she observed you with a mix of irritation and something else she couldn’t quite name. eventually, she stood, her movements precise and deliberate, and made her way across the room.

“enough,” she said, her voice low but commanding as she reached your side. “you’ve had your fun. come with me.”

you raised an eyebrow, the corners of your lips tugging into a faint smirk. “yes, dear?”

her glare could have frozen fire.

without waiting for your response, she grabbed your wrist—not hard, but firmly enough to make it clear she wasn’t in the mood to argue—and led you to a round table where her friends were seated.

“everyone,” she began, her voice cool and composed as ever, “meet my spouse.”

hirai momo was the first to speak, her grin wide and mischievous. “so, you’re the lucky one. or unlucky, depending on how you look at it.” she laughed, the sound light and teasing.

“i’ll take it as a compliment,” you replied, matching her tone.

bambam leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable but his words sharp. “you know, not everyone would be brave enough to marry into the myoui family. some might call it reckless.”

you shrugged, unbothered. “or smart, depending on how you look at it.”

mina’s lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze darting briefly to bambam before settling back on you. she didn’t intervene, but her posture was tense.

minatozaki sana, on the other hand, said nothing. she sipped her drink, her eyes flicking between you and mina with a look that bordered on disdain. you could feel her silent judgment—it was almost palpable.

momo, however, was surprisingly easygoing. she asked about your work, cracked a few jokes, and seemed genuinely amused by your answers. you found yourself relaxing slightly, even enjoying the conversation.

the conversation flowed, and you found yourself surprisingly at ease with momo. she laughed at your jokes, and when she gestured too animatedly, her bracelet caught on the edge of her glass, nearly toppling it over.

“careful,” you said gently, reaching to steady her drink before any champagne spilled. you untangled her bracelet with a deftness that surprised even yourself.

“thanks,” momo said, her cheeks pink as she glanced up at you.

“no problem.” you gave her a soft smile, your fingers brushing hers briefly as you handed the bracelet back.

a little while later, momo excused herself to retrieve something from her bag but returned moments later, clutching her heel awkwardly.

“what’s wrong?” you asked.

“the strap broke,” she said, holding the elegant shoe aloft.

without hesitation, you bent down, taking the shoe from her hand. “let me see.”

“you don’t have to—” she started, but you were already examining the strap.

“got it,” you said after a moment, slipping the shoe back onto her foot and fastening the strap securely.

“wow,” momo laughed, clearly charmed. “if this whole lawyer thing doesn’t work out, you’ve got a career in shoe repair.”

“i’ll keep that in mind,” you replied with a grin.

from across the table, mina’s gaze hardened, her lips pressing into a thin line.

sana, meanwhile, looked on with a furrowed brow, her eyes narrowing slightly at the interaction. it wasn’t jealousy, exactly—it was more like disdain, as if she found the display of chivalry misplaced.

“you’re good with your hands,” momo teased, her smile wide.

before you could respond, mina’s voice cut through the air like ice. “they're also good at keeping to themselves.”

the tension was palpable, and momo quickly shifted her focus back to her drink. mina’s pointed heel pressed lightly against momo’s foot beneath the table—not enough to hurt, but enough to send a clear message.

“everything okay?” you asked, glancing at mina.

“perfectly fine,” she replied smoothly, her expression unreadable.

the rest of the evening passed in a blur of pleasantries and forced smiles. though you tried to ignore the brewing storm in mina’s eyes

-----

the small town was breathtaking, its charm steeped in tradition and elegance. nestled in the foothills of japan, it was the pride of the myoui clan—a place where time seemed to slow, and every corner spoke of history. the streets were lined with quaint wooden houses, their rooftops adorned with snow from the crisp winter air, and the distant chime of temple bells echoed softly.

you walked beside mina, her cold demeanor wrapped in an aura of regal elegance. she wore a black velvet dress that seemed to ripple with every step, her jewelry—a bracelet, earrings, and a ring—sparkling faintly under the town's lantern light. her look was polished and calculated, every detail deliberate.

you, on the other hand, wore a black turtleneck paired with tailored trousers and a sleek belt. the coat draped over your arm was more for appearances than comfort, and the watch on your wrist—a gift from her family—matched the sheen of her jewelry.

“this place,” you murmured, taking in the view of the traditional ryokan where you were staying, “it’s almost unreal.”

mina spared you a glance, her expression unreadable. “it’s home.”

she didn’t elaborate, instead gesturing for you to follow her to the town's most esteemed restaurant. it was nestled behind an ornate gate, its walls entwined with creeping ivy and lush greenery. stepping inside felt like entering another world—everywhere you looked, there were plants of every shade, their vibrant colors offset by the warm wood and soft lighting.

“this is impressive,” you admitted, though the compliment wasn’t directed at her.

mina simply nodded, selecting a table near a cascading indoor waterfall. as she sat down, she adjusted the hem of her dress, a practiced elegance in every motion.

“take my picture,” she said suddenly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“seriously?” you groaned, though a grin tugged at your lips. “here? now? you know how awkward it’s going to look with you posing in front of all these plants?”

she raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharp. “do it.”

you sighed, pulling out your phone. “alright, fine. but don’t blame me if you look weird.”

she posed, her face tilted slightly to catch the light just right. “stop talking and focus.”

“focus? you look like you’re trying to win a staring contest with that fern,” you teased, snapping the picture anyway.

she didn’t respond, though the faintest twitch of her lips betrayed her amusement.

dinner passed without incident, the food as exquisite as the setting. you traded only minimal conversation, the tension between you both ever-present.

when you finally returned to the ryokan, the air was colder, and mina pulled your coat tighter around her shoulders.

“you’re keeping that, huh?” you quipped.

“it’s warm,” she replied simply, shrugging it off at the doorway.

“you go on ahead,” you said, hesitating at the entrance. “i’m going to take a walk.”

she paused, her expression flickering with something unreadable. “don’t stay out too late.”

you nodded, watching as she disappeared into the warm glow of the ryokan.

wandering the streets, your thoughts drifted. the quiet town was a stark contrast to the chaos of the past weeks, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. as you passed a small flower shop, a memory surfaced—one you hadn’t thought of in years.

a girl had been robbed here once, near the very same shop. you’d been nearby, and without thinking, you’d given her your coat to shield her from the winter chill. the details of her face escaped you now, but you remembered her elegance, her soft voice, and those striking boba eyes.

smiling faintly at the memory, you stepped inside the shop and ordered a bouquet—simple yet elegant.

when you returned to the ryokan, bouquet in hand, you found mina lounging in the common room, now dressed in silk pajamas that looked no less regal. she glanced up, her expression unreadable.

“what’s that?” she asked, nodding toward the flowers.

you held them out to her. “for you.”

she took them, her fingers brushing yours for the briefest moment. “you’re full of surprises,” she said, though her tone was dry.

“i aim to impress,” you replied with a half-smile, settling on the couch as she arranged the flowers in a nearby vase.

the conversation turned quieter, more contemplative.

“why did you agree to this marriage?” she asked suddenly, her eyes fixed on the vase.

you hesitated. “because of my father,” you admitted vaguely.

she frowned slightly but didn’t press further. “and why did i choose you?”

you looked at her, genuinely curious. “why did you?”

“because the other clans would have been a disaster,” she said bluntly. “the takahashi clan is too reckless, the oh family is steeped in scandals, and the sakuragi name carries no real weight anymore. you, at least, are competent and... predictable.”

“wow,” you muttered, half-laughing. “you really know how to flatter someone.”

she didn’t respond, instead gesturing toward the couch. “you’re sleeping there tonight.”

“obviously,” you said, settling in.

as the night wore on, the conversation softened. she spoke briefly about being an only child, the weight of carrying her family’s legacy. you listened, your own thoughts heavy but unspoken.

eventually, you felt yourself drifting off. the last thing you remembered was the soft rustle of fabric and the faint scent of her perfume as she draped a blanket over you.

when the lights clicked off and her bedroom door closed, you were left in the quiet darkness, a strange sense of warmth settling over you.

-----

the honeymoon felt like a distant memory now. arriving back in the city, you were thrust immediately into the whirlwind of responsibilities that had been waiting for you. it was in your father’s office, a place steeped in heavy tradition and expectations, where the shift became official.

“you’ve earned this again,” your father said, his tone unusually warm as he handed over the legal head director’s seal. “i always knew you had it in you, even if you’ve made... questionable choices in the past. don’t disappoint me again.”

the weight of the title settled over you once more, but it was a weight you always welcomed. you nodded, holding the seal tightly. “i won’t.”

for a fleeting moment, there was pride in your father’s eyes, a rare sight that stirred something in you.

-----

work consumed you in the days that followed. buried under contracts and meetings, you barely noticed the time slip away. your phone buzzed a few times, but you brushed it aside, focused on finishing a particularly thorny case.

it wasn’t until the clock struck 7:45 p.m. that the messages finally caught your attention.

where are you?

you’re supposed to be here.

don’t embarrass me.

mina.

your stomach twisted. the event. you had completely forgotten.

grabbing your coat, you rushed out the door, your mind racing. you didn’t even have time to reply to her messages.

-----

by the time you arrived, the atmosphere in the grand hall was thick with tension. mina stood in the center of the room, flanked by bambam, momo, and sana. her family and their extended circles—the hirais and minatozakis—watched from the sidelines.

opposite her stood sehun, an heir you recognized immediately. his sharp features were twisted into a smirk, his voice carrying across the room.

“and this is who you trust?” sehun sneered, gesturing toward mina. “don’t act like you’re untouchable,” sehun was saying, his voice loud enough to draw attention. “your family’s wealth doesn’t protect you from everything. and you”—he pointed at mina—“should know better than to put your trust in someone like that.”

you moved quickly through the crowd, your steps purposeful but unnoticed.

bambam, to his credit, stepped forward, placing himself protectively between sehun and mina. “watch your tone,” he said, his voice firm.

sehun scoffed, brushing him off. “what are you going to do? you’re just a glorified lapdog.”

then, sehun reached for mina’s arm, his fingers just brushing her sleeve.

“enough.” your voice cut through the air like a blade.

all eyes turned to you as you stepped into the circle, your gaze locked on sehun. his hand froze mid-air before he slowly lowered it, his smirk faltering.

but mina’s gaze flickered to you the moment you moved. without hesitation, she brushed past bambam, placing her hand firmly in yours instead. her grip was cold, steady, and there was something almost defiant in the way she looked at sehun.

the room seemed to hold its breath.

“you’re late,” mina said quietly, her tone clipped.

“i know,” you murmured back.

sehun regained his composure, scoffing as he turned his attention to you. “oh, look who decided to show up. the myoui family’s latest pawn. what took you so long? busy whining over legal briefs?”

ignoring the insult, you stepped forward, keeping mina behind you. “if there’s a problem here, i’d be happy to resolve it. professionally, of course. though, judging by your tone, professionalism isn’t really your style, is it, sehun?”

his sneer deepened. “don’t act like you’re above it all. you’re nothing but a puppet the myoui family is using to clean up their messes. and when they’re done, they’ll throw you out like the trash you are.”

you exhaled slowly, forcing a calm smile. “it’s interesting you’d say that, sehun. especially considering how much your family relied on me to ‘clean up their mess’ during that little scandal last year. or did you forget how your father owes me for handling that? because i certainly haven’t.”

the color drained from his face, but he recovered quickly, scoffing. “so what? you think your ivy league education makes you untouchable? you think being a lawyer gives you any real power? you’re just a loudmouth who hides behind his desk.”

“i don't think,” you said, your voice light with mock sympathy. “i know it, and i do hide behind my desk sometimes. but when i do, it’s because i’m busy drafting paperwork that could make your life a living hell.”

his eyes narrowed, but before he could respond, you took another step closer, your smile turning razor-sharp. “and for the record, attending an ivy league school does make me smarter than you. but don’t let that stop you. if you’re so sure i’m just a ‘loudmouth,’ go ahead. take a swing. prove your point.”

the room went deadly silent. sehun’s fists clenched, his jaw ticking as he debated his options.

before he could act, mina’s hand on your arm pulled you back, her grip firm and commanding. “enough,” she said, her voice low but cutting through the tension like ice.

you turned to look at her, surprised by the faint flicker of protectiveness in her eyes. she didn’t let go until she was sure you weren’t going to push further.

as mina began to guide you away, her grip firm on your arm, the sound of rushed footsteps behind you caught your attention.

you barely had time to react before sehun’s fist connected with your jaw, sending you stumbling into mina.

gasps filled the room, the collective shock palpable.

“are you out of your mind?!” mina’s father’s voice boomed, silencing the crowd. his face was a mix of fury and disbelief as he stepped forward. “this is an outrage!”

mina was immediately at your side, her cold demeanor replaced with sharp concern. her hand hovered near your face, unsure whether to touch the growing bruise. “are you okay?” she asked, her voice lower than before but laced with urgency.

you waved her off, rolling your shoulder and straightening up, though you can taste the metallic copper on your tongue “i’m fine.”

momo, who had been on the other side of the room, pushed through the crowd, her usual lightheartedness gone. “what the hell was that?” she exclaimed, looking between you and sehun. “he just—”

sehun stood frozen, his chest heaving as he realized the gravity of his actions.

mina’s father turned to him, his glare icy. “you dare strike one of us? this is disgraceful. you’ll pay for this, boy.”

“it’s not worth it,” she said quietly, her tone sharp but steady. “don’t stoop to his level.”

for a moment, you nodded, exhaling slowly as if agreeing to let it go. but then sehun sneered, his voice loud enough for the entire room to hear.

“typical,” he said, adjusting his tie as if his punch had meant nothing. “no wonder the myouis are desperate. scraping the bottom of the barrel for help. your family’s a joke, myoui. everyone knows your father’s nothing more than a puppet, and your mother—well, she’s—”

he didn’t finish. he didn’t get the chance.

your fist shot out with precision, landing squarely on his jaw with enough force to send him sprawling to the ground. the thud of his body hitting the polished floor was followed by a stunned silence.

“don’t you dare,” you said, your voice low and venomous, “speak about my wife's family like that.”

sehun groaned, clutching his jaw as he struggled to get up. his confidence shattered, he glared at you with a mix of humiliation and rage.

the room erupted into chaos again. mina gasped, her hand instinctively reaching out but hesitating, while momo let out a delighted laugh.

“oh, this just got interesting,” momo said, her eyes sparkling as she glanced at sana. “did you see that? mina's spouse got some fight in 'em."

sana, standing off to the side, crossed her arms and raised a brow, unimpressed. “hardly seems worth it,” she muttered, though her gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary.

sehun scrambled to his feet, his face red with both anger and embarrassment. “you’ll regret that,” he spat, lunging forward.

you sidestepped easily, your movements deliberate. “sehun,” you said, your voice laced with mock sympathy, “if i were you, i’d quit while i’m ahead. you don’t want me calling your father, do you?”

sehun froze, his bravado faltering.

“that’s right,” you continued, stepping closer. “your father still owes me. remember that little scandal? who do you think cleaned that up for him? and if you think he’ll side with you over me, think again. i’m a lawyer, sehun. i don’t just fight with my fists.”

mina’s grip on your arm tightened briefly before she stepped in front of you, her icy composure unshaken. “this ends now,” she said, her voice like a blade. she glanced down at sehun with disdain. “get out before you embarrass yourself further.”

sehun opened his mouth to retort, but the weight of the room’s judgment silenced him. even bambam, who had initially moved to defend mina, stayed back, his gaze flickering between you and sehun.

“you’ve made your point,” mina said, addressing you now. her voice was firm, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes—was it gratitude? “let’s go.”

as you followed mina out, momo sidled up beside you, her grin wide. “that was incredible. one hit, and he’s down. you’re like a knight or something,” she teased, her laughter bubbling up.

mina’s gaze was sharp, but there was a flicker of something softer beneath it. “you shouldn’t have done that,” she said, her tone flat.

“and let him keep running his mouth?” you countered. “not a chance.”

momo sidled up to you, still grinning like a kid in a candy store. “that was amazing. you’ve got some moves,” she said, nudging your arm.

you chuckled, despite yourself. “don’t get used to it.”

“oh, i won’t,” momo said with a wink, her attention briefly flicking to sana, who rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath.

as the commotion settled, mina’s father stepped forward, his authoritative voice cutting through the murmurs of the guests. “this event is over,” he declared, his tone sharp and final. “thank you all for attending.”

the attendees began to disperse, their curiosity about the scandal satiated, though the lingering glances toward you and mina spoke volumes.

you exhaled deeply, the adrenaline fading and the sting of your busted lip becoming more apparent. before you could move, momo appeared at your side, her playful demeanor replaced with genuine concern.

“are you okay?” she asked, her brow furrowed as she leaned closer to inspect your lip.

“i’m fine,” you replied, brushing it off, though the taste of copper on your tongue told a different story.

“you don’t look fine,” momo countered, reaching out as if to help.

before she could, mina swept in with a cool efficiency. she grabbed a folded napkin from one of the nearby tables, her heels clicking decisively against the floor. “i’ll handle it,” she said curtly, brushing past momo without so much as a glance.

momo blinked, taken aback, then stepped aside with a small, amused smile. “guess i’m not needed.”

mina tilted your chin down slightly so you could match her height, her touch firm but not unkind, as she dabbed at your split lip. her expression was cold, but her movements were careful, her fingers brushing lightly against your skin.

“you’re reckless,” she muttered under her breath, her tone both annoyed and something else—grateful, maybe. “what were you thinking?”

you held her gaze, unfazed by her sharpness. “i was thinking you’re my wife,” you said evenly, your voice carrying a protective edge. “and no one gets to disrespect you or your family while i’m around.”

for a moment, her hand paused, her eyes searching yours as if trying to decipher your sincerity. then, with a soft exhale, she resumed cleaning the wound.

across the room, bambam watched the interaction intently, his jaw tight but his expression unreadable.

as mina finished, her mother approached, her usual proud and stoic demeanor softening as she looked at you. “thank you,” she said quietly, her voice carrying the weight of years of unyielding pride finally yielding, if only briefly.

you nodded, unsure how to respond to such unexpected gratitude.

mina’s father, however, remained stoic, his gaze assessing as he addressed you. “this could’ve gone very badly,” he said, his tone measured. “but you handled it... adequately. for now.”

you caught the subtle flicker of approval in his eyes, though he would never say it outright.

“thank you, sir,” you replied simply, your posture still formal despite the circumstances.

as the guests thinned out and the myouis regrouped, mina finally let go of the napkin, her demeanor shifting back to its usual aloofness. “you should take care of that properly,” she said, her voice clipped but softer than before.

“i will,” you replied, a small smirk tugging at your lips despite the pain. “wouldn’t want to ruin the perfect image of the myoui family’s new... what was it? ‘pawn’?”

mina rolled her eyes but didn’t respond, her lips pressing into a thin line.

as you walked away with her at your side, momo caught your eye from the corner of the room, giving you a small, conspiratorial thumbs-up. nearby, sana stood with her arms crossed, her expression as unreadable as ever, though the slightest flicker of something—approval?—crossed her face before she turned away.

the night had been far from perfect, but as you exited the venue with mina, you couldn’t help but feel that, for better or worse, you had solidified your place in this world—and by her side.

-----

end of part one.

a/n — hello! sorry for having such a long writing for the first chapter but i really loved this and i promise to continue it.

[auxmodi]

nsfw jon snow hc's ;)

im barking like a fucking dog rn

my masterlist

you could just look at him a certain way, and suddenly he’s stumbling over himself, palms sweating, trying not to make it obvious how badly he wants you. but get him alone? clothes are gone in seconds, and he’s pinning you to the nearest surface like you’re the only thing that matters in the world.

jon loves taking his time, teasing you until you’re begging. his fingers trail down your body, grazing over your most sensitive spots with agonizing slowness, never giving you enough. “patience,” he murmurs, watching the way you squirm under his touch. he LOVES making you desperate for more, only to pull back just when you need him the most.

pussy eating KING, look, this man thrives on making you feel good, he hooks your legs over his broad shoulders, locking you in place with his strong arms around your thighs. he'll start slow, dragging his tongue up your folds with maddening precision, letting you feel every second of it. the way your hips twitch under him? yeah, that’s what he’s here for.

he's def a doggy kinda guy, he’s all about pressing you down onto the bed, the table, the ground, wherever he wants you. he loves your ass, his hands trail all over it, kneading, squeezing, as if he’s claiming it for himself. each thrust is harder, more demanding, "feel how deep I am, don’t you?”

jon is def mesmerized by the sight of you taking him. the first time he catches a glimpse of the way your pussy wraps around him, he’s hooked. he’ll slow down just to watch, one hand grips your hip, pulling you back onto him, while the other slides down to spread you open so he can watch himself disappear into you over and over again. his head falls back for a second, a low groan escaping his lips, “look at that."

there’s something about eye contact that drives him crazy. as he fucks you harder, his eyes stay glued to yours, barely able to look away. you’re driving him mad with just a glance. the more you look at him, the more lost he gets, and the harder he fucks you, he feels the need to keep you there, to keep you connected to him. each time he feels you tightening around him, he can’t help but let out a low, “look at me.”

jon’s a responsive talker, he feeds off your reactions, his words becoming bolder every time you moan or whimper his name. if you beg for more, his restraint crumbles completely. “that’s it,” he growls, his hips snapping into you harder. "tell me how much you need me.”

jon's breeding kink is like, the kind of thing he never talks about, but you can feel it in the way he moves with you, his grip on you tightens, his breathing sharpens, and the pace of his thrusts goes from slow to driven, like he’s trying to bury himself deeper and deeper until there’s nothing left between you but him. and that’s when the words slip out. "want to fill you up, see you full of me." the words barely a growl, his hips slamming into you harder.

[amethystina]

I just wanted to say thank you

For the past couple of days, I've been at a huge book fair as a part of my job and when I wasn't manning our booth, I could go on the various seminars and lectures that were being held. And, during one of them, an author was recounting how moved she'd been when one of her readers had reached out to let her know just how much her book had meant to that reader.

And, as I was watching this author struggling to hold back tears, it struck me just how often I've felt the same. That, more than once, someone has reached out to me to tell me that my writing has helped them through a rough time or maybe even changed their life. Maybe the latter is a bit of a hyperbole but, at the same time, I have no doubt that, sometimes, it wasn't.

And that just blows my mind. Not only that I'm capable of writing something that can touch people's lives to that degree, but that my readers are also willing to reach out to me and tell me when that has happened.

I will forever be grateful for that.

So thank you so, so much to all of you who have done so. But I also want to thank those of you who haven't. If my writing has moved you in any way, whether you've let me know or not, I'm thankful. I'm thankful that you gave me the opportunity to move you and I hope that the experience made your life better. Remembering that I've been able to bring so much joy and meaning to other people's lives has definitely been the highlight of my life these past couple of (admittedly rough) weeks.

So thank you all so, so much.

I love you 💜

[soothedcerberus]

Erik!! I keep seeing your adorable centaur OCs and I always wanted to ask what's the story behind them??

Plushi!! Sorry for the mega-late reply… 🥺I was so happy to get this ask but I didn't know how to explain my silly ocs…I will try now-more under the cut.

Dael Braam (dwarf) is a cooped up farmhand looking to see the world, but being immune-compromised from birth it took a lot of persuasion to convince her parents to let them go. They relent under the condition that she finds a capable and strong person to travel with to keep her safe… Just so happens that a strong and capable centaur knight is visiting in town…

Rembrandt (horsey) was created from a dark fusion spell by an amateur mage, who had intentions to construct a powerful warrior to do his bidding.

However, the spell cast did not result in a powerful and fully-armored warrior…. but instead a frail baby knight centaur, with only its top half made of living armor. The mage, not wanting to raise any kind of child, promptly abandons his creation. He can always try to make another one after all.

Into adulthood, Rembrandt still carries a lot of pent-up abandonment and self-esteem issues. You wouldn't know that from the proud facade he puts on though, lying about being a royal knight yet helping all those he comes across with a smile, but never staying long. When the opportunity of having a long-term travel companion (and perhaps a friend…?) arises from Dael requiring a bodyguard, his craving for companionship and affirmation outweighs his worries about her seeing eldritch elements of himself.

Dirk (beefy dragon thing) is the second (and more "successful") attempt from the same mage to create a powerful monster. Think Rembrandt's "big evil" brother. Except he's quite a bit younger. Dirk emerged fully-developed except for his wings-which remain as little nubs. Despite his brawn and warrior-appearance, Dirk was mostly a glorified errand boy, using his impressive strength to terrorize the nearby towns and their land-collecting resources for the mage.

Dael and Rembrandt meet Dirk after hearing word of a giant dragon-knight ravaging villages (and their livestock yum yum).

(I also like the idea of the mage sending Dirk to capture Rembrandt + Dael when he recognizes is his first attempt is not only alive and strong, but also quite proficient in battle.)

One way or another Dirk ends up roaming with the two. At first, Dirk is over-confident, rude, and stubborn... Overall a huge pain for them to travel with. After being shown kindness for the first time and being subject to more than a few humbling situations, Dirk allows a protective, loyal and softer side of him to emerge.

Lots of found family shenanigans and adventures occur-and yeah! This was rambly but thank you for reading about my guys! 💖

[holland-vosijk-antari]

i was just reading kell's pov in acol where he goes down to see holland in the cells, how he feels hollands eyes scraping against his own, and back in adsom where its described as two stones sparking together. not only does that make me want to go insane, it also makes me wonder if holland feels that too or if its just kell? its not mentioned as far as i can remember in any of hollands pov and not even in their first meeting flashback. the absence of it from holland's pov is a bit of a shame really though it does suggest that its just kell and the effect holland has on him... its also mentioned briefly when lila gets her antari prosthetic eye (in the sense that kell feels glad that he can look her in the eyes without that friction) which makes me wonder, if lila had both eyes would there be that sparking sensation between her and kell? would it not as their black eyes are on the same side? why would that sensation be only due to the presence of the marked eye? it's clear that kell and lila DO have a connection but then again so would most people who went through what they did together (especially as kell is quite dramatic about what he cares about). it would just be a shame to have this connection between antari be a real thing and it not be developed past a couple of brief mentions one of which to enhance a ship. the antari could be endlessly more strange so it's a shame that, even when bonded with the rings, they are essentially just very powerful magic users and not something altogether else...

[meowkusunoki]

ocgrammers reblog and tell me how your characters type

[good-beanswrites]

Hello again, I'm here to request once more. Feel free to take all the time you need btw! I would always be patient for your wonderful works ^^

This time I'd like to request from the Drabble List#2 - 47 with the 020607 Trio (mainly Mahiru though). And yes, this is hugely inspired by that one minigram with Mahiru. And as usual, feel free to change the scenario and/or the characters.

Thank you again, good luck with your future studies and take all the time you need!!

Woo thank you so much!! :'D This one was a ton of fun (and once again led me to get smacked in the face with unlikely character parallels I wasn't aware of before). It's from Kazui's pov but it's still mainly about Mahiru. I ended up going canon-compliant, but I did consider sticking super close to the minigram and do a little normal-au where Mahiru drags them across Japan to make a perfectly homemade cake 😅

Everyone knew Mahiru had a tough time distinguishing genuine from joke, but Kazui hadn’t expected it to come back to bite him. Mahiru wasn’t stupid by any means; sometimes she just forgot that others weren’t as unabashedly honest as herself. When she said something, she meant it. Kazui… not so much.

Which is why, following a conversation about her skills in the kitchen, in response to being pressed about his own household, he thought it would be inconsequential to utter the following words to her.

“Bake me a cake, and we’ll talk.” 

Kazui had laughed his booming laugh, Mahiru had giggled in her sweet little way. Neither realized what had just transpired.

That is, until Yuno dragged Kazui across the prison the following day to make him aware of the monster he had released upon the kitchens. The two hurried over to find a massive operation underway: Mahiru had several layers in the works, she was stirring multiple fruit fillings, decoration choices scattered across the countertop, and anyone who dared venture too close was shooed away with a slap from her wooden spoon. 

It took a few minutes to get the situation all worked out.

“So… you didn’t really want a cake…?” She asked, pausing mid-stir. Her eyes were so big and round.

Yuno came to the rescue. “Of course he does!” She interrupted. “Everyone here would die for a taste of your baking~” 

Kazui nodded. “I just didn’t mean for you to work so hard for my sake. I’m really not worth all this effort…”

Mahiru’s jaw fell, offended on his behalf. “Yes you are!” Her attention was momentarily caught by a timer chiming. Kazui took the bowl from her so she could take a pan from the oven. He picked up where she left off stirring. 

“Either way, why don’t I help you out?” Yuno had grabbed some ingredients from the counter as well. “While we bake, I’ll tell you a little bit about myself. A little,” he repeated. 

And he did. Her questions were easier than he’d expected. While the others knew how to poke and prod about each other’s murders, Mahiru really did just want to know about his home life. While she buzzed around the kitchen switching pans and creating intricate icing patterns, she asked him about his childhood, his hobbies, his job. As soon as she saw his wife was a touchy subject, she let it drop (though with a bit of disappointment, to be sure). He scrambled a bit as Yuno the human lie detector would shoot him a look now and then. Overall, though, his measured answers managed to satisfy both women without giving much of himself away.

When they carried the spectacular cake into the common room to everyone’s amazement, Mahiru prodded him with her elbow.

“We should talk more! I mean, come on. How difficult was that?”

If only she knew the half of it.

���——

“Hey, Mahiru.” Kazui traded weak smiles with Yuno as he joined her by the bed.

“Oh. Hi Kazui,” came her weak voice. She tried her best to smile under the tangle of bandages that surrounded her. Then, silence. 

Aside from a few coughs and small requests, that silence stretched on for hours. He and Yuno usually had a lot to talk about, but neither could muster anything up today.

He thought Mahiru had dozed off, but she surprised him by taking his hand. “Kazui?”

“Yes?”

“Do you really think I’m unforgivable?” 

He blinked. “I can’t really say.” 

The moment the words left his lips, he knew they were the wrong ones. Well, the glare that Yuno was trying to murder him with also helped. “Er, I forgive you, of course. But… I don’t know anything about you, Mahiru. Not really. I can’t say why others would think you’re unforgivable or not.” 

“...I see.”

Yuno looked like she wanted to add something, but couldn’t find the words. Traces of emotions flickered over her face before she could cover them up. Kazui guessed she wanted to defend Mahiru. But maybe she also agreed with him. And that was when the realization struck him.

“I guess, I always thought you were so much better than me and Yuno when it came to talking about yourself. You do it all the time, and very easily. But now that I think about it, I probably know just as much about your situation as you know about mine. For such an honest person, you hide everything just like we do. Or maybe, you hide from everything, like we do.”

More silence.

A teary smile appeared on her face. “You know… you could bake me a cake… and maybe we’ll talk.”

Kazui didn’t laugh, and she didn’t giggle. He nodded, solemnly. “I think that’s a good idea.”

[water-gazer]

I love you so much. For trying. For struggling through it. I'm so proud of you for surviving everything life has been throwing at you.

It's not easy. But you're doing it. I believe in you, and that if you keep going, you're going to get better and better. Handling problems is a learned skill that is honed and sharpened with each passing day.

The next time you think to yourself that you're stuck in a rut, just remember the things you've done in spite of it.

Have you fed yourself? Have you cleaned yourself? Have you done the dishes? Gone for a walk? All points! And if you haven't, that's okay! Take it one task a day.

There is no shame in taking your time to get things done. You just have to *keep going*

Promise me?

[paigemathews]

For the pairing thingy can I get Simon Marks and Paige at the wedding of one of his kids to one of hers? I think that would be funny

Pairing: Simon Marks & Paige Matthews Background Pairings: Henry Mitchell Jr. / Anna Marks ( original character ) ; Paige Matthews / Henry Mitchell

It was at times like this that Paige wished she could drink. Clutching her glass like it was a potion vial and she was going up against the Source again, she was a little surprised it didn't even crack. She'd say grateful, but it would've been a valid excuse to disappear for a minute so. Unfortunately, that left her with no excuse as Simon Marks appeared on her side.

"I always did say that a pairing between the Warren line and the Marks line would be splendid," he bragged. Eying the couple, he admitted, "Perhaps a more... distinguished Warren, but splendid nonetheless."

Paige would like to say it was the knowledge that it was her son's wedding - and that Piper had spent hours decorating (after Paige, Henry, Leo, and Phoebe had been vanished after trying to help while Coop successfully pleaded his care for helping while Piper and Alicia, who played surprisingly nice for the typical haughty witch, argued about decorations for their nephew and younger sister's wedding respectively) - that kept her drink from ending up in Simon's face.

It was actually because she already finished it unfortunately. Gritting her teeth, she said, "I think that Henry is fine as he is."

Distinguished, he said, as if Anna didn't remind Paige of a significantly more rich version of herself as a teenager. Still, Anna, like Alicia, had a soft side to her, even if someone like Paige never saw it.

Across the hall, Paige watched her son smile as Anna smoothed one hand over her younger sister's hair. Lily was gesturing more emphatically than Paige had ever seen Simon's youngest daughter act, but she was adorable in her bridesmaid dress. For how fast everything went, Paige had to admit that Simon had spared no expense on his middle daughter's wedding.

"Peculiar though, isn't it?" Simon mused. "It seems that Anna's courtship with Harvey went by so quick. She didn't tell me about it until they were engaged even!"

"I wonder why," Paige said, just barely masking her tone from something more harsh. "and it's Henry, Simon."

Simon waved off of her comment with one hand, frowning. "It does seem a bit quick, but then again, it does seem to be a Marks' family trait!"

If he brought up his onetime pursuit of her, forget Piper's outrage, she was gonna spar him herself this time.

"After all, I knew that you were the Charmed sister I was destined to wed at first sight!"

Paige knew for a fact that there were swords in Marks Manor; she just had to find them first. Besides, wasn't it a Warren tradition that something happen at everyone of their weddings? Piper's had been hijacked by astral Prue, Phoebe's - well, what hadn't gone wrong with Phoebe's first marriage? Or her second? Paige's had been her and Henry's commitment issues and the Triad. Junior's would just be his mother kicking his father-in-law's ass.

"But even after you rejected my courtship, it took little more than a few moments in my dear Alyssa's company for me to fall in love," Simon reminisced, something softer in his voice.

Against herself, Paige couldn't help but feel her annoyance drain away. Alyssa Marks nee Wells had married Simon not even a year after his proposal to Paige, and despite the quick timeframe, the two had seemed utterly devoted to one another. From what she'd seen and heard from the Marks, Alyssa had been just as devoted, and significantly more hands-on than Simon, with their three daughters until the day she died when the girls were barely teenagers.

Paige missed her parents everyday, but it had been a special ache that neither of them had ever been able to meet her husband. It had been bearable with her sisters by her side, but still.

"I'm sure she'd be happy to see them together," Paige offered hesitantly. She hadn't known Alyssa very well, but she seemed like a kind person and had more Simon significantly more bearable when he was unavoidable.

Simon patted at his eyes with a handkerchief, and chuckled. "Oh, she'd have been ecstatic for our Anna. I'm sure that you two would have gotten along swimmingly over time as well!"

Paige wasn't sure about that; they hadn't seemed like they had much in common, but she wasn't going to disagree. The music started up again, and couples began swarming the floor.

Straightening, Simon turned to her and offered his hand, "Shall we dance, Miss Matthews? It does seem somewhat traditional on an occasion such as this, that the groom's mother and the bride's father should have a dance."*

Paige had never been one for tradition, but took his hand anyway for the sake of family unity and all that. (Also, if she went back to the sword idea, there were two crossed over the fireplace on one side of the dance floor.)

Twirling out on the floor, Paige tried to follow the steps while Simon chattered away in her ear about the planning process and how it had compared to his and Alyssa's wedding so many years ago.

Narrowly avoiding stepping on his foot, Paige tuned back in when Simon commented, "I must say, Anna never did tell me how they met and their courtship went. Did Hugo tell you?"

"Henry," Paige emphasized and then faltered. She actually wasn't totally sure when the two had gone on a date. It had been a bit quick, but could she say anything when her marriage had been similarly fast?

"Yes?" her husband said, with a cheeky smile. Paige could've kissed him as he asked Simon, "Isn't this the part where they switch partners?"

Simon, flustered, said, "Why, I don't think-"

"Father, please?" Alicia requested, already reaching for her father. She tilted her head just so, eyes flicking from Paige to Henry. It was as close to a signal as Paige was going to get, and she fully intended to take it.

It was more Alicia's elegance that allowed her to slip into her father's hold while Paige grabbed Henry's hand, but if it worked. As the music continued, Alicia smoothly led her father into the next stage of the dance until he began leading once again.

Meanwhile, Paige and Henry swayed for a moment, not following any steps besides their own. She pressed her forehead to her husband's shoulder and groaned while he let out a little huff of laughter. "That bad, huh?"

"It's Simon," Paige bemoaned.

"And to think, now we're related to him."

Paige gave her husband a dark look. "Don't remind me."

"Hey, who just saved you?" Henry grinned down at her, shuffling side to side before spinning her.

Paige pressed into his chest after, a smile on her lips, before she remembered Simon's last comment to her. "Did Junior tell you when he and Anna went on their first date?"

Henry opened his mouth and then faltered, eyes glazing over momentarily. He shook his head as if to dislodge something, and then said, "I mean, he must have told us about it at some point?"

Paige couldn't remember, and based on Henry's expression, he couldn't either. She couldn't quite master the feeling of unease.

That was about the time that Lily started shouting and Penny punched her brother in the face.

By the end of the night, the spell had been broken and Paige no longer had to worry about being related to Simon Marks. Sinking down on the stone steps next to Henry, she groaned, kicking off her heels. He lifted one arm around her shoulder on instinct as the two watched the clean-up of the former wedding venue. On one side, Anna and Junior were talking to a Marks' family lawyer about if "we were under a demonic spell" was a valid reason for an annulment.

On the other side, Lily and Patience, the babies of the Marks and Warren lines respectively, were both beet red from all of the praise for figuring out that their sister and cousin respectively was spelled. The two girls, who Paige was pretty sure had the same powers, seemed to be becoming fast friends as Lily grabbed Patience's hand to show her something on her palm.

Down from them, Alicia, somehow still picture perfect despite Paige personally seeing her electrocute a demon and then behead one in heels and a floor-length dress, was mid-conversation with her cousin Jonathan and Chris. She tossed her hair over one shoulder, and turned away from the boys to check on her sister. What she missed, and Paige didn't, was the way that Chris and Jonathan exchanged looks.

Henry, watching the same thing as her, said, "What are the odds of us not actually ending up in-laws to Simon Marks?"

Paige groaned against his shoulder, wondering if she could sic her brother-in-law on her niece and nephew. Surely, Coop could steer them away from a Marks love interest, right?

Patience looked up beneath her lashes shyly at Lily while Jonathan tugged Chris into his side by his belt loops.

At least it wasn't her kids this time.

*I don't actually think this is a thing, but idc.

[aerospectrum]

🪴 hey friends just wanna remind ya that you’re all doing awesome and don’t stress about being timely with replies or messages!!🪸 we’re all out here havin’ a silly goofy time with our muses and there’s no pressure to be fast or perfect!! 🦦in fact you could take 84 years to reply to my things and i’d roll over in my dusty old bones🩻, log back and be so happy to see your posts-🥳🥹😚🍓🩵 please don’t stress or rush yourselves with replies and activity you all are so so so so fantastical and amazing writers and creators and I love you all!!! ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚