#but if this is even close to true that only gives more hope!

[zepskies]

Aww thanks so much, friend!! (lol even SB can offer his own version of comfort. 😂)

That's so normal too with pregnancy! We can be our own worst enemy sometimes, but definitely rock those beautiful curves, hun. 😘💗 (LOVE that Joey gif!!!! loll)

Giving me full PTSD here, girl 😂

God I'm so sorry. 😭 Honestly I was using my own PSTD here, so you're not alone. 😅

And yep, that's always the worst when your partner eats so much crap and does not gain an ounce. Like, how?! Are you magic???

Right?!?! This is such a thing with men in particular I think, not just Dean lmfao.

Sobbing 😭 He so would do that! And honestly, love doesn't give a shit about looks. I mean, at some point, we all will be wrinkly and saggy, so you better hope there's more there than looks 😅🤷‍♀️

Gah, I'm so glad you agree! 😭😭 Exactly!! Of course attraction matters, but real, true love gets to the core of a person and doesn't just consider how they looked when you first met one another.

Bury me in a ditch... 🫠🫠

lmfao girl I'll hop in with you. 🤣

Lovely 😆 Oh, Beau! Sweet, sweet Beau... I can so see him and reader getting their wires crossed, and him not even registering it while she quietly suffers 🙈 I feel like that happens a lot to couples, though, when times get a little stressful and busy. Loved the realism of this!!

lolll that visual right? 😅😅 But busy Beau I thought made sense with him getting lost in a case at times, and yeah I agree -- I feel like something like this could very easily happen when couples have been together for a while. Life can just pass you by, but this was a big reminder for Beau. 💗

Poor, tired Beau, though, now dealing with a crying and upset reader 😂 (Do you think he retrospectively wished he would've just let her hop on for a quick ride? lmao)

lmao I'm sure he does!! Though consequently he's now wide awake. 💀

DEAD 💀 Also 💯 agree with this SB headcanon 😂😂 And weirdly, I thought from the start that Ben would probably mind the least of all of them if his partner put on a few extra pounds. If grannies don't scare this man, weight certainly won't either lol (His answer was perfection 😂😘)

ahahaha thank you, lovely!!! YES that was my HC too! I feel like Ben's not only "seen it all," but the granny thing would definitely expose him to some cellulite and stretch marks. I don't feel like a bit of extra weight is gonna deter him from some good pussy. 🤣🤣

But so on point for him to be jealous at first and accuse her of cheating 🙈 I also wonder how long she got away with it, considering that man's sex drive.

Ben has absolutely no chill! 😭 I can't imagine she'd get away with it for very long -- maybe a few weeks at most LOL.

Loved all of them so much, friend!!! 🩵🩵🩵

Aww thank you!! I appreciate you, friend. 🥹 This set of HCs hit close to home for me, and seeing as it did for you too, I'm very glad you enjoyed them. 💕💕

Headcanon: Body Insecurity/Appreciation

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Beau Arlen x Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

AN: This one was requested by one of my lovely Patreon members, @roseblue373. 💜 It's a special one to me personally, being plus-sized myself and having gone through my share of insecurities. Wish I had one of these guys to make it better lol!~

Prompt/Request: Great job with the latest Dean/Beau/Ben reacts vignettes! I'd love to see one where reader has put on weight and isn't happy with their body, and how each would make her feel better!! IF the muse agrees, of course! ❤️

HC: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to your body insecurity.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Established relationship, body insecurity (but also body appreciation), thicc thirty, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, spiciness/smuttishness.

Dean Winchester

You've started breezing past mirrors when you get out of the shower.

Because if you catch sight of your own reflection, you can't help but utter a sigh, your lips dipping into a frown.

In the privacy of the room you share with Dean in the bunker, you take a risk in unwrapping the towel from your body in front of the mirror.

You inspect yourself with growing dejection, noting all the places that are rounder, heavier, less firm than they used to be.

Looks like no amount of running down leads and killing monsters has been enough to keep you in shape.

Too much shitty fast food, too many times you indulged yourself with snacks and dessert alongside your foodie boyfriend.

"What'cha doin', sweetheart?" Dean asks. He steps into the room while wiping donut icing from the corner of his mouth.

Speak of the devil.

When Dean finally catches you frowning at yourself in the mirror, you inhale sharply and close the towel back up.

"Nothing. Just need to get dressed," you reply quickly. "Shower's open."

You try to offer him a smile, despite the pang of jealousy when you eye him.

He gave you the first chance at the shower after the latest case wrapped up, so he's still wearing most of his FBI suit, sans jacket. The white dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows, a few days of scruff neatly trimmed across his cheeks.

The man can cram an entire pizza down his gullet and wash it down with three slices of apple pie, not to mention countless beers. And still, Dean stays looking downright edible.

By comparison, you feel...fat. Like you've let yourself go.

You turn away from him to grab your well-worn sweatpants and an oversized shirt; you plan to change alone in the bathroom, but Dean grabs your arm.

"Who says you need to get dressed?" he says, popping his brows with a suggestive grin. He slips his arms around your waist, but your instinct is to shy away from his hold. You chuckle awkwardly and avoid his now curious gaze.

"Sorry, babe. Um...I'm wiped. I just want to get to bed," you say.

But Dean isn't fooled. His spidey sense is tingling, and his gut is almost never wrong.

His hand slides down your arm and grasps your hand, tugging you back into his arms. You utter a little gasp, but you ultimately smile at his familiar grin. There's a perceptive gleam in his eyes though.

"You know, seems like you've been pretty wiped lately," he says, raising a brow. "It's been a while since we, uh..."

He waggles his brows playfully, squeezing your hips. You want to smile, but you can't let yourself. You can't quite look at him either.

For Dean, it's another glaring red flag. His lips form a frown, and he dips his chin to find your eyes.

"Hey," he says. "What's goin' on? Talk to me."

His tone is so sincere, you have to blink against the sting of tears. Your lower lip wobbles, and Dean frowns in earnest. He presses a hand to your cheek and gets you to look at him with your watery eyes.

"Sweetheart, you gotta tell me what's wrong," he says, more gently, but serious.

Eventually, you're able to get it out. You can't bear the thought of him touching you, because lately, you can't even bear looking at yourself.

"I know I've been gaining weight, I just..." your voice breaks, and you gesture haphazardly at your body. "I'd get it if you're not really into this right now."

Dean's heart clenches. He's downright shocked at your confession, and more than a little disheartened. He presses a hand to your cheek and guides you to look at him.

"All right, hold up just one damn minute."

His calloused fingers gently brush away your tears, but his hands keep moving, slowly traveling down your body. They slide down your bare arms, skimming the sides of your breasts.

Your breath hitches. Your hand is still fisted over your beating heart, keeping your towel closed. His hands continue to move, molding to the curve of your waist over the fuzzy fabric.

"I'll admit, we've been pretty busy lately with everything we've got going on. But if you think that means I'm ever not into this delectable, sexy, voluptuous, goddess body you got rockin' the house?" he says, grinning that utterly Dean grin of his.

You bite your lip against a bubble of laughter. He's too fucking much sometimes.

Dean tugs you closer, until your hips fit snugly against his through his slacks. His tall, broad frame crowds you. His lips skim your cheek, then over your lips in a tease.

He squeezes the flesh of your hips, tender and sensuous.

Your heart flutters at the feeling.

"Mmm, I like you nice and soft," he murmurs against your cheek, close to your ear. "Feels that much better when I fuck you."

A small gasp gets trapped in your throat, while the gravel depths in his voice go straight to your pussy in a pulsing throb of warmth.

By the time he claims your lips in a devouring kiss, you're all too willing to let him peel your towel open, drop it to the floor, and guide you backwards onto the bed.

There he'll take his time, forging yet another mental map of every plush square inch of you.

Beau Arlen

Beau is a busy man. You understand that.

As Sheriff, his job demands a lot from him. He's also a father and has an ex-wife to contend with. (You knew that going in, and you've come to love Emily too.)

However, you can't help but start to take it personally when your sex life begins to suffer. He's often claimed being tired...but there's another suspicion that's been taking root in your mind, feeding your doubts and insecurities about how your boyfriend sees you, and about how you see yourself.

When you slip into bed at night, a kiss goodnight is all he gives you lately, before he's sighing deeply and closing his eyes, his soft snores soon filling the room.

One night, you try touching his shoulder, leaning in to kiss his bearded cheek. He hums at the pleasant feeling.

"You wanna...?" You trail the question in his ear, pressing more sweet kisses down his neck.

"Aw, sweetheart," he groans. "I'd like to, but I think I'd just smother you. I'm about to pass out."

You huff a laugh. You teasingly walk two fingers across his chest. "What if I make it easy for you?"

You shift onto your side. Resting a hand on his chest, you lean down to kiss him. He hums at the softness of it, but the more passion you try to imbue into each new kiss, Beau isn't as responsive as you would like. Eventually, you stop all together.

You frown, becoming disheartened. "You're not into this, I guess."

He opens his tired eyes, gazes up at you in apology. He opens his mouth to reply, but you beat him to it.

"You know it's been a month since we've had sex," you say.

Beau frowns, sliding a hand up your back. Only now does he notice, with appreciation, the familiar silky négligée you're wearing.

"Nah, that doesn't sound right," he says.

"Well, it is," you say. "I know you say you're tired, but I mean, you've had this job for as long as I've known you, Beau." Your eyes fall away from him. "So is it the job, or...is it me?"

Beau's brows furrow. "Now wait a minute."

The mere thought dredges up what's been plaguing your mind recently, and it has your throat tightening. Tears of embarrassment and upset well up in your eyes, no matter how much you try to push it down.

You push away from him and turn away, crossing your arms. You try not to look at yourself in what used to be your favorite lingerie.

You can't stand the extra weight you've put on, mostly in your hips and ass, but in your middle and arms too.

You've gone through your own stress at work this year, with less and less time to try and take care of yourself, along with making sure Emily gets to and from school, cooking for the three of you, going to PTA meetings when Carla can't make it (since Beau often can't), and every other proverbial hat you wear.

Beau follows you, sitting up and laying a hand on your back. "Sweetheart--"

"I know I've put on a few. Hell, more than a few," you admit, hastily wiping under your eyes. "God, I can't even look at myself right now, let alone have you--"

"Hey. You stop right there," Beau says, more firmly. He gets you to turn around with his hand on your shoulder. He doesn't like the way you're curled in on yourself, as if hiding your body from his gaze.

That, and the sight of your tears damn well break his heart.

He cups the side of your face gently and presses a tender kiss to your forehead, followed closely by your lips.

You don't want to melt, but you just can't help it. You cling to the front of his shirt and lean into his kiss, like you've been lost in the desert, and his lips hold the breath of life.

You almost don't realize it when his arms slip around your waist. He earns a surprised yelp from you when he gathers you close against his chest and rolls you underneath him.

You land against the pillows in a huff. You stare up at his playful smile, his green eyes glinting with amusement, with fondness, and also with desire as they roam over your breasts, barely contained by dark green satin and lace.

"I've been neglecting you, haven't I?" he says. His voice is a low, earthy drawl as his gaze rakes over you. His big hand runs down your side and over your hip, then down your bare thigh, squeezing soft, tender flesh. He slips that hand under the satin night gown.

His hand can't span your entire thigh, but it's not for lack of trying. Your heart beats a staccato rhythm at the way he looks at you, your breath hitching when his thumb dips between your legs, brushing against the damp, silky fabric of your panties.

"It's not because I don't find you sexy as hell. Believe me, darlin', I do," he says. "You're so fuckin' beautiful, especially when you're all laid out for me here."

And he means what he says. You know it by the hardness you feel pressing against your hip. You slip your fingers into his hair with a sigh.

He bows his head to press kisses along your neck; down and down, he noses at the thin strap of your night gown. His path of kisses continue, and he indulges himself by dipping his tongue between the valley of your breasts.

"Filling out this lacy little thing so nice," he murmurs into your skin.

Your upset has turned to abject relief, but you still have to blink away the remaining urge to cry.

You let out a slightly tremulous breath.

"Oh, yeah?" you ask.

Beau pauses. He pulls away, just so he can look up and meet your eyes. He still finds insecurity in yours, so he meets you with a kiss filled with heat and intent.

He's now wide awake. He plans to take his sweet time taking you apart, inch by inch.

In fact, in the back of his mind, he also plans to do better about letting his deputies help him out more at the precint so he can have a better work-life balance.

(Because going a whole damn month without the taste of you is "no bueno," in his words.)

Soldier Boy (Ben)

The man may not be very patient, or particularly perceptive, but he's not an idiot.

At least, not about sex.

He knows that you've been feigning tiredness, and generally avoiding his touch.

What's strange is that you haven't been avoiding him. You still cook for him, still share conversation with him, still insist on having him spoon you on the couch while catching him up on the past four decades of TV shows and movies.

But when he begins to sneak a hand under your oversized shirt (an old one of Ben's), caressing your hip, then dipping down to your softer stomach on the way to your panties, breaking your concentration from the movie as unease laces down your spine.

You grab his wrist on reflex, instead lacing your fingers together.

"What's the matter now?" he asks.

You look over your shoulder at him and find him frowning at you, a divot between his brows. You don't manage to hold his gaze for long.

"Sorry," you say quietly. "I'm just, um, tired."

Ben doesn't believe you, and he's direct when he calls you out on it.

Reluctant to put what you've been feeling into words, you pause the movie and leave the couch (and him) behind.

Ben is annoyed enough to follow you (and underneath, he hides an edge of concern). The conflict leads into the bedroom, where you're still unwilling to open up.

He finally stops you from walking away from him, pinning you against the dresser by your hips. He practically looms over you as he demands an answer. He knows you're hiding something — something that's had you reluctant to let him touch you.

"Is there something you wanna tell me?" he says, a raw edge of warning in his tone. "What, are you fucking somebody else?"

Shock flashes in your eyes, making you angry. "What? No!"

"Well, you seem to be getting your fill somewhere, and it hasn't been from me--"

"Are you fucking serious? I'm not..." Your lips purse. You're actually hurt that he would hurl that accusation your way--and it couldn't be farther from the truth.

You tug your long shirt downwards and cross your arms, but it's more like you're hugging yourself, shielding your body away.

Ben's brows furrow a little bit more.

Eventually you get it out; you haven't been feeling up to being intimate because you're having a hard time even looking at yourself lately.

"I know I need to, um, get back in shape," you say, taking in a shaky breath to try and steady yourself. Your throat constricts, the beginnings of tears stinging your eyes. You want to look at anywhere but at Ben. "I just haven't had much time, with everything going on. But Annie gave me this guide on some different diets, like intermittent fasting, Keto--"

"Fasting," Ben intones. "What, you wanna fucking starve yourself? What the fuck is Keto?"

You sigh, barely resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"No, not starve myself. And Keto's just..." The idea of trying to explain the new diet craze to your boyfriend is too daunting a task to consider. "Never mind. The point is, I have a plan. My hips, my thighs, my ass--"

Ben squeezes your hips at the mention of them. He happens to like the softness.

"Yeah, you've got a little extra. So fucking what?" he says, his voice deep and exacting as his gaze roams over your body. "Just gives me more to hold onto when I'm fucking you."

You utter a shocked laugh. "Ben!"

He grins lazily, and he turns you this way and that, admiring you from all angles. In his eyes, he doesn't find a side he doesn't like. You can't help but blush hotly under his gaze.

"Sweetheart, do whatever you want if it makes you feel good. But you don't need to starve yourself." His hands move to your ass, squeezing a bit harder on the plush flesh.

A yelp escapes you; he's pressing into you from the front as well, and you feel him heavy and already half-hard against you. You grab onto his arms for stability as your breaths quicken.

His attitude kind of surprises you, even though it soothes the frayed, insecure part of your soul that wants to be as beautiful and attractive in his eyes as he is in yours.

Ben is literally a super soldier. You're actually kind of jealous. The man can drug and booze hard and eat whatever the hell he wants, but his super metabolism just seems to absorb it into his washboard abs.

(The more you think about it, the more you want to smack him.)

Nothing about him isn't hard and lean, muscle and strength.

Only his hands have a measure of gentleless when they're holding you like this.

"I've just got so many stretch marks now," you begin to complain, in an emotional whisper.

He snorts. "And? You think it's anything I haven't seen?"

At that, your head tilts in consideration. Butcher's Granny Fucker remark comes to mind. You bite your lip against a smirk.

Ben crooks a curled finger under your chin. He guides you to meet his eyes, before he lures you into a lusty kiss.

It's somewhat rough because of his beard, but you still smile afterwards, leaning against him now.

"Ain't nothing about you that I can't handle," he adds, all smirking and cocky. To prove his point, he hooks those strong hands behind your thighs and lifts you onto the dresser.

You gasp and cling to his shoulders. From there, he makes quick work of ridding the oversized shirt from your body, revealing you to the cool air and his hot gaze.

You take his face in your hands and bring him in for an even steamier kiss, your heart lighter and trembling with anticipation.

You've held yourself from him long enough, Ben thinks, and he has every intention of devouring you right on your old dresser -- before you two even get to the bed.

AN: 😮‍💨 I feel like each of these could've been even longer with their own one-shot loll. I wrote the Midnight Espresso-verse for Dean, partially to explore what his relationship would be like with a plus-sized reader. 💖💖

Let me know which one you liked most this time!

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[jd-loves-fiction]

Appears in your askbox again like a plague

Same platonic premise with Boothill, Blade and Gallagher but reader gets kidnapped by their previous captors (reader is a former slave) in the heat of conflict

🌑honeypop if your requests are a plague I wanna be sick 😭 CRIIINGE also this got so angsty good lord 💀

✦ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✦

PanicpanicPANIC

He's never shot people so quick, get space Guiness we've got a record

Getting rid of anyone who gets in his way without a second thought nor a moment wasted - he's never felt more like a machine

He just wants-- no, he needs you to be safe or he might go crazy from the guilt

He was supposed to protect you, he promised

He'd never forgive himself if you got hurt on his watch

So he's shooting people like it's going out of style, quickly tracking your captors down and making his way to you

You'd best look away when he finds them... He's not exactly a merciful man when it comes to his enemies

When he finally gets to you - he doesn't experience adrenaline anymore but - his head is spinning

He's approaching you carefully, doing his best to speak softly and try to make you laugh, so you know you're safe now

He'll swear to you again that this will never happen again

Utterly heartbroken that due to his metal body, he can no longer even give you a hug as comfort :(

✦ 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 ✦

Another one panicking, except it's slightly different

Because of the mara he can't let himself be consumed by his panic and anger because he might end up hurting - the LAST thing he wants

But my god is it difficult to stay calm

He's lost too many people already and we've seen what he's willing to do to bring them back

He's rampaging to your side while trying not to lose himself to the mara

Hope you dont mind him making sure they can never do this stuff again because he's not holding back on the fuckers once he finds them

His rage overtakes his concern to the point that he becomes so focused on paying them back that he only remembers why he's doing this after they're all dead

Immediatly rushes to your side after calming himself down - god forbid he sees even a sliver of fear in your eyes when looking at him or be might throw up

Terrible at expressing his concern, at least verbally, so with your consent he's holding you gently and carrying you to safety - silently comforting in the way he usually is, with an edge of anger and guilt this time

But if you dont want him near you for the time being, he'll be heartbroken but undertanding, though he'll still stay close to your when he can as a means of protection - he just cant let this happen ever again

✦ 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫 ✦

Nonchalant no more

All the way chalant, he's freaking the fuck out

True guard dog, genuinely surprised someone got past him since he tries his best to keep an eye on you during fights - clearly he needs to try harder

Tries his best to stay calm in order to focus on getting to you but man it's hard to do

No matter what you are the priority, but he really wants to mess up the people who dared do this again

Tell him you want revenge please and he's hunting them down to the ends of the galaxy

But if you tell him to drop it, he will - you're absolutely his priority, even if he really wants to rip those people to shreds

With his skill set it wont be too difficult to find you and get to you, quickly and efficietly taking care of anyone in his way

When he finds you, he's quick to read the room to figure out what you need

Space? You got it, he'll just stand a little to the side so he can still protect you

Revenge? No need to ask him twice, he's on it

A hug? 🥺He might cry, of course you can have a hug

He's a pretty heartfelt guy but he's got a good head on his shoulders so he understands that this was not his fault but his heart still aches for you

Let's you sit by him at the bar as he works; cracking jokes and teachin you a few bartending tricks to get your mind off things. At least until he can be sure that it wont happen again

[pillow-priestess]

What You Really Are

2.3k word story about a proud fae recognizing a 'human''s lack of humanity, and treating it accordingly by welcoming a new pet to Her estate. Content warning for one quickly quashed moment of suicidal ideation.

SNAP.

The grand double doors of the manor swung open behind me at their Lady’s beckoning, letting a rush of cool air into the entrance hall. With a sadistic smile and a glint in Her caprine eyes, She materialized a silver spear from the air, gripping the haft and slamming it twice on the stone floor, creating two deep echoing booms that made me jump a little. Distantly, I could hear the baying of hounds. 

“Well? The Hunt has begun, little guest. You have ten minutes to flee into the forest, before my pets and I allow ourselves to follow. They’re already counting down, so I’d pick up the pace if I were you.” 

The sheeplike fae smirked, obviously looking forward to the inevitable end of Her Hunt. 

“Show us a good time, and perhaps I’ll grant you a place in the kennel! Otherwise, it’ll be straight to the kitchens for… tonight’s…”

The expression faded, Her divine face shifting into a quizzical look as She realized I hadn’t moved, hadn’t even looked behind me at my supposed escape offer. I simply stood, shoulders sagging, tiredly meeting Her gaze. I knew this wasn’t how it’s supposed to go. I should be reinvigorated, adrenaline should be pumping through me, I should be running and bounding and grasping and clawing at the chance to survive and escape Her realm. But it wasn’t happening. I was exhausted. Not even this could change that. 

I opened my mouth to speak, but had to cough before I could even get some words out. It was dry and rattling, but was enough to clear my throat, at least.

“Just… get it over with. I’m not gonna give you a good hunt. I can’t,” I sighed. I was tired before I’d stumbled my way into Her woods, and being welcomed into Her manor only exacerbated that. I found my eyes sweeping the hall again, taking in the pastoral paintings, the soft carpets, the plush furniture. All things that a true Lady of the Fae would use to decorate Her estate, and all things that would be more than welcome back at my home. Looking at them exhausted me. Even if I made it back to the human realm, even if I went back to my life and my job and my little apartment, I’d never be able to stop thinking about how nice this place seemed. How I’ll never be able to afford anything of this quality. Given the choice between that and a quick end at Her feet, well…

“I’m… sorry, I guess. Clearly you enjoy this. But it’s just not worth the effort for me. I couldn’t give you a good time if I tried,” I looked back to Her, and found Her emotionless expression matching my own. “I hope I at least make a good meal for y-”

SNAP.

The doors closed smoothly, with none of the dramatic impact they’d had before. She released Her spear, and it dissipated into the aether it’d come from. Her hooves clicked softer than they should have on the stone as She took three slow steps towards me. The Lady towered over me, at least twice my height, but She crouched down to lift me up to Her in a hand big enough for me to sit on. Despite my exhaustion, a twinge of fear rippled through me, but Her other hand gently gripped my shoulders from behind to ease my shiver. She was about as warm as I expected, given the well groomed light brown wool that covered Her arms and legs. A finger tilted my head up, not letting me look away as She got a close and deep look into my eyes. No, not into my eyes - into something deeper, behind them, within me.

“Oh,” She muttered, eyes lighting up as She realized something. “Oh. I see. I understand now, dear. I’m sorry for scaring you.” 

There was a gravity behind Her words that resonated deeper within me than I expected. This was a different side of Her, now, one that wasn’t normally shown to humans. A true Lady would never admit wrongdoing to something not of Her home, something so beneath Her. So why was She apologizing to me? 

The hand that wasn’t holding me swiveled around my head, and two digits pressed into my scalp and rubbed themselves down my neck and back. I shuddered, and it wasn’t from fear this time. Her touch was so firm yet comforting, and that warmth of Hers seemed to bloom down my spine in a gentle wave. There was a light, soft, musical noise between us, and it took me a second to realize it had spilled out of my mouth. 

“Wh… what do you…?”

She stopped me with another long, drawn out stroke across my back, and I almost gasped at the pleasure.

“Shhh. Don’t speak, little one. You don’t deserve to put yourself through things that don’t befit you.” 

Something about that was like a dam breaking in my mind. I didn’t need to speak? It was an odd thing to hear, but inexplicably welcome to my tired brain. I grunted, nodding, and nuzzled into the next couple pets She deigned to give me. 

“Yes, I see now. You wouldn’t make a sporting Hunt at all. I only hunt humans, those silly little things; they make for the most entertaining game. Few escape, and most are ultimately made tired enough to give in and accept a life as one of my pets.” 

She was talking more to Herself than to me, and my mind barely processed most of the words. They were like a blanket running over my brain; soft, comforting, but nothing that I cared to stop and grab and focus on. At least until the end. Something about… ‘life as a pet’...? 

She noticed me stirring, and graced me with a beautiful smile. 

“That’s right. You don’t need to go through all of that. You’ve never been human, have you? You wear their form, but not by choice. It’s wrong on you. It’s a performance. Like a hound standing on two legs to please its master. But it gets so tiring after so long… and you’ve never truly been rewarded for it, either…” 

That got my attention. What was She talking about? I… of course I was human. I spoke human words and thought human thoughts and worked a human job and engaged in human society, just like a good human is supposed to. Sure, it was tiring, and I’d been struggling to stay afloat since the beginning of adulthood, but that’s life, isn’t it? 

“No, dear. That’s not what life is supposed to be. Not even for most humans, and certainly not for an animal like you.” She punctuated the statement with a hug, pressing my body into Her chest, rubbing my front into the silken fabric of Her long dress. It felt divine enough that I didn’t even consider the fact that She’d somehow read the thoughts right out of my mind.

“And I couldn’t live with myself if I was needlessly cruel to a poor little animal shivering on my doorstep…” 

Her words’ nuance to me was starting to dissolve, again. I was comfortable here. Warm. Safe. Held. That’s what mattered. She wasn’t going to hunt me, and She wasn’t going to let me go back to that old life, either. She’d seen some kind of undeniable truth about me, and the way She was treating me, I didn’t see any reason to fight or question Her. Especially when being held like this was preferable to mustering any energy to move around. 

She turned, still cradling me, starting to walk deeper into Her manor. Her hand continued to stroke and pet me, keeping me pressed into Her bosom, nice and warm and comfortable as She carried me into the unfamiliar. Even as She stepped onto the soft carpets of the inner halls, the soft footfalls of Her hooves still seemed as powerful and attention grabbing as the clacking they made on stone. I could hear other footsteps passing us in both directions, the clink of jewelry, the ruffling of dresses, quiet greetings and gratitude offered to Her that I never fully processed. She met each of them with an approving nod, but only continued to mutter to me, soothing me with a constant stream of words. 

“Now, the question lies, what exactly are you, hm? Normally, visitors from your realm become one of my hounds, and live a most entertaining life throughout my estate. They play and hunt and entertain my guests, but I suspect that that life might be a little high energy for you. No, you’ll be a different kind of pet, I think.

Perhaps a cat? There are several that wander my grounds or accompany my daughters. Cats have all manner of dispositions, and a little thing as soft and warm as you would fit in well… but not perfect. No, I don’t think you’re a cat, either. Too independent.” 

I found myself agreeing with every word. Maybe I would make a good pet. She was already being so nice to me, and I didn’t even properly belong to Her yet. The idea of staying with Her forever, to be adored and doted upon, as a simple animal in Her care… the exhaustion gripping my body had fully shifted from stress to need. 

“Not a bunny either, or a ferret. Much as I’d love another adorable little fuzzball for my collection, I can’t exactly see you zooming about in a playful frenzy, dear. No…” 

I heard the creaking of a wooden door, and my Lady took several final steps before sitting and sinking into a large plush armchair. With a lap to better hold me, now, She pulled me out of the indentation I’d made in Her dress to lay me across Her thighs. I dazedly blinked up at Her, eyes adjusting to the dimmer candlelight of what was clearly a private room. She smiled warmly down at me, once again filling me with that lovely warmth of simply pleasing Her. Yes, that definitely confirmed it. I was made to be Her pet. 

Sensing my renewed understanding, She began to pet me with both hands, one continuing to rub down my head and back while the other traced circles over my stomach. I moaned with pleasure, doing my best to nuzzle into Her touch, lightly squirming to help Her get my most sensitive spots. The motion seemed to inspire something in Her, and Her smile glinted with satisfaction. 

“Ah! Of course, it’s so obvious! And exactly the kind of pet I need, to boot!” 

I whimpered in Her lap, anticipation building for Her verdict. I needed this. I needed to be told what I am. I’d waited so long, pursued the wrong answer all my life. This is what I deserved. Becoming Her perfect pet would be the kind of freedom I never had the space to search for. 

The hand behind me cradled my head, and I gasped as She brought me up close, filling my vision with Her divinely beautiful face. She drew a finger up my collar, up my neck, stopping at my chin with a pointed nail pressing into my chin.

“You,” She stated firmly, without any room for doubt, “are my beloved, prized, gorgeous snake.” 

I was, I am, Her snake. The concept had never entered my head before that moment, but it shattered any remaining delusions like a bullet through a window. My body tingled all over, shuddering at the sensation, yearning to be granted my true form at Her desire. And, as She continued to cradle and explain to me, I began to change. 

“It’s so simple, but so perfect, isn’t it? You’re not loud, or haughty, or excitable. You’re soft. You’re content with me, on me, around me. All you need to do is keep warm and fat and satisfied, and I can provide you with that for as long as you live.”

Feeling had left my limbs. My skin was shifting, stretching, reshaping itself at Her unspoken command. I couldn’t stop staring at Her loving face, even as the perspective and colors through which I saw the world changed alongside my body. 

“And such a pretty snake you are, too! Those gorgeous glimmering scales, such a perfect orange and white to complement my wool… oh, and look at how big you’ve grown in my care! You could wrap yourself all around my forearm, now, couldn’t you?”

She was right. My scales were beautiful, so soft and shiny for my owner. She’d taken such good care of me, and wrapping around Her to show my gratitude always felt divine! I happily, lazily slithered around the hand that had been holding my head, then down Her arm and back up again, nuzzling Her palm and tasting it with flicks of my tongue. My heightened sense of smell meant that I constantly took in Her scent, and it felt wonderful to my little snakey brain. It felt right. It was where I belonged. 

I was rewarded with more strokes down my head and upper body, and with a practically glowing warmth from Her body heat that more than made up for my lack of it. She cooed over me, Her newest pet, standing back up and bringing me up to Her face for a kiss on the snout. I submitted happily, coils loose on Her arm with contentment, elated to be Hers in body and soul. Her hand shifted to one of Her great curling horns, touching it with two fingers in a gesture I already understood to mean ‘move here.’ I slithered off of Her wool and onto the curving keratin, practically a playground for me to wrap myself over and around. 

As She left Her private room with me proudly displayed amongst Her horns, I snaked my way over to Her ear, curling around it lightly and nuzzling my head underneath. I couldn’t see from this angle, but I knew She was smiling at me. 

She always would be. 

She always is. 

I couldn’t be a luckier pet. 

[bubbbii]

A Birthday Promise

title : A Birthday Promise

pairing : Jungkook x Reader

genre : kpop smut, Jungkook smut, BTS smut, very dirty content

warning : name - calling, doggystyle, missionary, scratching, hair - pulling, birthday sex, choking, 21+ content

Summary :

“I could tell .. you’re eyeing me like a piece of meat”

[Hope uu guys enjoyed the Namjoon Smut ☺️]

!PURELY FICTION! !NOT REAL!

do not steal idea or story without permission please and thank you :)

Legoo

_______________________________________________

“Birthday Girl!! Plans is still on for tonight?” “Of course! I had invited sum extra people but everyone is gonna have their own table and such and we’ll all be together” “Sounds like a plan! How’s you and uh … Lucas?” “We stop talking, you know that. I blocked him, but it’s rumors that he’ll be attending tonight at the restaurant” “Uh oh, are you worried?” “Of course not, try anything you know my brother don’t play that” “Yea Namjoon he’s uh … something” “Tell me ‘bout it”

“Dress is still as planned?” “Yess i thank my girl Rosie for hooking me up, it’s gorgeous … but she told me someone had payed for it and won’t tell me who did” “Ain’t that a mystery” “Yea … and i’m gonna find out” “Y/N!” I recognize the voice of my brother, sighing as i went downstairs out of my room. “I need to take that key away from you” “Oh I love you too” I chuckled, feeling the kiss planted on the top of my head. “I’M HEREEE” I chuckled, hanging up the phone as Lisa arrived at the front door.

“You could’ve told me you were coming while you were on the phone with me” “But why would i do that that’ll ruin the surprise” I chuckled, feeling her embrace as she closed the door behind her. “As a tribute, i will be driving Y/N to her birthday dinner slash party” “Aww thank you Jiminie” “Since when did you tribute to anything?” I glared at Namjoon at his comment as Jimin huffed. “Anything for Y/N .. she’s getting old” “Uhh one year older?!” “Exactly” I smacked his head rolling my eyes as i made my way to a chair in the living room.

“But you know i wasn’t the only one, your little boyfriend tributes as well” I scoffed. “Which one, for sum reason there seems to be multiple” “And we don’t claim Lucas .. we’re talking about the boyfriend you won’t give a chance” I sighed softly, crossing my legs as i had an idea on who the “boyfriend” was. “How come” “It’s your birthday .. you know he won’t give up. Especially now knowing that you’re done with Lucas? He’s definitely shooting it! And i’m letting him” I sighed again.

“Y/N he’s good! You think i’ll let him come near you if i didn’t think he was fit ? He means good , despite just being a little younger” “2 years Joon .. i don’t wanna be a cougar!” “Is that all Y/N? You have no reason to NOT give that man a chance trust me he’s more mature than Lucas will ever be and he’s OLDER than you! Kook means good … even Jimin said it” “And ya’ll two should know out of all of us that my spirit, never lies”

It’s true.

“I don’t know Joon .. he could just be doing this for a bet” “Sis listen, don’t let what Lucas planted in your head block something that could be .. a lifetime! You don’t wanna give it a shot because he’s younger than you .. you don’t wanna give it a shot because you’re scared to try again” I gulped, the words cutting deep as i took a deep breath. As much as i wanted to shove those words back down his throat. I know i needed to hear them.

He knows exactly what to say to me.

“Now, he’s gonna take you to your dinner, i already talked to him” “Hey!” “Jimin now you know you wasn’t takin this girl! You know me better than that” Jimin sighed, agreeing as I looked at the two. “What if .. i don’t want him driving me?” “I know you better than that” Namjoon replied, walking off into the kitchen as i chuckled. “Trust me .. this is gonna be good!”

“How come Lisa? He’s right .. i’m scared! Jungkook is .. 2 years younger than me!” “Uhh Chen is 2 years younger than me and look how we turned out! Age doesn’t matter when that person you call ‘young’ had to grow up early and didn’t have a choice. He’s good boo. Now come on, let’s gon head and get sum to eat, and get ready. Tonight is gonna be amazing” I smiled, getting up to join the 2 boys in the kitchen.

Tonight will, be amazing.

Time Skip.

“You look .. beautiful” I smiled at myself in the mirror, admiring every curve that was shown, ever piece of skin that was exposed, every jewel that shined in the light … 25 looking good on me. “Sexy .. Grown, and Sexy. You” “You think so?” “Oh i know so! They’re gonna be looking at you” Lisa responded, coming up beside me to fix finishing touches as she was all done up as well. “You’re the star my love!” Definitely felt good going into this dinner.

“Now let’s go ahead grab our belongings and head on downstairs Joon and Jimin are waiting” I sprayed my perfume on me, grabbing my purse and watch before turning off the lights in the room. “Presenting! Queen Y/N” the two boys looked and saw me coming down the stairs, the heels clicking ever so lightly on the marble floor. “Oh i’m getting my instagram photos in” “My little sister not so little anymore” I smiled widely, finding warmth in my brothers embrace. “You know you’ll always be Oppa” Namjoon’s dimples showed, planting a soft kiss on my head.

“The others just made it to the venue, everyone’s there waiting for you Y/N!” The doorbell rung as everyone grabbed their belongings and Lisa opened the door to see a tall figure. “Ms Y/N … your driver has arrived right on time” Lisa announced, smirking at the younger man as she locked eyes with me, whose eyes were on the younger man.

The man’s hair was long and curly, the silky button up hugging his big boy muscles just right, and topped it with nice slacks and dress shoes. “We’ll leave yall too it, just don’t take too long” Namjoon interrupted, the 3 leaving.

And it was just me and Jungkook.

“You look .. very beautiful” “Yea .. thank you Jungkook. You look good yourself” Jungkook scoffed, looking down at himself. “Love those heels?” “They’re comfortable and stilettos! Thank you very much” Jungkook chuckled as i chuckled along with him, grabbing my purse. “You’re gonna be great, star of the show” “I’m always am” The two couldn’t keep their eyes off each other, the tension rising by the second. “Give in already”

And Y/N was ready to do just that.

“What are you talking about” “All you can do is stare but won’t do anything? Why? You’re afraid?” “Jungkook don’t start this” “I will .. i am” Jungkook said with a quickness, crossing his arms. “Everyone as gifts, on the tables and such. But my gift? Is a promise to you that you’ll have EVERYTHING you need in life i made a promise to myself that when i was ready Y/N you’ll be the one i run to. And think that i’m joking?” I sighed, my body getting heated.

And i couldn’t take it.

I smashed my lips on his, wrapping my arms around his neck as he held me close. He deepened the kiss, feeling every inch of me as i cupped his cheeks into my hands. We kissed for a little more, before slowly breaking it, our foreheads connecting. “Fuck” I breathed out, my eyes shut as felt Jungkook’s embrace. “Consider this a teaser, for when I give you my present” Jungkook smirked, making me chuckle at his words. “Got me a little excited” Jungkook hummed, planting a soft kiss on my lips.

“Well let’s get going, you got hundreds waiting for you” I smiled, seeing him turn off the lights and grabbed me by the hand and headed to the car. Once we got inside and drove off to the packed venue.

~~

Everyone had a blast, the night went on with drinks, food, laughter. It was what I imagined it to be, I couldn’t ask for anything more. “You’re in your thoughts! What’s going on?” Taehyung asked, crossing his legs as he sat beside me. “Nothing nothing just, calming myself down it’s so much haha” “Girl, now you know i know you right? Is it Jungkook?” “Ok me and Jungkook had a heated moment before we got here” “I knew it” I sighed, landing a head on Tae’s shoulder.

“Tae he’s everything i want! Everything i … I need” “Baby stop letting that bitch of a man get in the way of finding your blessing! Jungkook IS everything you need and you know that, so stop trying to fight it because we all see right through you. He sees it the most. Give the man a chance Y/N trust my word!” I sighed, giving Tae puppy eyes. “You serious?” “I’m deadass! He don’t play bout you. Speaking of .. where is Kook?” I looked at our table, and he wasn’t near. Nerves struck me and Tae got up and searched the huge restaurant from our point of view. No where.

“Outside?” Me and Tae went outside, to see 4 men. And i knew exactly who they were. One, wish i didn’t make eye contact with. “Y/N! Tell these men to get off my fucking back!” “I’m her brother i do what i want” “Guys whats going on?” “He decided he wanted to cause ruckus so i led him outside and Jungkook and Joon just happen to follow” Hoseok replied to Taehyung. “Lucas what are you doing here?” “To celebrate your birthday of course! If these dickheads would allow me?!” “You’re yelling doesn’t scare me” Jungkook said with calming energy. My hand made contact with his causing him to look at me.

“Come on, please” “Oh so ya’ll a thing now?” “It’s not like that Lucas, and besides it’s nun of your business what i got going on right now!” “Oh really? I’m that easy to get over?” “Y/N-“ “No no .. she got it” Joon stepped in interrupting Jungkook. “We were happy! You did it because you were bored!” “No - YOU WERE HAPPY! Who told you i was happy !? It wasn’t like we were dating because of this - fairytale that you planted in my head … YOU DID THAT! Lead me on and dug a grave to put me in Lucas. I cut you off because if i held off any longer i would’ve put my OWN DAMN SELF in that grave. But listen here, what I got going on and who i got going on right now and got shit to do with you and you’ll never understand”

“This little boy-“ “Little boy!? Lucas let me tell you something here, this ‘little boy’ will ever be more of a MAN you’ve ever been Lucas. He doesn’t show that he just wants my body, whenever i can be his uber driver that’s convenient to him, he cares for me and i actually feel LOVED from this ‘love’ shit! So i’ll leave you with this .. may my scars, and my tears wear you like a damn sweatshirt to remind you and every girl you come crosses with that i gave you that ego. You’ll never find someone like me” I poured out, taking a deep breath as i turned around and went inside the restaurant with everyone following me.

“I didn’t think you were like that” “Then you must not know Y/N, look where she gets it from” Namjoon hummed, agreeing with Hobi as i shook my head. “I didn’t want you to see that” I spoke, looking up at Jungkook. “I was right behind you, you handled that very well” “ALRIGHT GUYS LETS SING HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!” Everyone gathered around, singing happy birthday as i blew out the candles afterwards.

The cheers filled my ears as i smiled ear to ear. “Toast!? Y/N .. cheers too?” Namjoon announced, everyone holding up glasses and the room went silent as they waited for my words. I took my glass, looking at the wine swirling inside. “Cheers .. to a better lifestyle, better days,” I started, now locking eyes with Jungkook. “And new beginnings” I finished, everyone cheering as everyone clinked their glasses and drunk what was in their cup. “New beginnings huh?” I hummed, feeling Jungkook’s warmth as he closed the gap between us.

“I’m curious .. wise person told me to stop being afraid. I-I’m ready” I responded, looking into his eyes. I couldn’t get enough. “You had a good time?” “I did, tonight was amazing” “Good .. because i’m about to make it even better” Jungkook whispered, winking at me before moving away and left out the venue. My eyes widened, speed walking towards Tae, Jimin, Joon, and Lisa who were all in a group.

“Jungkook .. he-“ “We saw it all .. don’t worry i took care of everything. The rest would be at the house when we’re finished cleaning everything and pack the gifts, you’re gonna love what he did for you” I smiled ear to ear, hugging Namjoon as i rushed out the door and into the car with Jungkook.

~~~

We got out the car, Jungkook opening the door for me and soon turned on the lights leaving my eyes to widened. Rose petals were all over the floor, the modern living room decorated nicely with dark red decorations. I soon saw the luxury gift bags on the table which made me run over to them hearing Jungkook chuckle at my silliness. “Jungkook!! For me!?” “All for you” I looked at everything, landing a hand on his chest. “You like it?” “I love it kook, thank you” I responded, locking eyes with him.

And i definitely couldn’t take it.

I kissed him hungrily, wrapping my arms around his neck feeling his hands hold me close. “I’ve been waiting for this” Jungkook whispered out, picking me up and set me on the spacious black couch of mine. He took off my heels, lips still attatched to mine as he took off his shirt, and unzipped my dress which left me in my bra and panties.

“Ohh my pretty girl, in my favorite color” Jungkook cocked having me roll my eyes. “I didn’t wear this for you” “Oh you didn’t wear it for me?” I huffed, knowing i was in a trap and he chuckled. “You look beautiful” I hummed softly, feeling him gently kiss on my neck down my collarbone, and all the way down to my aching hood. He cupped it with the tatted hand of his, making my body jolt feeling the pleasure rise in my body. “Fuck .. please” “that feels good?” he moved his hand in circulation motion automatically having my hips roll with it.

“Oh she’s needy, don’t worry … i’ll take good care of you” Jungkook commented, turning his voice into a whisper as he slid my panties to the side and threw them on the spot beside him. “Raise your legs up high for me” I did as told, spreading my legs and he dug inside, devouring every juice that dripped into his mouth. “Oooh fuck! Just like that, fuck!” “Hold still princess” my arms wrapped his neck, my thighs trapping him as it motivated him to keep going.

He was not slowing down.

“Y-You’re going so fast … fuck!” “You might have a clue on what i’m trying to get you to do” My moans got breathless, feeling his tongue work skillfully in my folds, the tip of his tongue flicking up my clit. “I-I don’t wanna cum yet! I feel close already!” Jungkook chuckled, pussy sounds feeling my ears as he slobbered all over it. “You’re gonna cum when i want you too .. we’re on the same page?” I whined, but i felt him stop as his eyes locked with mine with a quickness. “Are we?” “Y-Yes, yes daddy”

Jungkook wasted no time, going back and sucking me out. This time, he used not even half his strength just to get me over the edge. “I feel close already.. i feel close i think i’m gonna cum!” “Oh you wanna cum for daddy? Cum for me princess it’s your day, cum for me baby girl” My back arched, feeling my juices flow all over, Jungkook being there to suck it all up as he moaned with me.

“My good girl, my good fucking girl good job. Good job baby” I moaned softly, seeing him slowly move away as his fingers moved up and down the outside slowly making me jolt a little bit. “Baby sensitive?” “N-No .. no i want you, please” Jungkook smirked, hovering over me as he landed his lips on mine. He took his pants off swiftly, his lips still attached to mine as he grinds against me. “Feel that? Feel that hard cock?” Jungkook whispered in my ear, making me whine as i bucked my hips.

“P-Please put it in” “How about you do that?” I grabbed it, slowly stuck it in and he did the rest by slowly pushing it in. My eyes rolled at the back of my head, feeling the big cock fill every single corner every single space inside me. “So f-full .. shit” “Tell me when you’re ready, fuck i need to stretch you out” “Slow .. slow please” Jungkook followed orders, slowly snapping his hips against me, hearing myself hiss and my pussy clenching around him.

“Fuckkk it feels so good, keep going, faster” “You need to loosen up for me baby. Come on open up for daddy” Jungkook grunted, his hips moving a bit faster as i started to loosen up little by little for him. “How long we going for this pace?” “O-Ok you can go just try-“ Jungkook wasted no time and fucked into me with no mercy behind it. He snapped his hips with all his might, hearing my screams and moans fill his ears. “YES! YES YES YES JUST LIKE THAT! J-JUST LIKE THAT DADDY FUCK!” “Keep going for me, clench on me like that you like that shit? You like daddy fucking you like that you little slut?”

I couldn’t take it, he was making me feel good in all the right places … he knew i needed this. How much i wanted this. And i applaud him for not giving up.

Because boy i would be shitty.

“I feel close.. i feel close, daddy” “You wanna cum together?” I nodded, pulling him closer and smashed my lips on his, feeling his hips snap faster against me and my insides starting to feel tense. “You ready?” “Y-Yea yea yea i’m cumming! I’m cumming daddy cum in me!” Jungkook groaned, hiding his face in my neck and we soon came together, both of us releasing all the sounds we wanted. He filled me, fucking me slowly before stopping completely and pulled out the soft cock. “You’re ok?” I nodded softly, feeling his soft kisses.

“Promise me … we’ll stick it out?” Jungkook smiled softly, planting a soft kiss on my lips. “Consider this .. a Birthday promise”

[reidingandallthat]

what's in a name?

a last late night conversation, where you confront lauren and start questioning if that's even her real name.

emily prentiss x reader words: 1.8k genre: angst cw: set in when emily was undercover as lauren, reader's role isn't mentioned, feel free to assume. lyric prompt: I will not ask you where you came from, I will not ask and neither should you. honey just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do.

a/n: my submission for my beloved @mggslover 's event, lovers1kevent, again congratulations lovely. tried something different so im terrified. ill just hide out after i post don't hmu kekfjrlfk. idk if the stove and fire thingy worked out as I wanted but oh well.

Nightfall fell like a blanket around the cold winter, three steps into the kitchen with just a lamp on. Dim lights remind you of the same moment just a few months ago, hurried hands roaming through kitchen drawers, hoping for just one clue. 

You take a knife, an untoasted piece of bread laid out on a plate, not much patience to turn on the stove so you spread out jam over it. Cold to touch, just like she was before the calamity. 

The thought was scary, not very surprising, but you had your suspicions. You only hoped for them to not be true. 

A clutter shakes you awake, looking around for any intruder or perhaps Declan, maybe he had a nightmare. The sound was brief as if the intruder had only realised the sound they made but you had heard it. 

Slow and tentative footsteps, careful to never make a sound, you try to decipher the direction of the sound. It's hard, now that it's so quiet. 

But then you hear it again, the scraping of a drawer. So you take the knife left on the kitchen counter, yielded in front of you as a warning. 

Just three more steps till you find out who's here but something stops you. You only see a glance of it, but it's all too recognisable. It's her. 

Her expressions are calm but her hands tell a different story. She doesn't dare look up, her eyes glued to the file she's holding open, determined to look at every word on the paper. 

“She must have stayed over,” You think as you see Lauren hurriedly turning over pages. 

Her looking through anything in the house isn't that much strange to you, but it's the middle of the night and her breath quickens at every second that passes. You know there is nothing normal about this. 

But you rest your weapon anyway, making sure to make a sound so she can hear you coming. And as you anticipated, her body reacted instantly, the file being closed and hidden, her hands busying themselves with the water bottle on the table. 

You slowly walk in, suspicion clouding your face. You don't know yet, but she can tell. She can pick out everything you want to say just by seeing your face, but you don't know that, yet.

“Hi.” You say,

“Hey,” she chuckles, “I was just making a sandwich, do you want one?” she asks, a smile betraying her narrow escape, and perhaps even the objective of her arrival, but she doesn't know that yet.

The red color of the jam stares back at you in fluorescent lighting, eyes strained from being open for too long. 

You're not even hungry anymore.

You can sense her now, a presence too heavy to ignore. You haven't looked up in a few minutes but you could feel her staring at you, brown eyes too enticing to ever look into. 

“You should eat,” she says. 

Your eyes close heedlessly, a sharp stab of pain you desperately hoped you never felt, but it was common nature now. You look up and force a smile, not caring much to make it look natural, she can always tell anyway. Another thing that haunts you most days. 

It's very hard to hide from her, but you can never find her, always looking at a distance, never too close or too far.

You’ve told her it's unfair, she only laughs. Cruel.

“I’m not hungry anymore.” 

She smiles, amused, endeared. Cruel.

“So you were sleep cooking?”

You're grateful she can't see you smiling, you don't want to give her the satisfaction. So, so cruel of you. 

“Don't make me laugh.”

“Is that a crime now?”

The garden was more beautiful to you at night, the smell of jasmine was much more prominent but you had to stay away, if you got too close it made you dizzy. 

You hear a sound, but instead of panic a warmth causes goosebumps all over your body. 

You know how you can tell someone's footsteps apart? 

Hers are unmistakable to you, you're positive you can tell her breathing apart from a crowd of thousands. But that's not appropriate to say out loud.

You learned that pretty quick, nothing was to be said out loud, it made it too real. You can't really tell why she comes every time you call, or why you oblige to her insistences, but you do anyway. Why would she kiss you senseless then laugh and tease, why would she let you roll your eyes at her? Why was it fine by you to sleep next to her when no one was home, why did you let everything happen even if it killed you, little by little? 

You’d asked her once, her fingers tracing meaningless patterns on your face, running a line up and down your nose. 

“Memory of a goldfish. Do you know how long that is?” She asks.

“A few seconds.” You answer.

“You think we can be goldfish?”

You laugh, it's music to her ears.

“Strange way of foreplay, but sure.”

She laughs, it's music to your ears.

“Schadenfreude,” You say as you assemble another piece of bread with the jam covering only one side of it.

You turn on the stove, I don't want to eat it cold justifying your actions but you know it's not accurate. Excuses, excuses.

It's because she's talking to you, and a sick need to hear it again and again and again until it grates your ears but that moment never comes. Somehow you're always looking for reasons to extend the time, finding excuses to turn on the stove. 

“Taking pleasure in other's misfortune.” She explains and you roll your eyes, of course she knows.

“Mhm. Good job.” You bite into a separate piece of bread as you wait for the pan to warm.

“Why is that relevant right now?”

“You're a classic example.”

Her eyebrows crinkle in offense and you want to laugh but it only pesters your heart, a rope tightening around your neck. 

“I don't take pleasure in anybody's pain,” She clutches her heart, mock pain, and it's a joke for her, but it's three in the morning. And you're tired. 

“You take pleasure in my pain,” an emphasis on the word ‘my’. 

Her eyes turn knowing, pitiful and sorry and you hate it. You hate that she has the upper hand, that she can tell you're a desperate, pathetic mess. 

“I don't take pleasure in your pain, honey-”

“Don't you fucking honey me.”

You think you can hear your heart beating, you can feel it in your neck, as if it will jump out any minute. The light sound of the clock ticking fills the silence. The pan is too warm now, so you turn down the heat. You don't want to burn your sandwich. 

She knows not to push, it's a known routine now. It stays silent until you take another piece of bread when she speaks again, just like clockwork, memory of a goldfish.

“Why did you turn on the stove if you were just going to eat them like this anyway?”

“I have free will, go away.”

“Just warm them you already have the stove-”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Okay, what's going on? Why are you being so dismissive?”

“Because I can-”

“Y/n.”

You only look at her, it's too hard to string together sentences anymore. This is one of the few select times you're grateful she can read you like a book. She knows what this is about. 

“What's your name, Lauren?”

It's only the second time you've asked that question. The first time the consequences felt too real. Her eyes hold betrayal, anger and every other thing you can think of. 

She should have been confused, dumbfounded when you asked her the first, she should have brushed you off. But she was angry, the biggest mistake on her part.

“What are you asking me??”

“Your name isn't Lauren.”

“How would you know?” 

“Because you don't answer me when I call you Lauren, it's someone else. It's not the same person who responds when I call her honey, sweetheart, angel, just anything else.”

It felt like a dare, who could win the argument, who would say the harshest words, ask the hardest questions.

“You promised not to ask.” It's an accusation.

“You won't tell me your name Lauren.”

“I can't.”

Your head hangs low as you take deep breaths. Fire burns underneath the pan, small and timid like it's tired. You put the sandwich on the stove, not keen on asking anymore questions, they never get answered anyway. 

You don't notice her get up, or walk towards you. You were hoping she'd just disappear, like none of this ever happened. But her hands cup your face and force you to look up. You keep your eyes closed, too afraid you'll recognise the look on her face. 

The same one she adorned when she was looking for answers, begging you to not ask anymore. 

But you're tired.

“You don't have any secrets? What is this then?” She gestures between the two of you, and a shadow falls over your face. It's unkind of her to ask this, it's not a fair question. She knows that, but she asks anyway.

“Are you kidding me? Are you seriously saying that? You?”

“We all have our secrets. You have yours, I have mine.”

A ringing alarm sound breaks your memory. Her hands leave you, hurrying to turn off the sound, to not wake anyone up. 

She flips the sandwich over, and the other side is burnt, too dark. 

“I don't feel real,” You say. It's a quiet admission, only meant for her. You're not even sure if you yourself want to listen to it.

“You're not real, Lauren. Neither of us are.”

You take the sandwich off the pan, soothing your fingers after the hot surface touches your fingertips. 

You look at her and she looks puzzled, it's adorable. The inexplicable urge to kiss her pesters you again, you had vowed not to do it, but she's too close for you to not to, so you reach her lips anyway, just for a second. But she keeps you in place, just a few more minutes, a phrase you've heard too often when sunlight starts peeking through windows. 

You turn the stove off as she lets you go, you take her silence as an apology. You don't think you could take anymore reasonings and explanations. 

...

The everyday noise of the mornings shakes you awake, you can't even tell when you fell asleep. It's only eight am, you've definitely not gotten enough sleep, but you force yourself off the bed.

The housekeeper is in the kitchen, chopping vegetables with the same knife you held last night.

You can't really tell if it was real or a dream, if you imagined a horrible goodbye or if that was it. 

But you hear Lauren giggling in the living room, and you hear Declan’s laugh accompanying hers. 

The dream was real, you know now but you don't try very hard to convince yourself that it was real. It's better off as a dream, you think.

As you look at the scene in front of. you, you think of the same sentence you've thought every morning for the past few months, Memory of a goldfish.

[redux-iterum]

I feel horrible for the poor girl, the entire scene with her pleading was just heart breaking.

Rosy just watching as all her family slips right between her paws while she can't do anything but beg and break down was heart wrenching.

Particularly with Fire himself saying that he won't visit her, and her just desperately calling out to him as 'Rusty'

I interpret it as her giving up Cloud because she was scared he would get taken away and she would be completely alone, and figured that if Fire could visit then surly so could cloud, better then never seeing him again. Only for that to be the outcome anyways.

Was she warned? Yes. Should she have seen it coming? Maybe. But it is still upsetting watching her beg to not be left alone

I would describe Rosy as someone who deeply desires family in a lifestyle where such a thing doesn't exist. She was fucked from her birth to never have what she wants the most. She was taken away from her mother and brother. Her kits left her as soon as they were weaned. Even her mate didn't stick around for more than a month. Sure, one day she might have another cat in the house, but it won't be the same.

I have sympathy for her in this moment, selfish as she's being. She was so close to having her dearest dream come true - her son living with her, her brother visiting (and maybe she could convince him some day to stay too!) - and it's been snatched away for good. She will never have that hope again. She's spayed. She won't have more kits. No further chances. She's alone now. Permanently. Forever.

It's a bummer, really.

[thyras]

→ of great gatherings (bonus chapter)

PAIRING → mairon | sauron x female!elf!reader

WORD COUNT → 14.8k words

SERIES → of sauron & the moriquendi

WARNINGS → 18+ only MDNI - unprotected p in v, oral (female receiving), fingering, semi-public sex, tub sex, bruh this is just sex everywhere tbh

SUMMARY → your husband wishes to show you off in the grandest way possible.

AUTHORS NOTE → please don't kill me i'm running out of gif's guys, none of jack's sauron really works okay, i'm sorry. like i fucking love that moron but shit the chapters i've written of him do not align with that version of him 🤣 so as requested, cause y'all be some filthy horny animals I have two fully filled smut chapters to post for y'all, thought this was just 15k words nope apparently it was close to 30k so yeah i've split them up and i'll post them separately. so lots of eärlindë in this and we get why he calls her mori as well hehe though little tidbit, this story line was abandoned cause i was not going to have reader meet celebrimbor but his father. yeah i realized the timeline did not match up for melkor's first chaining so it was scrapped. but still hope y'all like it if the timeline is a little janky, i wrote all this like the day after i kinda knew what i wanted to write.

masterlist // series playlist // mood board

His eyes swept over you as you entered the room. You were adorned in one of your delicate gossamer gowns, every curve and contour of your form illuminated for him to admire. Your hair cascaded in loose waves, catching the golden hues of the evening sun, which framed you in a soft, ethereal halo. To Mairon, you were nothing less than a goddess—one worthy of an altar in the sky.

Your marital bliss was still so fresh, though years had passed since you first wed. Yet, he could never see that glow fading. Even now, Mairon often felt unworthy of the love and devotion you so freely gave. The sins of his past had long since faded into memory, and he had begun to move through this burgeoning city with greater ease. Feeling more than fallen Maia.

He had even ventured beyond its borders, learning from other elven craftsmen despite being a smith of Aulë—even if none knew of his true origins.

And still, in the quiet depths of night, when sleep occasionally found him, his dreams were shadowed with the lingering fear that this fragile happiness might shatter, that his secret would one day be laid bare.

A warmth touched your face as you stood beside him, neatly laying his freshly folded clothes on the wooden stool there. His hand emerged from the warm bathwater, catching your wrist before you could slip away. Water dampened the sleeve of your gown as his grip held you in place.

“Moriel,” he purred, his soft green gaze locking onto yours, searching for something only you could give. “Join me.”

You giggled, a playful smile curving your lips as you shook your head.

“I’ve already started getting ready,” you teased, flicking your eyes toward the neatly folded clothes. “And so should you.”

You moved to pull away, but in one swift motion, Mairon tugged you forward, pulling you into the bath with him.

A surprised yelp escaped your lips as you splashed into the warm water, laughter bubbling up in its wake. Your gown, now drenched, clung to your body like a second skin, leaving nothing to his imagination.

A playful smile danced on your lips as you pushed yourself back, away from Mairon's reach.

"Now look what you've done," you chuckled, trying to wring the water out of your soaked gown.

Mairon simply shrugged, his eyes locked onto your body, unbridled desire shining in their depths.

"I don't see a problem," he replied huskily, inching closer to you in the bath. "You know how much I adore seeing you wet."

Your cheeks flushed at his words, feeling heat pool low in your belly at the thought of him seeing you like this.

"Is that so?" you teased, playing coy even as his hand reached for yours and pulled you into his lap.

It was moments like these that reminded Mairon why he had chosen this life with you over all others. The way you responded to his touch with such raw abandon drove him wild with desire. 

But for now, he contented himself with kissing every inch of skin he could reach—the slope of your neck, the dip between your collarbones, and down to the valley between your breasts. You could feel his arousal pressing against your heated core, and you shifted your hips, grinding against him with a devilish grin. Mairon let out a low growl, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled you even closer to him.

"Divine," Mairon growled against your skin. "Keep that up and we'll never make it to the gathering." 

You rolled your hips again teasingly. "Maybe that's my plan," you purred. "I'd rather feast on you right here."

With a groan, Mairon captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth with unrestrained hunger. You returned the kiss with equal fervor, the wet fabric of your nightgown brushing against his bare chest as you pressed yourself against him. 

His hands roamed your body, gliding over the translucent material clinging to your curves. Fingers deftly untied the laces at the front until the fabric loosened. With a tug, he peeled the wet gown off, exposing your body to his greedy gaze. 

"Beautiful," he murmured reverently, gleaming eyes drinking in every inch of your glistening skin. "My Mori, my goddess." 

His hands caressed your breasts, thumbs flicking over the sensitive peaks until you arched into his touch with a gasp. Mairon's lips trailed kisses down your throat as his fingers dipped between your thighs, finding your slick folds. You mewled and ground against his hand, chasing the delicious friction.

"Mairon, please," you breathed, head lolling back as two fingers plunged inside your heat. "I need you."

"Patience, my love," he purred, pumping his fingers slowly, savoring your silken walls clenching around him. "I want to worship you properly first."

You whined as his fingers withdrew, but it quickly turned into a moan as Mairon's hot mouth enveloped your breast once more, tongue swirling around the stiff peak. His teeth grazed your sensitive flesh, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

"Yes!" you cried out, threading your fingers through his damp coppery hair to hold him against you. 

Mairon lavished attention on your breasts, suckling and nipping until you were writhing in his lap, desperate for more. His arousal throbbed between your bodies, the velvet head brushing your stomach. You reached down to stroke him, relishing the deep groan that rumbled in his chest.

Panting, Mairon released your nipple with a soft pop, eyes dark with lust as they met yours. "I want to taste you, sweet one," he rasped.

 With a wicked grin, you rose up on your knees, granting Mairon access to your dripping core. His hands gripped your hips as he guided you to hover over his face. You had to brace yourself against the edge of the tub as Mairon's sinful mouth made contact with your sensitive flesh. 

"Oh Mairon," you gasped as his tongue parted your folds, lapping up your essence. He groaned appreciatively, the vibrations making you shudder. 

Mairon begun eating you out, tongue swirling around your pearl before delving deep inside you. Your thighs trembled on either side of his head as he brought you closer and closer to the edge with every skilled flick and thrust. He slipped two fingers inside your clenching cunt, pumping in time with his licks.

"Don't stop, my love," you panted, rocking your hips against Mairon's face as the coil in your belly wound tighter and tighter. "I'm so close..."

Mairon redoubled his efforts, fingers curling inside you to stroke that sensitive spot while he suckled on your swollen pearl. The intense pleasure crashed over you in waves and with a sob of ecstasy, you shattered. Your inner walls clamped down on his fingers as you rode out your high, Mairon's tongue lapping up every drop of your release. 

Gently, he guided you back down into the warm bathwater, cradling you against his chest. You could feel his hardness pressing insistently against your stomach and you squirmed in his lap, eager to return the favor. But Mairon's arms tightened around your waist, stilling your movements.

"Not yet, my love," he murmured in your ear. "I'm almost finished.”

Mairon's hand glided down your stomach to tease your sensitive folds once more. You shivered and arched into his touch, still swollen from your recent climax. His nimble fingers circled your pearl, coaxing soft mewls from your lips as he reignited your arousal.

"Mairon," you whimpered. "I want to please you too." 

"You already please me more than you know, sweet one," he purred, nipping at your pointed ear. "Watching you come undone is the most exquisite sight."

To emphasize his point, Mairon thrust two fingers deep inside your core, making you cry out and clench around the sudden intrusion. He pumped them slowly, thumb rubbing firm circles on your pearl. The warm water lapped at your sensitized skin as Mairon worked you back up to a fever pitch. His other hand kneaded your breast, rolling and pinching the stiff peak until you were panting and writhing against him.

"That's it, my goddess," Mairon growled, increasing the pace of his thrusting fingers. "Let me feel you fall apart for me again."

Your walls fluttered around his digits as the pressure built, every drag against that spot inside you bringing you closer to oblivion. Mairon's teeth grazed the junction of your neck and shoulder before biting down, marking you as his. The erotic mix of pain and pleasure sent you careening over the edge with a strangled moan. 

Mairon worked you through the aftershocks, fingers gentling as you came down from your high. You sagged bonelessly against his chest, utterly sated. But Mairon's own need still pulsed hard and insistent between your bodies. With a languid smile, you shifted in his arms to straddle his lap, positioning yourself above his straining arousal.

"I believe it's my turn to worship you now, husband," you purred.

Mairon's sea-foam green eyes locked onto yours, burning with unbridled desire as you reached between your bodies to grasp his thick length. He let out a low hiss as you ran your palm along his shaft, your thumb swirling around the weeping tip. You positioned him at your entrance, teasing him with slow, shallow rocks of your hips that barely took him inside.

"Mori," Mairon growled, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. "Stop tormenting me, you devilish woman.”

With a coquettish grin, you sank down slowly onto Mairon's throbbing arousal, enveloping him in your tight, wet heat. Twin moans of pleasure filled the steamy air as you seated yourself fully in his lap, relishing the delicious stretch and fullness. You paused for a moment, savoring the feeling of being one with your beloved husband.

Mairon's hands roamed your back, fingers tracing patterns on your damp skin as he gazed up at you with adoration and desire. "My beautiful wife," he breathed reverently. "I am forever yours."

"As I am yours, my love," you whispered back, capturing his lips in a deep, sensual kiss. 

Slowly, you began to rock your hips on Mairon's thick shaft. The warm water lapped at your joined bodies, heightening every sensation. Mairon groaned into the kiss, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he relished in your movements.

You set a languid pace, wanting to savor every blissful slide of his hardness inside your velvet walls. Mairon's hands glided up your sides to cup your breasts, kneading the soft mounds and teasing your nipples with flicks of his thumbs. You arched into his touch with a breathy moan, the dual stimulation sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins.

"Mori," Mairon panted against your lips. "You feel incredible. So perfect around me."

"Mairon," you whimpered, circling your hips to grind against him. "You fill me so well, my love."

Mairon's hands slid down to grip your rear, guiding your movements as you undulated in his lap. The slick slide of your bodies, the erotic sounds of water lapping against heated skin, drove you both wild with lust. You increased your pace, moving to rise and fall on his thick shaft with wanton abandon. 

Mairon's head fell back against the edge of the tub, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as you rode him harder, faster. The coil of pleasure wound tighter in your core with every thrust, every drag of his cock inside you. You clenched around him, eliciting a strangled moan from Mairon's lips.

"Yes, just like that," he panted, hips snapping up to meet your downward thrusts. "Don't stop, I'm so close..."

You could feel your own release rapidly approaching, the relentless friction sending you spiraling towards that blissful edge. One hand gripped the edge of the tub for leverage while the other tangled in Mairon's damp hair, tugging him in for a sloppy, desperate kiss. Your tongues tangled and teeth clashed as you devoured each other, pouring all your love and passion into the heated embrace.

"Mairon, I'm close," you whimpered against his lips, walls fluttering around his length. "Come with me, my love."

"Together," Mairon groaned, one hand snaking between your bodies to rub firm circles on your swollen pearl. The added stimulation was all it took to send you flying over the edge with a keening cry of ecstasy. Your inner walls clamped down on Mairon's throbbing length, milking him for all he was worth as your orgasm crashed over you in intense waves of pleasure.

Mairon followed you a heartbeat later, spilling himself deep inside you with a hoarse call of your name. His hips jerked erratically as he emptied himself in long, hot spurts, your velvet heat coaxing every last drop from his pulsing shaft. 

You collapsed against Mairon's chest, both of you trembling and panting harshly as you came down from your mutual highs. Mairon's arms wrapped around you tightly, holding you close as he pressed soft kisses to your damp hair and temples. You nuzzled into his neck, savoring his warmth and the comforting scent of ash and soot that always clung to his skin.

For long moments, you simply held each other, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking and the tranquility of the warm bathwater lapping at your sated bodies. Mairon's hands roamed your back in soothing caresses, fingers tracing idle patterns on your damp skin. You sighed contentedly, utterly at peace in your husband's strong arms.

Eventually, Mairon shifted, gently lifting you off his softening length. You whimpered at the loss, feeling empty without him filling you so completely. He chuckled softly at your pout, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. 

"As much as I would love to stay here with you all night, my goddess," Mairon murmured, "we do have a gathering to get to,” Reminding you of your earlier comment to him. 

You let out a languid sigh, nodding reluctantly. "I suppose you're right, my love. Though I can think of no finer feast than the one we just shared."

Mairon grinned at that, green eyes sparkling with mirth and adoration. "I couldn't agree more, sweet one. But alas, duty calls." 

With that, he stood, rivulets of water cascading down his toned body as he stepped out of the tub. You admired the play of muscles under his skin, the way his damp hair clung to his neck and shoulders. He was a vision of masculine beauty, and he was all yours.

Mairon turned, extending a hand to help you up. You grasped it, allowing him to pull you to your feet and out of the cooling bathwater. He enfolded you in a plush towel, rubbing your skin dry with gentle, attentive strokes. You practically purred at his ministrations, relishing his care. Once he was satisfied that every inch of you was dry, Mairon wrapped the towel snugly around your body before grabbing another for himself.

You padded over to the vanity, picking up your silver-handled hairbrush. Before you could begin detangling your damp tresses, Mairon's hand covered yours. "Allow me, my love," he murmured, taking the brush and guiding you to sit on the cushioned stool.

With infinite tenderness, Mairon ran the brush through your hair, carefully working out the knots and tangles. You closed your eyes, sighing contentedly at the soothing sensation. It never failed to amaze you how hands so powerful, so skilled at crafting wonders and forging metal, could be so incredibly gentle. Mairon treated you like the most precious treasure, every touch a whispered declaration of his love and devotion.

As he brushed your hair to a glossy sheen, his fingers would occasionally ghost along the elegant point of your ear or the nape of your neck, sending delicious shivers down your spine. With practiced ease, he separated sections of your hair, deftly twisting and braiding the strands into an intricate style fit for a queen. When he was finished, he reached for the silvery hairpiece on your vanity—the same one you had worn on your wedding night—and carefully placed it among his handiwork. The white jewels and silvery metal gleamed in the flickering candlelight, a reflection of the stars.

"Beautiful," Mairon murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as he admired his masterpiece in the mirror. "A vision of perfection, as always."

You smiled at his reflection, eyes glowing with love and adoration. "Only because I have you by my side, my love," you replied, turning to loop your arms around his neck. "You make me feel cherished and radiant every single day."

Mairon's eyes softened, a tender smile gracing his lips as he pulled you flush against him. "You are my everything, Moriel," he whispered ardently. "My heart, my fëa. I will spend eternity showing you just how deeply I adore you."

Your heart swelled at his heartfelt declaration, a lump forming in your throat. Even after all this time, Mairon still had the power to make you feel like a blushing maiden with his poetic words and passionate devotion. Rising onto your toes, you captured his lips in a slow, sweet kiss, pouring all your love into the gentle caress.

"As I adore you, Mairon," you breathed.

Mairon returned the kiss with equal tenderness, his arms tightening around your waist. These quiet, intimate moments with you were his greatest treasure, filling him with a deep sense of peace and contentment he had never known before you entered his life.

Reluctantly, you broke the kiss, gazing up at Mairon with a warm smile. "As much as I would love to stay in your arms all night, my darling, we really should finish getting ready." You said, repeating his earlier words.

Mairon let out a dramatic sigh, a playful pout forming on his sensual lips. "If we must," he conceded. "Though I plan to hold you in my arms and shower you with kisses the moment we return from the gathering."

You giggled, pressing a quick peck to his pouting mouth. "I shall hold you to that promise, husband."

With that, you gently disentangled yourself from his embrace and watched as he walked back into the washroom, where his neatly folded robes awaited him. You smiled softly, content with everything that had transpired before moving to retrieve the gown hanging on the door of your wardrobe.

It was a soft, velvety blue gown adorned with sparkling diamonds, stitched into the fabric in delicate, star-like patterns. The craftsmanship was so exquisite, it seemed almost as if Vairë herself had woven it from the very threads of the night sky. It felt too grand, too regal for a woman like you to wear—meant instead for a queen.

Yet Mairon had brought it back from his visit to Gondolin, wrapped in an opulent box, his eyes alight with anticipation as he presented it to you. The moment you unfolded the gown, your heart had stuttered in your chest. It was breathtaking, and though you had deemed it unnecessary—believing you had no occasion grand enough to wear such a masterpiece—Mairon had been insistent. He had urged you to try it on, and to your amazement, it fit as though it had been tailored for you alone.

And then, when you turned to face him, you saw the look in his eyes—pure, unguarded adoration.

"You truly are a goddess, my love," he had whispered.

His words had made you flush with warmth, for you had never felt as such. But beneath his gaze, beneath his touch, you felt as though you were Varda herself.

"Do you need help?" Mairon’s voice pulled you back to the present.

You turned to find him watching you, a soft smile gracing his lips. He had already donned his elegant crimson robes, the intricate embroidery catching the candlelight like embers in a fire. He looked every inch the regal lord, his copper hair cascading over his shoulders in molten waves. Your breath caught at the sight of him—still, after all these years, you could scarcely believe this magnificent being had chosen you as his wife for all eternity.

"Yes, please," you admitted, holding up the sumptuous gown. "I don't think I can manage these tiny pearl buttons on my own."

Mairon crossed the room, his eyes gleaming with warmth and affection. "It would be my pleasure, my love," he murmured, taking the gown from your hands and holding it open for you to step into.

You let the towel slip to the floor and slipped your arms through the delicate sleeves of the gown. The luxurious fabric whispered against your skin as Mairon eased it over your shoulders, helping you shimmy it up your body. His fingertips traced feather-light paths along your sides and back as he worked, igniting small sparks of pleasure in their wake. You shivered at the sensation, though you could not tell whether it was from the cool touch of the fabric or the searing warmth of his hands.

With deft fingers, Mairon began fastening the three tiny pearl buttons that ran up the small of your back. Each brush of his knuckles against your spine sent tingles racing through you. He worked slowly, almost reverently, savoring the intimate moment before a single finger trailed up your back, tracing the exposed skin where the gown remained open.

"You take my breath away, Mori," Mairon murmured, his warm breath fanning across your neck as he secured the final button at the nape of your neck, fastening the delicate shoulders of your gown in place. His fingertips lingered for a moment before tracing down the elegant curve of your back. "This gown suits you perfectly, as if it were woven for you alone."

You turned in his arms, gazing up at him with shining eyes. "Only because you chose it for me, my darling," you replied softly, reaching up to caress his chiseled cheek. "Your impeccable taste and eye for beauty never cease to amaze me."

Mairon leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment as he savored your gentle caress. "It is easy to choose beautiful things when I have perfection incarnate as my muse and inspiration," he purred, turning his head to press a tender kiss to your palm.

A delicate blush stained your cheeks at his heartfelt praise. Even after all this time, Mairon's poetic declarations of love and adoration still made your heart flutter like a hummingbird’s wings. You doubted you would ever grow accustomed to being so cherished and revered.

Mairon's hand came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing across your flushed cheek. "My blushing bride," he teased gently, soft green eyes twinkling with mirth and affection. "Even after all this time, I can still make you blush with my words alone."

You playfully swatted his chest, an adoring smile tugging at your lips. “That silvery tongue of yours is going to get you trouble," you chided. "Keep your honeyed words for the gathering. We’re going to be late if we tarry much longer."

Mairon heaved an exaggerated sigh, his hands sliding down to rest on your hips. "As my lady commands," he acquiesced, though the wicked glint in his eye told you he was not quite finished with his amorous attentions.

He leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, "But once we return, I fully intend to worship every inch of you until you are trembling and breathless with pleasure. Until the only word your lips remember is my name."

A shiver raced down your spine at his husky promise, heat pooling low in your belly. Your fingers tightened slightly where they rested on his chest, and for a fleeting moment, the thought of skipping the gathering altogether crossed your mind. But Mairon had grown to enjoy these grand affairs, or it was seeing you all made up and in your finery that drove him towards it. But in your heart you knew he would rather spend the night tangled in your embrace.

"I look forward to it, my love," you breathed, letting your lips brush fleetingly against his.

With a final heated look, Mairon stepped back and offered you his arm. "Shall we?"

You placed your hand in the crook of his elbow, a radiant smile blooming across your lips. "Lead the way, my dear husband."

Arm in arm, the two of you departed your home, stepping out into the moonlit streets of Laureandor.

Once at the gathering, you moved to envelop Eärlindë as she approached, her expression bright with delight. She returned your warm embrace, her laughter like the chime of silver bells.

"Tintilmë, you look absolutely stunning!" she exclaimed, holding you at arm’s length to admire your resplendent gown. "That color suits you beautifully."

You beamed at her praise, giving a little twirl to show off the shimmering fabric. "Thank you, my dear friend. It was a gift from Mairon."

Eärlindë’s eyes sparkled with mirth as she cast a glance toward your husband, who was engaged in conversation with a group of Noldorin lords. "He certainly has exquisite taste—in both fashion and wives," she teased, nudging you playfully.

You laughed, linking your arm with hers as the two of you began to weave your way through the gathering. The space had been transformed into something truly magical—golden lanterns hung from the trees, casting a warm, celestial glow over the revelers. The air was thick with the scent of exotic dishes and the sweet aroma of delicate confections. Soft music drifted through the night, mingling with the gentle hum of conversation and bursts of joyous laughter.

"It’s like something out of a dream," you sighed, your eyes drinking in the twinkling lights and elegantly dressed guests.

Eärlindë nodded, a smile gracing her lips. "The Noldor lords certainly elicit a grand response when their delegation arrives. Mother always goes overboard, seemingly feeling the need to prove herself or something." she commented as you looked around at all the elves present.

Many were from court, a court you never attended but knew. Whereas the taller ones you knew were high elves. Their opulent gowns, finery, and jewels all of Valinor. A place nether you or Eärlindë had seen.

Nor did you ever want to.

As you moved through the crowd, stopping occasionally to exchange greetings with familiar faces, you found yourself marveling at the unexpected path your life had taken.

From awakening in the woods of Cuiviénen, drinking from the sweet waters, migrating west with kin, traveling among the other Moriquendi and relishing in the beauty of Arda herself.

Never in your wildest imaginings did you expect to one day stand amongst the nobility of elves that were far younger than you, let alone knew of Beleriand’s true beauty.

Eventually, you and Eärlindë made your way to one of the long tables laden with delicacies, both savory and sweet. Crystal goblets filled with rich, fragrant wine gleamed invitingly under the lantern light. You each took a glass, moving to stand at the edge of the gathering where the view of the glowing garden stretched before you like an enchanted realm.

As you sipped your wine, movement from the corner of your eye caught your attention. A small cluster of elven ladies had gathered nearby, whispering and casting furtive glances in your direction. A few of them even had the audacity to point at your gown, their expressions laced with thinly veiled envy.

You felt a flicker of unease. Was the gown too ostentatious? Perhaps you should have chosen something simpler. But then you recalled the way Mairon had looked at you, as if you had woven the very stars into existence. His words echoed in your mind—"You truly are a goddess, my love."

Squaring your shoulders, you met the envious stares of the high elven ladies with a serene smile, refusing to let their pettiness diminish your joy.

Eärlindë, who had noticed the change in your posture, followed your gaze. When she spotted the gaggle of gossiping women, her brows furrowed in irritation. "Pay them no mind, Tintilmë," she murmured, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze. "They are merely bitter that your radiance outshines them all. Let them choke on their own jealousy."

You couldn’t help but chuckle at Eärlindë’s blunt words, grateful for her unwavering support. "You’re right, of course," you replied, taking another sip of your wine.

Your eyes wandered across the garden, searching for Mairon. It did not take long to find him. His crimson robes a striking contrast against the more subdued hues of the gathering. The coppery sheen of his hair caught the lantern light like molten fire, making him stand out effortlessly.

He was deep in conversation with a tall elven lord, whose finely embroidered outer robe bore a smith’s insignia—a fellow craftsman, no doubt. You could only imagine the topic at hand, likely some intricate discussion of metalwork or a trade of forging secrets.

As if sensing your gaze, Mairon glanced up, his sea-green eyes meeting yours instantly. A slow, knowing smile curved his lips, his expression filled with open adoration. With the barest tilt of his head, he beckoned you forward.

You turned to Eärlindë with an apologetic smile. "If you’ll excuse me, my dear, I believe my husband requires my attention."

Eärlindë followed your gaze, her smile turning knowing as she saw Mairon’s besotted expression. "Of course, mellon. Go to him. I’ll be just fine on my own."

With a grateful nod, you made your way through the gathering, your skirts swishing around your ankles as you moved with effortless grace. The envious stares of the high elven ladies burned into your back, but you paid them no heed. There was only one pair of eyes you cared for, and they were already fixed on you with unwavering devotion.

As you approached Mairon, the elven lord beside him turned his gaze upon you. He was taller which was typical of High Elves, with dark hair bound neatly at the nape of his neck, his strong features marked with a regal air. When he inclined his head in greeting, it was not the casual acknowledgment one would offer an acquaintance—it was a bow of deference, as if he expected you to be of higher station than you truly were.

And then recognition struck.

Curufin.

Your breath hitched slightly as you lowered into a respectful curtsy. You had heard of him before—one of Fëanor’s sons, a master smith in his own right. More importantly, he was a name you knew through Eärlindë’s brother, who had fought beside him in the early years of the war.

Rising gracefully, you met his gaze with composed politeness. "My Lord Curufin," you greeted, your voice steady despite the unexpectedness of his presence.

His dark eyes flickered with something unreadable before he inclined his head once more. "My lady," he greeted, his tone measured yet not unkind.

Mairon’s hand found the small of your back, his touch grounding you as always. “This is my wife, Tintilmë,” he said smoothly, his voice carrying the warmth of pride—but also a subtle edge of possession.

Curufin turned fully to you, taking your outstretched hand with practiced elegance. He brought it to his lips, pressing a chaste yet deliberate kiss to the delicate skin atop your knuckles. His lips lingered just a heartbeat too long for your husband's comfort. The shift was almost imperceptible, but you felt it—the tightening of Mairon’s grip against the small of your back, his fingers bunching the fine fabric of your gown ever so slightly.

"A pleasure, my lady," Curufin said as he released your hand and straightened to his full height. His gaze gleamed with something unreadable, a hint of amusement dancing in their depths. "It is not every day one has the privilege of meeting a maiden truly blessed by Varda herself."

Your face warmed at the unexpected compliment, but before you could formulate a response, you felt the slow rise and fall of Mairon's chest behind you. A glance upward confirmed your suspicion—his jaw was set, his expression composed, but the steel beneath his impassive exterior was unmistakable.

Possessiveness radiated from him like the smoldering heat of a forge, restrained but simmering beneath the surface. You knew that look well. While others might have mistaken his silence for indifference, you could see the warning in the slight clench of his jaw and the unyielding grip on your gown.

Curufin, it seemed, had noticed as well. A ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, as though he relished in pushing just enough to test the edges of Mairon’s restraint.

You cleared your throat delicately, hoping to diffuse the tension that crackled between the two smiths like a forge at full heat. "You are too kind, my lord," you replied graciously, offering Curufin a measured smile. "But I assure you, I am no more blessed than any other elf here tonight."

Curufin’s eyes glittered with intrigue, the corner of his mouth curving in something that was not quite a smirk. "Modesty becomes you, my lady. But surely you must know that your radiance outshines all others present." His gaze flickered briefly to Mairon before returning to you, keen and calculating. "A true jewel of Beleriand."

Before you could formulate a response, Mairon’s arm slipped fully around your waist, pulling you flush against his side in a blatant display of possession. His fingers pressed firmly into the fabric of your gown, a silent declaration of claim. "My wife's beauty is indeed unparalleled," he agreed, his voice a low, velvety purr that sent a shiver down your spine. "As is her grace and kindness. I am truly the most fortunate of elves to call her mine."

A warm flush crept up your neck at Mairon’s ardent words, his unwavering devotion sending a rush of heat through you. No matter how many times he declared his love, his admiration, it never failed to set your heart aflutter. Leaning into his embrace, you placed your hand over his where it rested on your hip, entwining your fingers in a silent reassurance that you belonged to no one but him.

Curufin inclined his head in acknowledgment, though the gleam in his eyes remained, assessing and appraising. "Indeed, you are a fortunate elf, Mairon," he mused, his tone almost too casual. "To have found such a rare treasure and claimed her as your own." A flicker of something unreadable passed through his gaze, his lips curving just slightly. "One can only hope you fully... appreciate her value."

The barely veiled insinuation made your stomach tighten, and you felt Mairon’s fingers flex against your hip, betraying the slow burn of anger beneath his controlled exterior. "I can assure you, Lord Curufin," he replied evenly, each syllable measured and precise, "that I cherish my wife above all else in this world. Her worth to me is beyond measure."

The unspoken warning in his tone was unmistakable—sharp as a honed dagger, a threat woven into civility. For a long moment, neither smith spoke, their gazes locked in a silent battle of wills. The air between them thrummed with the kind of tension that spoke of grudges unspoken and rivalries long since settled in steel and fire.

You glanced between them anxiously, your heart pounding. Though a small, primal part of you found the intensity of their regard thrilling, you knew better than to let this continue unchecked. The last thing you wished was for your presence to sow discord at what should have been a joyous gathering.

It was Curufin who broke the standoff, though the smirk that ghosted across his lips suggested he had achieved precisely what he intended. He inclined his head in a gesture that was both deferential and mocking. "Of that, I have no doubt," he drawled smoothly, his voice as rich and polished as the finest tempered steel. "Your devotion to your fair wife is admirable, Mairon. A lesser elf might find himself... distracted by such beauty." His eyes glinted, his meaning unmistakable.

Mairon’s grip tightened ever so slightly, his body rigid against yours. "Then it is fortunate that I am no lesser elf," he countered coolly, his words edged with steel.

Curufin’s smirk widened, a knowing gleam in his gaze as though Mairon had walked straight into his carefully laid verbal snare. But rather than press the point further, he merely dipped his head, feigning politeness. He had done what he came to do—test the edges of Mairon's restraint, and perhaps remind him that there were others who took notice of what he held most dear.

Satisfied, he straightened, offering a bow more formal than truly necessary. "I will take my leave," he said smoothly, his voice carrying just a whisper of amusement. "It was a pleasure speaking with you again, my lord." He turned to you then, his eyes settling on yours with an inscrutable look. "And an honor to meet you, my lady. For it is rare to meet a true child of Ilúvatar.”

With that, he gave a deeper, more measured bow and moved past you both, disappearing into the throng of guests.

Only when he was out of sight did you feel the full force of the tension leave Mairon’s frame. His fingers still rested against your hip, but they no longer pressed possessively—rather, they traced slow, absentminded circles against the fabric of your gown. You turned to him, catching the flicker of something dangerous in his eyes, something simmering just beneath the surface.

You exhaled softly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Mairon," you murmured, coaxing him to meet your gaze.

His eyes softened, the glacial edge thawing ever so slightly. "He seeks to provoke," he muttered, his voice a thread of controlled ire. "And I do not take kindly to games where you are the prize."

You smiled gently, reaching up to trace your fingers along his jaw, easing away the tightness there. "I am no one's prize," you whispered. "I am yours. Always."

The heat in his gaze darkened, possessive in a way that sent a thrill through your veins. He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your fingers. "Yes," he murmured, his voice a promise. "Mine."

The intensity of Mairon's gaze, the fervent promise in that single word, sent a shiver of desire down your spine. In that moment, you wanted nothing more than to melt into his embrace, propriety be damned. But you were still very much in public, surrounded by curious eyes and wagging tongues. The last thing you needed was to provide more fodder for the envious whispers of the elite.

Even if it would give Eärlindë something to gossip about.

Reluctantly, you stepped back, placing a more respectable distance between your bodies while still keeping your hand entwined with Mairon’s. "Later, my love," you murmured, a coy smile playing at the corners of your lips. "When we are alone, I will show you just how thoroughly I am yours."

Mairon's eyes darkened with barely restrained hunger, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he visibly struggled to rein in his desire. "I will hold you to that promise, sweet one," he purred, his voice a dark caress that sent heat pooling low in your belly. "And I intend to worship every inch of you until there is no doubt in your mind or body to whom you belong."

A delicious shiver raced down your spine at his fervent declaration. Oh, how you ached to drag him away from the festivities and lose yourself in his embrace. But duty and propriety demanded your presence a while longer. With a soft sigh, you gave his hand a final squeeze before reluctantly releasing it.

"I look forward to it, husband," you murmured, your voice husky with promise. “Though perhaps we should mingle separately for a while longer," you suggested, hoping a bit of distance might help.

Mairon exhaled slowly, as though grounding himself, before offering a slight nod. A flicker of reluctance passed through his soft green eyes at the loss of your touch, but he understood. Much as you both longed to remain by each other’s side, it would be wise to circulate separately, lest your mutual distraction become too apparent to the ever-watchful nobles.

"Save a dance for me later," you whispered, your tone sweet with anticipation. "I will be counting the moments until I am back in your arms."

Mairon’s gaze softened, his sculpted lips curving into a tender smile. "For you, my heart, I would wait an eternity." He lifted your hand to his mouth, pressing a lingering kiss to your knuckles that sent tingles racing up your arm. "But I will be counting the moments all the same."

With one final heated look that promised delights yet to come, Mairon released your hand and stepped back, allowing you to glide into the glittering throng of revelers. Though your body instantly mourned the loss of his closeness, you knew the anticipation would only make your reunion all the sweeter.

You moved through the crowd with practiced ease, your luminous gown drawing admiring glances and murmured compliments as you passed. Outwardly, you were the picture of serene grace, exchanging polite smiles and nods with nobles and dignitaries alike. But beneath that carefully composed facade, your mind still reeled from the tense exchange between Mairon and Lord Curufin.

The Noldor smith had always been a master of barbed words, and tonight had been no exception. His thinly veiled insinuations—about you, about Mairon, about the nature of your marriage—had clearly struck a nerve. Your husband, usually so impervious to provocation, had barely concealed the simmering fury beneath his polished veneer. You could still recall the way his fingers had tightened around yours, how his voice had taken on that dangerous, silken edge that only appeared when he was at the precipice of temper.

A part of you should have been unsettled. And yet, a dark thrill curled in your belly, knowing that you had the power to stir such intensity in him. That your love—your mere presence—could fracture the iron control of a man who prided himself on his unshakable composure. A shiver of anticipation danced down your spine as you imagined how he would stake that claim in private, how he would worship you with all the fervor of a disciple before an altar, possessive and unrelenting.

Lost in your musings, you nearly failed to notice Eärlindë appear at your elbow, her expression alight with mischief. In her hands, she carried two new crystal goblets, their contents catching the glow of the lanterns in warm amber hues. She extended one to you with a knowing smile, her keen eyes flickering over your dreamy, distracted expression.

"I know that look," she teased gently.

You accepted the proffered goblet with a grateful smile, taking a sip of the chilled, honey-sweet wine. "Am I truly so transparent?" you asked ruefully, feeling a telltale warmth creeping into your cheeks.

Eärlindë laughed, a melodic sound that turned a few curious heads. "Only to one who knows you as well as I do," she assured you, her smile laced with sisterly affection. "Let me guess—your devastatingly handsome husband has just promised to ravish you senseless the moment he gets you alone."

The wine nearly caught in your throat as a fierce blush bloomed across your cheeks. You gave her an exasperated look, but the amusement in her eyes only deepened.

"Not in so many words," you admitted, lowering your voice to ensure it wouldn’t carry to prying ears. "But Lord Curufin seems to have gotten under his skin with a few ill-advised remarks regarding my… allure." You shook your head, torn between flattery and exasperation at the memory of the Noldor lord’s casual provocations. "I fear my poor husband may be driven to distraction with the need to stake his claim.”

Eärlindë’s brows arched, intrigue sparking in her gaze. "My, my, the infamous Curufin taking notice of our sweet Tintilmë? You do aim high, my friend." She chuckled, taking a dainty sip of her own wine as her eyes scanned the room, no doubt searching for the elf lord in question.

"Believe me, his attentions are entirely unwarranted," you said hastily, as if that alone would deter her interest. But this was Eärlindë—once she caught the scent of gossip, she would not easily be dissuaded.

She hummed, clearly unconvinced, and her lips curled into a sly grin. "Oh, I don’t doubt that. But that won’t stop me from enjoying the scandal of it all." Her voice dropped conspiratorially. "Tell me, did Mairon look ready to strike him down where he stood? Or was he simply seething in that quiet, terrifying way of his?"

You gave her a pointed look, but despite your best efforts, a small, traitorous smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

"Perhaps a bit of both," you confessed.

Eärlindë grinned triumphantly. "Delicious. Do you think Mairon would let me watch when he exacts his vengeance? No doubt it will be something terribly dramatic."

You sighed, though you couldn’t quite suppress the amusement bubbling beneath your breath. "You are incorrigible."

"And you love me for it," Eärlindë said breezily, though a knowing gleam sparked in her eyes. She tilted her head, studying you with mild amusement before arching a delicate brow. "So, the renowned smith of Himlad has decided to test our Mairon's mettle, has he? I can't say I'm entirely surprised."

You frowned, swirling the wine in your goblet. "What do you mean?"

Your friend leaned in conspiratorially, her voice dropping just enough to ensure your conversation remained private. "Curufin is known for his sharp tongue and his taste for mind games. He enjoys pushing boundaries, needling just enough to see how far he can prod before someone snaps. Especially those he considers potential rivals."

"Rivals?" you echoed, puzzled. "Surely he doesn't see Mairon as a threat. Their crafts are distinct, and Mairon has never shown an interest in playing politics."

Eärlindë chuckled softly, her lips curving in that way that made you feel slightly naïve despite your own wisdom. "Oh, my sweet, oblivious Tintilmë. For all your years, you can still be so blind sometimes." She took a sip of her wine before continuing. "This isn’t about craftsmanship or politics—it’s about pride." Her gaze flickered across the room, seeking Curufin among the revelers. "Curufin is used to being the most sought-after presence in any gathering. He commands attention simply by being who he is. But tonight, all eyes are on you and Mairon. You outshine everyone, and he can't stand being eclipsed, even for a moment."

You blinked, absorbing her words. "So, he’s trying to unsettle Mairon out of… jealousy? Petty rivalry?"

Eärlindë inclined her head slightly, though her expression turned more contemplative. "Jealousy, perhaps, but not just that. He’s also testing Mairon, taking the measure of his mind and spirit, trying to see what lies beneath that flawless composure."

A flicker of unease curled in your gut. "To what end? What could he possibly hope to gain by provoking my husband?"

"Knowledge, leverage, or simply the satisfaction of cracking a particularly well-guarded puzzle," she mused, swirling the wine in her goblet. "Curufin’s motives are rarely straightforward. But one thing is certain—he wouldn’t bother engaging Mairon at all if he didn’t see him as an equal. In a twisted way, this may be Curufin’s version of a compliment."

You let out a soft huff, shaking your head. "I can think of far more pleasant ways to pay a compliment," you muttered before taking a fortifying sip of wine. "Ways that don’t involve trying to drive a wedge between newlyweds."

Eärlindë smirked, reaching out to squeeze your arm reassuringly. "Pay him no mind, mellon. Mairon adores you far too much to let Curufin’s petty machinations sway him." Her eyes glimmered with playful mischief as she added, "If anything, I suspect this little display has only inflamed your husband’s desire to worship you properly once you’re alone."

Heat crept up your neck at her words, your body already thrumming with anticipation for Mairon’s ardent attentions. You let out a soft laugh, shaking off the wicked images forming in your mind. "You are incorrigible," you said, though your grateful squeeze of her hand betrayed your fondness.

"Honestly, what would you do without my wisdom and encouragement?"

"Get into even more trouble, no doubt," you teased back, matching her grin. "Someone has to keep me grounded amidst all this opulence and intrigue."

"Exactly," she said with a wink. "Now, let’s at least pretend we’re enjoying the party before someone starts whispering that your dear husband has already whisked you away."

You chuckled, but even as you kept up the appearance of polite engagement, your gaze inevitably strayed across the glittering throng. Your eyes found Mairon with an unerring pull, as if drawn by some invisible thread. He stood among a cluster of lords, speaking with his usual elegance, yet there was a tautness to his posture, a barely concealed impatience beneath his mask of control.

And then, as if sensing your gaze, he turned.

His sea-green eyes locked onto yours, and even across the crowded courtyard, you could see the fire smoldering in their depths. A silent promise. A vow unspoken yet utterly clear. Your breath hitched, anticipation coiling within you.

Mairon inclined his head almost imperceptibly, an acknowledgment of the charged energy crackling between you. The corners of his sensual lips curled into the barest hint of a smirk—a warning, a tease, a promise of what was to come.

Then, with a smooth farewell to his companions, he excused himself. His long strides ate up the distance between you, his presence commanding even in so casual a movement. Within moments, he was standing before you and Eärlindë, his gaze flickering briefly to your friend before settling back on you, dark with intent.

"May I steal my wife for a dance?" he inquired smoothly, offering you his hand.

Eärlindë, sipping from her glass, gave you a sidelong glance and wiggled her brows in barely concealed amusement.

A fresh wave of heat flooded your cheeks as you placed your hand in his, your fingers curling instinctively around his own. He helped you step gracefully down from where you had been standing, his touch sending sparks racing up your arm.

You handed your goblet to Eärlindë, who accepted it with an exaggerated air of suffering. "Have fun," she said with a teasing lilt. "And do try not to scandalize anyone—at least not too much."

Mairon’s smirk deepened as he led you onto the dance floor, the music swelling around you in soft, lilting strains. His arm slid around your waist as he pulled you close, his touch both possessive and reverent. You exhaled, tilting your head to meet his gaze, and in that moment, nothing else in the grand, glittering courtyard existed but the two of you.

As he led you through the steps of the dance, his emerald eyes bored into yours, dark with unspoken promise. "You are a vision, my love," he murmured, his voice a low caress that sent shivers racing down your spine. "A goddess made flesh. I can scarcely keep my hands off you."

You melted into his embrace, your body molding perfectly to his as you moved together in the age-old rhythm. "Then don't," you breathed.

Your words sent a jolt of desire straight to Mairon's core. His grip on your waist tightened as he spun you gracefully across the dance floor, the two of you moving as one. Every brush of his body against yours stoked the flames of your mutual longing, until you felt you might combust from the sheer intensity of his gaze.

"Careful what you wish for, sweet one," Mairon growled, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "Keep testing my restraint, and I may just ravish you right here, propriety be damned."

You shivered, your blood heating at his promise. Rising slowly, you met his burning gaze through your lashes. "And what's stopping you, husband?" you asked, your voice husky. "I seem to recall you promising to worship me until I remember naught but your name.”

Mairon's eyes flashed, his grip on your waist tightening to an almost bruising pressure. "Mori," he growled, his voice rough with barely restrained desire. "You tempt me beyond reason."

In a move almost too swift to follow, he spun you off the dance floor and into a darkened side garden, hidden from prying eyes. His powerful body caged you against a cool stone pillar, his lips claiming yours in a searing kiss that stole the breath from your lungs.

You melted into him, your fingers tangling in his silken hair as you returned his kiss with equal fervor. Mairon's hands roved over your body, mapping every curve and hollow as if he would commit them to memory. When his nimble fingers found the buttons of your gown, you tore your mouth from his with a gasp.

"Mairon," you panted. "What if..." 

Despite your halfhearted protest, your body arched into his touch, craving more. Mairon's lips curved into a wicked smirk against your throat as he continued his sensual assault. 

"No one will find us, sweet one," he purred, his fingers deftly undoing the top button of your gown to expose your heaving chest as the velvet shoulders slipped downward. "I'll be quick. I just need a taste..."

You shuddered as his hot mouth descended to your chest, tongue swirling around a taut nipple. A breathy moan escaped your lips and your fingers tightened in his hair, holding him to you. Mairon growled his approval, the sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh.

He released your peaked bud with a soft pop before trailing open-mouthed kisses across the swell of your breasts. "I need you, Mori," Mairon growled against your heated skin. "I need to claim you, mark you, make you scream my name until there's no doubt who you belong to."

"Yes," you gasped, arching wantonly into his touch. "I'm yours, Mairon, only yours. Take me, please..."

With a groan of satisfaction, Mairon sealed his lips over yours in a deep, plundering kiss. His fingers bunched in the skirts of your gown, hitching the flowing fabric up your thighs. You whimpered into his mouth as his hand found your heated center, cupping you possessively. The heat of his hand against the growing wetness there, sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine.

"So wet for me already,” He chuckled darkly. With deft fingers, he sank two digits deep into your aching core. A keening moan tore from your throat as he began to pump them slowly, his thumb circling your sensitive pearl. Mairon swallowed your cries with his lips, mindful of the need for discretion even in his passion-fueled haze.

"That's it, sweet one," he rasped against your mouth. "Let me feel you, all of you. I want to drown in your essence, be consumed by your fire.”

Incoherent pleas and praises fell from your lips as Mairon worked you higher, his clever fingers unraveling you with ruthless precision. The wet sounds of his digits thrusting into your slick cunt filled the air, mingling with your breathy moans and the distant strains of music from the gathering. The delicious scandal of it all—your husband fingering you to ecstasy in a darkened garden while a hundred nobles drank and danced mere yards away—only heightened your pleasure, edging you closer to that elusive peak.

"Mairon, please," you whimpered, writhing against him as the coil in your core wound tighter and tighter. "I need... I need..."

"I know, sweet one," Mairon growled, nipping at your kiss-swollen lips as a third finger joined the first two, stretching you exquisitely.

You gasped at the addition, your inner walls clenching greedily around Mairon's plundering digits. The building pressure in your core was almost unbearable now, your entire being focused on the exquisite sensations radiating from where Mairon played your body like a finely tuned instrument.

"That's it, my love," he purred against your ear. "Sing for me. Let me hear those sweet sounds of your pleasure."

His fingers curled inside you, stroking that sweet spot that made stars burst behind your tightly closed eyelids. Your thighs trembled, barely able to support you as Mairon drove you closer and closer to the edge of bliss.

"Mairon!" you keened, your nails digging into his shoulders as you teetered on the precipice. "I'm going to...I can't..."

"Yes, you can," Mairon growled, his fingers pumping harder, faster, his thumb grinding mercilessly against your throbbing pearl. "Come for me, Mori. Let go, sweet one. Shatter for me."

His dark, sensual command sent you over the edge. With a choked cry, you flew apart, your release crashing over you in shuddering waves of ecstasy. Your inner walls clenched almost painfully around Mairon's fingers as they gentled you through the aftershocks, drawing out your pleasure until you were limp and quivering in his arms.

Mairon's soft green eyes burned into yours as he slowly, deliberately sucked your essence from his fingers, savoring your taste like the finest wine. The sight of his sensual mouth wrapped around those same digits that had just brought you to such dizzying heights sent a fresh wave of desire crashing through your still trembling body. 

"Exquisite," he purred, releasing his fingers with a final lick. "I could feast on your sweet taste for eternity and never be sated."

You whimpered softly, reaching for him with needy hands. "Mairon, please," you breathed, hardly recognizing your own voice, wrecked as it was with desire. "I need you inside me. I ache to be filled by you, claimed by you."

A low growl rumbled in Mairon's chest, his eyes flashing with possessive heat. "And I ache to fill you, to claim every inch of your luscious body as mine," he rasped, his voice rough with desire. "But I fear if I take you here and now, I will not be able to control myself. I want to worship you properly, my goddess. I want to lay you out on our bed and spend hours driving you mad with pleasure until you forget your own name."

You shivered at his dark promise, your body already thrumming with renewed anticipation. "Then take me home, husband," you purred, sliding your hands down his chest to brush teasingly over the straining evidence of his arousal. "Take me to our bed and make me yours in every way. I need your touch like I need air to breathe."

Mairon captured your wandering hands, bringing them to his lips to press fervent kisses to your fingers. "As my lady commands,"

With a final searing kiss that stole your breath, Mairon set your skirts to rights, helped you button your dress back up, and took your hand, leading you swiftly out of the darkened side garden. The music and chatter of the feast reached your ears once more as you emerged onto the main path, a reminder of the outside world that had briefly ceased to exist while you were wrapped in Mairon's passionate embrace.

You both made your way to the edge of the gathering, trying to slip away as unobtrusively as possible. But before you could make your escape, a familiar voice called out your name.

"Tintilmë! Leaving so soon?"

You turned to see Eärlindë approaching, her eyes twinkling with mirth as she took in your flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips. Beside you, Mairon stiffened imperceptibly, though he maintained his polite smile as your friend drew near.

"I'm afraid so, Eärlindë," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the thrum of desire still coursing through your veins. "Mairon and I have some...matters to attend to at home."

Eärlindë's smile turned knowing, her gaze flicking between you and your husband with barely concealed amusement. "I'm sure you do," she teased, her melodic voice laced with innuendo. "Far be it from me to keep you from your...marital duties."

You felt heat creep up your neck at her playful insinuation, even as a thrill raced down your spine at the thought of what those "duties" entailed. Beside you, Mairon shifted subtly, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. You knew he was impatient to whisk you away and make good on his heated promises, but he maintained his composure for your friend's sake.

"Indeed," he replied smoothly, his rich voice betraying none of the hunger simmering beneath the surface. "My wife and I have much to...discuss in private. I'm sure you understand."

Eärlindë's eyes danced with barely suppressed laughter, but she nodded graciously. "Of course, my lord. I would not dream of keeping you from such important matters." She turned to you, pulling you in for a quick embrace. "You must tell me all about your 'discussions' later, mellon," she whispered in your ear, her voice trembling with mirth.

You swatted her arm playfully as you pulled away, fighting back a grin. "You are incorrigible, Eärlindë." 

Your friend merely winked, her smile full of mischief. "And you love me for it. Now go, enjoy your 'marital duties' with that delicious husband of yours." She made a shooing motion with her hands. "I expect a full report tomorrow!"

Shaking your head with a laugh, you allowed Mairon to lead you away, his strides purposeful as he guided you towards the path leading to home. The moment you were out of sight of the revelers, he pulled you flush against him, his arm snaking possessively around your waist.

"Divine," he growled against your ear, nipping at the sensitive lobe. "Teasing me with Eärlindë, knowing full well how desperate I am to have you." His hand slid lower, palming your ass through the thin velvet of your gown. "You enjoy testing my restraint, don't you, little temptress?"

You shivered, arching into his touch with a breathy sigh. "Can you blame me? Seeing you struggle to maintain your composure, knowing that I'm the reason for it...it's intoxicating."

Mairon's answering growl vibrated against your throat as he peppered your sensitive skin with hot, open-mouthed kisses. "Wicked woman. You'll pay for your teasing." He nipped at your racing pulse. "Once I get you home, I'm going to strip you bare and worship every inch of your body until you're mindless with pleasure."

You swallowed thickly, fighting against the desire to simply let Mairon take you right there on the moonlit path. "Then hurry, husband," you breathed. "Before I combust from wanting you."

Mairon's eyes glittered with dark promise as he scooped you into his arms, your surprised yelp quickly turning into delighted laughter as he carried you swiftly down the path towards home. Your heart raced with giddy anticipation, every nerve ending alight with desire for your passionate mate.

In what seemed like mere moments, you had crossed the threshold into your candlelit chambers. Mairon set you on your feet only long enough to secure the door before he was on you again, his mouth claiming yours in a searing kiss that left you weak in the knees.

"I thought I would go mad with jealousy tonight," he growled between kisses as he walked you backwards towards the bed, his nimble fingers already working on the buttons of your gown. "Seeing the way Curufin looked at you, the way his eyes devoured you like a wolf eyeing a lamb..." 

His teeth grazed your throat, making you gasp. "I wanted to throw you over my shoulder and carry you away from all those lustful stares, to remind everyone that you are mine and mine alone."

"Yours," you agreed breathlessly, shrugging out of your gown and letting the velvet fabric pool at your feet. "Only ever yours, Mairon."

A possessive growl rumbled through his chest as he drank in the sight of you standing before him in nothing but the silvery chain and wedding band he had placed upon you all those years ago. "My perfect goddess," he rasped, green eyes burning with reverent hunger. "Let me worship you as you deserve.”

With reverent hands, Mairon lifted you onto the bed, laying you out on the silken sheets like a priceless offering. His eyes raked over your naked form, drinking in every dip and curve illuminated by the flickering candlelight. You had never felt more desired, more cherished than you did under the heat of his adoring gaze.

"Magnificent," he breathed, long fingers trailing feather-light paths along your quivering skin. "An exquisite masterpiece shaped by Eru himself."

You keened softly, arching into his worshipful touch. "Mairon, please..."

He smiled, slow and sensual, as he divested himself of his own finery with deliberate grace. Each movement was a revelation, baring his sculpted physique to your hungry eyes inch by torturous inch until he stood before you in all his magnificent glory.

Mairon joined you on the bed, his powerful body covering yours as he claimed your lips in a deep, worshipful kiss. You melted beneath him, your fingers threading through his silken hair to hold him close. His tongue delved into the honeyed recesses of your mouth, mapping every curve and hollow.

"My Mori," he breathed against your lips. “My sweet wife,”

You moaned softly, your body already alight with need. "Show me," you pleaded, rolling your hips against his straining length. "Show me how much you adore me, husband."

Mairon's eyes flashed, a predatory smile curving his lips. He began a slow, sensual descent down your body, lips, teeth, and tongue painting fiery paths across your skin. He lingered at your breasts, lavishing attention on the soft mounds until you were arching off the bed with breathy cries, your fingers tangled almost painfully in his hair. His clever mouth suckled and nipped at the tender peaks, sending jolts of electric pleasure straight to your core.

"Mairon, yes.." you whimpered as he bit down on a sensitive nipple, the exquisite sting only heightening your arousal. 

He soothed the love bite with his tongue before continuing his worshipful journey down your quivering body. His hands mapped every inch of your heated flesh, tracing reverent patterns on your stomach, your thighs, the sensitive crease of your hips. He settled between your thighs like a supplicant before an altar, emerald eyes burning with reverent hunger as he took in your glistening folds.

"Moriel," he growled, hot breath fanning across your aching core. "I could feast on you for all eternity."

You shuddered, hips rolling pleadingly. "Then feast, my love. I am yours to devour.”

Mairon needed no further encouragement. With a groan of satisfaction, he buried his face between your thighs, his sinful mouth descending on your weeping center like a man starved. The first swipe of his tongue through your slick folds tore a keening cry from your lips, your back bowing off the bed at the exquisite sensation.

"Yes!" you gasped, one hand fisting in his silken hair while the other clawed at the sheets. "Just like that, my love..."

He growled his approval against your heated flesh, the vibrations only adding to the all-consuming pleasure building in your core. His lips closed around your throbbing pearl, suckling hard as two fingers plunged deep into your dripping core. The dual sensations sent you hurtling towards the edge with breathtaking speed.

Mairon's fingers pumped steadily as his tongue swirled and flicked against your sensitive bud, wringing gasps and moans from your lips with every masterful caress. He was relentless in his sensual onslaught, determined to shatter you again and again until you were boneless beneath him.

"Mairon, I-I'm close," you panted, feeling the tell-tale flutter of your inner walls. "Don't stop, please..."

He redoubled his efforts, fingers curling inside you to stroke the spot that made your toes curl and your vision blur. His lips and tongue worked in tandem, lashing your aching pearl until the coil in your belly snapped and you flew apart with a ragged scream of his name. 

Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you as Mairon gentled you through the aftershocks, his fingers and tongue slowing their relentless rhythm to soft, soothing caresses. You quivered and gasped beneath him, boneless and sated in the aftermath of your shattering release. 

Slowly, almost reverently, Mairon kissed his way back up your body, pausing to lave tender attention on the marks of passion he had left in his wake. When he finally reached your lips, he claimed them in a deep, sensual kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You moaned softly into his mouth, the intimate flavor igniting a fresh spark of desire in your veins.

"My goddess," Mairon breathed against your lips. "My perfect wife. I will never tire of worshipping you."

You smiled up at him, your heart full to bursting with love and desire for this magnificent being who had claimed you as his own. Reaching up, you traced the chiseled lines of his face with worshipful fingers, marveling at the raw beauty of him. 

"As I will never tire of being worshipped by you, husband," you murmured.

Mairon's eyes softened, a tender smile gracing his sculpted lips as he turned his head to press a fervent kiss to your palm. "Eternity will never be long enough to show you the depths of my love," he vowed, voice low and intense with emotion. "But I intend to spend every moment trying."

Mairon's lips claimed yours in a searing kiss, the intensity of his love and desire pouring into the passionate embrace. You surrendered to his ardent ministrations, your arms winding around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. The hard planes of his body aligned perfectly with your soft curves, two puzzle pieces fitting together in sublime harmony.

When the need for air finally forced you apart, Mairon rested his forehead against yours, his eyes boring into your own with breathtaking intensity. "My beautiful wife," he murmured, his voice low and rough with emotion. "I ache to be one with you, to join our bodies and souls as only husband and wife can."

You shivered at his words, your core clenching with desperate need. "Then take me, my love," you breathed, rolling your hips invitingly against his straining arousal. "Claim me,”

Mairon's eyes flashed with primal hunger at your wanton invitation. "With pleasure, my love," he growled, aligning himself at your entrance. 

With a powerful thrust of his hips, he sheathed himself fully inside your welcoming heat. Twin moans of ecstasy filled the air as you were finally joined as one, your bodies fitting together like lock and key. The delicious stretch and fullness drew a ragged gasp from your lips, your inner walls fluttering around his thick length.

"Mairon, yes..." you breathed, wrapping your legs around his trim waist to pull him impossibly deeper. "You feel incredible, my love."

He groaned, dropping his head to the crook of your neck as he savored the blissful sensation of your silken walls gripping him like a velvet glove. "No sweeter heaven than being buried inside you.”

Mairon began to move, his hips rolling in a slow, sensual rhythm that sent sparks of pleasure racing through your veins. Each deliberate thrust brushed against that spot deep within you, stoking the embers of your desire into a raging inferno. Your nails raked down the sculpted planes of his back, urging him on with breathy moans and pleas for more.

"Yes, Mairon," you gasped as he drove into you with increasing fervor, the wet slide of your joined bodies filling the room. "Harder, my love. I need to feel every inch of you."

With a guttural groan, Mairon complied, hips snapping against yours in a relentless rhythm, each powerful thrust driving you higher and higher towards that elusive peak. His lips and teeth mapped fiery paths across your throat and chest, worshipping every inch of your heated flesh. When his sinful mouth closed around a taut nipple, you cried out sharply, your back arching into his powerful thrusts.

"Mairon!" you keened, your fingers tangling almost painfully in his hair as he suckled and nipped at the sensitive bud. "Don't stop, my love, please..."

He growled his approval against your breast, the vibrations sending delicious shivers racing down your spine. His hand slid between your sweat-slicked bodies, nimble fingers finding your aching pearl. He circled the throbbing nub in tight, deliberate strokes, wringing desperate moans and pleas from your lips as he drove you towards the precipice with ruthless precision. The coil in your core wound tighter and tighter, your inner walls clenching greedily around his pistoning length. You could feel your release building like a tidal wave, cresting higher and higher with each masterful thrust and stroke.

"I'm so close!" you sobbed, your body beginning to tremble with the force of your impending climax. "Please, my love, I need..."

"I know, sweet one," Mairon rasped, his own voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. He wanted to feel you shatter around him first, to watch you come undone in ecstasy before emptying himself deep inside your fluttering sheath. "Let go for me, Mori. Come all over my cock."

His filthy words and the relentless stimulation were the end. With a keening cry, you shattered in his arms, your climax crashing over you in shuddering waves of pure ecstasy. Your inner walls clamped down on his throbbing length, milking him with pulsing intensity as you rode out the dizzying pleasure.

Mairon groaned long and low, the exquisite feel of you fluttering around him sending him careening over the edge. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, spilling his hot seed deep inside your still quivering cunt. Your name fell from his lips like a reverent prayer as he lost himself to the bliss of his own release, his hips moving in shallow, erratic thrusts as he emptied every last drop into your welcoming womb.

Utterly sated, you clung to Mairon as the aftershocks of your mutual pleasure rippled through your joined bodies. He collapsed against you, his weight a warm, comforting presence as you both struggled to catch your breath. For long moments, you simply held each other, basking in the afterglow and the profound sense of connection it always brought.

Mairon was the first to stir, lifting his head from the crook of your neck to gaze down at you with adoring eyes. He brushed a few sweat-dampened locks from your brow, his touch infinitely tender. "My beautiful wife," he murmured, voice husky with emotion. “I could never tire of this.”

You smiled up at him, your heart full to bursting with love and contentment. "Nor could I, my darling husband," you whispered, tracing the chiseled lines of his face with worshipful fingers. "You are my everything, Mairon.”

Mairon's eyes softened, a tender smile gracing his sensual lips. "As you are mine, Mori," he breathed, turning his head to press a fervent kiss to your palm. "I am forever changed, forever blessed, to have you as my wife and eternal mate."

He shifted then, gently withdrawing from your warmth and rolling to his side, pulling you with him so that you were nestled against his chest. His arms encircled you, strong and protective, as though he could shield you from all the sorrows of the world. You nestled deeper into Mairon's embrace, relishing the comforting heat of his skin against yours. His fingers trailed idle patterns along your spine, soothing you like a lullaby. A contented sigh escaped your lips, your eyelids growing heavy in the hazy aftermath of your lovemaking.

"Sleep, my love," Mairon murmured, pressing a tender kiss to your hair. "I will guard your dreams and hold you close until morning’s light."

"Mmm, I like the sound of that," you mumbled, already halfway to slumber. The steady, rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat beneath your cheek was more potent than any sleeping draught. "Promise you'll still be here when I wake?"

Mairon's arms tightened around you, a silent vow. "Always, sweet one. There is nowhere in all of Arda I would rather be."

With that whispered promise, you let your eyes drift closed, secure and cherished in the circle of Mairon's arms. Sleep claimed you swiftly, your dreams filled with visions of eternal love and endless devotion. No matter what trials or challenges life might bring, you knew with unwavering certainty that Mairon would always be by your side—his love a steadfast anchor against the ever-changing tides of fate.

As you slept, Mairon watched over you, his green eyes soft with adoration and reverence. He marveled at the delicate beauty of your features in repose—the way your lashes fanned out against your cheeks, the gentle curve of your lips that he had kissed countless times. Even in slumber, you took his breath away, a vision of perfection that he still could scarcely believe was his to treasure.

Yet as he held you, his thoughts wandered back to the events of the evening—the simmering tension with Curufin, the way his possessive instincts had surged at the Noldor lord’s veiled provocations. Though Mairon knew beyond any doubt that your heart belonged to him alone, the mere thought of another coveting you, even in fleeting admiration, had stirred something primal within him. A need—not of mere possession, but of affirmation, to ensure that every fiber of your being knew, as surely as he did, that you were his and his alone.

He exhaled softly, brushing a reverent fingertip along your cheek, marveling at the silken softness of your skin. How had he been so blessed to earn the love and devotion of a maiden so radiant, so pure of heart? There were still moments when the shadows of his past whispered doubts in the recesses of his mind, when the weight of who he had once been threatened to taint the light he had found in you.

But then, he would look into your eyes—those luminous pools of unwavering adoration—and all fear would be banished. You had that power over him. You were his guiding star, his beacon of hope, casting light into the darkest corners of his fëa. With you beside him, Mairon felt capable of anything—renewed, redeemed, made whole by the sheer force of your love.

He silently vowed to spend every day proving himself worthy of the precious gift of your heart.

As the first rays of dawn painted the horizon in hues of rose and gold, Mairon pressed a final, reverent kiss to your brow before allowing himself to surrender to a light slumber. Even in sleep, his arms never loosened their protective embrace, as if holding onto you anchored him to the serenity he had found in your love.

Your soft breaths and the gentle rhythm of your heartbeat wove a lullaby more potent than any spell, and for the first time in his long, tumultuous existence, Mairon knew peace—a peace born not of conquest, nor of dominion, but of love. True and unbreakable.

Morning came all too soon, the warm caress of sunlight stirring you gently from your contented dreams. Your eyes fluttered open, blinking against the golden rays that filtered through the gossamer curtains. A sleepy smile curved your lips as you became aware of the strong arms still wrapped around you, holding you close against a firm, warm chest. Mairon's chest. Your husband, your love.

Careful not to wake him, you shifted slightly in his embrace, turning to face him. He looked so peaceful in slumber, the usual intensity of his features softened by the vulnerability of repose. Your heart swelled with adoration as you drank in the breathtaking sight of him—the high, sculpted cheekbones, the sensual curve of his lips, the fiery silk of his hair splayed across the pillow. Even in rest, he was a vision of masculine beauty, a work of art given life.

Unable to resist, you reached out to trace the lines of his face with a feather-light touch. Your fingertips ghosted over his brow, down the aristocratic slope of his nose, across the chiseled planes of his cheeks. You marveled at the smoothness of his skin, the way it warmed beneath your reverent caress. He was perfection incarnate.

Mairon stirred at your tender touch, his sea-foam eyes blinking open to meet your adoring gaze. A slow, sleepy smile curved his lips as he pulled you closer, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "Good morning," he murmured, his voice husky from slumber. "What a vision you are to wake up to."

You giggled softly, threading your fingers through his sleep-tousled hair. "I could say the same, my love. Watching you sleep is one of my greatest joys." 

Mairon hummed contentedly, pressing languid kisses along your throat. "Is that so? And here I thought your greatest joy was screaming my name in ecstasy as I worship your exquisite body."

A shiver raced down your spine at his words, desire already stirring in your veins. "Mmm, that is a very close second," you purred, arching into his sensual kisses. "Perhaps you'd care to remind me just how exquisite that worship can be?"

Mairon's eyes darkened with hunger, a wicked smile curving his lips against your skin. "It would be my utmost pleasure, sweet one."

In a flash, he had rolled you beneath him, his powerful body covering yours deliciously. Your breath hitched as you felt his hardening length press against your thigh, evidence of his own stirring desire. Mairon claimed your lips in a deep, sensual kiss, his tongue delving past your parted lips to stroke and caress. You melted into the passionate embrace, your arms winding around his neck to pull him impossibly closer.

Mairon's hands roamed your body as he kissed you deeply, tracing every curve and dip he had long since committed to memory. Each caress ignited sparks of pleasure that raced through your veins, stoking your desire. You arched into his touch, silently begging for more, and he was all too happy to oblige.

His lips blazed a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your throat, pausing to nip and suck at your racing pulse. You gasped and writhed beneath him, your fingers tangling in his silken hair as he continued his sensual assault. When his clever mouth closed around a rosy peak, you cried out sharply, your back bowing off the bed.

"Mairon, yes!" you keened as he suckled and teased the sensitive bud, sending jolts of electric pleasure. His clever tongue swirled around the hardened peak, drawing breathy moans from your parted lips. Mairon lavished attention on your breasts, reveling in every gasp and whimper he coaxed from you. His hands mapped your quivering body with worshipful reverence.

Unable to resist any longer, you tugged impatiently at his hair, urging him back up to claim your lips once more. Mairon obliged with a low chuckle, sealing his mouth over yours in a deep, plundering kiss. As your tongues tangled sensually, you hooked a leg around his hip, using the leverage to grind your aching core against his hardness. You both groaned at the delicious friction, the kiss turning fevered and urgent.

Breaking away with a gasp, Mairon rested his forehead against yours, emerald eyes smoldering with barely restrained hunger. "I need you, Mori," he rasped, his voice rough with desire. "I ache to be one with you,”

"Yes, Mairon," you breathed, your body singing with the same desperate need. "Take me, my love."

With a low growl of satisfaction, Mairon reached between your bodies, aligning himself at your entrance. In one powerful thrust, he sheathed himself fully inside your slick heat, drawing twin moans of ecstasy from you both. Your inner walls fluttered around his thick length, relishing the delicious stretch and fullness that only he could provide.

Mairon stilled for a moment, savoring the blissful sensation of being buried deep inside your welcoming body. His eyes locked onto yours, burning with an intensity that stole your breath. "My perfect goddess," he murmured reverently, his fingers caressing your face with aching tenderness. "I will never tire of being one with you in every way."

"Nor will I, my love," you breathed, canting your hips to take him even deeper. 

Slowly, reverently, he began to move, his hips rolling in a sensual rhythm that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You clung to his broad shoulders, meeting each deliberate thrust with a roll of your own hips. The slick slide of your joined bodies, the delicious drag of his thick length against your fluttering walls, drew breathy moans and gasps from your parted lips. Mairon drank in every sweet sound of your pleasure, his gaze never leaving your face as he made love to you with exquisite tenderness.

Your legs wound around Mairon's trim waist as he rocked into you, pulling him impossibly deeper. Each languid thrust brushed against that spot within you, stoking your desire. You could feel the coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter in your core, your inner walls beginning to flutter around his hardness.

"Mairon," you gasped, your fingers digging into the flexing muscles of his back.

He groaned against your throat, his rhythm growing more urgent, more purposeful. "I feel you, love," he rasped, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. "Your perfect body grips me so tightly, as if it never wants to let me go.”

You keened at his words, your head tossing against the pillow as Mairon's thrusts grew faster, harder, driving you closer and closer to that elusive peak. "Never, my love," you panted breathlessly. "I never want to let you go. I'm yours, Mairon, always..."

"Yes, Mori," he growled possessively, angling his hips to grind against that sensitive spot deep inside you with each purposeful thrust. "Mine, forever and always. No one else will ever touch you, worship you, like I do."

His hand slipped between your sweat-slicked bodies, fingers finding your aching pearl. He circled the throbbing nub in tight, deliberate strokes, the added stimulation wrenching sharp cries of ecstasy from your lips. The coil in your core wound impossibly tighter, your body trembling on the precipice of rapture. Mairon's thrusts grew more urgent, more demanding, each flex of his hips driving you higher and higher. His fingers worked your sensitive pearl mercilessly, determined to shatter you completely.

"Mairon…" you sobbed, your nails raking down his sweat-slicked back. "I can't...I'm going to..."

"Yes, Mori," he commanded, his voice a dark, sensual growl. "Come for me, my goddess, I have you."

With a keening cry, you shattered beneath him, your climax crashing over you in shuddering waves of ecstasy. Your inner walls clamped down on his throbbing length, milking him with rhythmic pulses as you rode out the pleasure. Mairon groaned long and low, the exquisite sensation of your fluttering heat too much to resist. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, spilling his essence deep inside you as his own release overtook him.

Mairon's hips moved in shallow, erratic thrusts as he emptied himself completely, your name tumbling from his lips like a reverent prayer. You clung to him, your bodies trembling in the aftermath of your mutual bliss, hearts pounding in perfect synchronicity.

As your shared breathing slowed, Mairon carefully withdrew from your slick heat, a contented sigh escaping his luscious lips. Emerald eyes bored into yours, Mairon's expression one of profound love and adoration.

"Mori," he murmured hoarsely, ducking his head to press kisses along your collarbone. "My divine wife, words will never encompass how much I truly love you."

You threaded your fingers through his damp coppery locks, guiding him back up to meet your gaze. "Then show me, my darling," you whispered against his lips. "Every day, for the rest of our lives, show me the depths of your love. As I will show you mine."

Mairon's eyes softened, a tender smile curving his sensual mouth. "For all of eternity, my heart," he vowed, sealing his promise with a sweet, lingering kiss. 

You melted into his embrace, relishing the comforting weight of his body covering yours. These moments of tranquility, tangled in the sheets with your beloved husband, were more precious to you than all the gems in Arda. Here, in the sanctuary of your marriage bed, the outside world faded away until nothing existed but the two of you, bound by unrequited love and fiery passion.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Part III

Word count: +3900

Warnings: angst, very slight mentions of past SA, frostbites and some chuchu-muchu😉 (this chapter isn't so bad that it would need any extra warnings, but let me know if you find something that needs to added)

Part II | Part IV

The ceremony and the party afterwards went smoothly, without any remarkable events. Although, after what I had just witnessed, it was my last worry.

Emotions in Kallias' eyes as he watched her walk behind me with the veil in hands, were like a bucket of cold water, shattering any however small hopes I had.

What would be my position at this place? In this Court? How was I supposed to live here? As what? Forgotten wife? Unwanted burden? Obstacle that at some point would need to vanish quietly?

The future full of uncertainties left me feeling hollow. I wanted to cry actually. I should have listened to my father and run away while I could. Life in exile in Autumn Court would be much better than this. The fact that despite everything, Kallias was trying — pretending — made it even worse.

When I arrived at the altar, he gently took my hand and tried to smile happily. As we stood there, listening the priestess, he held me closely, trying to comfort me. After we said our vows and priestess blessed the union, it was time for a kiss and he tried to do it properly. Above all the expectations of the gathered. During the dinner and the following party, he tried converse with me, asking about my childhood, hobbies and even opinions. He went so far as pretending the interest while trying to get to know me.

Every his try was more and more painful. It was like standing in front of a magical mirror that was showing me — torturing me — with imagines of what could have been. How my married life could have looked like, if he didn't have feelings for someone else. It would be much easier, if he just simply despised me from the very beginning than giving me fake hopes. If he drew clear line on the start, I could be sure about my role, I would know how to behave. And most importantly, my heart would stay behind the walls, protected. Where there is no hope, love cannot flourish. Falling in love with Kallias would do me no good — I understood that. Yet if he kept acting this way...

It would be so easy to fall in love with him. On top of being handsome, he really seemed to be a kind person, attentive, intelligent, calm and soft-hearted. Growing up in estate where only so few young males resided and all hated me or completely ignored me, couldn't prepare me for this. I didn't want to end up as all the naive females in novels I read — falling for wrong male just to be handed own broken heart on tray.

Oh, Mother, why had you woven this fate for me? Did I offend you so much by being born?

At some point, the need to shake him got so strong that I had to clench my fingers into chair's armrest. I wanted to tell him to stop pretending when his true feelings were so clear, but I couldn't. Instead I was spiralling and anxiously observing every small change, every slip in his expression.

As we were sitting at the table, conversing, his eyes often wandered to the place where Viviane was seated next to the blond female in elegant red dress who for sure wasn't from this Court. The two of them seemed to have a good time, talking lively and laughing.

Every time he did it, I peaked at Viviane, expecting her to meet his gaze with the similar mixture of emotions. I didn't know why, but I needed that one last push that would completely shatter my hopes. I even prayed for it.

As if sensing it, she always looked up at me, smiling brightly, contently even, at both of us. I watched her closely, analysing her expression to the smallest details, yet I couldn't find any evidence of longing, pain or suppressed feelings, not even in depths of her beautiful eyes. The only tracks of love I found, was love of a good friend, sibling at the best. Instead of being relieved or satisfied, it saddened me and suddenly I felt sorry for him. Was she so blind that she hadn't noticed it yet? Or she just didn't want to acknowledge his feelings?

Last time it happened shortly before we were expected to leave the party and head to the chambers, the tiny lines formed around his lips. His disappointment hurt me more than I cared to admit. Out of sympathy, I gently touched his forearm. He slightly jerked, his eyes wide as he turned to me. For several heartbeats, he stared at me, shocked. Then his expression darkened, an icy mask slid down with loud click. He shook off my hand and moved away from me as far as he could while sitting on his chair. After that he stopped trying to talk with me and ignored me for the rest of the time we spent at party.

Before any emotions got the better of me, I cut them off. Maybe it was better this way.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice that High Lord stood up, giving a speech, not until Kallias next to me stood up, too. He was looking down at some unspecified place on the table with a hand ready for me to grab on it. I did what was expected of me. We both did.

My attention shifted to my father. He looked sad, yet he smiled at me. My chest tightened painfully and I blinked away the tears. All of sudden, I had a very strange feeling that this was the last time I could see him. It was so suffocating. And Morena's expression didn't help it. Out of the corner of the eye I noticed her wide grin, the gleam in her eyes made me feel sick. The need to not let him go and to keep him here with me only grew. I felt nauseous, cold sweat rolling down my spine.

"Everything fine?" Kallias asked under his breath. Only then did I notice that I was quite trembling and squeezing his hand so tightly that my knuckles were white. However, I wasn't able to answer. I couldn't even as much as move, all my muscles locked. "You will be able to say goodbye to your family tomorrow before they leave. No need to worry."

The softness of his deep voice and the reassurance took away some of the weight pressing down on my chest and my lungs filled with air. I slowly turned to him. His expression was alert, but beneath it was hidden understanding.

"Thank you," I whispered.

With the final congratulation, High Lord sent us off. As soon as the door closed behind us, Kallias took off down the corridor, leaving me in care of Millie.

"I will show you to your chambers, milady," she bowed and led me in the same direction Kallias went while pointing out rooms we passed to help me navigate around later. "It was High Lord's wish for you to be close to his son, so we prepared the closest suitable premises for you. I hope you will find them comfortable to live in. Unfortunately, no one informed us about your likes and dislikes, so if you find something missing or wish to change anything, just let me know. I will take care of your needs from now on."

"Thank you, Millie. I'm sure you did great job. I'll certainly like it," corners of my mouth curled in a small, polite smile. Because of what she saw before the ceremony I wasn't sure how to behave around her. She must have thought something was wrong with me. With her own smile she tilted her head to the side, looking me over with curiosity. I got nervous. "Is.. something wrong?"

"No, milady," she fully grinned. "I was just thinking that you are different from the other aristocrats and especially, from the young ladies."

"Is it a bad thing?" I frowned, my palms sweating.

"Oh, it's a great thing, milady. You are more like his Highness and his family. It isn't my place to say this, but I think you will get along pretty well with young master."

I wasn't sure what to say to that, pleasantly surprised by Millie's boldness. "I hope so." Being it a different situation, her words would have made me happy. Right now the only thing I knew for sure was, that love was out of question as Kallias' heart already belonged to someone else. Maybe.. maybe someday we could become friends, though. I stored the idea in the back of my mind for the later, focussing on the present.

Climbing the flight of stairs, we got to the highest floor, dimly lit with faelights. Hallways here were wider with a sets of windows on one side. Intrigued, I stopped by one, looking out into the night.

From up here I could see back gardens and castle grounds and also a small part of the city on the other side of gorge. The view was, however, blocked by the wall. When I focussed, I could see seemingly never ending mountain range surrounding the castle and the city, with white dusted peaks that glittered in the moonlight. On one of the closest peaks that was rather a smaller one, I noticed a faint flicker of light.

"Millie? Is there anything up there?"

She stepped closer to see where I was pointing. "It could be the temple, but it's hard to say when it's so dark outside. It should be easier to see it during the day. I'm sure young master will eventually take you there, milady, as it's a place of great importance."

I nodded and followed her. There was only one set of doors in this hallway. Millie opened them and holding them for me, she waited. "These are your chambers, milady."

"And Kallias'?" I looked around in confusion. Didn't she mention that his chambers should be nearby?

"Well, his doors are located in different hallway, but as you will see, you won't need it, milady."

I hesitantly took last few steps and entered the most beautiful sitting room I'd seen in my life. Soft tiny faelights hanging from ceiling in chains like some icicles created play of light and shadow on the snow-white walls, flames roared in the big hearth, sending pleasant waves of warmth into the room. The set of comfortable looking sofas and armchairs occupied most of this space, several half filled wooden bookcases and chests decorated otherwise empty walls. Wooden floor, thick carpet, candles, blankets and pillows added to the overall welcoming comfort of this room.

My curiosity pulled me to the enormous windows that led to the balcony and the fascinating view. In awe I pushed a light lacy curtain aside to take a better look. An entire city on the other side of the gorge laid there like on my palm. I could see as far as to the flickering lights of the first gate and if it wasn't night, certainly even far beyond it.

The city was bigger than I originally thought, scrambling up and down gentle slopes, closed in between jagged peaks. The streets of the city were flooded with warm soft light, white snow making it shine even brighter, the dark windows of houses in sharp contrast with that beauty. My gaze followed those bright narrow veins that connected with each other, creating wide arteries, to the very heart of the town where they opened into a large space with probably the highest spruce tree I'd ever seen in its centre. The square shone with colours. Even from afar I could see long tables with food and people laughing and dancing. It was just as Viviane told me - everyone was out, celebrating. I was so taken by that fairytale like scenery that I didn't notice that Millie left and returned after several minutes.

"Your bath is ready," she said, kind smile lifting corners of her mouth.

"I didn't know there could be something so beautiful as this place. I always thought that the capital is cold, inhospitable city," I confessed.

"Now now," she snorted in amusement. "Wait until you see it decorated for Solstice, milady."

That piqued my interest. The Solstice was the biggest and most important celebration in Winter Court and it was only about a month from now. Even such almost deserted places as my home got excessively decorated with ribbons and glittery decorations, smell of all sorts of cakes, foods and mulled wine filling the air and mixing with smell of pine needles and freshly fallen snow. While I heard that all celebrations were over in just few days in other courts, in Winter it lasted for an entire month. Everyone seemed to be a bit kinder and generous during that time. Maybe that's why I loved it so much.

"There's going to be big celebration. Young master and his friends every year visit the market in the city. This year, they will take you with them too, milady. I'm sure you will like it," Millie continued as I followed her through the bedroom with enormous bed and hearth to the luxurious looking bathroom. Everything was so cosy.

Bathtub full of steaming water immediately drew my attention. It was big enough for at least three persons, dominating to the space. Set of soft towels waited on its edge, several lit floating candles and pink rose petals inviting one to dip in. Air was filled with smell of floral essential oils, soaps and shampoos, steam making it a bit foggy.

Stress, that was building in me ever since morning, finally took its toll and all of sudden I felt too tired to even think, my body so heavy. I couldn't wait to warm up my limbs in the bath and to head to that comfortable bed I saw moments ago. With a knowing smile, Millie helped me to undress and with a sigh I stretched out in the warm water. I was slightly dozing off while Millie took all the pins from my hair, helped me wash and then massaged my shoulders. Unable to even keep my eyes open, I made a mental note to thank her later for her care. After the bath I accepted the soft bathrobe without giving it much thoughts. It didn't even seem strange to me that there was no nightgown prepared.

"Now, everything is ready. Young master is already waiting for you in bedroom, milady," Millie said cunningly and disappeared in a secret servants' passageway before her words got registered by my sleepy mind.

In a second I was wide awake. Kallias was here? Why? And then the realisation hit me and my stomach churned. It couldn't be for real. It just couldn't...

I started to shake wildly and fell to my knees. Unable to keep it together, I wrapped arms around my chest, holding firmly. All the unpleasant memories of my stepbrother touching me floated to the surface and I sobbed. How could I forget? It was an unbreakable tradition and yet I.. I thought it just simply wouldn't happen. There was no way out of this. Whether I wanted or no, it had to happen. Short for air I doubled over, pressing forehead to marble floor. Its cool surface grounded me down and slowly I calmed down enough to think straight. If I couldn't get out of this situation, I had to come up with a way to survive it.

Kallias! That was it. Kallias wasn't Zima. He was kind - everyone said so about him so far. He would treat me with kindness. If.. if he saw that I wasn't ready, he wouldn't push me into things, right?

However crazy it was, I gripped on the belief that Kallias wouldn't treat me badly and held onto it, pushing every bad memory to the back of my mind where I slammed and locked the imaginary door behind it. In my mind I was repeating his name like some mantra, listing every small way in which he treated me kindly. Everything that was different about him. I hadn't thought that there would be a time when his pretence during wedding and party could come so handy, but here I was.

Still trembling I managed to crawl over to the washbasin and dragged myself up. From there it was only a small step to the door that separated me from the bedroom and my ordeal. Taking a deep breath I opened it with a soft click.

Kallias stood with bowed head in front of the hearth clad in the same looking bathrobe, his back to me. Both of his hands were rested on the mantel, clenched into fists, skin on his knuckles so tight that I almost could see bones beneath. His back was painfully straight, shoulders tense. If I wasn't mistaken, he was nervous.

He didn't seem to notice me as his eyes were hypnotising the dancing flames that roared wildly, yet the room was cool almost cold.

Instinctively I checked the windows, tugging the bathrobe closer. All were closed and locked from inside. A lump rose in my throat.

"Ka..llias..?"

He jerked. "Sorry," he mumbled and the room warmed up again. He turn his head in my direction, though he avoided looking at me. "I.."

He sighed. "Sorry," he repeated, this time properly facing me. His eyes darted over me swiftly and then landed on the bed. He inhaled sharply, holding his breath.

It's Kallias. Kallias. He is kind. He is different.

I desperately held on my mantra as my bottom lip quivered.

He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, staying like that for awhile.

"Are you cold?" His voice was once again soft, caring. "Come closer and warm up. Your father mentioned that you easily get cold. It's quite rare for someone from the Winter Court, isn't it?"

"Yes." When did he make time to talk with my father? I managed to walk over the room without stumbling, but I was so nervous and scared that I was short for breath, heaving as if I had run a round around the castle before stopping next to him. His brows furrowed, his lips twisted in compassion. "I think I took that after my mother."

"Ah, the lady from Autumn Court, right? I can imagine that the weather here was harsh for someone with fire in veins."

I expected to hear scornfulness in his voice when he spoke about my mother, just as I heard it in voices of everyone except my father, but there was nothing. He said it calmly, casually, almost sorrowfully, as if it was the most natural thing. I was so surprised that I only nodded.

"Then I will have to make sure you are always warm," he smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

The uncomfortable silence settled between us. I didn't dare to look at him even though I would give anything to know what he was thinking at, how he felt. Despite being so close to the fire, cold sweat rolled down my spine, my imagination running wild and in absolutely wrong direction.

It's Kallias. He's kind. He won't-

His hand hesitantly touched mine and when I didn't pull away, he entwined his long fingers with mine. His frosty pale skin was soft to touch and cool. Though it didn't cause me pain like-..

It's Kallias. He's different.

I pushed any other thoughts away. It was already hard enough as I could hardly even as much as breathe.

I heard him swallow hard before his other hand reached up, taking my chin between thumb and forefinger. He was so tender when he tilted my face towards him. The way he touched me - it was definitely different. There was nothing violent about it, nothing rough or demanding, yet I played my mantra on repeat.

He leaned closer and..

Stopped.

He was waiting for me, I realized.

Heart hammering in my chest, I risked a glance at him. His crushing blue eyes were already on me, searching. His striking beauty took the last bits of air from my lungs. He looked somehow sad, torment in depths of his eyes. However, the second our gazes collided, he transformed his expression into unreadable mask, locking away anything he felt. If he really loved Viviane so much, this couldn't be anything but unpleasant duty to him. He didn't want to do this — that much was clearly written all over his face just a moment ago — yet he was trying to turn it into a pleasant experience for me.

He gave me last few seconds to prepare before he carefully pressed his lips to mine. His eyes shut closed, brows furrowed - was he imagining that he was holding her? He stilled for few heartbeats and then slightly opened his mouth, tip of his tongue lightly touched my bottom lip before he delivered another kiss. This reminded me of the wedding ceremony. Back then he did exactly the same thing.

He wasn't in hurry, his soft lips lazily dancing over mine, every stroke deeper than the previous one. His fingers moved from my chin to my cheek, cupping it, thumb drawing small circles on my skin. It was.. actually quite pleasant, soothing. However, I needed to keep my eyes open, because the second I closed them, flashes of those events twisted the reality into something else. My mantra wasn't working as efficiently here as I hoped, but seeing his face made it little better.

Kallias changed the angle, tugging me closer by the waist, adjusting his position, his body now flush against mine. That was when the things started to change. Temperature in the room again dropped so slightly and shiver ran down my spine. His other hand, now cold like ice, moved to my neck, his touch still light and tender, yet the pain marked the trace of his fingers, until they slipped into my hair. His lips grazed over my jaw and down the column of my neck to my shoulder, leaving small kisses on his way, every one of them followed by explosions of sharp pain. When he reached the collarbone, the pain was so insufferable that I cried out.

Kallias immediately stopped, his eyes shooting up to my face.

"Wha-"

When he noticed red and purple marks on my skin, his eyes widened in shock and he released me, backing away.

"That's nothing," I covered the worst of them with bathrobe, quickly wiping tears away.

"Nothing?" he whispered "How..? Why..? You are covered in frostbites." Kallias was short for words. He looked down at his hands in disbelieve. "Have I done that?"

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Only moments ago, he was so kind and attentive, even though he didn't want to do this. Another male in his position wouldn't give a shit. I couldn't possibly tell him that his powers were responsible for that, nor I couldn't lie to him.

Shaking his head, he was retreating, his skin paler than freshly fallen snow. He ran hand through his hair and then dragged it down his face. He was shaken.

"I-.. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.. I'm so sorry."

He pivoted and hurried to the tall mirror in the corner of the room. It took just a light touch from him and the glass melted away, opening an entrance to a narrow corridor covered in ice and snow. Gust of cold wind brought several snowflakes into the room and I had to turn away, protecting my face. Prince of Winter rushed down that corridor, unaffected by cold. He didn't look back even when I called after him, eager to somehow explain the situation. Before I reached the mirror, glass was back on its place and Kallias was gone.

[eggnogs-stupid-ideas]

I am not sure how true this is but I feel the need to share this. At the very least there's probably some way they can be punished for flat out going against the constitution. Thanks Gremylecroux

Alright guys, time to actually post something again instead of reblogging random things

KOSA is not a good thing, I know, shocker. But what I would like to point out is the fact that it goes directly against the constitution by eliminating our freedom of speech. Why is it that those who claim they are "Pro America," those who are so called "Patriots" are people who are signing this bill? Aren't they supposed to support the US and it's values? If so, then why do they actively work and support the erasure of one of the fundamental values of the people? What's stopping them from taking away our other rights?

Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing

We HAVE to stop KOSA from being passed

[butterflysonnets]

yes i'm rooting for m*leven breakup because byler is neat but mostly? i'm rooting for m*leven breakup for the sake of el and mike.

to me, their romance was always a puppy love born out of a combination of social pressures, naïve curiosity, and a lack of true understanding regarding intimacy and romantic love and what it really is. it was real in that they do truly, deeply care about each other and they are close friends, maybe even shared an attraction, but a maturing romance is so much more than that. they've grown up and out of being boyfriend/girlfriend, and that's okay! i think television/film needs to show more often that most of us don't have definite "soulmates" or first childhood loves that we spend our whole lives with. it doesn't mean these relationships meant nothing and didn't impact us, it just means they've run their course and that something else is in the cards, and this is part of life!

i've always felt el was at her best and most confident self when broken up with mike, discovering who she was and what she liked alongside another girl her age instead of just relying on mike for mentorship on how to live in the real world. she deserves more of an opportunity to find herself, her autonomy, and her independence, and to love who she is, and she's made it clear she's felt insecure in the relationship with mike because she isn't being loved and understood the way she wants, needs, and deserves from someone who is her partner.

also, it's okay if mike doesn't love her in "the way he should". he is not obligated to love her romantically and stay in a relationship with her just because she's a girl, because she "needed someone", or because he cares about her a lot. he shouldn't be pressured into a romance if it's not truly coming from his heart. he deserves freedom to find out and honour who he is, too, instead of just staying in his non-functional first relationship — one he got into as a child, essentially — and defining himself that way because it's what's expected when a boy and a girl are close. he loves her in some way, yes, but it's okay if he doesn't feel comfortable or secure being her boyfriend anymore, for whatever reason that is. he's felt insecure too, and that's valid and it matters.

they are their own people and are steadily growing and changing every day. they need time to figure out who those people are, and it's become clear (at least in my opinion) that those people aren't meant to be a couple at this stage.

they deserve freedom. they deserve to grow up and be authentic to themselves and not feel like they need to lie for the sake of a relationship. they deserve to move on from this version of their relationship that isn't making them happy and rekindle the best part of their bond: their strong, beautiful friendship. they don't have to be a couple if it doesn't make them stronger and better and happier people.

i think it would be healthy and wonderful for a show, especially one consumed frequently by young adults, to show a relationship starting, progressing, and ending on good terms in this way. sometimes things don't work out, and that is okay.

[tastymelonfarm]

if I think about katniss and peeta too long my vision starts to look like when you take damage in a cod game

[tonycries]

The Family Matter?!

Synopsis. Babyfevér - it’s never felt so good.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, breéding, mentions of kids/ marriage, a LOT of creampíes, Gojo’s powers, cúmplay (like a lot), spítting, overstím, exhíbitionism (Geto’s), chokíng Nanami, pússy-slappíng, proposals, rúts (Choso), bíting, true form! Sukuna, overspill, dp, bondagé, mentions of dàddy kínk, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. To the one anon that wanted this - how did you read my mind?? Hope y’all have a lovely week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Santa, baby…

“B-but- Christmas isn’t for another few months, Toji—”

Now, Toji has to admit - that broken, honeyed-out little drag of his name is enough to crack even that tough demeanor of his - just a bit. And it’s all he can do to calm down the raging twitch of his buried cock, driving it deeper and deeper against your mushy g-spot to shut up those dangerous moans of yours. 

“B-b-but-” You’re flinching when his deep, baritone voice pitches dramatically high to mock your own, a large palm coming down to give your poor clit a branding smack! “-but, you think that’s gonna stop me, ma?”

Stupidly, you’re whirling your dazed eyes over your shoulder to catch his, only for the calloused pads of his fingers to swiftly force your face back down. 

“Not me, you don’t get to hah- look at me just yet, doll.” Toji grits out from behind you, feverish puffs of breath sending goosebumps down your spine. Down to where your puffy cunt was just bulging with all long, solid inches of his swollen, overworked cock. Sloppy. Overspilling. “Not until you’re giving me another brat by Christmas.” 

A sob wrenches out of you when Toji jostles his sharp hips against yours. Harder, until you could feel every minute smack of his still-full, sensitive balls, every slosh of his syrupy sticky cum coating your walls from earlier. 

“Look.” 

You’re shaking your head in almost-bratty protest, the fat of your ass still pushing and pulling against his rugged thrusts. You feel like you could go insane if you saw any more. Thighs twitching to a shy close, “Ngh- can’t s’too- too much.”

This only pulls out a displeased growl from your pussydrunk boyfriend, rasping out a warning. “No fuck-  don’t you fucking dare-” Big, beefy hands wrench your legs even farther apart to admire the mess he’s made, bruising where he holds them unable to escape. “Don’t you even think of it, woman.”

It’s accompanied by another harsh slap! on your puffed-up clit, this time harder than the last. Shocking you to your heated core until you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, already-ruined cunt just clenching in painful pleasure. 

He laughs - laughs, “Instead of squeezin’ the fucking soul outta me, look here at how you’re wastin’ my cum. How can I make you a momma in time like this, huh?” 

You’re blinking away those big, fat globs of tears to finally spy back down again at your drooling cunt. Swollen folds spread shamefully, gaping. Every slam of his hips makes you gush down his achy shaft with a gloss of your sweet sweet juice and his own cum. It splays in a creamy little puddle at your silken sheets, clinging to your bodies like a second, sloppy skin. “Y-you’re so filthy, Toji.”

But Toji couldn’t bring himself to be disgusted - not one bit. In fact, he could feel the tip of his angry head growing even fatter, expanding to meld its way deep into your elastic walls.

“Filthy, huh?” he chuckles so darkly. “Got such a mouth on ya, can already tell you’re gonna be a ah- strict momma.” His fingers are prying your jaw to sag open, whispering so slow and syrupy along your open mouth, “Well, let me tell you a little secret, ma. Doesn’t matter what you call me now, because in about nine months you’ll be calling me something else.”

“And what would- mmpf!” Oh, for how much he loved your sharp mouth, he sure was well and fully intent on shutting you up. Toji’s hitting his cock at the back of your pussy, just mashing deep into your g-spot in sinful sync. Over and over. “-and what would that be?”

Another finalizing smack to your pulsing clit, so smug and messy. He tilts his head to that growing pool below you, splurging farther and farther with each decisive, feral ram. “Your baby daddy, that’s what.” 

As if on cue, you’re cumming - you can’t even remember which saccharine sweet high of the night, but all you know is Toji’s gifting your gummy cunt with a few bullying kisses on your ravaged g-spot. Rough, lingering clashes of his weepy tip on your ravaged g-spot, sending your toes curling, white-hot shocks of pleasure. Again and again and again-

“Fuck- fuuuck yeah take it.” he’s grunting out hoarsely, hips stuttering and so so feral. Barely having the sanity to pull out in his jagged half-thrusts, splitting you apart on all his weighty length to cum inside you - deep.

Painting each and every inch of your heavenly cunt that could be reached with coat after coat of velvety white - all the way from where he was gliding his fat tip across your cervix, down, down, down to your sensitive spots, your sopping wide opening. “Want- need it so bad. Need ya to make me a daddy again. So fuckin’ bad you have no idea- you’d be fuckin’ scared.”

Those mean fingers smushing your cheeks into an embarrassing pout dance down to gather the dredges of his own cum, oozing out of the corners of your slit in a milky white sheen. Still rutting into you, he suckles on them languidly like his favorite candy, “Mmpf- as sweet as ever, doll.”

“Y-you’re so fuckin’ mean, Toji-” your jaw slacks open at his lewd actions. “Our kid better not get such an- hah- an awful personality.”

That makes him pause - it makes him pull away his digits, glistening and connected with stringy ropes of the mess he’s made. Grinning for just  a split-second before shoving the entire length of his fingers into your plush mouth. 

Toji huffs cockily, the rounded tips of his fingers swirl around and around your lolling tongue, addicting you onto the slighty-salted taste. “Our daughter will be lucky to hngh- get my personality n’ your pretty looks.” And you’re barely even lucid when he’s whispering into your sweat-sheened forehead, “So you better give me good news for Christmas this year, ma.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - “Take it, like a good lil’ wife.”

Your mouth is sagging open at Nanami’s uncharacteristically gritted words. So hoarse, pained - like they were dragged out of his raggedly heaving chest with each bullying ram of his hips. 

It was barely midway into the evening, and you had no clue how you ended up like this. How those fleeting little titters during your romantic at-home dinner date about kids wound up with Nanami splayed on his broad back on the soft silken sheets. Sculpted abs curving into your back when he nuzzles your neck, plowing his furiously hard cock in his favorite mean full nelson.

“Ha- you’re being so-” you’re gasping out in a wet stutter, ass grinding back onto those neat lanes of blond at his thick base. He’s spearheading you so- “-so mean, Ken.”

“Am, I?” he’s purring, a low rumbling growl from the bottom of his chest. “Well, I might be the stricter parent, that’s right.”

Rolled-up sleeves graze against your heated skin, and you could feel every ridge of the veins along his forearms when he spreads your dangling legs even wider. Jutting his hips so deeply upwards to bow your body to the throbbing curve of his dick. “But, I apologize, darling.” Neat rows of his pearly white teeth sink down on your earlobe, “Feel free to do something- anything about it. Because m’afraid I won’t be able to stop any time soon.”

It was a promise - just the clingy feeling of your walls molding and wetting according to his very shape has him losing his mind. His sanity.

Choking back a long, drawn-out groan when two thick fingers slide down to roll over your puffy clit, “Fuuuck, my love, you’re so- hngh perfect like this.” The bed creaks in protest when his powerful thighs arch even higher upwards, all those hours at the gym paying off when every frenzied mash into the bulging treasure of your g-spot makes your mouth water. He breathes into the intimate crook of your neck, “Though, I bet you’d look even prettier as a momma, right?”

Somehow, that makes your face burn more than being split apart on his relentless cock has. 

“Oh- shit.” you whine, fucking your hips back in a sloppy little staccato. Reaching your trembly arm around his strong neck, your fingers find his favorite speckled yellow tie. Yanking until Nanami’s stern lips in a syrupy sweet kiss. “Really wan’ you to hah- breed me, Ken.”

“Fuck- Oh yeah?” he gasps. And if you didn’t know any better then you’d have said that that came out as a fucking whine. The ever-stoic Nanami Kento crumbling bit by bit with each rummaging thrust to shape your gummy walls. “Then why’d it fuck- take so long. Fuck, I’ve been dreaming of this since the ah- day I met you, my girl.”

Sharp hips dig into the plush of your ass with each pivot, it’s bouncing you back and forth along his slobbering cock. So rough. So tall and angry, you’re hit with a steaming hot gush of milky precum every time Nanami’s sliding out of you up to his thick, girthy tip. 

“Been thinking about you and I- and a little one. A few, actually. One blonde with your eyes, the other two with mine and your gorgeous smile.” That sweet little admission has your twitchy fingers subconsciously dragging at the heavy fabric of his tie. Tight around Nanami’s straining neck, making his head light and cock twitch wildly to draw little patterns on your cervix. “Fuck! Fuck no- keep pullin’ like that, darling.” 

You could feel his raw length rub against sensitive sports you never even knew felt good, in sync with that wandering free-hand of his. Now dancing upwards to glide his touchy thumb over your bouncing tits. “K-Ken, m’so close.”

“How pretty these would look all full of milk, darling.” he muses, sounding more like he’s speaking to himself than anything. Your knees are buckling now, cunt eagerly taking in every powerfully pressurized thrust of his. But Nanami hasn’t had enough of his fill, feeling a burning trail down your arching body. Down the valley of your breasts, your stomach, “And here- where m’gonna fuck-” He’s cutting himself up as his hips slam up into you like with a mind of their own, “-fill you up, make you a momma. Oh, you’d be the best momma. The best.”

He’s fucking you so rough now - so jagged that you’re white-knuckling his tie, reeling him in so close. “And you’d- fuck m’gonna-” you’re sobbing now, over those drawled-out squelches from your velvety cunt. “You’d be the best da-”

You can’t finish your sentence - you couldn’t, because with a few more practiced strokes, you’re cumming all over Nanami’s massive cock. Feeling your elastic walls try to suck him up so hard you wondered whether it didn’t hurt. 

But it didn’t - it felt so sinfully good, in fact, that it was only a matter of a few blissful seconds before you’re being filled up with thick globs of his seed. Drooling out of you with each creamy rut into you, your gaping entrance only takes more. Still pounding into you, bottoming out - yet still pushing to give you everything he had to give.

“Sh-shit.” Nanami marvels at the silky ribbons of cum being stuffed inside, the way it slews up with your honeyed slick to form a glistening gloss down both your fronts. “Wait- oh, wait.” Nanami’s trembling cock spurs out a few more overflowing shots of seed at the very thought of what he was about to do. Still stuffed in, he’s reaching over to rustle through the pockets of his dress pants scattered mere inches away from the two of your slick, convulsing bodies on the bed.

You’re jolting when you feel something cold and metallic slide around your left ring finger, “Didn’t think I’d let you be the mother of my kids without a ring, did you, my wife?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Escape?

“Gorgeous…” Geto’s sultry, slow whisper sends goosebumps running down every inch of your skin. And it’s so soothing - so gentle, and yet- “-doesn’t matter how much you tug, these things won’t let you escape, m’kay?”

A wrenching sob rips from your hoarse throat, and all you can manage to do is tug on those tight, hot-pink handcuffs around your wrists. Pulling to prop your fucked-out body against the very top of his luxurious futon, “S-Sugu, you’re so mean.” Your wide eyes scan the pristine tatami room at his shrine, “Anyone could walk in-”

“And yet you’re still being such a slut, my girl.” He flashes you a rosy red grin, so blindingly pretty that it makes your cunt throb. “Still waiting f’me to breed your pretty pussy. Which would it be? The fifth now?”

Geto doesn’t even have to finish the sentence before you’re abruptly sitting upright, bottom lip wobbling with need. Your swollen pussy is just weeping beads of his cum at this point, sobbing down where he was still buried so eagerly inside your gummy walls. Your thighs shaky in- fear? Anticipation? The need for more? 

“Ah ah-” you feel two soft little smacks to the side of your cheek. “Don’t zone out on me just yet, gorgeous. S’this hah- boring for you?” And despite all the pleading shakes of your head, he only plows on, “Aww, what a shame. Guess I just hafta spice things up-”

It’s all the warning you’re getting - barely even - before your poor, weepy cunt is back to being just split apart on his fat head. Not even being eased into it, no care or concern for those overstimulated spasms when he stuffs you full. 

“F-fuck-” your eyes are shooting open - when did they even close? - at the sound of nearby footsteps in the hallway behind those sliding doors. Very nearby. “I swear someone’s gonna catch us, Sugu-”

The only sound that rings throughout his humid, heady room is your wet gag - muffled around the pale, slender fingers of his being shoved between your kiss-bitten lips. All you can register are the soft pads of his digits pressing down on the back of your taste buds and the unforgiving little pulses of his prominent veins dragging against your gummy walls. 

Leaning down - until he’s so dangerously close, until you could count every long, dark lash on his eyelids, every flex of his muscles - slosh of his syrupy sweet inside you - as he sets a languid, lazy pace. “If someone catches us then I will hngh- jus’ keep going, do not test me, pretty girl.”

The other of his splayed out fingers are drawing methodical, dizzying circles on the very tip of your sensitive clit. Matching his teasing place, every grazing nudge of his leaky tip coating your bruising g-spot. 

“Haven’t I already told ya not to start things you c-can’t finish?” Geto’s husky voice is talking you through every clingy thrust. Falling from his pretty lips with each deep snap, fucking you into the drenched futon leisurely like some cocksleeve. “N’ what did you do, hm?”

You couldn’t answer if you wanted to - because Geto’s fingers were still firmly swiping around your tongue. Murmuring, “Exactly that. Just had to make that fuckin’ hah- stupid little joke about me not being able to handle another daughter, huh?”

“Mmpf- hngh Sugur-” you try to moan out at a low thump! outside, but he’s shushing you pliantly quiet with a ragged pump into your womb. Making you gush velvety ribbons of his previous cum.

“Heh, think this cunt actually wants to get out of this without being bred?” It was true, your painted-white walls were just clinging elastically to Geto’s shaft every time he drove into you, sucking up every bit of him like you’re trying to milk out something delicious. Again. 

“And guess what?” he’s so crazed now, eyes glowing with a dark delight. Hips pistoning into yours with fearsome accuracy to smash over and over into the bullseye of your sensitive spot. Sloppier. The shuffling outside getting louder. So unfairly good that you’re barely registering his next words, “M’jus’ gonna breed this slutty pussy until you give me another. Until everyone knows you’re my slut.”

It only takes one, two, three more drilling clashes with your g-spot for you to fall apart once more. 

Your own orgasm bursts out of you. Squirting in glistening dredges again and again until it’s just a few fatiguing shocks of pleasure that have you heaving for air, whining Geto’s name like a mantra. The overstimulation too much, his twitching cock too big - over and over-

“F-fuuuuck- squirting all over, y’made such a mess.” Geto’s moan is so pornographic when that angry divot at his flushed head explodes with spurts of thick hot cum. So addictively sweltering against your plush walls, it floods into your womb, down your thighs - to your lungs it almost feels like. “Gonna give me another daughter? Yeah?” He breathes, head thrown back while he stuffs you too-full, until he could see the seeping white on your creamy cunt in his glassy peripheral vision. And he still isn’t done cumming - thinning out to mere sticky wisps. “Gonna make you so full- so swollen. Until everyone looks at you and knows what I did- how I defiled you. They’ll look at you and see me. Me, me, me, me-”

There’s such an animalistic cadence in the way he’s rutting into you, pushing you further and further up those drenched sheets. Just dragging your body forwards with one strong arm around your handcuffs when his sheer volume gets too much that you’re trying to pathetically escape. 

Thump!

In a split-second, Geto’s grabbing at a hidden dagger from underneath his robes. Throwing - dead straight through the paper doors - only for a loud thud! to echo from outside. “Bet the scum outside don’t even need to hear the pregnancy announcement, huh?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - My strange addiction

Oh, there’s nothing you loved more than Choso losing control - around the time of year when the weather grows a little warmer, when your sweet boyfriend becomes a little more restless. Those dark, dewy eyes of his turning black with something primal, desperate. 

Ingrained in his blood to breed you. To do nothing but breed you. 

Like right now. 

“Oh?” you’re purring with a coy bat of your lashes, looking over your shoulder to where he was looming. Flushed, gulping, absolutely drunken off your heady scent. “On your rut again, Cho?”

And that makes his entire body jolt, as if zapped by a sudden wave of electricity. Large, trembly hands fist your thin shirt to pin you down like some ragdoll onto the cool kitchen counter. Breath hitching, such a pained grunt leaves him at the sound of his name leaving those pretty lips of yours. 

Almost guiltily, he’s baring a wet gasp, “Y-yes. Saw you makin’  ah- makin’ us dinner in the kitchen and-” It’s like he hasn’t even realized what he was doing, slapping his raw cock against your drooling slit with each word. Smack! Smack! Smack! “-and- I just thought about how- just needed to…”

But alas, Choso doesn’t get to finish a single thought - because you’re stepping up onto your tip-toes - ever-so-slightly. Feeding your needy cunt with just the round girth of his very tip.

“Just needed to what, Cho?” you hum, quirking a devilish brow his way, holding back a keen at the sheer stretch of him around your sopping entrance. “Or do you wanna stop?”

Fuck, Choso swears he could feel his overworked balls squeeze so painfully at the very thought. “No-”  he’s hissing, glassy gaze widening almost comically. “No no no no no- please no. please, please this is all I want.” 

With a sultry giggle, you reach behind to pull him roughly by his soft strands. Choso’s grunting out hoarsely, letting himself be dragged to clash his lips against your bruised ones in such a sloppy kiss. All tongue and teeth, he drinks you in like a man depraved. “All you ever want is to just hah- fuck me in this kitchen, Cho?”

It’s so cute the way he’s sputtering dazedly into your sagging mouth, such a sweet whiny cry of, “Yes but no- fuck, I jus’ wanna–” The slow drag of his heavy tongue coats the crook of your neck in his saliva, hammering his swollen cock upwards until he was practically lifting you off the ground with sheer inhuman force. “Jus’ wanna breed you full, baby. Breed this pretty pussy like m’meant to.”

It’s with an almost-animalistic type of worship that Choso’s just ramming the rest of his thick cock into you until he’s spearheading straight into your spongy g-spot, weighty balls - painful, and ready for breeding - smacking against your ass. Addicted. 

“O-oh, fuck–” you can’t stop your honeyed gasps. “You’re s-so big- so hard even after just this morning? What a naughty boy.” 

Just slamming you down onto the cool marble,“Fuck- fuck fuck y’know what I imagined when I hah- saw you in the kitchen?” Such throaty groans drag along with each and every plunge into your slobbering pussy, Choso was always so talkative when he was like this. Slurring out a mile a minute, “Saw my pretty wife, the pretty mother of my kids.”

And you knew what he was going to say, but that doesn’t stop you from milking him so tight, velvety walls contracting in a way that almost made it difficult to maintain his sloppy staccato. Back arching into such a slutty bow to drag even needier down his drilling length

But your beloved boyfriend still wasn’t done, kissing away hotly at the corner of your mouth. “N’ s’not jus’ the hngh- rut talking either. Fuuuuck-” All six feet of his muscled body pins you to the counter, and distinctly, you could feel him scramble desperately to buck up a knee to angle his hips even deeper. “Saw you makin’ breakfast before school, and I’m- hngh- and I’m getting the kids ready - a boy and a girl, both as gorgeous as you.”

“Y-yeah?” Is all you can breathe out, “What- hngh- what else?”

You didn’t expect his humorless chuckle - broken, and a few pitches higher than normal. “What else?” His eyes are absolutely crazed now, and he’s biting down on your pouty lower lip. “Oh what didn’t I see?” 

Bowing till you could feel every ripple of his abs against your back. Every slow tremor of his glossy head nudging past your defenses, hitting deep at the bottom of your g-spot. It takes a few more sloppy pumps for you to realize that Choso’s still speaking. 

“Saw the wedding- saw the first birth, the way I cried-” The way he was crying now, ragged, overstimulated tears dripping down his pretty cheeks. Panting out wetly, “-what a great momma you are, the best. The way I help you hngh- milk these p-pretty tits when it’s too much. But my most favorite of all-”

You don’t hear the rest - and he doesn’t tell you, because he’s too busy cumming. Cumming and cumming so much that Choso thinks he can’t stop, swollen base rummaging deep inside to plug up those thick ropes of hot seed inside. It was impossible that he hadn’t achieved his dream with this. 

It’s bloating you up, too much. Spilling out of those little gaps at the dips and ridges of his twitchy cock that your inner thighs cover in a clingy white sheen. 

Drawn on instinct, you can only scream when Choso’s sharp canines bite down on the sensitive spot at your neck. Hard enough to draw blood - and, if you two were in any better state of mind, you’d have noticed that he did draw blood. 

A thin saturation of heady red coating his devilish grin, delicate strings of spit still connect to the mating mark. “-my favorite was when we made another.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - DOUBLE STUFFED!

“One more.”

“Kuna-”

“One more.”

When all you’re getting is that leeringly dangerous grin - the very same one he gifts any weak curses just about to be killed at his feet - you know there’s no way you’re getting out of this. Either you take it - or he makes you. 

Gliding your palms across Sukuna’s bulging pecs, your trembly legs twitch atop his muscled thighs. Gingerly jutting along where your poor cunt was being split apart on his twin bulgingly hard cocks. Up and down up and down up and-

“S’too much-” you’re whining, feeling the gush of his sticky cum coat down your thighs. Oozing out of your bloated cunt with every syrupy sweet bounce of his ravaging cocks. “I- not enough space-”

Any you were about to stupidly babble out is cut off when Sukuna wraps five thick digits around your exposed neck, intentionally dipping his sharp nails to leave branding little divots right about your racing pulse. A warning. A punishment. “Did I tell ya to keep runnin’ that hah- mouth, brat?” he spits, waiting for you to shake your head deliriously “no” before grinning. “Then why am I hearing so much t-talking n’ not enough of this slutty lil’ cunt of yours taking one more? You hear that?” 

All that was ringing in your ears was the honeyed echoes of squelches from below, smacking and slapping in sync with your pathetic movement. 

“Exactly.” Sukuna’s snapping you out of your thoughts, one hand resting at the glistening plush of your hips, the other spreading your puffy pussy lips to let you just slobber down his angry, red shafts. Glossing over him all the way from those fat tips to the creamy ring around his base. “Wastin’ too much of my hngh- cum with yer talkin’, brat. How are ya gonna have time to carry my seed?”

And he’s so large - so strong. Not even breaking a sweat when he’s getting up from his decadent throne with you boneless in his arms, still stuffing your cunt full with all greedy inches of both cocks. 

“O-oh, fuck, Kuna!” you’re squealing when gravity pulls you down until you could feel the scratch of his pink happy trail against the sensitively grazed areas of your skin. The dizzying push of two matchingly massive girths stretching your gummy walls to its limits. Your nails draw jagged red line down his tan skin, trying to keep just an ounce of your sanity together, “Fuck you’re in so hngh- deep.”

“Easy on the back there.” Sukuna’s rolling his eyes, but he can’t deny the way his heart clenches at the way you’re so fucked-out and easily sliding down his cock like some pretty sex toy. Whimpering about some baby names.

Not like it mattered, anyway. He’d name the little devilspawn whatever you wanted - after fighting about it for the fun of it. Heh, he always has been soft on you, huh?

All it takes is one hand holding you up, another to toy with the sensitive nub of your clit. Rolling and teasing you even deeper into his arms while another still rests firmly around your throat. 

The remaining hand? At Sukuna’s favorite place cupping your teary cheek, gliding away those big fat tears with the cure of his soft thumb, “Shh shhh, you can take it. You’re my pretty lil’ queen, right?”

Even his mind a hot melted mess on your dripping cunt. Just fucking into you ruthlessly, up, up, up till he was bulging at the very back of your cunt. One fat tip firmly kissing your g-spot, the other gliding in a silky smooth cadence against your poor cervix.

Matching veins rubbing matching sensitive spots, rendering you so awfully dumb on his cocks. Mixing with the hypnotic splattering of his seed against the velvet of your walls, it’s impossible to not feel like you’re about to fucking burst. 

Intertwining your fingers with his much longer ones on your face, you’re dragging them to rest at that palpable little nudge along the middle of your stomach. Pressing down to make him feel where he was buried deep, hiccuping lewdly, “You’re right here, Kuna. S’gonna be- hngh! impossible to not give you an heir.”

An heir. 

And fuck he couldn’t take it anymore - if anything even fucking heard about this, they’d faint. 

Because with a shuddering gasp, the king of curses was just dragging your weight down his cocks - over and over - to gloss your insides with each new coat of the thick, syrupy cum weeping out of his angry heads. So overfilled, but still greedily swallowing everything Sukuna gives. 

“Fuck-.” With an angrily strained growl, Sukuna only speeds up his motions on your clit. Methodical. Urgent, even. Still fucking him seed deeper to smash his quivering tips at your g-spot. Both - two divots pressurizing you at the same time. “How dare you make me cum first, woman. Think you’re soo fucking funny, huh? Better give me hundreds of lil’ hellspawn to make up for it.”

“N-noo-” you croon, but that limp little curl of your lips at the abundance of seed seeping out of you gives you away. It was so unlike him - so startling to spy the blushing rouge at his ears, the way his fat balls smack and only squeeze harder when you milk every drop. So hot, and splattering right down both of your legs, forming a creamy puddle at his floor. “I didn’t-”

You don’t finish your sentence, you can’t. Because with all of his brute strength, Sukuna is just wrenching that orgasm from your grasp - fucking you over and over through your high. 

The puddle only grows wider. And there’s no warning before he spits, once. Twice. Right onto the middle of the overwhelmed taste-buds on your tongue, gently shutting your mouth with one hand. The other spreading your puffy pussy lips to let you drool a glossy coat of cum down his front. Making a mess.

“S’inauspicious, y’know. Having the momma cum first-” He’s gruffing, sure you were still crashing into wave after wave of pleasure to even hear his whines. “-so why don’t you give me one more?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Meet the Gojos

“Toru- we’ll get caught.”

“Shut up- fuck- shut up.” Gojo’s face was ashen, grinning so dangerously at the sight of you completely and utterly bound into that obscene mating press he loved so much. Your pretty pussy at the perfect angle for him to hammer his achy cock so thoroughly into you. “S’not what this cute cunt is sayin’ though, sweetheart.”

Fuck, if you were in any better state of mind, you’d have smacked him maybe. But you knew right by the glowingly amused tinty in his blue eyes that he was waiting for that to happen - goading even. 

You’re whining hotly, fingernails digging sharply into the winding wooden desk rested cool beneath your skin. “The- the elders are about to have a- hngh! meeting in here soon and-”

Gojo’s lips curl  when your breath hitches, feeding you each and every one of his merciless inches over and over- “Well then it’s damn good that they’ve been bugging me for an heir, dontcha think~?” 

You’re letting your drooling maw fall slack in disbelief - only to create the perfect opening for your boyfriend to catch you into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. Spitting out little profanities with each harsh push of his fat gliding tip across the slippery slopes of your walls. “Heh, always so fuuuck- cute when you’re fucked dumb on my cock.” he’s chuckling, mouth looser than usual with the way the tight channel of your cunt is sucking out every one of his honest thoughts - his soul. “But ya needa get more firm, I’m gonna be the fun parent.”

It takes another harsh snap! of those toned hips bruising against your ass for you to jump back into your heady reality. 

“T-Toru…” you’re murmuring, but it comes out so much more breathless than you wanted. Catching on to that syrupy, fucked-out tone of yours, Gojo takes the opportunity to ram his swollen length even meaner into your slobbering cunt. Wringing out your narrow hole to mold around the exact shape of his massive dick. “We- ngh! We’ve got to set an example.”

You feel the fat girth of his shaft grow two sizes even bigger at your scolding. Bulging those two prominent veins down the middle to imprint onto your gummy walls. The roaming point of his glossed-over head pressing straight onto your g-spot, making you writhe underneath him. Bucking up for more more more-

A pale, splayed-out palm slams! down onto the creaky mahogany right beside your head, and when you’re batting your dazed gaze up you see-

Oh. 

Oh fuck - forget setting an example, you were about to be made one. 

Because Gojo’s blue irises were sparking with tiny rods of lightning, teeth bared in such an amusedly feral grin that it made your cunt ache. 

“Fuck-” even his voice sounded deeper - raspier, cracking ever-so-slightly with need near the end. “Fuck, you can’t talk shit to me about ‘setting examples’ when you get so fuckin’ wet just because I play a little rough.”

Playing a little rough was an understatement - and both of you knew it. Because if Gojo was simply toying with your sanity before, then he was well and fully intent on breaking it right now. Right along with your poor pussy with those bludgeoning, harsh thrusts you were being gifted with.

The expansion of his weighty cock has you squealing with each powerful slam, “Fuck- fuck you little-”

“Hunk? Absolute catch?” he grins, voice dropping to a low husky drawl. A slick little trail of drool dips down the corner of his mouth already with every cracking beg and plea, followed by a series of lingering grinds - not even thrusts, just slow, shallow swerves to feel you tighten wetly around his hot shaft. The lights flicker above, “Father of your kids?” 

That makes you wrack in a sinful shudder, words tumbling out before your syrupy sweet brain could compute them, “You’d make a- a good daddy, Toru.”

Crack! 

It’s happening in a split-second - a stuttering gasp catches in Gojo’s throat, those baby blue eyes going wide. Glowing. In the distance, your popping ears catch the sharp shattering of that prized vase in the corner of the room. 

But right now it felt like you were the one about to break - because ribbons and ribbons of Gojo’s hot, potent seed were knocking on the door to your womb. Splurging in thick dredges to stuff you full from the inside out. 

“Fuck- fuck, you evil evil woman.” Gojo breathes out, the only thing he could seem to do at this very moment. When the tethering clenches of his balls have tapered out, he’s pulling out to smack! the length of his throbbing, red shaft on your clit. Mouth hanging open at the way just buckets of his own cum gush out of your tight hole. “Shit- m’gonna breed this cute cunt. Gonna fill her up until you’re so round and swollen.” he’s babbling, gliding pale fingers across the sloshing cum now seeping onto the desk to shove it back inside. 

“Fuuuck- m’gonna breed her till she hah- doesn’t know what it’s like to not be stuffed full. Until you’re giving me a cute lil’ blue-eyed baby.” Crackling with jujutsu energy, he’s smack down on your puffy cunt - hard! “Until m’not the strongest. Not even second- or third or fourth or fifth-” kissing your pouty lips in addicted little pecks. “-no. S’gonna be my- our kids. All ours.”

“Ngh! Toru–” you’re whining, only taking another few messy swivels on your cunt before you cum. And you swear, the lights go out at this very moment - the only thing you can see being Gojo’s flickers of purple jujutsu and his gleamingly white grin.

He smacks another hand down on that wooden meeting desk - the now broken desk, standing wearily on only three legs - and the puddle of cum seeping below you. “Think we’ll be excused from the meeting? Because m’not done with you just yet, ma.”

A/N. Yuh I had two Kendrick references I apologize (I don’t).

Plagiarism not authorized.

[alastorss]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Alastor's antlers are embarrassingly, pathetically, unbearably sensitive.

He can't for the life of him figure out why—it's not like any of the other transfigured creatures wandering around the underworld were made this way. Most other animal-like sinners don't seem to care about or even acknowledge their characteristics.

Yet here he is, purposefully hiding them away just so that no one will discover his terrible weakness. Oh, what he would give to be like the others if only to ignore their incessantly uncomfortable presence on his head.

Perhaps it was a curse from heaven that made him this way, or karma that he was repaying from his life. Either way, he can't stand being touched.

At least, that's what he thought.

There's no malicious intent behind your hands, no glint in your eye that makes the primal instincts in his head scream at him to melt into the shadows. You're as gentle as can be, fingers running delicately along the intricacies of his antlers and stopping just at the ends of them.

"They're beautiful," you whisper with your eyes blown wide. Your shoulders rise and fall with each rapid breath, probably from the adrenaline of standing so close to an Overlord like this. And Alastor, no less.

Your reliable hotelier. Your first real friend in the hotel. The one whose smile cannot be trusted.

But for some reason, you can't shake the feeling that he's looking at you with pure, genuine appreciation even if his smile is a little wonky.

"Why, thank you, darling!"

He jerks away from you quick as the wind, standing tall once again and towering over you. His expression has morphed into something more strained—you can tell by the way his face creases up as his eyes narrow.

He was the one who decided to invade your personal space while the two of you were arguing. He just didn't think that you would be so bold as to get distracted by his antlers and have the gall to reach out to touch them.

The worst part? The absolute worst part of it all is that no one in all the time he's been in Hell has been gentle with him like that.

Add that to the list of things he despises. Or likes. You're confusing him now.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You have some nerve, he thinks.

Your hands have found a new home resting atop his head, with your fingers combing through his hair and tracing up and down the curve of his antlers.

It becomes a nightly routine—him on the barstool or sitting in front of the piano and you standing behind him with your fingers tangled in his hair and your chin on his head, perched right between the horns. Others in the hotel have started to raise a brow, but you don't seem to care.

So when you finally decide to break routine, sitting on the opposite end of the couch from him, his eye twitches.

There isn't even an audience tonight, everyone else already tucked into bed save for Husk behind the bar who's too busy with a bottle to care. The silence between you is heavy as lead.

"Is something the matter?" Alastor finally abruptly asks, eyes narrowed at you from the side. You shift uncomfortably.

"Why would something be the matter?"

He's not in the mood for games right now. "This is the first time you've sat away from me in months," he observes.

You look at him, surprised by his hostility over this. "Well, Lucifer told me that you don't like—"

"Lucifer," he interrupts, head now whipping to the side so he can fully glare at you. "Knows nothing."

You blink at him, stunned. With the way he's acting, he almost seems... annoyed that you've decided to stop being so handsy?

Silence overcomes you again as you just stare at each other, completely at a loss of words. Alastor finally realizes his snappiness and composes himself once more, exhaling through his teeth.

His smile softens at you, missing its usual edge. You know him like this the best—head in your lap and antlers exposed. It's familiar to you in a way that it could never be to anyone else. At least, you hope that's true.

"He knows nothing," the radio demon says one more time for good measure, eyes drifting shut under the weight of your hands.

Alastor has never liked to be touched before. But maybe there is a first time for everything, and maybe the safety of your touch brings him enough ease that you're the first he admits he can tolerate.

His smile says it all. He's content like this, even if he would deny it with his chest if you ever told anyone else.

"Okay," you breathe. "I believe you."

[diushek]

Slightly inspired by Apothecary Diaries,, SVSSS AU, where Shen Yuan is sold (after being kidnapped from his wealthy family) to the palace to work as a servant and he ends up working as an assistant to the first wife Ning Yingying just because he knows about rare flowers and helped in several attacks from other wives.

So, working inside the palace, there's this strange boy. Shen Yuan quickly assumes he is a eunuch because few men work so closely with the harem. And he is... well, strange. He has such a low presence and such a forgettable appearance that it almost seems like a costume. Shen Yuan can barely remember what he looks like or what color he was wearing as soon as he stops looking at him. Anyway, they become friends! Because despite everything, he is very responsible and always seems to want to help in everything, cooking for the wives, offering help and kind words.

(Shen Yuan is unaware that when a wife treats this servant badly, despises what he does just to serve, she loses privileges. Some have been expelled from the harem. If they are genuinely kind, good-hearted... Then they will treat even the servants well, and will gain privileges for it.)

Anyway, Shen Yuan does his job, helps a lot, walks around here and there, and begins to build a closer relationship with this servant. They are something like close friends who share outings, shopping, walks, normal things!

... Then one day, Emperor Luo Binghe approaches Shen Yuan for company. Shen Yuan is ???? absolutely confused. Eh, why is Lord Luo looking for him to serve him tea and talk? What's going on? And Lord Luo keeps staring at him, asking too many questions. Are his days in the palace good? Would he like to return home? Shen Yuan is sure he would like to see his Ge and Meimei, but he has found comfort in the palace. And more freedom than he has ever had before. The Emperor practically interrogates him before letting him go.

THEN, things get even weirder. The Emperor starts seeing him more often! He gives him outings, GIFTS, the Emperor cooks for him. Shen Yuan considers this a lie, since Shen Yuan knows the seasoning of the food the Emperor serves him, he has eaten his servant friend's food since he arrived at the palace!! But he lets the lie go unexposed and just eats, accepts the company and ignores when Ning Yingying tells him that he is being courted by her husband, and soon they will be fellow wives. Shen Yuan finds it ridiculous!! Besides, Emperor Luo Binghe is charming, but why would he accept his courtship???

(So there we have Emperor Luo Binghe, with that harem that he needs to keep organized. And while Ning Yingying is his first wife, best friend, and the one in charge of the harem, the truth is that Luo Binghe blindly believes that people will only show their true selves to people they consider inferior or less than them. So with a few charms on him, he changes his appearance to that of this humble servant with no beauty or worth to keep things under control and find out the secrets that no one would whisper around the Emperor, hoping that maybe one of his wives will even notice some day. None of them finds out, of course.

Except Shen Yuan. Shen Yuan, who seems to enjoy the company of the servant more than the Emperor, who knows so much about so many things and who is so full of love and kindness...)

[utterlyazriel]

featherlight touch

a/n: and what if i said surprise smut. what then :) my soft launch of the fact i can and do write smut... <3 word count: easy peasy barely over 1k-squeezy synopsis: Given particular knowledge, you try something new. wing!fic

Your knees sink into the black satin sheets of Azriel’s bed and you sigh contently.

Across the room at the window, the curtain is haphazardly drawn, letting in a curious ray of moonlight. A dim glow lights the room.

You’re thankful for it now—the moonlight allowing you to drink in the sight beneath you with a ravenous gaze. Thighs straddling across his hips, you take in Azriel under you with, what can only be described as, ardent hunger.

But, well, it’s not often enough you get to be on top, after all.

Azriel’s wings splay out on the bed, gloriously on display. His scarred hands rest easily on your waist. His hazel eyes, narrowed in a suspicious way, are focused entirely on you. He, as always, looks devastatingly handsome.

“I’m not sure if I like the look of that look.” He comments slyly, shifting his head to flick a stray curl back from his eyes.

His hands on your waist give a gentle squeeze, as if to reassure you that he’s only teasing. His shadows lurk, traversing the rumpled bedsheets with a lazy designation, unbothered.

“Oh, hush,” you respond. “As if I haven’t been on the receiving end of this before.”

At the mere mention of your reversed positions, Azriel grins, even as a hot glow takes to his cheeks. The dusty rose colour sets a warm spark off in your chest and the heat wastes no time heading south, between your thighs.

Your relationship with Azriel is of the newer side, despite how long you've actually known each other. Long time friends, eventually, finally turned lovers.

But these new steps forward together, getting to know each other in an entirely new way—it's still enough to make Azriel fluster. Centuries old he is but a bashful shyness still remains, if only you can coax it out.

Bringing you back to the moment, Azriel squeezes your waist again, one hand shifting across your skin, his thumb dipping closer to your waistband.

“I don’t know what you mean,” He says, even as his satisfied smile gives him away. He watches closely as you pluck up his large hand and move it back to your waist, the message clear. He's not in charge tonight.

“Y’know,” you say, voice softer suddenly.

You haven’t let go on his hand. As you speak, you let your fingers travel down his veined and chiseled forearm slowly. “I learnt something today. From Feyre.”

Azriel watches you intently, the very feel of your skin across his enough to make him shudder in muted pleasure. No one touches him like you do.

Goosebumps break out along his arm as your hand reaches his bulging bicep and you drag your nails across it lightly.

“Is that so?”

Despite all his body betrays him, Azriel is a master at keeping his face and voice cool and calm. You smile at the sight of it, goaded on by his unwavering voice, and let your hand linger, resting on his collarbone.

“What did she tell you?” Azriel asks, his dark brows raising.

Purposefully, you shift your hips an inch, grinding against his own. Azriel barely manages to hide the grunt it pulls from him, his fingers flexing against your waist as if he’s resisting something more.

“She told me,” You say, dragging out the words, sultry and low.

Your hand begins to move, tracing the line of his defined chest and feeling it heave slightly beneath your touch. Tantalisingly slow, you let it trail down, skimming across his toned stomach where you pause.

“That if I ask you nicely, there’s a certain spot—”

Your teasing, trailing touch moves sideways, dipping down his ribcage and nearing his wings. They rustle against the sheets, a minuscule motion, that you hope is in what’s anticipation.

If what Feyre said is true...

Moving slow, so there’s time for him to interrupt you, you reach down and hover your hand over the delicate membrane of his wings.

Intentions clear, your eyes dart to Azriel’s to check.

Pupils blow wide, the ring of hazel you love so much barely visible, Azriel looks debauched before you've even begun. His hands are stilled on your waist and his cheeks are that same glowing scarlet. After a beat it becomes clear he’s waiting, not stopping you.

Grinning, you take your cue.

Brushing your fingers gently across a section of his wings, the reaction is instantaneous.

Azriel shudders, his whole body shivering as a strangled breath passes through his clenched jaw, his eyes fluttering closed. The hands on your waist constrict, tightening his grip, and beneath you his hips shift up, into you.

The shape of him, pulsating and hot, suddenly feels much firmer than before.

“She’s—right.” The words come out in two stilted breaths, Azriel’s chest rising and falling a little faster now as he fights to compose himself. His eyes open, heavier lidded than they were a moment ago. His tongue darts out to wet his lips.

"Is she?" Your voice is lilted in mock uncertainty, given away by your mischievous grin. "I think I better check again."

This time, instead of a small brush, you try something bolder. Two fingers on either side of a prominent vein, you draw a delicate stripe up his wing.

Azriel whines— a soft, pitiful noise that leaks out through his clenched teeth. It melts into a soft groan as his whole body shifts, his hips shoving up, seemingly out of his control. His hands pull you down at the time, dragging you forward against his hardness.

Something fiercely hot simmers in your gut, both at the friction and his glorious reaction. He's been fucking holding out on you.

"I don't know, I'm still not sure..." You continue, far too delighted to abuse your newfound knowledge.

Stroking another soft line up his wing, this time you're rewarded with a needy whimper. His chest arches up, his head thrown back lightly—nearly writhing in pleasure from just a few touches.

"Oh, Az," You murmur, half consoling and half wicked. His screwed up eyes take a moment to find yours and you relish the panting of his chest. The rosiness of his cheeks has spread, crawling down his neck and beginning along his toned chest.

"This your plan?" He says, but it's nowhere near that unwavering voice from earlier, raspy and on the way to ruined. "To—" He takes a sharp inhale as your nail scrapes the membrane again. "—to tease me all night?"

You're impressed he's got the words out, given the sight of him. His hair looks messier now. Paired with his heaving chest and eyes bright with lust, he looks downright sinful.

"Doesn't sound too bad a plan to me." You say, letting your hips draw forward, then back, the smallest rocking motion against him.

Azriel hisses, his large, scarred hands threatening to bruise your hips with how tight they grip them. He makes no attempt to stop you though.

"What do you think?"

You purposefully retract your hand, hovering it over his wing, and watch his face. Wings are very personal to Fae and Azriel letting you touch his own, in such an intimate way, was not lost on you.

You don't want to overstep, even if you do desperately want to see what happens if you stroke once, twice, three times in a row. Gods do you want to watch him fall apart beneath you, whimpering and whining through it all.

"I think you're a temptress," Azriel says, breathless. His eyes, heavy with desire, give away his answer. A grin spreads across your face, devious and enamoured all at once.

"A temptress you'll let have her way with you?"

"Depen—ah," His voice shudders into another whimper as you touch your fingertip back to his velvety wing, drawing a small circle.

Eyes crushing closed, it takes another moment for him to catch his breath before he speaks again, breath ragged. "Mother above..."

His wing, the one you've been taunting, rustles against the bed. It lifts up an inch before flapping down in an almost impatient motion. Like a cat, wagging its tail. Azriel wets his lips again, their skin cherried and plush.

"Alright," He says, faux begrudgingly. His eagerness is given away by another impatient rustle of his wing and the throbbing length of him, pressing firmly up against you.

His gives your waist another squeeze and then lets go, letting his arms fall lax to his side. Trusting you completely.

"Have your way with me."

[sinstear]

playing with vi’s sensitive boobs🤤

and what if i say this made me rip my shirt off? hope you don’t mind the fluff sprinkled in.

your shared bedroom smells of a mix between a vanilla candle and your sweet fruity perfume with vi comfortably lying between your legs and back resting against your chest, happily. “you’re quiet,” vi murmured, enjoying the feeling of your lips against her temple, and waiting to feel that small little beat to know she’s here and you’re not just dreaming of her.

“just thinking,” you answered, fingers lightly tracing patterns on her stomach. sometimes writing i love you on the hard muscles of her abs, or just drawing a heart.

“about?”

“you,”

“me?”

you don’t answer verbally, more so the kiss you plant just below her ear gives her the answer she was looking for, or didn’t know she wanted and leans into your touch and hums softly.

“well, i think about you too.” she finally spoke up, enjoying the comfortable silence. the feeling of your hand on her stomach, and lips on her skin had her flushed and hot. violet loved you being close and always having your hands on her.

“that’s good to know,” you smiled and left another kiss on her neck. “i love thinking about you. makes my day better, always.”

vi barely has time to respond to your words, what she wanted to say was ready on the tip of her tongue but when your hand grazes her nipple over her shirt, an action so light and innocent, you hear it, the sharp intake of her breath and the way she twitches against you. “vi?” you chuckled against her ear.

“shut up,” she huffed, but there was no true malice or annoyance behind her words and relaxed more on your chest as you pushed your hand up her shirt and quickly cupped one of her tits. “shit,” vi jolted, cold fingers grazed her nipple again. “baby,”

“relax,” you kissed her shoulder and squeezed her breast lightly. “let me look after you.”

nodding wordlessly against your head, vi pathetically pushes her shirt up, and closes to ignore the laugh you let out at her eagerness and simply rolled her now pebbled nipple between your fingertips. “so sensitive,” you murmured into her ear, catching the lobe between your teeth. “such pretty tits, hm?”

violet whines, reaches her own hand up and places it over yours. “they’re okay,” she said, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip and trying to hide her face in your neck.

“okay? baby, your tits are so fuckin’ perfect,” you pinched her nipple harder and hummed at her high pitched whimper. “yeah, so perfect.”

“baby,” her face flushed and breathing heavier had you smirking into the side of her cheek. the tension in the room grew, and grew more hotter with each graze of her tits.

it’s only when you’re cupping them between both hands, rolling her nipples and kissing her neck that violet lets out another continuous string of whines and whimpers. her head falls back against your shoulder with a light thump and her eyes flutter closed. “you like that?”

“yes,” she admits pathetically, shapely inhaling at a sudden harsher pinch and grabbing onto your arm, sinking her blunt nails into your skin. “fuck, yes, i like it.”

“my sensitive girl,” you cooed and watched the way her nails contained to sink deeper into the skin. “i could touch your tits all day, so pretty and perfect, love them so much.”

“i love you.” vi choked out, puffing out soft breaths at each squeeze and pinch. “feels good.”

nipping and sucking at her neck, marking up her skin even more, you don’t register the fact violet’s eyes start rolling back into the back of her head with each of your touches, until you pinch her nipple between your fingertips again and her body tenses in your hold and moans loudly all of a sudden.

the angelic sound sends a shiver down your spine.

fluttering your eyes open at the sound, you remove yourself from her neck and that’s when you find a smirk curving up on your lips at the sight of her chest heaving up and down quickly. “baby, did you just—”

“shut up!” vi stammered out of embarrassment and blushed furiously.

“did you just cum by me playing with your tits?”

turning slightly and burying her face in the crook of your neck, vi nods nervously and clings onto you tightly. “it just felt—”

“i know, baby,” you smiled and kissed the top of her head. “how about we see how many times i can make you cum by playing with your tits?”