#don’t come at me about the berries. I love me a good berry

[hyunebunx]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ' late night moments with skz !

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: this is just sleepy fluff <3 some of the boys get kind of emotional.

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: happy binnie day!! <3 to this day, these are some of my favorite hcs i've ever written so i hope you enjoy! (early morning moments with them right here <3)

𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧ - 2:34 am

“Do you think Berry misses me sometimes?” He mumbles into your lap, voice full of sleep as you gently massage his scalp. Looking down at him, your eyes soften when he hugs your middle and hides his face in your stomach which prompts your other hand to begin tracing his features softly.

“Of course, she does, baby.” Chan almost purrs in response and your heart melts at the sight, managing to contain the sudden urge to squish his cheeks together. “Remember how excited she was the last time you visited? She was jumping, running around you and never left your side the whole time you were there.”

A moment passes and then two with no response from your boyfriend and that’s when you realize, by his even breathing, that he finally fell asleep.

You smile and lean down to plant a sweet kiss on his forehead, whispering a sincere I love you in his ear, not stopping your massage.

Sleeps like this, in your lap, until you’re sure he’s asleep for good before you slowly move him into a more comfortable position and wrap his whole body in a blanket burrito.

𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧ - 11:59 pm

“Hug me, I’m cold!”

You hear him groan before he turns over to face you, grumbling under his breath as he envelopes your body in a big hug and begins to squeeze the life out of you. All out of love, of course.

“Better now?” “Minho, I can’t breathe!”

Doesn’t let go but does tilt your head up to look into your eyes and the love you see as you stare back almost has you in tears. A sleepy smile makes its way onto his lips and that’s when you manage to loosen his grip by wiggling into his arms, wasting no time as you begin to plant open-mouthed kisses all over his face.

His smile widens until giggles escape him, loving the way your lips feel on his skin as he lets you do whatever you want until you’re satisfied. When you finally reach his lips but don’t linger for as long as he’d like, instead kissing them repeatedly while also giggling, he takes matters into his own hands and kisses you deeply while still keeping the initial softness of your previous ones.

𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧ - 3:47 am

You toss and turn in the sheets for what feels like the millionth time before finally giving up with a frustrated sigh. “Binnie, I can’t sleep.”

“Me neither.” The response comes instantly and you sit up on your elbows to find him staring at the ceiling, visibly exhausted. You frown, scooting closer to hug him by the middle and rest your chin on his chest.

“Everything okay?”

Your soft voice prompts him to let it all out, to rant about work and his daily struggles at a fast pace that you can barely keep up with. When his voice quivers, you look up and plant comforting kisses on his neck and jaw, one hand gently massaging his chest through his nightshirt.

When he’s done and his speech slows down, Changbin moves to hide his face in your hair, muscular arms wrapping around your body to bring you closer, almost like he wanted to morph your bodies together. Being one with the love of your life sounded great right now – to be able to take all of his pain and discomfort so that he’ll always be happy and healthy was something you dreamt about often. Unfortunately, until that was possible, you hoped from the bottom of your heart that what you’re able to do right now is enough.

𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧ - 1:08 am

“Forget worms, would you still love me if I was a deadly shark?”

Hyunjin looks up from his phone, flabbergasted, just to find you already looking at him. He’s silent, waiting for you to elaborate but when you don’t, he sighs and gives in. “Darling, what the hell are you talking about?”

You roll your eyes, cuddling closer as you place your head in the crock of his neck to inhale his comforting scent. His arms pull you closer instantly, phone long forgotten. “This hypothetical situation, Jinnie, is critical for our relationship. Please take it seriously.”

Is confused the whole time as you ramble on and on about your ‘hypothetical situation’ that at some point, having had enough, he just turns his back to you and gets comfortable on his other side.

When you follow him and throw a leg over his body, continuing on while drawing patterns onto his back, he swiftly turns around to hover over you, pinning you to the mattress. Your eyes meet and for a second, you think he’s going to kiss you until your dream is shattered as he begins tickling you mercilessly instead. A tickle war starts that leaves you both breathless and laughing well into the night.

𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧ - 1:56 am

“When you’re away and I miss you, I spray this pillow with your cologne and cuddle it as I would cuddle you.”

Jisung’s eyes widen slightly as you speak against his lips, the lingering sadness in your tone pulling at his heartstrings in an unpleasant way. You’re face to face, staring lovingly at each other while talking in hushed voices about everything that comes to mind.

He knows that at this time during the night, he gets all soft and mushy but he wasn’t expecting to cry this soon. You were so good to him, his own angel on earth that would wait for him for as long as it was needed. You deserved so much better.

Gently cupping your cheek, you lean into his touch and close your eyes in contentment, and he bites his tongue to stop himself from crying. “I’m sorry, baby.”

His voice is shaky so without a word, you cuddle closer, burying your head in his chest and holding him tighter while also kissing his covered chest. “Sorry? Sorry for what? Don’t be silly, Ji. Your love makes all this waiting around worth it every single time.”

𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧ - 4:02 am

“Wait, what? She said that to you?” Felix asks, voice loud in disbelief as the hand that was combing through your hair stops momentarily.

You nod, looking up at him from where you’re resting your head, on his abs, the bare skin warm and soft under your touch. “Yes! I have receipts, hold on.”

As you scramble out of bed to get your phone from where it's charging, Felix can’t help but smile as his eyes are completely focused on you and nothing else. He always thought you were the most beautiful like this – bare-faced, with your hair slightly messy and missing that furrow between your brows that appeared during the day.

Vulnerable and oh-so cuddly during the late hours of the night, and early hours of the morning you sometimes spent with him, talking, kissing and laughing until the sun rose again to announce another new day.

When you came back to bed, Felix was resting with his back against the headboard and the position allowed him to pull you flush against his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as you showed him your phone. It was the domesticity he always craved for which he hoped would never end. That you and him like this never ended.

𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧ - 12:32 am

Taking another peek at the bedside clock, you can’t help but sigh as the red digits glare at you, almost mockingly. You’ve been in bed for hours now and you’re still as awake as you were back then too. It was infuriating, and you were this close to actually crying in frustration.

Almost as if sensing your low mood, Seungmin turns on his side to face you. “Everything okay?”

You shake your head and bury your head in the warm pillow. “I can’t sleep, Minnie. Will you sing to me, please?”

His arms come around you to bring your back to his chest, successfully luring you into being the little spoon, which to be honest, you didn’t mind one bit right now. He places a kiss on your cheek, and with one hand softly massaging your hip, he starts humming. Not a lullaby, but one of the group’s title tracks.

When you glare at him over your shoulder, he grins and stifles a chuckle before starting to sing a proper lullaby. Just as suspected – his dreamy voice does have magical powers and you’re asleep in less than five minutes. Or maybe it's the way he holds you so closely and the occasional kiss on the top of your head that does the trick. Either way, you have to let Felix know asap. He owes you 20$.

𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧ - 11:45 pm

“Blanket thief.” He complains, however, there’s no real malice in his tone as you roll around into a blanket burrito and leave him completely exposed to all the monsters that come out at night, laughing loudly.

You don’t see him, but he rolls his eyes, trying to appear annoyed as he hides his growing smile. “Come here, baby, let’s share.”

When you shake your head no, still giggling in your pillow, Jeongin takes matters into his own hands, literally, and lifts you up by the waist to trap you into his tight embrace, which causes you to shriek and laugh again. He soon joins in and your laughter fills the tiny room as you begin wrestling for the blanket.

“Come on, be reasonable, there’s enough blanket for the both of us.” “No.” “Y/n.” “But Jeongin, the monsters – “ ,“I’ll beat them up! Now, come here!”

Somehow, he manages to convince you to share and you fall asleep cuddling while watching youtube videos, with his soft voice whispering sweet nothings into your ear. But during the night, he still ends up uncovered and because he’s petty, he pretends to fall out of bed and says that the monsters got to him because of you and your selfish nature he can’t help but still love so much!

[cherryyluvs]

Hi just first wanted to say I love ur writing, it's so nice to read as if am really seeing it physically. Anyways I wanted to ask if you could write a starfire type reader where she first meets mark and how their relationship grows . Exploring his friends and parents reaction to her power , tamaranean background and personality. I know damn well cecil will be exhausted finding out there's another alien race with so much power . thank you again for ur work in the invincible fandom cause there's so few amazing writers. 😘😘

Ahhh thank you so much!! 🥹💖 That means the world to me!! I LOVE the idea of a Starfire-type reader I don’t know much of her but I tried my best (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) hope you enjoy!!

Mark first meets you under a.. Chaotic circumstance. An alien attack and he is already in mid-fight when you swoop in. Blasting through enemies, striking, and flipping with this effortless grace. Mark is immediately like Σ(°□°˶) !! So powerful, he can't take his eyes off of you. He's already impressed but also slightly intimidated. “Uh… who are you?” But you can't understand him yet, titling your head blinking in confusion. “You don't understand me, do you?”

Without hesitation you float towards him, placing your hands gently on his cheek and kissing him. Mark freezes. His eyes widened. You pull back, lips turning into a bright smile. “Ah! Now i understand”

“What just happened?”

“In my homeworld, Tamaran, lip contact is a simple custom to learn any language”

“simple..??” Mark is completely flustered while you're acting like kissing him was the most normal thing in the world.

He starts seeing you around more often, you being curious about Earth. Everything from human customs to food. Mark ends up becoming your unofficial guide. You’re fascinated by Earth’s food, the first time Mark takes you out for burgers, you literally hover out of your seat from excitement. “This is delicious! May I try yours?” and before he could answer you, steal a fry from his tray. Acting like fries are the greatest discovery of your life. (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ Mark becomes curious about Tamaranean culture and one day you got him to try something from your home plant – Zorkaberries. Presenting them to him proudly, a small bowl of deep purple berries in your hand, Mark would eye them suspiciously. He hesitated for a moment before picking one, and popping it in his mouth. The flavor being bittersweet “Whoa, this is really good?”

“Of course! They are Zorkaberries!!” giggling, floating closer and patting his back “do you wish for more?”

Tamaraneans are naturally affectionate so you're constantly touching mark. Holding his hand, brushing your fingers through his hair, and hugging him from behind. It's second nature to you. The more you two hang out and go on dates the more you start falling in love, he loves how blunt you are and have no problem telling Mark exactly how you feel — even if it flusters him.

When you first met his parents, Debbie and Nolan. You were extremely polite, immediately hugging her and complimenting her home. Offering to help with dinner which she is surprised but pleased by. During dinner time you speak of tales of your planet, your people, how you come from a warrior race and noble family. Nolan, on the other hand, is suspicious of you. He recognizes how powerful you are and the fact that you come from an alien race puts him on edge. His Viltrumite instincts are definitely twitching, wary of you but you remain cheerful and unbothered.

Cecil is immediately rubbing his temples because 2 Viltrumites is already bad enough – now there's Tamaranean on earth? Just what he needed, but deep down he knows you could be an invaluable ally , keeping a close eye on you to ensure you're not up to something.

As for mark friends ? William thinks you're super cool, saved him from a villain once and he won't stop yapping about how you carried him bridal style. Amber loves how sweet and down to earth you are, obsessed with helping you pick out earth clothes and doing ‘girl stuff’ together. Eve is immediately fascinated by you, she recognizes your power level and asks you about your planet and your culture. “So you guys can fly and absorb sunlight? That's insane”

“It is quite convenient!”

Bonus:

Afterward, Mark’s brain is still trying to catch up. Mark (to himself): “She’s a literal princess. And she kissed me. To learn my language. Okay.” (꜆꜄ᴗ͈﹏ᴗ͈)꜆꜄꜆

[versupital]

❀ halle berry.ᐟ❀

a glimpse into the mind of jjk men being feral over your perfect thighs <3

content: gn!reader (Choso, Geto), switch!choso, thigh fucking, cunnilingus (Gojo), afab!reader (Nanami, Gojo), sorcery!au (Gojo), exhibitionism (nanami), toys (geto), husband!nanami, established relationship, ¿unprotected?

word count. 3k

incl pairings: choso, gojo, geto, nanami

soundtrack 🪐📀: p*$$y fairy!

a/n: the title is because in the song halle berry he’s like going crazy over how fine his woman is and so i thought it fit LMFAOAO

🧚🏼‍♀️

Choso

Choso loves when you wear thigh-high socks.

You’d scored a light blue and white striped pair with C’s on them, just for your Cho baby. They slip and slide all down your legs as Choso fucks between them, fingers entangled in the material.

“Hngh - warm,” is all he manages to mumble as his slick cock slides through your thighs.

The two of you stand in front of the mirror, your hands behind you, holding onto his back as he strokes needily.

You watch as his fat, light-colored tip pokes through with each of his thrusts, his fingers now sliding up, and shoved deep into the light stretch marks on your hips. All you have on is the socks, your back arched painfully, and you moan as you watch him use you for his pleasure.

“Feels so good, huh, Cho?” you purr, sliding a hand behind your head to fist one of his pigtails.

“S-So good,” he mutters, his pace quickening. You can feel his cock rub against your aching heat with every stroke, slicking him up, making your thighs all wet and sticky.

Lewd suction noises pour into the room to mesh with Choso’s moans, your own praises cooing out in time with his thrusts.

Yes. Good boy. So good. Like that. Don’t stop.

Choso’s hands come up and desperately grip your chest, holding on tightly and applying pressure to your achingly hard nipples.

“F-fuck,” you whine, and Choso’s head falls onto your shoulder as you release his hair.

“C-Can I please put it in now?” he begs, teeth clamping down onto your skin, softly planting kisses there after.

“Mm, dunno,” you taunt, “don’t know if you deserve it.”

“B-But I’ve been good,” Choso whines out. His grip on your chest softens but he continues to roll his hips, sliding that cock in and out, and you feel yourself drip more as the tip travels over the sensitive underside of your heat.

You shudder against him, and when he speaks again his tone has shifted mildly.

“That’s right,” he coos. “Y-Y’know you wanna let me in, baby, please?”

Your hands find his thighs and dig your nails in. He lets out a filthy howl in your ear, which makes you moan in frustration.

“Fuck it,” you whisper, leaning forward and planting your hands on the mirror. “Fuck me, Cho. Need you.”

Choso gasps, as if he hadn’t intended for that to work, but nevertheless he wastes no time grabbing himself at the base and pressing his tip to your soppy hole.

“Th-Thank you,” he mumbles. “Love your thighs, but nothing feels as good as your insides, baby.”

You shake your head and part your legs to give him more access. “Hurry up before I keep you from cumming,” you snap.

“Y-Yes baby,” Choso chirps, and it isn’t long before the two of you have completely forgotten about the socks as they slide to your ankles, your mind going brainless as Choso punishes you right back.

Gojo

Gojo tries to pretend he doesn’t have an issue with you leaving the house in fishnets, but realistically, it always makes him irrationally jealous. Especially to go on missions, when he knows everyone will be in attendance.

Now, he knows he’s the strongest sorcerer and - the most attractive - and well, the best. He knows you’d be insane to leave him for anyone else. You wouldn’t.

But he also knows that when you look like that - the big gaps in the nets not hiding the perfect shape of your smooth thighs and a pleated blue skirt to compliment your uniform - that you’re nothing but blood in a sea of sharks.

Even Nanami, the respectable man that he is, sneaks a second look when you come by. And Gojo wants to wring his neck for it.

He’s forced to watch as you kiss Geto on the cheek and laugh at one of Higuruma’s, no doubt, unfunny jokes. He swipes a hand across his face. Thank God for his blindfold. No one can see the rage in his eyes.

It’s only about halfway through the day when he can’t stand it any longer. He sees you keep messing with them, twisting and adjusting them, and he drags his eyes to your little fingers, reminding him how they entangle themselves in his hair whenever he has his tongue buried in your hole.

He’s thinking about ripping a gaping hole in the tights and pushing your panties to the side, too desperate to worry about taking all of it off, and devouring you around the material.

You’d let out a surprised moan, like you always do at first contact. He’d blow cool air on your clit while two of his fingers pinch and massage your wet folds. You’d writhe, your thighs would clench over his ears like fleshy earmuffs. He’d have no choice but to lift his blindfold off of one eye, just to get a better look at your head fallen back, your top teeth clenching your bottom lip.

He’d continue to shred the fishnets as he entangled his long fingers in them for support. You’d whine that they were your favorite. He’d whisper that he’ll buy you a hundred new pairs, and you’d moan from his breathy words landing on your aching clit.

“Satoru,” your voice chokes him out of his fantasy.

He glances down at you through his cloth, though he knows you can’t tell. He clears his throat.

“Yes?” he croaks out.

“Did you hear me? We’re going to grab lunch,” you run a hand over his arm and he feels his muscles respobd to your touch. “Coming?”

Damn near, he almost says, but he instead smiles and pulls you into a side hug - making sure to glide his hand over your hip as you begin walking together.

You chirp against him and put a hand on his chest to balance yourself. “Mmh, did you know you have a little… situation?” you question innocently, and Satoru doesn’t even have to look down to know how rock solid he is in his pants.

“It’s your fault,” he grits back. “I keep telling you not to wear these.” He stops to flick the tights with his finger.

You giggle and drop your hand. “And I keep telling you that I’m gonna do it till you force me to stop.”

Gojo stops walking. The rest of the group is well ahead, good. They won’t notice the two of you falling behind.

“Do we really have to eat with them?” he asks.

“You read my mind,” you look up and stand on your toes to kiss him on the chin, to which he shivers. You, making the most powerful and supposedly composed sorcerer, shiver. “I’ve got your favorite snack already.”

Gojo glances up again to make sure the group is at least out of earshot, and without hesitance he’s gripping your hand and dragging you off towards the opposite direction.

“Fuck, this is why I love you,” he growls. “But seriously. This is your last time wearing these, okay?”

You nod your head innocently, though he knows good and well that you’re just playing along, and after he’s done ripping your current pair to shreds, the following week you’ll be right back in a new pair to tease him with.

Nanami

Nanami is a conservative man. He doesn’t show off much of his skin. Not that it’s really the same for men, but he certainly doesn’t mind when you do it.

His favorite kind is you, wearing a strapless number with a dangerously high slit in it, holding a tiny clutch with nothing but lip gloss inside because you have no reason to carry a wallet when you go out together.

But what gets him the most is your tall, knee-high heels with red on the bottom. They had been a Christmas gift from him, but it still amazes him how you’re able to balance yourself on them each time, without fail.

He orders you a driver, like always, so that the two of you can drink together without worrying about the commute home. He’s immediately pulling your leg over his lap after he joins you in the backseat.

He watches as the material of your dress falls back against the leather seat. The skin on your thighs have puffed out; he’s ogling them like a schoolboy. He catches a glimpse of your hip under the slit. He realizes with a jolt there’s no panty waistline.

You’ve left the house commando.

He tightens his grip on the material of your boot, trying to pry his eyes away, but all he can think about is how disgustingly easy you’ve made it for him to sit beside you at dinner and tip-toe his fingers into the slit of the dress and part your legs with his fingertips.

You’d oblige immediately, gasping as you look over at him and pretend you don’t want to do this in public.

But he would continue on, making small talk with the waitress and ordering wine as he begins to drag the fingertip over your clit that’s already throbbing achingly.

When the waitress leaves, he’d lean over and kiss you on the cheek, and you’d lean back against the seat and part your legs a bit to give him more access.

His eyes would catch another glimpse at the delicious shoes and momentarily falter as he wonders what they look like over his shoulders. He doesn’t have to wonder what you’d look like under him, getting stuffed and bent out of shape in your skimpy dress, because your face is already so flushed - your lips slightly parted as you try not to moan.

He blinks, and he’s suddenly back in the car, and his hand has mindlessly travelled to rest on your bare hip. You stare at him a bit confused, because he’s sitting and just staring blankly at you with his jaw clenched.

“Is everything okay?” you question.

He swallows and smiles reassuringly.

“Perfect, my love,” he nods. “Tell me, was wearing no underwear a last minute decision?”

He watches as you tap your chin, and then scoot your hips a bit closer to him, and now he knows you can feel his cock poking against your legs.

“Kind of,” you shrug. “Who needs them, you know?”

Nanami exhales. You little minx.

“You do, for my sake,” Nanami pinches a bit of the skin on your hip and you respond by gripping onto his tie. “I… am going to find it difficult to sit at dinner with this information.”

You giggle, a soft sound that sends more blood pumping through his cock. He thinks of the two of you in bed, when his dick accidentally slides out of you and you giggle at him while you grab the base and put it back in. Your face immediately twists from a smug crack of amusement to furrowed eyebrows and pleasure.

God, he’s so worked up.

“Driver,” he says suddenly, and he feels you raise an eyebrow at him. “Take us back home, please.”

Geto

You’ve never worn fancy underwear around Geto.

Your relationship started as a hookup a few years back, and whenever you saw each other, you were always drunk and just trying to claw to the bare skin underneath - hardly concerning yourselves with what kind of bra or underwear you had on.

As time has passed, you feel Geto deserves a surprise. You wonder what his reaction would be, to you maybe wearing something simple, like matching underwear and a pair of garters.

As soon as the order comes in, you’re putting it on. They are tight and dig into your skin, but you hope it’s going to be worth it.

You’re wearing the look underneath a big shirt and pajama pants, your typical attire for bed. Geto is in the bathroom, massaging oils into his hair and slicking it back.

You lean against the doorway, “You act like you’re going to run into the president in your dreams.”

Geto turns to you and grins, dropping his hands from the wet locks. “I have a reputation to uphold as the guy with flawless hair, alright?”

You roll your eyes. “To whom? Satoru?” You begin to make kissy noises. “And they’re both boys, mwah, mwah, mwah…”

“Oh hush,” Geto swats at you before washing his hands. Then, he walks a few steps over and plants a kiss on your head before sliding his hands up your sides and under the big shirt.

You watch as his brain registers what’s going on. His hands halt over the leather material of your garter belt, before he rips the shirt up to your chest and examines what’s going on underneath.

“Hello?” he says, cocking his head to the side. “Where did this come from, baby?”

You pull his hands off of the shirt and let the material fall back down. “No, go back to your hair. Don’t worry about it.”

You turn to walk away brattily, but he’s already gripping your wrist and tugging you back into the bathroom with him. Now, he’s got your back against the shower door, and you gasp.

“Don’t play,” Geto threatens, bringing his hands to the waistband of your pants this time. “Never seen you wear anything like this. Wonder what you’ve got on the bottom half?”

You don’t stop him as he bends towards the floor and brings your pants down with him. His pupils go black as he registers the leather panties that are underneath the thin belt that connects the garters.

Geto is visibly taken aback. He swallows thickly, and then he’s forcing you to step out of your pants and your thighs are being lifted into the air.

“Geto, wait!” you screech, falling back onto the glass as he rises to a standing position with his eyes still fixed on your legs.

“No, no,” he taunts. “None of that, angel. You’ve been holding out on me.” He tucks his finger under a piece of the leather and releases it with a stinging snap.

Your hands are desperately holding onto his shoulders for balance as Geto hikes your shirt back up to examine the full set in its glory.

“Your thighs are so thick, they’re about to pop right out, baby,” his hands snatch the material which causes your hips to slide to the edge of the counter. “Don’t you want me to release some of that tension?”

You groan as your eyes flutter. “I just wanted to see your reaction,” you admit. “I didn’t expect it to be th-th- oh!”

He’s using the shower wall to hold you up around his waist, because his thumb is already massaging your bundle of nerves through the leather, while his cock presses against your inner thigh. His free hand keeps your shirt up, staring over your torso like it’s his last meal.

“Well, what did you expect to happen, baby?” Geto scolds. “You know your thighs are my fucking weakness.” He grunts and tugs on the garters again. It stings, but it’s so good. “Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this, fu-uck.”

The leather’s tough, but Geto is tougher. He pulls your panties over, but he does it so harshly that the material shreds and falls over your leg. He doesn’t care, he’s still staring at your thighs, how they’re eating up the thin garters.

Your squishy skin feels so good around his waist, and he holds onto you as he dips his head into the crook of your neck.

You smell perfect, you feel perfect. He wants to take you into the bedroom and toss you on the bed.

He would die to see your thighs parted, a thick toy flushing in and out of you as you stare up at him with pleasure all over your face. He’d hold your legs apart by force, no matter how you tried to close them, and keep pushing it inside of you. Good girls deserve real cock, but since you wanted to tease him, you get rubber.

“G-Geto, please, I can’t take another,” you’d breathe, approaching your third orgasm already. He always recognizes it in your breath pattern, the way your moans pitch themselves up.

“Sorry, I wish I cared,” he’d purr, quickening his wrist to fuck the cum out of you that much sooner.

“Fuck,” he mumbles in real time, realizing he’d zoned out as his finger mindlessly plays with your clit. You’re already cumming under him, and he takes a deep breath as he feels your thighs shudder over his hips.

“Oh, Geto,” you moan, and he realizes how pussywhipped he really is.

And just how badly he needs to get you more garters, ASAP!

A/N:

just realized i need a whole fic of jjk men denying reader the privilege of his c*ck while he uses toys on them… oh boy.

ily guys for your support as always!!! wow i almost reached 500 followers this is so overwhelming <33 ty guys for your patience and kind words and muse when you see this bby, know you truly keep me motivated ^.^

~ pennjammin

[satellite-evans]

farmers market

Pairing: Harry Styles x pregnant!reader

Summary: Harry takes his pregnant girlfriend to the farmers market :)

Word count: 1k+

Warnings: fluff

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Saturday mornings had become your favorite part of the week, especially now that you were six months pregnant. There was something about the air in the fall that made everything feel crisp, fresh, and alive. You breathed it in deeply as you and Harry approached the farmer’s market entrance, the golden sunlight filtering through the trees and creating a beautiful radiance on everything. The sounds of the bustling crowd, the chatter of vendors, and the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze all added to the charm. For you, this was the perfect way to spend the morning—slowly strolling through the stalls, picking out fresh produce, and taking in the delicious aromas that surrounded you.

Harry, on the other hand, loved watching you. There was a joy in your eyes every time you came across something that caught your attention—whether it was a basket of perfectly ripe peaches or a bouquet of wildflowers. He found himself smiling more, simply watching you enjoy the little things. Though his schedule was often packed with work, he didn’t mind these outings. In fact, he insisted on them.

"I can't believe you actually woke up early for this," you teased, nudging him playfully with your shoulder as the two of you made your way through the market entrance.

Harry adjusted his sunglasses, his hand still wrapped around yours. He squeezed it gently before responding, "Hey, I have my priorities straight. You, our little one, and fresh strawberries."

You grinned at him. "I knew you were just here for the food."

"And the company," he corrected, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. He lingered for a moment, his fingers brushing your skin. "You sure you're up for this? We could’ve just ordered everything online."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. "Harry, I’m pregnant, not fragile. I’m not going to break. Besides, I want to pick things out myself. You know how picky I get when it comes to cravings."

He chuckled, his hand gently resting on the small of your back, guiding you as you walked. "Yeah, I remember. The great pickle debacle of last month."

You groaned, covering your face with your hand in embarrassment. "Don’t remind me. I still feel bad for that poor store clerk."

"He survived," Harry teased, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face as you reached the first stall. "And now we have a whole shelf stocked with pickles at home. We're prepared for the next craving, love."

As you approached the stall, a burst of color filled your vision. Strawberries. Plump and bright, their sweetness practically radiated from the basket. You couldn’t help yourself. A soft gasp left your lips as you reached for a carton. "Oh my gosh, look at these strawberries! I need them."

The vendor, an older man with a wide grin and a straw hat, chuckled at your enthusiasm. "Good choice, dear. These are the sweetest berries you’ll find this season, grown just down the road."

Harry smiled at the vendor, then at you. "Perfect. We’ll take a few cartons, please."

The man winked at you as he handed over the strawberries. "Craving strawberries, huh? Must mean you’re having a sweet little one."

You laughed, resting your hand on your bump. "Seems like it."

Harry watched you carefully, his hand brushing yours as you inspected the fruit, a soft chuckle escaping him. "You know, love, if you keep eating them like this, our little one is going to come out looking like a strawberry."

You raised an eyebrow at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "Should be no problem for you, since you only sing about fruit and... other things."

Harry’s face broke into laughter, shaking his head as he squeezed your hand a little tighter. "Alright, fair point. Guess we’re a perfect match then."

As you both moved down the market path, you spotted a stall selling honey, its glass jars glistening in the sunlight. Your eyes lit up, and without missing a beat, you tugged Harry toward it. "Ooh, fresh honey!"

The elderly woman behind the stand greeted you with a warm smile. "Well hello, dear! Looking for something sweet today?"

Harry wrapped his arm around you protectively, as if to shield you from the bustling crowd around you. He glanced down at you, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. "She’s been craving everything sweet since she got pregnant," he said, his voice soft, his gaze lingering on you.

The vendor’s smile widened. "Ah, a little one on the way! Congratulations, dear. I’ve got just the thing for you—this wildflower honey. It’s perfect with tea or drizzled over yogurt."

You took one of the jars into your hands, turning it over in your palms as you inspected it. "We’ll take two jars, please," you said with a smile. You could already imagine the honey paired with some of the fruit you had bought.

Harry leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, "At this rate, we’ll have an entire pantry of honey, jams, and fruit."

You nudged him with your elbow, a playful glint in your eyes. "Says the guy who could probably live off protein shakes and fruit."

He grinned down at you, leaning his head against yours for a brief moment. "Hey, fruit’s good for you. And clearly, our little one agrees."

As the two of you continued down the market lane, Harry remained ever the protector, placing a hand gently on your lower back whenever the crowd got too dense or people brushed by too closely. He made sure to stay close, watching you like a hawk as you darted from one stall to another, carefully selecting items that would satisfy your cravings. His protective nature seemed to grow stronger with each passing day, and you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of love in your chest every time he touched you.

You stopped in front of a stall selling freshly baked bread. You picked up a warm loaf, its crust golden and inviting, and breathed in deeply. "Look at this bread, H!" you said, holding it up to him. "It smells amazing."

The baker, a jovial man with flour-dusted hands, beamed at you. "Fresh from the oven this morning, love. It’s a market favorite!"

Harry inhaled the rich aroma of the bread and nodded. "Alright, we’ll take two. One for you, and one for the baby."

You giggled, shaking your head at him. "You’re going to use the baby excuse for everything now, aren’t you?"

He shot you a mischievous grin. "Absolutely."

Next, you came across a stand selling handmade baby clothes. Harry’s eyes softened the moment he saw a tiny knitted sweater. His hand lingered over the soft material before he held it up to you, his voice barely above a whisper. "Look at this. Think our little one would like it?"

An elderly woman behind the stand smiled warmly at the two of you. "Oh, that one’s made from the softest wool, dear. Perfect for a little bundle of joy."

You felt your heart swell in your chest as you looked at Harry. Your voice wavered slightly. "I think they’d look adorable in it."

Harry’s fingers gently traced the top of your arm, sending a warm shiver through you. "We’re really doing this, huh?" His gaze softened as he brushed his thumb across the back of your hand. "Baby, family, all of it."

You smiled, your heart full of emotion. Resting your hand over his, you looked up at him with a soft, affectionate smile. "Yeah, we are."

As the morning wore on, your bags filled with fresh produce, honey, flowers, and baby clothes, Harry remained a constant presence at your side, his protectiveness never wavering. He kissed your forehead whenever you stopped to look at something, always keeping a careful eye on you as the crowds grew thicker.

You were about to make your way to the car when Harry glanced at the overflowing bags in his hands, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "Think we went a little overboard?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "No such thing when it comes to fresh fruit."

He raised an eyebrow at you. "You and your fruit obsession. I’m telling you, if this baby’s first word is 'peach,' I’m blaming you."

You shot back with a laugh. "Alright, but if their first word is 'kiwi,' or ‘watermelon’ or ‘cherry’ then I’m blaming you!"

Harry pulled you closer, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. "Alright, love. Truce. Let's go home and make something delicious with all this."

And as the two of you walked back to the car, the morning sun warm on your skin, you knew that these were the moments that would stay with you forever—simple, quiet, full of love and anticipation.

[soobnny]

dating him | bang chan

❝ have i told you how beautiful you look this morning? ❞

CHAN | lee know | changbin | hyunjin | han | felix | seungmin | jeongin

chan as ur bf wow congratulations

it’s giving strangers to lovers if i’m being fr

u just meet on a random tuesday like nothing out of the ordinary

conversation is made and for SOME reason, chan always feels the cogs in his head stop turning when he’s talking to u

like it feels like he’s constantly on the run all the time so how come with u it’s so different

what did u do to him

well wtvr long story short, he FELL

fell hard

now he’s ur bf

ok hear me out

perk #1: unlimited supply of his hoodies

he’d love it too .. when u wear his hoodie

doesn’t even try to act upset or bothered that u’re stealing his clothes

sometimes he’s the one to even put it on ur bed so u can wear it after u shower

or when u’re coming home from the dorm and when u open ur bag .. oh! his hoodie!

“ah, i must’ve misplaced it 😅😅😅”

yeaaaaaaaaah sure

sure u misplace the hoodie in ur very pink bag instead of his black bag

u’re not very slick christopher bang

u don’t mind tho

his hoodies are always xxxxl in size and it smells like him

perk #2: u have ur own man wife

that man knows how to do everything

he can fix ur sink, build u a table, put oil on ur doorknobs so they don’t harden, can clean, like what can’t he do

have u seen hometown cha cha cha? he’s giving very Chief Hong in his skills

(minho does too but we’ll talk about him in his post)

oh, did i mention he can cook too

one of his favorite little mini dates is when u just go thru cookbooks together

and then … cook

i’m sorry this man is a sucker for domestic things like this

and cooking together means u also grocery shop together

a fun challenge he made up is where u pick up random ingredients and try to make something decent out of it

maaaaaan he’s just giving husband

anyways back to cooking

imagine him in the kitchen right

and he’s tasting something new he made

ofc u’re curious too cos wow whatever the hell he’s making smells and looks good

when you try to ask him if you can taste it, he’d KISS you

“how do you like it? 😏😏😏”

😳😳😳😳

he’s getting bold

he does strike me as shy at first in relationships

and then when u’re together for long, u’re like damn this man kinda freaky

perk #3: his dog

berry loves u

like sometimes even more than chan

(it’s bc u give her extra treats when u can)

u walk his dog together early in the morning

it’s kind of become routine

u’d just get out of bed with messy hair and still in ur pajamas while chan is perfectly ready bc he loves waking up early when he can

u don’t even care that u look like a mess

bc chan always reminds u how beautiful u are every morning

so … messy hair and pajamas … putting the leash on berry and walking outside

it’d just be quiet mostly on the walk

there’s no need for conversation with chan sometimes

chan would say he finally knows what peace means after meeting u

his favorite scene ever is coming home and finding u asleep on the couch with berry

he has a million pictures of that on ur phone

like different days, same scene

sets it as his lockscreen even

on nights u can spend together, u enjoy watching cringy christmas movies w him

cue recreating the scenes

except it’s a massive failure bc both of u just can’t stop laughing

u especially love those christmas movies one

“I DONT HAVE A TWIN WE CANT RECREATE THE PRINCESS SWITCH”

u end up just falling asleep together

ofc not without cuddling and intimate kisses

chan finds he sleeps easier bc of u

he used to always find it so difficult to fall asleep before

so how come it’s as easy as closing his eyes now

btw u two most probably have promise rings

and he most probably wears it as a necklace

and he loves hugging u from behind

chan loves being able to nuzzle his cheek on ur back and hold u

he’d probably do that thing where u’re unaware and then BAM a pair of arms around ur waist

his chin on ur shoulder

oh Wow….. wow i just made myself crazy thinking about that

he’d lean in to kiss ur neck or ur chin bc it’s closest access

and he’d just look at whatever the hell u’re doing

chan loves looking at u

does that sound creepy

he just loves observing u ok !!!!!!

esp when u’re doing something u love

his heart goes 💗💞💕💕💝💘💖💞💓💓

bc that’s his baby

he just adores u tbh

u could just be standing there and chan’s looking at u with heart eyes

anyways whatever CONGRATULATIONS

u guys will probably last forever bc he’s whipped and so in love

he’s giving me the More In Love vibe

like when he falls, he FALLS

happy 4 u

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

[00angelyoon]

- ᡣ𐭩 his favourite girl

you were his favourite girl, baking him a cake so pretty and all

starring: Husband Mingyu x curly-haired female reader

synopsis: you had decided to wear his favourite dress of yours a maxi dress that loosely hugged the curve of your waist with flower embroidery that had a cleavage just how he likes it, wearing your pretty curls naturally just how he likes it, he could see your white lacy bra strap with bows (his favourite lingerie set) just how he likes it and you did your makeup just how he likes it.

tags: smut, fluff, female anatomy, reader wears makeup, dresses, female pronouns and just very feminine presenting, oral and penetrative sex (female receiving), pet names (favourite girl, sweet girl, my pretty, honey, good girl, sweet and mingu), slight degradation (my pretty little whore), mentions of food, intentional lowercase.

notes: sorry for my in-activity, i literally had a dream about this, i had to pick which seventeen member i had to do mingyu because like me and him have the same birthday. (but reader and him don’t) also i meant for it to come out on his birthday but i had my own party and celebrations (actually im full of shit i just had a massive motivation drop and a severe case of writers block)

you had heard the turn of mingyu’s key against the apartment lock, you had turned of all the lights in the flat, the only light was the candles on the cake that you baked for your husband. you had made sure to make this birthday perfect, you had made a cake of his favourite flavour vanilla (eventhough he’s anything but that), wrote a really sweet card and had prepared his favourite food and movie in the living room.

“angel i’m home” you were hiding underneath the kitchen island but it still gave you a hidden view of mingyu who was looking around confused seemingly searching for you, he flicked on the corridor light switch, “angel where are you?” you waited until he was walking to your bedroom to stand up still hearing his confused calls for you, “happy birthday to you.” you started to sing, his adorable puppy smile illuminating his handsome face “oh sweet girl, you didn’t have to do this, did you bake this?” you slowly nodded your head, he clapped his hand with his fanged grin “happy birthday dear mingyu, happy birthday to you,” you push the cake closer to his face “come on birthday boy make a wish.” he leaned his neck closer to the cake and blew his 27 shaped candles out and quietly muttered something to himself.

you slowly set the cake on the dinner table and handed mingyu the card you had handwritten for him, he scanned the card with an adoring smile and nothing but love harbouring in his eyes. he placed the card next to the cake and glanced at your excited figure then he pulled you into his arms and looked down at your pretty face then he quickly pecked your soft berry coloured lipstick lathered lips but after the happiness waned he looked down at you and lust started to grow.

he was slowly growing hard, you had decided to wear his favourite dress of yours a maxi dress that loosely hugged the curve of your waist with flower embroidery that had a cleavage just how he likes it, wearing your pretty curls naturally just how he likes it, he could see your white lacy bra strap with bows (his favourite lingerie set) just how he likes it and you did your makeup just how he likes it.

while he was still in his horny daze you had grabbed by his wrist and guided him to the living room and showed him your little buffet he was oddly not devouring the food like he would usually do but he still praised you immensely. you both settled on the couch and started watching the movie.

in the middle of the movie your sweet husband started pecking up your neck and chin, you moaned “m’mingu” meanwhile he softly sucked on your ear-lobe “mm my pretty, couldn’t keep my hands off of you yeah, my favourite girl baking me a cake so pretty and all,” mingyu slipped your dress off and exposed your soft skin, to the cold breeze.

you had let out a sharp gasp as you were getting used to the cold ‘so pretty, my wife’ his mouth wandered to your cleavage kissing up your chest, thats when he undoes your bra clasp, revealing the flesh of your pretty tits, he sucked on your right nipple sloppily while pinching and fondling your left breast, moving back and forth never leaving one unattended.

‘aahh fuck’ mingyu had now begun moving towards your soaking wet sex. he slowly removes your laced panties, leaving you completely bare. ‘my sweet girl, always so good for me’ he praised in-between your plush thighs, you moaned wantonly when his tongue licked up your walls.

“dear fucking god mingyu’ you barley mustered up, arching your back off the sofa. you grabbed onto his hair steering his head towards your clit, “fucking love how you taste” mingyu groaned the vibrations only edging you on.

you looked down to see your husband furrowing his eyebrows seemingly devoted to making you cum, you began whimpering, only for your husband to quicken his pace ravishing you.

you start to feel a knot in your stomach coming undone, before you could warn your lover, you reach your point of ecstasy. mingyu is helping you riding out your high by sucking on your sensitive nub.

your husband moaned as he made a show for you sucking his fingers, then he brought his thumb to your mouth “suck my pretty” you licked up his thumb sucking it clean, “good girl”.

“mingu, need you” you murmured, “need me, im right here sweet” mingyu chuckled “you know what i mean” you complained “no i dont angel, im gonna need you to be more specific” “dear god mingyu, i need you to fuck me” you wanted to slap that cocky smile off his face “see angel that was all you had to say”.

mingyu began lining his fully hard cock to your cunt “you okay sweet” you love how caring and loving your husband is its one of the reasons you fell in love with him but now wasnt the time “minguuu” you lightly slapped his bicep to encourage him, your husband chuckled “ i was just checking in” thats when he began to push into your cunt.

he let out the most guttural moan “fucksake” he threw his head back. eventhough you guys have been married for 2 years now, he still cant believe that he was the one you blessed with the privilege of pleasuring you every single night and to see you in the writhes of pleasure every night still never fails to amaze him.

you began to beg him to move, clenching around him “angel if you keep on clenching around me like that ill finish embarrassingly early” after that mingyu slowly moved out of you and pushed back into you slowly building a rhythm.

you moaned loudly, and mingyu swore he almost cummed. your lover lowered his head to your neck sucking on it creating pretty little marks then he lowered his mouth to your tits creating more marks. “uhh faster faster please” mingyu grabbed your hips then he pushed faster into you, “love you so much, my pretty little whore begging for my cock” mingyu praised “ my pretty little whore” mingyu emphasised while slowly flicking up your sensitive clit, “say it” you furrowed your brows “say your my pretty little whore” mingyu was glaring into your eyes, his eyes hooded with lust and adoration “ im your pretty little whore, only yours” mingyu groaned quickening his pace “ im close minguu” “yeah, im close too sweet” mingyu lowered his head to kiss you and you swore it was like a taste of heaven. you grabbed his shoulder to oush him back onto your chest and moved your hands to his neck, kissing him with a different type of fervour and that familiar feeling in your lower abdomen.

you started to roll your hips while making out with mingyu, who had begun to pull out of your mouth to breathe leaving a sloppy mess. you repeated your lovers name like it was the only thing you knew.

“come for me angel, cream on my cock” and that was the straw that broke the camels back, in a slurry of profanity and ‘mingyus’ your husband filled you up with his babies. mingyu helped the both of you ride out your highs. afterwards mingyu cockwarmed you for a few minutes then mingyu picked you up leaving the sticky mess and brought you to the shower while you both giggled.

—————————————————————————

sorry for the inactivity pookies :)

[nicole-lynne]

I Won't Say I'm in Love

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Era: Prison Era Details: Inspired by I Won't Say I'm In Love from Hercules soundtrack (This is my first Daryl fic so be gentle sweet reader haha)

You stared at the small cloth bag filled with strawberries that had appeared on the tiny stand you used as a shelf in your cell. It hadn’t been there this morning when you left to help Carl in the garden, but there it sat - a pile of juicy, red strawberries that made your mouth water in anticipation. And you had no doubt of where they had come from. The modest archer that had become a solid fixture in your life in the last year. 

Slowly, you moved across the small space and reached out, your fingers gently tracing over the berries. It had been longer than you could remember since you’d had them. You’d mentioned to  Daryl how much you used to love them the last time you’d been on watch with him, when he’d let you yap as long as you wanted and he hadn’t acted annoyed once. You’d spent so many watch shifts with him, yet it still amazed you every time he proved that he’d been listening to you - regardless of his quiet nature. Those watch shifts had turned into shared meals, supply runs, and subconsciously looking for him any time you entered a room. Heat rose to your cheeks at the thought that he’d gone out of his way to do this sweet gesture for you. 

Before you could stop it, a dazed smile started to grow on your face, the image of Daryl’s hesitant smile and curious eyes clouding your mind. Something that you loathe to admit was happening more and more often. 

Carol’s head peeked around the edge of your cell, a knowing smile playing at the edges of her mouth. “Penny for your thoughts?” 

You startled at her voice and whipped your head around to the woman, your thoughts jumbled at the intrusion. “H-huh?” You stammered dumbly. 

“I said, penny for your thoughts? Although, I’m pretty sure I don’t need to spend the money.” She smirked, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. 

Rolling your eyes, you turned back around to sit on your bunk, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. You sure you’re not dehydrated from being out in the sun too long?” 

“Oh, I’m not dehydrated. But I do know a lovestruck look when I see one.” 

Heat rose to your cheeks but you lifted your chin defiantly. “I am not lovestruck. I’m not the kind of girl to get lovestruck. There’s nothing special about him picking me up something on the run.” 

A sly grin spread across her face, “I never said who I was talking about. Do you happen to have a certain man in mind? Possibly one who drives a motorcycle and carries a crossbow? The one I saw sneaking out of here a few minutes ago?” 

Pursing your lips slightly, you wanted to growl in frustration. You hadn’t meant to slip up like that. You hadn’t meant to even have a clue who she was talking about. You weren’t looking for love in this apocalyptic crapstorm of a world. You hadn’t even been looking for love before the demise of normalcy. Been there, done that, have the scars to remember and the memories to be haunted by. 

“Honey, it’s alright to admit that you’ve started to care about someone. Daryl is a good man and you deserve some good in your life.” Carol sat next to you and grabbed your hand, holding tight when you tried to pull away. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other when you think the other isn’t looking.”

“And how do we look at each other?” You asked through gritted teeth.

“You look at him like he’s the earth and heaven. Like he hung the moon for you.” 

You scoffed and looked away. “That’s not even remotely true.” 

“It is true. And I’ve seen how much you’ve changed Daryl too. He is more open to you, he trusts you. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him smile as much as he does when you walk in a room.” Her voice was soft but it felt like it echoed in the cell. Suddenly you were all too aware of the busy prison around you and that anyone could overhear this discussion. Beth and Maggie had commented on conversations you’d thought were private one too many times in the past. 

With a jolt, you stood abruptly and looked down at her, hardening your glare. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This isn’t some teenage girl romance movie where everyone falls in love and has some cliche happy ending. This is the real world where the people we know can die any day. No one, no man, is worth that aggravation.” 

Carol stood up, an annoyingly understanding look on her face, and wrapped you into a hug. You let yourself melt for a moment into her motherly touch. You weren’t blind to how hard it was for her to let anyone in, the same as you, and you weren’t going to just forget that. 

She patted your back once and broke away. “Well, I’ll let you rest before dinner,” she hesitated then said, “the last thing I’ll say is, don’t let yourself deny happiness just because of the past. You’re right that we only get so much time in this world, but it’s better to spend that time happy than miserable.” 

Before you could utter another word, she disappeared past the flower sheet you had hung for the illusion of privacy. The one that Daryl had brought back for you a couple months ago after you’d told him you loved wildflowers. 

~~~~

You watched the sun dip below the treeline, letting the soft breeze kiss your skin as you enjoyed the last few remnants of summer. The muted growl of the walkers in the distance mixed with the clucks of the chickens and the grunts of the pigs, lulling you into a serene sense of calm. The days were warm but the nights were getting chillier and soon everyone in the prison would be in full preparation for the rough winter. Who knew what the walkers would be like this year when you were safely behind the tall gates instead of running from house to house, foraging for tiny rodents to eat to survive. 

A clang of a tray hitting the wooden picnic table pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked over to see Daryl swinging his leg over to straddle the bench, an apprehensive smile on his face. At the sight of him, a grin broke free before you could stop it. 

“Di’nt see ya at dinner. It was yer favorite - venison. Had to fight the boys off to grab ya a plate.” 

You snorted at that. “It’s only my favorite because it’s the most normal thing we can get around here nowadays, but thanks.” 

“Was prob’ly the weirdest thing ya ever ate before...all this.” He countered. 

“Don’t be too sure!” He gave you a skeptical look at that, “I had alligator meat on a girls trip to New Orleans one time and it was pretty good. Think you could find me an alligator?” You teased, knocking his knee with yours. 

“Ya might hafta give me a day or two, see what I could do.” He patted your knee in return, ducking his head to hide his smile, his hand lingering for a moment. At his touch, a tingle ran through you like a shiver and you wrapped your arms around yourself, doing everything you could do to hold yourself together. “Ya cold?” 

Quicker than you could respond, he was peeling his jacket off and wrapping it around your shoulders, exposing his delicious muscles to the night air. On instinct, you slipped your arms through the sleeves and casually sniffed it. His unique scent of cigarette smoke, musk, and a faint trace of cologne from another life overwhelmed your senses and you shivered again, despite the warmth of safety and adoration that was sinking into your bones. Your eyes darted up to see if he’d noticed and connected with his, a blush blooming across yours and his cheeks. 

Breaking his eye contact, you looked back out to the dusky sky. How could you be letting these feelings creep back over you, after all the shit you’d escaped from, everything you’d promised yourself not to feel again. If you let him in, even as skilled as he was, he could be gone in the blink of an eye and you would be left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart alone. But it was so hard to remember that fact when he was so close to you and looking at you with those gorgeous blue eyes of his. It always felt so good when it was starting out. 

“I - uh - thank you for the strawberries. I don’t know how you managed to find the time to get them with the other things you had to get. I don’t know if I thought I’d ever eat strawberries again.” You said finally, breaking the easy silence. 

“Ah it’s easy if ya know where ta look, wasn’t a big deal.” He shrugged. 

“It’s a big deal to me, Dar. More than you’ll ever know. I appreciate everything you do for me.” You said quietly. He glanced back over at you and shifted a bit closer, his thick thighs brushing against you. Now his eyes were locked on yours with intensity. All it would take was the littlest move and you could press your lips against his. Maybe he would pull you close, maybe you could lose yourself in the idea of a future filled with a grumbly, kind man who made peace bloom in your soul. You were just a few breaths apart.

The sound of laughter broke the stillness of the courtyard and you both jumped apart, clearing your throats simultaneously. You looked up to watch Maggie and Glenn giggling to each other as they strolled hand-in-hand up the path from the bottom gate and into the prison, spears in tow and blood covered their fronts but somehow they were still clearly enjoying their alone time together. You envied their innocent love, never knowing the sting of betrayal. 

After an awkward five minutes of avoiding looking at him, you cleared your throat again.

“Uh, it’s getting late, I should probably try to get some sleep. I promised Carl and Patrick that I’d let them practice their new fighting moves on me tomorrow.” You shimmied your way off the bench and stood awkwardly. Daryl slowly moved to stand, still straddling the bench, watching you with a guarded expression. 

“Don’t forget yer dinner, don’t wanna waste good meat.” He lifted the forgotten tray up to you. 

“Thanks.” You reached for the tray, stopping as the sleeve of his jacket caught your eye. “Oh, here, your jacket-” 

Daryl waved you off, “keep it. Looks better on ya.” 

Giving him a tight smile, you turned on a heel and hightailed it out of the yard toward the cell block bathrooms. An imperative cold shower needed to clear your mind. 

You rounded the corner and bumped into Maggie coming out of the showers, both of you gripping elbows to stop from falling. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” You mumbled.

A cheshire cat grin curled along Maggie’s face, “head in the clouds huh? It looked like you were having a pleasant conversation with Daryl. I didn’t figure we’d see ya before the crickets went to sleep.” 

“The crickets went - what? No, we were just having a normal conversation, like two friends.” 

“I didn’t realize friends talk with their mouths inches apart.” Maggie snickered. “Or jump apart like that when they get interrupted.” 

“It- We- Nothing happened.” You bit out defensively, crossing your arms as if you could shield out all her words. 

Maggie’s eyes widened slightly, reaching out to touch your arm. “Hey, I’m sorry. I was just teasing a bit, we’re all grown ups here. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying your time with Daryl. You don’t have to hide it from me. I’m your friend, you know that right?” 

You released a bit of the tension in your shoulders and sighed. “Yeah of course I know that, Mags. It’s not you, just, Carol got in my head earlier saying that I was in lov-ya know what, it’s not important, it’s not true anyways. We’re just friends, nothing else.” 

You sidestepped her and headed into the bathroom, stopping at a tug on your wrist. Maggie gave you a soft smile, “Daryl wouldn’t be a bad guy to fall for... If you give it a chance.” 

“I’m not interested in something like that, Maggie.” Tugging out of her grasp, you slipped into the closest shower and turned on the water before she could say anything else.

The water soaked into your clothes as you backed up against the concrete and slid down the wall, banging your head a couple times in frustration. What was with everyone today, bringing up things that were none of their business. Emotions you’d prefer to stay locked inside. But now it was threatening to break free from the carefully built cage you’d made and you found yourself longing to seek out Daryl and beg him to show you everything you’d been missing by holding him at arm’s length. Beg him to wrap those strong arms around you and promise that you’d both be safe and happy for the rest of your days. 

No. You weren’t gonna let yourself go down that path any more today. This was something to face in the light of day.

With a strength you didn’t know you possessed, you stood up, trudged back to your cell, peeled the sopping wet clothes off and crawled into your tiny bunk. You’d figure things out in the morning. 

~~~~~ 

The next day, with a gritted determination to figure this entire situation out, you paced nervously outside the watchtower waiting for Daryl to show up. It was surprisingly empty in the yard still at this hour of morning. After fifteen minutes of waiting, Michonne appeared, heading toward you. 

“Hey, have you seen Daryl? I thought he had first shift this morning?” You asked, shoving your hands in the pockets of your jacket - his jacket - to hide the shaking. You hadn’t been able to leave the cell without it this morning. 

Michonne’s brow furrowed, “uh he left early this morning. Told Rick and I that he wanted to go on a run, said he needed to get out of the prison for a few days. I told him I’d cover his shift for him.” 

Your lips parted in surprise but you nodded, mumbling a thanks as you walked away. 

He’d left. He’d left and hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye. He hadn’t done that since the early days on the farm, before everything with the barn and the walkers happened. And now there was a chance you might never see him again. There was always a risk and he’d gambled on that. 

A lump formed in your throat but you pushed it down. You would not cry over him. You would not let your feelings be hurt. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Three days passed and there had been no sign of him. All of your friends had given you sympathetic smiles when they’d made eye contact with you - which had pissed you off even more. What the hell did they have to feel sorry about? It was him they should be worried about. What if he’d been caught by a group and needed help? What if he was dead? Why weren’t you good enough for a goodbye? You thought over every interaction you’d had with him - searching for signs that you made up any of his feelings for you. You’d found yourself wandering around the hallways at night, thoughts racing through your head a million miles a minute, sleep was an intangible thing. 

And there you were again, pacing back and forth along the wall. 

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Turn. Repeat. 

“The hell are ya doin’?” A gruff voice echoed in the silence.

You whirled to find Daryl watching you from the doorway, his crossbow dangling from his left hand and his pack hanging off his shoulder. His messy hair was damp like he’d stopped off at the showers on his way in. 

In three fast steps, you’d closed the distance between you two and shoved him hard into the wall and he let out a soft grunt at the impact. His backpack dropped to the ground with a loud thud that reverberated against the walls. 

“How could you just leave me like that?!” You shrieked, smacking his chest to emphasize every word. In a flash, his crossbow clattered on the floor and he gripped your shoulders to stop you from hitting him again. The stubborn tears you’d held in for the last three days started streaming down your face and struggled to pull out of his grip. “Why would you do that to me?! You could have died and I would never even know what happened to you! You know what that would do to me!” 

“Nah I wouldn’t.” He snapped, anger lacing his voice, slightly pushing you away from him. 

You reeled back at the harsh tone, the words stinging like you’d psychically been slapped. With a sharp nod of your head, you took another step back and turned, ready to tuck your tail and run back to your cell. If that’s how he wanted to be, then you didn’t want to be around him.

“I heard what ya said ta Maggie. That ya ain’t interested in me. I followed ya the other night because ya forgot your dinner.” You froze in place, wincing at the realization of what he was talking about. He let out a heavy sigh then said, “it’s fine, if that’s what ya want. I ain’t gonna pressure ya. I just needed to clear my head first.” 

“Daryl-” You started to say, turning back to face him.

“I’m not mad, I get that ya don’t feel that way for me.” He scratched his head awkwardly, the tangles in his hair pulling on his fingers, something he did when he was nervous. You desperately wanted to grab his hand and steady him. “Ya don’t have to feel bad, really.” 

“I do-”

“Ya really don’t-”

“I do feel that way for you. I lied - to Maggie.” Your voice was shaky. He raised his head to look at you, squinting his eyes questioningly. 

“Why would ya do that?” 

You blew out a nervous breath and moved to stand in front of him again. “I didn’t want to have feelings for you. I didn’t want to let myself trust you or let you in. Because that would mean that I had something to lose. Again. And I don’t want to lose you.” 

Understanding washed over his face. He lifted a hand slowly, like trying to calm a spooked horse. With one finger, he traced the shape of your jaw with a feather touch, his gaze searching your face for any hint of pity or lies. You knew he could see the truth when his expression softened. You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes, relishing in the feeling of his rough hands against your skin, trying to ignore the thought of those hands moving all over your body. 

“I can’t promise you won’t lose me, darlin’. But I promise to do everything in my power to never hurt you.” His voice rumbled close to your ear. “Let me take care of ya. Let me love ya.” 

He lifted his other hand and cupped your face, angling for better access, making your heart flutter in your chest. His lips brushed against yours, giving you enough time to pull away if you wanted. You didn’t want to. You’d wasted enough time ignoring your feelings. You’d also spend too much time wondering how his lips felt. In a moment, you’d connected your lips to his in a timestopping kiss. It was better than you could have ever imagined.

The world around faded into nothing and it was just you and Daryl. Was this really happening?

The soft kiss turned heated in a flash, his tongue brushing against yours and he swallowed down the low moan you let out. He tasted like mint and cigarettes and the combination shot a pang of heat straight to your core.  

His hands trailed down your arms and settled on your hips, rotating you so your back was against the wall and the length of his hard body was pressed against yours, never breaking your kiss. You stood on your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around his neck, trying desperately to get closer to him. 

Realizing what you were trying to do, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you, wrapping your legs around his waist. He’d lifted you like you were nothing to him, his muscles flexing slightly and you couldn’t stop from swooning a bit. You were both panting into each other's mouths, trying like hell not to pull apart. When the lack of oxygen started to make things fuzzy, Daryl trailed his lips along your jaw and down your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, and you sucked in a breath. You felt drunk with need. 

Suddenly you were all too aware of how short your shorts were and how little fabric separated your bodies. His fingers dug into your flesh where he held you causing goosebumps to cover your bare legs, and you knew you’d have fingerprints on your ass tomorrow. The idea made you grind your hips against him a little harder and he groaned at the sensation. 

The sound broke through your hazy mind, the reality of where you were hitting you. Pushing against his chest a bit, you stuttered, “D-dar, wait.” 

His lips froze in place and he drug his nose back up neck until his forehead was resting against yours. His breath puffing against your mouth. “Yea?” 

“We’re in the hallway.” 

“And grass is green, sky is blue, fish swim.” He growled.

You huffed a laugh, “I mean, we should probably go somewhere more private before someone walks in on us.” 

Shifting his grip to hold you with one arm, he swept a piece of hair behind your ear and rubbed his thumb across your bottom lip. “You’re prob’ly right. I might hafta kill someone if they saw your beautiful lips all swollen like this.”

Butterflies fluttered low in your stomach again and you buried your face into the crook of his shoulder and neck. God, you wanted him so badly. Why had you resisted this for so long? 

Slowly, you dropped your legs to stand again, letting Daryl hold you up until they stopped shaking. When he thought you’d be able to stay up straight, he lifted your linked fingers up and kissed your knuckles. 

“Let’s go, angel. Ya can stay with me tonight.” In the guard office. The private guard office.

Nodding excitedly, you watched him grab up his backpack and crossbow and let him pull you in the direction of his room. 

“Ya know, Dar? You could’ve have just come and talked to me. You didn’t need to completely disappear for three days.” You peeked up at him out of the corner of your eye. 

He looked down at you and smiled smugly, “Ya coulda just told me ya were in love with me. What’s your excuse?” 

You rolled your eyes and tried to suppress a grin, “I’m not saying that out loud yet.” Knocking your shoulder into his, he stumbled closer and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. It was clear he knew you were full of shit but he would let you get away with it for a little while longer. 

“Oh, for I forget,” he burst out and started digging around in his backpack with one hand, “told ya it might take me a day or two...” 

You watched in surprise as he pulled out a small stuffed alligator toy and your heart skipped a beat. He’d seriously found you an alligator. 

“Oh my gosh, it’s so cute!” You grabbed it and held it tight to your chest. “I can’t believe you found this for me. How the heck do you find these things?” 

“I told ya, ya just hafta know where to look.” He pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head. “Besides, it’s easy when I’m always thinkin’ about ya.”

[acciotherapists]

A Spilled Drink

Summary: After a mission gone wrong Y/n believes Loki hates her. Does he really hate her? Or does he simply hate to love her?

Warnings: Smutty smut smut, barely a plot, 18+, minors DNI

Loki x fem!reader

A/N: I started writing this around Christmas time, hence the mistletoe reference lol

“You look like you could use this,” Nat says as she hands me a glass.

“What is it?”

“A drink, cectpa. I think you could use it.”

I nodded and downed the liquid, wincing as it burned my throat. She smirked at me and I rolled my eyes. “Straight Vodka?”

“I’m Russian,” she chuckles before signaling the bartender. “Another.”

The bartender placed another drink in front of us as Nat spoke. “So what exactly happened with you and Loki?”

I scoffed. “He’s an arrogant asshole.”

“Well, that much we knew but what happened.”

“He got hurt after a mission and he’s hated me ever since.”

“He hurts you because he got hurt?” she scoffed.

“I don’t know, Nat… it’s the only thing that makes sense. He must blame me for his injuries.”

Nat rolled her eyes. “He needs to get over himself. What happened on that mission was not your fault.”

A glass is placed on the counter next to us as the bartender nods. “I’ll have another one coming up in just a moment, Mr. Laufeyson.”

Loki nodded before turning his gaze to me. “Y/l/n,” he greeted.

“Laufeyson,” I replied.

Before I could say anything more I heard Wanda giggling next to Natasha and I turned to her. “What’ve you done now?”

She looked up and I dreaded what was to come for I had a slight inkling as to what she had done. I looked up and my eyes met a mistletoe hanging above our heads. The red berries were glowing as the green vines moved as if they’d just been placed above our heads.

“What is this, witch?” Loki hissed, glaring daggers at Wanda.

“You know, Loki,” Wanda replied, chuckling as she sipped her drink. “Kiss her!”

I rolled my eyes.

“Honestly, Maximoff, of all the jokes you could've pulled today… this little act of trickery is poor even for you.”

I could see his cheeks flushing a hint of pink as he maintained his cold demeanor.

“Oh, come on, Laufeyson! Get in the Christmas spirit! Just kiss her!” Nat exclaimed.

“I will not!”

I rolled my eyes. “I will not be forced to kiss him!”

I saw Wanda wiggle her fingers ever so slightly and Loki’s drink poured over my dress.

“Loki!” I hissed before turning to Wanda. “Wanda!”

She raised her hands innocently. “What? I did nothing!”

“Apologies, Agent Y/l/n!” Loki exclaimed. He conjured a cloth and began dabbing my shoulders. “It’s all over your dress… I’m truly very sorry, love.”

I furrowed my brows at the sudden change in his demeanor.

“Please, allow me to escort you back to your room so you can get out of that dress. I-I’m truly sorry about this, Y/n.”

“It’s fine, honestly.” I brushed him off. “You don’t need to-.”

“She’d love that!” Wanda interrupted, pushing me closer to Loki. I glared at her but she simply smiled in return.

“But before you go…” Once again she gestured to the mistletoe above our heads. I rolled my eyes, preparing to walk away, but Loki had other plans. He grabbed my face and pulled me flush against his chest, pressing his lips to mine. His kiss was rough and his hands were merciless as they moved down my body, grabbing every bit of exposed flesh they could.

“Holy hell, Laufeyson,” I whispered breathlessly as we pulled away from the kiss. He said nothing and simply held out his hand before leading me to my room… at least I thought that’s where he was leading me but once we turned left instead of right I realized that’s not what was happening.

“Where are you taking me?”

“We’re just taking a little detour,” he assured me as we reached his room. “You can leave anytime you want,” he promised as he shut the door behind us and pressed my body against it.

“What are you doing?” I hissed.

“I promised I would help you get out of this dress… I intend to make good on my word. As soon as I saw you soaking wet in this dress I couldn't resist.

I scoffed. “That’s how you solve all your problems, isn’t it? By fucking your way out of them.”

He chuckled darkly. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it… late at night when you’re alone with nothing but your hand.” His fingers slowly moved down my side, reaching under my dress. “You can’t tell me your fingers haven’t slipped beneath your skirts to soothe that delicious little ache between your legs, hm?” He pressed his thumb to my clothed clit. “Tell me you haven’t imagined my hands down there… my tongue… my cock.”

“Fuck, Loki.”

His cock twitched in his trousers. “That’s it, darling. Moan my name.”

He pulled my panties to the side, slipping his finger through my folds. I was struggling to control my moans as they threatened to slip from my lips.

“None of that,” he hissed, smacking my ass with his other hand. “Let me hear you.”

I moaned and he chuckled darkly at the sound. “Such lovely little noises you make, darling.” He circled my clit with his thumb and I could feel my orgasm approaching as I gripped his shoulders.

“That’s it, little one,” he murmured into my ear, pressing his lips along my neck. He slipped his fingers inside my entrance, still circling my clit. “Norns, you feel perfect… can’t imagine how good you’re going to feel around my cock.”

I moaned loudly, clenching around his fingers and he chuckled. “There’s my good girl.” I could feel him smirking against my skin before he nibbled the skin of my ear. “Let go, darling. I’ve got you.” His other hand snaked around my waist. “I won’t let you fall. Just let go for me.”

My orgasm ripped through me and I moaned loudly as he continued circling my clit, helping me ride out the high. As I slowly came down he kissed me hard, murmuring against my lips. “You’re perfect.” He lifted me off the ground, gently tossing me on the bed. With a wave of his hand our clothes were gone and he climbed over me, grasping his cock in his hand, before searching my eyes. “May I?”

“Please, Loki,” I moaned, reaching out for him.

“Are you on the pill?” he asked. “Or would you prefer I use a condom?”

I shook my head. “I’m on the pill.” I grabbed his cock, stroking it. “Please.”

He smiled and I removed my hand, sliding it up his chest as he slipped his cock into my entrance, bracing himself above me. HIs eyes closed in pleasure, groaning as he slipped inside me.

“Fuck, darling… better than I ever could’ve imagined.”

I gripped his hips, slowly pushing him against me, begging him to move. He pressed his lips to mine and slowly began setting a steady pace, circling his hips. I moaned into his mouth and I could feel him smiling more each time I moaned for him. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured against my lips. “I can feel you getting close. He moved his hand to my clit, rubbing it harshly. “Cum for me, baby.” His hips started moving faster. “Cum,” he growled. “Cum now.”

My back arched as I came, moaning his name loudly. With a final thrust of his hips, he came inside me, pressing his hips hard against mine as he groaned in pleasure. His thumb was still rubbing my clit as I slowly came down from my high. As I settled back into the bed, breathing heavily, he removed his hand, kissing along my jaw.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, slowly pulling out of me. He conjured a cloth and carefully wiped my thighs. When he finished the cloth disappeared and he settled next to me but I knew I couldn’t stay.

I was preparing to redress and leave his chambers when I felt his arm wrap around my waist as his lips pressed to my shoulders. “Where are you going, little love?”

“Back to my room,” I answered.

“Why?”

“Isn’t that what you want? Isn’t that what most women you bring back do after you’ve fucked them?”

He scoffed. “You are not like most women I bring back here to fuck, darling… you are superior by far… and you mean far more to me than some common whore.”

I sighed, finally turning to face him. “Then do you act as if you hate me? Ever since our last mission together you’ve avoided me like the plague.” 

“I can assure you, my darling… I would not let a plague anywhere near my cock. It is far too valuable an asset to be struck down by a plague.”

I rolled my eyes. “Good talk, Loki,” I said before standing up.

“No, wait!” He abruptly stood and moved in front of me, blocking my path. “I’m sorry, darling. You’re right… I was avoiding you but not for the reasons you think… When I was injured on the last mission… you saw a side of me no one ever has… you saw me vulnerable and I swore to never let anyone see me that way but… but you saw… and you didn’t run away… you didn’t try to use it against me. You… you actually seemed to care… and that scared me more than anything.”

“The thought of me caring for you scared you more than anything?”

He nodded. “I’ve never had that apart from my mother and Thor… it’s not something I thought I could ever get used to.”

“You could… if you wanted to,” I murmured, unable to meet his eyes, but he was having none of that. He lifted my chin, his eyes locking with mine.

“You mean it?”

I nodded.

“So you would… be mine… if I asked?”

Another nod.

“Then… w-would you… be mine?”

I nodded once again and crashed my lips to his, sealing that promise.

**********************************************

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Meet the Family 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: I love writing toxic people.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

“Mr. Hansen--” You begin, choking on your error, “Lloyd, my flight--” 

“Christ, I told you, cancel it. I’ll add the difference to your next check,” he grits under his breath. 

You plant your feet, shifting despite your effort as he keeps his grip on your hand. He turns back with a grunt. 

“What’re you doing?” He asks. 

“No, what are you doing?” You throw back. “What the hell is going on?” 

“First, watch that sweet mouth of yours. Second, we’ve been through this, Pixie pie. You just need to play along,” he keeps his voice low and peeks over his shoulder. “Loosen up a bit.” He loosens his hold on you and runs his hand up your sleeve. “Hm, I guess I shoulda told you to dress up a bit.” 

“What?” You look down at your black cotton tea-length dress. You chose it for comfort but it’s not entirely frumpy. The ribbed stockings might not add much to the attire however. 

“Just...” He grabs your shoulders and nudges them back, “push the chest out a bit.” 

“Ugh,” you clasp onto his wrists, “stop. Okay. I’ll stay for dinner but I can’t miss my flight--” 

“You have to,” he argues. 

“You realise this is wildly inappropriate,” you say. 

“Do you really expect anything different?” He tweaks a brow. “You’re staying. I’m not doing this alone. I put it off for a decade already--” 

“Jesus--” 

“No blasphemy either,” he lets go of you and presses his finger to your lips. You growl and shove his hand away. 

“I want a bonus, a big bonus--” 

He hushes you and waves his hands. He leans back and once more looks over his shoulders. “Later. We’ll deal with numbers in private. Right now, you need to come meet your in-laws.” 

You squint at him. It’s an act, you remind yourself, but something about his commitment to it makes you uneasy. You know better than to believe a word that comes out of his mouth but there’s a degree of earnestness in him that’s unsettling. 

“Baby, please, don’t look at me like that,” he steps closer, “I need you to look at me like I’m the second coming, okay? We’re madly in love, you and I.” Your eyes widen and he sighs, “okay, you’re not scared of me.” 

You neutralise your expression and blow out a long breath. You shake away the tension and shrug. It’s as good as you can do. 

“Here,” he grabs your wrist and turns, guiding your arm through his, “just smile pretty for me.” 

He hooks your elbow with his and urges you onward. You steel yourself for the room of strangers as their voices drift through the archway.  

You enter the front room and quickly scan the space; there’s a large-mouthed hearth, lit and draped in evergreen and berries; a long cream sectional, a matching duo of armchairs, and a chaise in the same shade; a low glass coffee table with a golden perch and a console table in a similar style along the wall crowded with bottles and crystal; an area rug in a smooth white with patterns in dulcet beige and rich butterscotch; and the low din is cast by tea lights daintily set around the space in glass holders and candelabra. 

More pressing than the decor are the bodies that fill the room. You recognise Ransom as he speaks with an older woman with short white hair and thick-framed glasses. She wears a red pantsuit with a gold blouse. Very festive. 

You glance over at Lloyd and take him in fully. You hadn’t paid much attention for the whirlwind all around. He wears a pair of evergreen slacks and a sweater with a reindeer's face on the front. He wouldn’t even let you put tinsel on your desk but now he’s dressed like a kid in a holiday parade. 

“Looks like someone didn’t get the memo,” a tall blonde woman approaches with a glass of pale wine in hand. You try not to look with concern at her rounded middle; it sticks out starkly as her long limbs are thin and lithe. “A very grim Christmas indeed.” 

“Lillian,” Lloyd faces the woman about his own height. She has his eyes and his lips. You assume their relation before he declares it. “My sister, Pixie,” he gestures to her carelessly. 

“Older sister,” she preens and rests her hand on her swollen stomach. Your eyes flick away from the crystal in her hand. 

“By about thirty-one seconds,” Lloyd scoffs. 

“Oh, sweetie, it’s non-alcoholic,” she swirls the wine in her glass, “she’s so tiny and quiet.” 

“Ahem,” you clear your throat, “it’s nice to meet you.” 

She laughs, “oh, so polite. Entirely not his type.” 

You try not to react. You agree. You know the women that Lloyd really likes. You’ve screened their calls until they just give up on getting a second date. 

“Believe it or not, Lil, you’re not everyone’s type,” Lloyd retorts. “I think your ex-husband would agree. The second one too.” Lloyd lifts his chin and looks around, “is the third here or are we on number four?” 

“Lovely,” she spits. “Love you too, brother.” 

He shakes his head and draws you away from her. She raises her brows and her glass and sips. You let him take you away. You already despise most of these people. The room radiates with derision. Your family might have some grudges but there’s a general air of good will. 

“I need a drink,” he mutters. 

You gladly follow him to the table. He pours himself a tumbler from the boxy decanter. He sighs as he picks it up but stops himself from drinking. 

“Well, help yourself,” he says. 

You hesitate but not for long. You need something if you’re going to get through this. You pour yourself some chardonnay and sidle away from the table. You check your watch as you raise your glass. 

“Don’t fucking worry about your flight,” he hisses under his breath. “If I’m not getting out of this, you aren’t either.” 

“But why?” You ask behind the glass. 

“Not right now,” he warns and nods at another figure as they approach. “Uncle Benson.” 

“Junior,” the man returns. You drink your wine and don’t comment on the epithet. “Where’s the old man?” 

“Where he always is,” Lloyd replies. 

“Mm, and this is...” the older man looks at you pointedly, dipping his chin to do so. 

“Pixie. My fiancee,” Lloyd answers dully, almost deflating. 

“Benson,” the man offers his hand, “but a pretty girl like you can call me Benny.” 

“Benny,” Lloyd repeats to himself in confusion. 

You shake Benson’s hand, “um, thanks, nice to meet you.” 

“Mm, very nice to meet you,” he lifts your hand and smushes his lips to your knuckles. He clings to you, petting your hand. “You’re gorgeous, what’re you doing with this lump?” 

“Uncle,” Lloyd drones. 

“Adorable,” Benson inches closer, “my inheritance is bigger than his, among other things.” 

“Alright,” Lloyd snatches your hand away from him, “go have some water, Benson,” he growls, “think you’ve been into the brandy.” 

“I’d like to get into something else,” Benson snickers. 

You almost laugh, despite your disgust. You’ve heard that line before. Lloyd puts himself between you and the older man. “I think that’s why Carolyn filed the papers, huh.” 

“Oh, you little twat,” Benson snarls. “Fine, fine, I’ll leave you to disappoint her on your own.” 

Lloyd tuts and shakes his head as the man lumbers off. He turns around and drains his glass. It’s strange, seeing him in his natural habitat; he’s not so ‘alpha’ here. 

“Let’s get the rounds over with.” He grumbles. 

Your wine lasts you through the introductions. Two more uncles; Carter and Linus, along with their wives, Andrea and Angela. Then the full-blooded aunts; four of them, Raquel, Shanna, Beatrice, and Lana. All of them tall, blonde, and bold in their own way. Then a batch of cousins you can’t keep sorted; Ransom and his mother Linda, among them, with no explanation as to the rest of their tribe. 

Lloyd pours himself more whiskey. You abstain from a refill and stand near the wall, observing the wilderness of entitled trust-funders. It explains so much yet inspires so many more questions. You never expected Lloyd to be the dark horse. 

“Lonely?” The timbre startles you along with the twisting pinch on your ass.  

You yipe and snag the attention of several sets of eyes around the room, not least of all Benson, drooling over another snifter of dark alcohol. You swat Ransom’s hand away and face him amid the row of laughter. Despite the airs they put on, your audience is more amused than appalled. 

“Where’s your prince, huh?” Ransom asks. “All that whiskey and...” He holds up his index then lets it go limp, “don’t think it’ll be a very peppy after party, sweetheart.” 

You sniff and cross your arms. These people are at least consistent, grossly so. It makes you wonder why Lloyd was so insistent that you watch your mouth, especially when you’ve never stooped to his level before. 

“Is it much of a party if there’s only one attendee?” You counter. 

He narrows his eyes and tilts his head, “what?” 

“Nothing,” you shake our head. You don’t need to explain the joke. Besides, this is all fake. Don’t let it get to you. 

“So, how long did he wait to put that ugly thing on your finger?” Ransom asks. 

You shrug, “long enough.” 

“Did he do the whole schtick? Get down on one knee? Put the ring in your wine glass?” He prods. 

“I’ll let him tell the story,” you say. 

“Hm, never knew a woman so unexcited about a wedding,” he snorts. 

“Maybe I’m just unexcited by my company,” you back away as his hand jiggles at his side. You eye his fingers, wary of another pinch. 

“Fine, marriage is boring anyways. What’s his favourite position? I always figured he lets the ladies do all the work,” he snickers. 

You stare at him. Not quite as offended as annoyed. You could ask him which hand he uses but you are not letting Lloyd drag you that low. Why are you even letting him put your through this? 

“Hugh,” Lloyd appears and slides his arm over your shoulders. 

“Little L,” Ransom retorts dryly. 

“Shut up,” Lloyd sneers as you resist the urge to shrug him off of you. 

“Where were you then? Leaving your woman all on her lonesome,” Ransom rubs his fingers together subtly and you scowl at him. 

“Broke the seal,” Lloyd deflects. “What do you care? You wanna hold it next time? 

“Hands are too big,” Ransom cackles. 

“Speaking of,” you pipe up. “The bathroom, where would that be?” 

Lloyd clucks and looks down at you, “down the hall, opposite the kitchen.” 

“Thanks,” you carefully slip away from him, “I’ll be back.” 

“Wait,” Lloyd catches your arm and pulls you back. “Not without this.” 

He leans in before you can react. He bends to press his lips to yours and you can’t repress a surprised squeak. He purrs and the vibration makes your skin crawl. What on earth?! 

You part and ignore the stares you can feel all around. Not just from Ransom but the rest of the room. What is he doing? That’s so embarrassing. 

You force a smile, “uh, be back.” 

You spin and scurry away. That room, those people, are suffocating, and Lloyd, not least of all. You hide in the bathroom, locking the door, and you take the moment of stillness to think. Big mistake as it all starts to set in. 

You drove all the way here under false pretenses. It’s believable that Lloyd would forget to bring the gifts. That tracks but this? The whole pretending to be engaged? What is his game? Is he really trying to impress anyone or is he torturing you? Why? 

You can’t figure any of it out. You gave up trying to understand your boss ages ago, you suppose you should do the same with these people and just get through this. For all your trouble, the food better be fucking delicious. 

You let yourself out of the bathroom and flatten against the door as you nearly collide with another person. Lillian nearly stomps right over you as she holds her stomach and rushes down the hallway. She lets out a sigh. 

“Oh, are you done in there? I’m splitting at the seams,” she trills. 

“Um, yeah, all done,” you sidle away from the door. 

“Could I trouble you for some help?” She asks. “This thing,” she pats her stomach, “I can get down but I can’t get up.” 

“Hm?” You furrow your brow in confusion, “help?” 

“We’re both girls,” she giggles. “And we’ll be sisters soon enough, won’t we?” 

“Um.” 

“You know, a pregnancy at my age, I really can’t strain myself,” she explains. 

“Oh, er, I guess--” 

“Thanks, sweetie,” she nudges you back into the bathroom. You have no choice as she heard you through. 

You stare at the wall as she slams the door and hustles over to the toilet. She pulls up her white dress and turns to sit, her silhouette a blur in your peripheral. You flick your eyes to the ceiling and bounce on your heels. 

Her stream flows out and fills the tense silence. She sighs. 

“Thank the lord,” she groans. “I swear, the little twerp is right on my bladder right now.” 

“Mm,” you nod and glance at the door. 

“I knew we should’ve gone with a surrogate,” she sniffs. “A piece of advice, when he puts one in you, make him suffer.” 

“Puts one...” you blink. “Um, I don’t...” 

“I mean, he’ll have to start trying as soon as the wedding night,” she laughs. “He’s getting up there. His swimmers won’t be as fast, will they? And the way he drinks, they’ll be too groggy to know which way is which.” 

“Um, we’ll worry about the wedding first--” 

“Enjoy it. Once you’re tied down, it’s not very much fun,” she says as she tears of tissue. “Alright then, darling, I need you.” 

You do your best not to see all of her. She reaches for you and you get close. You pull her up to her feet and she squeezes past you to the sink. You look at the toilet and shut the lid, flushing it with a push of the button. She washes her hands with a hum. 

“You’ll be so adorable when you’re big. Like an overstuffed teddy bear,” she chimes. “He’ll love that. He always did hate feeling small.” She twists off the faucet and dries her hands. “You must make him feel like the man he wishes he was.” 

You just look at her. You have no true reason to defend Lloyd, but because she’s so smug it irks you. You look her in the face, even if you feel ridiculous having to look up. 

“Well, he can piss on his own, so I think he’s just fine,” you step around her and swing open the door. The silence that follows you is the only satisfying thing about that night. 

[lushxboba]

The Emperors Prize

Emperor Geta X Peasant!Reader

Word Count: 2k

TW// 18+ ONLY (minors be gone), mentions of family members death, mentions of murder, spitting, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, thigh riding, if i missed anything let me know !!

A/N: i haven’t written in months so be gentle with me pls 🙏🏽

It’d been the longest year of your life. Ever since Emperor Geta took over after his father died, your whole life had been turned upside down. Your father died the year prior, finally succumbing to his disease after being refused medical care by the kingdom. And your brother was left to do the only thing he felt was right to take care of your family. Train to be a gladiator. Perform in front of the Emperor and all of Rome to fight for his families survival. Only to not survive himself. Leaving you to take care of your little sister and sickly mother all to yourself.

Of course you blamed the only person you felt was responsible. Geta. He killed your father. He killed your brother. You wouldn’t let him take the last of what you had. So you did what you needed to survive, and stayed far away from his tyrants.

You’d heard of his army walking the markets day to day, blending in with the rest of peasants just to try and find someone stealing. They would take them to the temple and cut their hands off, cut their tongue out, maybe even behead them then and there. But you were smarter than those people. And faster. You had to be.

Before your father died, he always told you that your speed would be your superpower to survive Getas reign. You’d never have to face the torment of being in the arena and using your strength against your neighbors, but you could use your speed against his tyrants.

You spent days running in the slums, back and forth until you couldn’t breathe again. Or until you felt like you could’ve lost them. You knew you were ready for anything. Considering you did steal food to survive, you had to be.

You never thought you’d get caught. You’d been doing it for months now, and it seemed that only the elderly were the ones being dragged back to the kingdom. Call it population control if you will. But your time was surely coming to an end, and you could feel it.

You took your weekly walk down to the market, keeping your hood up and frequently looking out for suspicious vendors and customers. You’d seen people dragged away enough to know what they’d look like. They weren’t very good at disguising themselves. To you at least.

You tried to go to different stands each week so they wouldn’t catch on to you. You found a nice fruit stand with more colorful berries than you’d ever seen in your life.

You approached the stand as you practiced your distraction tactic in your head. You took a look around the stand, asking the man about how much he gets each week to sell, making him turn around to look in his inventory, giving you the perfect chance to quickly shove pints and pints of fruit in your bag.

Before he could turn back around, you were gone. Quickly walking through the market fast enough to be out of his eyesight but not fast enough to cause a scene.

You’d made it halfway down the road, just long enough to think you’d gotten away with it until you felt two pairs of hands gripping on each of your arms tightly.

“Little girl thought she got away, huh?” A deep voice husks behind your ear. You don’t fight it. No point in fighting when they’ve already made up their mind. And they are clearly much stronger than you.

You just roll your eyes as you let them walk you towards the kingdom. You can feel the eyes of everyone on you as they practically carry you towards the kingdom, but you pay them no mind. Your father always told you there was no reason to fight.

Once you reach the castle, the anger in you bubbles more and more. Knowing two people you loved died here made you want to rip the ugly brown wallpaper off of the walls and break down the pillars.

The men carry you up the steps to a large room bolted down with a big gold chain. You don’t even bother being nervous or anxious about what’s behind that door. You know your fate is decided the second your name is mentioned to the emperor.

One of the men unlock the chain while the other holds your arm even tighter. You’ve made no signs of struggle so you don’t exactly understand why they have to bruise your arm in the process. The door opens to reveal a long hallway, covered with a red and gold carpet leading to a throne. You’d recognize that throne anywhere. Along with the man who sits on it.

The walk down the runway seems like hours, as the man you despise most in this world stares you down with his wide brown eyes.

“You’re dismissed.” He says in a dark tone. The two men let go of your arms and bow before Geta before turning and leaving the room. Bolting the door down once again behind you.

“Most people bow when they see me.” He says, his legs and arms spread comfortably on the soft throne paid for by his slaves.

“I’m not most people.” You stand tall in front of him, keeping eye contact. “...your highness.” You smirk before playfully bending your knee and bowing in front of him.

Geta scoffs before standing up from his throne, slowly making his way towards you. “You look familiar.” His breath lingers down your skin as he circles around your body, his arms behind his back.

“You killed my father… and my brother.” You can see the gears click in his mind as he stops right in front of you. He places his hand roughly under your chin making you shiver. He forcefully turns your head both ways before nodding. “Caius’ daughter. How could I forget those innocent eyes?”

Your breathing gets heavier as you remember everything this man has put your family through. You spit on his cheek, making him quickly shuffle back. He chuckles under his breath, looking up at you as he wipes your saliva off of his face. “I should have you hung for that alone.”

“You’re going to kill me anyways. What else do I have to lose?” You get down on your knees, placing your hands behind your back as you ready yourself for the knife that is knowingly going to come to your neck.

“Who ever said anything about killing you? I surely didn’t.” He steps closer to you, leaning down to place his hand under your chin once again, this time softer. “Who could kill such a pretty little whore like you?” He lifts your head up to look at him, smirking as your eyes meet his once again.

He roughly pushed your head away as he steps back, slowly untying his robe. “I’ve already done enough damage to you, don’t you think?” He smirks, dropping his robe to reveal his extremely toned naked body. His cock jumps up to his stomach in anticipation, and as much as you hate him, you can’t take your eyes off of it. “In return for letting you live, I say you do a little something for me, don’t you think?” He spits in his hand, moving it down to stroke his cock as you watch on your knees. “You’re already in the position… it’s only fair.”

He moves back to his throne, sitting with his legs spread as he continues to stroke himself. Your mouth salivates at the image alone. You get up from your knees, slowly walking towards him until you’re standing in between his legs.

“I’d rather die than do anything to serve you.” You spit on him once again. Before you can turn around, he grabs you by the wrists and pulls you down on to your knees, holding your hair in one hand so you can’t move.

“This wasn’t an option.” He grabs his cock with his other hand, tapping it on your cheek before roughly shoving it into your mouth. You can’t help but moan the second you taste his salty seed lingering out the tip. “The good girl likes it, too.” He chuckles.

You look up at him with fire in your eyes, slowly bobbing your head up and down his hard member. You keep your arms behind your back and let him take control. That is all he wants after all. You watch as he throws his back in pleasure, moaning loud enough you’re sure the rest of the kingdom can hear you.

He grips your hair tighter with each movement of your mouth, pulling you every which way he wants you to go. “Your mouth is so wet and tight. Can’t wait to see what that perfect cunt feels like.”

You quickly pull off of him, removing one of your hands from your back to stroke him. “You never said anything about fucking me.”

“Oh, but I just did.” He smirks, leaning down to grab your hips and pull you into his lap. “You thought you were going to get away without me feeling your cunt wrapped around my cock?” He grinds into you, his hands roaming up and down your sides. You can’t help but to grind with him, moaning into his hair as he attaches his mouth to your neck.

His hand reaches down to lift up your skirt, revealing no underwear underneath. He moans into your neck as his fingers trace along your wet slit. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him closer to you as you grind your pussy along his hand.

You reach down to palm his cock, making him moan even louder if that was possible. “Need to feel you already.” He whines as he pulls your shirt up, his mouth immediately sucking on your nipples.

You grab his cock and run the tip along your slit, smirking as you tease him. “Never thought I’d have the Emperor of Rome begging me to fuck him.” You laugh, still riding the tip of his cock.

He growls, grabbing his cock and quickly thrusting up into you. You gasp loudly, gripping his neck tighter than before. He wraps his arms around your back, thrusting into you hard. You match his movements with the bounce of your own hips, leaving both of you a moaning mess.

You can feel your own arousal leaking out and coating both of your thighs. The sounds emitting from this room were obscene, and you just hoped the Gods would forgive you.

You roll your hips faster against him as you feel the familiar coil burn in your stomach quickly. His cock twitches inside of you, making your ego bigger than it already was coming into this room.

“You’re going to cum.” You say breathily, gripping him by his hair to make him look at you. He doesn’t say anything. Just looks in your eyes with his mouth open as he thrusts into you one last time. His hands grip your hips tightly as you feel him dripping out of you. The feeling is enough to make you shake as you reach your own high.

You hold him by his hair tightly, your hips still slowly rolling against his as your both catch your breath. It doesn’t take long for him to remove you from his lap. He grips your hips and swiftly places you back on your feet.

“You may be dismissed now.” He says quietly, clearing his throat as he looks down at his feet.

“Nothing to clean me up at least?” You respond, looking at him even though he isn’t doing the same.

“You’re a peasant. You walk around dirty anyways.” He scoffs.

You walk close to him, lifting your skirt and placing a leg on either side of his thigh. You slide yourself down his thigh until it’s coated in your juices before hopping off.

You fix your skirt, smoothing it out as you smirk up at him. “Your highness.” You bow, pulling your skirt out each way before turning around and walking yourself out. Leaving Geta speechless… for now.

[hoseoksluna]

ICHOR | jjk

pairing: idol!boyfriend!jungkook x f. reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.4k

summary: after a bad day at work, you lose a sense of yourself and jungkook leads you right back to her.

warnings: crying, capitalism, death metaphors, sadness, jungkook is sweaty and is wearing that nike shirt he wore in his working out live, has fluffy hair!

note: hiii, bubbas, so this is fluff fic is partly for @frmisnow bc she inspired me to write this & i also want to make her feel better with this sacchariny-sweet jungkook, partly for me bc i genuinely wrote in detail about what i went through at work these past two days. and, also, for all you guys because i made you go through reading about such evil jungkook in my last berries fic. i hope you enjoy it, let me know what you think. here's to a bit of happiness in our lives *cheers with an imaginary glass of imaginary pink, glittery, strong, fairy alcohol*. <3

You used to be a goddess, the ichor in your veins carried the color of roses, glinted with flecks of gold that would radiate your skin from beneath, make any heads turn, especially the one you loved the most. Customers at work smiled upon seeing your cordial aura, close-knit even though they were mere strangers, preferred to go to you amidst the flock of your other colleagues around. They would become radiated just the same, joy so terribly evident on their faces as their smile would grow. They would frown upon seeing the state of you at this current moment—curled up on your bed while the heat of the beginning of the summer clings to your near bareness, coming through your wide opened windows, the white, translucent curtains billowing up and down in their strange, but magnolious dance. 

You’re not Aphrodite. You’re not Euphrosyne, the goddess of joy and mirth, either. 

You’re the slain fawn at their feet—for their very own feast and for the feast of those aforementioned customers, who stand behind the dryly bloodied cause of your death. 

Work was hell, to say the least. 

You always thought death was a kind embrace, not a tight clasp of doom around the nape of your neck, your mental strain and disquietude the half moon marks that ever so slowly deepen. You mimic the movement on the hem of the linen shirt you wore for the day, one that you were too drowsy to take off when you arrived at home, having only a slight wisp of an energy to rid yourself of the uncomfortable tightness of your jeans and crawl onto your bed, knees to chest, on your side. You bunch up the fabric in your fist, wrinkling it, but you hardly vanquish the cuts that your anxiety slashes on your skin. You thought it would alleviate you of your tenseness, but as it seems—it only worsened it. 

You don’t even have tears to shed. Wept them all out in your manager’s office while she harshly, yet calmly reprimanded you for your mistake and the gravity of the fact that you almost lost your precious job, that you can’t imagine living without, washed over you and pained you like a splash of salty water in your eyes. Wept them all out when you breathed in the crooked, paralyzed expression of disappointment in her face—and that’s the sole thing that emptied out your system of that ichor, wiped out your reputation of being a good, reliable employee that everybody liked. 

Now the next unfolding of your days spent at work shall be filled with silent judgements and secretive gossip, the big talk of the entire building—something that will hang by the strands of your hair for every head to turn to until something else comes along. Another topic, another fuck-up. That’s the face of modern capitalism, the absurdity of day-to-day normalcy its features, and you’re so sick, so repulsed to be staring at it every single day of your life that you yearn to not be anymore. 

Death has flattened over you, but has not finished its job. It was Dante who described the process of hell in his Divine Comedy and you hate him for the rotten pulchritude of his mind because you find yourself to be standing in the middle of inferno with no guide—no Virgil, no Beatrice—to hold your hand and lead you through this scalding maze. You’re all alone, your mistake carving the branches of the trees burning down in your hell over your burdened, heavy heart that has been longing for the company of another ever since you walked out of your manager’s office. 

Your face screws as another agonized emotion rises in you. You can’t stand your aloneness, can’t stand your burden—and before you realize what you’re doing, your fingers have already tapped on your boyfriend’s name in your history of calls. The screen of your phone is cool against the fever of your cheek and you rub your face harder against your duvet, staining the strawberry pattern with the particular tinge of your makeup, which must have been the color of your ichor. 

You wince, the rings prolonging in your ear, your impatience running thin. 

Then, your heart drops once you hear the broken whisper of your Beatrice, faintly, barely, which causes your heart to spread its longing. Damn iPhones and their bad service. 

“Jungkook?” you call out, nonsense coming through the other end—and you repeat his name until his voice smooths out, relief sinking in like a stone in a pond. 

It turns out you were exchanging each other’s names and the intimacy of it curls the smallest of smiles on your mouth. You miss him; you need him. 

“When are you coming home?” you ask, wishing to descend into the emitting waves of the call, slide through them until you spring to wherever he is, no matter how tired you are—you’re willing to cross the distance. 

You hear him turn on his blinker and your heart almost does it for you. 

“I’m driving home right now. I’ll be there in ten,” he says and your relief expands in your chest, taking a small weight off of your heart. You place your palm against it. 

“Okay.” 

A beat of silence. 

“Why do you sound so sad?” 

Your mouth curls downwards. “Something happened at work.” 

An inhale of breath. “Screw that, baby. I’ll be there in five, okay?” 

A whimper. “Okay, drive safe.” 

And your Beatrice didn’t lie to you. Soon, you hear the banging of the front door closing, the tossing of his keys and the prodding open of your shared bedroom door. The hastened footsteps, hefty on the floating floor, the squeak of the mattress as his knee dips on it and the glide of his hand up your thigh. All before you use the last of your strength to focus your swimming vision on him. 

Hearing him alone helped you take a step further in your inferno. 

And then you can smell him. The scent of sweat clinging to his favorite ivory Nike shirt, interlaced with his natural, poetic scent, creating something divine that blesses you with the strength to place your palm on top of his hand. Your coworkers hugged you earlier, clasped your hands in theirs in reassurement and more than welcome it, you absolutely despised it. Lingered in their affection only because you thought you should let yourself be consoled, for you know they care about you. But his touch… that’s not something you sense your body to want to run away from. On the contrary, it seems to be something that it’s missing. 

You can’t part the stream of your new tears with your other hand. 

You spill, completely. 

Jungkook coos, squeezing the bare flesh of your thigh as turns you onto your back and nudges himself between them, plopping his body on top of yours. And then, he’s kissing the place your undone shirt made for him, trailing his lips up your neck, where he stays, where he conjures a garden of fluttering gardenias, their tender petals tickling you. 

“What did they do to my princess?” he murmurs against your skin, his words muffled but heard clearly by your ears. You sob, your chest shuddering in violent staccatos against his, unable to settle, unable to speak. Jungkook lifts his small head and frowns, his thumb swiping your tears away while the rest of his four fingers cradle your cheek. You lean into the balmy safety of the realm of his palm, gaze fixed on the wrinkle between his brows, mouth letting out puffs of soft, gentle exhales. He kisses your chin, the corner of your mouth, the wetness of your other cheek—buries his nose into it, right beside yours, inhaling you, giving you fresh air to breathe in. “Don’t cry. I’m gonna decapitate them.” 

The whisper, the hand that parted the stream. You whimper and he steals the traces of your despondency, pecking the new, smooth surface, planting roses to bloom, its roots bestowing you with the ability of speech. 

Two sentences, two miles further in the inferno. Your burnt down trees are lost in the far distance, swallowed by the fire, yet the forest shows every sign of growing anew the longer Jungkook’s heart beats against your breast. 

He’s so benevolently patient with you, not rushing you with your explanation. It all the more drives you to disclose it to him—and you open your mouth to speak, your fingers following suit, helping you with your words as you drag them through the soft mop of his fluffy hair. 

“I made a mistake yesterday while closing up,” you croak out, licking your lips. Jungkook lifts himself onto his elbows, clutching your shoulders, keeping the close proximity intact. His warm grip is a stability you lean on, one you appreciate with every broken shard in you. “I did it five minutes earlier and somebody came in. I sent them away and they filed a complaint against me. They wrote an email to my manager and I… I almost lost my job.”

The wrinkle between his brows deepens and you thumb it, wishing it away. You don’t want to mar his beautiful face because of your foolishness; you want it to remain that soft ball of light that he always is, but then you realize you’re asking for the impossible. His mouth flattens, pity flashes across his round eyes, which helps you perceive that if he didn’t react like this, he wouldn’t love you—and his love is the air you breathe; his love is the ointment you need for your sadness. 

As if he heard you, he kisses you delicately and you sail—skip the purgatory and land in paradiso, a meadow of wildflowers overlooking a cliff that opens the restfulness of the sea, scattered with windswept petals of those lost blossoms, coloring the surface with pinks, whites and the greens of their leaves. 

“Did your manager yell at you?” Jungkook questions, his lips lifted a millimeter above yours, his thumbs fondling the fabric of your shirt upon your shoulders. 

“No, but she was very strict with me. Told me not to cry—”

His breath wafts over your face when he looks into your eyes, displeased. “She made you cry?” 

You cried because through her words you comprehended the gravity of your mistake and its repercussions, not because she deliberately used them to open the dam of your emotions. It’s precisely why she told you not to cry, giving you a hint of her perpetually nonexistent compassion. And you tell him. 

“No, she didn’t. She was very professional with me and made me realize what I did after I apologized. I cried because I was so scared of losing my job, of disappointing her and shit like that.” 

Jungkook purses his lips, shaking his head, curly strands rippling like the tremor of leaves. “She should’ve dropped it after you apologized. Five minutes is nothing, baby. You did nothing to deserve to be treated like that.” 

Your chest heaves, his love and reassurement sifting sand into your bloodstream, the color of ichor. “I know but… you know,” you trail off, indicating the realm of respect all peers must have for the management that you don’t really want to venture into, not when Jungkook had to deal with it as well in his music company. But unlike you, he broke out of its clutches. It cost him tears, frustration and weight loss, but now he’s a free bird of paradise. You don’t wish to make him remember his cage. 

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah, baby, I know, which is why I’m telling you that you didn’t deserve that.” 

Your chin quivers, the negative thoughts that wore you down in his absence returning at full speed. “It affects my mental health when I’m bad at my job.” 

Brows rounding upwards, his eyes flick to your chin, a glossy wetness coating them. He pecks it before he gazes into your irises. “But you’re not bad at your job. You just closed a few minutes earlier. You’re amazing at your job. You make people happy. I’ve seen it with my own eyes,” he says, meaning every word with the way he presses each one into your pupils. You feel its magnetism and you take it. “And I’m proud of you. Every day. You work so hard. Come home tired every day. Deal with people who aren’t always nice to you with kindness that I envy. I’m proud of you, you hear me? You didn’t make a mistake. You did good.”

And there it is, the stampede of your bloodstream—Jungkook has seeped the entirety of the sand until he emptied out his hand and your ichor charges forward, its light like a bud flaring open beneath your skin. And you're floating on that sea in paradiso, your braid adorned with the wet petals that swims back and forth to his arm that holds your body steady upon the surface, the names of the Greek goddesses lining every perimeter, sinking within. 

You’ve become them, all over again. 

“Thank you, Ggukie,” you whisper, running your hand through the front bangs of his hair, gripping them. It’s as if you’re holding the petals. “I needed to hear that.” 

He pouts, touched by the love name. “I know. You need to rest now after such an emotionally exhausting day. No more tears, okay?” 

You nod, feeling whole, feeling like you can face tomorrow with more courage. “Okay.” 

You pout, mimicking him, asking for a kiss and he gives it to you in that same delicate manner, plunging the entirety of the summer’s heat, molded by his hands, into you, making it bearable for you. 

Looks at you for a long time, after. Smiling. 

“You know, I didn’t take a shower after the gym for you,” he says, quirking a smile on your face.

You’re intimately acknowledged with the reason why, yet still you ask: “Why’s that?” 

He reciprocates the smile. “I thought you’d help me wash up. My muscles are sore and all. I lifted the double amount of your body weight.” 

You bite your lip. You’re willing to wash every inch of him with your utmost care. You deem he deserves it for enlivening you, but you’d much rather stay here, inhaling that dizzying scent of him. 

“I’ll do that, but let’s stay here for a little while.” 

Jungkook nods, kissing your jaw before he finds a comfortable place on your bosom, listening to the rush of your ichor, the sun rays upon the sea of that paradiso, inching you closer and closer to God. Augments the ending of that Divine Comedy. 

Doesn’t lead you to the final installment of death, but pushes you to life full of that brisk wind, the humming of the sea and the song of swaying wildflowers. 

Holds your hand. 

Doesn’t let go. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

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[alba1221141]

Mary Janes

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

10

(T.W sexual content)

Jinx

She tasted like berries.

Sweet, but not in a fake, sugary way—real, ripe, and just a little tart. Like she’d bitten into something moments before and I was just catching the aftertaste.

It’s been hours, but I swear I can still feel the ghost of her lips on mine, still hear that little hitch in her breath when I pressed closer.

Fuck.

I flop back onto my bed, arm draped over my eyes, trying to will away the ridiculous grin stretching across my face.

It’s stupid.

I’m being stupid.

But my brain keeps looping it—her fingers in my hair, the way she shivered when I kissed down her neck, the way she didn’t pull away.

I run my tongue over my lips absentmindedly, half-expecting to taste her again.

I don’t, obviously.

But damn, do I want to.

I roll over onto my stomach, burying my face in the pillow, but I can’t seem to shake the feeling. That kiss—it keeps coming back, like a song stuck on repeat.

It’s like the air’s different now, charged in a way it wasn’t before. It’s heavier, thick with something I can’t name yet.

My mind spins with thoughts of her—Y/N, all quiet and measured and impossibly soft—yet when we kissed, she wasn’t like that at all.

She was there, fully present, her breath hot against my skin, her hands steady as they tugged at my hair.

I let out a frustrated sigh and punch the pillow beneath me. This isn’t helping. It’s just making me more wound up.

But the thought won’t leave me, won’t stop scratching at the back of my mind: What if she wants more? What if I want more?

I sit up and swing my legs off the bed, pacing back and forth. Fuck. What am I even supposed to do with this?

I know I’m a mess. I’m always a mess. But with her? I can’t stop thinking about how good it felt to have her close, to kiss her. It wasn’t just about the kiss itself, but everything around it—how she reacted, how her body moved, how I felt with her.

The problem is, I’m not sure if she feels the same.

I need to know.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

Y/N

It's pouring down. The sky is an endless wash of gray, with rain slashing against the windows like a thousand tiny blades.

The world outside feels muffled, like the storm’s swallowing everything whole, and inside, it’s just me, wrapped in the quiet of my room.

I’ve been staring at the books on my shelf, picking up one, setting it down, picking up another, but none of them seem to hold my attention. Not when my mind keeps drifting back to her.

To Jinx.

The way her lips felt, soft yet sure against mine. How everything inside me seemed to catch fire for just a second. I’ve been trying to tell myself it was nothing, just a moment, but it wasn’t just a moment. Not to me.

The sound of something scraping against my window shatters the silence, and my heart skips a beat. I stand up, instinctively moving toward the sound. When I reach the window and pull it open, I nearly stumble back in shock.

Jinx’s face peeks through the rain-soaked window, her eyes gleaming with that same wild energy I can never quite place.

Her lips curl into a mischievous grin, and without missing a beat, she launches into a dramatic, over-the-top quote. “It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. And none but fools do wear it, cast it off. It is my lady, O, it is my love!”

I blink, momentarily thrown off by her theatrical entrance. My pulse quickens, not just from the surprise but the way she’s looking at me, the intensity of her gaze almost too much to bear. “What… what are you doing?” I ask, trying to regain some semblance of composure, even as my heart hammers in my chest.

She just grins, that wide, almost-dangerous grin of hers, and without any hesitation, she climbs in through the window, her drenched clothes sticking to her like a second skin.

Water drips off her, splashing onto my floor, but she doesn’t seem to care.

"Jinx," I start, my voice tinged with concern, "You're going to freeze."

"Well, warm me up," she says, her voice playful, daring, and that's all it takes. Her lips are on mine again, sudden, hot, and desperate in a way that makes my breath catch.

It’s different this time—more urgent, more consuming. I don’t have time to think before her hands are pulling me closer, pushing me to match the intensity she’s giving. Her body presses against mine, the cold of the rain outside clashing with the heat building between us. The wetness of her hair still clings to her skin, but it’s all forgotten, lost in the wave of sensation that crashes through me.

I’m lost in the kiss, her taste, the way her lips mold to mine like we’ve done this a hundred times before, even though we haven’t. My pulse quickens, the tension in my chest tightening as her hand trails up to cup my face, her thumb grazing my cheekbone.

My hands slip beneath the drenched fabric clinging to her skin, slow, deliberate.

"You need to take these off," I murmur, feigning practicality. "You'll catch hypothermia."

I try to sound convincing. I really do. But she knows. I know.

I just want her bare.

A grin splits across her face, teasing and sharp. "You trying to get me naked, toots?"

Heat flares across my cheeks. "And what if I was?"

"Then I’d say—tit for tat."

I blink. "Pardon?"

"I’ll get naked if you do," she says, her dimples carving soft shadows into her cheeks.

Oh.

Oh.

I should hesitate. I normally would. I’ve never been bare before someone before. But it’s her. And like she said—tit for tat.

My hands abandon the hem of her soaked t-shirt and instead ghost over my own nightie. She watches, eyes heavy-lidded, something molten burning in their depths. My breath catches when the fabric pools at my feet.

"Tit for tat," I echo, waiting.

And she follows suit, peeling damp cloth from her skin, piece by piece, discarding them carelessly onto my carpet. There will be stains later. I don’t care.

I watch, entranced, as she strips away every obstruction—every piece of fabric separating us—until only her underwear remains.

Pink with blue stripes, painted onto her hips like a second skin.

I exhale sharply.

She tilts her head, lips curling into something feral. "You good, toots?"

I nod, unable to form words, and she laughs—soft, breathless—before stepping closer.

"Y/N—"

I look anywhere but at her. The floor. My hands. The storm outside. Anywhere but at her—

Her hips. Her thighs. Her waist. Her breasts—

"Y/N."

My name, insistent now, pulls my gaze up just in time for her hands to find my waist, for her lips to crash against mine.

I know what to do this time.

I part my lips, just slightly, and she takes the invitation without hesitation. Her tongue slips inside, and the sound that escapes between us—low, needy—is neither hers nor mine, but something we create together.

This is different.

Reading about this could never compare to living it.

I’ve read about moments like this, devoured words printed in delicate ink, tracing the whispered confessions of lovers between dog-eared pages. I know the rhythm of desire, the way books describe it—skin like fire, breath like smoke curling in the spaces between bodies, pleasure painted in prose so lush it drips like honey from the page.

But I had never truly understood it.

Not like this.

Not the way my pulse thrums in my throat, too loud, too fast. Not the way her lips press against mine with a hunger that words alone could never capture.

Stories told me what passion looked like—how it felt in theory. But they never prepared me for the way my body trembles beneath her touch, for the shiver that racks my spine when her fingers ghost over my skin.

They never spoke of how need coils in the gut like a living, breathing thing.

Or how lips taste different when they’re messy and desperate, when kisses are more than poetic metaphors—when they are real.

My knowledge of love, of lust, was shaped by carefully crafted scenes, lines of dialogue rehearsed in my head a thousand times over. But the script is gone now, torn from my hands, and all that remains is instinct.

Her.

Me.

My hands trace the curve of her spine, following the dip, the flare, until my fingers spread over the swell of her ass.

All her earlier bravado vanishes the second she whimpers against my mouth.

I drink in the sound, greedily, pulling her closer, deeper, until the need for air is secondary, insignificant compared to the press of her lips.

Then she shifts. Mimics my touch. Shoves me back—

My knees hit the edge of the bed, sending us toppling onto the sheets. She lands on top of me in a tangle of limbs, her body pressing into mine, and I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up—light, unrestrained, joy in its purest form.

The sound is stolen by her kiss.

She keeps kissing me, as if my lips hold answers to all her unspoken questions.

Perhaps they do.

When I pull back to catch my breath, I notice the smudge of deep mauve staining her lips—her lipstick smeared, ruined, evidence of the control we’ve long since lost.

Then her lips leave mine, trailing lower—

"Oh, oh—Jinx—"

I hardly recognize my own voice, wrecked and shameless as she marks my skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses along my neck. Searching. Seeking. Until—

She finds it.

A sound—practically sinful—rips from my throat, unbidden.

She stills, lifting her head from the crook of my neck to look at me.

Smug.

So insufferably smug that I don’t know whether to roll my eyes or kiss her senseless.

I choose the latter.

She snickers against my lips, the sound reverberating through me, sinking into my bones like warmth on a cold night.

"Y/N," she murmurs, so soft, so uncharacteristically tender that I melt beneath the weight of it.

"Jinx," I try to mimic the tone, sultry and smooth, but it betrays me—awkward, inexperienced.

She doesn’t mind.

She only smiles before resuming her path downward, lips pressing, teeth grazing, leaving behind welts I’ll wear like a brand.

Lower, lower still.

Her mouth ghosts down my stomach, past my navel, until she reaches the last barrier between us.

She pauses.

Faltering.

I had assumed—assumed she had done this before. But her hesitation speaks volumes.

"Jinx—" Her name leaves my lips breathy, pleading. She knows what I’m asking.

And so, slowly, she hooks her fingers beneath the waistband of my underwear, painted nails dragging against my skin as she tugs.

I giggle, lifting my hips to help.

This is vulnerability like I’ve never known, like I’ve never allowed myself before.

But it’s Jinx.

It’s Powder.

My Powder.

The damp fabric is discarded, forgotten. She wraps her arms around my thighs, pulling me closer, breath shaky as it fans over my heat.

She’s nervous too.

Then—

A warm exhale. A flick of her tongue, tentative at first, an exploration, a slow unraveling.

Then—she finds it.

Finds me.

Her lips close around my clit, sucking, hard—

A yelp tears from my throat, unfiltered, obscene, and it only spurs her on.

Her nails dig crescents into my thighs as she devours me, hungrily, desperately.

She wants to consume me whole.

And god—

She’s succeeding.

She tugs me closer, impossibly closer, her mouth sealing over me, sending white-hot pleasure searing through my spine.

My back arches, fingers tightening in the damp strands of her hair as my body succumbs, as I surrender.

As she ruins me.

"Oh—fuck, Jinx!"

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿

Jinx

She tastes fantastic—sweet and sharp, a flavor I could drown in, a craving I’ll never shake.

I pull her closer, teasing her with the slow drag of my tongue over her clit, just to see. Just to feel.

She responds beautifully.

Y/N’s back arches, hips pressing into my mouth, her voice slipping into something uncharacteristically filthy. If she could hear herself now, she’d blush to hell and back.

I slide lower, tongue dipping to where she’s already soaked, drinking in the proof of her pleasure.

“Fuck,” I breathe against her, the vibration making her thighs twitch, her body offering itself to me in trembling anticipation.

My eyes flick up—locking onto hers as I push my tongue inside.

"Jinx—holy shit!"

Her voice is wrecked, needy, breaking apart as I move, tongue and lips working in tandem to unravel her. She tries to hold my gaze, but she can’t—her head falls back, mouth parting in a soundless plea.

My fingers replace my tongue on her clit, circling, coaxing, guiding her higher as I devour every reaction, every desperate sound spilling from her lips.

She writhes beneath me, pressing her face into the pillow as if she can contain the pleasure, and it’s intoxicating.

And then—

My name, her voice breaking around it, slipping between variations, between love and abandon.

"Jinx—fuck! Pow, Powder!"

Her body bows, hands clutching the sheets with a desperation that might tear them apart, and I don’t stop.

I drink her in like she’s the sweetest sin, the most potent drug, something sacred.

Eventually, trembling hands pull at me, urging me up, and though I want to keep tasting, I relent.

I pout, but one look at her—soft, glowing, utterly undone—and I’m undone too.

I shift beside her, fingers slipping between hers, holding her, grounding her.

"You okay, toots?" I tilt my head, waiting. But she’s still floating, lost in the aftermath.

I grin, waving a hand in front of her dazed expression.

"Earth to Y/N."

She giggles, hazy, dreamy, nodding as if the world makes sense in this moment and this moment only.

"I've never been better," she murmurs, voice still syrupy and sweet.

She tugs me closer, pressing a kiss to my lips, and fuck—

I could stay like this forever.

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

authors note: they finally got 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂, hope you liked it ;)

please like and reblog <3

[chaaistained]

☕︎ my marauders dr; intro •°

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🗝️ you’ve now unlocked the recipe to my marauders dr ≈

name : julia ephemeri potter

age (when i shift) : 15 — i’m experiencing the whole slow burn.. and i just know it’s gonna be torture . but we persevere

— (when i post about my script) : most of the time, i’ll be talking about me from the ages of 16-21 onwards

occupation : student of witchcraft at hogwarts

+ (eventually) some form of adult occupation . i’ll edit this later i genuinely don’t know and i don’t need to know for good few years at least so..

details :

— house : gryffindor

— wand : sandalwood with a mermaid hair core , 9.5”

+ wand breakdown tbd

— patronus : brown bear / sable (undecided, i love both.. help)

— amortentia : ocean air , candle wax , musty paper

+ amortentia breakdown tbd

— fav subject : alchemy

— top subjects : (+ alchemy) ancient runes , charms , muggle studies

— pets : sadie / sadie sue (ginger tabby cat) , barnaby (brown barn owl , shared with james..)

side hobbies/hustles : gryffindor quidditch team seeker

+ (eventually) editorial team of the hogwarts herald

+ (eventually) prefect

s/o : regulus arcturus black ৻ꪆ

౨ৎ meet miss juju berry

an incandescence, forged of tart blood and a permeating sense of melancholy — she finds herself in a constant search, an unsolvable quest for meaning, latching onto anything that can define her identity and yet feeling irrevocably lost to herself — she is only the light, not the sun . she is only the shell, not the pearl . she is only the stain , not the blackberry

i unfurl into this reality with the kind of effervescence found in firewhiskey, a bubbling surprise of sorts, one that my own parents weren’t expecting. my mum calls me a gift, she calls my brother a blessing . i don’t know if the difference in term denotes a difference in how we’re perceived, and truth be told it drove me crazy as a kid and sometimes it still does but for whatever purpose or prosperity, the fates resolved that i was meant to be born and here i am

a toppling fire cracker of a girl, or so i’m told, i’m one of the rambunctious gryffindors that barrel down the marble hallways of hogwarts castle. i bunk with seven other girls, one of whom is my best friend — mary macdonald. along with the charming ravenclaw — emmeline vance — and a snark of a hufflepuff — hestia jones — the four of us can be found in various locations around the school campus; passed out in a heap on the softest patch of grass near the black lake , shooting pine cones over the whomping willow and keeping score of who gets the most over without the tree smacking them away , secluded in the third booth on the second floor of the library . our quills drying out while we distractedly ignore our transfiguration homework in favour of finding the right spell to conceal our carved names on the bottom of the booth’s oakwood table (the result of emmeline sneaking alcoholic butterbeer into the school, and a series of bad decisions later, we’d all drunkenly vandalised the furniture.. thankfully mcgonagall doesn’t know or i might lose my prefect badge)

with small flowers in my braid and golden earrings that shimmer as i shake my head, i slip between the sea of students with an ease that can only be spotted in the agile gait of a seeker. though, nothing about my speed on the ground can compare to that which i showcase when i’m hundreds of feet in the air, my broomstick being an extension of me, something i trust to a concerning degree, coming up with the sorts of tricks and techniques that would land me in the hospital wing if i wasn’t as good as i am. that attention to detail, the pedantic precision of my sight is also what makes me a renowned editor of the student body’s newsletter — a semi-professional scrapbook of a weekly issue, a holistic voice of all students from all houses . honestly it can be hard to maintain that harmony but perhaps that’s why dumbledore sanctioned the club, a forceful hand at coexisting

regardless, it’s the least of my worries, a pastime really, my main focus being the exceedingly irritating presence of a certain slytherin seeker, who grows more and more unbearable by the day, not to mention he’s constantly around, in almost all my classes, assigned to same hours of prefect patrol, not a moment of peace . and yet paired with that bothersome nuisance brews the burning desire to find out more

and if you want to know why, then i suppose you should keep reading

(merlin’s name, i can write intrigue splendidly, they should assign me as the journalist not just the bloody editor)

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

౨ৎ my black bird

a rising tide in his own right, he is determined to maintain what is deemed to be perfection, unwilling to admit that no two waves ever look the same, no two stars ever shine alike, there is no apex . and yet he tries. haunted by ancestry, rippling currents that pull him into the ravine of his family’s legacy, it’s a future he wishes to inherit whilst believing it impossible. until his brother abandoned his birthright and that status, that title, that name he always wanted to earn yet never actually trained for, was now his

that unassuming final breath before striking a curse, the calm interwoven with calamity, that’s what regulus feels in every waking moment .

there is a blurry haze of memories when he tries to decipher where it all began — did envy bleed out of him every time sirius entered the room and commanded attention with his mere presence? or was it admiration? did he love his brother or loath him? maybe neither, maybe both, maybe everything in between and nothing at all, it never made sense and it probably never will.

so then leaves the question of his own significance — fostered from birth? or handed down simply because he is the spare to the heir? in this instance both made sense but neither option would ever be clarified.

and so regulus chooses to not feel anything, reserve all emotions to be shared with a few select friends — evan and barty had a way about them, his laughter was not something he could hold back in their presence . dorcas founded a semblance of solitude even though the space was shared, as if their silence was a mutual understanding, a shorthand of sorts . pandora had the gift of gracing their group with his smile, he considered it a curse that she had such a superpower, to bring out these genuine joys in other people, but he knew she wouldn’t see it that way — those were his people

not his brother . who he shifted his eyes to look away from whenever they passed each other .. only to turn back and glance over his shoulder, observing the elder son’s movements, wishing he’d turn back too, and then hurriedly clenching his fist, squashing the thought before it even had the chance to breathe

not his parents . who stood tall yet hollow, ghosts of who they were before their family was “torn apart” according to them, holding metaphorical goal posts only to keep moving them higher and higher every time regulus attempted to score, before tutting as he slipped and fell, unable to maintain the impossible altitude of their expectations

no. his people were his friends, the people who could mellow out his misgivings, erode his stone walls

and yet, those stone walls remain intact, erosion takes time.

unless of course someone me shattered the very structure of his world view, erupting his life into firework flurries of emotions, clandestine nights, musty sunrises drenched in dew drops and fog, leaving a wafting air about the world, scented jasmine and blackberry, amber gold flecks embedded inside twin irises . the kind of beauty that haunts his dreams and burns fire in his heart

he really should not be giving in to such a tragically stupid connection, not when majority of the time is spent bickering amongst dusty textbooks, whispering shouts bouncing off cold castle walls in the middle of the night, hexes spewing back and forth before finally forfeiting from fear of being caught .. that isn’t what he should want

he shouldn’t want anything

and yet he does

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

౨ৎ candlelit hearts

sinking into an unknown abyss, falling from the sky with a smile on your face while the halo around your head crackles, wax dripping down the curve of your back, you were destined to fall, that’s what you are meant to do, that’s who you are meant to be — a tidal wave tore through your heart, engulfing you entirely and yet you let yourself descend deeper and deeper — for reasons unknown, you found a companion in the darkness, a fire in the flesh, a home between interlaced fingers, foreheads pressed together and a single flickering candle flame that burns bright from the magic of your shared love

it’s funny, when i look back at it. because i suppose we always knew the other existed, but i only really met him when i was 13..

whatever classes we shared before, whatever moments were missed where we walked past each other through hallways or on moving staircases, those never really registered.

i just remember the cold, the prickly sensation of snow on my bare fingertips, crunching under my feet, glittering from the shy slithers of sunlight that flitted through the bleak grey sky. the constant dinging bells, the sound of students exploring all that hogsmeade had to offer, and yet there we stood, facing each other in an alley between shops, frowning in a way that would become all too familiar in the years to come

for what it’s worth, it’s easy to dislike the guy — almost always beating me by a few marks, his facial expression was more than enough of a gloat in itself . creating nicknames for whatever trick i use in a quidditch match and always coming up with a counter move (he can’t ever let me win. personally speaking, of course, i win plenty of matches) . it’s always something with him, and whatever quick bursts of emotion i bring out are hurriedly buried under a blank expression and a tired, almost uninterested visage that boils my blood in a way i cannot possibly describe . and yet i find myself thinking about it, about him, in the ungodly hours of the night.. only to get back at him of course

and it isn’t as if i can speak for him, for the longest time i had no clue what he’d be thinking no matter how long i stared, trying to decipher his thoughts.. but i’d be an idiot to have not noticed a change — the way he would walk through life with a strive to prove himself and yet constantly controlling how much of that ambition he could show.. living each day almost half present, half minded, elsewhere entirely, focused on a far reaching future as if it was right around the corner

he wasn’t like that anymore, he seemed to flourish, to spark, to appear alive . but only when teetering on the tightrope of an improbable partnership, an impossible romance, a strange little love story written between the aged cushions of an abandoned couch, in a hidden lounge, behind an old potions classroom — we found it together . or, more so, we argued and raced to unlock the door first, but regardless, it was our space . a space in which the kindling fire of an unlikely friendship would blossom into something greater than i could ever hope for

and when the mysteries within the castle walls start to crack through, when the secrets between the students stir the cauldron of rumours, and the history of influential families begins to pull itself up from the grave .. i guess it’s not so surprising to admit, but someone as curious as me, paired with someone as persistent as regulus? it’s no big shock that we find ourselves in the middle of such a storm

one transmutation away from uncovering the truth, waking up old bones, and burying the new ones

don’t swallow the tea leaves ! for they leave you a message 🍂

the people have spoken (i’m referring to the poll) and so i post ^this .. it did take a while bcs of numerous reasons that i don’t want to go into but anyway, i adore this dr so so much and i’ve worked so hard on the fic version of it T^T however it is a bit too traumatic for me to actually live out so .. this dr is slightly more tame — i just want to relive high school in hogwarts with the people that helped me through a lot of the shit i faced when i was in high school and they were merely characters on a screen — although, i can’t help myself, there are a few mysteries and bouts of intrigue to keep me entertained, i just .need to figure out what.. i could leave it up to my subconscious but . i don’t wanna do that ≈

chaai brews; tea assortments — dr archive

2025 © chaaistained

[xoxochb]

percy jackson master list ୨୧ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

♪ ༘⋆ you came out of the blue like that!

blurbs ✧˖°

. don’t blame me love made me crazy

. I was enchanted to meet you

. you are in love, true love

. but I know I had the best day with you today

. morning loneliness comes around when I’m not dreaming about you

. now he’s thinkin’ ‘bout me every night

. I would fall from grace just to touch your face

. do I love him? do I hate him? I guess it’s up and down

. a band aid and a kiss

. when you aim at the devil make sure you don’t miss!!

. kiss it better? part two

. promises part 2

. pro tip: don’t study with your boyfriend!!

. maroon

. sun kissed

. loverboy and hatergirl

. you drew stars around my scars

. like flowers in your hair

. he was a skater boy, she said ‘see you later, boy’

. she was a girl, he was an idiot

. days blend to one

. the little mermaid

. diet pepsi

. the morning after

. certified music addict

. domesticity

. silver soul

. trick r treat

. little miss clumsy

. I can see you

. hot summer nights, mid july

. ocean lovers

. my good looking boy

. this love is ours

. I walked with you once upon a dream

. infirmary’s favorite patient

. birthday offerings

. that one convo

. sunburnt

. assorted berries

. prettiest eyes (ever seen)

. new york city

. guilty as sin? ꨄ︎

. wildest dreams ꨄ︎

. is it a crime to say I still miss you?

. saturdays are for sleeping in (or not) part two

. lavender haze ꨄ︎

. delicate (isn’t it?) ꨄ︎

. midnights like this

. inseparable idiot

. polar bears (or are they?)

. short n sweet ꨄ︎

. types of galaxies

. summer song

. cordiform pizzas just for you!

. hot as hell!

. untitled blurb ꨄ︎

. horror geek of a girlfriend!

. glitch ꨄ︎

. ice cube of a girlfriend

. cabin three

. untitled blurb ꨄ︎

fics ✧˖°

. a moment of warm sun

. looking at you got me thinking nonsense

. all because I liked a boy

. this love left a permanent mark

. to love a soul

. king of my heart

misc (hcs + series) ✧˖°

. sweet tea in the summer

. I’d stop the world and melt with you

. there is thunder in our hearts

. the one (master list) <- authors fav!

. feet on the dashboard, he’s like a poem I wish I wrote!!

. better than the movies (master list)

. random hcs

. untitled untitled 2 untitled 3

. cinnamon girl

. lust for life

. you must like me for me

. that silly tiktok trend

. rainbows, sunshine, and everything nice!

. here comes the sun

. pretty in pink

. wonderland (master list)

[halloweennymph]

love story

unicorn x f! reader

Summary: maybe getting married to the lonely unicorn isn’t as bad as you think…

Warnings: arranged marriage, blood/scars, blowjob.

A/N: this is just a little fic that’s been hidden in my drafts for a while, hope you like it, if this gets a lot of notes then i’ll write more!! <3

This happens every year. When spring comes, the lonely unicorn who roams the dangerous woods and protects your village from the werewolves, always asks for something in return. It used to be fresh fruits, furs for the winter or gold.

But this year he wants something different. A beautiful virgin to keep him company.

Of course, you are the one who gets chosen. Your family prepares you, dressing you with a flimsy dress that barely covers your fragile figure, and adding some gold necklaces and a flower crown on your head. Then, the whole village takes you to the woods and leave you there, alone, praying that the heartless beast takes it easy on you.

A few minutes go by, and then you see him. The unicorn stands there, just a couple of feet away, and fear rushes through your veins. He’s big, bigger that the horses that you used to see on the village, his horn looks extremely lethal and horrible scars ruin his shiny white fur.

When he comes near to you, you don’t say a thing, just drop to you knees before him, expecting to be treated like nothing but a cheap whore.

But, to your surprise, he’s not violent or ruthless like all those stories that you’ve heard since you were a little girl. Instead, he’s kind, and talks to you in a sweet tone, letting you know that you’re now safe with him, as his wife.

Still, you are pretty nervous about it. Your hands shake and you heart beats fast, but you dare to touch him, caressing his soft nose.

After that, he lets you ride him, and then starts galloping with you on his back, taking you to your new home in the deepest part of the woods. It’s a cozy hut built with rocks and wood, spacious for the both of you, and incredibly warm inside thanks to the hay and furs that he keeps there.

And such a drastic change in your life is nothing easy, actually it’s a little bit awkward for both of you at the start. But soon you get used to each other, gaining trust and catching some… feelings.

You start learning his habits, gathering his favorite berries and tending his wounds every time he comes home after a bloody fight against the werewolves. The first time in his life where he feels how it is to be cared for. And in return, he protects you -in a possessive way- and gives you everything you may want and need, even making a deal with the fairies so they create the most beautiful dresses and tiaras just for you.

It’s not a bad life after all. What else could you ask for if he already spoils you and treats you better than any human man?

One day, he takes you to the nearest river for a much needed bath, and guards you from the shore. He stays under a tree, and you carefully get into the crystal water, enjoying the cool of it as you rinse your hair and body.

You didn’t think much of it, completely forgetting about the effects that you may cause on your now husband. So, when you look back to see if he’s still there, you immediately notice something different, something that makes you feel a tingle between your legs.

He is still standing under the tree, with his cock out and fully hard, making it bounce against his belly to create just a slight friction, clearly enjoying the sight of your naked body.

And you can’t leave him there to deal with something that you caused.

Getting out of the river, you approach him, caressing the soft fur of his neck as if you were asking for permission. Then, you crawl under him, using a finger to trace the prominent vein on his pink velvety cock.

“You don’t need to do it” he says in a low tone, not really wanting to taint your purity so soon. “I can take care of it myself”.

“But i want to” you answer eagerly. “Please let me make you feel good”.

Without exchanging any other word, you take his enormous length with both of your hands, pumping it slowly, just trying to figure it out and do your best to pleasure him.

And he twitches at the feeling of your delicate hands around him, dripping precum out of his slit, but you know that he needs more stimulation if you want him to finish. So, even though you can’t fit him into your mouth, you kiss and lick the flared tip of his cock, tasting the sweet droplets of arousal.

It’s a filthy act, so much that if the fairies saw just a glimpse of it they would cover their eyes out of pure shame, but none of you care, specially not him.

He’s getting close, you can feel it it the way he throbs and his muscles tense. So you keep going, all sloppy and messy, until he gets to his powerful orgasm, spurting ropes of hot cum all over your mouth and chest.

It’s thick and sticky, with a beautiful pearl color that almost looks glittery, and for a second you think how pretty it would look on your skin if you rubbed it like moisturizing cream.

But, for now, you let go of his softening cock and get out under him, making your way to the river again, this time inviting him to join you in the water instead of just watching from afar…