#but fan still will not admit to having a feeling | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

koyagifs · 15 hours ago

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𝓹.𝓼 𝓲 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾

pairing: san x reader au: idol | best friends to lovers | genre: fluff word count: 3.4 k synopsis: throughout the years you and san sent letters to each other even with his busy lifestyle as an idol. The love letters he never knew until you handed him the last one in person. warning(s): fluff, sweet tooth rotting - literally will get cavities.

October 24, 2018

dear sannie, you've done it!! you debuted!! i couldn't have be a much prouder friend. You looked amazing on stage and in your music videos. Seeing you live your dream brings me much joy. College just started for me and im already nervous to not have you here beside me. You won't forget me right?

love, yn

San smiled at the letter, his heart swelling with warmth. He could almost hear your voice as he read it, the familiar way you always cheered him on, even from afar. Around him, his members noticed the soft expression on his face and couldn’t resist teasing him.

"What’s got you all mushy, San?" Wooyoung smirked, leaning over to peek at the letter.

San quickly folded it, keeping it close to his chest. "Just an old letter from a friend," he said, but the fondness in his tone gave him away.

"A friend, huh?" Yunho chimed in, raising an eyebrow. "You’ve been smiling at that thing for ten minutes. Must be a pretty special friend."

"She is," San admitted softly, his gaze lingering on the folded paper.

The teasing continued, but San didn’t mind. To him, that letter was more than just words on a page—it was a reminder of you, the person who had always believed in him, no matter how far apart you were. And in that moment, he felt closer to you than ever.

January 31, 2021

Dear Sannie, Congratulations on your first Bonsang! my roommate and i watched it, she's a huge fan by the way. I couldn't help but cry ha - i can already hear you call me a big baby. I can't help it. You and your members deserved the win and so much more. I hope you're doing well. Your parents had invited me over for spring break saying you'll be there. I hope i get to see you there ~

love, yn

San felt guilt creep on him when he read your letter. He had told his parents that he would try to make it for break but unknowningly had such a busy schedule (more like year) .

Spring break had come and gone, and he hadn't been able to make it home like he had promised. Promotions, rehearsals, and countless other commitments had eaten up his time. His parents had told him you were looking forward to seeing him, but it hurt him to know he had let you down, even though you likely understood.

He thought back to the letter you had sent him—your words still fresh in his mind. Your gentle, supportive tone had made him feel even worse. He knew you weren’t upset or angry, but that didn’t stop the guilt from gnawing at him. Your understanding was something he cherished, but it also made him feel even more responsible for not being able to fulfill his promise.

July 9, 2021

Dear Sannie, i saw your company confirm that you have covid. I hope you're well and getting plenty of rest. I'm worried about you, thankfully your mom is very assuring. It's been so long since we last seen each other and i think im officially have choi san withdrawals. haha only took like 4 years to have withdrawals from your annoying ass. in all seriousness, i truly do miss you san. i graduate soon, you'll be there right?

love, yn

San’s heart sank as he read your letter. The warmth of your words mixed with the concern you expressed about his health made him feel both comforted and guilty. He knew you must’ve been worried when the news of his diagnosis broke, and the last thing he wanted was to cause you any additional stress. He had been keeping a low profile, resting as much as he could, but your message reminded him of how much he missed you and how badly he wanted to be there for you.

He leaned back on his bed, sighing softly. It had been too long, and your humor—your way of bringing light to everything—was something he dearly missed. He smiled at the thought of your "Choi San withdrawals" comment, shaking his head at how much you loved to tease him. Even now, you were still able to make him laugh, even when he was feeling miserable.

July 6,2024

Your fingers were clenched around the straps of your tote bag, the weight of the letters inside feeling oddly heavy, despite being just paper. The photocard of San and Sandeoki tucked inside the bag was a small comfort, but the true contents were the letters you had written to him over the years—letters you never had the courage to send.

You had written them during moments of missing him, of wondering when you'd see him again, or just to express things you never got to say in person. Some were long, filled with stories and updates, others short and simple. But all of them were filled with love, concern, and a longing that had never truly gone away, no matter how much time passed.

Today, you decided, would be the day to let him read them. Maybe it was the fact that you had so much PTO saved up, or maybe it was just the need to reconnect after all this time. But either way, you were determined to surprise him.

You couldn’t believe it. You were in the front row, the best seat you could ever have hoped for, and the adrenaline was almost too much to handle. The energy from the crowd was contagious, buzzing through the air like electricity. The excitement around you was palpable, fans chattering and eagerly looking for their favorite idols. You felt like you were in a dream, surrounded by the cheers and anticipation.

And then, it happened.

The moment you’d been waiting for was finally here. You could feel the air in the room shift as the members made their way down the stage, waving and smiling at everyone, their energy infecting the crowd. The cheers grew louder, but amidst it all, your heart was beating so fast you thought it might explode. The closer they got, the more real the situation felt—and the more nervous you became.

Your row was the first to head up for their interaction, and now you found yourself standing up, unsure if your legs would support you. You clutched your hands together, trying to calm your nerves, but your heart was thudding in your chest. You had prepared yourself for this moment, but now that it was here, everything felt like a blur.

As you walked towards them, your gaze instinctively found him—San. He was closer now, his smile warm and genuine as he interacted with the fans ahead of you. You could hardly believe it. The boy who had been such a big part of your life, now right in front of you. Your mind was racing, and everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The cheering around you, the music playing softly in the background—it all faded as you focused solely on him.

Mingi’s playful tone made you laugh, and your nerves eased a little as you settled into the moment. You had always enjoyed Mingi’s energy, his teasing and carefree nature making interactions like this feel lighthearted. As he signed your album, his eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Yn, you said... hm..." he hummed thoughtfully, looking up at you. "Tell San that he's a lucky guy~" he continued with a wink, his teasing tone drawing out a laugh from you.

You couldn’t help but smile, a small blush creeping up your cheeks at his comment.

he playful banter made the nervous energy you had carried with you melt away, replaced by the warmth of his friendly presence.

Mingi handed your album back to you, his signature neatly added to the cover, before squeezing your hand lightly. "I’m glad you’re here, Yn. It’s been too long. Let’s make sure you get to see San properly later. He’s been talking about you a lot lately, actually."

Your heart skipped at his words, a mix of curiosity and excitement stirring within you. Mingi’s smile softened for a moment before he winked again, clearly enjoying the way he was getting to you.

"Don’t keep him waiting, hm?" he added teasingly.

Hongjoong’s eyes widened the moment he saw you, and the surprise was written all over his face. He stopped mid-signature, staring at you for a moment as if trying to process what was happening. It was clear that he recognized you, and that realization made the moment feel even more surreal.

"So, you're the long lost bestie, hm?" Hongjoong teased, a playful smirk forming on his lips. His tone was light, but there was a warmth in his eyes, like he was genuinely happy to see you again.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction, the familiarity of his teasing making you feel right at home. "You can say that," you replied with a grin, shaking your head at how easily he had caught onto the situation. You hadn’t expected him to recognize you so quickly, but Hongjoong was always the type to notice the little details.

His eyes softened as he leaned forward slightly, clearly amused but also curious. "San’s been talking about you a lot, you know," he added with a wink, almost as if it was a secret he was letting slip.

Hongjoong’s smile widened at your words, and there was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he waved a staff member over. "I’m sure it’s all good things," he said with a wink, clearly enjoying the playful dynamic between the two of you. His attention shifted momentarily as he muttered something to the staff member, gesturing toward you.

You couldn’t help but feel a little curious, but you smiled at Hongjoong’s antics, knowing it was all in good fun. "It’s really nice to meet you too, Hongjoong oppa," you said, giving him a bright smile before starting to move down the line.

As you moved toward San, your heart raced even faster, the excitement mixing with a fresh wave of nerves. It had been years since you last saw him, and now, here you were—standing right in front of him again. It felt surreal, as if time had frozen for a moment, and you were about to close the distance that had stretched between the two of you.

San’s eyes met yours, and there was a flicker of recognition before his lips curled into that familiar, warm smile that made your heart skip a beat. You could see the slight surprise in his eyes, followed by a softness that only he could give you.

He took your album gently, his fingers brushing against yours as he began to sign it. The way he looked at you, his focus entirely on you, made everything feel more personal than you ever expected. His smile deepened, almost like he was processing the moment, and you could feel the weight of all those years apart—yet somehow, it felt like no time had passed at all.

"Yn…" San said your name softly, almost as if he was savoring it, and the way his voice carried your name sent a rush of warmth through you. "I didn’t expect to see you here."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, trying to ease the nerves that had gripped you. "I didn’t expect to be here either," you replied, your voice quieter than you intended, but filled with the same affection that had always been there.

San paused for a moment, looking up at you with a tender expression. It was like he wanted to say something more, but the words got caught somewhere between his heart and his lips. Instead, he offered a quiet chuckle, almost as if he was trying to find his footing in this long-awaited moment.

"I’ve missed you," he finally said, his voice low but sincere. The words made your heart flutter, and you couldn't help but smile, your nerves slowly melting away as you soaked in the familiar presence of the person who had been such a big part of your life.

"I’ve missed you too, San," you whispered, feeling the warmth of his words wrap around you. "It’s really good to see you again."

As you handed San the stack of letters, you felt a quiet sense of relief. These were the letters you had never sent, all the thoughts and feelings you had stored over the years—now in his hands, where they belonged. He took them gently, looking up at you with a mixture of surprise and appreciation, his smile widening as he held them close.

Before any staff member could take the letters from him, San playfully shooed them away, his gaze never leaving you. "These are mine now," he said with a soft laugh, his voice warm and full of affection. You could tell he wasn’t going to let them go that easily.

Then, his eyes softened, scanning you as if noticing the smallest details for the first time in a long while. "You look amazing, by the way," he added, his tone sincere and appreciative. The compliment caught you off guard, but it made you smile—there was something about hearing it from him that made it feel even more special.

"Thanks, San," you replied, your heart fluttering a little. "You don’t look too bad yourself," you teased, trying to ease the tension with a playful tone, though the warmth you felt inside was undeniable.

He chuckled, his expression lighting up with amusement. "I’ll take that as a compliment," he said, his eyes sparkling. There was an easy, natural chemistry between the two of you, and it felt as though the years apart had only made this moment even more meaningful.

San’s fingers tightened slightly around the letters, a silent promise that he would read every single one. He met your gaze again, his eyes intense yet gentle. "I’m really glad you’re here, Yn," he said softly. "I missed you more than I realized."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding as a wave of emotion washed over you. The moment felt so intimate, so real, that it was hard to believe everything you had gone through had led to this—this moment with him, right in front of you, ready to pick up where you left off.

You weren't completely shocked when a staff member pulled you aside when you headed to the bathroom. They took you to the back where you see San's manager who looked at you with a smile.

You were a little taken aback, but the manager’s warm smile quickly put you at ease. You nodded, a bit of nervousness still hanging in the air, and bowed respectfully as you replied, “Yes, I’m Yn. It’s really nice to meet you.”

His smile widened even further, the kind of friendly, reassuring smile that made you feel comfortable. “Great!” he said, his voice light and friendly. “Hongjoong wanted to make sure you get to spend the proper time with San after the fan greeting. You don’t have anything planned afterwards, right?”

The question threw you off for a second, but the surprise quickly melted into something more like anticipation. You hadn’t expected this kind of opportunity, and you found yourself almost speechless for a moment.

“No, nothing planned,” you replied quickly, shaking your head. “I don’t have anywhere to be after this.”

The manager’s expression softened, clearly pleased. “Perfect. I’ll make sure San knows. He’ll be happy to see you again, I’m sure.”

You could barely contain the butterflies in your stomach as you processed what he had said. You were being given a chance to spend some actual time with San after the fan greeting—something you never thought would happen. It felt like the universe had suddenly conspired to bring everything full circle.

San's excitement was palpable as he made his way backstage, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by an eager energy. He had been looking forward to spending time with you since the moment he saw you during the fan greeting, and now that it was finally happening, his anticipation was nearly overwhelming.

As he hurried through the corridors, he spotted a seat near where the members had been resting—empty. His heart skipped a beat, and he immediately knew you must be somewhere nearby. His footsteps quickened, a smile tugging at his lips as he made his way toward the back.

He spotted the manager first, and without missing a beat, San called out, “Where is she?”

The manager’s face lit up at the sight of San, clearly enjoying the interaction. “She’s just down the hall, waiting for you.”

San’s grin grew even wider, and he didn’t waste a second. He rushed down the hallway, the anticipation rising with every step, until he finally rounded the corner and saw you. There you were, standing by the door, looking just as excited and nervous as he felt. Your presence made everything feel more real, and his heart swelled with happiness.

When you saw him, a smile broke out across your face, and before you could say anything, San was already there, walking towards you with long strides. The moment you locked eyes, the world around you seemed to fade. The years apart, the distance—none of it mattered now.

"Yn," San said your name softly, his voice full of warmth and something else, something deeper. He was standing right in front of you now, his eyes searching yours, as though taking in every little detail.

The moment San’s arms wrapped around you, everything felt like it clicked back into place. All the years apart, the distance, the longing—it all flooded back in an overwhelming rush. You could feel the tension in your body release as he pulled you in close, his warmth wrapping around you like a familiar blanket.

Tears started to blur your vision as they rolled down your cheeks, unexpected yet somehow inevitable. The years you had spent missing him, the silent ache in your chest, and the excitement of finally being here, in his arms—it was all too much. You let the emotions flow freely, no longer holding back.

San’s grip tightened around you, his hands soothingly rubbing your back, as if grounding you in the moment. His voice was soft, filled with concern, but laced with the same warmth that had always made you feel safe. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, his voice just for you. “I’m here now. I’m right here.”

His words, so familiar yet so comforting, broke something inside you, and you cried even harder. It was the release you didn’t know you needed, the culmination of everything you had kept bottled up for years.

San pulled back slightly, just enough to look at your face, his expression filled with a mix of understanding and tenderness. His thumb gently wiped the tears from your cheeks, his gaze softening as he smiled down at you. “I’m so sorry it took this long,” he whispered.

You sniffed, still overwhelmed by everything but grateful beyond words. “Me too,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible. “I didn’t know how much I needed this until now.”

San’s hands cupped your face, his forehead resting gently against yours. “You don’t ever have to wait this long again,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll make sure of that.”

San’s breath hitched slightly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His heart raced as you gently pressed your lips to his, the kiss tender and full of unspoken feelings. The moment felt like it was suspended in time, both of you lost in the shared connection that had been years in the making.

The soft warmth of his lips against yours was everything you had been yearning for during the long time apart. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a promise, a shared understanding of all the moments that led up to this one. You could feel the way his hands instinctively tightened around you, pulling you even closer, as if he never wanted to let you go again.

The kiss deepened, slow and careful, as if both of you were savoring the reunion. Every little touch, every breath, felt like the culmination of everything you had missed and everything you were about to rediscover together.

When you finally pulled away, you both lingered, foreheads resting against each other, breathing heavily, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions. San’s hands remained on your face, his thumbs brushing gently against your skin as he looked at you with such softness in his eyes.

" promise?"

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “I promise.”

You smiled, a sense of peace washing over you, knowing that this time, you didn’t have to wait any longer.

#san x reader fluff #san x reader #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #choi san #choi san fluff #ateez san #ateez san x reader #ateez choi san #san fluff

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werew0lfhours · 3 days ago

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So, a certain someone has decided to rebrand, but before that, she was working on a script for a new video.

(Before I get to far into this, I don't want this to become a blog about her this is my safe side of the internet, I just feel insulted by this.)

Now, here's what she said;

(For those that can't read the fuck ass text; I apologize for everything I've said about Natalie Wynn, Jessica Routhier, Nate Stevenson, Patricia Taxxon, Jessie Earl, Rebecca Sugar, and Abigail Thorne. And if I said something unkind to you and I forgot your name, pop it into the comments and you'll get one personally.)

.... Interesting right?

She apologizes to creators who probably have forgotten about her existence, if they ever knew about her in the first place. And she ends it in a way that says she wants to be reminded of who else she may have hurt. Don't worry hun, I got you.

Crimson Ender; Trans man you have dehumanized and called a pedophile for having a differing opinion and poking fun at you. He's also native, and trying to keep his culture alive. Unlike you.

Sai Scribbles; A lesbian you have dehumanized and happly let be doxxed until it looked bad on you. All for correcting you on a show made for children, and being a bit catty about it. Not to mention, false flagging her content.

Anthony Gragmulia; A bisexual man you have dehumanized, denied his experience with surviving abuse, have been homophobic to, and claimed to have been fired for being a misogynist, which could have gotten him blacklisted from his industry, if it wasn't total horseshit. He also got false flagged by you. All for correcting you on Pokémon lore, a game made for children.

Blake; A person you sexually harassed and tried to get them to admit they were attracted to you, which is still, sexual harassment.

Britt; A woman you sexually harrassed when you were presenting as a cis man. She's a lesbian. You had Tara try and talk her into sleeping with you. That is harassment.

Josh; A man who you were friends with, alleged he faked being in the American Armed Forces, said he was a pedophile (when you had previously tried to get him to date a much younger woman who was a minor at the time), and continue to bring up even though he has moved on.

InkRose; A woman you tried to pressure into dating an older man when she wasn't even legal, and then had your fans draw art of her sona with women, even though she is straight and uncomfortable with that artwork.

KP; A friend you threw away when she wanted some answers. A friend you have doxxed. A friend who wanted to believe you. But you ran like a coward.

Lizzy; You're ex who you dehumanized and have continually said horrible things about unprompted when she hasn't done a goddamn thing. She never said anything about you until you started talking shit. You dragged her name so far through the mud, she doesn't feel safe on Tumblr anymore. You threatened to release the nudes she thought you had deleted. You stole one of her beloved oc's, which is so fucking awful to do. Not to mention: You stole her goddamn last name.

Ginger; A minor you didn't discourage to not draw NSFW of your avatar, when they were very open about being a minor. You then proceeded to have some kind of a relationship with them when they were hardly legal.

Carousel; Another person you had a romantic relationship with that you treated badly after they broke up with you. You also stole an oc from them.

Ren; Another fan you seemed to have a strange relationship with. They're married, and live in Russia. I'm assuming their spouse wouldn't be happy if they knew the full truth, no?

Opal; A fan of yours who you drew a version of your puppet in their style that you got so enraged at because she gave you some weight and curves. She isn't on the internet anymore... Weird, huh?

Lolo; A friend turned fan who you have snapped at as if she is an unruly dog and never seemed to apologize for your outburst after the fact.

Levi; A minor fan who alleges they had a weird interaction/relationship with. Who has screenshots they are too scared to share. Strange.

Mikaila; Your wife. Your wife, who was a fan. Your wife, who has had a very hard life, and sees you as her ray of sunshine. Your wife, who you expect to draw, you whatever art you want without payment. Your wife, who you have trained like a fucking dog. Your wife, who would make noises you didn't like so you cried, instead of talking to her like an adult. Your wife, who you horny posted about when her cat died, and she needed your comfort. Your wife, who you snapped at when her chair creaked, the same fucking day she found out her mother had been stealing from her. Your wife, who left the call after that. Your wife, who you didn't notice she left until a few minutes later, because you were flirting with another woman. Your wife, you chastised for letting dinner burn because you were playing a video game and couldn't get off your ass to check on it yourself. Your wife, who you have dehumanized, and very recently, made it seem like you only value her because she has "holes you can penetrate". Your wife, who doesn't live with you.

Courtney; You know what you did. I don't need to say it.

And to top it off; the countless people you told to kill themselves in very uncreative ways.

But you apologize to people with more power. The one that stands out who doesn't fit in is Patricia Taxxon. You know, a trans woman who has e-flashed her fan base, some of them being minors, has allegedly masturbated in a discord call with minors as well, and posts on her public Tumblr about wanting to fuck her biological father. Actually "fuck" is the incorrect verbage; she wants to be re-victimized by him for her sexual pleasure. She also talks about having pedophilic thoughts in a way she doesn't seem too bothered about. And, don't get me started on Buyer's Market.

And while I'm thinking about it; Why don't you apologize for associating with someone who might actually be a white supremacist. You know who. Your brother.

Cameron. Cameron, who molested your sister and shared a room with you. Cameron, who had other children in your neighborhood, alleged he did the same to him that he did to Courtney. Cameron, who was dishonorably discharged for assaulting several fellow officers. That's public info, you know. Cameron, who deadnames, misgenders, and refuses to acknowledge your identity and your wife's identity. Cameron, who you, for years, said was a piece of shit until recently. Cameron, who is a Trump cocksucker and has made fun of children dying in mass shootings. Cameron, who is the exact person you say we should bash his brains in with a rock, but he's your dearest relative? Your beloved brother?

So, nice try at an apology. But, it isn't true, is it? But nevermind that, we both know that apologizes mean nothing if you don't fucking change your behavior. And you never change. Do you? So, take your apology, because it's worthless here.

Ps. If you were planning your rebrand, why did you still sign your most recent script with your old name, "Casey"? It seems a bit fishy to me, but how would I know? I'm a jackass on the internet :)

(Final line reads; I'm Lily, thanks for watching.)

#lily orchard critical #CD-call #you can run #but you can't hide #lily orchard #lily peet

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randomfoggytiger · 19 hours ago

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The X-Files: Scully's Pregnancy and Mulder's Abduction

(Extract from a larger meta I'm working on~.)

I’ve read elsewhere that it was speculated by fans-- nay, planned by the producers-- to kill Mulder off in Requiem’s finale. By the same token, I’ve seen echoing sentiment that Scully’s pregnancy was tacked on as a last-minute attention grab to green light Season 8. And while there may be degrees of truth to both ideologies, the facts presented reveal a different, more realistic truth: Scully’s conception was planned around the alien ship in Biogenesis-The Sixth Extinction (post here); and Mulder’s abduction, not death, was going to be filmed the same with or without an eighth season.

Quoting Marc Shapiro’s book:

“Requiem” wrapped filming on May 5, 2000. The consensus was that the season finale was stark, bleak, and ultimately satisfying episode. But there still were no answers.

“Nobody knew when we started that episode that we were coming back,” concludes Spotnitz. “Nobody knew it at the wrap party. It was a very odd wrap party. We were all saying, ‘This can’t be the end because it doesn’t feel right.’ It just didn’t feel like we had closure.”

Shortly before “Requiem” aired, Fox announced that “The X-Files” would be back for an eighth season. David Duchovny had agreed to come back but would only appear in a total of eleven episodes….

That fact is repeated in other interviews, which also claim-- over and over-- that Scully’s pregnancy was definitively planned when The Sixth Extinction and Amor Fati were penned:

This May 2000 joint interview--

Did the producers shoot an alternative ending, as reported?

That`s just crazy talk, insists Carter: “I would have played it the same way whether [Duchovny] came back or not.” In fact, Carter says he`s been planning Mulder`s abduction and Scully`s pregnancy since the start of the season. “I thought it was a finale that would work for any eventuality. And because we had planned to do movies, I thought that would be a place to pick up with those things.”

Perhaps the alternative-ending rumors stem from the producers` clandestine high jinks: Because they wanted to keep the prenatal plot under wraps, the pregnancy scene wasn't revealed to the crew until the night it was shot. “The last page of the script was never published,” says Spotnitz. “That was a secret we were trying to hold as long as possible.”

--this July 2000 interview--

“I [Carter] had to write the season finale — which is called ‘Requiem’ — I had to write it without knowing whether or not we’d be back.”

--this November 2000 interview--

We heard there were 2 possible endings for “Requiem”…can you tell us what the other ending we didn’t see was and how long before you filmed the episode did you decide to make Scully’s pregnancy an option?

"It was never an option, it was always the ending. I [Carter] just did not inform the actors or the crew that Scully’s pregnancy was going to be in the script. I had planned this for months with Frank Spotnitz and only delivered the script pages to Kim Manners — the director — and to Gillian and Mitch Pileggi minutes before they performed the scene. I’m just paranoid!"

--this Frank Spotnitz December 2000 solo interview--

When was the decision made to pursue a storyline in which Scully becomes pregnant?

Spotnitz: "At the very beginning of season seven, we hit upon the idea and it seemed wonderful to us. There was beautiful symmetry to it. We knew that was our target all season, and so we did a number of things in episodes that would be tantalizing for fans who later were to look back at the episodes and try and figure out when Scully might have gotten pregnant and how. And that’s something we will continue to explore this season. But all questions will be answered by the end of the season, we promise."

--and the information presented in previous sections of this post all bear up under the same narrative.

But potentially the most shocking bombshell of all, Spotnitz admitted in May 2008 that a pregnancy for Scully had been in the works since Season 5:

Q: When (the year or the season) did you plan the storyline about Scully’s pregnacy?

FS: We had thought about it for some time (at least since Season 5), but we didn’t definitely decide on Scully’s pregnancy until Season 7.

Although CC’s word is tentative at best, Spotnitz never wavers from honesty when asked a direct question; and I'm inclined to believe him.

But if neither are to be believed-- understandable-- then one glance at Amor Fati’s ending script should crush any remaining doubt:

(More Amor Fati script bits can be found here.)

A parallel with purposed intent.

Is a pregnancy at odds with Scully's personality? No, I don't think so: she's open to having kids as early as The Jersey Devil and brings the subject up pointedly to Mulder in Home (post here.) She mourns her infertility in A Christmas Carol-- "I just never realized how much I wanted it until I couldn't have it"-- and grasps at an IVF chance in Per Manum's flashbacks (posts here and here.) The FBI itself is actually a considerably safe career, and quite supportive of their agents' familial obligations. The problem-- if one could call it that-- is The X-Files: an undeniably, astronomically unsafe and unstable career that is not conducive to family needs or structure... which the writers crafted purposefully, as will be discussed below.

Mulder wants a normal life just as much as Scully (@thursdayinspace's post here) but gave up those aspirations-- literally in The Jersey Devil-- in order to find his answers and unveil the Truth. His character arc and growth is a meta post all its own; but though his journey was concluded in Closure, his detachment from and transition away from the files didn't conclude until Season 8's Vienen. Be that as it may, he speaks about a wish to settle down in a place like Home and dreams about "another life, another world" with a wife and children and his sister, safe at last.

Why, then, does the baby arc feel so tacked on-- despite the roots of its conception (pun intended) tracing back to at least Season 5?

Surprise, surprise: the writing is a mess.

In March 2003, David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson were both glad the show was coming to a close. She gently hinted, “I think it’s good to finish now. We had a great run, but we’re getting out at the right time when the show is still a hit" while he blatantly asserted, “You cannot say it died anything but a natural death." No surprise, considering their excitement over Scully's pregnancy and Mulder's abduction were reduced to footnotes--

Tom Kessenich’s EXaminations:

...Anderson wasn't thrilled with the amount of attention the writers were lavishing on Doggett. ...she believed with Duchovny gone this would be her chance to step into the show's spotlight. Instead, the light shines on Doggett...

...Duchovny felt some frustration as well once he returned full-time for the final six episodes. In interviews after the season, he lamented the lack of resolution to Mulder's abduction and that Mulder was rendered into being a "peripheral" character.

...Duchovny also did not care for the paternity tease since it prevented him and Anderson from establishing any proper dramatic foreshadowing. The two stars were also reportedly unhappy the relationship between Mulder and Scully was not expired more fully since Duchovny planned to leave the series at the end of the season.

--and both had to begrudgingly accept, as parents, that their characters effectively abandoned (for his own good, we're told) William--

"Duchovny, Anderson, and Shiban (all parents) reportedly were not thrilled with the idea. They grudgingly consented only after Carter revealed his plan to end the series with Mulder and Scully on the run, hardly in the best position to raise a child."

What's worse, then and now, is: both agreed, largely, with the direction and decisions of the show heading into Season 8; and heavily disagreed with the direction and decisions of the show unfolding in Season 9. Not only was David and Gillian's interest in Scully's pregnancy and Mulder's abduction squandered, but their own characters' recovery and happy ending was swiftly destroyed not even a year later.

CONCLUSION

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

#txf #xf meta #x files #DD #GA #mine #Scully #Mulder #Requiem #William #CC #Frank Spotnitz #The Official Guidebook to The X-Files #Book 6 #Marc Shapiro #S8 #S9 #x-files #the x files #xfiles

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r0-boat · 3 days ago

Note

I had very close friend who was bpd and ı kinda see him in leviathan

But just bit not too much few things are similar like crashouts and panic attacks and trying to gain control lol

Yeah... I see a little bit of myself in levi(maybe that's why I'm so attached)

---levi and Ch7 rant incoming---

Just want to let you know this is from the eyes of a Leviathan fan! So it's not going to be too harsh hehe!

Leviathan is a very emotionally complex person, and if we are dependending on PB to write him we are going to be disappointed.

Chapter 7 was really weird.

Like the whole MC flash back to all his abuse before sobbing... And the random Levi trying to kill us thing, after the last few chapters when he said that he would protect us???

Leviathan's character is not bad, in fact if done right it's really emotionally satisfying and rewarding.

For example:

Leviathan's bath card

Although not perfect, I felt that is was better at showing leviathan's character.

Let me explain: as you know the story of normal bath cards. Angel's with toxic blood explode on the devil king It immediately soaks into their skin and you have to wash them and save their life before they die.

So the reason why I love this card very much is because this plays into Levi's agoraphobia.

Even if MC is trying to help him he feels That he is in great danger. Levi is covered in an angel's blood and he is quickly losing control of himself as he is having a mental breakdown pushing away sometimes a violently MC who is trying to help them.

The reason why he's pushing them away even though they're trying to help him is that he feels helpless He doesn't have any control over the situation. This is included in his backstory since he was not only a prisoner but also a slave and sometimes even a test subject.

Levi finally explains why he's acting like this.

This is far more meaningful than whatever the fuck was in chapter 7 because it was Levi himself that trusted MC enough to explain what traumatized him. Despite not trusting them, he still seeks comfort from them, trying to play with them, trying to hold their hand while practically reliving his trauma.

After he explains himself he admits that it felt good and he trusted MC more to actually help him.

I have to point out that Leviathan cannot the toxic blood off himself nor can other devils he puts his absolute trust in because if they touch any of this blood they will also be at risk for their lives. MC has to do it, a person that he trusts very little.

But at this moment as MC reassures him that they are not a danger and that he could trust them His guard drops completely his mercy completely in their hands.

Leviathan's feelings for you are complex; he both once you and wants to be with you, But doesn't trust you and is afraid of what you're capable of, He also finds you very annoying.

Knowing in this situation that he can trust you with his life (And this is a porn game, and the MC is a vicious horny goblin) He wants more of you and the two of you don't just have sex The two of you make love. He kisses you softly he holds you like he cherishes you and he doesn't want to let you go.

It's so funny, out of all the Seven Kings that fuck you only Leviathan has made love to you. Leviathan when he's not being complete asshole to you He gets you gifts, He plays with your hand, he kisses you softly.

Anyways TLDR Levi bath >>>>>>>>whatever the fuck chapter 7 was.

#ro.chatting #whb #whb leviathan #what in hell is bad #I love him lots!#reject Canon lol #leviathan's bath was really good You should really get it if you can #I really don't think agoraphobia fits him as much as the writers want him to but I'm not sure I don't have agoraphobia #He definitely has an anxiety disorder though

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linawritesficsies · 9 hours ago

Text

s.h. | we need to warm up (one shot)

a/n: it's been a while since i posted a steve fic, so here it issssss. this is a combination of a friends episode and a scene from an old tv show i used to watch when i was a teenager.

warnings: being locked up in closed spaces, language, mentions of sex and injuries (freezing), english is not my first language. some stuff may not be accurate. MINORS DNI. credits to the gif owner!

summary: steve and you worked at scoops ahoy together and one day while you two were bickering about something silly, you got stuck in a walk-in refrigerator.

steve harrington x afab!oc!reader.

🚫do NOT copy, translate or put my work thru an AI.

Robin, your best friend, helped you get this job at Scoops Ahoy a couple of months ago. The work itself wasn’t ideal because you had to put up with a lot of annoying people (and cleaning toilets wasn’t very appealing either), but the pay was pretty good and it allowed you to combine it with your study schedule. The best parts were obviously the free ice cream and sharing shifts with your bestie.

You also had to share several shifts with Steve Harrington. You didn’t like him at first if you were being completely honest. You knew him from before because you had shared a few classes at Hawkins High, but you never actively talked to him. He was very handsome and charming, but his reputation of being a womanizer and a douchebag preceded him so for you that was enough to keep your distance.

However, everything changed when you took on this job. On the bright side, has had some personal growth over the last few months so this made spending time with him a lot easier. Of course, the King Steve persona sometimes came into the light and he could get insufferable, but you still enjoyed his company. You could say you had more of a ‘frenemies’ relationship. Definitely, one of the things that amused you the most was bickering with Steve, so when the work day was quiet, you’d pick a silly argument just for the sake of it.

Thus, that’s what led the two of you to discuss the topic of sex in the middle of one casual Saturday afternoon in mid-September at Scoops Ahoy. The weather was chiller than the one from previous weeks, but there were some people that weren’t going to let the climate get in the way of getting ice cream. You couldn’t blame them though. Robin was at the register machine, getting the customers’ orders and Steve and you were organizing the stock at the back of the shop.

“Harrington, are you really saying that kissing and foreplay are not as important as the sex part!?”, you exclaimed a bit too loudly while you glared at your coworker with a questioning look. He just quirked his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders meaning ‘Yes, I said what I said. Deal with it.’

You didn’t feel any shame talking about these topics. In fact, you were pretty bold. Especially with Steve. He had that vibe that made everyone around him feel comfortable with discussing or doing anything. Of course. King Steve, ladies and gentlemen.

“Why would I prefer the opening act when I know I’ll be seeing, I dunno, The Police soon?”

You let out a chuckle.

“You have been spending more time with Eddie, haven’t you?”, he gave you a mocking look. It was no secret that Steve wasn’t a fan of Eddie, especially because recently he had been stealing Dustin’s attention and that made Steve more jealous than he cared to admit. You couldn’t help but smile at the cuteness of Steve and Dustin’s relationship and his jealousy.

You grabbed one of the boxes with new ice cream flavours that were recently delivered to the shop because you had to carry them to the walk-in refrigerator, but since the two boxes were really heavy you asked Steve for help. At first he pretended to ignore you, but then he smiled teasingly and grabbed the other one to give you a hand. You had trouble deciding whether you hated that smile or you loved it… It was probably the latter.

As soon as you entered the refrigerator, the chilly air hit your skin. You carefully placed the box you were carrying on the floor and put the door wedge so it wouldn’t close while you were in there. The door was pretty heavy because it needed to stay shut in order to keep the temperature low, but also, the door handle wasn’t working pretty well.

“Anyways, for us girls they’re really equally important”, you resumed your little argument while you two arranged the ice creams on the various shelves, categorizing them by their flavor. “We can get all the information we need about the other person from the first kiss. I can’t believe you don’t like it.”

You looked at him from the corner of your eye and noticed that he rolled his.

“No, honey”, he paused and sighed. You screamed internally at the pet name. He usually called you by your name or ‘Smarty Pants’ whenever you gave him witty comebacks. “It’s not that I don’t like it. I do, but I’d rather get down to the real business quicker.”

“Well, hun, friendly advice, if you keep thinking like that, you’ll have to settle with solo concerts.”

Steve wanted to give you the middle finger so badly but couldn’t do it because he had his hands full so he had to contempt himself by sticking out his tongue in a mocking tone. You gave him a playful nudge on the shoulder and then he gave you another one back but Steve was stronger than you so you tripped backwards and accidentally kicked the door wedge and the refrigerator door closed.

“Fuck”, the two of you blurted out in unison; your heartbeats picking up rapidly. You exchanged looks and frowned your eyebrows at the same time. Under different circumstances, you would have laughed at the synchronicity.

“This is your fault.”

“How is this my fault, Harrington? You pushed me!”, you replied back while you got up from the floor and adjusted your uniform.

“You made me come in here!”

“I simply asked for your help!”

You decided it was useless to continue with this bickering so you kneeled down before the door handle to try to make it work. However, it was useless. The door refused to budge. You had repeatedly asked Keith, your boss, to call the repair guy to fix said handle but of course he never did. You cursed him under your breath while you got back up and started screaming and banging on the door.

“ROBIN! HELP! SOMEBODY”, Steve joined you but nobody seemed to hear. “HELLO, WE’RE INSIDE THE REFRIGERATOR!”, you both screamed over and over again.

“I hope Robin notices quickly we’re nowhere to be seen. If not, we’re going to freeze to death”, you lifted your hands to massage your scalp, trying to prevent yourself from spiraling. Extremely difficult task given the not so encouraging situation. You didn’t consider yourself a claustrophobic person but you weren’t a fan.

“Don’t exaggerate, Y/N. It’s just a little bit of cold”, he shrugged his shoulders and waved his hand dismissively, as if brushing off your very real concern.

If looks could kill, he would be reduced to ashes right now.

“Unlike you, I don’t have teenage-like hormones, Steve. I get cold easily.”

He was about to reply with another witty comment, but he noticed how anxious you were getting. He saw your right leg start bouncing rapidly and how you bit your fingernails—subtle things you did when you were nervous or distressed. He had noticed them before. He let out a defeated sigh.

“OK, I’m being serious right now: we’re going to get out of here in a heartbeat, don’t worry.”

You went back to the screaming and banging, hoping that someone outside would hear you at that very moment and get you out of there. Unfortunately, you were alone with the echoes of your voice and movements. Meanwhile, Steve was pacing the small place, thinking of any other possible escape.

After some minutes that felt like hours, the cold and the confinement were starting to take a toll on you. You sat on the floor with your back against the door to keep hitting it, more occasionally now. The Scoops Ahoy uniform was not enough to keep you warm; your body started trembling so you hugged yourself, keeping your knees close to your chest. Steve heard your shivering breaths. He scanned the ‘room’ one more time and saw the empty cardboard boxes stacked where you had been organizing the ice cream.

“We can use the empty ice cream boxes to keep us warm”, you gave him a questioning look. encouraging him to clarify. “We can break them down to sit on them and then put the other parts over our bodies”.

“God bless that big head of yours, Harrington.”, you smiled and tried to stand up but it wasn’t as easy as before. Your body was getting stiffer. Steve gave you a hand.

The two of you started tearing up the boxes and placing the flattened pieces on the floor next to the door and then cutting up bigger sections to use as makeshift blankets.

“Well, it’s better than nothing”, Steve commented once you were all set and you agreed, keeping the cardboard boxes as close to your body as possible.

It was far from being the perfect solution, but it worked… for a couple of minutes. Then, you started shivering again. You got up to the point where you could no longer feel your legs. You wanted to keep screaming and banging on the door but the little energy you had was starting to wear off. You decided to save it for later.

“Fuck, it’s so cold in here. I can’t stand it anymore”, you blurted out, more to yourself than anything and tried to rub your hands violently against your legs to get some warmth.

“Come here”, Steve whispered while opening his arms, motioning you to huddle closer to him so you could share whatever body heat you had left. It was true, Steve had a higher body temperature than any other person either of you knew but he wasn’t sure of how much that was going to last. He was feeling colder too.

You were hesitant to accept his embrace at first because you weren’t used to sharing physical contact with him but you quickly decided that it was worth trying it. Once you were beside him, he put his arms around your shaking frame and put two cardboard boxes over both your bodies. He rested his head on top of yours and you hugged him, wrapping your arms around his waist. Despite everything, this felt strangely nice and comfortable.

“We’re gonna get out of here, I promise”, he said after some silence and you could see the wisps of vapor that looked like smoke coming out of his mouth.

You were too tired and weak to say or do anything. It seemed the temperature kept dropping every second. There was some frost on your hair and your eyelashes. Steve had it on his perfect hair too. At this moment, you actually believed you were going to die there. You snuggled closer into Steve’s embrace; not that it was really possible because you were practically glued to him.

You slowly started to drift off; your eyelids felt like two bricks of concrete. Steve went into alert mode when he felt you relax under his touch. “Hey, Y/N. Can you hear me?”

You let out a barely audible “Mh” and he started rubbing circles on your arm, close to your elbow.

“Stay awake, OK?”

He knew you couldn’t fall asleep if you had hypothermia. He didn’t know why but he remembered one of his biology teachers who explained that your body functions would slow down even more, which could be deadly. He didn’t even want to imagine that happening.

At first, he didn’t want to admit he liked you because you were a pain in the neck, but then, as he spent more and more time with you, he learned you were funny, smart, and although you annoyed him to boredom sometimes, you were kind-hearted. Also, you had one of the most contagious laughs he has ever heard. And on top of that, you were insanely pretty.

This drastic situation helped him realize he didn’t want to lose you, in any way. He couldn’t.

“I can’t.”, you whispered once again.

“Yes, you can”, his hands moved upwards to cup both your cheeks now; his desperate eyes fixed on your face. “Open your eyes, please, darling”. You wanted to laugh at the nickname but you didn’t even have the strength to do so. His voice was trembling now too. He didn’t know if out of the cold he was feeling or of the fear of something happening to you. He placed a kiss on your forehead. “Come on, I wanna see those pretty eyes.”

“I’m cold, Stevie. I’m sorry.”

You only used that nickname to tease him because he hated it. Now, it scratched his brain just right. He didn’t fail to notice you looked so small, so fragile. He didn’t know how, but he could feel you slip away from him.

“No, no, no, no”, he blurted out quickly. “Y/N, listen to me. Focus on my voice and my hands”, he rubbed circles on both of your cheeks. “Don’t fall asleep. Talk to me.”

His serious but also desperate tone made you realize the gravity of your state.

“About what?”, you whispered as you tried to get your whole attention to his gentle touches and his breathing.

“About anything. Tell me a secret, a memory, an embarrassing story. Whatever comes to your mind, just talk to me.”

You gathered strength out of nowhere and opened your eyes. You saw Steve sigh with a little bit of relief. He also looked exhausted and cold, but there was something in his eyes that told you he was not giving up easily. You couldn’t say so for yourself, sadly.

“Your pretty eyes are the last pair I’m going to see”, you spoke slowly. Steve’s heart broke a little at your statement.

“No, don’t say things like that.. I need you to stay here with me. Please. I need you to stay alive so I can take you on a date when we’re out of here”, his voice and the movements on your skin were starting to slow down too. “I don’t want to leave this planet before kissing your beautiful lips.”

You gave him a weak smile.

“Do it now, Stevie.”

He lifted his eyebrows, thinking he heard you incorrectly. But then, you directed your eyes to his own lips, so he took it as an invitation and wasted no time. The kiss was slow and short but sweet nonetheless. None of you had much energy to keep going for longer, much to your dismay.

“That’s the way to warm up, right?”, he joked and you let out a choked laugh.

You went back to your tight embrace. You weren’t sure how much time you had left. You stopped trembling a couple of minutes ago and you knew that wasn’t a good sign. You thought about your family and your friends. One single tear fell from your left eye.

Just about when Steve was going to wipe it, you heard some noises on the other side of the door. You two looked at each other and Steve used the adrenaline rush to get back on his feet and helped you do the same.

“HELP, WE’RE STUCK IN THE REFRIGERATOR. PLEASE HELP”, Steve was the one yelling and you attempted to bang the door as loud as you could.

And then, the door finally opened. You squinted your eyes due to the sudden change of lightning and tried to make out the silhouette that was standing in front of you, but before you could see who it was or do anything else, your legs gave in and your vision went black, which resulted in you passing out on the ground.

Your eyelids fluttered open as the characteristic antiseptic hospital smell hit your nose. The sterile white walls were the first thing you saw. Your body still felt cold, even though you had several blankets wrapped around your frame. You turned your head to the side and saw Steve sitting on a chair, wrapped on a blanket as well. His eyes were closed and his head was slightly tilted to the side. He looked worn off but really adorable.

“Steve?”, you called his name but you didn’t recognize your own voice. It was really sore. The boy opened his eyes and gave you a sweet smile. There was a mixture of relief and concern in his look.

“Hey… You gave us quite the scare.” You apologized and he shrugged it off. “Your parents are already here. They’re filling out the paperwork.” He grabbed the chair and moved it forward to be closer to your bed. Then he grabbed your hand that was hidden under the blankets. “I should call the doctor to let her know you had woken up.”

You nodded but refused to let his hand go so he could stand up. His heart melted.

“We need to talk about our date”, you casually mentioned between giggles.

“You don’t waste a minute, don’t you?”, he chuckled, shaking his head. “I assure you, it’s going to be a date to die for.” Now it was your turn to laugh.

aaaand the end... i hope you enjoyed it! and as always, i'd love to read some comments with your opinions :) and i'm also taking request, so there's your chance to leave a nice ask 💗

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #x oc!reader #oc character #fanfics #fanfic writing #joe keery #x reader #fluff #angst #friends #frenemies #hurt/comfort #reader insert

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thyras · 2 days ago

Text

→ of finer tastings (bonus chapter)

PAIRING → mairon | sauron x female!elf!reader

WORD COUNT → 9.3k words

SERIES → of sauron & the moriquendi

WARNINGS → 18+ only MDNI - unprotected p in v, oral (male & fem receiving), fingering, degradation (he calls her a whore), exhibitionism, masturbation, rough sex

SUMMARY → there is no greater taste than when the one you love falls apart over you.

AUTHORS NOTE → i broke the next part into two as well because i had an idea for the second part to kind of make it something else that i wanna work on. but i feel like this was my magnum opus when it came to writing smut. i really did not hold myself back like i usually do cause i tend to shy away from ‘things’. still have not finished next chapter so…yeah. i get distracted okay 😂

masterlist // series playlist // mood board

After peeling yourselves away from your marital bliss, you both went your separate ways and began your day. You had spent most of the morning teaching your lessons by the river, where the children had eagerly scurried off to the water’s edge, content to play in Sirion’s crystal waters. Leaning back on your hands, you basked in the sun’s warm glow against your skin, savoring the soft, fragrant breeze and the sweet melodies of childhood laughter.

A presence stirred behind you. Turning, you saw Eärlindë striding toward you, a basket of soiled linens in her hands. You offered her an inviting smile, and she returned it before settling beside you, sinking into the blossoms and tilting her face toward the sun’s warmth.

Eärlindë set her basket of linens aside and turned to you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So," she drawled, her tone laced with playful innuendo, "how was your night with that delicious husband of yours?" She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "I trust he made good on his promise to ravish you senseless?"

A fierce blush bloomed across your cheeks at her teasing words, memories of Mairon's passionate attentions still fresh in your mind—and body. You ducked your head, biting your lip in a vain attempt to suppress the giddy smile threatening to spill across your face. "Eärlindë! You are impossible," you chided, though your breathy giggle betrayed your lack of true annoyance.

Your friend merely smirked, utterly unrepentant. "Oh, come now, Tintilmë. You cannot expect me to ignore the glow of a well-satisfied woman." She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Besides, after the delicious tension between Mairon and Lord Curufin last night, I simply must know how your golden smith staked his claim."

Despite the heat suffusing your cheeks, you couldn't suppress the shiver of delight that raced down your spine at the memory. Mairon had been insatiable, worshipping your body with a reverent ferocity that left you boneless and utterly spent. The possessive fire in his eyes as he marked your skin, the low growl of mine on his lips with every thrust—it had been a claiming in the most primal of ways.

You sighed, lost in the delicious recollection of Mairon's ardent attentions. "It was… intense," you admitted, your blush deepening. "Mairon was determined to leave no doubt in my mind—or my body—about whom I belong to. He worshipped me for hours, driving me to the brink of madness again and again until I was hoarse from screaming his name."

Eärlindë fanned herself theatrically, her eyes sparkling with mirth and a hint of envy. "It seems our golden lord was quite thorough in his amorous vengeance." She leaned in closer, her expression turning sly. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to share any delectable details? A lady has to live vicariously, you know."

You swatted at her playfully, laughing even as you shook your head. "Eärlindë, you are incorrigible! A lady does not kiss and tell." Your eyes twinkled with mischief, despite your halfhearted attempt at propriety.

Eärlindë heaved an exaggerated sigh, her full lips forming an adorable pout. "Alas, you are too good, my friend, leaving me to wither away in unquenched curiosity."

Her dramatics coaxed another giggle from your lips, and you bumped your shoulder against hers affectionately. "Oh hush, you. As if you are truly suffering." Your gaze turned sly as you arched a knowing brow. "I seem to recall a certain dark-haired minstrel who was vying rather ardently for your attention last night."

Eärlindë’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink at the mention of the handsome minstrel, though her eyes sparkled with intrigue. "Ah yes, Ereinion. He is quite persistent in his pursuit." She plucked a small white blossom from beside her, twirling it between her slender fingers. "And not unskilled with his silver tongue. The songs he weaves could charm the very stars from the sky."

You grinned, delighted by this new development. Eärlindë was no blushing maiden—she had had her share of admirers over the years. But few had managed to hold her interest for long. This Ereinion must be special indeed to put such a dreamy look in her eyes.

"Do tell, mellon," you urged, shifting to face her fully. "Has our lovely songbird managed to pluck at your heartstrings with his dulcet tones?"

Eärlindë laughed, a musical sound that mingled pleasantly with the gentle rush of the river. "Perhaps a little," she admitted, her eyes softening with a faraway look. "He is different from the others who have sought my favor. There is a depth to him, a quiet intensity beneath the charming exterior. When he looks at me, I feel as though he sees into my very soul."

You reached over to clasp her hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze. "He sounds wonderful, Eärlindë. Your heart has been too long without a worthy companion." You smiled warmly. "I should like to meet this minstrel who has so enraptured my dearest friend."

Eärlindë returned your smile, squeezing your hand gratefully. "And you shall, mellon. Perhaps we could arrange a small gathering—just the four of us. I would love for you and Mairon to meet Ereinion properly, away from the prying eyes of my parents.” She rolled her eyes at the mention of them.

You chuckled knowingly. All elven parents were invested in their child’s love life until they were safely married off, and Eärlindë’s mother, Eäriel, was no exception. She had even taken up the mantle with you at times, though never as insistently as she did with her own daughter.

"That sounds perfect," you agreed, squeezing her hand once more before leaning back on your hands again. The river sang softly in the background, the sun warming your skin as the laughter of children echoed along the banks.

You and Eärlindë sat in companionable silence for a time, enjoying the peaceful beauty of the riverbank and the carefree play of the children. Eventually, duty called you both back—Eärlindë to her pile of linens and you to shepherd your young students back for their afternoon lessons. With a parting smile and a promise to plan the gathering with Ereinion soon, you went your separate ways.

The rest of the day passed in a pleasant blur of teaching, tending to household tasks, and stealing the occasional secret smile as your thoughts drifted to memories of the previous night's passion with Mairon. By the time early evening cast its rosy glow over the valley, you found yourself practically humming with anticipation to be back in your husband's arms.

As if conjured by your yearning thoughts, you spotted Mairon's tall, broad-shouldered form striding through the city center from the window in the kitchen. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, his coppery hair catching the golden light of early evening like a halo of fire. Mairon moved with the easy grace of a predator—powerful, purposeful strides that ate up the distance. Even from a distance, you could feel the magnetic pull of his presence, the way he commanded attention without even trying.

Quickly wiping your hands on a cloth, you hurried to the front door, a giddy smile already tugging at your lips. You flung it open just as Mairon reached the threshold, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. Without a word, he swept you into his arms, kicking the door shut behind him as he claimed your lips in a searing kiss.

You hummed in delight against his lips as Mairon devoured your mouth with passionate kisses, his strong arms holding you flush against his powerful body. The scent of smoke and metal that always clung to him after a day at the forge filled your senses, a heady, masculine aroma that was uniquely Mairon. You loved him like this—fresh from his craft, still thrumming with the primal energy of creation, his skin heated from more than just the fires of the forge.

When the need for air finally forced you apart, Mairon rested his forehead against yours, his emerald eyes blazing with love and desire. "I missed you today, sweet one," he murmured, his voice a low, sensual rasp that sent shivers down your spine. "The hours dragged endlessly, and all I could think about was returning to your arms."

You smiled softly, your fingers tracing the chiseled lines of Mairon's jaw. "I missed you too, my love," you murmured. "The day always seems brighter when I know I will soon be back in your embrace."

Mairon turned his head to press a lingering kiss to your palm, his lips curved in a tender smile against your skin. "You are my light, Mori."

Your heart clenched at the raw emotion in his voice, the depth of his love and devotion laid bare in those simple words. Rising onto your toes, you brushed a sweet, gentle kiss across his lips. "And you are mine, Mairon. My heart, my home, my everything."

Mairon's arms tightened around you, holding you close as if he could absorb you into himself, two hearts beating as one. These moments of tranquil intimacy, away from prying eyes and the demands of the world, were precious beyond measure. In the sanctuary of your embrace, Mairon could simply be—not the renowned smith, the esteemed lord, but simply a husband deeply in love with his wife.

Eventually, the grumble of Mairon's stomach broke the spell, eliciting a giggle from your lips. You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, eyes twinkling with mirth. "It seems I'm not the only one in need of sustenance," you teased gently. "Come, my love. Let me feed you before you waste away."

Mairon chuckled, stealing one more quick kiss before reluctantly releasing you. "I suppose I should let you tend to my more mundane needs, lest I become too weak to properly ravish you later."

You laughed, swatting his chest playfully as you led him towards the kitchen. "Behave, husband. Or I may just let you starve."

Mairon's eyes glinted wickedly as he followed you, his gaze roving appreciatively over your form. "Ah, but what a way to go, my goddess. Perishing of hunger while feasting my eyes upon your beauty."

Rolling your eyes fondly at his silver-tongued flattery, you ushered Mairon to sit at the kitchen table while you set about preparing a light meal. The companionable silence was broken only by the occasional clink of dishware and the soft sounds of your movements as you moved about the kitchen preparing a simple meal, you felt Mairon's eyes following your every graceful movement. His appreciative gaze was like a physical caress, igniting tingles of awareness across your skin. You had to suppress a shiver of delight, knowing that if you met that smoldering emerald stare, you would likely abandon all thoughts of food in favor of losing yourself in his passionate embrace once more.

With an effort, you kept your focus on the task at hand, assembling a tray of crusty bread, creamy cheese, ripe summer fruits, and a carafe of crisp wine. Setting the spread on the table, you finally allowed yourself to meet Mairon's heated gaze as you slid into the chair beside him.

"Eat, my love," you urged softly, plucking a plump red grape from the bunch and holding it to his sculpted lips.

Mairon's eyes darkened with desire as he accepted the proffered grape, his lips brushing your fingertips in a feather-light caress. He held your gaze as he bit into the succulent fruit, a drop of juice escaping to slide down his chin. Your breath hitched as his tongue darted out to catch the errant droplet, the sensual motion sending heat unfurling through your veins.

"Delicious," Mairon purred, his voice low and rough with wanting. "Though I know of sweeter fruits I would rather taste."

A shiver raced down your spine at his suggestive words, your thighs clenching reflexively. "Behave," you chided breathlessly, though the effect was somewhat diminished by the needy flutter of your pulse. "You need to eat, husband."

Mairon chuckled, the sound a dark velvet caress. "As my lady commands." He plucked another grape from the bunch, holding it to your lips in clear invitation. "Though perhaps you would indulge me by sharing this meal, love?"

Smiling softly, you leaned forward and accepted the grape, your lips closing around the tips of Mairon's fingers in a fleeting kiss. A low hum of approval rumbled in his chest as he watched you savor the burst of sweet juice on your tongue. His emerald gaze was molten with barely restrained hunger, the kind that no mere food could sate.

You took your time with the meal, feeding each other morsels between sips of crisp, chilled wine. Each brush of fingers against lips, each heated glance and barely suppressed shiver of delight, only stoked the simmering embers of desire between you. By the time the last grape had been savored, the last piece of bread torn and shared, the air practically crackled with sensual tension.

Mairon set down his wine glass, his movements slow and deliberate. His emerald eyes burned into yours, dark with promise. "I find I am still hungry, love," he murmured, his voice a low, sensual purr that sent heat unfurling through your veins. "Ravenous, in fact." His gaze raked over you, lingering on the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the tell-tale flush of arousal staining your cheeks.

You shivered under the intensity of Mairon's hungry gaze, your body already responding to the dark promise in his voice. Rising from your chair on slightly unsteady legs, you held out a hand to your husband, a coy smile playing about your lips. "Then let us retire to our chambers, my love, and sate that hunger properly.”

Mairon's answering grin was positively wolfish as he took your proffered hand, allowing you to pull him up and lead him eagerly towards your bedroom. The moment the door closed behind you, he had you pressed against the solid wood, his powerful body caging you in as he claimed your lips in a searing kiss.

You moaned into the passionate embrace, your fingers tangling in Mairon's silken hair to pull him impossibly closer. He devoured your mouth with an intensity that left you weak in the knees, his tongue delving into your mouth seeking to dance with yours.

Mairon's hands roamed your curves as he kissed you deeply, leaving trails of fire in their wake. He palmed your breasts through the thin fabric of your gown, kneading the soft mounds and coaxing breathy moans from your lips. You arched into his touch, silently begging for more.

Breaking the kiss with a gasp, Mairon began trailing open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, pausing to nip and suck at the sensitive skin. "I've been aching for you all day, sweet one," he rasped against your racing pulse. "Craving the taste of your skin, the sound of your moans, the feel of you writhing beneath me in ecstasy."

His sinful words sent molten heat straight to your core. You whimpered, tilting your head to give him better access to your throat, as your own fingers moved from his fiery strands to cup him through his pants, relishing the low groan that rumbled in his chest as you caressed his hardening length. He bucked into your touch, his hips rolling in search of more delicious friction. You smiled against his throat before nipping sharply at his pulse point, drawing a hiss of pleasure from your husband's lips.

"I want to worship you tonight, my love," you purred, your nimble fingers unlacing his pants with deliberate slowness. "I want to taste every inch of your magnificent body, bring you to the heights of ecstasy with my mouth and hands until you are trembling and breathless with need."

Mairon growled low in his throat, his eyes flashing with feral hunger as he pulled back to gaze down at you. "You undo me, sweet temptress," he rasped, his voice rough with desire. You giggled and bit down on your bottom lip before pushing him over to the bed, until he was sat on the edge of the mattress.

Holding Mairon's heated gaze, you slowly sank to your knees before him, settling between his powerful thighs. His breath hitched as you ran your hands up the firm muscles, fingers deftly unfastening his pants fully and freeing his straining erection.

Your eyes darkened with lust as you drank in the sight of him—long, thick and perfect, the engorged head already glistening with pearls of desire. Mairon watched you through hooded eyes, his chest heaving with ragged breaths as he waited for your next move, utterly enthralled.

"So beautiful," you murmured reverently, trailing a single finger up the thick vein on the underside of his shaft. Mairon shuddered, his hands fisting in the sheets as he fought to remain still under your teasing touch.

Slowly, you wrapped your hand around Mairon's thick length, stroking him from root to tip with deliberate slowness. A low groan rumbled in his chest at the sensation, his hips lifting slightly into your touch, silently begging for more.

You gazed up at him from beneath your lashes, your own desire mounting at the sight of your powerful husband coming undone from your touch alone. Leaning forward, you placed a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the weeping tip, your tongue darting out to lap up the pearly drops of his essence.

Mairon hissed in pleasure, one hand coming down to tangle in your hair, not pushing or demanding, but simply anchoring himself to you. "Mori, please..." he rasped, his voice strained with need.

“Shhh…” you comforted, “I have you.” Mairon's fingers flexed in your hair as you slowly licked a long stripe up the underside of his shaft before taking the weeping tip into your mouth. You suckled gently, swirling your tongue around the sensitive crown and savoring the salty-sweet taste of his arousal. Mairon let out a guttural moan, his hips jerking slightly as he fought to stay still and let you pleasure him at your own pace.

Slowly, inch by tortuous inch, you took more of him into the wet heat of your mouth. You hummed around his thickness, the vibrations making Mairon curse under his breath in a language you did not know. His other hand still clutching at the sheets, emerald eyes burning into yours, glazed with pleasure and adoration.

"That's it, sweet one," he encouraged hoarsely as you began to bob your head, taking him fully into your mouth, enveloping his hard length in your wet heat. A guttural groan tore from his throat as you began to worship him with lips and tongue, taking him deeper with every bob of your head.

"Yes, Mori, just like that..." Mairon panted, his fingers flexing in your hair as you worked him with single-minded focus. His head fell back, eyes fluttering closed in bliss as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him hard. "Your mouth is divine, love..."

You hummed around him in response, the vibrations wringing another choked moan from Mairon's lips. Relaxing your throat, you took him as deep as you could, reveling in the heavy weight of him on your tongue, the musky taste of his arousal. Your own core clenched with need as you lavished Mairon's straining length with devoted attention, the evidence of your arousal dampening your skirts. Mairon's choked moans and gasps of pleasure only stoked the fire building in your veins, your body aching to feel him buried deep inside you.

But first, you were determined to unravel your husband completely with your mouth. Just as he had done to you countless times.

Pulling back until just the tip remained between your lips, you swirled your tongue around the sensitive crown, lapping up the steady pearls of arousal leaking from the slit. Mairon cursed breathlessly above you, the hand in your hair tightening reflexively as his hips strained not to buck into the blissful heat of your mouth.

"Mori...my goddess..." he groaned brokenly, his hips starting to rock gently in time with your movements, unable to stay still any longer. "So good...you undo me completely..."

Encouraged by Mairon's breathless praise, you redoubled your efforts, sucking him with increasing fervor as your head bobbed up and down his length. Your hand wrapped around the base of his shaft, pumping in time with your mouth as you worked him closer and closer to the edge. The wet, filthy sounds of your devoted ministrations filled the room, mingling with Mairon's deep moans and the racing of your own heart.

You could feel him throbbing against your tongue, his thick length twitching as his release approached. Determined to push him over that precipice, you relaxed your throat and took him fully into your mouth until your nose was buried in the coarse curls at the base of his shaft. At the same moment, you reached down to cup his heavy sack, rolling the sensitive globes in your palm.

"Mori," Mairon choked out, his grip on your hair tightening almost painfully as his entire body tensed. "I'm going to...fuck...I can't..."

Humming your encouragement, you swallowed around his length, your throat muscles massaging the sensitive tip. That was all it took to push Mairon over the edge. With a hoarse shout of your name, he came undone, his release pulsing hot and thick down your throat. You swallowed greedily, working him through the intense waves of his climax, determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from his shuddering body.

Only when Mairon collapsed back onto the bed, spent and panting, did you release him from your mouth. Licking your lips, you crawled up his body until you were straddling his hips, gazing down at him with a satisfied smile.

"My beautiful wife," Mairon rasped, reaching up to cup your face with a trembling hand. "You are to good to me." His emerald eyes glowed with reverent adoration as his thumb brushed tenderly across your swollen lips.

You turned your head to press a loving kiss to his palm. "And you fill me with such joy and pleasure, my darling husband," you murmured. "Worshiping you, watching you come undone from my attentions...it's the headiest aphrodisiac."

Mairon's eyes darkened at your words, a fresh wave of desire already stirring between your still clothed bodies. You giggled and moved to get off him so you could tease him a little bit more, trying to stoke that passion you so deeply loved to pull out of him.

He sat up, the dark look deepening at your absence but with a coy smile, you began to undress slowly, teasingly. You slowly unlaced the bodice of your gown, your fingers toying with the silken cords as Mairon watched hungrily from the bed. With deliberate, teasing motions, you parted the fabric to reveal tantalizing glimpses of your delicate skin and the very jewel he had crafted for you resting upon your breastbone.

Mairon's eyes followed the path of your fingers, his gaze burning with renewed hunger as you caressed the jewel he had crafted with such devotion. The sight of his handiwork resting against your bare skin, a tangible symbol of his claim, sent a fresh wave of possessive desire surging through his veins.

Slowly, you let the bodice fall away completely, baring your upper body to Mairon's reverent gaze. His breath hitched as he drank in the sight of you, his hands flexing at his sides as if aching to touch, to worship. You held his gaze as you reached for the ties of your skirt, loosening them with deliberate slowness. The fabric whispered down your legs to pool at your feet, leaving you bare.

The cool air kissed your heated skin, pebbling your nipples into aching buds that begged for Mairon's touch. You cupped your breasts, fingers grazing the sensitive peaks as you held your husband's rapt attention.

"Mori," Mairon growled, his voice low and rough with renewed lust. "You tempt me beyond reason." His hands flexed on his powerful thighs, as if physically restraining himself from pouncing on you and ravishing you senseless.

You bit your lip coyly, relishing the naked hunger in Mairon's gaze as you continued to tease yourself, trying to prolong this until he was feral with desire.

"Do you like what you see, husband?" you purred, trailing your fingers down your stomach to brush teasingly over your mound. "Does it please you to see your wife so needy for your touch?”

Mairon's eyes flashed with feral hunger as he tracked the path of your hand. "More than you can possibly imagine, sweet temptress," he rasped. "Seeing you touch yourself, knowing it's my hands, my mouth you crave...it inflames me beyond reason."

To emphasize his point, Mairon wrapped a hand around his already hardening length, stroking himself slowly as he devoured you with his gaze. "I ache to worship every inch of your exquisite body until you are begging for my cock. To feel your slick heat clenching around me as I make you scream with pleasure."

His filthy words sent a tingle of pleasure through your core. Your fingers grazed your sensitive pearl, eliciting a breathy gasp from your parted lips. Mairon's eyes darkened to a molten emerald as he watched you tease yourself, his own hand pumping his hardening shaft with increased urgency. The air crackled with erotic tension, your mutual arousal building to a fever pitch.

"That's it, divine," Mairon encouraged hoarsely. "Touch yourself for me. Show me how much you need my cock buried deep inside your tight little cunt."

Moaning at his filthy words, you began to circle your aching nub with deliberate strokes, your hips rocking into your touch. Your other hand continued to pluck and roll your pebbled nipple, sending jolts of electric pleasure straight to your core. Mairon groaned at the sight of you, his cock twitching in his hand as he watched you pleasure yourself for his viewing only.

Soon your finger delved between your glistening folds, gliding easily through the slick evidence of your arousal. Slowly, teasingly, you circled your entrance, biting your lip to stifle a needy moan. Mairon's hungry gaze followed every movement, his hand pumping his straining length in time with the teasing thrust of your finger.

"Ah ah, sweet one," he chided huskily. "Let me hear those pretty sounds. I want to hear every breathy moan, every desperate whimper as you fuck yourself on your fingers, wishing they were my cock splitting you open."

A shuddering gasp escaped your lips at his filthy words, your hips bucking into your touch. "Mairon," you mewled, sliding a single finger into your aching core, your velvety walls clenching greedily around the digit.

"That's it, my goddess," Mairon growled, his eyes riveted to where your finger disappeared into your dripping heat. "Fuck yourself for me. Add another finger, stretch that tight little cunt."

Whimpering with need, you obeyed, sliding a second finger alongside the first. A choked moan tore from your throat at the increased pressure, your inner walls fluttering around the invading digits. You pumped them slowly, the obscene wet sounds of your arousal filling the room and mingling with Mairon's harsh breaths as he watched you with rapt hunger.

"Look at you," he rasped, his voice strained with barely leashed control. "So desperate for me, so wanton. Fucking your fingers like a little whore, wishing it was my thick cock splitting you open instead."

His filthy words only spurred you on. “Mairon,” you whimpered. “I need you,” you pleaded, your hips rolling eagerly into your touch.

Mairon chuckled as he continued to stroke himself slower, trying to prolong his release. “I wish to see you fall apart upon those fingers first,” he growled, “Then you shall have me, sweet one, add another finger.” His voice commanded.

A needy whine escaped your lips at Mairon's command, but you were powerless to resist. Slowly, you added a third finger alongside the first two, your breath hitching at the delicious stretch. Your slick walls clenched greedily again as you began to pump them in earnest, crooking them to hit that sensitive spot that made stars burst behind your eyes.

"Oh, Mairon!" you keened, your head tossing back in ecstasy as you fucked yourself on your fingers, your thumb circling your aching pearl. "It feels so good, but I need more. I need you!"

Mairon groaned at the debauched sight of you, his cock throbbing in his fist as he fought the urge to pounce on you and bury himself to the hilt in your welcoming heat. "Look at you, sweet one," he growled, his voice rough with barely restrained lust. "Fucking yourself so desperately, your pretty cunt dripping for my cock. Such a wanting little goddess, aren't you?"

"Yes," you whimpered, grinding down harder on your fingers, chasing the release that hovered just out of reach. "Only for you, Mairon. I'm only ever this needy for you." Your fingers still working desperately inside, bringing up the coiling tension as his words spurred you on.

"That's it, my divine temptress," Mairon growled approvingly, emerald eyes burning with molten hunger as he watched you chase your pleasure. "Fuck those fingers harder, let me see you shatter. Then I'm going to ravage that body until you forget everything but my name.”

His filthy promises combined with the relentless pumping of your fingers sent you hurtling towards the edge. Your walls fluttered wildly around the plunging digits, your pleasure cresting higher and higher.

"Mairon, I'm going to..." you keened desperately, grinding your aching nub against your palm as your climax approached.

"That's it, come for me," Mairon commanded, his deep voice strained with lust. "Scream my name as you fall apart, let all of Arda know who makes you shatter."

With a final, desperate thrust of your fingers, you came undone, Mairon's name tearing from your lips in a ragged scream of ecstasy. Your walls clamped down on your plunging digits, fluttering wildly as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed over you. You rode out the high, gasping and shuddering, barely registering Mairon's groan of approval over the rushing of blood in your ears.

Slowly, you came back to yourself, withdrawing your slick fingers from your still spasming core. Your gaze found Mairon's, your eyes glazed with satisfaction and lingering need. Mairon's eyes flashed with feral hunger as you approached, your glistening fingers extended in offering. Without breaking eye contact, he captured your wrist, guiding your slick digits to his sculpted lips. A low rumble of approval vibrated in his chest as he took your fingers into the wet heat of his mouth, his tongue swirling around the digits, lapping up the essence of your arousal.

You shivered at the erotic sight, a fresh wave of desire pulsing through your already sensitive core. "Mairon," you breathed, your voice husky with renewed need.

He released your fingers with a final, sensual lick, a wicked smile curving his lips. "Breathtaking," he purred, eyes molten with lust. "But I think I need to taste you from the source."

Your breathing hitched at his carnal promise, desire flooding your veins anew. "Please, husband," you whimpered, aching for his touch. "I am desperate for your attention.”

Mairon growled low in his throat, the sound primal and possessive. In a flash of movement, he had you pinned beneath him on the bed, his powerful body caging you in. You gasped at the sudden shift, your heart pounding with anticipation as he loomed over you, sea-foam green eyes blazing.

"I'm going to devour you, sweet one," he rumbled, his voice a dark promise against your lips. "I'm going to take in every drop of that sweet nectar until you're withering, begging me to fuck you senseless."

A shiver raced down your spine at his filthy words, your core clenching with desperate need. "Yes, Mairon,”

Mairon's lips crashed against yours in a bruising kiss, swallowing your needy whimper. His tongue delved past your parted lips to claim your mouth with searing possession, igniting the flames of desire through your veins. You surrendered to his passionate onslaught, your fingers tangling in his fiery locks to anchor him to you.

Tearing his lips from yours, Mairon began a slow, sensual descent down your body, his mouth blazing a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses along your flushed skin. He paused to lave attention on your breasts, drawing each aching nipple into the wet heat of his mouth, suckling and nipping until you were arching into his touch, breathy pleas for more falling from your lips.

"Patience, my love," Mairon purred.

His lips blazed a scorching trail down your body, alternating between reverent kisses and sharp nips that had you arching again. He paused to dip his tongue into your navel, swirling around the sensitive hollow and drawing a gasp from your parted lips. Your fingers tangled in his silken hair clenched, torn between urging him lower and simply holding on for dear life as he took you apart with his wickedly talented mouth.

After what felt like an eternity of sweet torment, Mairon finally settled between your thighs, his broad shoulders forcing them wider to accommodate him. You trembled in anticipation, your glistening folds mere inches from his pillowy lips. Mairon inhaled deeply, a low rumble of satisfaction vibrating through his chest.

Mairon's gaze flickered up to meet yours, molten emerald eyes bright with feral hunger. "I could drown in your essence, worship at the altar of your pleasure for eternity and never tire of it."

A shiver raced down your spine at his reverent words, a fresh gush of arousal coating your already slick folds. "Mairon," you whimpered, rolling your hips in shameless offering. "Don't tease me any longer. I need your mouth on me."

He flashed you a wolfish grin, clearly pleased by your wanton desperation. "As my goddess commands."

With that, he lowered his head and swiped his tongue along your glistening slit in one long, firm lick, from your dripping entrance to your aching pearl. A strangled cry tore from your throat at the exquisite sensation.

Mairon groaned against your slick folds, the taste of your arousal on his tongue more intoxicating than the finest wine. "Love," he growled, eyes flashing up to meet yours, glazed with lust. "You were made for my worship."

Before you could formulate a response, he sealed his lips around your throbbing pearl, suckling greedily. A choked scream of pleasure ripped from your throat, your back bowing off the bed as he lavished your sensitive nub with skillful flicks and swirls of his wicked tongue. Your fingers tightened in his fiery locks, holding him where you needed him most.

Mairon devoured your aching core like a man starved, his lips and tongue worshipping your sensitive flesh with unrestrained hunger. He lapped up your flowing nectar, savoring every drop before delving his tongue deep into your fluttering channel, mimicking the act he craved. You sobbed his name, your hips undulating against his face, silently begging for more.

"Please..." you whimpered, your voice breaking on a needy keen as he thrust his tongue in and out of your clenching heat. "I need you inside me."

With a final, greedy lick, Mairon pulled back just enough to meet your pleading gaze, his lips and chin glistening with your essence. "Soon, my divine wife," he promised darkly, his voice rough with lust. Mairon replaced his tongue with two thick fingers, sinking them knuckle-deep into your fluttering heat and scissoring them to stretch your inner walls. "I need to prepare this sweet cunt to take my cock. You're always so deliciously tight for me, I have to make sure you're ready.”

You cried out sharply as his fingers pumped into you, your hips rolling to meet each thrust. The obscene squelch of your arousal filled the room as he worked you open, his lips returning to your aching clit. He suckled the sensitive nub as his fingers curled inside you, finding that spot that made stars explode behind your eyelids.

"Oh gods, Mairon, yes!" you wailed, your inner muscles clenching greedily around his plunging digits. "Just like that, my love. Don't stop!" you begged, your voice strained with desperate need as Mairon's fingers drove you closer and closer to the precipice of ecstasy. The coil of pleasure in your core wound tighter with each masterful thrust and swirl of his tongue, your body taut as a bowstring ready to snap.

Mairon hummed against your throbbing pearl, the vibrations sending shockwaves of bliss rippling through your quivering form. He could feel your impending release in the telltale flutter of your inner walls around his pumping fingers, your essence flooding his palm as he pushed you towards that exquisite edge.

"That's it, sweet one," he growled, his voice muffled against your slick folds. "Give in to the pleasure. Let me feel you shatter on my tongue."

His filthy encouragement, the relentless thrusting of his fingers, and the skillful swirls of his tongue were all you needed. With a keening wail, you shattered, your climax crashing over you in blinding waves of ecstasy. Your inner walls clamped down rhythmically on Mairon's plunging digits, your slick release coating his hand and chin as he worked you through the intense peak.

"Mairon!" you sobbed, your body writhing beneath his dedicated ministrations. "Oh gods, yes!"

Mairon growled his approval against your quivering center, prolonging your pleasure with deep thrusts of his fingers and firm licks of his tongue against your pulsing pearl. He greedily lapped up your flowing nectar, drinking down your release as if it were the sweetest of wines.

Mairon continued his sensual onslaught, determined to wring every last drop of ecstasy from your shuddering form. Only when the final aftershocks ebbed did he slowly withdraw his fingers from your fluttering core, releasing your oversensitive pearl with a final, gentle lick. You collapsed back against the pillows, sated, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath.

"Truly divine," Mairon purred, pressing reverent kisses along your trembling inner thighs as he crawled up your body. "Watching you come undone on my tongue, feeling you pulse around my fingers... there is no sweeter bliss."

You managed a weak, breathless laugh, reaching for him with shaky hands. "I think you may be biased, husband."

Mairon's lips curved in a wicked smirk as he stood to his full height, his deft fingers making quick work of the remaining fastenings on his clothes. His emerald eyes, dark with lust, never wavered from yours as he bared himself to your hungry gaze. Your breath caught at the magnificent sight of him—all lean, sculpted muscle and smooth, creamy skin decorated with a sprinkle of reddish freckles. His thick length stood proud against the thatch of dark copper curls, his engorged head already glistening with pearly essence—each part of him was masculine perfection, a true work of art crafted by the Valar themselves.

"Biased, perhaps," Mairon purred, stalking towards the bed with predatory grace. "But can you blame me? When presented with such exquisite perfection, how can I not fall to worship?"

You shivered at his heated words, a fresh pulse of desire thrumming through your veins. Biting your lip, you continued to drink in the magnificent sight of your husband bared before you, desire simmering in your veins despite the lingering tremors of your release. Mairon preened under your appreciative gaze, clearly reveling in the hunger darkening your eyes.

"See something you like, sweet one?" he purred, his hand drifting down to wrap around his impressive length, stroking languidly from root to tip.

Your eyes tracked the sensual motion of Mairon's hand on his shaft, your tongue darting out to wet your suddenly dry lips. "Very much so," you breathed, heat pooling in your core anew at the erotic sight. "I'm not sure I'll ever tire of admiring your exquisite form, husband."

Mairon chuckled, a low, husky sound that sent delicious shivers racing down your spine. "Nor I yours, my exquisite wife." His eyes glinted with wicked promise as his gaze raked over your sprawled form, taking in every curve and dip laid bare for his perusal. "And I fully intend to worship this temple of perfection."

A needy whimper escaped your lips at his bold declaration, your glistening thighs clenching together in a vain attempt to ease the ache building once more between them. Mairon's eyes darkened at the telling motion, a knowing smirk tugging at his sensual lips.

"Already desperate for more, wife?" he purred, crawling onto the bed with feline grace. "Even after I've just wrung two exquisite climaxes from this needy little body?"

You mewled helplessly as Mairon settled his powerful form over yours, his thick length nestling against your slick folds. "Always, my love," you breathed, arching into him wantonly. "I'll never stop craving your touch, your worship."

Mairon groaned, dropping his head to the crook of your neck as he rolled his hips, coating himself in your slick essence. "Nor will I ever stop craving you, Mori," he rasped against your racing pulse. "This perfect body, this pure soul...you are my heart's greatest treasure."

He punctuated his fervent words with a sharp nip to your throat, soothing the sting with a reverent swipe of his tongue. You shuddered beneath him, your nails raking down the flexing muscles of his back as he rocked against you, teasing you both with the promise of unity.

"Mairon, please," you whimpered, hitching your legs high around his waist, opening yourself fully to his possession. "I need you...I need to feel you inside me, claiming me, filling me..."

A low, approving growl rumbled from Mairon's chest at your wanton plea. "And you shall have me, sweet one," he purred, his voice a dark promise against your kiss-bruised lips. "Every thick, hard inch, splitting you open, claiming you so thoroughly there will be no mistaking who you belong to."

With a sinuous roll of his hips, Mairon notched the broad head of his cock at your entrance, teasing you both with the barest hint of penetration. You keened high in your throat, your fingers scrabbling for purchase on his sweat-slicked skin as you tried to urge him deeper. But Mairon kept his movements maddeningly shallow, eyes burning into yours, savoring your desperate need.

"Beg for it, Mori," he commanded huskily, his own control fraying at the edges but still hanging on by a thread. "I want to hear you plead for my cock like a needy little whore."

You nearly sobbed at his filthy demand, pride and inhibition long since abandoned in the face of your all-consuming need for him. "Please, Mairon," you keened, your hips undulating against him in shameless offering. "Please fuck me, fill me, claim me. I need your thick cock splitting me open, pounding into me until I can't tell which way is up or down. Make me yours, husband, ruin me for anyone else!"

Mairon snarled, a feral sound of satisfaction, and with one mighty thrust of his hips, Mairon sheathed himself fully inside your welcoming heat. You cried out sharply at the sudden intrusion, your back arching off the bed into him as he stretched and filled you so perfectly, just on the delicious edge of too much. Mairon groaned long and low at the exquisite sensation of your velvety walls gripping him like a vice, hot and slick as your delicate walls fluttered around his aching length.

"Gods, Mori," he growled, holding himself completely still, buried to the hilt to allow you both a moment to adjust to the intense sensation. "Always so fucking tight for me. Like this sweet cunt was made just to sheath my cock."

You whimpered, your inner muscles clenching around him involuntarily at his filthy praise, wringing a harsh grunt from Mairon's lips. Slowly, he began to move within you, withdrawing almost fully before slamming back home, setting a deep, driving rhythm that stole the breath from your lungs. You clung to his broad shoulders, meeting each powerful thrust with a roll of your hips, the obscene sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the room.

"Yes, Mairon!" you cried, your head tossing back in ecstasy as he pounded into you, hitting that secret spot within you that made your vision white out. "Just like that, my love."

Mairon growled his approval, his fingers digging into the plush flesh of your hips hard enough to bruise as he pistoned into your welcoming heat. "Mine," he growled, punctuating the word with a particularly sharp thrust. "This perfect body, this pure heart—all mine. No one else will ever touch you, worship you like I do.”

You sobbed in ecstasy as Mairon's words inflamed your desire, the erotic pain/pleasure of his punishing grip on your hips only heightening the intensity of every driving thrust. "Yours," you agreed breathlessly, the truth of it resonating in your very soul. "Always and only yours. I belong to you, Mairon, body and soul. Now and forever!”

Mairon made a sound that was half growl, half groan, his pace increasing until he was rutting into you with near brutal force. The headboard slammed against the wall with each powerful drive of his hips, the bed frame creaking in protest, but you were too lost in sensation to care. All that existed was the exquisite slide of his thick length in your fluttering core, the delicious drag of his heavy sack against your sensitive skin, the electric sparks of bliss each time the thick head of his cock struck that spot inside you with unerring precision. The overwhelming pleasure built and built, your body drawn as taut as a bowstring, quivering on the precipice of rapture.

"Mai-Mairon, I'm close!" you sobbed, your walls beginning to flutter wildly around his pistoning length. "Please, my love...I need..."

"I know, sweet one," Mairon growled, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release, determined to feel you shatter first. Bracing a hand on the creaking headboard, he gripped the wood hard to support his movements as he snaked his free hand between your sweat-slicked bodies to find your aching pearl. He circled the sensitive nub with firm, deliberate strokes, perfectly timed with the relentless pounding of his hips.

The added stimulation was all you needed to unravel. With a keening wail of Mairon's name, you shattered into the mattress, your climax crashing over you in blinding waves of ecstasy. Your inner walls clamped down on his thrusting length, fluttering and milking him with rhythmic pulses as your release flooded your veins with liquid bliss.

"There you go," Mairon roared, his pace turning erratic as his own end fast approached. "Come all over my cock, sweet one. Drench me in your pleasure!"

He worked you through your intense peak, his fingers never ceasing their skillful circling of your throbbing pearl, drawing out your rapture until you were sobbing incoherently, utterly lost to the maelstrom of sensation. Only when the last aftershocks had wrung themselves from your quivering form did Mairon allow himself to surrender to his own pleasure. With a final, mighty thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, a hoarse shout of your name on his lips as his climax overtook him. You mewled weakly as you felt his thick length pulsing within you, painting your fluttering walls with spurt after spurt of his hot seed. Mairon's hips jerked and rolled, working himself through the intense waves of his release until he was spent and trembling above you.

Panting harshly, Mairon collapsed against you, his face buried in the sweat-dampened crook of your neck as you both fought to catch your breath. You clung to him, your limbs heavy and sated, your body still fluttering sporadically around his softening length. Tender kisses were pressed to whatever overheated skin you could reach.

As the haze of passion slowly ebbed, Mairon lifted his head from your neck to gaze down at you, his green eyes soft with reverent adoration. He brushed a few sweat-dampened strands of hair from your brow, his touch infinitely gentle despite the passionate force of his lovemaking mere moments before.

"Moríel, my heart," he murmured, his voice husky with emotion. "You undo me so completely, in body and soul. I am forever at your mercy, my goddess."

You smiled up at him, your own eyes shining with the depth of your love and devotion. Cupping his face in your hands, you drew him down for a slow, sweet kiss, pouring every ounce of affection into the tender brush of lips.

"As I am at yours, my sweet husband," you breathed against his mouth. "Without you, I would be lost."

Mairon returned your tender smile, his expression one of pure love and contentment. Carefully, he withdrew from your warmth, both of you sighing softly at the loss of intimate connection. He shifted to lay beside you, gathering you into his strong arms and tucking you securely against his chest. You melted into his embrace, relishing the comforting heat of his skin, the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your cheek.

For long moments you simply held each other, basking in the afterglow of your passionate joining, the profound sense of completeness it always brought. No words were needed in these quiet moments—your love, your devotion, was an unspoken understanding, a bond that transcended the physical.

Eventually, Mairon broke the comfortable silence, his fingers tracing idle patterns along the dip of your spine. "I wish we could stay like this forever," he murmured.

You hummed in contented agreement, nestling even closer into Mairon's comforting warmth. "Mmmm, that sounds heavenly," you murmured drowsily, your eyelids already growing heavy in the hazy aftermath of your lovemaking. "Just you and me, entwined like this for all eternity, with no responsibilities or cares beyond pleasing each other."

Mairon chuckled softly, the sound a deep, soothing rumble beneath your ear. "A tempting notion, to be sure. Though I fear we would soon exhaust ourselves, insatiable as we are." He pressed a tender kiss to your hair. "And loath as I am to be parted from you for even a moment, I must admit there is a certain thrill in stealing these moments amidst the chaos of our daily lives. It makes our time together all the more special.”

You smiled against Mairon's chest, trailing reverent fingers over the defined ridges of his abdomen. "I suppose you're right, my love. As much as I adore losing myself in you for hours on end, there is something deliciously illicit about sneaking away for a passionate moments, knowing we must soon return to our duties." You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, a mischievous glint in your eye. "It adds a certain...urgency and intensity to our lovemaking."

Mairon's emerald eyes darkened, a wicked smirk tugging at his sensual lips. "Mmmm, indeed it does, my love. Perhaps I should whisk you away to some hidden place sometime, have my wicked way with you until you're breathless and trembling, knowing we could be discovered at any moment."

A delicious shiver raced down your spine at Mairon's salacious suggestion, the idea of a passionate tryst in some secluded alcove igniting a fresh spark of desire in your veins. "Careful, husband," you purred, walking your fingers teasingly up his chest. "Keep talking like that and we may never leave this bed."

Mairon chuckled, a low, husky sound that vibrated pleasantly against your cheek. "And that would be a hardship...why, exactly?" he quipped, his hand drifting lower to palm the curve of your rear.

You giggled, swatting at his chest playfully. "Behave, you insatiable man. As much as I would love to spend the rest of the night lost in your arms, we both have duties to attend to in the morning." You sighed wistfully, pressing a kiss over his chest.

"As always, you are the voice of reason, my love," Mairon conceded with a rueful smile. "Though I still maintain that a day spent worshipping your exquisite form is a day well spent, duties be damned."

You laughed softly, shaking your head at his incorrigible nature. "And I would be inclined to agree with you, were our responsibilities not so pressing. But alas, we cannot shirk our roles, tempting as it may be."

Mairon heaved an exaggerated sigh, though the playful twinkle in his eye belied any true exasperation. "I suppose you're right, as usual. The price we pay for being productive members of society." He pressed a lingering kiss to your brow. "But I fully intend to steal you away at the earliest opportunity, wife. The next time our schedules align, but for now lets rest.”

Laughing softly, you reached up to kiss Mairon's lips tenderly. "I look forward to it, husband. A whole day sequestered away in your passionate embrace sounds like paradise."

Mairon smiled into the kiss, his arms tightening around you as if he could bind you to him for all eternity. "With you, my heart, anywhere is paradise."

You sighed contentedly, your own arms winding around his trim waist to anchor yourself to his comforting warmth. Tucking your head under his chin, you allowed your eyes to flutter closed, the steady drum of Mairon's heartbeat and the soothing caress of his fingers through your hair lulling you towards slumber.

For a time, you simply held each other in comfortable silence, your breaths slowly syncing as sleep crept in on velvet paws to claim you. But just before you succumbed completely to slumber's siren call, Mairon's low, melodic voice drifted through the hazy veil of pending dreams. "I love you, Moríel," he murmured, his lips brushing your hair in a ghost of a kiss. "More than all the stars in the sky, more than life itself. Never doubt that."

"And I love you, Mairon," you breathed, the words slightly slurred with impending sleep but no less heartfelt. "For all eternity, in this life and the next."

Mairon held you close as you drifted off to sleep, marveling at how your skin seemed to shimmer in the moonlight filtering through the gossamer curtains. In repose, your beauty was ethereal, otherworldly—as if the Valar themselves had crafted you from starlight and dreams. He couldn't resist trailing reverent fingers along the delicate curves and dips of your body, committing every inch to memory.

You were his greatest masterpiece, his magnum opus—a work of art to be cherished and worshipped for all eternity. He relished these quiet moments when he could simply admire you, uninterrupted by the demands of the waking world. In sleep, you were his and his alone, untouched by any other's gaze or affections.

His mind wandered as he caressed your skin, thoughts flitting between memories of your passionate lovemaking and plans for the future—a future with you forever by his side. He pictured stolen moments like these stretching out into eternity, an endless honeymoon of passion and devotion. Perhaps one day, when the world was less turbulent, he could spirit you away to some hidden paradise, where you could spend your days lost in each other, far from prying eyes and responsibilities.

The thought brought a soft smile to his lips. Yes, someday he would make that a reality. But for now, he was content to hold you close, to bask in the warmth of you in his arms and the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his own.

As drowsiness began to tug at his own consciousness, Mairon pressed one last tender kiss to your brow before allowing his eyes to drift closed, secure in the knowledge that you would still be nestled safely in his embrace come morning's light.

#sauron x reader #sauron #mairon x reader #mairon #trop fic #rings of power fic

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merrybloomwrites · 2 days ago

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Walk Through Fire For You

Summary: When a post-show party takes a bad turn, your bandmates are there to keep you safe.

Word Count: 1.9K

CW: reader getting drugged

AN: Stress wrote this during the first half of the Super Bowl. And I’m posting from my phone so I’m sorry if it’s formatted weird. Liam’s tribute at the Grammys last week made me want to write a protective comforting 1D x reader story so that’s where this came from.

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It’s rare that you and the other members of One Direction go out and party after shows, but occasionally, it does happen.

Tonight is one of those times. You’ve just finished night 2 of 4 at Madison Square Garden, and you have a day off tomorrow before doing it all again the following two nights. You’re all so pumped, this being your first time performing at the iconic venue. Management allows you to go out to celebrate, knowing you and the boys need to let off a little bit of steam.

There are strict rules to follow when you all go out, and while it seems annoying, you know that it’s really for your safety. While management doesn’t necessarily care about you all as actual people, they do need you safe so you can keep performing and making them money. So it may not be the best intentions, but you have to admit, they’re good rules.

Well, mostly. As the only girl in the band, you have a few extra conditions to follow. You need to maintain an innocent appearance, so no getting wasted, no wearing skimpy clothing, and absolutely no going home with anyone. And while you would hold yourself to those standards anyway, it’s annoying that you’re being forced to by these old men. Or well, middle age you guess. But old to you.

You’re in the middle row of the van with Niall and Liam, while Harry, Louis, and Zayn are in the back. You’re all still feeling the high of the performance, and are being quite loud and rowdy. The diver is definitely relieved when he arrives and the six of you file out of the car and into the club.

You all start with a round of shots to loosen up and get the night going. As always, you and Louis opt for vodka drinks, and the other boys each grab a mixed drink as well. Hitting the dance floor, the six of you stick close while enjoying the vibes from the rest of the people there.

Finishing your first drink you lean over to the others and say, “I’m gonna go pee, be right back.”

Without waiting for a response you make your way through the crowd. You’re relieved when you get to the hallway, and take a deep breath of air. There’s a bit of a line so it takes a few minutes, and you start talking to the girls around you. They’re fans of One Direction, but surprisingly chill. It’s always nice to meet fans, especially when they just have a normal conversation with you.

Finally it’s your turn so you do your business and then stop at the bar. The same girls are there so you talk to them a bit more while waiting for the bartender to get you your drink. Once you have it you make your way back to the boys. Each of them has clearly found a partner in your absence, so you slowly sip your beverage and dance with the people around you.

After some time, you start to feel a bit dizzy. You assume it’s because of the drinks, but you really haven’t had that much. You know you can handle your liquor. And it’s not a normal tipsy feeling either. Your heart starts racing, and your hands begin to shake. Everything around you starts getting fuzzy.

The boys are still dancing, and you don’t want to bother them. You decide to leave, just get back to the hotel and sleep off whatever this is. You pull out your phone to call your driver as you stumble through the crowd towards what you assume is the front door.

You get turned around, and find yourself back by the bathrooms. It’s taking everything in you to concentrate and get yourself out of here.

“Hey, you okay?” Looking up you see a guy, roughly your age and seemingly harmless.

“I’m fine,” you attempt to answer, but your words are slurred.

“Woah, you don’t seem fine,” he says, his hands moving to your waist to steady you.

Your instinct is to step away, and you try, but you stumble and he remains in your space.

“Let me help you,” he says.

“No, I’ll just find my friends,” you try to say.

“You can barely walk. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Your mind is screaming at you to get away from this man, but you can’t get your body to cooperate. You want to get back to the boys, and you wonder where the hell security is. And then you realize, your security guards are definitely stationed around the building. If you can get outside they can intervene and help you.

“I need some air,” you say.

“Okay, I’ll get you outside.”

He wraps an arm around your waist and you fight the urge to shove him off of you. While he seemed safe at first, you no longer trust him. The only boys you’d trust right now are your bandmates. As this strange man leads you through the main room, you try to find them. Finally, you lock eyes with Zayn. He sees the look on your face and immediately gets the rest of the guys.

The five of them surround you, and even though they’re all tipsy themselves, they stand firm.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going with her?” Louis asks.

“She wants to come home with me,” the man answers.

“Like hell she does!” Niall exclaims.

“Let go of her,” Harry says. He steps forward, standing right in front of this stranger, towering over him. The man finally listens, his hands leaving you and causing you to stumble. Luckily Zayn is there, and you lean against him as he wraps a protective arm around you. Liam stands beside you as well and says, “C’mon, we’re going.”

The six of you make your way outside, now also surrounded by your security. You file into the van, and you're now in the second row with Zayn and Louis on either side of you.

“Are you alright?” Zayn asks.

After taking a few deep breaths you manage to squeak out a “No.”

“Did you have a lot to drink?” Niall questions from behind you.

“No. Just the shot and a drink. I sipped a second one but only had a little,” you explain through slurred speech.

“And that’s when you started feeling bad?” Harry asks, and you nod yes.

“Shit. Shit! We need a hospital,” Harry shouts out to the driver, causing you to wince at his raised voice.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” Liam asks.

“She’s been drugged,” Harry states.

“Oh, shit,” Niall exclaims.

“That’s what I said,” Harry murmurs.

Louis wraps his arm protectively around you, and you willingly melt into his side. He’s always been like a big brother to you, and right now you need the comfort that he can give you.

“You’re okay, love. We’ve got you. You’re safe.” Louis remains calm and holds you close, and you focus on the beating of his heart.

The world continues to spin around you, and you keep your eyes closed since you get nauseous every time you open them.

“C’mon, let’s get you checked out,” Zayn says beside you as you arrive at the hospital.

“Don’t wanna. Just want to go to bed,” you mutter.

“I know, but we just need to make sure you’re okay,” Liam adds.

Louis helps you out, Paul walking with the two of you, and you’re confused why the rest aren’t following.

“But. Where? The others?” you manage to ask.

“Only two people can go with you,” Louis answers your broken question.

Louis stays by your side the whole time. They do a blood test to confirm what’s in your system, and the police show up to take a statement, but luckily they work quickly. There isn’t much they can do for you, just some IV hydration to get you feeling a little better, and then you’re discharged.

The rest of the boys are still waiting in the van outside, and you feel calm when you’re surrounded by them once more. It’s a quick drive back to the hotel, and the whole group heads up together.

Everyone stands awkwardly outside the door to your room. They’re all waiting to see what you want.

“Stay with me?” you ask, not looking at anyone.

“Who?” Liam questions.

“All of you. Please.”

“We’re here. We’re not going anywhere,” Niall states.

“I’ll have them send up a couple of cots,” Paul says. “And I’ll be right outside, all night.”

The six of you file into your room.

“I want to shower,” is the first thing you say. You grab your pajamas and head into the bathroom, and take a hot shower, scrubbing your skin raw. You dry off, get dressed, and do your bedtime routine. When you get back to the room, the boys have all changed and gotten ready for bed as well.

“How are you feeling?” Liam asks.

“I’m okay. My head hurts. And I just feel weird. You know, violated in some way.”

“Here, this will help with the headache at least,” Niall says. He hands you water and painkillers as well as your favorite snack food.

You sit on your bed and eat your snack so you can take the medicine. The others are all watching you closely so you say, “Guys, I’m good.”

“Are you?” Harry questions.

You take a moment to think and reply, “I am. It was scary, but I’m okay. Nothing bad happened. I’m okay.” Your voice shakes at the end as you think of what could have happened if you didn’t have the boys there to protect you.

Louis sits on the bed with you and wraps you in a warm hug. His gentle touch seems to open the floodgates, and you begin to cry. Within seconds, the others surround you, holding you and giving you time to feel your emotions.

“I hate this,” you finally say as Zayn wipes away the last of your tears. “I hate that this happened, and that people are so shitty and scary.”

“Men suck,” Niall deadpans, making you laugh for the first time in hours.

“That they do,” Liam agrees.

“You guys are men,” you point out.

“Nah, we’re you’re bros,” Zayn says.

“Oh my gosh, never say that again,” you reply with another laugh.

“Let’s get some sleep,” Liam says, noticing how heavy your eyelids have become.

He and Zayn move to the other bed, and Niall gets comfortable on one of the cots.

You don’t release your grip on Louis, so he knows to stay put. Harry doesn’t try to move either, and you notice the way he’s holding on to you, and how worried he looks.

“Can I sleep here?” He asks and you quickly reply, “Of course.”

They settle on either side of you, holding you tight like you’d disappear if they let go. It’s clear that this has shaken everyone. You sleep restlessly, and each time you wake up you notice one of the boys is up as well, checking on you.

You absolutely hate that this all happened, and you’ll forever be grateful for these boys who protect you and care for you. With them by your side, you’ll always be safe and loved.

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AN: Thanks for reading and I hope you have a good day!

#harry styles x reader #one direction fanfiction #one direction x reader #louis tomlinson x reader #niall horan x reader #zayn malik x reader #liam payne x reader

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seoul-bros · 2 days ago

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Jikook Week 61 Complete ✔️ (04/02 - 11/02/2025)

Jikook have finalized their 61st week in the military and it's time to look back at this week in 2022. It was an extremely complicated year for BTS. They knew well in advance that military service was coming and in the first six months of the year, continuing as if it was business as usual didn't sit right with them, as I think Namjoon and Jimin expressed very well in the Festa dinner.

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They were all under a lot of pressure and I suspect that the company did very little to relieve that and may have even added to it especially for Jungkook who had been marked for glory since their debut.

"Jungkook wasn't very confident but I had a strong conviction that he had a lot of potential" Bang PD on BTS Monuments

BTS were on an extended break after their intense schedule in the US at the end of 2021. Jimin was admitted to hospital on 30/01 suffering from the double whammy of acute appendicitis and COVID 19 and was operated on the next day.

During his recovery period he sent various Weverse messages to reassure the fans including these on 03/02 (SK time) and on 05/02 the day he was discharged.

He spent the next few days resting at home. In the early hours of 09/02 (in SK) he watched The Notebook for the seventh time (still don't get what he sees in that movie - Nicholas Spark does absolutely nothing for me) and then apparently kept on going with another movie (Weverse message). Wouldn't it be perfect if that film turned out to be Like Crazy (getting inspiration for FACE even then).

The next evening after various exchanges with ARMY on Weverse he posted a cryptic, "I'm happy".

So it was rest and recovery all the way for Jimin but what was Jungkook up to this week? These were the heady days when JK was prolific on Instagram and his posts came in fast succession almost like a flow of consciousness.

As infant ARMY, everything was fascinating and everything had to be pored over and reflected on in great detail. Even so, I've never really come to any firm conclusions about what was going on - except JK was going through something and the way he processed it was, unsurprisingly, through music.

On 03/02, JK posted his cover of Hate Everything

Had a perfect picture in my head, With you in the most beautiful dress I look happy as ever How did I let you go again?

Now I'm standing alone in the rain. Like the kinda movie that we used to hate. Wish I could take back the time. But I know this time it's real.

Hate that I'm singing this song. I hate that I have to be strong. Hate that you're gone. I hate all my flaws. Hate that you love someone else Hate everything. Just hate everything. Right now

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Then 05/02 he posted this dance video to these lyrics of Teyana Taylor's Bare Wit Me

On 06/02 he posted three sound clips on Instagram.

Roses by Finn Askey - "Hey, Rose I bought you five roses, won't you come to my show? Show you how to live life, yeah, you know you're fucking gold Give you all my time if you wanna take it slow Your soul is lovely, uh"

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2. Too many feelings by Ruel - "I let out too many feelings, shit, I should've kept in. Probably should've left 'em all unsaid. Didn't wanna scare you, just wanted to be near you. Wanted you to hear what's in my head You know, I'll take it back if , You take me back too, too"

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3. Audrey Nuna - Space - "Don't make me the one to say it Don't make me the one to say it 'cause I can't come down I'm only human now I just need some Space, space, space"

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On 07/02 he posted Even Days by 03ohn - "Any of the days, any of the words, Even the day we said goodbye"

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So he was posting a slew of break up songs 💔 one after another with regret combined with inevitability as the central theme i.e. "I love you but I'm feeling the pressure and I'm not sure I can be the lover that you want me to be".

On 08/02 he posted Never Change by Jeremy Passion with the lyrics "There is a place where both of us belong, But as of now we just have to be strong"

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and he ended the week with the decidedly more upbeat Takes Two by Fiji Blue on 09/02 and the lyrics, 'Cause all I want is you, is you It takes two 'Cause all I want is you, is you It takes two"

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Could this outpouring be related to jikook? Well if you believe they are together and have been for many years you could certainly ask yourself that question.

All long term relationships have their ups and downs and that is without having to deal with the spotlight of global superstardom, a kpop idol culture which requires stars to "appear permanently available" to their fans and the don't ask, don't tell approach to same sex relationships in SK. We know that Jimin was struggling at the time so perhaps it isn't too far fetched to think that Jungkook would also be struggling to help or to cope.

All I can say is that the next time we saw them together during the Seoul Permission to Dance concerts and in the BTS Monuments scenes filmed on the 13/03/2022 (according to Jimin's fridge) they appeared as united as ever.

So even if this was about them by mid March 2022 they had come to some agreement on how to move forward - together.

Post Date: 11/02/2025

#jikook #bts in the military #jimin #jungkook #bts in 2022

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natsuki208 · 2 days ago

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Mikasa Ackerman! Strongest Girl With That One Flaw

Today is that day when I can express once more of how much of a Mikasa defender I am! But despite all the good, I will acknowledge the major flaw that caused many to dislike her as well, and unfortunate ruined her character going onward.

(Plz, I don’t wanna see any of you haters here for this girl on her special day, thank you)

We all know of Mikasa’s strengths; figuratively and literally. She’s known as one of the manga/anime’s strongest fighters, due to her Ackerman blood and what she had to go through as a child. It was because of both her power and compassion is how she managed to save citizens of Trost to escape the city in S1. She showed signs of a dependable soldier.

One other noticeable side of her character that got explored a lot more within the story was her connection with Eren, and that divided a lot of the fans as the series went on. On one hand, it reflects back to when Eren saved her from being sold for profit and how much his kindness meant to her, but on the other hand, it slowly started to isolate her from other important aspects needed to keep her interesting.

But it wasn’t all that bad; to me that is. There have been times when Mikasa showed worry for her other closest friend Armin, protecting him and comforting him during hard times, swung in to save Historia and Sasha from titans, checked on Connie by asking if he’s okay, and even was concerned about Levi’s ankle.

So yeah. Mikasa grew connections with almost everyone around her, opening up to have more friends within her small circle since her childhood, however, her feelings for Eren started to overlap those friendships. Not that it is a bad thing, I love how the two grew closer as the series went on but it really shouldn’t be the only important part of her development. A healthy mixture of all her traits would’ve made a better experience.

Sadly, the concept of her undying love for Eren gets heavily exaggerated in the dreaded fourth season.

By that I mean for most of her screentime she spend worrying about Eren and only him. Sure there was… Sasha, but it didn’t really last for very long. In fact, she didn’t really speak much to anyone other than Armin afterwards, and I thought she’d be more open to help them out with their own struggles.

In fact, her love for Eren seemed to have made her more fragile to his own thoughts as well, like when he spoke his mind and pretended to admit he hated her, she got over emotional.

(this is the same girl who didn’t hesitate to punch him in the face when he went too far)

But at the end of the day, it didn’t really matter since she managed to save the world by killing Eren with her own hands but still has him at the front of her mind years later. Yes, it can be hard to move on but at least show some scenes of her bonding with her other friends, even leaving Armin in the dust.

Anyway, happy birthday, you poor girl. You deserved much better. Not as in Eren, but as in better writing to expand your character. I had a lot more to say but I don’t wanna make this too long. Maybe I’ll update this later on.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #mikasa ackerman #eremika #appreciation post #character appreciation #birthday girl #poor girl :(

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koyagifs · 2 days ago

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𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒆

pairing: yoongi x reader au: | idol genre: | fluff word count: 0.6k synopsis: when yoongi returned home from his d-day tour, he knew then and there that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. warning(s): -

Yoongi let out a slow breath, the hum of the van's engine lulling him into a light doze. His body ached, the adrenaline of performing night after night finally wearing off, leaving nothing but bone-deep exhaustion. But despite the fatigue pressing down on him, there was a quiet warmth in his chest—a sense of fulfillment.

The tour was done. The fans had been incredible. The moments on stage had been unforgettable. But more than anything, he just wanted to go home. Home to you.

He shifted slightly, his phone vibrating in his pocket. A small smirk tugged at his lips as he pulled it out, already knowing who it was.

Y/N: You better not be asleep yet.

His fingers moved lazily over the screen.

Yoongi: I’m trying, but you keep texting me.

Almost immediately, another message popped up.

Y/N: Good. Stay awake. I’m waiting for you.

His heart clenched a little. He hated being away from you for so long. He had wanted you by his side during the tour, but he understood. You had your own dreams to chase, just as he had his. And he loved that about you.

With a sigh, he let his head fall back against the seat, fingers tightening around his phone. Just a few more hours. He could make it.

The thought of seeing you—of finally wrapping his arms around you, feeling your warmth, breathing you in—was the only thing keeping him awake.

And when he finally walked through that door, all the exhaustion in the world wouldn’t stop him from pulling you close and holding on like he never wanted to let go.

You were buzzing with excitement, moving back and forth in you and Yoongi’s home, unable to sit still. Your heart raced every time you checked your phone, counting down the minutes until he walked through that door. It had been months—too long since you last saw him in person.

You had watched every livestream, every fancam, every behind-the-scenes clip just to feel closer to him while he was away. But none of it compared to actually having him here, in your arms, where he belonged.

The familiar sound of a car pulling up outside had you freezing mid-step, your breath catching in your throat. You barely gave yourself a second before rushing to the door, hands trembling as you reached for the handle.

And then, there he was.

Yoongi stood there, looking exhausted but smiling, his duffle bag hanging off his shoulder. His hat was pulled low, dark circles under his eyes, but the moment he saw you, his whole face softened.

"Hey," he murmured, voice raspy from travel and lack of sleep.

You didn’t even give him time to say anything else before launching yourself at him, arms wrapping tightly around his waist. He let out a small ‘oof’ but chuckled, dropping his bag to hug you just as tightly, burying his face in your hair.

"You're home," you whispered, voice thick with emotion.

He hummed in response, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. "Yeah. Finally."

His body felt warm, solid, real. You could hear his heartbeat against your ear, steady and strong, and for the first time in months, everything felt right again.

"Missed you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, reaching up to cup his face. "Missed you more."

His lips quirked up slightly. "Impossible."

You laughed, tugging him inside before he could start falling asleep on his feet. You had all the time in the world to catch up, but for now, you just wanted to hold him close and remind him that no matter where he went, he always had a home to return to.

And that home was you.

#bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader fluff #yoongi fluff

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volturiprincess · 2 days ago

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Bae Bae

Felix Volturi x fem reader

Summary: A gift to him Warnings: A slight mention of death but its not deep, my inner thoughts come through�� A/N: I know I haven't posted a ton lately, ill do a separate post about that but the way I had a sudden inspiration for this one was like being on cloud 9. I wasen't sure if I wanted to post this today but i thought hey I need to keep you darlings feed🫶🏼. The song inspiration for this one was "Bae Bae" by Big Bang.....Enjoy💙(Demetri will be next) Word Count:1924

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Everything seemed dark, I would look at the stars at night and wonder why they did not shine for me? Everyone always talked about how bright the stars are, how they alone are a source of light in the dark sky. And the worst part was people would compare the stars to their loved ones. Love, a word I avoid in my life. As I live my life day by day, I would see endless people in love, with their significant other, their special person, their other half. You can say I did envy that, yet I was reminded that I don't have anyone.

Did I crave that feeling for affection and love? To love someone and to get the feeling in return? To learn to depend on someone and to not be so independent? Of course I did, I would have to be heartless not to have that craving. Still I have my days where I don't want to be with people, I don't want to be out in the world. I want to be contemplating my existence in life, what is it that I need to do to get out of this weird haze?

So what do I do? I sit by a cute little cafe. I find myself going more often than I would like to admit, sketching on my notepad drawing anything that my little mind comes up with. Words sometimes do not work for me but drawing is like a nice cup of coffee, currently what im drinking as I sketch. There are not even perfect sketches, it looks like a child drew them but I like to think it's abstract art. It has no deep meaning, its only significance is my mind.

More recently my drawings have been more specific, I seem to define my lines more, it has more specific outcomes. I have been focusing more on what I want to draw, and I can proudly say I know what it is. I find myself delicately drawing my scenery, I might draw what my table contains, a cup of coffee, books, sometimes a pastry that feeds my sweet tooth. I have even grown bold to draw people, ones that might be sitting outside of the cafe or ones that just stand around.

But I don't draw faces, no I have not had the patience for that quiet yet. The young lady who works at the cafe sometimes comes by the table I have claimed, to ask me what I am drawing.

“My mind”

She looks at me with a confused look but gives me a small smile as she walks away to help another customer. She asks me that question every time I come by, and everytime I give her the same response. How has she not gotten tired of asking that? I sometimes grow tired at work repeating the same old lines of ‘would you like a receipt’ or my favorite one where I have to force a smile when deep down i'm so tired and down in the dumps and say “have a great day”. It sounds hypocritical to me because I'm telling someone else to have a good day when I can't seem to have one myself.

I get a lot of customers who have a certain someone in their life, which seems fitting since I do work at a flower shop. They rush in trying to find the ‘perfect’ flowers to give them, they usually go for the roses but there are ones who want to ‘spice’ it up.

Back to my current state I was sketching a strangely gorgeous man. I always see him when I come to this cafe and always in the same spot. I think he has been my sudden inspiration to want to draw more specific things. He sits by the shade, leaning back on his chair that seems a bit small for the big man he is but he gently reads a book. He seems like a fan of Edgar Allan Poe because he is currently reading a book with just his short stories. I have that book, my version is filled with annotations and sticky notes filled with reactions on certain parts I catch myself re-reading.

This man has such a stoic and blank face that makes me wonder how he can keep a straight face while reading Poe’s stories. Maybe he has read it more times than I have because I still find myself doing faces in certain parts.

I focus more of my energy on his posture, he has one leg crossed over his knee and his left elbow rests on the table since he is sitting by the table and not forward holding the book. I never knew someone could look so elegant sitting down in a casual posture. The way sometimes the air would blow some of his dark locks out of his face only to go back resting on his forehead leaves me mesmerized.

He is in his own world like I find myself, and that intrigues me. Strangely though he never orders anything to consume while he is there, the same young lady who talks to me goes up to him. I have never actually managed to hear his voice but he does give her a small smile just like she does.

I started to feel a bit…irritated when he gives her that smile. Why should I feel that irritation? I don't know him, or his name, or even heard his voice and yet I can feel that green eyed monster creep in slowly. Is this behavior normal? Why should I feel like this? We are not together, he is not mine, nor am I his. I don't even know what his favorite color is. My wild guess would be black because he seems to wear those colors the most. But that is just making assumptions, I wear a lot of black too and yet my nails are a bright pink that has a nice shimmer to it, that's my favorite color.

As I'm about to finish the sketch of his broad shoulders, he's gone. My eyebrows furrow as I do a quick skim of my surroundings. He moves fast.

“You have quite the talent, little flower”

My eyes popped open as I felt my back stiffen and the pencil I had in hand fall to the ground. That voice…deep with richness, made my tired eyes fill with awareness and energy. I turn slightly to meet with the man I've had my focus on this afternoon looking at me with an amused look. That emotion sure does fit him perfectly, he was made to be smiling. As I gaze up at him, any function of knowing how to be a human flew out. He walked around my table to sit in front of me, my gaze never leaving him as he moved.

“What? Surprised I'm talking to you after weeks of never doing so?”

I nod, which makes him chuckle at my lack of words. How can I even when the man I have unfortunately fallen for is talking to me for the very first time?

“I was working up the courage to talk to you for a while now, but your beauty intimidated me”

My beauty? Oh what a charmer he is. I have never been called beautiful before, never been complimented before, not even my own parents have. None of that mattered after this handcrafted handsome species of a man has flattered me with his words.

“Your quite the charmer, I thought you were going to be cold and stoic”

His cute smile turned into a smirk. “Well, am I not full of surprises today?”

“What gave you the sudden courage to talk to me?”

“I've been catching your eye every once in a while and then you would furiously be in your sketchbook, I thought for sure you were interested in me, am I wrong?”

So he’s been watching me in return, yes I'm mortified that he's noticed I've been noticing him but at the same time I'm more intrigued in how he managed to spot my eyes on him when he was deeply engrossed in his book.

“How did you manage to catch my eyes?”

“How can I not catch your eyes? The sun gives you a little spotlight that makes you look like a fallen angel while it also accentuates each of your facial gestures, you almost made it impossible for me to focus on my daily reading”

“You almost sound like a stalker”

“Well sue me for liking a lady”

I smile at his comment. “You like me?”

“You have no idea little flower how lovestruck you have me, you are a natural beauty, inside and out”

I felt my cheeks heat up with warmth as I feel like a fish out of water trying to understand how this man, who I don't even know his name yet, has a way with words. At this moment it feels like if we have known each other for years now, the way I can talk to him with such comfort for days, if time will permit me, is so abnormal for me. I have never been “a people person”, I tend to be a bit more of an introvert and it takes me a while to grow comfortable with people. But right now, with him, that is a whole other story.

“Care to give me a name? I need to know the name of the man who is wooing me”

“Felix, and your’s little flower?”

“Y/N”

“What a beautiful name”

I look at Felix for anticipation as he looks up from my journal. I just finished writing my first short story and I based it on us. It was meant as a gift for Valentine's day but my excitement got the best of me. I wanted to focus more on my perspective of how I felt when I met him and what my thoughts were before I met him too. I haven't told him yet only snips but I knew from the start I wanted to do this for him.

He finally speaks which eases my nerves a bit.“You know how you say you are not good with words”

“Yes?”

“My flower, you have such a way with words, I love reading your inner thoughts because I might not be able to actually read yours, reading this makes me feel I am able to”

I wanted to cry but I kept myself together, Felix…what can I say about him…he knows what to say to make me feel like i'm the only breathing soul, he treats me like the center of his universe. I always say to myself what did I did in my past life that life decided to give me a sweet loving man like Felix as a reward. I must have died the most gruesome way or suffered tremendously if it means I got such a happy life now with this giant.

“So you like it then”

“I love it”

He crushes me into a deep hug as I bury my face into his chest, now that we are the same temperature, me and Felix don't have to wear sweaters when we hug. I can feel his warmth that always leaves me craving for more.

You’re a natural beauty, so unique, so unique. My perfect dear, be my muse. We’re so comfortable together….My body wraps around yours so perfectly…I'm drunk with your scent, getting hazy again. Don't get plucked away, please.

Lyrics from 'Bae Bae' by Big Bang

#felix volturi #felix volturi x reader #the volturi #the volturi guard #twilight fanfiction

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winchestergirl2 · 13 hours ago

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Oohh, I do like these headcanons 💕💕

Dean

"I'm find"

"Sure you are, baby," you say with a smirk. "You're in the primb of libe."

😂😂 love the Friends reference.

As you might expect, Dean is not an easy patient.

I feel like the only one who would be worse than Dean as a patient would be Ben.

He knows that you care about him. That you love him. But this is one of those moments where it hits him, just how much.

Aww 😍 this is such a sweet moment.

Beau

He tries to get out of bed but has to pause, his head swimming. He takes a couple of steadying breaths while sitting on the edge of the bed.

Aww, my poor Beau Beau.

It earns a small smirk on your face. It seems like his man flu hasn't yet deprived him of his sense of humor.

Ahh, his sense of humour is still intact.

You can already tell this man is going to settle into you taking care of him just fine.

Haha, I can see him liking that. I think with Beau it would take a lot for him to stop and let someone take care of him, but when he does I think he might be the kind of patient that drives you a little crazy in his requests. Like the soup, the saltines, the tea, the blanket, and the cough drops, lol.

This is exactly how I picture him when he's ill. Not wanting to admit defeat and still trying to make his jokes and lighten the mood, but actually being quite a needy patient.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

He's a sourpatch grumbly patient who only begrudgingly stays put in bed when you ask him to.

He's going to be the world's worst patient, isn't he? Although I can see him quite liking the fact that his girl is looking after him.

That whole 'I'm buying you a yacht for Valentines Day' bit made me laugh.

Boaz Priestly

Priestly!!! Love that you have added him in 😊

You brush back his for once un-gelled hair back from his face. It's weird to see it all limp and lifeless, slightly damp with sweat.

Oh, you know it's bad when the hair is flat like that.

Priestly struggles to think. He takes your hand and rubs it back and forth across his chest. Maybe your sweet, loving touch has the power to clear away his congestion without him needing Vicks. Too minty.

I kinda have to agree with him there... it's good stuff but not really a fan.

He's such a whiny baby when he's sick.

Oh yeah, I can absolutely see that.

"Know what would really make me feel better?" he hedges. He tries to guide you down to him by tugging on your hand, but you resist him.

So he's not so sick that he's not thinking about that then 😂

He turns his head and coughs roughly into his arm. Your amusement fades into concern and sympathy. You lay a hand over his chest while he struggles.

Poor Priestly... Man Flu is no fun.

"Well, maybe it's time there should be something on this finger," he murmurs.

Ooohhh, it's not the most romantic time to be thinking about that, lol. I think I would also be wondering if he meant it or was just delirious with fever.

I loved all of these, and I would definitely risk the flu to look after all these men... especially Beau and Priestly.

HEADCANON: Man Flu

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader || Beau Arlen x Reader || Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader || Boaz Priestly x Reader

HC: When Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Boaz Priestly get sick, how would they act when you (try to) take care of them?

AN: After reading I Got You by @bettystonewell (Dean x Reader) and The Best Kind of Medicine by @lamentationsofalonelypotato (Soldier Boy x Reader), I realized that I've never actually written a sick-fic before. Here it is in headcanon form, since you guys seem to like these! lol 💜

Also adding Priestly to this lineup for the first time because some of you have been requesting more of him recently. 😉

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, hurt/comfort, sick-fic, some needy affection-starved men who don't want to admit they're needy, lots of fluff.~

Dean Winchester

He's not sick. Because he doesn't get sick.

Dean claims he has the constitution of a horse, but you still take the beer out of his hand before he can take a sip at 10:00 a.m.

He's too busy interrupting himself, namely by coughing half a lung, wheezing, blinking teary eyes -- the whole phlegmy nine yards.

Sam shakes his head, casting you a look that frankly says, Good luck.

He knows his brother is stubborn as hell, and one of the things Dean dislikes most is being fussed over for "no reason." Being seen as weak. Not being able to just shrug his shoulders and shake it off.

To be fair, Dean tries. Except this time it's accompanied by a body shiver and a reluctant sniffle. His pallid face is drawn, and his usually strong and solid frame looks unsteady as he leans a hand on the War Room table.

"Okay, come on, Rambo. Let's get you back into bed," you say, guiding your boyfriend back to the room you share with him.

"I'm find," he insists, even as he begrudgingly accepts the gentle pressure of your hand on his back and shoulder, pushing him down to the bed.

"Sure you are, baby," you say with a smirk. "You're in the primb of libe."

Dean shoots you a narrowed look. Damn you for forcing him to binge-watch all those episodes of Friends late at night when you both can't sleep.

Right now he's Monica, trying to convince you he's in tip-top shape, while you're Chandler, just trying to get him to use tissues instead of his flannel sleeve to wipe his runny nose.

After taking his boots off, you get him to change out of his jeans and back into his sweatpants. Then you manage to get him to lay down under the covers with the promise of coming back with medicine and soup.

"I don't want soup, damn it," he grumbles. You just roll your eyes and rub his arm.

"Just rest. I'll be back with the Vicks."

As you might expect, Dean is not an easy patient.

He refuses to drink tea, but he does down the pills you bring for him, with a measured toss of his head that still makes his head swim. He groans.

He swallows a couple of cautious spoonfuls of the soup, pausing when he realizes that its warmth actually feels good down his sore and scratchy throat. It tastes pretty good too, especially with the warm, buttered slices of bread on the side.

"You made this?" he asks.

"Mhmm," you nod, smiling. If nothing else, good food will pacify this man. "Chicken and wild rice, made especially for you."

"Hmm. S' good," he nods in reply. He manages to finish the bowl.

He has to admit, if just to himself, that he does feel like shit.

He won't admit that the way you're rubbing his back, the gentle pressure of your nails between his shoulders and down his spine relaxes him, makes him feel better.

He knows that you care about him. That you love him. But this is one of those moments where it hits him, just how much.

It's a little overwhelming. A heavy swell of pressure fills his chest, so he tries not to let himself think about it for very long.

(He fails.)

After he's done eating, you take the plates away and help him back into bed. You linger there, slipping your fingers through his soft brown hair and pressing a kiss to his clammy forehead.

"I really need you to rest, okay," you say quietly. "If you need anything, just text me or Sam. Don't get out of bed."

Dean grasps your hand before you can move away from him. Since you're probably going to wash your hands anyway, he lays a kiss on the back of your hand.

"Thanks, sweetheart."

Beau Arlen

Sheriff Beau Arlen is the type to run himself into the ground because he's so damn into his work.

He wants to do well in his station of responsibility, and he feels like he has to make up for his performance during the summer madness of Buck Barnes and Avery...and everything in between.

You just have to make Beau realize that he needs to slow down, before he well and truly burns himself out.

You put your foot down one morning.

He tries to get out of bed but has to pause, his head swimming. He takes a couple of steadying breaths while sitting on the edge of the bed.

You notice with a frown. "Hey, you okay?"

"Fine. Just fine," he answers a little too breathlessly. He raises a hand to his head. His throat is sticky and coarse. He wrinkles his nose when he also feels a sneeze coming on.

"Just need a...a...mugh-ah-ha-hugh."

His coughing sneeze makes you grimace. You didn't even know someone could sneeze and cough at the same time.

"Aw, babe. You're sick," you say as you move over to him, resting a hand on his back. He shakes his head and groans.

"Nah, can't be sick. Gotta lot of work to do today," he says. His voice is like gravel blended with broken glass. It would actually be sexy, if for the distinctly un-sexy way he tries to clear the great wad of phlegm from his throat.

He tries to rock himself onto his feet, but there he sways on the landing. You hurry out of bed to grab his arm and steady him.

"Oh no, you don't. Back into bed," you say.

"Aw, sweetheart. I'll be fine--"

"No. Lay down. You're not going in today," you say more firmly, all while you tuck the man back into bed with the blankets covering him.

"All right, all right. No need to be so pushy," he can't help but tease.

It earns a small smirk on your face. It seems like his man flu hasn't yet deprived him of his sense of humor.

"I thought you liked that though," you reply. You sit on the edge of the bed and rub his chest. He groans in defeat.

"Can't believe this," he grumbles. "Today of all days--"

"There's always going to be another case. This is your body telling you that you need to slow down," you tell him. "So how about this. I'm gonna call in one of my sick days, and we'll bunker in together."

You stroke his bearded cheek. He quirks a smile, grabbing your hand and squeezing warmly.

"How long until I'm allowed out, warden?" he asks.

"Until you can stand without keeling over," you dryly reply. A smile tugs at your lips. "Remind me to stop by CVS to grab you a Life Alert."

"All right, har har haugh--" His sarcasm ends on a very real, wheezing cough. Your amused smile drops. You relent from your teasing and stroke his chest once more.

"Okay, just rest. Let me get you some actual medicine and I'll be right back."

He stops you by grabbing your wrist. "Hey, uh...can I have some chicken noodle soup later?"

"Of course, baby. I'll swing by the store now and get some stuff for you."

"And some saltines?"

"Saltine crackers on the side. Got it."

You're about to head to the bathroom to brush your teeth before you start getting ready to go to the store, but once again, Beau's needy hand stops you.

"Before you go, some tea with honey and lemon would be good. Just something for my throat," he croaks.

You smile and nod. "Yeah, for sure. That'll be better for you than coffee."

"Oh, and can you gimme that quilt over there?" he asks, pointing to your favorite knitted blanket at the edge of the bed. You graciously lay it over his form and drop a kiss onto his forehead.

"And some cough drops. Thank you, darlin'," Beau adds.

Your lips begin to press together, but you nod and continue getting dressed.

You can already tell this man is going to settle into you taking care of him just fine.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Neither of you thought it was possible, considering his super genes that allowed him to eat and booze and drug harder than Andre the Giant and Keith Richards put together.

But one day, your over six-foot super soldier goes down hard. The warning signs came the night before, when you could hardly sleep with the way he was snoring like a grizzly bear.

In the morning, he wakes bleary-eyed with a runny nose and a coughing fit hard enough to shake the bed.

"Fuck," he groans, dragging a hand over his face before he turns onto his back. "This's gotta be some kind of bullshit hangover."

You move over to him in bed and feel the intense warmth of his clammy forehead. Your brows draw together in concern.

"No, I think you're sick."

"Not possible," he grumbles. "I haven't been sick since..."

Well, since he was a kid, probably. He won't admit it, but he's surprised he still has that memory lodged in the back of his mind.

It comes to the forefront now: your hand on his cheek unknowingly mimics his mother's gentle touch, her soft, kind voice.

"Aw, my sweet boy. Let's get you feeling better."

He can almost recall the floral scent of her perfume, echoes of it in the shampoo you use.

Ben claims he's fine, that he doesn't need your help or want the medicine and tea you bring for him. (He tries the tea, grimaces, and spits it out when you're not looking.)

He's a sourpatch grumbly patient who only begrudgingly stays put in bed when you ask him to. He doesn't mind lying around and watching movies all day, not to mention episode after episode of Below Deck. It reminds him that he wants to get back into boating.

"Hey, sweetheart," he calls to you from the bedroom, his voice croaking all the while. "I'm getting you a yacht for Valentine's Day. You want it all white, or throw in a bit of gold? Actually, check out this one with the navy trim."

You roll your eyes to yourself when you step back into the room. You're carrying a tray with a large bowl of soup and a fifth of whiskey. He claims the latter will help soothe his throat, and you don't have the heart to argue with him when he's clearly feeling so shitty.

"You mean you're getting you a yacht," you reply wryly. "We live in the city. Where the hell would we put a boat?"

"In a yacht club, where it belongs," Ben retorts. He hooks an arm around your waist and peruses what you've brought him on the tray. He doesn't look all that interested.

"Look, I know you're not exactly a soupy kinda guy, but this'll make you feel better," you say.

"Why can't you put some fucking steak in it or something?" he grouses. He tries and fails to hide another wet cough.

"Why can't you just eat what I lovingly made, just for you," you snipped back.

He rolls his eyes at your attitude, but he pipes down. In that silence, he's conceding that you have a point. There was a time were all he had to do was glance in someone's direction, and there'd be some fucking moron to fulfill his every whim.

Now, you're probably the only one in the world that would actually do what you're doing...

Cooking for him, putting your heart into it, for the simple reason that you do care.

Ben takes the bowl of soup from your hands. Raising a brow, you offer him the spoon as well.

He eats without further complaint.

You smile and reward him with a sweet kiss on his forehead, brushing his hair back as you do so.

"See? That's not so hard, huh?" you can't help but needle him. "It's okay, baby. I'll take care of you."

He eyes you dryly, but he won't admit that there's a different kind of warmth coiling in his chest.

Boaz Priestly

"Uuuughhh, babe," he groans. "I feel like death on toast."

You're standing beside the bed with a smile playing on your lips. You brush back his for once un-gelled hair back from his face. It's weird to see it all limp and lifeless, slightly damp with sweat.

"Unironically, I should make you some toast," you reply. "What kind of medicine do we have?"

Priestly unearths his head from under his pillow to look up at you with miserable red-rimmed eyes and a sniffling, stuffy nose. "Can we count the tequila in the mini bar?"

"Maybe later," you laugh. "How are we on groceries?"

"We have that pastrami I brought back from the shop," he says.

"That's six days old already," you shake your head.

"Aw, that's still good," he argues. "But uh, other than that, I think I have half a cheeseburger left from last night."

Last night's date at TGI Friday's, he means.

You heave a sigh. "Okay, clearly I'm going to the store. You just stay in bed and rest. Drink your tea."

He grimaces like a child. "I don't like tea."

"I know you don't like tea, but you need to drink it. It's good for your throat and your immune system."

He groans and flops back over onto his stomach. You bite your lip against a smile. He's such a whiny baby when he's sick.

Talk about Man Flu.

"Come on, be a good boy for me," you say, smacking him lightly on the ass. "Soon enough you'll feel better."

A smile creeps across his face where it's pressed against his pillow.

"Know what would really make me feel better?" he hedges. He tries to guide you down to him by tugging on your hand, but you resist him.

"Oh, no. You're not gonna get your germs all over me," you say.

"Hey, what happened to in sickness and in health?" he croaks. Even while under the weather, he's still plenty strong enough to grapple with you. He manages to yank you down. Laughing, you stumble into a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Huh, I don't remember exchanging any vows. You see a ring on this finger?" you tease, flashing your bare hand in his face to try and distract him and weasle out of his grip. "I can jump this ship anytime I want."

Priestly pouts. His arm hooks tighter around your waist. "Huh, guess you got me there..."

He turns his head and coughs roughly into his arm. Your amusement fades into concern and sympathy. You lay a hand over his chest while he struggles.

Once again, he clasps his free hand over yours. He glances up a bit hesitantly into your eyes.

"Well, maybe it's time there should be something on this finger," he murmurs.

You blink your eyes wider. Your head tilts, wondering if you just heard him right. Is this delirium fever talking, or is he serious?

"O-Oh yeah?" you ask.

Priestly tries to gauge your reaction. Seeing your face break out into a cute, shy smile raises the corners of his lips. Hope blooms in his chest, right beneath your hand.

"Yeah," he says, trying to clear his cracking throat. "I mean, if you're okay with that. If it's not too soon--"

You slip your fingers over his plush, chapped lips, and your smile brightens.

"When you're feeling better, you can ask me that question properly."

AN: 😆 I hope you liked the first ever addition of Priestly!! It was so fun to try and write him again (it's been a while lol). Feel free to imagine this vignette in the same storyverse as The Miracle Man and Code Red.

But I also hope you enjoyed the "Big 3," as I call them, even though Russell is starting to give Beau a run for his money on one of those slots. 😂 Let me know which guy you had the most fun reading on this one! 💜

And if you want even more fluff before Valentine's Day, check out my friend @waynes-multiverse who just posted her set of V-Day headcanons with Dean, Soldier Boy, Beau, and Russell: Headcanon: Valentine's Day 💕

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Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Beau Arlen Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Boaz Priestly Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean, Beau, Soldier Boy + Priestly Tag List

@kazsrm67 @foxyjwls007 @luci-in-trenchcoats

@mostlymarvelgirl @thebiggerbear @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester

@deans-spinster-witch @sanscas @mxltifxnd0m @hobby27 @kaleldobrev @spnwoman

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @pieandmonsters @globetrotter28 @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean

@lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @spnfamily-j2 @deansbbyx @chernayawidow

@mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @twinkleinadiamondsky

@my-stories-vault @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof @cookiechipdough @mrsjenniferwinchester

@fromcaintodean @k-slla @jackles010378 @deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused

@mrlonelycat @deans-daydream @leigh70 @aylacavebear @kmc1989

@siampie @rubyvhs @winchestergirl2

#fic rec #dean winchester headcanon #beau arlen headcanon #soldier boy (ben) headcanon #boaz priestly headcanon #dean winchester x reader #beau arlen x reader #soldier boy x reader #boaz priestly x reader

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