#and also learn how to turn water into wine

[amamozarte]

Finally caved and made a dunmeshi oc… meet Iroha :D she’s a hedonist fun loving ogre girl who’s currently traveling the world and bar hopping. She loves alcohol and gambling (enough to get exiled from the Eastern Archipelago about it) and will socialize with just about anyone.

[peachylynnie]

sick

word count: 1.8k

synopsis: in which sylus sneaks into your apartment and finds you sick. yet, you're not resting. why?

contains: sylus x mc!reader (they're not dating but sylus is pining and reader is confused), reader is implied to be in college, slightly obsessive sylus, mentions of violence and sickness, suggestive themes, cussing, and fluff.

a/n: i got sick yesterday. what better way to rest than to write about sylus? do NOT copy or steal my work. sylus WOULD NOT endorse plagiarism :)

you don't want to admit it. you really don't. but you're sick. there's no denying that with how short of breath you are, how nauseous you feel, and the goddamn soreness in the back of your throat that didn't go away with the first sip of water.

"shit…" you mumble as you sluggishly move to empty the dishwasher as your roommate asked. it's bad enough that you were sick, but you were also stressed out of your mind. midterms have been kicking your ass this semester. big assignments have been piling up on your already heavy shoulders. in essence, this was a burnout month, and all that lack of sleep and unparalleled stress had finally caught up to you. in the form of a cold, that is.

"of all the times," you grumble as you struggle to stack the dishes in the cabinet. "why now…" indeed, this was a terrible time to get sick. how were you to complete all your tasks while feeling absolutely miserable? you glance at the microwave clock in desperation. 10:00 PM, it read. although you meant to sigh a breath of relief, you let out a painful cough. maybe you could finish an assignment or two by midnight. that way, you can focus on studying tomorrow, you thought to yourself.

you sniff as you return to the dishwasher to unload the rest of the dishes. as much as you were happy for your roommate leaving for the weekend to finally see her family, you couldn't help but feel resentful. why were you here struggling to do the dishes while she got to have fun? shaking your head at your bitter thoughts, you bend down, trying to grab the utensils from the dishwasher. keyword: trying.

the sudden pair of strong arms that wrapped around you prevented you from doing so. normally, you would've swiftly elbowed the person behind you and turned around to land a hard blow that would have them seeing stars. instead, you exhale shakily. you recognize the mysterious backhugger's scent. the scent of sweet wine and sharp citrus. sylus.

how the hell did he get in? you don’t remember giving him a spare key when you told him your address. you look behind you, angling your head to meet his garnet eyes. "i did not give you my address just so you can sneak in like this," you say, trying your best not to sound like you're dying.

unfortunately, the nasal tone of your voice does not go unnoticed by sylus. instead of offering his usual quips, sylus furrows his brows and unclasps his right arm from your waist. you try not to flinch at the chill of his slender fingers touching your forehead. he frowns. "you're sick."

you immediately avert your gaze. "i'm not sick," you mutter as you try to bend down once more to grab the stupid utensils from the dishwasher. sylus doesn't let go. this time, he spins you around with his left arm, making sure that he can see you properly.

"you're burning up, sweetie." sylus says as flips the hand on your forehead for good measure. "you're sick and you know it."

you roll your eyes, squirming to get out of his grip. you did not want sylus to see you like this. a sick, miserable mess incapable of doing something as simple as emptying the dishwasher. you had an image to uphold after all. being vulnerable with someone like him could mean getting hurt again. last time you were vulnerable with someone… well, let's say you learned your lesson.

weakly, you push at sylus' arm around your waist with your small hands. you try not to think about how minuscule they looked next to sylus' deliciously veiny forearms. great, you're sick, and your mind decides to lust after sylus' arms. you shiver at your thoughts and attempt to push sylus' grip away once more. normally, escaping sylus' hold would be a reasonable task for you. after all, your sparring sessions with him prepared you to get out of sticky situations. but you were sick and exhausted out of your mind. all you could manage was a feeble squirm.

sylus' gaze moves from his hand on your forehead to your eyes. your half-lidded baggy eyes. his frown deepens. you looked extremely fatigued. your face was noticeably pale, and your intake of breath was short. not to mention, sylus could see the slight wince of pain whenever you tried to swallow your saliva. sylus sighs as he removes his hand on your forehead and replaces it with his own. you were neglecting yourself again.

under normal circumstances, you would've shied away from sylus' physical advancements. his hand on the small of your back? an immediate flinch and glare, signaling him to stop. a tap on the crown of your head? a swift jerk of your neck and avoidance of eye contact. instead—again, you blame it on your exhaustion—you tiredly close your eyes, relishing in sylus' cool forehead against your heated one. no resistance to be shown.

you don't see it, but sylus' sharp eyes soften at the sight of you accepting his touch. even with the eye bags and ghastly skin, you looked ethereal. like an angel sent from heaven to save him from his own solitary hell. as much as he wants to savor this moment of you finally giving into his touch, sylus knows what he must do. you're unwell and unrested. you need to be in bed immediately.

"you should be in bed, sweetie." sylus murmurs as he pulls away from your forehead. you try not to sulk at the loss of the soothing chill of his skin. though, not without feeling conflicted because why you would even sulk about him? for god's sake, he was a criminal. he's taken countless lives. not to mention, he choked you upon meeting you, called you a disappointment, and tried to alter you after three straight days of relentless attempts at a forced resonation… just thinking about him drives you nuts and being driven nuts is the last thing you want right now.

"i'm fine, sylus." it was your turn to pull away, trying to put as much distance between you two as his firm grip around your waist would allow. "besides, nothing a little old tea can't fix."

with that, you turn to face the dishwasher and reach for the utensils for the umpteenth time of the night. sylus sighs and pinches his nose bridge with his free hand. as much as he admired your stubbornness, he could not help but resent it at times like these. times when you were in desperate need of a break. before you can grab the utensils, you feel yourself get lifted off the ground effortlessly.

sylus' arm on your waist had moved to your shoulder, and his other arm was hooked under your thighs. he had you in bridal style in less than a second. your eyes widen, realizing the sudden change in positions. "what are you doing?!" you cough painfully. "put me down!"

you do your best to escape sylus' new grip on you by kicking your legs and squirming uncontrollably, but it was hopeless. you were weakened due to your sickness, and sylus was determined to make sure you looked only at him instead of the goddamn dishwasher. one more look at it, and he swears he's gonna break it with his evol.

quickly and confidently, sylus exits the kitchen with you in his arms and arrives at what he guesses is your shared bedroom with your roommate. he tries not to get distracted by the fact that this is his first time in your room. god, the entire space smelled so much like you, he wanted to become one with it and watch you forever and ever. dismissing his intrusive thoughts, sylus gently places you down on your bed and starts to cover you in your blanket.

"wait, sylus," you start, trying to get up. "i have to empty the dishwasher. i have homework, too." sylus tuts as he shakes his head, his messy silver locks following suit. although he doesn't respond, sylus continues to spread out your blanket. you furrow your eyebrows at his strange behavior. "sylus…" you whine. you actually whined. something you never thought you would do, especially in front of sylus. you could feel his intense gaze prick at you like little needles. you avoid his gaze, hoping to hide your flustered state.

adorable. that's what you are. incredibly adorable to the point sylus wants to grab your chin and force you to look at him as he coaxes more and more of your pretty whines out of you.

trying to fight his indecent thoughts, sylus locks eyes with you, a firm yet pleading look on his face. "you need to rest, sweetie," he leans in to adjust your pillow. "you won't get anything done in this state." you try to protest again, but sylus beats you to it. "rest. i'll take care of everything."

well, fuck. how can you say no when sylus, in all of his gorgeous glory, is centimeters from your face, telling you that he will take care of everything and asking you to do the one thing you've been longing to do for a very long time? besides, you felt sleepy ever since sylus took you in his arms. just this once. just this once, you'll allow yourself to be vulnerable with him. so that you can rest, of course. totally not because sylus had a way of comforting you so sweetly and breaking your defensive walls so charmingly.

your labored breathing slows as you cautiously nod. "fine," you yawn. "the utensils go in the very left drawer of the island while the pots and pans go in the stove oven, and…" you can feel sleep beckoning for you as you continue to list instructions. sylus can't help the grin that appears on his face as he watches your cute blinks grow in intervals.

"noted, sweetie." he caresses a stray hair strand out of your face. "i'll make sure everything is back where they belong." like you to him. though, he doesn't say that part out loud. maybe another day. when you are no longer wary of him and are willing to acknowledge his very obvious affection for you. deep in his fantasy, sylus almost misses your cute snores. he chuckles, taking this chance to admire you now that you've fallen asleep.

you truly were an angel. the way your eyebrows furrowed here and there in your sleep. the way your plump lips parted at times. the way your button nose twitched sporadically. oh, sylus loved it all. he could watch you sleep forever. but he had a better task at hand: to take care of you. he assured you that he would take care of everything. and sylus is a man of his words. carefully to not wake you, sylus cups your face with his right hand. closing his eyes, he places a delicate kiss on your forehead.

"rest well, sweetie. i'll see you soon."

[natalievoncatte]

“Today?” Kara said, “really?”

There was a silence in the house, as a pall had fallen over it. Everyone was gathered for the festivities and the turkey in the oven was filling the house with a delightful scent that made Lena’s mouth water. Thanksgiving was supposed to be the one day that Lena could forget about her waistline and just indulge herself. She’d been “helping” Eliza along with Alex and Kelly and Nia while the boys and Kara were out back tossing a football and pretending that she and J’onn didn’t have an outrageous advantage over Brainy and James.

Now Kara was standing in the living room as the news broke in over the football game and announced that a rampaging alien was tearing apart Rio de Janiero.

“Guys,” Kara said solemnly, “I have to go.”

Lena’s heart sank. She knew better than to protest. Kara had already glumly removed her glasses and was about to go grab her suit. Lena reached out and curled a hand around her bicep.

“Please be careful, darling.”

Lena could feel eyes on her back, Eliza and Alex and Nia all watching, silently urging one of them to just finally make a damned move. Lena *lived with her*, for God’s sake, and had since she sold her penthouse. They shared breakfasts and Kara gave her foot rubs and still they were stuck in this maddening limbo without defining what and who they were and it seemed neither dared to ask.

Lena knew what she wanted the answer to be, and how it ached inside her.

Kara glumly trudged down the stairs in full Supergirl regalia, regal and imposing as ever and just as beautiful. Since she’d revealed her identity to the world she’d been freed from the constraints of having to disguise herself, and a few months ago had buzzed the left side of her head, having trimmed the rest to shoulder length, and Lena longed to run her fingers over the fuzz.

She’d also altered her suit again. It no longer had sleeves. Every time Lena saw her, it felt like her soul was going to escape her body.

Kara came over and put her hands on Lena’s arms.

“I’ll be fine,” she said.

Lena gulped down her anxiety.

“I can hear your heart, you know.”

“Just be careful. Please.”

Kara started to turn. Maybe it was the audience, maybe she was just tired of being mired in this thick tension between them. Maybe it was the wine. She grabbed Kara’s arm again and sprang forward to brush her lips against Kara’s cheek, dangerously close to Kara’s mouth.

“For luck.”

Kara’s eyes flew open wide and she gaped at Lena.

“I’ll be b-back,” she said, and swept out the door, cape billowing majestically.

God how Lena hated that cape, sometimes. It blocked the view.

What had been a festive gathering grew quiet. Everyone gathered around the television to see what was going on, save Eliza who politely excused herself to the kitchen, hiding tears that everyone politely ignored.

Lena joined her. She was making the gravy.

“A life of fighting isn’t what I wanted for her,” she said.

“Me either.”

They were alone in the kitchen and Eliza was whisking a roux as she waited for the raw flour smell to cook off.

“Lena, do you have feelings for my daughter?”

Lena swallowed hard, grabbing a knife to chop carrots for glazing so that she’d have something to occupy your hands.

Eliza’s voice was soft, something wistful in her eyes. “You must know how she feels about you.”

Lena had to stop to avoid slicing open her finger, almost feeling the touch of the blade. She cleared her throat.

“I do,” she admitted. “I very much do. If I’m going to be honest with myself, I’ve been in love with her for years.”

Eliza nodded, utterly unsurprised. “Kara is very hesitant about delicate things. When she first started living with us, she used to rip doorknobs off and break things at random while she learned to control her powers. She’s probably told you about Streaky.”

“She has.”

Eliza began pouring stock into the pot, her whisk making soft scraping sounds.

“She’s still that way about everything. Afraid if she pushes too hard, she’ll break something.”

Lena nodded. It was at that moment that Alex stormed into the kitchen. “She’s back.”

Immediately, Lena rushed out into the living room. Kara trudged through the door, and sighed.

“He got a few good hits in but he’s contained.”

Lena could only stare. Her suit was covered in scorch marks and even worse, Kara was bruised, her knuckles especially battered. She smiled weakly.

“I just need a minute to clean up.”

With a deep sigh, Kara turned and headed upstairs.

Lena could feel the eyes on her before she glanced back. Eliza motioned a silent “Go”, and Lena went.

She knocked at the bathroom door.

“Lena?” said Kara.

She always knew. Super-senses.

“It’s me. Can I come in?”

Brief hesitation, then, “yes.”

Lena stepped inside and closed the door. Kara was washing her hands, the injuries already vanishing. Lena didn’t care. She took Kara’s hands anyway, gently washing them under warm water.

She then fumbled at the clasps and unhooked Kara’s cape, and folded it. It was surprisingly heavy, made of a dense material from her long lost home. Setting it aside, she rested her hand against Kara’s deliciously broad back, silently waiting for permission.

“Go ahead,” Kara said in a shaky voice.

Lena freed the tab of the hidden zipper and pulled, baring Kara’s expansive muscular back, and peeled the suit away from her shoulders. Kara had nothing but a sports bra and boxer briefs on beneath. She finished shimmying out of the suit on her own.

Lena has seen Kara in bathing suits, or caught flashes of her changing, but this was different, somehow more intimate. There was a vulnerability, not just in the woman disrobing but in the goddess showing Lena her bruises. Lena gently touched a black and purple mark on Kara’s flank.

“This one hurt, didn’t it.”

“It always hurts. I can feel it, I just pretend I don’t.”

Lena looked up at her and met her gaze.

“Kara, may I kiss you?”

Kara blinked and Lena could actually feel her tremble.

“Yes,” she breathed.

Lena rose on her tiptoes and pressed their lips together very softly, with a deliberate slowness. When Kara kissed her back and pulled her into a delicate embrace, hands bracketed low on her hips, Lena felt like she could fly.

Kara was looking at her in wonder.

“Was that for more luck?”

Lena felt bold. She had seize the moment now, before she lost her nerve and they fell back into tense limbo.

“Kara Danvers, if you want to, you can get very lucky tonight.”

Her eyes were wide and Lena grinned.

“I umm, I…”

Lena trailed a finger down the center of Kara’s muscular chest.

“Dinner is almost ready, darling. Take your shower. Just remember to save room for dessert.”

Kara favored her with a delighted smile as Lena stepped out of the bathroom and padded down the stairs.

When she reached the ground floor, everyone was pointedly focused elsewhere, either on the football game or cooking, and Kelly and Nia were playing cards at the dining room table.

Alexa, though, handed her a beer. Lena took it with a shaking hand.

“Fucking finally,” Alex whispered. “Just don’t get too loud tonight, okay? Go down to the beach if you can’t control yourself.”

Lena’s eyes narrowed.

“I hate you.”

“Love ya too, sis-in-law,” said Alex.

“We’re not married yet.”

Alex tipped back her brew. “Six months, tops.”

Lena took a long pull on her beer and scowled.

(It ended up being four months)

[atheneum-of-you]

Libations

As a Hellenic polytheist, one of our most important duties to our gods would be to give libations. Libations are liquid offerings to our gods, not only in recognition of them and their importance but as an invitation into our lives for them.

When it comes to giving libations, it can be difficult for those of us practicing and worshipping in secret. So in this post I'll go over typical libations and how they're given, and then some methods I believe would be helpful for those that can't give openly! Please keep in mind that the suggested methods (for those practicing in secret) come from someone who is still navigating and learning her own religion. As always, do your own research where needed and do methods that make you most comfortable in your practices.

Typical Libations

Wine (typically red)

Symbolic of the divine ether, and Zeus's influence on the soul. Additionally, dark red wine represents the blood of Dionysus/Zagreus. We drink his blood as reflectance for his sacrifice by the titans and the eating of his flesh. It represents his metamorphosis, and in turn, our own cycle of birth.

Milk

Representative of Hera and Ira, whose breast milk formed the galaxies and cosmos. Milk also represents the earth.

Honey

Honey is golden which is incredibly symbolic of the gods, particularly their ichor (the blood of the gods). Honey is also a powerful preservative representing the immortality of the gods.

Fine oil (typically olive)

Oil historically symbolizes life, prosperity, and the divine spirit.

Milk and honey together are also a considerable libations but is particularly good for death related gods and the honoring of the dead. Milk and honey libations for them should NOT be consumed.

Giving Libations

To give libations, you would first pick up the offering bowl full of whatever you are giving with your right hand, then hold it with both and recite a dedication. The dedication itself is up to you but the example I saw is as follows:

"We dedicate this libation to khrismôdós Apóllôn and aithǽrios Diónysos and to all the happy, deathless Gods!"

Libations can be made to a singular god or multiple at once. Just ensure you have enough for them equally. Dedications can also be to a singular god or you can name the ones you are dedicating to.

Once you've made your dedication, you'll transfer the bowl to your left hand and pour your offering on the ground or into whatever reservoir you have dedicated to it on your altar. This is your libation, and the offering now belongs to them. Once you've made your libations, you may sip from the remaining contents of the bowl as communion. Before doing so, you may recite a prayer. Here is an example:

"We drink the blood of Diónysos! May the Aithír of Zefs intoxicate our souls and transform us!"

Please be aware that you should NOT drink libations to the dead or to death gods.

When sipping from the remainder of your libations, do NOT sip from the part where you poured. You should drink from the opposite end of the bowl.

Libations in Secret

When you're practicing in secret, this method of libations can be incredibly difficult. So with that, here are a few ways that I think could be helpful!

Can't access or drink wine/milk/honey? Substitute them for water or better yet, flavored juices!

Pomegranate juice can make a good libation for Underworld gods and goddesses, apple juice would be good for Zeus, etc. Research your deity's associations and try working with them. Water is also life-giving and integral to life.

Can't pour your libations outside or in a dedicated offering bowl? Use cups!

Pour your libations directly from the bottle to a cup and sit it on a shelf or desk or wherever you've dedicated to your god. You can recite your prayers and dedications in your head as well.

Worried about wasting drinks? Offer a smaller amount!

Typically what you give should be more than you keep, but your gods understand your struggles and would be understanding of your intentions. Offer a small amount of your drink, honey, etc and inform them of your reasonings and intentions. Your gods love you, they'll be happy with your efforts regardless.

Can't do your libations during the day? Do them at night!

Give your libations while everyone is asleep. You can even hide it under your bed or behind something to keep it for the time you want. (Please be careful of doing this with honey and be mindful of possible insects, pets, pests, spills, etc)

A minor? Do your libations at school!

You can do your libations while at school by making them during a PE class, during lunch, or any period of time where you can take a moment to do so! (I'm not condoning using your bathroom breaks to sneak off and do them, I'm just saying you definitely could do that)

Regardless of how you do your libations and with what, your practice is your own as is your relationship with your god(s). Do what feels right for you ♡

[jeyunhos]

Midnight feast | jyh [ Interactive story! ]

pairing: vampire!yunho x human!fem!reader cw: blood, drinking blood, vampirism, oral sex (female receiving), oral sex (male receiving), public sex, alcohol consumption, if I miss any tags let me know Summary: After your friend stands you up at a bar, a handsome, mysterious stranger tries to light up your day. A/N: Finally!! my second interactive story, this time with yunho. This story is a choose-your-own-path story, each link at the end will take you through different routes with different plots and endings. I always have a lot of fun making these so I hope you will too. This story is 18+, minors do not interact.

Keeping up with his desires was not always easy, as a creature of the night in modern days some things had gotten just plain complicated. Furthermore, it didn’t help that he was picky about his tastes and likes, but when he landed his eyes on a target he did not rest until he had it. 

He had to have you. 

He realized it when he saw you across the bar, all on your own, toying with a glass of an untouched beverage. You looked rather… disappointed, if he had to put a word to it; vulnerable women weren’t exactly his type, but something about you was dragging him in, it was making him thirsty. 

“A glass of wine, please, cabernet.” he had approached your side on the bar and turned to the bartender “And whatever the lady wants to replace that watered-down drink of hers.” 

It took you a second to realize that he was talking about you since you were too absentmindedly toying with the slim red straw that your glass had as decoration. 

“Oh, no, that’s-” you tried to refuse politely, not really wanting to offend the handsome stranger, but also not in the mood for some random guy to be hitting on you. 

“Please, I insist” he raised a hand in your direction, accompanied by a charming, captivating smile that made you feel warm within yourself. “I know what it’s like to be stood up” he added “Asshole boyfriend?” his eyes searched for yours with a tilt of his head. 

At that moment you took a proper look at him. He had deep black hair that somehow shined blueish whenever the dim bar lights angled enough to hit his face. He was wearing frameless glasses and a turtleneck sweater adorned by chain-like necklaces that were barely covered by his leather jacket. Fair skin that contrasted perfectly with his deep black eyes. Those eyes, certainly profound enough to drown you in them if you weren’t careful, you could tell. 

As you were weighing your chances to come out of this exchange unharmed, which you deemed very slim, the bartender came back with his order. Then you noticed the nails when he took a hold of the glass, they were long for a man and they were almond-shaped as well, covered in shiny, transparent rocks. 

Despite his attention leaving you briefly to properly hold his drink, his eyes were deeply focused on yours, awaiting an answer to his question that was purposely formulated to test his own chances with you, and it wasn’t like you were particularly interested…

But there was just something about those eyes. 

“More like an ungrateful friend” you finally spoke, as if something was compelling you to do so. 

“I know the type.” he tried to sympathize in hopes you wouldn’t push him away “Care for some company?” 

Granted, you did not really want to get hit on tonight, least of all to go home and hook up with a stranger, but you figured why turn some free drinks and a nice conversation down? You decided to amuse him for a while. He was alluring, not bad on the eye at all, why not? 

After the first few minutes of awkward conversation and introductions, during which you learned his name was Jeong Yunho and he insisted on you calling him only ‘Yunho’, the conversation began to flow easily. It was almost as if he could see into you, that something was forcing you to keep talking about yourself no matter how stupid, embarrassing, or utterly unnecessary the information was. To every single bit of said information, though, he had an answer ready, some were of sympathy and understanding, and some similar stories of his own. You could feel a connection, a real connection that didn’t happen often. 

Yunho felt about the same way, the one difference was that you could feel it in your chest, and him? In the endless throbbing between his legs and the urge to make a mess out of that beautiful neck of yours. 

“...and I swear, the cat just climbed all the way up my leg and, before I knew it, it was on my head!” as he finished his sentence, he began to laugh at the reminiscing of his own story. 

You couldn’t help but laugh along; it’s not that the story was particularly funny, but he was enjoying himself so much it was infectious. 

“Must have been really talented, climbing a man as tall as you” you observed, your hand landing teasingly on his thigh “Gotta say, I’m kinda jealous” 

Maybe it was the booze of the few drinks you had had, maybe it was the fact that he smelled like morning dew, or maybe he was just ridiculously hot and you had started to get horny a while ago, but all this banter and laughing had gotten to you, and you were curious about what could happen next, or if he had the same interest in taking you home, hell, taking you at all. 

Yunho, smart and experienced as he was, picked up on the signal real quick, his eyes darkened at the prospect of having you, and if he was honest with himself, he’d rather that be sooner than later. 

“Well, we can’t have such a beautiful lady’s heart filled with such a nefarious feeling” he said as he took your hand and gently brought it up to his lips to press a kiss to the back of it. “Shall we move this somewhere else?” 

Follow him to the alley Follow him back to his home

[ladyofrosefire]

fuck it, bg3 companions shower routine

Shadowheart: Shar hates self-care, but a Shadowheart does take pride in her hair, and a Shadowheart who has learned to be kind to herself can indulge. Long, complicated hair routine, very specific water temperature, and a tendency toward long-ass depression showers. LOVES a bubble bath and will make a whole event of it with flower petals and candles just for her. Will bring a book with a little book tray and a glass of wine.

Astarion: Similarly complicated hair routine. Gotta hydrate the curls, and being dead does not do nice things to your hair. Less prone to standing there staring at nothing while the horrors set in, but prone to scrubbing too hard. Similarly fond of a bubble bath, although without the book or flowers, although he will fuck with an essential oil heater and likes to make his own blends.

Lae'zel: Queen of the 4 minute shower. She has been accused of not even waiting for the water to heat up, but she likes it blistering. Does not actually use 3-in-1, thank you. Having fairly short hair helps. She finds the other companions baffling. Would get bored in a bubble bath unless she had company (rubber duck counts).

Wyll: Sings. If someone called him on it, he would be embarrassed, the first time, for about a minute. Neither wildly efficient nor inclined to standing there for ages and ages and prefers to shower in the morning. Washing his hair is a chance to relax and take care of himself, although before he has his family back, it can be a bit melancholy. He has fallen asleep in the bath before. I feel like he'd love a bath bomb and he'd love the full romantic evening with candles and flowers and music.

Karlach: Please, please someone boil her. Once she gets her engine fixed all the way, she tries a cold shower just to remember what it feels like and keeps up a running commentary about how much it sucks while also not turning up the temperature. Absolutely loves sharing a shower with someone and will also sing. Should not attempt her little jig on wet tiles. May try anyway. Someone should introduce her to proper hair/skin care because if anyone is using 3-in-1, I'm sorry, it's Karlach. Genuinely cannot sit still for a bubble bath unless she has company to cuddle.

Gale: Voted Faerun's Most Likely to Relitigate Arguments in the Shower, Even if He Won Originally. Loves to pamper himself, canonically, loves a spa day, also canonically. You simply are not getting the bathroom back for a good hour, although not all that time involves running water. Plays around with different products and researches the living hell out of everything. Loves a long soak. The only person with a feline in their house to ever bathe in peace. Constantly torn between wanting a book with him when he has a bath and not wanting to get the pages steamy and damp, much less actually wet.

Minthara: Her ideal hair wash involves someone else doing it for her while also having the utmost certainty that the person will not attempt to murder her. If her partner washes her hair for her, she turns into a puddle. She has an incredibly specific lineup of products. If she shares, understand that she has bestowed upon you a great gift. More about bath salts than bubbles and could be persuaded to a sufficiently elegant bath bomb (it would not be a difficult check).

Halsin: Low-flow showerhead user. Hell, he might be the kind of person to turn the water off entirely when not soaking/rinsing out his hair... However, he is not immune to the "shower together to save water" line even though he KNOWS it doesn't work that way. He needs low-scent soaps/etc considering his heightened sense of smell. And listen, this man does not fit in a bathtub unless he goes somewhere special or finds a particularly large one. He made everyone floaty ducks, properly sealed against water damage, and he has one for himself that holds his soap.

Jaheira: Understands that having a chair in the shower is just being kind to yourself and proceeds accordingly. Will revisit arguments she had that day, but despite that has a quick and fairly simple routine. She needs the water pressure to pound the everloving hell out of her back. Loofa on a stick user. Like Wyll, she has fallen asleep in a bathtub, in part thanks to having and using a bath cushion. Truly, the expert on bath-based comfort.

Minsc: Also sings in the shower. LOUDLY. Boo is allowed to sit a shelf out of the way. The best way to get him to use lotion is to give him something that smells yummy. He has similar problems to Halsin regarding fitting in bathtubs. He tries anyway. He has been banned from at least one hotspring for doing a cannonball.

[bomertheshark]

Riding

A Nanami Kento x top male reader

Short

You can’t quite remember how you got to this point. The very man who you had been chasing for ages now was now bouncing up and down your cock in pure bliss… what the hell happened?

You had an infatuation with a man named Kento Nanami, he had been working at your firm for some time now. You met him when he was a new guy since you were the assistant of the guy who had to show him the ropes. You thought he was a nice enough person, not too talkative but still not timid. The only real conversation you had was at a company dinner. You had been sitting across from each other and decided to strike up a conversation with him. Through out the entire night you both talked about this and that as he drank, you never drank much so you decided that tonight was not the night to try and hold your own. You learned a lot about him that night since his lips had gotten loose from the alcohol, and you suppose that’s when it all started. You spent months after that trying to get him to date you. You weren’t shy about it either, you came out and just confessed of course he thought you were joking but that didn’t matter to you, you never stopped flirting with him. You would talk to him everyday going out of your way to have lunch with him and other things to try and court him.

“Listen I think you should stay for dinner, I know it’s a cliche you know, stay for dinner cause it’s raining and I’ll confess my love to you that whole thing. But I just think it’ll be safer and we spent a long time on this project and I think we could use a break, plus you already know I like you and I’m one hell of a cook. And it’s not like this overtime or anything. ” You said moving around your kitchen to start preparing for the meal. “I suppose it’s fine, just don’t try to get me to stay any later than that.” He said as a response while going to sit down at the island.

After making the dish and serving it you sat across from him and ate in silence. “Is there anything you’d like to drink while we eat? I have wine, beer, champagne, water and some soft drinks.” You said after swallowing a bite of your food. “Some wine would be nice, preferably red.” He said in response “yeah I have some Saldo… does that work?” “That’s perfectly acceptable.” You poured the both of you some Saldo albeit you have yourself less just so that you could keep a clear mind in your own home.

Time had passed and you had finished one bottle of the Zinfandel. You cleared the plates and put them in the dishwasher. You were thankful you hadn’t had that much to drink as it seemed that your counterpart was having a hard time being clear headed. He had gotten up to help with the dishes but had ended up leaning on you and rubbing his face into your neck. To say this was embarrassing was an understatement, not only was your coworker probably drunk but he also happened to be the very man you had been attracted to for months.

“Okay Nanami I’m sure you don’t have a very clear mind right now so why don’t you sleep it off on my couch, I’ll make sure you’re on your way after you’ve sobered up.” You say to him trying to pull his arms off of you and start walking to the couch. He obviously didn’t like this idea as he whined a cling onto you tighter. Once you managed to get him on the couch you were turning to walk away and get the blanket that had fallen off in the process when he had grabbed you and you fell on top of him, he obviously enjoyed the position as he keened and started to wrap his arms around your head. This was a very compromising position for you, you could feel yourself start to get hard and flush. “Look Nanami we are coworkers and while yes I do really like you I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to do this when you are intoxicated.” You managed to get out of his grip as he whined and stood up. You have him the blanket and as soon as he got situated he fell asleep.

You finished the dishes and decided to go ahead and go to bed since Kento was already asleep for the night. You fell asleep pretty quick since you were exhausted from the work and trying to deal with Nanami.

You were having the strangest dream when you woke up to a weird feeling. It felt like someone was in your room, you looked at the clock to see it was 4 o’clock in the morning. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes you looked around to see Nanami standing near your bed, in confusion and a bit of fear you asked “what are you doing in here Nanami? Did you want to go home now? I can get up and take you if you really want to leave.” He didn’t respond just getting closer to the bed. “Nanami..? Nanami you’re freaking me out a little I can’t see you that well.” At this point he was now at the foot of your bed, you couldn’t see his face but you knew it was him, why wasn’t he wearing any pants…? “Kento are you alright?” He got on your bed, starting to crawl towards you as you backed up. “Are you still drunk Kento? You’re freaking me out man talk to me.” He was now straddling you peering down at you, you had put your hands on his thighs to stabilize him, when he started to grind on you you knew something was weird.

All of that led to now. Where the man who you had been chasing for months was now on top of you riding you like his life depended on it. With every rock of his body he gasped at how deep you reached. This was your third round and it was already day break. The both of you were sweating and panting, the pleasure that coursed through your veins spurred you on and you continued letting him ride you as he used your chest to stabilize himself. The view was impeccable. You couldn’t believe that you were experiencing this with the very man who you wanted to spend all of your time with. All of it was perfect just like him.

You were really hoping that this meant he would finally take you seriously and let you indulge yourself in loving him with every fiber of your being. But for now you focus on the time you have with him and not the fact that today is a work day.

I really hope you guys like this 😭

I’m sorry it took so long to post!

P.S Saldo is my favorite red wine 🫶

[lovely-p-issues]

Calypso put the new flowers in the vase.

It didn't matter how much water she poured in or how often she changed the plants - the flowers always wilted after a few hours and nothing of her magic could prevent that. She didn't understand that. Just like she didn't understand a lot of things that had happened since her Beloved had shown up on her island.

The late dinner was slowly cooling, the smell wafted throughout the house and the last wisps of steam were disappearing somewhere in the air. She was used to waiting for him. To waiting for him to turn up in her bed at night, for him to join her in the warm springs of the island and rest in her embrace, for him to give up those childish dreams of Ithaca and burn all those tools he was trying to hide from her.

She had waited so long. She could have waited a little longer.

‘Oh darling, this looks just amazing.’

It wasn't Odysseus' voice. Odysseus never sounded so cheerful.

She turned and clenched her fist, and the candles in the room flickered.

At the head of the table, where she usually seated Odysseus, sat a strange man.

No, not a man.

A god, smiling at her with his teeth bared. He sprawled comfortably in a chair, holding a chalice in his hand, Odysseus' chalice, into which she had not yet had time to pour wine. However, the intruder seemed not to mind as he took a sip from it without taking his eyes off her. In his other hand he held a strange staff, entwined with two snakes. He rotated it in his hand, as if slightly bored.

‘This place is not for you, Hermes,’ Calypso growled, and the candles went out completely.

She noticed with anger that the Lilies of the Valley, which only an hour ago had tempted her with their fragrance in the meadow, had begun to bow to the ground. The petals were covered in spots.

The Messenger of the Gods only laughed heartily. Something about that joy made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. He waved the Caduceus, and the candles lit up again, but this time with a rosy glow. She gritted her teeth.

‘So you remember me? I shouldn't be surprised, I can make an impression, after all I am-’

‘Uninvited. And unwelcome.’

‘Funny, I don't recall you being bothered by not being invited when the waves tossed a certain wanderer onto the shore.’

She turned.

‘I enjoy his company.’

She had work to do. She placed the pot over the hearth.

‘I don't doubt it, darling. Tell me, though, does he enjoy yours?’

The wind wailed and hit the shutters. Out of the corner of her eye, Calypso noticed that the petals of the buttercups had fallen on the table. She had to restrain herself from shouting.

‘He will learn to enjoy it. I have time, all the time in the world. His wife cannot say the same. Even his son will eventually turn to dust. And he will finally be able to move on.’

'Ah, so you put your trust in the workings of Chronos, the god of time. A touching method, mortals claim, but even they can tell the difference between it and a vain hope. How long has it been, darling? Seven years, if I count correctly?'

She slammed her hands on the table, glancing at him over her shoulder.

‘Oh, please, what is seven years?’

‘For us?’ waved the Caduceus between them. ‘Nothing. For them?’ he waved his hand towards the window. ‘It's a bit more complicated.’

‘Why do you care? Why couldn't you fly over my island without looking back, like you always do?’

‘For many reasons. If only for the fact that, as you know, I am the god of travellers. What kind of a patron would I be if I didn't make sure that such a determined man didn't make it home?’

‘He is home.’

Although Hermes took a compassionate tone, his face remained sullen.

‘A lie doesn't suit your eyes, darling.’

She clenched her fists and furrowed her forehead.

‘I won't let you-’

Hermes was no longer sitting behind the table. He was hovering over her, and his eyes, though hidden by the shadow of his helmet, glittered with rage.

‘You will let me speak, for as the Messenger of the Gods, I speak not only with my voice, but also with the voice of Zeus, the King on Olympus. You will let Odysseus go. You will end his torment. You will let him sail home. You will give him everything he needs for the journey. And then you will come back here and learn to live without him.’

Calypso didn't think she could still be afraid of anything after all these years. She took a step closer and raised her head so that their noses nearly touched.

‘He's going to die.’

Hermes tilted his head.

‘Let me worry about that, darling.’

His voice was cheerful again.

He moved away from her and began to play with the dried flowers.

She stood in silence, afraid that if she opened her mouth she would start to cry. Finally, she quieted the storm in her chest.

‘What if I convince him?’ she looked at the god, a challenge burning in her eyes. ‘What if he decides to stay?’

‘Then I will be more than impressed, darling, even as a god whose one of his myriad talents is deft eloquence.’

Hermes moved closer to her. In his hands he held a garland braided with petunias, monkshoods and yellow carnations. Fatal was a crown for the queen of Ogygia.

She had not brought those flowers. She took one last look past the set table and the cold food. The only flowers she had brought herself that had not fallen from their strength were yellow roses, the scent of which now made her choke.

Hermes adorned her head with a garland in the gentlest of motions.

‘Go on, Calypso. I shall watch.’

The wings rustled and Calypso was alone. Again.

___

I hope you enjoyed a little dangerous Hermes c:

[wholoveseggs]

Hey, I love the stories you are writing for us! Thank you so much! If there's room for another one, here's an idea: human reader is pregnant with Elijah's child but is afraid he might not believe her as it is impossible for a vampire to procreate. His reaction, in fact, causes her to leave New Orleans, and a few years later, she returns, and Elijah learns he is a dad. Fluffy, possibly smutty. ")

Devotion

he's so daddy, he's so father

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

When you find out you are pregnant you are afraid of how Elijah will react. His anxieties around fatherhood get the best of him and he gives in to his darker impulses.

♡♡ Thanks for the request(s) @originals23 @classymesstuff009 & anon ♡♡

I combined the ideas and changed some elements, but I hope I captured the spirit of the requests -xoxo

7.7k words - Warnings: this is less of a story with a plot and more of a series of events over the course of readers pregnancy, lots of angst, childbirth, so so so corny, so much fluff, lots of belly touches, Elijah being violently over protective, more fluff, lots of affection, smut at the end, unprotected sex (duh)

"No no no no no," you mumbled, staring down at the fourth positive pregnancy test you'd taken that day. This couldn't be happening, it wasn't possible. But as you glanced over the little box and read the word "pregnant" again and again, it began to sink in. You were having a baby, Elijah Mikaelson's baby, a baby whose existence was impossible.

A sob you had been suppressing broke free, and you collapsed on the edge of the tub. You had no idea what you were going to do, your relationship with Elijah was complicated and had no label, and the thought of raising a baby by yourself was daunting.

"I'll figure it out," you told yourself as you pulled yourself up and splashed some cold water on your face.

You needed to tell Elijah, which was an entirely different kind of terrifying. He had always been very clear that vampires were unable to procreate, so he likely would not believe you. The thought made your stomach turn, and you rushed to the toilet once more to empty the meager contents.

It took you a couple weeks before you were able to build up the courage to tell Elijah. You had tried to find the words to break the news, but every time you thought you had it figured out, you panicked and decided against it.

But you were starting to show, and you knew it wouldn't be long until your clothes no longer concealed your growing belly. So, the day after your second ultrasound you invited Elijah over for dinner.

He was worried about you, it had been over a month since he'd seen you last and over two months since the last time you were intimate together. He missed you, and wondered if you'd met someone else. But that was the only explanation he could think of.

When he arrived at your place, he noticed something different right away. You looked exhausted, but you had a small glow to you, he also noticed that you gained some weight and he enjoyed how it filled out your figure.

You greeted him at the door, and he pressed a kiss to your cheek before handing you a bottle of wine. "Thank you," you smiled softly, leading him inside and taking the wine to the kitchen.

"It's been awhile," Elijah began, not knowing where to start, "are you doing alright?"

"Not exactly," you admitted, pouring two glasses of water and taking a seat on the couch next to him. Your hands began to shake, fear gripping you once more.

Elijah reached over and took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "What is wrong?" He asked, searching your eyes.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes for a moment before speaking. "I'm pregnant."

You could see the confusion, the anger, the disappointment and a dozen other emotions flash through his eyes. You couldn't stand the way he was looking at you, so you pulled your hand from his and stood, pacing around the room.

Elijah didn't know what to think, clearly you were seeing someone else. It hurt him, but neither of you ever had the talk about being exclusive. The thought of you with another man disappointed him immensely, it made him realize how much he wanted you all to himself. But it was too late for that now.

"Elijah, say something," you begged, tears streaming down your face. You were desperate for him to just say anything.

"Who is the father?" He questioned, his voice low.

You expected this question and had thought about your response for a while. Of course he wouldn't think it was his, it was impossible. But you had been with no one else, and you were tired of being a secret, you wanted to be a family, and if he rejected the idea, then that was on him.

"You," you answered, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

"That's not possible," he shook his head. "I can't procreate."

"Klaus can, why not you?" You snapped. You weren't expecting him to believe you, but the reality of it hurt more than you expected.

"Klaus is unique, I am not," he stated plainly. You were quite distressed and although he didn't believe himself to be the father he still had sympathy for your situation.

“Is the father not... A good man?" He asked.

You began to sob, the hormones were really working against you, and you didn't know what to do. He had no idea how to react, and the longer you stayed silent, the more worried he became.

"I'm sorry," he spoke, his voice low, as he moved towards you.

"Don't," you shook your head, pulling away from his touch. "If you don't believe me, that's fine. I'm not going to beg you. I can raise this baby on my own."

"I can't be the father, y/n," Elijah said, trying to reach for you once more.

"Just leave, please," you pleaded. He didn't believe you, he thought you were seeing someone else, and you couldn't stand to be in the same room with him any longer. "Get out Elijah!" You shouted.

Frustration rose within him, he didn't enjoy being blamed for something he didn't do.

“Fine," he muttered, moving towards the door.

You felt overwhelmed with despair and wanted nothing more to do with him, so you watched him walk out the door without saying a word.

It had been a few weeks since you last saw Elijah and your mental health was deteriorating at an alarming rate. You had very little support financially or emotionally and it was taking a toll on you.

You hadn't slept or eaten well and when you did, you often felt sick afterwards. You had known about postpartum depression, but apparently there was something called prenatal depression as well. You had been reading online about the symptoms, and it was almost as though you were looking in a mirror.

You needed help, but couldn't will yourself to ask for it. You had no family, and no friends in the city. The only person you knew in Louisiana was Elijah, and you didn't want anything to do with him.

His rejection of you and the baby hurt more than anything you'd ever experienced before. You couldn't even bring yourself to look at a picture of the ultrasound. You felt alone and abandoned.

You would walk the streets at night, a foolish thing to do considering the threats in New Orleans. But it was the only thing that seemed to calm your mind, and the fresh air helped ease the nausea.

It was a clear, warm night and the streets were quiet. The soft glow of the street lights created a calming atmosphere, and the cool breeze blew the hair away from your face. You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, enjoying the moment of peace.

Then you started to cry, your hormones making you feel like you were losing your mind. You hated it, you would start to cry for no reason and then cry some more because you were frustrated over crying for no reason. It was an endless cycle.

You felt so lost, you thought you could do this all on your own, but you hadn't even had the baby yet and you were falling apart. Even though Elijah didn't believe the child to be his, it was still a Mikaelson and that came with many consequences, some you couldn't possibly foresee. You knew of Hope and how she barely survived her birth, what if the same thing happened to you and your child? You didn't have Elijah to protect you.

You knew you needed to swallow your pride and convince Elijah, he was the only one who could protect both of you.

Your feet took you to the compound before you could talk yourself out of it, and you stood at the gates, hesitating for a moment before making your way inside. You could feel the baby kick and move, it strengthened your resolve.

Elijah was in his study when he heard you approaching, and he wondered what you wanted. He decided to leave you alone after you kicked him out. It was the right thing to do, he reminded himself, he was not the father.

When he saw you standing in the doorway, he could tell you were upset, but he had no desire to talk to you, not after the last time.

"Elijah, please listen to me," you said softly, the words sticking in your throat. "The baby is yours, I have never slept with anyone but you. There is no one else, only you."

He sighed, he wished he could believe you, but he knew it was not possible. He wondered how awful the true father had to be if you were here lying to him once again.

"I know we were never exclusive, but I wish you would be honest with me about whoever the father is," he said, his voice low.

You stared at him for a moment before a sob escaped your lips. "Elijah, there is no one else, there has never been anyone else."

"Why do you insist upon lying?" He asked, turning away from you, unable to stand the pain in your eyes.

Sudden rage boiled over inside of you and you lashed out at the nearby table, knocking the items onto the floor. "I am not fucking lying!" You shouted.

Your outburst was quite unexpected, and he turned back to look at you, his eyes narrowing. Before he could say anything Freya walked in, alerted by the yelling and broken glass.

"What's going on?" She asked, stepping in between the two of you.

The tears returned, always at the most inconvenient times, and you just sobbed into your hands and knelt to the floor. Pure frustration and exhaustion took over and you were completely overwhelmed.

Freya looked at Elijah, confused and annoyed. He wasn't the type to yell, and certainly not at a pregnant woman. She wondered what was going on and why you were so upset.

Elijah shook his head, and began cleaning up the mess you'd made. He couldn't bear to look at you, the pain in your eyes was too much for him.

Freya walked over and knelt next to you, rubbing your back. "Tell me what's wrong sweetheart," she said softly.

The moment Freya touched you she felt it, her own blood, running through your veins.

"It's okay," Freya assured you. "Can I touch your belly?"

You nodded again, and she gently placed her hand over the swell, and instantly felt the magic pulsating from your womb. Freya could always sense her own blood, so long she searched for it. And here it was, right in front of her.

She was overjoyed, she had a niece or nephew, a new tiny Mikaelson for her to dote on. She was also so angry at her foolish brother she could have strangled him.

"Elijah," she said sternly, mustering her big sister voice to scold her little brother. "It's yours," she said firmly, standing and facing him.

He froze, a mixture of emotions passing through him. First he felt disbelief, then excitement, and finally dread. If this was his child, then the threats they faced everyday were even more dangerous.

"Are you certain?" He asked, not wanting to believe, fear gripping his heart.

Freya nodded, and moved to stand next to you, helping you to your feet. You were exhausted, physically and emotionally.

"Why didn't you bring her to me sooner?" She asked him, helping you over to the sofa and fetching you a glass of water. "Look at her Elijah, how could you leave her like this?"

He knew his sister was right, and he felt ashamed. He had been a fool, and caused you unnecessary suffering. He would not be making that mistake again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, coming to kneel in front of you. "Forgive me, please."

"I tried to tell you," you said softly, sniffling quietly.

"Leave us Freya, thank you," he said, not taking his eyes off you.

Freya was reluctant, but agreed, closing the door behind her. Elijah sat next to you, his posture stiff, and his face a stony expression. You were afraid, unsure what he would do or say.

He was always prone to self-loathing, but this was a new level, and he didn't know what to do. He felt incredibly guilty and responsible for the pain and stress he caused you. You did not look well, and he knew he needed to do everything he could to fix this.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, you looked dazed and swayed a bit, he pulled you close, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Don't apologize," you whispered, lifting your head and looking at him, "just promise you will help me, that's all I ask,"

Elijah was taken aback by the request. Of course he was going to help, why wouldn't he? But the fact that you needed to ask, made him feel terrible, made him feel like Klaus.

"Of course," he assured you, brushing a stray tear from your cheek.

A few tears escaped your eyes. You were tired and overwhelmed and his words and gentle touches were enough to completely break you. You began to cry, burying your face in his chest as you sobbed. A tidal wave of conflicting emotions washing over you, frustration, anger, guilt and a tiny hint of relief.

Elijah felt terrible, and he hated himself for causing this. You were pregnant, alone, and suffering. He would never forgive himself.

"You will stay here and you don't have to worry about a thing," he soothed, gently rubbing your back, "I will take care of everything, I promise,"

He meant it, you and the baby were his responsibility now, and he would protect you both with his life.

It had been a month since you moved into the compound and Elijah was true to his word and took care of everything.

He compelled doctors to check on you and Freya was also doing a spell daily to ensure the baby was healthy and developing well.

But he didn't have to compel people for the things that mattered. He was the one cooking your meals, helping with the nursery, and ensuring you were getting rest.

One night after dinner, you were sitting on the sofa together, talking and laughing.

You were starting to feel better, but you still struggled with your emotions, and Elijah did his best to make sure you were always happy and stress free.

You began to feel a little anxious, and he immediately sensed it, pulling you close to cuddle with him. Neither of you had discussed your growing feelings and neither of you knew where you stood with each other.

He placed a warm hand on your growing bump, and it instantly soothed the baby, and in turn, helped calm your nerves. You leaned closer into him and he wrapped his other arm around your shoulder.

He enjoyed having you so close, and he could smell the sweet scent of your shampoo as you rested your head against his shoulder. He still felt such guilt for the pain and stress he had caused you.

"Is this okay?" He asked softly, his hand slowly moving over the swell.

You smiled, enjoying the gentle caress. "Mmhmm," you hummed, snuggling deeper into his side.

He was being very sweet, and you were beginning to suspect that he had more than just feelings of obligation for the baby.

Elijah was enjoying the feeling of your body pressed against his, and he hoped that he could continue to make amends for the way he behaved.

"Have you thought of any names?" He asked, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"Hmmm," you thought, enjoying the warmth of his hand and the rumble of his chest. "I'm thinking… Elijah jr," you teased, giggling.

He chuckled and gave you a light squeeze. "Absolutely not," he smirked, kissing the top of your head.

It was a pleasant moment and the two of you laughed and talked about the upcoming birth and baby names.

Eventually, you fell asleep, and Elijah picked you up and carried you to bed. He gently tucked you in and placed a kiss on your forehead.

Now that you were asleep, he could let his own anxieties surface. The trauma around Hope's birth still haunted him and he would do anything to prevent that from happening to you.

So he did the same thing he had done every night since you moved in. He left the compound to go hunting.

The first night you arrived, he went out for a drink, planning on just having one to calm his nerves. But then he heard a group of young vampires discussing the strung out looking pregnant woman walking the streets at night. And when they wondered what a pregnant woman's blood would taste like... Well they didn't stand a chance after that.

It made him feel better, seeing their body parts scattered around him, to smell their blood and have their dead hearts in his hands.

And so on it went, he would stalk the streets of the French Quarter, waiting for anyone to dare mention you or the baby. It didn't matter who, why or even where, they would never get a chance to speak again.

Every night he would return, his hunger sated, and he would climb into bed with you. You were still sound asleep and unaware of what he was doing. He would pull you close to him, and listen to the soft rhythmic beat of your heart and the heart of his child. It was the only thing that calmed him, and it helped him drift off into a peaceful sleep.

But that night you woke, the baby was kicking and it made you feel nauseous. You got up to go to the bathroom, too groggy to notice Elijah in the shower until you walked in.

You gasped at the sight of him covered in blood, halfway through washing it off of him under the warm water.

He noticed the shocked look on your face, and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist.

"Is that... blood?" You asked, eyeing the pink tint to the water as it disappeared down the drain.

Elijah hesitated, "it's nothing you need to worry about," he insisted.

He wasn't trying to lie or deceive you, he was trying to protect you. He knew it was twisted and wrong, and he would be the first to admit he had a dark side, but he would never want you to see it.

"Why are you covered in blood?" You asked, a feeling of dread settling in the pit of your stomach.

Elijah was not accustomed to answering questions, he was usually the one giving the orders, but you were not one of his siblings. He would tell you the truth, you deserved that.

"It's the blood of those who wish to do us harm," he admitted.

He expected you to be shocked, but the truth was, you weren't. He was a Mikaelson, and a powerful vampire, it was only natural that others would want to hurt him and his family. Hayley had shared with you what happened to her when she gave birth to Hope, you were beyond frightened of it happening to you. Fear is a powerful thing, it can override any sort of morals you may possess.

"And did you kill them?" You asked, looking directly into his eyes.

He nodded, he could see that you were not upset, and he was relieved.

"How many?"

Elijah was slightly taken aback by your curiosity, and it gave him pause.

"A lot," he admitted, his dark eyes flashing in the dim light of the room.

"I know you are afraid, I am too," you said softly, reaching out and touching his face. "I'm afraid of the birth, of our child being in danger," you confessed, "and I'm afraid for you and all the darkness you take on to protect us,"

"I'm doing what I have to," he said softly, covering your hand with his.

"I know," you nodded, leaning closer and resting your forehead against his. "And I am grateful for that, and I trust you, but I don't want you to be consumed by it,"

He wrapped his arms around your waist and held you tight, listening to the gentle beat of your heart and that of your child.

"Let's get you back to bed," he said softly, kissing your forehead.

You were still exhausted, and he wanted you to rest. He helped you back to bed and tucked you in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before heading to his own room.

From that night on he stopped hunting, and spent more time with you. The two of you were becoming closer, but he didn't want you do feel any sort of pressure to be with him. He would be happy with whatever you were comfortable with.

He was plagued by nightmares, visions of you dead in his arms the same way Hayley was, and he woke up in a cold sweat every night. He would climb into bed next to you and pull you close, placing his hand on your bump and waiting for the baby to kick. When the child would move, it was a reassurance that the two of you were alive, and you were safe.

Your eighth month of pregnancy was difficult, and Elijah had become even more attentive. Your ankles were swollen, your back ached, and the baby was a wild one.

But the worst part was the hormones, they were completely out of control. You cried at everything, the commercial about a cute dog, a sad movie, and even a happy song. You were a wreck and it was a struggle just to get through the day.

Hayley, Rebekah and Freya had noticed your increasing distress and decided to throw you a baby shower. It was nice to be surrounded by people that cared about you.

The women of the Mikaelson family understood you more than anyone ever could, and they did their best to make sure you were comfortable. Hayley was especially sympathetic and supportive, having been through it herself.

"The last three months are killer," she laughed, patting your belly.

"Tell me about it," you sighed, watching Rebekah and Freya decorate the courtyard for the upcoming party.

"They are really going all out for this," Hayley laughed, and you could tell she was pleased that the other two were trying to make you feel welcome.

"I think it's more for the baby than me," you giggled, "they love being aunties,"

"Am I an auntie too?" Hayley teased, knowing she wasn't biologically connected, but the baby was still family.

You nodded, and she was beaming with joy.

"Well, i'm excited for Hope to have a little cousin, she needs someone to play with," Hayley smiled, her hand still resting on your belly.

You were both startled by a sudden sharp movement from the baby, and laughed.

"Well, this one will definitely keep her on her toes," you laughed.

The party was extravagant to say the least, it was more of a ball than a baby shower. Klaus had invited every faction of the supernatural world and there was an assortment of vampires, witches and wolves mingling together.

Klaus and Elijah decided to take an entirely different approach to your pregnancy and the impending birth than the one they had with Hayley.

They knew not to repeat the mistakes they made the first time and wanted to foster peace and harmony among the factions.

Elijah was on edge, his nightmares becoming increasingly worse, and he was struggling to find a way to ease his anxieties.

He would have preferred not to have this party, but he was overridden by the rest of his family.

He knew it was important, a sign of good faith and acceptance. But his mind was plagued with the past and the pain and suffering that came from that. He wanted to forget the horrors and the violence and the blood, and focus on the future and the new life that was coming.

He dove head first into the politics, spending the evening schmoozing and talking business with the representatives of each faction. It was the only way for him to feel calm and in control, and it kept his mind from drifting into darker corners.

"Are you okay?"

His thoughts were interrupted by you, and the sound of your voice calmed him. You had come over to him and was holding his hand, looking concerned.

You looked so beautiful, your hair in soft curls, your belly protruding from a flowy blue dress. You were round and glowing and a perfect picture of motherhood.

"Of course," he assured you, squeezing your hand and taking a sip of his drink.

You were worried about him, he seemed distant and preoccupied.

"It's too much isn't it? This party," you asked, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the crowds.

"No," he shook his head, "it's wonderful," he forced a smile, not wanting to worry you.

"If you want to leave, we can," you offered, feeling uncomfortable, and not wanting him to be either.

He kissed the side of your head, a gesture that made you blush. "This is for the baby, and I will not deny the baby anything,"

Elijah had always been a bit affectionate towards you, but he never overstepped his bounds and you were unsure of how to handle it. You enjoyed his presence, but it was getting a little confusing.

You were a bit flustered, and excused yourself, going to find some air outside. Elijah watched as you walked away and was tempted to follow, but he had his hands full, trying to talk the wolves out of challenging a vampire for a perceived slight.

You leaned against the balcony, letting the cool air calm your nerves.

"How's it going?" Said a party goer, you weren't sure what faction they were a part of, but they seemed a little drunk.

"Fine," you said, not wanting to be bothered.

"Pregnant with a Mikaelson, that's some shit luck," he snorted, clearly intoxicated.

"Excuse me?" You scoffed, wondering why this was a topic of discussion.

"I mean, there are three benefits to fucking vampires," he began, holding his hand up to count them, "one, no diseases, two, usually really good in bed and three, no pregnancies,"

He began to laugh, and you felt angry and defensive.

"I would appreciate it if you kept your mouth shut," you warned, not wanting to hear the drunken ramblings of an idiot.

"Was it worth one and maybe two to not have the third?" He laughed, clearly not getting the hint.

You were furious, and you went to walk away, but he grabbed your arm. "Lemme touch your belly, I wonder how strong a Mikaelson kicks," he laughed.

Before you could react Elijah appeared and had the drunk man by the throat. A crowd of party goers gathered to watch the scene.

Elijah was completely overcome by his rage, the fear in your eyes when the man grabbed you took him right back into his endless nightmares. A small part of him knew he should let the man go, but he couldn't, he was consumed by the thought that if he let go, he would lose you, and that was unacceptable.

He squeezed tighter and the man gagged, clawing at his hands and begging for mercy. The crowd gasped in horror as Elijah's eyes went black and veins crawled across his face.

"To anyone here who thinks it's okay to touch her, let this be an example of the fate you await," he snarled.

"Elijah!" You yelled, but it was too late.

The man was dead, and his head fell from his body.

You stood in shock, the entire party was silent, and Elijah dropped the body and turned towards you. He was shaking, and his eyes returned to their normal color, the veins disappearing from his face.

He turned to the crowd, projecting his voice loud and clear. "Do I make myself clear?" He growled, looking at the faces of everyone around him.

The room was full of fearful nods, and the crowd slowly dispersed.

Elijah took your hand, leading you out of the courtyard and towards his room.

You followed without a word, still in shock. He closed the door behind you and you sat down on his bed.

"Are you alright?" He asked, kneeling in front of you, his hands on your bump.

You nodded, and placed your hands over his.

"You have to understand," he began, and you could hear the strain in his voice, "when he touched you, when I saw his hands on you, I..."

He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, "I can't- I won't. Lose you."

"It's okay," you soothed, placing a hand on his cheek.

Elijah could hardly control his emotions, the fear and anguish was too much, and he let out a sob, pulling you into his arms and holding you tight.

You cradled his head in your hands and held him close, whispering sweet words and letting him know it was okay.

He was the strongest person you had ever known, and seeing him like this made your heart break.

"Shhh," you soothed, kissing the top of his head, "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere,"

You felt his grip loosen, and his breathing became more steady.

"It's okay," you repeated, placing soft kisses on his cheek and forehead, and moving to his lips.

You hadn't kissed in nearly 8 months, not since the night you had made love and conceived the baby. But you felt him return the kiss, and he wrapped his arms around you.

He was hesitant and unsure of how you would respond. You had been together once, but things had been complicated and stressful. But he wanted to show you just how much he loved you.

He pulled away, searching your eyes, and finding only compassion and acceptance.

"I'm hoping we can try again, to be together, if you will have me," he whispered, brushing a lock of hair out of your face.

You leaned into his touch, and he was hopeful that you would want the same.

"Of course," you agreed, pressing a soft kiss against his lips, and running your fingers through his hair.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other and enjoying the moment. It was peaceful and the first time Elijah had truly felt at ease in months.

The day of the birth was finally upon you, and you were nervous and in pain. Freya and Hayley were at your side, holding your hand and trying to keep you calm as they helped you through your labor.

Elijah was pacing in the hallway, anxious and on edge. He had been a wreck, barely able to eat or sleep, and it was obvious to the entire family.

He stopped, listening to you moan and groan and hiss in pain. He wished he could take it all away, and felt a wave of guilt wash over him.

"Why don't you go be with her," Rebekah suggested, putting a hand on her brothers shoulder.

"She doesn't want me in there," he sighed, he had tried, and you had pushed him out, not wanting him to see you like this.

"She's in pain, she's probably not thinking clearly," Rebekah insisted, "trust me, she wants you in there,"

Elijah wasn't sure, but he couldn't handle not being near you any longer, so he went in, ready to be rejected.

You were in bed, sweating and panting and groaning. Hayley was holding your hand and Freya was using a spell to soothe your pain.

You opened your eyes, and saw him, and reached out for him, and he ran to your side, taking your other hand in his.

"You are doing so well," he said softly, his voice full of love.

"I can't," you groaned, feeling as though you couldn't go on.

"Yes, you can," he encouraged, kissing your knuckles.

You were in agony, but his touch and his voice were like a balm to your soul, and it gave you strength.

Rebekah was right, having him next to you was the best thing in the world, and it helped you through the hours of labor.

Finally, the moment came, and you screamed as you gave one final push. The room was filled with the sound of a crying infant and you collapsed back against the pillows.

"It's a boy!" Freya announced, cutting the umbilical cord and wrapping the baby up, passing him over to you.

"Oh my goodness," you cried, tears of joy running down your face as you looked down at the precious life in your arms.

"A boy," Elijah whispered, staring at his son in awe. He reached out and placed his hand on his sons head, feeling the soft downy hair.

"He's beautiful," Hayley commented, admiring the little bundle.

"Just like his father," you smiled, and Elijah kissed the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you and your new baby.

You were exhausted, but ecstatic, and Elijah couldn't help but feel pride and joy. He had helped create such a perfect and precious creature. Out of all of his darkness came something pure and beautiful, and he would do anything to protect his son.

As the night went on the others left, leaving you and Elijah alone with the baby. The both of you couldn't take your eyes off of him.

"We need to decide on a name," you said softly, stroking the babies face with your finger.

"I think," Elijah began, watching the baby squirm and wriggle, "he should be named after his uncle Henrik,"

"That's perfect," you smiled, a tear running down your cheek, "Henry,"

"Henry," Elijah repeated, looking at his son, "I'm your father, and I promise to always love and protect you,"

"I will love you, until the end of time," you whispered, placing a soft kiss on Henry's tiny nose.

Henry let out a little squeak and yawned, and you and Elijah laughed. He was the most perfect thing you and Elijah had ever seen, and the two of you couldn't stop smiling.

Life at the compound was hectic, with Hope and Henry underfoot. Elijah was always watching the babies, making sure they were safe and happy. He was a wonderful father and uncle, and it made you fall in love with him even more.

The two of you were utterly exhausted new parents and Rebekah insisted that the two of you take a break and spend a little time together. She convinced you and Elijah to let her care for Henry for a weekend, while the two of you got away.

It was hard for both of you, you had never been apart from him for more than a few hours, but the two of you needed the time alone.

"Just go, have fun," Rebekah had encouraged, taking Henry from Elijah, "you both need a break,"

The drive was long, but Elijah's company made it go by faster, and you finally arrived at the cabin.

"I hope this is okay," Elijah said, helping you out of the car.

"It's perfect," you assured him, it was cozy and private, and the view was spectacular.

The two of you walked inside, and took in the surroundings. It was a large cabin, with a beautiful stone fireplace and a big open kitchen. Elijah started the fire as you cooked dinner, the two of you fully in sync.

It was easy having him as a partner, and you felt relaxed and at home. The only thing missing from your lives was sex. Once Henry arrived it was a constant state of exhaustion and there wasn't much room for romance.

You thought back to the night Henry was conceived, and how passionate and hot the experience was. But you were nervous to do it again, the pregnancy had changed your body, and you weren't sure how he would react.

After dinner you cuddled up with him on the couch, his arm around your shoulder and your head resting on his chest. He kissed the top of your head and smiled.

"I've missed this," he said softly, playing with a loose strand of your hair.

"Me too," you admitted, running your hand up and down his arm.

He took a deep breath, and you could tell he was nervous about something.

"Is everything okay?" You asked, turning to look at him.

"Yes," he nodded, his brown eyes meeting yours, "I just...want you to know that I am completely in love with you, and I will do anything to make you happy,"

You blushed, and looked away, not sure what to say.

"And I know our relationship has been a bit unconventional," he continued, his voice low, "but I would like to court you, if you will allow me,"

"Court me?" You chuckled, "darling, I think you are doing this all backwards,"

"Perhaps," he laughed, taking your hand in his, "I couldn't ask for a better mother for my child, and a more devoted companion,"

You smiled, and leaned in, kissing him, and the spark was still there. He kissed back, cupping your face with his hands and pulling you onto his lap. His hands roamed your body and your breath hitched when he ran them up your thighs.

"Is this okay?" He asked, stopping, and looking up at you.

You nodded, and pressed your lips against his, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinding against him. He groaned and gripped your hips, guiding them to move with his.

You could feel his growing erection, and the friction against your core made you moan. You had missed this, and could hardly believe you had waited so long.

He picked you up and carried you to the bedroom, laying you down and crawling on top of you, his lips never leaving yours.

You ran your fingers through his hair, and his hands traveled up your shirt, caressing your skin and cupping your breast.

You felt a bit self-conscious, your body was different now, and he hadn't seen it. You didn't want him to be disappointed, but you knew he wouldn't judge you.

"Darling, are you alright?" He asked, pulling away, "we can stop,"

"No," you shook your head, and sat up, "it's just, I'm a little nervous,"

"About?" He asked, furrowing his brows.

"My body," you admitted, "it's different now, and I know it's stupid, but I'm worried,"

He gave you a knowing look, and pulled your dress up over your head. You body was different, your breasts fuller, your hips wider, stretch marks across your belly and thighs.

"These scars are nothing to be ashamed of," he began, kissing the stretch marks across your stomach, "they show your strength and the fact that you brought a beautiful and healthy baby into the world,"

"Elijah," you blushed, not used to hearing him speak so openly about your body.

"These breasts, they have nourished our son. These hips, they carried and protected him," he continued, his hands on your body, caressing every inch.

"I have no words for how beautiful you are," he concluded, his eyes full of lust, "may I continue?"

You nodded, and he pulled his shirt off, exposing his chiseled torso. You ran your hands over his shoulders, tracing his muscles, and down his chest.

He trailed his lips up to your breasts, gently kissing them and sucking your nipples. He was gentle and slow, and it felt incredible. They were extra sensitive from breastfeeding, and his touch sent a shock straight to your core.

He slowly removed your underwear, his eyes raking over your naked body. He kissed every inch of your skin, loving every part of you.

His lips traveled down your belly, and settled between your legs. His tongue moved expertly against your clit, and you gasped, grabbing the sheets.

He hummed contently, missing the taste of you, and wanting to please you. His hands held your thighs, and his tongue teased and swirled.

You moaned and arched your back, it had been so long and you were so close already. He knew just how to get you there, and it only took a few minutes for him to bring you over the edge.

He didn't stop, and continued, sucking and licking, bringing you to orgasm again and again. Your head was spinning, and you could hardly breath, but it felt amazing.

Finally he stopped, and kissed his way up your body, until his lips met yours.

"You deserve a reward for being such a perfect mother," he smiled, his voice full of pride.

You smiled, and kissed him again, running your hands down his chest and stopping at his waistband.

"Now I think it's your turn," you whispered, unbuttoning his pants.

He smiled and watched your face as you underdressed him. His cock sprung free, and you stroked it, running your hand up and down the shaft. Looking into his eyes as he kneeled over you, his eyes heavy and filled with lust.

"It's been so long, I missed your touch," he growled, his voice husky.

"I've missed this too," you replied, stroking him and running your thumb over the tip.

He kissed you slowly and deeply, moaning as your hands worked him. His tongue explored your mouth, and you felt him twitch and throb in your hands.

"Hold on," he said softly, moving away from you.

He got up and rummaged around his bag, coming back with a condom.

"I've never used one of these before," he said sheepishly, and it was the most adorable thing.

You laughed and sat up, taking the foil packet and opening it, rolling it over his cock and kissing him.

"Now, where were we?" You smirked, laying back down.

He crawled back on top of you, lining his cock up with your entrance. He was still gentle, but you were ready for him, and the two of you were eager.

He pushed in, and it felt like the first time, hot and tight. He took his time, pushing in a bit at a time and allowing you to adjust.

Once he was fully inside, he waited a moment, kissing you, and savoring the feeling of being joined with you.

You moved your hips, signaling him to move, and he complied, thrusting slowly and deeply.

The two of you rocked back and forth, the soft sound of skin against skin filling the air. He moved with the perfect rhythm, hitting the right spot with every thrust.

His mouth was on your neck, leaving love bites, and his hands were on your hips, gripping tightly.

"I love you," he groaned, his voice strained.

"I love you too," you moaned, feeling yourself getting close.

You never wanted this to end, a part of you longing for even more than what you already had. You looked into his eyes, feeling the way his body connected with yours so perfectly.

Your orgasm rushed over you, and you squeezed him so hard he pulled out for moment, his cock resting on your stomach. He looked down at you, your pupils blown with love and lust.

"Do you want to make a sibling for Henry?" You said softly, toying gently with the tip of the condom, searching his eyes for an answer.

"Is that something you want?" He asked, looking down at you with pure love.

"Yes," you nodded, "I want another baby, I want a whole family with you,"

He kissed you in response, then smiled down at you, his eyes shining with happiness.

"I will give you anything you want," he whispered.

You pulled the condom off slowly, both of you panting heavily. He looked down, watching as your hands wrapped around his bare cock, pumping up and down, spreading the precum over the head.

You lined him back up, and he pushed back in, his breath catching as he eased his way into your warm and wet heat.

You could feel him throbbing inside of you, his length twitching and swelling as he got closer. He moaned, and rested his forehead against yours, his eyes shut tight.

"I want you to cum inside me," you whispered, knowing he was close.

You could feel yourself getting close, and his breath was labored, his hips grinding against yours, your wetness coating him.

His hips snapped, and his hands gripped the sheets, and with one final thrust he came, filling you up and pushing you over the edge.

He kissed you as he came down, his cock still pulsing as he softened inside of you. He hummed happily, keeping you connected as he rolled you on your side.

You curled up against him, and kissed him, and he pressed his hand gently against your stomach, imagining a tiny being forming inside.

"I always wanted a family of my own," he said softly, nuzzling into you, "thank you for giving me that,"

You squeezed him tighter, understanding the weight of his words. He had given you everything, love, devotion, a family. It was everything you ever wanted. He had helped you become the happiest and the best version of yourself and you did the same for him.

The two of you laid there, cuddled up against each other, safe and content. Tomorrow would bring a new adventure, but right now everything was perfect.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog

[antinousletmehit]

Pairing: platonic!Antinous x fem!reader/ Telemachus x fem!reader

Note: a chapter of this series will come out each day because I’ve already pre written this stuff PRE ITHACA SAGA so the future chapters regarding that may or may not be changed. Also I will go through readers and Antinous’s backstory as siblings soon.

THIS IS PART 3

Here’s where you can find part 2–> https://www.tumblr.com/antinousletmehit/771422711234887681/paring-telemachus-x-femreader-notes-first

N/N= nickname

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

Y/n strolled out of the hall, her smirk lingering from the sheer delight of watching Telemachus squirm. The cool, quiet halls of the palace gave way to the raucous noise of the main hall. Laughter, shouting, and the occasional clatter of a goblet hitting the floor filled the space.

The Suitors were sprawled around the room, gambling with dice, boasting of how Penelope looked their way and didn’t frown, and play-fighting as if they were on a battlefield. Plates of half-eaten food littered the tables, and amphorae of wine were passed around with careless abandon.

Y/n weaved through the chaos, dodging an overly enthusiastic shove between two men sparring with wooden swords. She reached for a cup of water from a passing servant’s tray, taking a sip before a familiar voice cut through the din.

“Well, if it ain’t little N/N!”

Y/n turned to see her brother, Antinous, standing near one of the tables, arms wide in mock celebration. He was surrounded by a few of the rowdier Suitors, his grin as sharp and confident as ever.

“Don’t call me that,” she said, though her tone lacked any real annoyance.

“Why not? It suits you,” Antinous replied, leaning on the edge of the table. “Little N/N, always poking her nose where it doesn’t belong. Tell me, who have you been tormenting now?”

“Who says I’ve been tormenting anyone?” she asked innocently, taking another sip of water.

Antinous laughed, throwing his head back. “Oh, come now. You have that look about you. The same one I get after outsmarting some poor fool.” He narrowed his eyes at her playfully. “Let me guess… Telemachus?”

Y/n smirked, leaning against a nearby pillar. “Who else? He’s so easy, Antinous. All I have to do is say a few words, and he’s blushing like a maiden on her wedding day.”

The Suitors around Antinous erupted in laughter, one of them slapping the table so hard the dice scattered. “The prince of Ithaca, reduced to a stammering fool by a girl!” one of them crowed.

Antinous grinned, raising his goblet in a mock toast. “Well done, sister. You’re learning from the best.”

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “If I’m learning from you, then maybe I should start charging him for the privilege of my company.”

“That’s the spirit!” Antinous said, gesturing for her to sit at the table with him. “Why waste your talents on free entertainment when you could profit from them? You could even outdo me one day.”

“Outdo you?” she repeated with a laugh, setting her cup down. “Is that even possible?”

The two of them shared a laugh, their sibling bond clear in the way they teased each other. Around them, the Suitors continued their games and boasts. But in the back of Y/N’s mind, an image lingered—Telemachus, standing defiant despite her taunts.

Y/n leaned back in her chair, her smirk lingering as Antinous poured himself a goblet of wine. Around her, the Suitors’ voices ebbed and flowed in waves of laughter and drunken arguments, but Y/ns focus was on her brother.

He was always the center of attention, effortlessly commanding the room. He had a knack for it, a charisma that even she had to admire. Still, as much as she enjoyed their games, Antinous’s antics sometimes grated on her nerves.

“Do you ever get tired of playing king?” Y/n asked, swirling the water in her goblet.

Antinous arched an eyebrow, his grin unwavering. “King? No, sister. I’m merely trying to keep the throne warm for the day Odysseus never returns. Someone has to take charge, after all. And that old relic is too busy mourning a dead man than to choose the man who’ll have her to wife.”

“Is that what you call drinking, gambling, and pretending you’re invincible?” she quipped. Her smirk sharper than the edge of Antinous’s blade.

Antinous laughed, unbothered by her jab. “Careful, Y/n. Envy doesn’t suit you.”

“Envious? Of you?” She scoffed, though her smile betrayed her amusement. “I’d rather be the serpent hiding in the shadows than the lion roaring in the open. You should know better than anyone how that story ends.”

Antinous paused, his grin faltering just slightly. It was fleeting, but Y/n noticed. She always did. He recovered quickly, leaning back in his chair with an air of practiced ease.

“And yet, here you are, mingling with the lions,” he said, gesturing to the raucous crowd around them. “Perhaps you’re not so different from me after all.”

Y/n didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she let her gaze drift over the room. The Suitors were a sorry lot, drunken fools more concerned with games and glory than anything of substance. Telemachus wasn’t wrong to hate them. She hated them too, in her own weird way.

Her mind wandered back to the interaction with Telemachus, to the flash of anger in Telemachus’s eyes as she goaded him. It wasn’t the first time she’d pushed him, and it wouldn’t be the last. There was something about him, something raw and untapped, like a blade waiting to be sharpened.

“You’re quiet,” Antinous said, breaking her thoughts. He tilted his head, studying her. “What are you thinking about now?”

Y/n smirked, meeting his gaze. “Nothing you need to worry about, brother. Just thinking about how boring this lot is.” She gestured to the rowdy group around them. “Don’t you ever wish for something… more challenging?”

Antinous chuckled, leaning closer. “Challenges are for those who have something to prove. I don’t have anything to prove, I know who I am and I prefer to enjoy myself.”

“Of course you do,” she said dryly, taking another sip of her water.

Antinous didn’t press further, turning his attention back to the game at hand. Y/n, however, let her thoughts drift again, this time to Telemachus.

Y/n smiled to herself, setting her goblet down. The lions could keep roaring. She would remain the serpent, coiled and patient, waiting for the right moment to strike.

[queer-n-here]

So uh, Siren Chuuya x Siren!Yander Reader?

I just think of your yandere x Chuuya, and i literally fell in love with it.

So, Siren, i think they are possessive and obsessive?

Maybe Reader is a child of the sea or sth? Experiment? Mythical creatures? Ability? But they just can control and know everything about the sea or involve the sea (Reader studies and research about it before)

They meet on time on one of Chuuya's mission? Or perhaps Reader is able to turn human for a amount of time but decided to explore human things and meet Chuuya at a wine shop? Or a hat shop?

And the reader take a liking to Chuuya, it slowly spiral to a healthy degree

The next is reader luring Chuuya with their voice, pulling and keeping Chuuya down by the sea force and make him stay with them? (Make a kingdom underwater too? Or turn Chuuya half-siren so he can breath and adapt well to the sea)

.....if anyone make a bot out of this, then i would totally eat it up :)))

Any, have a good day!

-F.S

Content: As described by the ask.

Warnings: Obsession, mentions of stalking, nothing light and hearty here.

Your ability was unique.

Sure, there was only one type of every other ability in the world, but yours was different. Yours changed your body, morphed it into some kind of unknown creature, so much so that it scared your parents enough to make them throw you into a river a month after you were born.

Luckily, your ability came to aid. It adjusted your body quickly, and within seconds you had developed gills and a tail. Your skin hid behind shiny black scales, and your small stub of a tooth turn jagged like a blade.

You never saw your parents again, and admittedly very soon you even forgot their mere existence.

As you grew up, you moved from the river to a sea, and then to an ocean. The world of water was yours and there was no one to stop you. You taught yourself to hunt for food, sometimes just corals when you were feeling lazy, and other days entire sharks.

Slowly, the other aquatic creatures came to fear you, respect you. As long as they heeded your words, you would protect them from the human fishers, and so peace reigned.

But at times you felt as though something was missing. There was something you wished for, something you yearned for, that you did not have yet. And so you began changing your form again, turning your tail into the human limbs you had been born with and returning to land for a short period of time.

It did not take you long to learn their language, but soon you realised they had more than one. It did not trouble you, you only found an excuse to spend more time in their midst. If, you told the other sea creatures, someday some emergency occured, someone should know how to talk their way out with the humans.

And so you kept visiting their world, alternating between your human and siren form, travelling between land and water. It did not seem to tire you out.

One day, as you walked through a busy market, you spotted in the distance a colourful hat. The colour was not what attracted you, it was the texture of it. It looked as if it were adorned with scales, the very ones that covered your skin when you were in you siren form.

You moved towards it almost involuntarily, and before you knew it you were standing before the hat in its glass display. However, right next to you, also slightly enthralled by the hat, was a human.

You turned to look at him.

He was not very big; he only reached your shoulder, in fact, but his expression was filled to the brim with arrogance. He had long orange hair, and in the sunlight they shone as he turned to look at you, too, making him appear heavenly. He had eyes that changed color with light, and as they fell upon you they were filled with slight reluctance.

"You like this one too, huh?" He said, jutting his chin towards the hat on display.

Slightly at a loss of words, you nodded.

He humped. "You've good taste. I'm gonna buy it, though."

You tilted your head slightly at that, a small smirk playing on your lips. This human was... intriguing.

You turned to look at the hat again. One pretty thing in exchange for another... not a bad deal. And so you let him have it.

Afterwards, however, you silently followed him back to wherever he was heading. You were drawn to him in a way that you hadn't been to anything in your life. You watched him enter a shady building, one that was suspected to be a warehouse owned by human orcas... they were called the Mafia, you heard.

It did not take you long to learn his name, and you returned back to the sea that evening feeling satisfied, but only for now. Chuuya Nakahara was not aware of what the future held in store for him.

You began spending more time on land than in sea, and it was somehow always spent watching Chuuya. You learnt of his job, of his friends, and of that bandaged brat Chuuya seemed to despise and care for at the same time.

Soon, simply watching him was not enough. You wanted him by your side, looking up at you with those gorgeous eyes and letting you do to him as you wished.

And so you prepared to use the one thing you never had before: your Siren voice.

You made sure he was by himself when you sang to him, standing at the balcony of his apartment, looking out into the sea. His eyes widened when your voice fell onto his ears, and reason exited his brain. You called him to the sea, and he obeyed, leaving behind his beloved hat and coat to join you where you stood upright on your fishtail.

You smiled. Chuuya looked ethereal even when he was drenched.

"You will stay with me." You said, and the spell that you had cast embedded itself in his chest, underneath the covers of his clothes.

That was how simple it was for you. You took him to an island no human has ever set foot on, and began working out a way to turn him into a Siren. He would rule the sea by your side, just as you wished.

It did not take you long to figure out how to do it. You simply needed to place a part of you inside of him permanently, so that you could morph it into a fishtail and gills.

Hungry with desire and endlessly insatiable, you decided that it would be your seed.

When you fucked Chuuya, he did not struggle. Of course, your spell was too strong for him to even think of anything but the pleasure you were giving him. You finished, and just then, activated your ability.

It was as you had envisioned. He looked prettier still with a fishtail, his bright orange scales matching his hair as they splashed into the water, and you took him to your home for the first time.

That was it. Happily ever after.

Chuuya never awoke from your spell. His friends attempted to find him several times, but you sent forth dolphins to hinder their progress, and slowly, as decades passed, they all died one by one.

The two of you ruled the world of water, and, finally satisfied with your new love, you returned to your daily duties of being the King of the Sea.

[helenabuu32]

Finally thought of some more headcannon ideas! So here’s my hc’s for who in the Bucci Squad is good at cooking!

Bucci Squad cooking + bonus cooking for their S/O or crush!

Bucciarati:

Of course mother can cook

For real though, he’s one of the best cooks in the group.

I can imagine a young Bruno learning how to cook with his mother, and after she decided to leave it was something he kept up and just kept getting better at

Could also see him going out of his way to cook food for homeless or elderly people around the city just because he loves helping others so much.

He loves cooking for the rest of the squad and likes to have nights where everyone gets together and he can just make a bunch of different dishes and have a great time with his friends. He always make sure that everyone has at least one of their favourite dishes on the table, even if it means spending the entire day in the kitchen

When he has a crush or is in a relationship, he loves cooking for them and secretly learning their favourite dishes so he can surprise them with a romantic dinner. Candles, red roses, fancy wine and music, the whole classic dinner date thing.

Excellent cook, but not as good at baking. Still good though.

Mista:

This man burns water

He’s so bad. He tried to help Bucciarati once when everyone was supposed to come over and Bucciarati had to hide himself gagging. He then tried his best to fix the dish while Mista got distracted so he didn’t have to throw it out and make him feel bad…

…because of this, Mista thinks he’s a great cook.

Even when he makes something bad, he’ll try it and think it’s fine…I imagine he’s like Joey from Friends and will literally just eat anything

He cannot bake either, at all. Even if someone hands him one of those tubes of the pillsbury premade dough things that you literally just have to place on a pan, he will burn them

The first time he tried to cook for his s/o or crush he set the oven on fire

Proceeded to serve the meal after spraying everything with a fire extinguisher

They ended up ordering take out that night, but s/o or crush says next time they’ll help him because they can see how hard he was trying :)

Narancia:

Okay he’s still pretty bad but surprisingly not as bad as Mista

He’s not great with measurements and following instructions because he doesn’t read, so he kinda learned over the years what works and what doesn’t

He still often gets distracted or will put his headphones on and miss the timer, so he often overcooks or burns things…but every once in a while he actually comes up with something edible

He likes trying to help Bucciarati in the kitchen but gets frustrated easily and is known to just be like “fuck this” and go off and listen to music somewhere

He actually tries to bake for his s/o / crush the first time and the cookies look really good!

Until they take a bite and they realize he accidentally used salt instead of sugar…s/o / crush laughs it off and they make another batch together that actually turn out pretty good :)

Will leave the kitchen a mess for days after he’s done if nobody makes/helps him clean up

Abbacchio:

Boy can COOK

He actually might be better than Bucciarati…

But he doesn’t do it for everyone that often because he doesn’t like drawing the attention to himself. When he helps Bruno in the kitchen, everyone just kinda assumes that Bruno did most of the work. He doesn’t really mind as long as he knows deep down that people are enjoying what he made, he doesn’t care about being praised for it.

If the others try to help in the kitchen he gets annoyed and just starts drinking wine.

Will eventually get so fed up that he goes to the dining room table and continues to sip his wine while he listens to all the chaos going on in the kitchen so he doesn’t lose his shit at everyone (mostly Mista and Narancia)

When he first cooks for his s/o or crush he actually tries to pretend that Bruno made it or that he got takeout from a fancy restaurant “this isn’t even a date, shut up and eat.”

Obviously s/o crush can tell he made it. He forgot to clean up around the stove because he was actually panicking about them coming over. S/o/crush won’t out him but won’t stop going on about how DELICIOUS the food is…

…He lied, he loves the praise.

Fugo:

He’s actually a pretty decent cook!

He’s good at following instructions, so he’s naturally just good at following recipes. What idiot couldn’t follow a book….

…Oh. Yeah he’s not allowed in the kitchen when Narancia is there because once he got so angry at him that he broke a wine glass over his head.

When Narancia (and Mista tbh) aren’t there though, he really enjoys helping Bruno in the kitchen. He’s not on the same level as him or Abbacchio, but at least everything he makes ends up tasting good.

I feel like he would be even better at baking actually, because I find baking tends to use a lot more numbers and measuring out ingredients to exact numbers. It’s like science and Fugo loves that.

The first time his S/o or crush tastes his cooking or baking, it’s actually because he brought it “for the squad”. He’s too embarrassed to admit that he just wanted to see if they’d enjoy what he made. He gets all flustered when they tell him how good it is and leaves the room. But then starts bringing stuff almost every week for them to try.

Giorno:

I feel like he’s on the same level or a little better than Fugo…

He always had to kinda take care of himself, so naturally he learned to cook for himself as well

Unlike Fugo, he doesn’t go by the book as much. He just picked up from restaurants and over time learned what worked together

He does also enjoy baking sometimes because he has a bit of a sweet tooth, but just basic things like cookies, brownies, etc.

He doesn’t really help Bucciarati in the kitchen because Abbacchio just glares at him the whole time. Leone hates that he’s actually okay at cooking. Can this kid just be bad at something wtf.

If Abbacchio does get fed up and goes off to sulk somewhere, he doesn’t mind stepping in to help out though

When cooking for an s/o or crush, he has a similar approach to Bucciarati. He likes to make it romantic but in a more light-hearted way? Like he prefers more upbeat music, maybe even sitting on the couch and watching a movie instead of at a table. He will always make sure to sprout a beautiful bouquet of their favourite flowers to be on display nearby, though.

Trish:

Trish just doesn’t really like cooking

She doesn’t like how sweaty the kitchen can get, and hates how onions make her cry. Her mascara is expensive!

Just sits back and lets the boys take care of everything when Bucciarati has the squad over for dinner. Cooking is already stressful enough without 3 fistfights breaking out…

Although she doesn’t like cooking, she wouldn’t be terrible at it if she were in a situation where she had to.

She does on the other hand enjoy baking though!

She always loved baking with her mom growing up. Her favourite thing to make is cupcakes because it’s so much fun to decorate them with colourful icing and cute sprinkles when they’re done!

The first time her s/o or crush tries her baking, they’re just hanging out and she all of the sudden gets the idea to make frosted brownies. She has a lot of fun seeing the different approach they take to decorating them. They start to have weekly baking dates where they try something new every time, and sometimes brings the boys leftovers :)

Yaaaay another one done! I really do love making these. My asks are open so if you enjoyed reading this and would like to see my hcs for a particular situation, go ahead and let me know! I’m also always looking for more moots to talk about JJBA and other stuff with 💖

[roronoa-roro]

Date nights !!

Pairing: kita x reader, osamu x reader, atsumu x reader

Coming up next: kenma x reader, kageyama x reader, recommendations if any

disclaimer: reader is gender neutral.

ᴋɪᴛᴀ ꜱʜɪɴꜱᴜᴋᴇ :

Date nights with kita shinsuke are pretty chill. Usually you both are exhausted from the week and just decide to relax with each other. Oil massages, aromatherapy, and a nice, long soak in the warm water with your favourite bath bomb. Your legs intertwine with his as you bond skin to skin. Post bath, Kita princess-carries you — oh, he's a strong man — to the desk, where lay your elaborate set of skincare utilities. Kita absolutely adores the way you slap the mask on his face, rambling about all the damage the long hours under the sun does to his skin. He loves the way your eyes twinkle, reflecting the twenty or so candles he lit around the dark room since you love aesthetics so much.

His lips set into a smirk as you apply moisturizer to his torso and always get distracted by his strong muscles. He loves the part where you hand him the moisturizer and let him massage it into your skin even more. The best part of the date though, is when it's all over and you both are on the bed, your head on his chest and his arms around you. And you just bask in the presence of each other. It is nice, Kita thinks to himself. It is so, so, so nice he could do this forever. The love and adoration overcome him as he kisses your forehead and slips into the best slumber he's had that week.

❝ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ, Qᴜɪᴛᴇ ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʟʟʏ. ❞

ᴍɪʏᴀ ᴏꜱᴀᴍᴜ :

Osamu loves date nights. It's his time to experiment with his favourite recipes and have a taster at the ready. He always has cutesy little onigiris and soft mochis with pink eyes and tongues ready for date nights. And you are also expected to cook something for him. You could be a Michelin star chef, or a hazard to the kitchen, or anything in between, best believe that man is getting you into the kitchen with him. The night is filled with bickering and laughter, as you both discuss ingredient proportions and the best flavours. It always ends up with silly accidents and one of you covered in flour.

Once the cuisine is ready, it's served on the previously prepared candle lit table for two on the balcony. The balcony itself is decorated elaborately with a little something from both, you and Osamu. Over dinner, sometimes you both pretend to be aristocrats, smelling and tasting the wine, using forks and knives. Other times, you both gossip, brutally tearing on anything and everything you can debate on. And most of the times, it's just staring cheesily into each other's eyes and smiling like dorks, cuz wtf, you both are so in love with each other. It's bliss, drinking in each other's features in the romantic setting and carving the memory deep into your heart.

❝ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ, ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ ❞

ᴍɪʏᴀ ᴀᴛꜱᴜᴍᴜ :

Date nights with Atsumu are crazy. Atsumu is a very spontaneous man, and he knows how to have fun. One thing you absolutely learned from dating atsumu is that dressing comfy was the go-to with him. He could be asking you out for a movie and then halfway change his mind and take you to the amusement park, just because it looked so pretty from afar. Sometimes when you are tired, he would settle for board games, and if you're not in the mood, then a vent session for you both. And the vent sessions are so awesome. Because, however unhinged the vent could be, the responsibility of the other person is to hype the vent. So, a typical vent session would go—

"I couldn't believe that prof's audacity! I literally turned in the paper at the last second— like rh timestamp was literally there and he had the fucking audacity to say I submitted it late. That bitch!"

"YEAH!! That bitch!!! How dare he do that to youuu!!! :((("

"I KNOW RIGHT??? I hope his house burns down!"

"That's right, we're gonna burn his house down!!!"

"Yeah, but save his dog. It's a cutie."

"YAYYY, SAVE DA DAWG AND BURN DA BITCH!!!!"

Eventually, one of you would break into giggles, and soon enough, both of you would be clutching your stomachs, laughing at how absurd it all was. By the time you made it to bed, you'd be so worn out that sleep would come instantly, comforted by the sound of each other's gentle breathing. No matter how you drifted off, he would end up spooning you, his fingers softly entwined with yours.

[mazikeenhyde]

Less than a Minute - Part 4 - Final

WARNING – 18+ ONLY – MINORS DNI

PLEASE UNDERSTAND THIS FANFICTION HEAVILY COMMENTS ON DEPRESSION & SUICIDE. This is your warning if you are easily triggered! 

A Poly!Judgment-Day fanfiction containing themes and mentions of DEPRESSION, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, LONLINESS, PANIC ATTACKS, SMUT (GIRL-ON-GIRL), ANGST, SADNESS, ALCOHOL, HOSPITALS etc 

READER X JUDGMENT DAY – POLY – Rhea, Damien, Finn, Dominik x READER- Written mainly in first person view (Reader Female) 

 Italic font – flashback, speech or memories

Word Count -4,167 +

Less than a minute – Part 4

04:40am – December 26th, 2023

“Fucking birds…” I muttered to myself as I dragged my feet to the bathroom. I had never been a morning person; I had never been one to leap out of bed at the crack of dawn and seize the day! And I certainly wasn’t the one who suggested we take a family trip out to the middle of nowhere to spend Christmas in the countryside where there were quite literally hundreds, no scratch that bloody thousands of God damn fucking birds singing in every bush, shrub and tree for miles. Not to mention that stupid fucking rooster from the local village farm that thought now was a great time to warm up its voice, clearly preparing itself for a debut at the local karaoke chicken barn. 

“Stupid fucking birds cocka-doodl-fucking-dooing at stupid fucking four am in the fucking morning” I ranted quietly as I ran my toothbrush under the sink and started brushing my teeth. I could see my reflection in the mirror, what a sight! My hair looked like someone had dragged me backwards through a hedge to have their way with me, to be fair, that remark wasn’t too far from the truth. I dare not go downstairs for the fear of seeing the mess that needed cleaning up. Between the five of us we had polished off 4 bottles of champagne, half a bottle of vodka, two bottles of red wine and I don’t think I want to recount just how many tequila bombs Finn had magically made appear. And in turn we had all made disappear. Top the night off with a very…. messy? Group jacuzzi dip and hey presto, A hangover from Hell. 

I could feel my head lightly spinning as I closed my eyes holding onto the wall for support whilst continuing to clean my teeth. I had become a pro at composing myself the morning after the night before, I knew the drill and how to stop it from getting any worse. 

Brush Teeth 

Pint of water 

Pain killers 

Close the door and avoid all human interaction for the foreseeable future 

Swear to never drink again 

Remind yourself these rules are a load of bollocks, and you never learn. 

Christmas day had been incredible and the matching fleecy pyjamas we had all gone to bed in were the cherry on top. I mean they didn’t fully stay on for long… but it was the thought from Dominik that counted. Rhea and I in little candy cane vest top and shorts and the boys each with long legged fleecy trousers and t-shirts also printed with little candy canes. Too sweet for words and apparently far too irresistible to tear off each other. 

I peeked my head out the bathroom window and smirked at the sight. Some abandoned pyjama pieces both inside and out the jacuzzi were all that remained out there of a very memorable, but fuzzy night. It was still dark out, but the sun had begun to make an appearance, so a very soft warming glow was ever so slightly lighting the horizon. The countryside really was beautiful in the winter, frosted windowpanes and a festive chill in the air really made it feel like Christmas… Well boxing day now. 

As I continued to clean my teeth, I looked back at myself in the mirror pulling my hair into a messy bun.

There it was.

 I could see it there… for a moment. 

That pain hiding in my eyes. 

 I could see it.

 I could feel it.

 I had been running from it for some time now and I had hoped if I just pushed myself, if I focused and didn’t think about it, maybe it would go away. How naive I was to think life was ever that kind. Why was this happening, everything is good, everything was okay. I’m surrounded by love, by compassion, by happiness. This can’t be happening. But it was, it was happening. 

The world around me began to fall, the room echoed away, and the bells began to ring. As if nothing existed around but me… and the fear.

I held the sink tightly, balancing the toothbrush between my teeth. “No…No…Come on... Come on” I whispered, gripping the basin tighter and taking a sharp short breath. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest, the pace ever growing and the room around closing in. Why was this happening. Why?!

 I held back the tears that were threatening their escape and turned the cold tap on, spitting out the toothbrush and flushing my face with the water in attempt to ground myself. 

Quickly turning I closed and locked the bathroom door behind me and ever so silently I slid myself down the door frame till I collapsed into a hunched ball on the cold tiled floor. 

For an hour I sat there. Alone. In silence. I didn’t say a word. I didn’t move a muscle. I barley even blinked. I didn’t shed a single tear. As if I had dissociated from all reality, I felt as if I didn’t even exist. Did I want to exist?

------------------------------------------------------

As quickly as it came, it went. Standing to my feet I quietly unlocked the bathroom door and crept back into the bedroom. Sprawled out across a rather incredibly large king size bed lay a bundle of entangled limbs. Finn lay with one arm hanging off the bed and a Santa hat pushed back across his hair. Dominik’s head tucked up under his arm with one leg wrapped over Rhea’s waist and the other above the duvet. Hidden underneath the mullet was the dark locks of a miss Rhea Ripley whose black lipstick had been smudged down the side of her cheek. Smirking to myself I remembered having her face buried between my thighs under the Christmas tree while the boys played beer pong in the kitchen, unbeknown to them that us girls were sharing a little late ‘Christmas’ gift.  

“Quickly!” Rhea said softly under her breath as she laughed taking my hand and sneaking away from the kitchen where Damien, Dominik and Finn had set up the dining table in order to begin a beer pong tournament. Slightly spilling our drinks in the hallway, we snuck our way into the opposing front room and closed the door behind us. The little cottage we had rented was a truly beautiful masterpiece, it stood in a huge field with no nearby neighbours. Exactly the kind of place you would want to escape to when you and your partners live life in the eye of the ever-nosey public view. 

Rhea took my champagne glass from me and set it down with hers as well on the wooden unit before turning to face me. An ever so cheeky smile she grinned, showing off that enticing black lipstick and long lashes that had never failed to pull me into her grasp. 

Running her right hand through my hair she raised her left hand and reached over trailing her fingers up my bare thighs, I shivered to her touch. Her grip tightened as she took a fistful of my hair and pinned me against the wall opposite a rather stupidly positioned Christmas tree. My breathe hitched in my throat as her lips positioned themselves mere millimetres from the dark red lipstick across mine. 

“Hola Bunny….” Rhea spoke oh so softly, leaning across my chest and into my ear as she released her grip in my hair whilst moving my hands to position them above my head. 

“Don’t. Move.” She stated and slowly she crouched down removing my shorts before throwing one of my legs over her shoulder and pulled my red laced panties to the side with her other free hand. 

“Feliz Navidad” She smirked, winking up at me before rolling the cold stud in her tongue through the folds between my legs and planting a soft gentle kiss on my clit. 

“Fuckkkk.” I whimpered, desperately trying to keep my hands above my head as her tounge moved back, ever increasing her speed as she caressed my sensitive bud between her teeth. Moving my leg slightly higher on her shoulder she slid two fingers inside of me and began to pump as her lipstick smeared its way across my wet pussy lips and I felt my legs shiver. Harder. Faster. With no mercy. Rhea was rough, her nails dug into my pale skin and her persistent tounge dug ever deeper, hunting down the orgasm she so desperately wanted across her face. A knot began building inside my stomach as the muscles in my thighs tightened and I shifted my weight onto her before gripping onto the first thing I could reach. 

“Fuckk, Fuckk, Rhea... oh godd” I pleaded as my entire body tensed and a part of me panicked at the idea of losing this feeling if I couldn’t find my balance. 

Pinning me against the wall with her hands, her face, her entire body weight even she gripped my one lose arm that had fallen from above my head to lock me in position whilst my other free arm had latched itself onto the Christmas tree for dear life, now no longer standing straight in its metal stand. The lights on it flickered on and off as we both shook, unable to hold our positions still. 

Rhea pounded into my aching pussy with her fingers as her tounge stud bullied against me, I could feel the sweat begin to drip down my neck and into my cleavage as I panted, and my heart threatened to break from my chest. Rhea gripped my body so tightly tipping me over the edge and the orgasm she had worked so hard for spilled out across her face, ruining what was left of that perfectly placed lipstick liner. 

The boys wouldn’t have actually ever known what we were up to if I hadn’t forgotten I wasn’t exactly standing with two feet on the ground. Instead relaxing for a moment, Rhea shifted her weight off me, and I went to move but ended up toppling the Christmas tree over on top of us. 

A loud crash echoed through the cottage, along with the familiar sound of smashing baubles (a sound that came with a reminder from when we had once trusted Dom to unwrap the Christmas decorations, I reckon 8/10 of them he had either dropped, stood on, misplaced or knocked off the tree completely) and the fairy lights short circuiting from the plug coming out the wall. 

The door flew open and in ran Finn and Dom who didn’t look half as shocked as Damien looked gutted to have missed out. 

“Are you okay?!” Finn and Dom said in Unison. 

“Where was my invite!?” Damien demanded looking down on a half undressed and slightly exposed me whilst Rhea ran her hand around her lips enjoying what was left from the actions from before and smirking towards the boys before winking at me. 

----------------------------

Damien laid face down into the bed on his chest with his entire body laying ontop of the duvet, I wondered if he had passed out like that or if he just liked showing off his bright green and red stripped ‘Mr Grinch’ pants. Either way, that was one fine ass. The devil on my shoulders first word of thought was to bite down it, mark my territory you could say. But the ever-increasing hangover told me otherwise and the opposing angel buried that idea quickly. Had Damien put me across his knee for misbehaving I wasn’t entirely sure all the alcohol was going to stay down with the impact. Ever tempting as it may have been. 

Instead seizing my opportunity, I gently tip toed over to the bedside and climbed over to position myself between Damien and Rhea. Snuggling myself under the duvet and into his embrace he was quick to join me and turn over taking in a deep inhale of my hair, kissing my head and quickly falling back asleep. 

I wished we could have paused the clock there. Time could have stood still, and I could have never felt safer than in the arms of the four people who made my heart feel so full. Can’t have it all though can you, secretly I knew that. I knew that this was just the beginning of my downfall. I never would have known how bad it could have gotten. 

Who knew when you hit rock bottom, there’s a basement that follows. 

The sounds of the hospital filled every inch of the waiting room, the persistent beeps and alarms ringing from every was enough to drive anyone mad. 

“For god sake, he was bought in by an ambulance no more than 20 minuite ago?! How can you not know where he is, that’s your job isn’t it!?” Finn slammed his fists down on the enquiry desk as an old miserable nurse stood staring at him. 

“As I told your… “ the matron cleared her throat “Partner, we don’t have anyone here under the name Master Dominik Mysterio?” 

“Christ, Gutierrez! Not Mysterio… idiota!” Priest shook his head before turning back to a recognisable figure walking towards them from the hallway. 

“DOM!” Priest shouted as he grabbed Finn by the shoulder and they both rushed over as Damien grabbed the boy and pulling him into a tight embrace. 

“Ow…” Dom whimpered as Finn lept into the hug. 

“What the hell happened love!?” Finn pulled back grabbing Dom’s face, checking him over for any sign of injury or illness. 

Dom shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, “I uhh, I” but he was interrupted by a doctor that was walking up behind him. 

“Panic attack, as I was trying to explain to you Mr. Guiterrez before you demanded to leave ” the doctor  looked up at the towering figure of Damien and smiled at the Irish man clinging onto the hand of his patient. 

“Are you two his carers?” The doctor questioned 

“Something like that…” Damien replied as Finn smirked. 

“OI!” Dom said still rubbing the back of his head. 

“Paramedics said that the hotel staff had found him unconscious in a hotel room, we believe he has hit his head as he had some concussion symptoms. But he’s refusing treatment, says he has somewhere he needs to be?” The doctor questioned them. 

Finn’s phone pinged and pulling it out from his pocket he looked down to a message from Rhea. 

“Not somewhere, were trying to find someone! And I’m fine, I don’t need looking after” Dom tried to explain. 

“Dom, shh. Listen to the doctor” Damien interjected before Finn tapped him on the shoulder showing him the message from Rhea. 

“What is it?” Dom asked trying to peer over Damien’s shoulder, quickly realising he wasn’t exactly tall enough.  

“We have to go, Doc we take full responsibility for him, Scouts honour!” Finn stated and took Dom’s hand rushing out the door, Damien followed hastily behind. 

“You need to….” The doctor called after them, but it was too late.

“Sign the discharge forms.” He sighed and put the clipboard down on the enquiry desk, raising an eyebrow at the nurse who had been dealing with Finn’s outburst. 

“Men…” She stated and turning on her heels she walked off in a huff. 

----------------------------------

A familiar voice bought me back to reality, those all to recognisable tears I had only heard once before. They sounded so broken, so heartfelt. It was Rhea. Holding me tightly on the steps of the city library where I had sought out the silent solitude it had always offered. If you cannot speak in the library, then no one could ask me what was wrong. 

I had only ever heard her cry with such emotion once, losing her nonna had caused such a devastating blow to her and that pain never truly leaves you. The one time we as humans wished we could turn off that emotional switch and feel nothing at all. 

I wish I could have felt nothing in that moment, because how I did feel was not fair to her. It wasn’t fair to any of them. It wasn’t fair to me, but I couldn’t hide that truth. it was how I felt. 

I resented her. I hated her. Why was she here. Why had she found me. Why did I have to feel this way. 

Throwing myself up and out of her arms I lept into the dark street and stared back at the bewildered face of the woman I had grown to devote myself to. I couldn’t see a way to live my life without her, without any of them. My heart would never truly love anyone again the way the love for them I had, fed into my soul. I depended on them for my survival. 

“Bunny please...” Rhea lept to her feet standing just a few feet from me in the road, reaching out her arm, hand outstretched. Her voice breaking from the cold and fear as she went to speak again but I interrupted her. It was as if something inside of me set off the dynamite that tore down the walls I had built up for so long and every last piece of vulnerability drowned the streets around us, refilling the puddles that had saturated the roads. 

“NO! STOP! Please Rhea! No, shit no! Why!? Why are you here! Why can’t you understand!? CHRIST. WHY DOESN’T ANYONE UNDERSTAND!” I screamed and ran my hands over my face and through my hair clawing at my neck. I could barely breath, my lungs were on fire, my chest so tight. My entire body was soaked to the bone and frozen. Lips chapped and sense of reality fading fast.  The anxiety inside me was fuelling a fire that was quickly spreading out of control. 

“I want to…” Rhea tried to reason with me, her voice soft, fragile. 

“I want to understand, Y/N please, just, talk to me. We can work this out, you and me. Just us… Look…” She turned her head signalling the space around us. 

“It’s just you and me. It’s okay…” She spoke gently taking a step towards me. 

That Panic set in. 

“Don’t you fucking come near me, don’t you… don’t you fucking come near me!” I screamed. She didn’t deserve this; she had shown me nothing but love. Yet I had no control over it anymore. Like a tornado destroying everything in its path, this storm was out for blood. 

“CHRIST, what is wrong with me! What is wrong with this world, what is wrong with this… this fucking, this bullshit! Everyone on it, no one understands. It’s like a prison… I feel, I feel like. Like I can’t breathe!” I grasped at my chest backing further away from her. As if a thousands rubber bands wrapped around my lungs, I was suffocating.  

“Talk to me bunny, just talk to me. Whatever it is, we can fix it?” Rhea begged, she tried to reason with me. 

I stared at her blankly. I knew this was going to hurt. 

Fuck it. 

“It’s you.” I said. 

Cold. 

Blunt. 

To the point. 

“It’s all of you.” My words were empty. As empty as I felt. 

Rhea had nothing, no words. Nothing to say, no way of understanding why it was like this. 

I had broken down, I couldn’t hold back the heart ache, the tears, none of it. I was an empty shell of myself, and every emotion poured out with every word. 

“Every day. Every day I wake up, every day I wake up and I have to live. I live my life and then I go to sleep. Every day I am surrounded by the love you all give; I am surrounded by the happiness and the joy and the compassion that is gifted in the promise and security of the devotion we have for each other. The smiling faces of people passing by on their way to their boring jobs, their boring families, to pay their shitty boring rent. I stand here now knowing all this, knowing I am privileged to be living a life filled with more love in every second of every day than most people see in a lifetime.” I fell to my knees, unable to bear the weight of the world on my shoulders anymore. 

“So why is it that every day when I open my eyes, when I look in the mirror, when that second of silence between a conversation hits, the first thought in my head, is how long is left?” I gritted my teeth, pouring out my heart to the world. 

“Is it wrong to hate you, to resent you all so much. I feel such spite. I despise the love you all have for me because selfishly, I know, I know I can’t stop. I can’t kill myself. I can’t kill myself because that wouldn’t be fair. Not to you, not to the boys, not to my family or friends. The most important decision of my life and I don’t even get to make it” I looked up at Rhea with blood shot eyes. 

“I don’t want to be unhappy anymore. I don’t want to be here, but I don��t have a reason to feel this way, and I don’t know why I do.” 

Rhea threw herself to the floor around me and pulled me in tightly, I felt the bones in my back click and my chest restricted as her grasp tightened around me to the risk of never being able to let go. 

No matter what now, she was never letting go. 

I didn’t fight her anymore. Id given up fighting it. 

Instead, I shielded myself in her embrace. Kissing the top of my head Rhea rested her chin on me, despite both being frozen I could feel her warmth breaking through. 

“Y/N...” Rhea gently spoke looking deep into my eyes. 

“That’s called being Human. And its shit. Its fucking shit, it’s unfair and its cruel. That’s why you don’t hide this away. You don’t try and fight a war all by yourself.  You are more loved than you will ever know bunny! And whether you want it or not, its there. It will always be there, and we will always be here.” 

Rhea took her hands around my face and pulled me in, so our foreheads connected. 

“Were in this together, you and me. All of us. The boys too. Remember bunny, It’s not for forever. It’s just for now.” 

As if something clicked, something unexplainable. Something spiritual in the moment, the world disappeared from around us, every element meant nothing except the two of us. Right there, the most important moment for us in all of time and space. 

“You just keep going, for just one more minuite.” Rhea whispered under her breath. 

For a moment it felt like time stood still, and the world had fallen silent in the honest truths that had been spoken. 

Not for long though, for the sound of silence was broken by screeching tyres. Headlights illuminated our silhouettes and as if from out of nowhere a large rental truck slammed its brakes on coming to a stop. 

The car door flew open and out fell Finn, scrambling to his feet he stood up with one hand on the door as his eyes widened, mixed with relief and with fear. His eyes were bloodshot, red and exhausted. 

“Y/N?” he sounded shocked. 

Rhea turned her head to face him and smile, but that relief on her face quickly changed to confusion. 

“Finn? Where’s Damien? Where’s Dom?” 

He didn’t answer her. Standing in silence as if he didn’t know how to respond to a question he very well knew the answer to. 

I turned my head to face him, looking around for two people who weren’t there. 

“Finn?” I looked up at him, trying to hide the worry in my eyes. 

Letting out a gentle sigh Finn smiled and turned his back around as the back passenger door to the truck opened slowly as Damien stepped out, gently removing a sleeping Dominik from his lap and resting the boy against the car seat. He leant against the car door smiling at the two of us sitting in the middle of the road. 

Rhea turned her head to face me and pulling my viewpoint to hers she looked deep into my eyes. 

“Come on Bunny, Let’s go home”.

“Home?” I questioned her.  

“Home.” She smiled, “We are going home.” 

[aemondsquill]

In Honor's Name

Aemond Targaryen × Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Your new husband, Prince Aemond Targaryen, is truly an enigma. While he is cold and dismissive, he also proves to be quite the formidable protector of his lady wife

A/N: reader is from an unspecified House and has no physical descriptions

Warnings: Aemond's rizz is atrocious, violence, toxic relationship, hurt/comfort, Aemond IS a WIFE GUY, slight angst, floooof, implications of smut

Aemond Targaryen was not known for wearing his heart on his sleeve; actually it was quite the contrary, much to the dismay of his brand new wife. Attempting any form of conversation with the man was like yanking nails. He only gave one word answers or hum in response.

However, while he was not gifted in the arts of wooing his wife with his words, Y/N appreciated just how physically attentive he was. A gentle hand on her lower back when he guided her through the halls of the Keep, his fingers resting on her knee during long dinners, or his presence looming over her shoulder at banquets and feasts. These touches were the only indication that he even tolerated her.

----

Y/N was in no mood for the festivities laid out before her. Aegon decided to throw another feast for whichever unknown Lord's nameday or birth of an heir or perhaps he was just bored. Aemond, as always, was seated next to her. If he had not helped Y/N into her own seat, she would not even had known that he was there. The silence between them seemed to be even more stifling than the obnoxious noises of merriment that echoed through the great hall.

Y/N glared at the couples dancing, envious that they seemed to be enjoying themselves. She learned the hard way that Aemond does not dance. A sharp 'no' from his lips when she invited him to dance on their wedding day was enough to discourage her from ever asking again.

'How lucky am I to be married to such a bland brooding man?' She thought scornfully. He was confusing with his gentle touches, but harsh words and Y/N was done trying to figure him out. She would only do her duty: be a loyal wife and produce an heir or two. It wasn't much of a life, but there were worse ways to live.

Y/N reached for her cup, full of a dark Dornish red, and drank it greedily. The wine was delightfully bitter on her tongue.

Soon enough, a buzz flowed through her veins like warmed honey and made her brain slightly heavy. Y/N's spirits were lifted as the music swelled and the laughter all around her felt contagious.

With a new surge of confidence, Y/N turned to her ever-stoic husband. He eyed her curiously at her sudden movement.

"I supposed I shan't ask you for a dance, Lord husband, allow me to take my leave so I may find a willing partner." Without waiting for a response, Y/N shot out of her seat and grasped her velvety skirts and stalked towards Tyland Lannister.

Aemond's mouth gaped, slightly resembling a fish plucked out of the water. He could only watch helplessly as his wife, giggling and eyes shining, began an elegant waltz with the Lannister.

His knuckles turned white as he gripped his fork tightly, jealousy boiling in his chest at the site of Tyland gripping his wife's waist and twirling her about.

Perhaps Aemond deserved to watch his wife fall for another. He knew he had not been a doting husband, but at least he wasn't cruel. He just felt uncomfortable expressing his affection for his Y/N!

Aemond would not accept the consequences of his own actions. She was his and everyone in the Keep would know it, especially that slimy cunt Tyland.

His anger was only spurred on when he watched the Lannister grip Y/N's arm tightly and whisper a salacious secret into her ear. Her face contorted in offense, causing Aemond to nearly leap over the table in front of him.

In a split second, Aemond was nose to nose with blond Lannister.

"I will fucking tear your eyes out of your head and force them down your throat if you so much as glance at my wife again." Even Y/N felt the chill of fear tingle her spine at Aemond's threat. Tyland only smirked at the brutal confrontation. Copious amounts of wine and ale only made Tyland more bold. And foolish.

Aemond placed his hand on the small of her back, more forcefully than usual.

"Come, wife, allow me to escort you to your chambers."

"Perhaps if you weren't such a frigid cunt maybe your wife wouldn't seek company elsewhere. Leave her to me and trust she will be taken care of."

Y/N felt the surge of humiliation warm her cheeks at Tyland's horrific words. The anger rolled off Aemond's shoulders in heavy waves as Tyland tugged Y/N back into his chest and continued his vicious tirade.

"Unhand my wife and I shall reward you with a swift death."

"I heard your wife has the sweetest cunt in Westeros", his nose grazed along her neck, inhaling her scent. "I wish to taste her."

A vile glint flashed across Aemond's violet eye and in an instant he yanked Y/N out of Tyland's arms, tossing her carelessly as he pursued the Lannister further.

Y/N yelped as she stumbled to the stony floor. She could only watch in horror as her husband's hands wrapped around Tyland's throat so hard that the veins bulged.

"I am the only one who will taste my wife's cunt."

Tyland's face turned red, then blue, then an ugly shade of purple as Aemond's hands slowly squeezed the life out of him. Tyland feebly attempted to grip Aemond's arms, chest, anything he could get his hands on as he crumpled to the floor.

"She tastes of the sweetest honey. She will only bear my heirs. She is mine and only mine." Y/N couldn't help the feeling of her cheeks flush at Aemond's obscene flattery.

Aemond did not let up his assault. Instead, the bulging of Lord Lannister's eyes seemed to egg him on to press harder and harder.

Y/N shouted for the nearby guards to stop her husband from killing his House's ally.

It took nearly four men to wretch Aemond away from the scoundrel. Once he stood he shrugged off their hands and immediately stalked towards Y/N. Her eyes widened in fear as she stumbled backwards slightly. Her flinch halted Aemond in his tracks briefly, a pang rattled his chest painfully. His little display of violence and jealousy only scared his beloved wife.

Aemond took a couple more steps, this time with caution so as not to frighten her more before placing his hand on her back.

"Let us retire, little wife." And she allowed him to guide her back to her chambers in silence.

The winding corridors allowed her to replay the scene over and over in her head. Never had she seen Aemond react to anything in such a way. Nor had he spoken this many words to her in the few months they had been married.

They reached the large oak doors of Y/N's chambers and Aemond ushered her inside.

"You should not have done that. You could have killed him."

Aemond regarded her coldly, "I wish I did. I wish everyone in that hall witnessed me killing him." Y/N rolled her eyes at his stubbornness. Aemond approached her and reached for her hand, but she pulled away before speaking sternly at him.

"No. You do not get to touch me after embarrassing your House like that and nearly killing a man!"

"I was defending your honor! Tis my duty as your husband!" He snarled. He reached out and grabbed at her again, this time pulling her into his chest and she squirmed against him.

"Stop resisting me. I wish to hold my wife and I shall do so!"

Never had Aemond been so vocal and obvious about his affection towards her. It threw Y/N into a whirlwind of emotion.

Finally, she stopped fighting against him and met his glare with her own. The two breathed heavily against each other, neither used to such intimate proximity outside of fucking.

"I have been damned by the gods to love you."

Y/N scoffed. "I never knew you could be so romantic. First you nearly kill a man, now you're saying you hate loving me."

Aemond closed his eye and sighed, mentally kicking himself for his fumbled words. His arm tightend around her waist. Y/N was annoyed at the warmth that flooded her chest at the feeling.

"I love you, little wife. So much so, my words seemed to escape me, but it's true. In the short time we've been married I have fallen deeper than I can possibly fathom. It frightens me. Seeing Tyland Lannister put his hands on you drove me to the brink of madness. I would kill a thousand men and their widows if you asked me to."

Y/N's eyes softened at his clumsy declaration. In his own strange and murderous way, he held a great affection for her and Y/N's heart melted at the thought.

She brushed a lock of hair out of his eye, sighing.

"You know you cannot kill every man who speaks to me."

"I know, but I can kill most of them." She chuckled at his attempt at a jest.

Aemond found himself not able to resist any longer. He kissed her soft supple lips with fervor. Y/N moaned softly in delight.

"I have to make good on a promise I made to that Lannister cunt, little wife."

[wongyuseokie]

Practice Makes Perfect | c.s.c, j.w.w & k.m.g

Summary: Mingyu needed some help sexually. So his Hyungs decided to ask a simple favour of you, and who are you to say no to them? Besides, who could deny them pleasure? ☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕smut | ♥︎ completed Word Count:  2669 words 

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Female Reader | Female Reader x Jeon Wonwoo | Female Reader x Kim Mingyu 

Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Smut, Fluff, PWP. Content Warnings: None. It’s a PWP, and with my bias line. Mingyu is made to be a lot shyer and a little less experienced here. It’s the only way I can humble a man that fine. Mingyu needs some help, I guess? (but does he really?). Mentions of alcohol.  

Smut Warnings: Dom! Cheol, Subish!Gyu, Dom Wonwoo! Unprotected sex (pls don’t do this irl). Overstimulation, double penetration, breast & nipple play. Oral (m & f receiving), face riding, squirting. Mentions of public sex. Pet names (good boy, baby boy, pretty girl), praise kink. Pussy slapping. Cum play. Biting, it’s mild. Authors Note 1: Thank you so so much to @here4btsfics & @junkissed-replies for beta'ing this for me! Thank you also to @seungkwansphd for reading and then telling me I should be in horny jail. ILY bby. Authors Note 2: Also happy birthday to Wonwoo, the bestest boy. To celebrate him, let's thirst over a fine-ass man and his handsome friends.

Authors Note 3: tagging my lovely @the-boy-meets-evil because it's her birthday month, and I gotta make her suffer too. Also tagging my lovely Zeta @multi-kpop-fanfics because we suffer the Wonwoo rot today (every day). Tagging my lovely @seokgyuu too. Cross Posted to AO3 © wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.

“Seriously? Hyung, I mean it; how do I make her cum with my mouth?” Seungcheol kept laughing at Mingyu. 

“Come on, Hyung; he’s trying to learn,” Wonwoo said with a smile. 

Seungcheol stopped laughing and looked at them.

“Okay, fine, Mingyu. Do you think I have a doll or something you would practice on?” Mingyu looked down. 

“Besides, it wouldn’t help. Each woman is different. No woman’s clit is at the same location as the others.” Mingyu sighed.

“I know. I just, since my ex, I haven’t been able to, like, I want to make a girl come undone because of my tongue and then fuck her,” Mingyu blurted out. 

“Mingyu, I’m sure you’ll find someone,” Wonwoo comforted. 

“Anyways, shall we head to Y/N’s house? I’m sure we’re already late?” Seungcheol asked, and the other boys nodded. 

You were on your second glass of wine, waiting for the boys to show up. It was movie night, and they had kept you waiting for the past hour and a half, and you were getting antsy. 

You decided to pour a glass of wine, which turned into two, and you were sipping when you heard your doorbell ring. You opened it to find your three best friends all looking extra apologetic. 

You all had met because Wonwoo had somehow managed to splash water on you at a bar. Seungcheol, the charmer, helped you get some tissues, and Mingyu was there, while he was shy at first, but he soon became your fellow cuddle buddy. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry. Mingyu over here wouldn’t shut up, so we got delayed.” Mingyu glared at Seungcheol.

“Hyung,” he warned, and Seungcheol smiled.

“I won’t tell her. Chill,” you narrowed your eyes at Seungcheol’s words. 

“What were these three up to?” You thought. 

You smiled at Seungcheol, never being able to get annoyed at any one of them entirely. 

“It’s okay, come on, help me in the kitchen. Wonwoo, Mingyu, get settled, make yourselves at home and pick a movie,” you said, inviting them in, and they followed you into the apartment while Seungcheol followed you to the kitchen. 

Moments like these, you were thankful for having a door that led to your kitchen because the minute you had shut the door behind you, Seungcheol had you pushed against a counter and his lips finding yours. 

“I’m sorry we’re late, Y/N,” Seungcheol apologised, mumbling the words against your lips. 

You and Seungcheol met at a bar, mainly because Mingyu accidentally spilt a drink on you, and Seungcheol took you to the bathroom to help you clean up, and one thing led to another, and somehow you ended up fucking Seungcheol in a random bathroom bar. 

It was a good arrangement. You both had amazing sex and no strings. 

“What was Mingyu asking about anyway?” You asked, now grabbing glasses and bottles of wine from the counter. 

Seungcheol bit his lip, “how to eat a girl out.” 

“Didn’t he have a girlfriend?” “He did, but I think he wants it for a one-night stand or hookups so he can, and I quote, ‘make her cum on my tongue before I fuck her,” Seungcheol elaborated, and you smiled at his words. You couldn’t help but picture it; Mingyu was eager, and willing to learn. 

“Y/N, I know that fucking smile.” 

You smirked, “what if I give him a lesson?” 

Seungcheol  grinned, “can I watch?” 

You and Seungcheol emerged from the kitchen to find Wonwoo and Mingyu sitting on your sofa. Mingyu had removed his leather jacket, leaving him with a sleeveless top showing off his muscles. 

Wonwoo, on the other hand, was on his phone, and his tight black shirt was doing nothing to hide how much he had been working out in the last few months. 

“What movie did you pick?” you asked. “We couldn’t pick one, so we just have music chilling in the background. Let’s make it a wine night,” Wonwoo replied.

You sat on the couch, and Seungcheol pulled you to his side.  

“Mingyu, how’s single life?” You asked innocently, and you heard Seungcheol suppress a laugh as he caught onto your motive. 

“Uh, good, you know. Nothing terrible.”

“Easier to get casual sex, right?” You asked innocently, and Mingyu stilled. 

“Hyung, what the hell did you say to her?” Mingyu asked, glaring at Seungcheol. 

You blinked as you set your glass down, walked over to Mingyu and stood before him. You sat down on his lap, throwing your legs around his waist. 

“Mingyu, look at me,” you said, and he did just that. 

“Good boy.” Mingyu felt your praise shoot straight to his cock. 

“You wanted to learn how to eat a girl out?” You asked, and Mingyu started turning red. 

“Do you want me to teach you?” You continued to ask. 

“Or?” Seungcheol interrupted. 

“Do you want your Hyung to show you?” Mingyu bit his lip at Seungcheol’s words while Wonwoo, who was enjoying this all too much, smirked.

“Show him, Hyung. He’s a visual learner anyway,” Wonwoo chimed in, and you nodded. Mingyu was still frozen. At the same time, Seungcheol sat on the floor in front of you. You crawled off Mingyu’s lap and found a space between him and Wonwoo. 

“Kiss me, pretty girl,” Seungcheol instructed, and you did as he asked, placing your lips on Seungcheol’s as he moved his lips with yours. He pulled your lower lip between his as he kept kissing you, his tongue slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss. 

Your moans filled the room, along with the music. Seungcheol’s hands went to your shirt, pulling it off, revealing a sheer bra that left little to the imagination, while his hands found your shorts. He pulled your shorts and underwear off together. 

Wonwoo, who was already hard, found the clasp of your bra and undid it, helping you out of the material. He lifted one leg onto his thighs. 

“Mingyu, take her other leg,” Wonwoo said as Mingyu shakily moved his hand to your thighs, lifting over his muscular legs. You felt so exposed, and Seungcheol’s hot breath on your cunt did not help.

Wonwoo’s hand found a way to your breast. He started massaging and squeezing the soft tissue, making you moan as he traced circles around your hardened nipples. Mingyu was practically catatonic until Seungcheol told him to move. 

“Mingyu. You’ll turn into a statue at this rate. Kiss Y/N.” Seungcheol said as he started stripping himself down to his underwear; you turned your head to face Mingyu, who was turning into a lovely shade of fuchsia.

“Baby boy, kiss me,” you said, and you felt Mingyu practically launch himself at you. His lips found yours, and he kissed you. While Seungcheol was a more passionate kisser, Mingyu was more playful. 

His tongue kept running along your bottom lip; he would slip his tongue in now and then and deepen the kiss. Mingyu would gently tug at your bottom lip with his teeth, making you moan and writhe. 

Mingyu pulled away to trail kisses down your neck. He bit and sucked his way to your collarbone, ensuring that he ran his tongue over each of his love bites, soothing the area. 

You moaned as he continued and tugged his hair, making him look at you. 

“Baby boy, you’re so fucking good at that,” you praised, making Mingyu smirk. His lips were swollen, and his eyes glazed over with lust. 

A slap to your clit brought your attention back to the room and Seungcheol ’s carnal gaze. 

“Mingyu, watch what I do. Watch how I make her cum with just my mouth.” You squirmed at Seungcheol’s words, desperate to feel his lips on your cunt. 

You would never let Seungcheol know how good he was at eating you out. He already had a massive ego when it came to his skills in bed, and you didn’t want to inflate it further. 

“Mingyu, eyes on her cunt,” Seungcheol instructed, and Mingyu nodded, his hand massaging your breast, mirroring Wonwoo’s actions. Seungcheol leaned forward and ran his tongue from your entrance to your clit. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, you almost hated how easily Seungcheol made you a mess, but at the same time, you weren’t exactly complaining. You moved your hands down to Wonwoo’s trousers while the other moved to Mingyu’s. Both men groaned as you palmed their erections. 

Seungcheol ran his tongue up and down your folds until he finally fixed his mouth on your clit. 

“Fuck, Cheol,” you whimpered, feeling him smirk against your pussy. 

Mingyu’s gaze never once left your cunt. He observed as his Hyung lapped at your cunt. He noticed what parts of your cunt, when touched, made you moan and whimper. 

Seungcheol wrapped his lips around your cunt and started to suck, making you buck your face against his mouth. Seungcheol moved his mouth away from your cunt to speak. 

“Wonwoo, take her in your lap and hold her tight,” Seungcheol instructed, and Wonwoo did as he was told. 

You were sat in Wonwoo’s lap between his thighs, your lower back pressing against his hard length. 

Wonwoo’s muscular arms wrapped tight around your waist, immobilising you as Seungcheol  dove back in. 

Seungcheol resumed his actions as his mouth found your clit again, he kept sucking, and you kept squirming, making Wonwoo moan each time you moved against his cock. 

Seungcheol licked and flicked your clit until you whimpered and came on his tongue, and Seungcheol lapped at your entrance, licking your release. 

Seungcheol smirked as he stood up. He pulled off his briefs and sat down in between the two men.

“Wonwoo put her on me,” Seungcheol instructed, and Wonwoo smirked and lifted you and lowered you down onto Seungcheol’s cock.

“Y/N, hands around my neck, pretty girl,” Seungcheol commanded, and you nodded and wrapped your hands around Seungcheol’s neck as he started thrusting his hips upwards, making you moan and fall forward. 

“So fucking tight,” Seungcheol said as he groaned.

“Mingyu, rub her clit.” Mingyu nodded as his hand moved to your cunt. He gently moved his fingers along your cunt and stopped when he heard you gasp. 

“There?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded. 

Mingyu wasted no time rubbing your clit. His fingers moved vigorously, and you were cumming in practically no time.

Seungcheol's groans got louder as you came around his cock. He hissed and pounded into you as you moaned and keened in oversensitivity. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” Seungcheol groaned, thrusting a few more times and stilled when he came inside you. Seungcheol slowly pulled out of you.

 “Keep my cum inside you,” Seungcheol instructed. 

Seungcheol carried you gently and laid you down on the other end of the sofa.

“Gyu, you wanted to eat a girl out? Go on, make Y/N cum,” Seungcheol instructed lazily. 

Mingyu bit his lip to suppress a moan. You moaned when you heard his instruction and stayed still, waiting for Mingyu’s mouth. He got so hard at the thought of being able to lick your pussy clean of Seungcheol’s cum. 

“Mingyu, take your clothes off,” you mumbled as he approached you. You almost laughed at the speed with which he undressed but then had to bite back a moan when you saw his body. 

Mingyu crawled and laid down between your legs. You could feel his breath on your cunt as he moaned and dove straight in. He mirrored Seungcheol’s actions; however, Mingyu was playful. He would alternate between his tongue and lips. 

Mingyu moved his mouth away from your cunt, and pulled you up on the sofa. Your hands tugged at his hair.

“More, Mingyu,” you whispered, and he laid down and pointed to his face. 

“Ride my face, Y/N,” Mingyu asked breathlessly, and you nodded as you straddled his face, his hands wrapped around your thighs, inching you upwards so he could push his tongue inside your cunt. 

You nearly fell forward at the welcome intrusion. Mingyu moaned when he tasted Seungcheol’s cum inside you as he moved his tongue and licked you. 

“Do you want more, pretty baby?” You nodded. You heard Seungcheol’s voice from behind you. 

You found Wonwoo standing at Mingyu’s head, his cock hard and in his hand. You adjusted yourself and wrapped your lips around his.

“Fuck, can I fuck your throat?” Wonwoo asked, moaning, and you simply hummed in approval against Wonwoo’s cock, the vibrations making him buck his length in your mouth. 

Wonwoo started by wrapping your hair in a ponytail and moving his hips in and out of your mouth. You let Wonwoo fuck your throat, and Mingyu kept licking you. You whimpered as you started to feel your orgasm wash over you. 

You came around Mingyu’s tongue, whimpering, but Mingyu’s grip on your thighs made it impossible for you to move. He continued licking you while you moaned while deep throating Wonwoo. 

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m going to cum,” Wonwoo growled, and you hummed, letting him know he could. Wonwoo thrust a few more times until he stilled and spilled his hot cum down your throat. 

You moaned as you swallowed him. Wonwoo smirked devilishly. He was far from being done with you, but you didn’t have to know that just yet. 

Mingyu kept lapping at your cunt, until you shook your vision, fading as you rode your orgasm out on his face. You whimpered as you felt a strong pair of arms pull you off him and hold you tightly. 

“Mingyu, you said you didn’t know how to eat a girl out, and you made this one squirt with your tongue,” Seungcheol said, cocking his brow at him. Mingyu grinned as he licked his lips. 

“I watched you, and she liked it,” Mingyu mumbled shyly, and you noticed how hard Mingyu was, and you motioned for him to come forward.

“Nope!” You heard Seungcheol say. 

“Cheol, fuck, I need to fuck him,” you protested, and Seungcheol grinned. 

“Oh, you will. Just you won’t fuck him alone. Mingyu, lie down again,” Seungcheol instructed, and  Mingyu nodded and retook his position. 

“Y/N, take him inside you,” Seungcheol instructed, and you practically crawled over and sank yourself on his length, hissing at how good he felt inside you. You felt a hand slap your ass, and you turned around to notice Wonwoo, who pushed you down so that you were lying on top of Mingyu. 

You felt Wonwoo push his cock inside your cunt, and your mind went blank as he sheathed himself further and further inside you. Both men were hissing at the tight fit while you just let out whimpers. 

Once Wonwoo was entirely inside you, he started moving his hips and tapped Mingyu’s thighs to do the same. You kept scratching Mingyu’s chest, trying to hold on as both men were fucking you. Neither one of them would last long in such a tight fight. 

Hisses and moans filled the room as the three of you were ecstatic. Seungcheol was hard and stroking himself at the sight. 

You felt Wonwoo cum inside you first, biting down on your shoulder as he did and pulled himself out, making you and Mingyu hiss. Mingyu pounded into your cunt as he came inside you shortly after. 

You were panting, trying to catch your breath as Mingyu pulled out of you. You didn’t realise when, but he had you flipped and on the sofa, and his lips on your cunt. 

You screamed at the touch, you were so swollen and sensitive, but Mingyu pushed his tongue inside you, moaning as he tasted your cum, mixed with his and Wonwoo’s. 

He licked you until you came again. He moved away from your cunt to your lips, pulling you in for a kiss. 

“Fuck.” He moaned as he took a seat next to you. 

“Okay, it’s my turn to ravage her. You two, make sure you hydrate,” Seungcheol teased, smirking as he pulled you off the couch and threw you over his broad shoulders, slapping your ass as he carried you to your bedroom.