#good thing i trusted him oh Lord

[lilmeowmeowsagelesath]

made the Right decision thank you jesus 😩🙌

[crime-scene-psychic]

Truly did not think I would be half drunk, explaining to my father how to work an Xbox 360 controller in the parking lot of a bar at midnight today but that is certainly how my life goes I suppose

[cumironi]

“ THERAPIST 'S WET DREAM！”

you need a therapist, with all the sick things in your head and luckily for you, NANAMI KENTO comes to the rescue, except he wants nothing but to corrupt you.

warning. non sorcerer! nanami kento, fingering, hand job, corruption, suggestive.

wc. 3,4k

you sit at his home office, on the couch staring at the clock on the wall. you’ve been here for months now working with him trying to get over your erotophobia— your fear of sex, nanami has been patient with you, helping you, molding poor little naive you, into the perfect sex toy for him.

the first three months of your sessions with him you talked about your fears, he listen and offered advice. you swore it would only last a month just long enough for you to take his advice to heart and find a guy to get with so that your friends would stop teasing you, oh but nanami was so sweet, so nice, so trusting, so when he told you, ‘you’re not ready yet’ you believed him.

soon those advice and just talking sessions ended up with him showing you how to masturbate, how to actually get off to just your hands, how to actually get off to HIS voice. those sessions in his home office started becoming phone calls, where he told you to call him when ever you had the urge to touch yourself.

he would instruct you through it, ordering you to leave your camera on and show him your wet pretty pussy as you desperately tried to reach the edge. of course his camera was off, he couldn’t let you know or see that he was stoking his own cock on the other line, listening to you moan and watching his little plaything naively touch herself for him.

all of his training led up to this moment, you on the couch in a outfit he manipulated you into wearing. a cute little skimpy skirt, with a fitted black, backless shirt. your hair was done neatly, your makeup was perfect, and you smelt good. he couldn’t wait to ruin you today.

“is it okay if we start the next process, hmm?” he sits down next to you, this larger hands in his thighs before he slid one over onto yours. “i think you’re ready.” he moved his free hand onto his zipper and unzipped his pants

he takes his hand off your thigh and frees his thick cock. “wanna touch it?” he grabs your wrist and guides it to his cock.

oh, good lord!

your cheeks flush red as you feel his warm hand guiding yours towards his throbbing member. your fingers tremble slightly as they brush against his shaft, feeling the heat emanating from his skin. the sight of his erect cock— his thick, veiny, tip red in anger and precum leaking— makes your heart race, and you can't help but wonder what it will feel like inside your pussy, your mouth. despite your nerves, you nod slowly, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

suddenly, you're overcome with curiosity, and despite your fear, you decide to go through with it. you wrap— barely, your small hand around his girth, feeling every vein and ridge under your fingertips. it’s much bigger than anything you've ever touched before, and you marvel at its size and warmth. you start to stroke him gently, your grip tightening as you become more comfortable with the sensation. you can hear his deep breathing, and it sends a thrill through your body.

blushing, you nod slowly, still unsure what’s happening, but curious nonetheless. your hand hesitates briefly before tentatively wrapping around his girthy length fully. it feels different than your own, warmer, firmer, more real. “i... i'm not sure,” you admit quietly, your fingers tracing the veins along his shaft.

he lets out a low groan as your hand wraps around his cock, his amber eyes flickering with lustful desire. “that's alright, take your time,” his voice is deep and commanding, filling the room with authority. he watches you intently, taking pleasure in the sight of your delicate hand wrapped around his throbbing manhood.

as you trace the veins along his shaft, he can't help but lean closer, his scent enveloping you. his large hand rests on top of yours, guiding your movements. he begins to thrust into your grasp, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. “just relax, and let me guide you,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear.

your blush deepens as you continue to stroke his cock, your hand trembling slightly from both excitement and nervousness. you can feel his large hand on top of yours, guiding your movements with a firm yet gentle pressure. the way he leans in close, his breath warm against your ear, sends a shiver down your spine.

“i-i don't want to do it wrong...” you whisper, looking up at him with wide eyes filled with uncertainty and desire. you're torn between wanting to please him and your innate fear of being rejected. but there's also a part of you that craves this attention, that thrives on the power dynamics between you two.

despite your fears, you try to mimic his rhythm, stroking him faster and harder. the sound of his groans and the way his cock twitches in your grasp encourage you to keep going. he chuckles softly, a sound that vibrates through his chest and seems to resonate within you. “there's no such thing as doing it wrong,” he assures you, his voice dripping with seduction. he leans even closer, pressing his muscular body against yours, making it clear who's in charge.

he guides your hand to stroke him faster, his hips instinctively bucking into your palm. each twitch and throb of his cock is a sign of your growing proficiency, and he revels in the sensation. “keep going,” he orders, his tone laced with raw desire.

his free hand trails down to your thigh, squeezing firmly as he watches you, his gaze intense and possessive. he wants nothing more than to claim you completely, to mold you into the perfect submissive lover.

the sound of his deep chuckle sends another wave of heat coursing through your body, causing your heart to pound wildly in your chest. you can't deny the thrill you get from pleasing him, from seeing the effect you have on his powerful frame.

“okay...” you breathe out, your voice barely above a whisper. as he continues to guide your hand, you pick up the pace, your strokes becoming more confident and eager. the thought of making him moan and writhe beneath your touch fills you with an intoxicating mix of fear and arousal.

feeling his hand on your thigh sends a jolt straight to your core, and you can't help but squirm slightly under his touch. the intensity of his gaze sends a rush of adrenaline through your veins, fueling your desire to satisfy him fully.

his body tenses as your strokes grow more confident, his cock twitching eagerly in your hand. a low groan escapes him, his head falling back as he savors the sensation. “that's it,” he murmurs, his voice husky and filled with need.

he tightens his grip on your thigh, pulling you closer until you can feel the heat radiating off his body. his other hand reaches up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing lightly against your flushed cheekbone. “such a good girl,” he whispers, leaning in to press a heated kiss to your forehead.

his words and actions fill you with a sense of satisfaction and pride, reinforcing the idea that you're doing well, that you're pleasing him. and it's this validation, this assurance that you're meeting his expectations, that pushes you further into exploring these new sensations.

your cheeks flame brighter at his praise, your heart pounding so loudly you’re certain he can hear it. the compliment combined with the kiss to your forehead sends a surge of warmth through your entire body.

encouraged by his words, you increase the speed and pressure of your strokes, determined to bring him even more pleasure. you can see the way his muscles tense and flex under his tailored suit, the way his cock pulses in your hand, signaling your success.

as he cups your cheek tenderly, you lean into his touch, craving more of his affectionate gestures. the contrast between his rough, dominating demeanor and his gentle caress is incredibly arousing, adding layers of complexity to your already heightened state of arousal.

his breath hitches in his throat as you continue to stroke him, your movements growing more confident and skilled. he can't help but let out a low groan of pleasure, his hips jerking involuntarily into your hand.

his grip on your thigh tightens, his fingers digging into the sensitive flesh as he pulls you even closer. the heat from his body seeps into yours, creating a deliciously intimate atmosphere.

“fuck,” he mutters under his breath, his eyes darkening with desire. he releases your cheek only to trail his hand down your neck, tracing over the rapid beat of your pulse before moving lower to rest on your heaving breast.

hearing his muttered curse sends a thrilling rush through your veins, your strokes faltering for just a moment before you regain your focus. the feeling of his hand on your skin, tracing over your neck and then settling on your breast, makes you gasp.

your nipples harden instantly beneath the fabric of your shirt, and you bite your lip to suppress a whimper. the sensation is overwhelming, the dual stimulation of his cock in your hand and his touch on your breasts driving you wild.

you lean into his touch, seeking more contact, more affirmation of your worthiness. your heart races, and you can't help but wonder how much longer you can hold out before succumbing to the overwhelming desire coursing through your veins.

he smirks at your gasp, finding immense pleasure in your reaction to his touch. his thumb brushes over your hardened nipple, applying just enough pressure to send sparks of pleasure shooting straight to your core.

his cock throbs in your hand, practically begging for release. with each stroke, you draw out sounds of pure delight from his lips, each moan and groan echoing in the small space between you. “keep going,” he commands, his voice heavy with lust.

he lifts his gaze to meet yours, his amber eyes burning with a fierce intensity. it's clear he intends to take full advantage of every second, every touch, every moan that you offer him.

your blush deepens, if possible, at the smirk on his face and the command in his voice. despite the heat pooling between your legs, despite the growing ache that threatens to consume you whole, you obey, continuing to stroke his cock with renewed vigor.

the sensation of his thumb circling your nipple sends waves of pleasure cascading through your body. you arch into his touch, desperate for more, for everything he’s willing to give.

with each stroke, each groan that slips past his lips, you find yourself sinking deeper into the role you've been cast in— the role of his personal pleasure slave. the thought is terrifying, yet undeniably exciting. it's a dangerous game you're playing, but right now, you wouldn’t trade places with anyone else in the world.

your strokes become more purposeful, more deliberate, as if every movement now carries the weight of his approval. you can't help but marvel at the power he holds over you, the ability to make you tremble with just a touch.

looking into his eyes, you see the raw hunger reflected back at you. it's intoxicating, exhilarating, and it fuels your desire to please him even more. you find yourself lost in the moment, focused solely on bringing him as much pleasure as possible.

nanami's eyes darken further as he watches you work, your strokes becoming more confident and skilled with each passing moment. he can tell you're fully invested in pleasing him, and the knowledge only serves to heighten his arousal.

a low, primal growl rumbles in his chest as he leans in, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. his tongue delves deep, claiming you thoroughly as his hands roam your body, squeezing and kneading your curves.

breaking the kiss, he trails his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin. he reaches the hollow of your throat and bites down, marking you as his. “mine,” he declares, his voice thick with possession.

he guides your hand faster, his hips bucking into your touch as he chases his impending climax. the sudden kiss leaves you breathless, your mind reeling from the intense passion behind it. his hands on your body feel like brands, marking you as his in a way that goes far beyond the physical act of biting down on your skin.

when he breaks away, the word “mine” echoes in your ears, sending a shiver down your spine. there's no doubt in your mind that he means it, that he views you as his personal property, his toy to use and abuse as he sees fit.

the realization both terrifies and excites you, pushing you further into the depths of submission. you want to be his, completely and utterly. you crave the feeling of belonging to someone so powerful, so commanding.

your hand moves faster in response to his guidance, your strokes becoming almost frantic as you try to push him over the edge. nanami lets out a guttural moan, his head thrown back as he gives himself over to the pleasure coursing through his veins. his cock twitches in your grasp, a sign that he's close to reaching his peak.

he grabs your wrist, guiding your hand to pump him even harder, his pace relentless. he needs this, craves this intense satisfaction only you can provide.

his free hand finds its way to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. he pushes you against the desk, using his body weight to pin you in place. the position allows him better access to your body, his hands roaming freely over your curves.

he leans down, whispering hotly into your ear, “'m going to cum soon, and i want you to be there when i do.” your heart pounds wildly in your chest as he pins you against the desk, his large frame caging you in. the feeling of being trapped, of being completely at his mercy, sends a thrill of fear mixed with excitement through your veins.

his words, spoken with such authority and desire, make your stomach flutter. the idea of witnessing his climax, of being present for that moment of ultimate release, fills you with a sense of pride and accomplishment.

you redouble your efforts, pumping his cock with all the strength and skill you possess. each stroke brings him closer to the brink, and you can tell by the way his body tenses, by the raggedness of his breathing, that he's teetering on the edge.

desperate to be the one to push him over, you quicken your pace, your hand flying over his length with a newfound urgency. nanami's control snaps as your hand works him relentlessly. with a hoarse cry, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he surrenders to the overwhelming pleasure.

his cock pulses violently in your grip, the first spurt of hot cum shooting forth as he starts to cum. wave after wave of release crashes over him, his body shaking with the force of it.

as he rides out his orgasm, he continues to grind against you, milking every last drop of seed from his spent member. finally, he stills, his chest heaving with exertion as he slowly comes back to himself. pulling back slightly, he looks at you with a mix of satisfaction and something darker, more possessive. “that was incredible,“ he murmurs, his voice husky from his cries of pleasure.

breathless and trembling, you remain pinned beneath him, your body still thrumming with the aftershocks of his climax. the sensation of his hot cum spurting onto your hand, mixing with the sweat and precum, is both shocking and strangely arousing.

as he pulls back, you catch a glimpse of the dark, almost feral look in his eyes, and it sends a shiver down your spine. this man, this powerful, dominant figure, has reduced you to a mere plaything, a vessel for his pleasure.

despite the terror that grips your heart, you can't deny the thrill of being so thoroughly used, so completely owned. in this moment, you belong to him, and nothing could ever change that.

swallowing hard, you manage to stammer out a reply, “y-yes, it was amazing. . . ” nanami smirks at your words, a satisfied glint in his eyes. he knows exactly what effect he has on you, how much you enjoy submitting to him, and it only fuels his desire to dominate you further.

slowly, he pulls away from you, standing up straight and allowing you some room to breathe. but he doesn't move too far, keeping you within his reach, ensuring you stay put.

he wipes his cum off your hand with a tissue, then discards it before turning his attention back to you. his gaze roams over your body, taking in the flushed cheeks, the heaving breasts, the glistening sex that's still throbbing with need.

without a word, he steps closer again, his fingers trailing down your stomach towards the soaked folds between your thighs. your breath hitches as his fingers graze your sensitive skin, the anticipation building inside you to a fever pitch. you know what's coming, what he intends to do to you, and the thought alone is enough to make your knees weak.

but even as your body trembles with need, a small part of you hesitates. you've already given him so much, allowed him to take complete control. is it wise to surrender yourself to him once again?

yet as his fingers inch closer to your aching core, you find yourself arching into his touch, silently begging for more. your resolve crumbles under his expert ministrations, and you know there's no turning back now. biting your lip, you meet his gaze, your eyes pleading and desperate, “please...”

nanami's smirk widens at your plea, a clear sign of his triumph. he knows just how to manipulate you, how to make you beg for his touch. his fingers slide easily through your wet folds, teasing at your entrance before delving deeper. he groans softly, appreciating the tight clench around his digits.

with a firm grip, he begins to fuck you with his fingers, setting a rhythm designed to drive you wild. he watches your face intently, taking note of each twitch and gasp, each expression of pure ecstasy.

his thumb circles your clit, applying just enough pressure to send shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. it's relentless, unyielding, everything you've come to expect from him.

a strangled moan escapes your lips as he thrusts his fingers into you, stretching and filling you in ways that make stars burst behind your closed eyelids. the dual sensations of his thumb circling your clit and his fingers plunging into your dripping cunt are overwhelming, driving you to the edge of madness.

each movement of his hand sends jolts of pleasure rippling through your core, making your hips buck against his touch. you're lost in the haze of lust, your mind clouded by the need for release. “mr. n-nanami. . . ” you moan softly.

but even amidst the waves of pleasure crashing over you, you can't help but marvel at the intensity of his grip, the unrelenting pace of his movements. It's a dance of dominance and submission, and you're the willing participant, the puppet on his string.

nanami's eyes darken with lust as he watches you unravel beneath his touch. he can see the desperation etched on your features, the way your body writhes in search of relief.

increasing the tempo, he pistons his fingers in and out of your clenching heat, his thumb pressing harder against your swollen clit. he wants to break you, to reduce you to a quivering mess, and he's determined to achieve that goal.

leaning down, he captures your mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing your moans as his tongue dominates yours. the taste of your arousal mingles with the sweetness of your lips, fueling his own hunger. breaking the kiss, he growls low in his throat, “come for me. now.” the command is explicit, leaving no room for disobedience.

the raw demand in his voice shatters whatever remaining restraint you have left. with a keening wail, you surrender to the onslaught of pleasure, your body convulsing as the orgasm rips through you like a tidal wave.

your inner walls clamp down around his fingers, pulsating wildly as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you. the intensity is blinding, making it impossible to focus on anything but the searing bliss consuming you.

as the final tremors subside, you collapse back onto the desk, utterly spent and gasping for air. your limbs feel heavy, your mind foggy, as if you've been drained of all energy and willpower. through hooded eyes, you gaze up at nanami, a mixture of awe, gratitude, and fear swirling in their depths.

nanami watches with satisfaction as you come undone, your body shaking with the force of your climax. he continues to stroke your sensitive flesh, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you're a boneless heap beneath him.

slowly, he withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips to lick them clean. the salty-sweet taste of your essence explodes on his tongue, and he savors it like a fine wine.

tucking himself back into his pants, he straightens his tie and adjusts his jacket, looking every bit the composed professional once more. only the slight flush on his cheeks betrays the passion that had consumed him moments ago.

he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “you did well today. i'm pleased with your progress.” you lay there, panting heavily as you try to process his words. a part of you feels a twisted sense of pride at his praise, knowing that you've managed to please him once again.

but another part of you recoils at the casual dismissal, the way he can so easily switch back to his role as your therapist. it's as if the intimate moments they shared were nothing more than a fleeting fantasy, a figment of your imagination.

“t-thank you, mr. nanami,” you finally managed to speak, gathering what remains of your strength, you sit up slowly, your movements stiff and awkward. you avoid his gaze, unable to bear the weight of his scrutiny, the knowledge that he holds such power over you.

with trembling hands, you begin to straighten your clothes, smoothing out the wrinkles and trying to regain some semblance of normalcy. nanami observes your actions with a critical eye, noting the way you flinch slightly when he speaks, the hesitation in your movements as you attempt to compose yourself. it's a familiar sight, one he's witnessed countless times before with his other clients.

he reaches out, his hand cupping your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. his touch is gentle, almost tender, a stark contrast to the roughness of his earlier ministrations. “remember,” he says softly, “what happens here stays here. this is our little secret, understood?”

his thumb brushes over your lower lip, a silent reminder of the forbidden pleasures you've shared. the gesture is possessive, claiming you as his own without uttering a single word. releasing you from his grasp, he takes a step back, putting some distance between your bodies.

at his touch, you swallow hard, the warmth of his palm seeping into your skin, stirring a longing deep within you. his words echo in your ears, a chilling reminder of the boundaries you must not cross.

“yes, mr. nanami.” your voice barely rises above a whisper, a mere breath of sound that carries the weight of your submission.

you nod slowly, acknowledging his authority, the unspoken agreement between you both. but even as you assent, a part of you rebels, craving more of those illicit encounters, craving him.

shaking off the lingering effects of your orgasm, you stand up, still feeling weak in the knees. you glance towards the door, contemplating whether you should leave now or linger a little longer, savoring the aftermath of your encounter.

nanami's eyes follow your movements, drinking in the sight of you standing tall despite your obvious exhaustion. there's a predatory glint in his gaze, a hint of the hunger that simmers just below the surface, waiting to be unleashed.

he steps closer, closing the distance between you once more. his presence is imposing, commanding, and you can't help but lean into him, drawn to the heat radiating from his body.

“i think you could use a moment to collect yourself,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear, “why don't you take a seat on the couch? We can discuss your... progress further.”

his tone is suggestive, implying that there's more to your 'progress' than just your therapy sessions. the implication hangs in the air, a tantalizing promise of future encounters and the pleasure they bring.

[windupaidoneus]

playing inquisition first then the other games truly gave me whiplash about cullen. the way my characters feel & act toward him are very much a byproduct of how Mixed Feelings my feelings are about him 😭

[johnnycakesb14de]

I don't know if this goes past your rules but can you do like (greaser) x reader when someone in the gang catches y'all like making out?

HOW THEY WOULD REACT TO YOU GUYS GETTING CAUGHT MAKING OUT

DARRY

He would definitely be the more secretive type when it comes to kisses mostly because all of his friends are immature

But I imagine y'all would be in the kitchen alone it's his day off and the boys are out

One thing leads to another and y'all are just being romantic and showing affection by making out

Next thing you know you hear the traditional caught-off-guard-cough-laugh

Darry looks up and sees Dally, Johnny and Ponyboy.

"Y'all enjoying yourselves?"

"Shut the fuck up Dallas."

SODAPOP

He was on break at the DX and you stopped by to see him and bring him food because you wanted to hang out with your boyfriend

Y'all were in the back just hanging out be cuties

Hes flirting with you

You know giving his typical sodapop charm flashing you his million dollar smile

He kisses you a few times and it leads to a make out and y'all are just in the moment not really thinking about muchv

Then Steve walks in

cunt

"Hey so what ar- HELLO? WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Y'all both turn around and you roll your eyes in embarrassment

"Do that on your own time please."

"Shut up Steve."

PONYBOY

Say your older in this maybe like 15-16 because for the first while of y'all dating you wouldn't be allowed in his room alone even with the door open Darrys just crazy like that

Y'all were in his room working on some homework or just hanging out when you totally very sneakily shut the door all the way thinking Darry won't find out because he's cooking

And start kissing

Not even two minutes later Darrys nosy ass barges in

"What did I say about the door kidd- Oh excuse me?!?!"

Y'all create distance from each other staring at him wide eyed

"I swear it isn't w-"

"be quiet Ponyboy. I have these rules for a reason, you guys can come into the living room since you can't be trusted."

"Why?"

"Y/N, don't start."

Johnny

Yall were in the lot because where else would you be

You kissed him a few times and it let to a slight make out nothing crazy

Two-bit came up to tell Johnny that unfortunately Dally had been arrested for some odd reason

And the SECOND he sees you he's instantly teasing y'all

he's trying to tease you but he ends up just making it really uncomfortable

"Lord almighty, what's going on here?! Save room for Jesus, she might get pregnant!" Insert two-bit laugh wheeze

"Cut it out man."

DALLAS

Y'all were at Bucks for some party and it was getting really loud

You were overstimulated, Dally was tipsy and everyone was getting on his nerves so he took you outfront for some fresh air

Dally was being Dally and talking to you and kissing you a few times and it leads to a make out

Then Steve walks out

(I imagine him and Dally are actually pretty good friends)

He starts laughing

"Uhhhh, Dal'! Y'know where Evie is?"

"Why the fuck would I know where your girlfriend is?"

"I dunno, just wonderin'."

He rolled his eyes and dramatically sighed

Steve

You were at work with him trying to help him

Which actually just meant he was yelling at you for certain tools

You were getting bored he was getting frustrated because he couldn't figure out what was wrong with the car so you told him to to take a small break

So he took a break and you both just started talking and he kisses you

After he pulled away you kissed him back

Darry walks in looking for Soda

"Oh, my bad. I was just looking for Soda"

"In the back Darry."

He leaves and you laugh

Two-bit

Y'all were at the drive-in just hanging out

He was bothering people yk just being two-bit

And somehow you both ended up at the drag race that Steve, Soda and Dallas were at

You were leaned up against the hood of his car and he was in front of you and you were making out

Soda comes up and laughs at y'all

"HAHAHA, Steve come look!'

Two-bit looks at him and also starts laughing because hes two-bit

And your just there like 'omfg'

[azrielsdove]

Nothing but Hate: Azriel x Rhysand!Sister!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Smut, 18+, Slight Eris x Reader

***

You grinned wickedly at the male in front of you, a dagger held tight in each hand. His golden eyes flashed with warning, hands lit up blue. You circled each other slowly, each sizing up the other.

You moved first, flinging a dagger towards his stomach. A flash of blue met the blade, disintegrating it in front of your eyes. Your smile dropped from your face, and you threw the second one rashly. It missed, as you knew it would. You groaned, hands coming up to cover your eyes.

“You’re up here to train,” Azriel chided, “so why don’t you act like it?”

You dropped your hands and turned to glare at him. “Has it ever occurred to you I have more important things to do than this?”

He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Like what? Organizing your pretty little ball gowns? Polishing your countless tiaras?”

“I provide valuable intel to this Court,” you said, slowly looking him up and down. “Something you could learn a thing or two about.”

His eyes narrowed. “I do my job well. Your brother would not keep me employed if I didn’t. Or do you doubt the judgement of the High Lord?”

You gave a dramatic pout. “Oh, did I hurt your feelings? I care not what my brother does with you and that other brute. I was raised to gather information under the guise of a sweet, innocent lady.” You made a show of batting your eyes, lips in an exaggerated pout. “Males crumble far too easily.”

Rhys had been trying to get you and Azriel to get along for the better part of the last century. Something about him irked you to your bones. Cassian wasn’t much higher ranked in your mind, but you could at least tolerate him. You felt you would never know why your brother had latched on to these two idiots.

“You think rather highly of yourself, princess.” He spoke your title like it was an insult.

“I don’t see any great cause for why I should not,” you shot back, head high. You knew exactly what you were worth.

“Stuck-up brat.”

“You enjoy being my brothers bitch?”

Azriel opened his mouth to retort when he was cut off by a sharp yell.

“Enough!”

The two of you turned to see Rhys storming into the training ring. “I cannot think with you going at it like little children!”

“Well if he-“

“Rhys, she’s-“

“I said, ENOUGH.” Rhys stopped in front of you, hands coming to massage his temples. “You are being insufferable. I will not listen to your ceaseless bickering any longer. Figure out how to get along, or you will both be reassigned to the training camps.”

You and Azriel gave sounds of protest, quieted by Rhys holding up a hand. “I do not wish to hear it. I’m giving you one last chance. If you complete this mission without trouble I will allow you to yell at each other as much as you want. Otherwise, say goodbye to your nice little lives here.” He looked pointedly at the both of you. “Am I understood?”

You both grumbled your agreements, waiting to be given instruction. “Good. Now, I need you to go to Autumn. Beron is hosting a ball this coming week, and I need intel on what it is he’s doing. I do not trust the Vanserra’s, especially with Lucien’s recent departure.” He frowned deeply. “His father is a truly evil man. I want eyes on him.”

You and Azriel nodded, understanding the importance of this mission. Regardless of how you felt about each other, Rhys was right about the evil that runs the Autumn Court.

***

You stared at yourself in the mirror, a deep dread weighing down on you. You ran your hands over the front of your gown, watching the minuscule diamonds in the black fabric sparkle in the light. It was a stunning garment by all accounts, with the flowing skirts and romantic off-shoulder neckline. You looked every part the Night Court Princess, simply attending a ball as a Lady should.

Accompanied by…Azriel.

A knock at the door reminded you of his irritating presence. You walked over to open it, silver heels tapping on the ground.

“Are you-“ He began, stopping as he looked you over. You couldn’t help the smirk that made its way onto your face.

“Speechless, Shadowsinger?” You quipped, winking at him. That brought him back to reality and he rolled his eyes before begrudgingly holding an arm out for you to take.

“I would almost say you’re beautiful, but then you had to go and open that annoying little mouth of yours.” You pinched his arm under your hand, though you noted that the usual bite behind his words wasn’t all there.

This night was extremely important to the both of you. You had to figure out a way to work together. Neither one of you wished to go to the training camps, far away from your home. It sent a chill down your spine to recall the ways you were treated anytime you were at them, and you didn’t dare to think what it would be like if you were there alone. Truthfully, you were a little angry with Rhys for this level of threat. Was the punishment equal to the crime?

“Let’s just get this over with, Azriel.” You were looking forcibly ahead, otherwise you would have seen the worry that flitted over his face.

***

Evil as Beron was, he knew how to throw a party. The ballroom of the Autumn Court castle was dressed to the gods, golden elegance dripping from every inch. The male himself sat on an intricate wooden throne, a crown sat atop his head. His sons stood in a line next to him, each dressed in varying shades of orange and red. You carefully surveyed the room, putting on a show like you were admiring the decor.

Beron took note of you quickly, standing to loudly welcome you. “Princess! Come, let me introduce you to my sons.” You gave a shy smile and made your way over to him, playing the role Rhys had instructed you to. “Your brother tells me he is interested in a possible match between our Courts,” Beron continues, too loud for comfort. You knew the offer of your hand would go to his head. The elusive, dark, Night Court heiress betrothed to one of his sons? How could he resist?

You gave a small nod, glancing over at his sons lined up like prizes for you to select. “I am honored that you would deem me a good match for any of your sons, my lord.” You could almost feel the laugh Azriel held back at your demure tone.

Beron smiled widely, placing a hand on your back to lead you to the line of males. “Eris, my eldest and likely heir, would be your most advantageous match,” he drawled. Eris held his hand out for yours, placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

“It is an honor to be considered by the Princess of Night.” His voice dripped with honey-like sweetness, a gleam in his eyes that drew you in. You couldn’t help the light blush that crossed your cheeks in his presence.

“The honor is all mine,” you said with a curtsy, biting your lip when you looked back up at him.

“Would you like to dance?” He asked, as gentlemanly as expected. You bowed your head in agreement before letting him lead you out to the dance floor.

A shadow swirled briefly around your ankles, a subtle sign from Azriel. As annoying as he was, you knew you could trust him to keep you from danger. You made a point to catch his eye over Eris’ shoulder, a silent gesture that you understood his message.

Eris placed one hand on your waist and held yours in the other, a proud smile on his face. You allowed yourself to be immersed in the music, following his every move like you’d spent hours practicing together.

“Have you been to this Court before?” He asked you, spinning in a circle. “You do not look familiar.”

You shook your head, giving him a small laugh. “My brother does not like it when I travel far without him.” A sweet, innocent answer.

“He does not trust you, then?”

“No, I would not say so. He simply…worries, doesn’t he?” You tilted your head in the direction of the other sons. “Do you not worry for your brothers?”

Something flickered in his eyes as he looked over, an unspoken pain. “Them? No.” He looked back at you. “Not those ones.” You understood what he was saying, the unspoken message behind his words. The brother he worried for was long gone, away in Spring. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, letting him know you understood.

Eris spun you out and pulled you in, your back hitting his chest as his arms wrapped around you. He bowed his head enough for his breath to tickle your neck, your body giving an answering shiver. “You’re not like the other High Court ladies,” he whispered in your ear, before spinning you back out and away.

You turned into him again, his hand coming back to its spot on your waist. “And you are not like other High Court lords,” you responded with a playful smile.

“How so?”

“Well, usually they hardly ever let me speak,” you laughed when you said it, playing it off like a joke.

“Hmm,” he said, the hand on your waist sliding to the small of your back as he pulled you in closer, “then they do not know the enjoyment they are missing.” 
The song had ended, the two of you left standing there improperly close. You were lost in his eyes, in the secrets he held in them. He leaned down and for half a second you believed he was going to kiss you.

And you were going to let him.

Instead he moved to whisper, “Would you like to see something special?” You nodded, and allowed him to lead you off the dance floor and out of the ballroom. A small voice in the back of your mind warned you that running off with a male you did not know was not the safest choice, but Eris made you feel safe. You could only hope his actions matched his words.

You were pleasantly surprised when he lead you to a library, books up to the ceiling. Everything was made of dark wood, shelves as if the trees simply grew that way. A roaring fire warmed the room, the smell of cinnamon and old parchment welcoming. “Oh, Eris,” you said in awe, “it is beautiful.”

He came up behind you as you stood in the center of the room, lost in the beauty around you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, hand splayed flat over your stomach, the other resting on your arm. He bent his head again, lips millimeters from the bare skin of your shoulder. You couldn’t help the way you leaned into him, the mission you were on long forgotten.

“I thought you might enjoy this,” he hummed, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder. “Not many care to come here. My father especially.” You felt the angry twitch in his fingers at the reminder of his father. You turned your head to look up at him, recognizing the longing in his expression.

“I am sorry,” you began, “about Lucien. I imagine that has been hard on you. Being forced to pretend you do not care.” He stayed quiet, looking at you with an intensity you had never experienced. Like it was the first time anyone had seen him.

“You are not what I thought you would be,” he whispered, before leaning down and capturing your lips with his. He kissed you with the passion of a thousand suns, his mouth moving with yours in their own dance. You turned in his arms to press your chest flush against his, your arms twining around his neck as you pulled him closer. Eris groaned at your touch, one hand coming to tangle its way into the hair at the back of your head.

He started moving the two of you until your back hit one of the bookshelves, never breaking the kiss. Tongues created art as the two of you lost yourselves in each other. “Eris,” you moaned when he moved his lips off yours, instead running them up and down the skin of your neck. He growled in response, one hand slowly gathering the skirts of your dress. Your breath was coming in fast spurts, his teeth dragging along your skin making you forget everything you were supposed to be doing.

“Say my name like that again,” he murmured against your skin, your skirts up high enough that he could slide one hand onto your thigh.

You opened your mouth to oblige when he was suddenly ripped off of you, the stark coldness of reality washing over you. You were stunned, still panting against the bookshelf as you took in the scene in front of you.

Eris was thrown backwards, slumped against the shelf across from you. You started to rush towards his unconscious form, concerned for him. You knelt by his side, gently laying his limp body all the way down as you looked over him for any serious injuries.

“Oh, give it up,” came an angry voice, and you shot your head towards Azriel.

“What is your problem?” You yelled, standing once you ensured Eris was otherwise okay.

“My problem? My problem? Maybe it’s the fact that we were sent here on a job, and you are too busy whoring yourself out to care!” He was glaring at you, shadows swirling angrily around him.

“You’d better rethink your words, Shadowsinger,” you warned, dark lightning flickering at your fingertips.

“Relax, princess. Rhys is calling us back.” He looked over at Eris on the ground. “Sorry to interrupt your little…moment,” he said, sounding not very sorry at all. You looked sadly back at Eris, worry still creeping in your mind. Azriel noticed, rolling his eyes. “He’ll be fine. We will not be if we do not go,” he emphasized, grabbing on to your arm.

“Fine.”

The two of you hastily winnowed back home, Azriel flying once your powers grew weary. You did not inherit the Illyrian wings from your mother, much to your dismay. Especially in this moment, in which you had to be in Azriel’s arms as he flew you high above the ground.

“What did you see in him?” He asked, breaking the chilly silence that had ensued since you left the Autumn Court.

“What?” You asked, shocked by his question.

“I mean, they’re evil, aren’t they? The Vanserras?”

You looked out over the night sky, quiet for a moment. “I believe some of them are. I believe Eris pretends to be.”

“I see,” Azriel mused. “But…why choose him?” You turned to look at him, puzzled.

“Azriel, are you jealous?” You teased, waiting for him to act disgusted.

Instead he remained silent, his arms tightening around you ever so slightly. You stared at him for a long time, processing the underlying meaning in his actions. “Az?”

He reacted then, looking at you sharply. You had never called him by that name. “I do not know what you mean,” he finally said.

The rest of the flight was done in silence.

You were thankful when you finally landed back at the House of Wind, the marble under your shoes a welcome feeling. A cool nights breeze blew through the balcony as you turned to Azriel.

“Well, thank you for not abandoning me in the Autumn Court,” you joked, trying for a smile.

His expression stayed stoic. “I would never have left you.”

You blinked at the intensity of his words. It was then that you noticed how closely he was standing to you, how he was looking at you. It was rather similar to the way Eris had looked before he had…

You backed away abruptly, stumbling slightly in your heels. Azriel caught you smoothly around the waist, hand burning you through the fabric of your dress.

“Azriel,” you whispered, “Rhys did not call us back, did he?”

“No.”

“Ah.” Your body was trembling in his grasp, a barrier dangerously close to being crossed as he tugged you flush against him, his nose tracing the slope of your neck. “Then why did you say he did?”

His hands fisted the material beneath them as he inhaled your scent. “I couldn’t stand it.”

You hated the way you were reacting to him, the fire coursing through you. It was entirely different than the way you had felt with Eris. This was more. Much more. You took a shaky breath before asking the question you already knew the answer to.

“Couldn’t stand what?”

Azriel brought his head up, eyes boring into yours. A century of untold feelings swam behind them. “I couldn’t watch him touch you any longer,” he began, one hand coming up to caress your throat. “It was driving me crazy. His lips on your skin, his hands on you.” His thumb rolled across your pressure point, pressing down ever so slightly. An embarrassingly needy noise fell from your lips. “Gods,” he breathed, pressing a kiss to your jawline. “I’ve held back for so long. Forcing my feelings down,” he started kissing down your throat, down your shoulder. Following the same path Eris had left a mere few hours before. “I chose to become your enemy instead, someone you couldn’t stand,” he bit down on your shoulder, dragging a soft moan from you as his tongue soothed the marks his teeth left. “But watching him touch you? The way I should be? No,” he laughed cruelly, dropping to his knees in front of you. You looked down at him in shock, heart racing at the hunger in his eyes. “I couldn’t let him have you.”

You reached behind you for the railing of the balcony, grasping onto it like it was your lifeline. “Azriel,” you whispered, watching him lift the bottom of your skirts. He kissed your bare ankle, eyes catching yours once more.

“Tell me to stop, and I will.”

Yet the both of you knew you weren’t going to. His lips continued their transgressions up your leg, painfully slow. He was leaving dark marks in his wake, a reminder that he was there. Your hand twisted in his hair when he reached the top of your thigh, leaving one final mark for you to see in the morning. “Az,” you gasped, feeling as though you were going to erupt into flame at any moment. “Please.”

He smiled wickedly at you, tearing your underwear off of you a moment later. You gave a small shriek at the action, eyes wide as you looked at the torn garment. He allowed you no chance to comment, his mouth on you before you even knew what to say.

“Oh,” you moaned, head falling backwards. His tongue swirled around you like you were the most delicious desert he had ever tasted. He sucked onto your clit, ripping a loud cry of his name from you. You were lost in the haze of lust and pleasure, all the years of anger and hate gone as if they never existed.

He continued the sins he was committing with his tongue while his fingers ran up to join. You moaned his name again and again as one pushed inside of you, curling in the exact spot you needed it to. Cool shadows swirled around your burning skin, a sensation so intense you weren’t sure you could handle it. He added a second finger, stretching you pleasurably. “Azriel, I, oh, Az,” you gasped out, unable to form coherent thought. He kept his movements steady as one shadow wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough for you to moan again.

Eris was long gone from your mind.

Azriel continued working you, clearly pleased by the increasing volume and intensity in which you were saying his name. You knew you were close, forcing your orgasm at bay as long as possible. You wanted to live in this moment forever. He touched you like he had studied you for years, like he knew exactly what would make you tick. In his hands you were nothing but clay for him to mold, creating the beautiful sculpture that was this moment. Your body began to shake as he kept steady, thrusting his fingers in and out of you while humming against your clit.

That was all you needed to explode against him.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, your head thrown all the back, mouth open in a silent scream. Stars exploded behind your eyes, the sensation of your orgasm rolling through you. Azriel pushed you through it, prolonging the feeling as long as possible. He didn’t cease his actions until you were gasping for air, his name falling from your lips like a beautiful song. Only then did he slowly pull away from your wrecked body, standing to hold you steady.

One hand came to gently cup your face, thumb running lovingly over your cheek. “How long?” You asked, leaning into his touch.

“Since the first day I met you.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Then why lie? Why battle me for so long?”

He looked guilty, moving to rest his forehead on yours. “You are his sister. I was scared.” He took a shuddering breath. “It was too risky. You were off limits, you see. He had explicitly told Cassian and I to not even think about it,” he gave a humorless laugh. “Being around you was overwhelming. Everything in me was screaming for you. I had originally decided to just be friends, that I would settle for that.” The arm around your waist tightened. “But even that was too much. I needed you, and the longer I went without you the more i began to lose it.” His eyes turned sad. “I had to push you away.”

You shook your head, tears pricking at your eyes. “Sometimes I hate my brother,” you whispered, a century long confession on the tip of your tongue. “For it has been the same for me all these years. So long, in fact, I forgot why I started to dislike you in the first place.” With that, you closed the remaining space between you, pressing your lips to his.

A hundred years of lost emotion poured from the both of you, holding on to each other like you may disappear. You kissed Azriel like this was the only chance you had, allowing him to open your mouth with his.

Passion flowed between the two of you, the taste of yourself on his tongue reigniting the fire under your skin. He whispered your name over and over against your lips, like a prayer he had been longing to say. In that moment the two of you were the only ones who existed.

“Well, this is most certainly not what I meant when I said I wanted you to get along.”

Your eyes shot open as you pulled your lips from Azriel’s, looking widely at your rather angry brother. “I, uh, hello, Rhys,” you stuttered, taking a step away from Azriel. Who, in fact, was having none of that, and immediately pulled your lips from back into his arms.

“Rhysand,” he said coolly.

“I would be careful with your tone if I were you, Azriel,” Rhys warned, anger simmering in him. “That is my sister.”

Azriel simply tightened his hold on you, capturing your lips in another kiss. “So she is.” He looked back at your brother. “Yet she is also my mate.”

Mate. Mate?

No.

Surely you didn’t spend a century warring with your fated mate, because your brother was too much of a hard ass to allow you to make your own choices?

No.

It couldn’t be.

And yet, at his declaration, you felt it in your soul. The golden bond tying the two of you together.

You glared at Rhysand.

“Brother, you and I will speak tomorrow.” Azriel leaned his head down to press a kiss against your neck, mumbling “or in a week.” You swatted him away, ignoring the laugh he let out. “But for now, you will go. I do not care where, but you will leave us be. Do you understand?”

Rhys stared at you in disbelief, not used to having someone else boss him around. “Well, I, but,” he spluttered, looking around the balcony as if for someone to save him. “You’re my sister!”

You gave him an exaggerated nod, speaking slowly. “Yes. I am. I am also fully grown and capable of making my own choices. Now, I suggest you leave.” Azriel happily began peppering kisses over your skin again. “Immediately.”

***

AHHHHHHH i absolutely LOVED writing this. happy 2025 friends. i hope you enjoyed <3

[unclewaynemunson]

If there is one thing Eddie Munson is good at, it's hyperfixating. He can spend hours upon hours wholly entranced by whatever it is that has his attention, whether it's a newly discovered band or a book series he's reading or some random new interest he likes to immerse himself in. It's something Steve, who himself has the attention span of a goldfish, will never really understand, but that's okay: even without understanding it, it's one of the things he loves about Eddie.

Some of Eddie's obsessions fade just as quickly as they appear, but others stay with him for years. So when he reaches a 1000-day streak on Duolingo learning Elvish, Steve has a surprise for him: two tickets for a Lord of the Rings convention in Chicago. The second ticket is not for Steve – they enjoy their own separate interests just fine without the other's involvement – but for Dustin, and the two of them wave goodbye to Steve with a suitcase filled with nerdy costumes and matching excited sparks in their eyes.

Eddie returns a few days later filled with stories about all that he and Dustin got up to.

'Guess who we met at the convention,' is one of the first things he tells Steve. He's bouncing around with excitement, too impatient to even wait for Steve's first guess. 'The guy who created the Elvish Duolingo course! And guess what? He lives in Indianapolis! I'm having lunch with him next week!'

And it's cool, Steve is happy that Eddie met his hero and made a new nerd friend out of him, he truly is – until Eddie shows him the picture that Dustin took of the two of them.

Here's the thing: Steve is not a jealous person. Not at all. He knows that jealousy is a gross thing to feel and he can't even imagine not trusting Eddie. But... he had not expected Eddie's lame nerd idol to have amazing hair, a lip piercing, and muscles in all the right places. The guy looks like a freaking model. And usually, that wouldn't bother Steve – he knows he's not exactly ugly himself – but usually he doesn't have to compete with guys who speak Elvish fluently.

'You should come with me, we can all hang out together,' Eddie suggests. 'I'm sure you'll love him.'

Steve is hesitant about it, but Eddie refuses to take no for an answer, and that's how Steve ends up at Vikram's house for lunch two weeks later.

Eddie gasps loudly when Vikram leads them into his living room, clutching a dramatic hand to his chest in true Eddie fashion. Steve knows it's not all theatrics, though: there's no way a room like this wouldn't genuinely impress Eddie. It's dark and filled with big leather furniture. Framed posters for various metal bands and horror movies hang on the walls. There are shelves filled with big fantasy books, and every corner of the room has a display cabinet filled with what seem to be collectors' items for various series.

If Steve had been hoping for Vikram to look more like a stereotypical nerd in real life, he would be severely disappointed: the guy looks amazing in a leather jacket that would fit perfectly in Eddie's own collection and black skinny jeans that show off a truly amazing pair of legs, making Steve feel oddly self-conscious about the couple of pounds he gained since he left his high school sports days behind him.

While they're having lunch – Vikram bakes his own bread and it's so good that Steve doesn't think he can ever stop eating – Eddie and Vikram enthusiastically talk each other's heads off about all things Tolkien. Steve, on the other hand, grows more quiet as time passes, not really following along and sure as hell not able to give any contributions to the topic at hand.

'Did you ever try to learn some Sindarin as well, Steve? Or are you more of a Quenya guy?' Vikram asks him in what is no doubt a well-meant attempt to include Steve in the conversation.

Steve hastily swallows a big mouthful of bread and feels his cheeks heat up.

'I never read those books,' he sheepishly confesses.

'Oh!' Vikram's eyes widen and Steve can practically see him think: You never bothered to show any interest in one of your boyfriend's favorite things?

'Well, I mean, I tried,' Steve rushes to explain himself. 'But I um, I couldn't really keep my attention to it. They're a bit difficult to read. For me.' Somehow, explaining it only makes him feel worse about it.

'Oh, yeah, I get it, man. Those books aren't for everyone.'

There is no meanness or hidden insult behind his words. But Steve only feels more like an outsider while Eddie asks Vikram some incomprehensible question that has Vikram giving an in-depth explanation about the difference between two words that literally sound the same to Steve's ears. And when Eddie laughs about a joke that goes way over Steve's head, then says something in that stupidly beautiful nerd language which prompts a laugh from Vikram in return, Steve is reminded in full force how ugly of an emotion jealousy is.

They say goodbye – Eddie says something in Elvish again and Steve has to watch Vikram laugh a joyous laugh about it again – and Steve is quiet during the drive back home.

'Is something wrong?' Eddie asks when they're home, perceptive as always.

'No,' Steve lies.

'Stevie, c'mon.' Eddie studies Steve's face intently, a frown between his eyebrows just barely hidden by his bangs. 'What's going on?' Something in his expression shifts. 'Wait. You didn't like Vikram, did you? Did you hate him?'

'No, I didn't hate him!' Steve is quick to say. 'He's awesome, Eddie, he's perfect and smart and funny and perfect.'

Eddie narrows his eyes like Steve said something weird.

'Why did you say he's perfect twice?'

Steve huffs and runs a hand through his hair in a nervous gesture. 'Just drop it, Eddie.'

'No, I'm not dropping it.' Eddie crosses his arms. 'What are you not telling me?'

Steve sighs. 'Okay, I didn't want to bother you with this, because it's my problem and not yours, and jealousy is an ugly emotion, but–'

'You're jealous of Vikram?'

'I mean, he's like, super hot, and he has this cool house, and he loves the same things as you, and you can speak your cool nerd language with him, while I'm too dumb to even read your cool nerd books and–'

'Steve,' Eddie interrupts him. 'You have no reason to be jealous.'

'I just...' Steve pauses, pinches the bridge of his nose. He finally manages to voice the thought that has been eating at him ever since he met Vikram. 'I don't want you to wake up someday and wish that you were with someone as smart as you are.'

The way Eddie's breath catches is barely noticeable. Then, he reaches out and gently places his hands on Steve's shoulders.

'I am with someone as smart as I am,' he says softly.

Steve scoffs.

'No, it's true,' Eddie presses on. 'Okay, so you don't enjoy reading Tolkien, and you don't speak Elvish. I don't care about that, man. I love the way you think. I love your inexhaustible knowledge of weird sports facts. I love how precise you are about weighing ingredients when you're baking something. I love your through-the-roof emotional and social intelligence.' He lifts one hand off of Steve's shoulder to pet his head, almost as if he's some kind of animal. 'You got a pretty big brain in there, no matter what you tell yourself, Stevie. And that's why I love you, more than anyone who speaks Elvish fluently.'

Steve tugs Eddie closer until their bodies are pressed against each other, his arms around Eddie's waist and his head resting on Eddie's shoulder.

'I don't think anyone has ever called me smart before,' he quietly admits.

'Well, I'll do it more often, then,' Eddie replies. 'Cause you are.'

(I wrote this because @undreaming-rambles has reached the unbelievable milestone of a 1000-day duolingo strike today. obviously that called for a silly fanfic celebration moment, congrats on your incredible perseverance aneta 💖 and credit where credit is due: this one was inspired by an episode of my beloved comfort show brooklyn 99)

[lbhslefttiddie]

honestly i don't think sqq (jiu) would have minded the accusations of preferential treatment from yqy if they'd felt true. like as children he guarded the title of being yue qi's Favorite with teeth and claws. why shouldn't he be given preferential treatment? everyone ought to know just who qi-ge likes and trusts over everyone else. and for good fucking reason--who else here is watching out for qi-ge? as peak lords he's literally 2nd in command and chief tactician, if yqy values his word over yours, then its both what makes most sense and also what he deserves.

the thing is that to sqq, being accused of being favoured by yqy over others now just feels like a sick joke, because obviously (to him) that's not the fucking case. if he actually gave him preferential treatment you'd think he'd listen to what he has to fucking say, instead of believing what anyone else tells him about sqq. you'd think, if he was yqy's favorite, he wouldn't have left him to rot.

so i think, in a setting where they reconcile after becoming peak lords, that sqq would very much slap yqy's love for him in everyones faces as a kind of power move. a kind of, "oh, you thought that was favouritism? you havent seen yet what it looks like when qi-ge lets himself favour someone."

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 08 - Sex Magic]

Pairing: Soft Dom!Jungkook x sub f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, Wizard!Jungkook, Fantasy!AU

Kinks: love making, vaginal penetrative sex, creampie, vaginal fingering, blowjob, cunnilingus, spit, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), edging (m.receiving), praise, body worship, sex magic & toys aka he enchants a crystal wand so it becomes a vibrator, size & strength kink, cuddly aftercare

Wordcount: 7.4k

a/n: someone gave me these kinks and i went “what if KOOK was the one with magic for a change?” and then this was born. also, i say this with pride, he is 100% and proudly inspired by Howl Pendragon from Howl’s Moving Castle, like, this is basically a Howl!AU with Kook. i also wholeheartedly fell in love with this Kook oh my lORD he is so dreamy and perfect <3

Jungkook Pendragon was many a things. Healer of the sick. Protector of the weak. Traveller of worlds. Wizard of one’s trust. Lover of animals and nature. An introvert rarely happy about small talk. Connoisseur of good foods. And man of immaculate beauty. He possessed the wits and intelligence to escape many a dicey situations. His bravery and courage was known just as well as his kind and empathetic heart. His humour never stooped down to insult other people, instead it so very often came down to making a fool of himself for the sake of a good laugh. But as funny as he was, he was also serious. He was intense and stern and scary if one dared to cross him. He was powerful and those who wronged the innocent felt his strength to its fullest. 

In his daily life however, Jungkook rarely showed off his strength. He helped flowers bloom anew or lit a fire for a desperate baker, he filled the bowl of a hungry stray cat or showed curious children a harmless but wondrous magic trick. Whatever his little show of strength might be, in his daily life, Jungkook wanted to bring happiness to the living beings around him with it.

You were no exception from people he wanted to make smile. Perhaps you were the one whose happiness was most important to him. His beloved and cherished wife. Only human and terribly weak against the dangers of dark distant lands. And he loved you more than he had ever loved another before.

You lived in his hometown your whole life. You knew of his existence and the help he bore to the townsfolk. You also knew that sometimes his windows went black and that meant his house wasn’t exactly in town. He explained to you later when you and he were already lovers how it worked. That he needed to use a lever by the front door to teleport his interior and the beings inside to another place and that he possessed buildings in each place to teleport into. Some of these places you were allowed to as well, while others he kept hidden from you because they would be too dangerous. 

Sometimes you stay in town while Jungkook disappears through the door and when he returns again, he brings the stench of death and signs of a hard battle. You always nurture him back to health even if seeing his body bruised and broken from fights hurt you. 

Now back to how you met. It was five years ago when a wicked warlock cursed your cats to stone. You knew instantly to seek the wizard Jungkook Pendragon for help. Up until this point, you have only heard of him and perhaps seen him hurry through the streets in passing, and when you stood before him, you barely managed to get your words out. He was beautiful. Beautiful beyond your wildest imagination. His skin radiated in health and youth. His hair, dark as raven feathers and slightly wavy, ended just a little above his shoulders. His eyes were friendly and filled with galaxies. They were the darkest brown, but glowed purple when he used his magic. His features were ethereal and his body both strong and slim. He was taller than you and smelled of sandalwood. Back then, he smiled at you and asked what you needed and you somehow stuttered your problem. He knew exactly what to do and somehow through being yourself, you managed to catch his attention as well. It wasn’t long after, and because of some very intense romancing by him, that you and he became lovers. You married but six months after, about which your parents were very happy. You moved into his house one day after the wedding, taking your two cats and everything you owned with you. Jungkook welcomed you in his home gladly. He gave you his sunniest room and encouraged you to fill it with your most beloved hobbies. Each time you placed a thing of yours somewhere in the house, he smiled and said how much he loved it there. And over time, his home became as much your home as it was his’. He even fulfilled your dream of owning a garden, accessible through his magic door and built just for you.

Jungkook Pendragon was many of things. Wizards, healer, protector and fighter, but most of all he was your beloved husband. The man you love more than you have ever loved another person. 

Dawn has long past and the town was whispering for sleep. Jungkook hasn’t come home yet. It has been since the morning when he went through one of the bad doors. It worries you to the point you can’t find calm. The dinner is dished, cold by now, and he should be home already. The only dinner you managed to get down were your own fingernails as you bit them in nervousness. Your cats, Fili and Kili, are sleeping by the fire but you could see from their erect ears that they were nervous as well. You cannot take it anymore. Is he still alive? You have such thoughts often when he leaves through one of the bad doors. Not every country on this planet was as safe and peaceful as your homeland. Many were cursed by monsters, war or dark magic. There were other wizards like Jungkook, but not many felt courageous enough to venture beyond their own borders. Jungkook never limited his powers to borders, he went where magic was needed and while you loved him for it, you also loathed this part of him. His kindness will kill him one day. You would never dare to tell him that because it was what he needed to feel happy, but sometimes you wished that he would stop leaving through bad doors and stay with you instead. 

Speaking of doors. The number shield above the lever suddenly flicks to black. You jump up from the armchair, staring at the front door with bated breath. The doorknob turns. Please let him be unharmed, please. The door opens, allowing the stench of phosphor to enter your home. Jungkook walks over the threshold like the wind, closing the door quickly and flicking the lever back to the town. He walks upright and with lightness in his steps. His face and clothes were darkened by soot, as were his hands, but he looked unharmed. 

“What a day”, he says, shrugging off his black cape.

“Beloved!” you call out, running to jump into his arms.

“Oh?” Jungkook catches you with a laugh and his dirtied hands under your behind.

“I’m so glad that you’re home. I was so worried that you were hurt or, or worse killed”, you almost sob into his shoulder, twisting his hair to get him closer to you. 

“Worry not about me. I’m home safe.” 

“Yes? Oh Jungkook, my beloved”, you cradle his face.

Jungkook sets you down gently, holding your waist as he smiles down at you. 

“You are so dirty. Oh my beloved, are you truly unharmed?”

“Yes, I promise you this is just soot which lingered in the air. I fought and won.” 

“You will cause me heart problems one day. You’re finally home”, you say and hug him, face buried in his strong chest despite his dirtied clothes.

Jungkook hugs you back, caressing the back of your head. He leans down and kisses the crown of your head, resting his cheek on it afterwards with closed eyes. His beloved woman. He loves this part of his days the most. To return home and be greeted by your hug is truly what Jungkook does all of this for. 

“My little love”, he whispers, holding you safely, “I missed you today.”

“I missed you too, so very much.” You crane your neck so you could look up at him and get on your tiptoes. Jungkook meets you in the middle, cradling your cheeks as you and he kiss. His lips taste of ash and so you pull back with a slight scowl.

Jungkook chuckles, “I know I taste awful. Let me bathe and then I will really kiss you.”

“Yes, alright. I shall warm dinner in the meantime.” 

“Oh my little love”, he whispers and kisses your forehead in gratefulness. He breaks away from you to hurry upstairs in light steps and a melody on his lips. You clean off the soot from your clothes and cheeks, hurrying to the kitchen afterwards.

Dinner is served and warm when Jungkook skips down the steps. He changed into black pants into which he tugged a white flowy shirt. His bare feet are almost silent on the many rugs spread on the wooden floor. He dances to your side, picks you up to twirl with you once. You laugh loudly, wobbling slightly when he sets you down again.

“How I missed you”, he says, hugging you close and nuzzling his face into your neck. His hands roam your body innocently, rubbing your back and waist, giving your buttocks a gentle squeeze and caressing your arms. It is as if he refuses to let go and you love it so much, melting into him if there wasn’t dinner waiting. 

He ends his loving touches by holding your waist and cradling your hand with the other, resting his forehead against yours to sway with you to melodies he hums. It is as if you were dancing.

You smile, having your eyes closed. He has such a beautiful singing voice. Sometimes when sleep comes a little harder to you, as it sometimes does to a person, Jungkook caresses your face and sings to you softly until you fell asleep. You love these nights so very much and whenever he is gone for longer than a day and you can’t fall asleep because of worry, you are damned to a sleepless night. Are have gotten so used to his singing that living without is like torture. 

“Is this a new melody? You keep humming it lately?” you whisper.

“Yes, I thought of it”, he says and singings it softly with syllables of “lalala”s. 

You join his singing harmonising with him, which makes him smile and kiss your lips. You giggle.

“Mhm, you perfect blessing you”, he says, trying to deepen the kiss but you squirm away for the sole purpose of talking. If there wasn’t dinner waiting for you and him, you would want to stay in this moment for ages.

“Dinner will be cold again if we take any more time.” 

“Mhm, you’re right.” He kisses your cheek and steps back, but keeps his hands on your waist. “What did you make?” 

“Your favourite. Potato stew with cow’s meat. The bread is fresh, from baker Yoongi. Sit down, sit down.” 

“I’m in a dream. You have no idea how much this will cheer me up tonight.” 

He sits down, earning himself a kiss to his shoulder before you sit down as well opposite of him. You break the bread, giving him the bigger piece because he always eats so much more than you when he returns from a bad door. 

You talk about your days during dinner. You tell him that you went into town for shopping and that you met your parents for some tea. He tells you about the dangers he encountered. The situation in Berking was brittle as more and more fire demons invaded the mountainous lands and threatened the livelihood of the people. Jungkook worked together with the wizard of Berking, Taehyung Emerand, but he fears that soon their shared powers won’t be enough to ward off the demons. Jungkook plans on visiting the wizard Seokjin Koral tomorrow and ask for his aid in the matter. He is positive that the wizard will help. 

You and Jungkook clean the kitchen together after dinner and because it is so late already, you decide to go to bed soon after.

It took you a while to get used to Jungkook’s bedroom. His furniture was dark and the bed most comfortable, but the room was brimming with treasures. There was no wall which wasn’t covered in trinkets or artworks and no surface which didn’t carry more trinkets or healing plants. Many of the items were of magical nature and helped Jungkook recharge when he slept. Some bore memories while others were merely of aesthetic nature. You felt overwhelmed from all the views at first, but now you loved it dearly. Every item had its home and it fit so well together with the rest. These days, there are a few of your trinkets in the collection as well, looking perfectly in place. The floor was entirely covered in colourful, expensive rugs scattered without plan. Most corners of the room, or spaces where you rarely walked, were covered in stacks of books. Tonight, Jungkook reads one of the books when you enter the bedroom in nothing but your sleeping gown. He stepped out of his pants as well, now lying in bed with a bared behind covered by the warm blanket. 

“The water was really warm tonight. I barely wanted to leave the bath.”

“Yes, it felt good on the skin. The weather gets colder here again so it’s nice to have a warm bath.”

“Yes, not long and we will have to use the thicker blanket. I can’t wait, I love this blanket”, you say, getting comfortable under the covers. 

Jungkook lowers the book and places his hand on the side of your head so he could caress you gently. You gaze up at him, head the only thing sticking out from under the blanket. The light of the night lamp illuminates his face in warm colour, his dark hair falls in soft waves. Looking at him will never not make your heart flutter.

“Please don’t die far away from me, Jungkook Pendragon.”

“Oh beloved, you worry too much”, Jungkook speaks softly, massaging your ear soothingly. 

“Please just promise me.”

“I promise you. I shall grow old until I look like a raisin and then die in your arms.” 

You snicker, making him smile with it. 

“Yes, I can accept that.”

He chuckles, booping your nose. 

“You’re too cute.” 

He picks up the book and continues where he left off. You continue where you left off too, which is staring at his face to make sure that he was truly back with you again. 

“What are you reading?” you ask him, fingers tracing the side of his thigh mindlessly under the blanket.

“Spells I might need tomorrow. If Seokjin wants to leave for Berking right away, I want to be prepared.”

“So you will fight again tomorrow?” 

Jungkook lowers the book, meeting your eyes.

“Hey, little love”, he brushes his hand over your temple soothingly, “don’t worry about me. Nothing will happen to me, I promise.”

“You made a promise about raisins.”

“And I intend to keep it”, he says, scratching your scalp softly so your thoughts could calm down. He continues petting you like this as he gets lost in the book again, using magic to float it in front of him and flick the pages. 

What if you won’t ever see him again? Jungkook wants you to calm down and find sleep, but you can’t. You could lose him tomorrow. He could be gone, leaving you alone with no arms to lie in and no person to call home. If this moment wasn’t so tranquil, you would be crying. Instead you look at his face to memorise every inch of it just in case. 

Jungkook soon glances at you. 

“Try to sleep, beloved” he whispers, brushing his fingers over your lids gently to close them. 

“I can’t. I’m worried about tomorrow.”

“Don’t, I will return back to you.” Jungkook lies down on his side, kissing your forehead as he holds you close. “Try to sleep, beloved, please try to sleep.”

“I can’t. I want to look at you longer.” 

“Do I have to tire you, mhm?” 

Your lids flutter, as does your heart. Jungkook smiles sweetly, pinching your cheek and kissing it.

“Try to sleep, yes?” he whispers before sitting back up to return to the book. 

You continue to stare. His words made you desperate for him. You didn’t even think of this yet. If you lose him, you will also lose the intimacy. 

Jungkook is many a things. Wizard, healer, saviour, husband. And he is also the most attentive lover. You knew some intimacy before Jungkook, but truly got to know it through him. He waited after your wedding, of course he did. As a matter of fact, he was such a gentleman, that he didn’t even kiss you before you were officially his wife for he didn’t want to spoil your honour. The first kiss you shared was during the wedding ceremony and then later at night, Jungkook kissed you properly, sealing your shared fate. He couldn’t get enough of you and you couldn’t get enough of him. It always feels so good to be intimate with him. What if tonight is the last night to share this feeling? 

“Beloved?”

Jungkook sighs and looks at you, “why are you still up? Look at you, you seem so tired already.” 

“I don’t care. I want to be with you.”

“You are, little love, you are. In sleep as well.”

“Not yet, I have a wish.”

He places the book aside and lies down on his side, drawing calming circles on your upper back. His eyes are filled with so much love, his face looks constantly happy when he looks at you.

“Tell me your wish.”

“Can we love each other tonight? If you don’t return tomorrow, I want to have something to think back fondly on.”

Jungkook swallows the words he actually wanted to speak, that your worries were for nought and that you should sleep, when he sees how much you truly needed this tonight. He smiles with his eyes and kisses the shell of your ear.

“Of course, my beloved. We can love each other.” 

“Really?” 

"Yes, of course. I missed you today. Loving you like this, would make me very happy.”

“It would make me happy too. Jungkook, my beloved.” You touch his chest. “Can I taste you?” 

“You.” He gulps, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “You would want this?” 

“Yes. A lot.”

“I, I want it as well.” 

You sigh his name. He cradles your cheek.

“But first I need to kiss you. Truly kiss you.”

You meet him eagerly, fingers burying themselves deep in his soft hair and lips so ready to be claimed. Jungkook smiles into the kiss because of your eagerness, purring softly while his hand pulls you closer by your waist. He puts his other arm under your head, placing his hand on your shoulder. Naturally and happily, you drape your leg over his hips, breaking the kiss to whisper.

“This feels so good.” 

“It does, my beloved. I love holding you.” 

The kiss continues. Your hearts beat in sync, your lips dance perfectly together. How you both needed this tonight. He missed you all day, looking forward to the moment he was finally with you again. You missed him as well, worrying for his safety and healing now that he was kissing you again. 

You remember the first night he properly kissed you. You laid under him, cradled in his strong arms and with your breath stolen by him. It has been years ever since and it still feels as exciting as it did back then. Perhaps even more exciting because your love for each other grew over the years. Familiarity, intimacy, connection replaced the once thrilling feeling of learning each other and with it allowed your love to blossom. Being known and knowing in return is much better than getting know, it truly is. Jungkook knows that you love it most when he uses his tongue to trace your lips. You know that he gets especially excited when you run your nails over his scalp. You use your knowledge tonight, soon turning the kiss from gentle to just a little starved. You moan first, Jungkook answers you instantly, hand gripping your thigh to tug you closer. His hold on you is gentle but desperate. The hardness poking your middle shows his hunger even better. You and he both know that you needed to end this kiss in order to continue.

It breaks with shaky breaths leaving the both of you. You can’t stop looking at him. He reciprocates, starry eyes racing between yours. His fingers brush your cheek, his whisper comes oh so very quietly.

“I love you with the very essence of my soul, ___ Pendragon.” 

“I love you with every breath I draw, Jungkook Pendragon.”

He exhales shakily, resting his forehead against yours. You and he close your eyes.

“My little love….” 

For a brief second, you enjoy the moment of connection. You are both aroused yet want to take time to truly savour each other. Being naked and getting it done quickly is easy, but what truly makes intimacy with him so wonderful is that you equally want to take your time. You savour the connection, the moments your souls are intertwined and your hearts are one.

“I feel so good”, you breathe.

“I feel so good, too”, he whispers.

“I want you.”

“I want you too, so very much that my hand…” he dances it to your behind and gives it a gentle squeeze, “...wants to act up.”

You giggle, he chuckles. 

“You’re just being cheeky.”

“Mhm, I am. It makes you laugh.” 

“Oh beloved you”, you break the connection by gently pushing him to his back. He moves gladly, breath quickening at what was to come. You peck his lips first, then lie down on your stomach, draping your arm over his waist. You feel up his chest slowly, gazing at his face. His heart races uncontrollably. 

“You’re beautiful”, you say and rest your cheek on his chest, scrunching your face in a love drunk smile. And as you rest, your hand rubs him slowly, memorising how it feels to touch him. “My strong love and yet you are still so soft.” 

Jungkook smiles, brushing his hand down your cheek. With a giggle and scrunch of your nose you lift yourself again to kiss him over the shirt. Your hands and fingers guide your lips, painting a picture of him in your memories. His strong yet comfortable chest, which is so perfect to hide in, his delicate collarbones, on which necklaces always sit so prettily, his tender neck which always smells so good and his strong shoulders, which are perfect to lean on, his even stronger arms which give the best hugs and then you take the path back. You brush your lips over his nipples, making him sigh softly, but you don’t linger. You need to kiss his stomach next, which is so strong but also so soft when he lies with you. You hug him and rest your cheek on it.

“You are so soft, you really are.” 

Jungkook chuckles but sighs soon after. He feels so warm inside. If this is how he can spend the night before battle, he is one lucky man. Quite frankly, he is the luckiest man who ever lived. He is married to you after all. 

It so happens that you soon reach the edge of the blanket. You glance at his face briefly. His eyes are closed. So it will be a surprise. Good. You love surprising him.

You push the blanket down to the middle of his thighs carefully and slip his shirt up to his lower stomach, exposing his hardened length. You keep one arm still around his waist, using it to support some of your weight as you lower your starving mouth to his length. He fits between your lips as if he was molded just for you. 

Jungkook gasps loudly, hand falling to the nape of your neck and fingers ever so slightly dimpling your skin. His hips twitch up, his length throbs on your tongue. The surprise was successful. How exciting. 

You moan and begin moving. You concentrate on his tip, using both your tongue and lips to taste him. He is sensitive where he leaks and around his frenulum, so you switch between these two spots, listening to the sweet moans he releases in reaction. His hand is still on your neck, grasping it and when he doesn’t, he gives you gentle rubs of gratefulness. 

You lick his taste from his slit, purring in answer to his gasped moans. You enjoy his taste a lot. At first, you were surprised by how he tasted down there. You always expected it to be different flavoured, more like milk to match the look of it, but that isn’t so. It is masculine when he is deeply aroused and sweet when he ate lots of fruit and sometimes it carries a hint of salt in its taste but most of all, it tasted like him. And you loved this flavour so much that you find yourself drooling all over him right now. You slurp it up, picking up what you can’t swallow with your fingers to spread it on his lower inches in a deep and skilful massage.

“Beloved this is…” He groans deeply, kicking the mattress as you force his legs to be restless. “...a lot. Ah mmhhgm.”

What an exciting reaction. Your stomach flutters and your wetness grows between your legs. You sink him between your lips, keeping them relaxed so they move as you suck him. You press the flat of your tongue against his length, moving your head in the same rhythm you move your hand.

“Beloved ah”, he gasps, fingers digging into your tender neck desperately. He kicks the sheets, bucking his hips up afterwards. 

Encouraged by his reactions, you pick up speed and depth, drooling down his length without bothering to swallow it. 

Jungkook moans loudly, hand dropping from your neck to reach up and grab the corner of his pillow. He cannot decide whether to keep his eyes closed or gawk at the ceiling in disbelief. He also cannot decide whether to dig his head into the pillow or lift it in surprise. Neither can he decide whether to gasp or moan. Perhaps he does all of these things. With no pattern behind them. They just happen and happen while you suck his very soul out of his length. He feels it in every inch of his cock, feels it in his balls as well. It burns like fire and consumes the very same. It spread to his stomach by now, lingering as a warm, tight knot. It consumed his legs as well, rendering them useless and tingly as if millions of fire ants crawled over them. 

He might release in your mouth if he wasn’t careful. It would feel so good and you would love it so much, but he can’t. If you want tonight to truly be memorable, he wants to do it the right way. He wants to look into your eyes as he lets go and feel your fingers grasp his arms as you feel it coat your walls. 

You moan around him, head pounding in pleasure. You love to have him in your mouth. It shouldn’t feel that good to have something hit your throat over and over again but it does. You love him inside so much that you feel no need to gag or choke, only the need to consume him more and more.

“Stop it now”, Jungkook however stops you, sliding his hand to your chin to gently pry you off his length. “Stop or you will make me release.”

You slip off begrudgingly, turning your head to look at him. Your lips are puffy and glossy, your eyes are hazy. Jungkook feels thoughtless at the view of you, except for one thought. 

“Oh you, let me kiss you”, he gets out and pulls you up to him so he could do just that. You whimper, melting into him instantly. You don’t mind anymore that he stopped you from tasting his orgasm, not when he kisses you so hungrily. He flips your position, claiming the emptiness between your legs with his hips. Only the thin fabric of your sleeping gown keeps you from connecting deeper. 

“Oh you…perfect woman. You felt so good I feared for my heart. Oh you…”

Jungkook tastes himself on your lips and tongue as he kisses you. It makes him want to kiss you even more, even better, even longer. Not just your lips. Everywhere. Your beautiful face, which he always thinks of for happiness when times are hard, your tender neck so soft and smelling always so good, your collarbones which are prettiest when sunlight hits them, your shoulders which sometimes get stiff but which relax so easily when he rubs them, your arms which are the only home he will ever have, your chest which is rather precious to handle. He palms your breasts and gathers them carefully so he could kiss them over the thin fabric. His warmth seeps into your skin like this, drawing gasps from your lips. He feels so good on your body.

“You are the living proof that the creator is an artist. She carved you from the very soils of beauty, my beloved”, he breathes, lips ghosting over your tender nipples without ever deepening the touch. That is the task of another night, he needs to worship every inch of you. Your sides which he loves to hold and gently tickle because it makes you laugh, your upper stomach which tenses whenever he makes you belt in laughter, your stomach which is so soft. So soft. Jungkook finds himself sinking his head into it and sighing your name. 

He gazes up at you, holding your sides.

“I’m home when I’m with you, ___ Pendragon.” 

You ruffle his hair, smiling at him.

“You’re my home too.” 

Jungkook sighs happily, lifting his head to continue his path. He wiggles under the blanket and lifts your gown, sticking his head under it. You gawk with bated breath, waiting for his wet tongue between your folds. 

It never comes, instead he places dozens and dozens of kisses on each of your inner thighs, drawing a sigh from your lips. You prop your legs up all on your own, getting his hands on your upper hips outside the gown. You can hold them like this and you do, grabbing one finger per hand as he kisses a path closer and closer to your heat. 

Jungkook bends the fingers you hold, letting you know that he was holding you back. The warmth between your folds hits you a second later, surprising you so greatly that you squeak and close your legs on his head.

“Mhm.” He lifts his mouth, “forgive me. Too far?”

“No, no sorry. I startled, that’s all. Please more”, you stutter, opening your legs.

“I will be gentle, I promise my beloved”, he says and sticks his tongue out to part your petals with it. You squeeze the fingers you hold, moaning his name. 

Jungkook closes his eyes, releasing a breath of utter relief. He loves to be between your legs. You offer him such heaven. You are soft and tender and so warm. When he excites you, your warmth begins to smell so intensely feminine and addicting that Jungkook becomes droopy. And your taste. Oh, your taste. Jungkook loves every drop of it. You become sweeter the more aroused you get and your nectar changes from thicker to more liquid. You are already so wet tonight from pleasuring him that Jungkook can’t decide where to linger. Your entrance, your petals or your clit. All of it gets traced and licked by his eager tongue. He can picture you in his mind when he does it. How you open up like the prettiest flower, how there are the first then the second petals revealing your warm depth and presenting your swollen clit.

“You’re beautiful, so beautiful” he murmurs into you and includes his lips as well. He sucks and kisses you, forcing your voice to raise in pitch as he makes you moan constantly. 

Your legs are shaky and it feels as if millions of ants were crawling under your skin, just how you made him feel. The same warmth is in your stomach as well, tight and deep inside you, hiding almost. 

You mewl and tug at his finger. Jungkook comes up with a slurp, appearing from your gown. His raven hair is messy, his rosy lips glossy. 

“Was I too rough?” he asks with worried eyes.

“No, your fingers please, your fingers.” 

“Ah, I understand”, he smiles and sticks his two longest into his mouth to coat them in a good layer of his spit. He slides his other hand to your inner thigh and opens your legs further with a gentle tug. 

You whimper in reaction, fingers grasping the sheets. To be gazed upon by him as he pleasures you is so arousing to you. He is looking at your face, watching your reaction as you take his digits.

The stretch is unbearable, not because it hurts, but because it feels too good. He is so careful in how he fills you, gliding in inch by inch. 

You whimper, face contorting in pleasure. Warm. You are so warm now that you are finally filled. 

“So beautiful. You are so beautiful”, Jungkook says and disappears inside your gown again to lick you eagerly. He traces your stuffed folds first, moaning deeply at the feeling of it. He can’t wait to exchange his fingers with his length. For now however, he wants to help you to an orgasm with just his fingers and tongue. He curls them deep inside you, pressing them against your upper walls right where it felt best. A gasp from you. Jungkook guides his tongue to your clit and presses it against you tightly to use the pressure and wet warmth to rub it with his tongue. The gasp turns into a moan. And another. Then another blending into a constant stream of noises as he gives you pleasure so intense you can see light behind your lids. 

You twist the sheets and tug on them, head buried deep in the pillow and back arched off the mattress. Your toes curl, gripping the sheets. The once quiet warmth in your lower body turns into a raging, all consuming fire. His fingers fill you entirely, the pressure on your insides is perfect and his slickened tongue is so strong in its grinds. He will make you climax. It is inescapable. 

“I have to orgasm”, you get out, whimpering his name next.

Jungkook encourages you to let go with a hungry growl, sealing your fate. 

You throw your head back and break screaming his name. Jungkook moans, tingling with you as he helps you ride it out until you pull away all by yourself. 

Jungkook licks his fingers clean before reappearing from your gown, lower face messy in your orgasm and his drool. 

“Beloved”, you croak, reaching for him. He lies himself down on you, meeting you in the middle for a kiss. You whimper and twitch, grasping him desperately as you use his kisses as your remedy. He left you so shaken from your high, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. You are alive when you can be with him this way. 

You break the kiss with a wish on your lips, “can I feel your skin on mine?” 

“Yes, of course. This would be everything to me”, he says and sits up to pull his shirt over his head. You do the same with your gown. You and he stay seated afterwards, gazing at each other.

“You’re beautiful”, you say, tracing his pecs. 

“You are just as beautiful”, he breathes and hugs you against him.

You instantly melt, eyes closing and skin taking in every second of contact it has with him. He is so warm and soft. He is the same temperature as you and yet he feels so much warmer than you. Like your only heat source in a cold room.

“I want to be with you.”

“You will be, I promise. Do you want to lie down for it?”

“Yes, very.” 

While you lie down, he disappears from your side for a brief moment to get a small wand of pure emerald, then claims his spot between your legs again. He intertwines his right hand with yours, resting on his elbows. He uses his left hand to cradle your cheek and caress it. His eyes gaze at you with so much love that you feel breathless.

“You’re beautiful.” 

“You’re beautiful too.”

“No, but you are truly so beautiful”, he whispers and furrows his brows as his emotion overwhelm him. “Oh my beloved. I will be gentle with you, I promise.” 

“Whatever you promise, please just hurry. I need you inside me. Please.”

“Help me, yes?” 

You reach down with your left hand and take his length to guide it to your entrance. You give him a gentle push and then he takes over, filling you with him in a careful push of his hips. 

Your breath hitches, you grasp his shoulder and squeeze his hand. He furrows his brows, eyes clouding over in pleasure.

“Is this good for you? Are you in pain?”

You shake your head vigorously and squeeze his shoulder as well.

“And now? I feel you tightening. Is it too much so soon after your orgasm?” 

“I’m tightening because it feels so good”, you croak and roll your hips up to take the last inch.

Jungkook moans your name, dropping his forehead against yours and squeezing his eyes shut. A curse slips from his lips, “forgive me”, he instantly apologises.

“Don’t. I agree. Damn it. Ah beloved, I love you.”

“I love you too”, Jungkook chokes out and kisses you, beginning to chase your warmth in deep but gentle movements. You swallow each other’s initial moan. Jungkook slips his hand from your cheek and grasps the pillow instead, holding it with the kind of desperate strength he wouldn’t dare to hold you in fear of hurting you. But he has to hold something like this. The tingling fire in his legs and stomach is back, his length feels even better than it did when it was being sucked by you. If he didn’t grasp something, he would go insane. He regrets not releasing in your mouth when he had the chance because he is paying the price now. 

Jungkook breaks the kiss, drool still sticking to your lips and his.

“I’m so sensitive. Every stroke feels like coming alive. I should have released in your mouth, ah beloved, ahmh it’s…you’re driving me insane.” 

“Is it too much?” 

“Almost, I’m burning up. It feels…”

“It feels so good”, you whimper.

“That’s right, it feels so good”, he agrees and moans, length so deep inside you that you swear you can feel his soul reach into you. 

You gaze up at him through your blurry vision. He is so close to you but you see enough. His pleasure twisted face, his messy hair, his flushed cheeks.

“You are so beautiful right now, so beautiful.” 

“You are…beauti…ful…too”, he struggles with his words, following it up with a growl and his fingers slipping from your grasp to instead grip your wrist and pin it into the pillow. He does it carefully, unlike how he twists the pillow. 

“My beloved, it’s so difficult not to break you. Are you still comfortable?” 

“Yes, please.”

“Oh my little love, my warm soft love… it takes everything inside me not to ruin you.”

You clench around him, arching your back. To be underneath him, to be so fragile and weak in comparison to him and to be treated with such utter tenderness because of it, is driving you insane as well. 

You reach between your bodies and touch your clit. 

“Ah!”

Jungkook peels his eyes open at the sound. His hips stop.

“What happened? Are you alright?” he gasps, worried.

“Yes, yes. Please move.”

“Oh my love, what a relief. You are just so small and tender. I worried that I hurt you for a second.” 

“Jungkook, please”, you beg him, gazing up at him pleadingly. You wiggle your hips, trying to give yourself more pleasure with quick rubs of your clit.

“No, wait. I have something for you.” 

“What?” you ask breathlessly, craving more of what he did.

He sits up, cock still inside you, and reaches for the emerald wand. He closes his fist around it and whispers an enchantment over it. It looks normal afterwards and feels warm as he places it in your hand. 

“What did you do to it?”

“Tap it once.” 

You follow. The wand begins vibrating in your fingers, “oh?” 

“For you. It will last for a day. Tap it again and it will increase gradually, tap it twice and it will stop.” 

“This is so…” 

“Place it on your clit.” 

You obey in curiosity, sitting up slightly in shock upon the initial sensation. 

“Jungkook”, you croak, walls throbbing around him.

“Does this feel good?” 

“Yes”, you mewl, nodding your head vigorously.

“Good. Use it whenever you need it.” 

Jungkook pushes you down gently and with a knowing smile, lays himself back down over you to pick up where he left off. 

You gasp and writhe, gawking at him with widened eyes. He soothes you with gentle caresses of your temples and cheeks.

“Isn’t that nice?” 

“-ice”, you manage to squeak out because then you are unable to speak, scrunching your face up and grasping his arm. 

“You are so beautiful, my beloved. I love you so much”, he moans, head dizzy because of this situation. 

You are writhing under him, hips bucking up to chase him and walls so tight around his length it is almost impossible not to orgasm. Giving you pleasure, making you feel good, is his biggest pleasure.

“You’re taking me so well, you are so beautiful, so beautiful…”

Jungkook grits his teeth and angles his hips differently to stimulate your sensitive spots. He keeps his length buried inside you for it, drawing circles. 

You inhale loudly, reaching above you to twist the pillow. Your eyes spill tears because of the intensity with which he pleasures you. You have never felt like this before. The wand gives you shakes you truly cannot control. His length has never felt so filling before, so big and ever consuming. It is as if you are giving him your very soul right now. 

“Jungkook”, his name leaves you in a desperate keen as you kick the sheets.

“Don’t hold back, I will follow. I promise you, my little love.” 

He breaks you into a million pieces just as he patches you back up again at the same time. You thought that you screamed in bed before, but you hadn’t. This is a true scream of pleasure, one so utterly soul bearing that Jungkook feels his eyes cross and roll back before he orgasms so deep inside you, he feels your walls quiver in reaction. 

You and he ride out your shared highs in messy thrusts and rolls of your hips, falling in each other’s arms afterwards to kiss sloppily. The emerald lies in the sheets, still vibrating but without use. Your fingers are in his hair, he cradles your face.

“I love you, I love you, I love you”, he chants and you answer him with the very same words over and over and over again until your breath runs out and you need to catch it together.

You stay close, rubbing your noses together gently.

“How are you feeling? Was I too rough?” he asks.

“You were perfect. You felt so good. I, I never experienced such sensations before”, you say.

“I know. You screamed. I never heard you scream like this before. My beloved, my eyes actually crossed because of it. I never felt my orgasm so intensely before.”

“Me neither. It was as if you were trying to crawl into me.” 

“And for me it was as if you wanted to consume me whole.”

You and he giggle, hugging each other. 

“You are going to drive me insane one day, ___ Pendragon.”

“Good. When the day comes, I will become mad with you, Jungkook Pendragon.”

He smiles, hiding his face in your neck. 

“Good. I can accept that.”

“It is decided then. We will become two mad raisins.”

He laughs, lifting his head to get lost in your eyes. 

“Promise. We will become two mad raisins together. My precious, beloved love”, he whispers, cradling your cheek.

[love-belle]

well, i'm still in love with you !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their fall-in-love-again era is them soft launching each other while driving their friends wild.

or

for when you're still in love with them and will be for forever. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

prequel - saw ur mom at the grocery store ·˚ ༘

warnings - language. suggestive jokes (???)

author's note - im so SORRY for not updating life is CRAZY rn like ???? so much has happened like im in LOVE im DONE with SCHOOL i have EXAMS SJSHSJSJKSKS im so sorry i hope u like this i love u all <3

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 1,725,819 others

yourusername he's in my head so much i might as well just give him some

11,628 comments

username HOLD UP

username im shaking in my big girl boots rn what the Fuck

username y/n ?????

username SCREECHING

username roman empire or roman empire

username IM DYING OH MY GOD

landonorris just because you can type something doesn't mean you SHOULD

-> yourusername shut up u literally sprouted like an unwanted weed and not even the good kind

-> yourusername i am sorry that was mean

-> landonorris 😕

-> username someone keep these two away from each other before y/n makes lando cry 😭

username live love laugh y/n y/l/n

username i need cameras recording their whole vacation !!!!!!!!!

username this whole holiday will be so much more entertaining than 90% of all the tv shows out there 😭😭

username lord i pray that this is about charles

maxverstappen1 you didn't hear it from me but he's giggling

-> yourusername tell him to stop giggling and help me chase those seagulls away

-> landonorris LEAVE MY SEAGULLS ALONE

-> yourusername THEY ATE MY SANDWICH

username rip y/n's hater girl era u will be missed 😞☝️

username i know charles is thoroughly enjoying this like

username i will get over a lot of things in life but i will never get over lando and max joining the y/l/n-leclerc vacation simply because they do not trust charles to do the sensible thing

-> yourusername actually they're all dumb

-> maxverstappen1 excuse you

-> yourusername u called grey "dark white"

-> maxverstappen1 I PAID TO KEEP QUIET

-> yourusername blocking out the haters 🫸🙄🫷

username forever entertained by this group they never disappoint

username need me a max and lando to get me a bf or whatever 🙄🙄🙄

username waiting for charles to come here and say some stupid shit before going on with my day !!!!

charles_leclerc i bet u think about me

-> yourusername nah bc no way ferrari can make u THIS delusional what's the cause

-> yourusername i am sorry i was told that i cannot say shit about ferrari clown private limited whatever corporation

-> username please never change

charles_leclerc i will make u pasta !!!!!!!!

-> yourusername no thank u i saw what happened to arthur

-> charles_leclerc THAT WAS NOT MY FAULT THE PASTA WAS NOT GOOD

-> yourusername skill issue

charles_leclerc where r u

-> yourusername why r u typing like that

-> charles_leclerc lando said it's cool

-> yourusername lando thinks birds don't have feet don't believe him

-> landonorris why am i catching strays

username WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE FACT THAT CHARLES LIED TO GET MAX AND LANDO ON VACATION 😭😭

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly, landonorris and 2,167,926 others

charles_leclerc we'd still worship this love

12,628 comments

username NAH WHO IS THIS MAN

username OH ??????

username false god lyrics imma die 🤣🤣🤣

username y/n effect is so real

username PLEASE NOT CHARLES SOFT LAUNCHING HIS EX 😭😭😭

-> username y'all put some respect on my girl's name 😭

-> yourusername i am no one's ex i will sue u for defamation

-> charles_leclerc for legal reasons she's JOKING

-> yourusername how do U know that tf

-> username i missed this

username hshshdjssjdjsjjsajjn;;;;;;;;bwywuuaj;...

username crying this is everything i've prayed for

username no one's mentioning the fact that charles wasn't even supposed to go on the vacation 😭😭😭

-> landonorris he booked his tickets and acted like it was a mistake

-> charles_leclerc you're a mistake

-> username and THAT'S how i know y/n and charles are back together 🤞🤞🤞

username i need a documentary on this vacation u don't GET it

username max and lando we trust u

maxverstappen1 you just pushed your love in water

-> charles_leclerc she told me i looked like tweety from looney toons

-> maxverstappen1 well

username crying i love every second of this

username i need to study this man's brain under a microscope like

-> username his thought process is just so UNIQUE

username i need them to confirm their relationship so i can breathe a sigh of relief thank u

username need me a man who posts like this

yourusername told u taylor swift songs slap

-> charles_leclerc highkey

yourusername i'm the most hilarious person ever idk why ur mad

-> charles_leclerc you called me tweety

-> yourusername hilarious

-> charles_leclerc my lover's got humour

-> yourusername OMGGGGG

yourusername we might just get away with this

-> charles_leclerc i told you, if you commit murder i will NOT be an accomplice

-> yourusername those are lyrics but fuck u too i guess

username i prayed for times like this 🤞🤞

≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱

charles_leclerc added to their instagram stories

≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, carmenmmundt and 1,972,628 others

yourusername well i'm still in love with u 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄 (❤️)

tagged charles_leclerc

comments are disabled for this post

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 2,126,891 others

charles_leclerc 2 out of 262819 photos where she stole my phone and the one (1) photo with me in it like okaaaaaaaaaay (🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯💯💯🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️)

tagged yourusername

12,728 comments

username NAHHH WHO TAUGHT HIM HOW TO TYPE LIKE THAT

username PLEASE OMG

username andddddddd we're 🔙 to having charles have a breakdown every single time y/n (HIS GIRLFRIEND) interacts with him

username god heard my prayers

username why do i have a feeling lando and max went EXTREME

-> yourusername if u call pushing us both off the yacht and not letting us back on until we said "hiiiiii" civilly to each other extreme, then yes. they were EXTREME.

-> charles_leclerc still mad about it. i said "hiiiii 😍😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰🥰😘😘😘😘" and you said "hi 😐😐😐😐."

-> yourusername sorry i was too busy finding ways to poison u then ❤️❤️❤️ im good and better now ❤️❤️❤️ (police and officials LOOK AWAY)

-> username netflix needs to leave dts and document THIS

username someone should write a book on this vacation and it should be max ☝️☝️☝️

username WAR IS OVERRRRR

username they're BACK god bless

username the way i KNOW charles is thanking max and lando on his knees like homeboy would be stuck without them fr

-> danielricciardo excuse you i was the mastermind

-> landonorris you literally did nothing except sit on ft for hours and yell at us.

-> danielricciardo tell that to all those thank you texts (money) charles sent me

-> landonorris YOU TOLD ME NO ONE WILL BE GETTING PAID charles_leclerc

-> charles_leclerc i sent him $1 because heidi asked me to

-> heidiberger_ he threatened to fly out to italy i did everyone a favour

username the y/n effect is coming back with full throttle like yeaaaaaaaaah

username i need a trilogy on this vacation like i need EVERYTHING

username the way i KNOW both of their families just rejoiced like they were going through it 😭😭😭

username everyday i wake up and thank the lord and heavens for daniel ricciardo, max verstappen and lando norris

yourusername i look so good wtfff

-> charles_leclerc yes you do 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

yourusername bébé ( baby )

-> charles_leclerc mon ange ( my angel )

yourusername soulmates 4 sure

-> charles_leclerc 👍

-> username lord i am not your strongest soldier

-> username why is he like this 😭😭😭

yourusername lowk missed taking 26271727 selfies on ur phone

-> charles_leclerc missed seeing your pretty face every time i opened my gallery 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

-> username y/n never leave him again please

-> username my man's TRAUMATISED

[solaarbeeam]

MAKE THAT SIX — FURIN FIRST YEAR SIX

TYPE — RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

SYNOPSIS — a look into your relationship with the furin first year six.

CHARACTERS — sakura haruka, suo hayato, nirei akihiko, kiryu mitsuki, tsugeura taiga, and sugeshita kyotaro

A/N:: i’d like to formally thank callum for getting the brain juices flowing cause DAMN i got SHIT TO SAY abt these five. ALSO!! nonnie if u find this, i did it <33 also! reader ks a member of bofurin, and is gender!neutral

— SAKURA HARUKA

— Oh my lord I’ve got a whole bunch of shit to say about this one.

— Please help this poor man out, he’s stressing over this so much.

— He’s already been voted grade captain, told that he’s formally trusted by the top dog of his school, and now he gets a significant other? He’s gonna break soon honey, if he hasn’t already.

— Expect that he has an issue with you getting hurt in fights even though you are a formal member of Bofurin and he has seen you fight long before the both of you got together. He knows you’re good at it and you can take care of yourself. He’s just a very worried softie :(

— Made Kiryu teach him how to use his phone in order to text you more often, even if you do see each other every day.

— Friendly spars! Fighting gives him joy and he’s a happy camper when he sees that you enjoy the sparring.

— Doesn’t know much about being a boyfriend but he always shares food with you even if you don’t ask for it.

— Lowkey ashamed to be out in public with you because of how he looks. He doesn’t want people looking at you weird because of him.

— Thought you were pranking him when you told him you loved him. He very much ran away. You had to go and chase him down for two hours to get the point across.

— Avid sleepovers at your house! He has the most peaceful sleeping face. Your wallpaper on your phone is him sleeping peacefully against one of your pillows.

— He absolutely screeched when he saw it too, by the way.

— Has major separation anxiety because of how he grew up. He needs you to be in eyeshot or somewhere he can easily find you.

— Has his location on all the time because why wouldn’t he? This man is loyal.

— Is the type to let you wear what you want because in his mind, you’ll just beat up whoever it is who’s bothering you. He’ll jump in if you want to jump them too.

— Nighttime walks. Even better when the stars are dotting the skies. It’s peaceful, and it makes him feel like he’s doing a good job with the whole boyfriend thing.

— Tugs on your Furin Jacket when he wants your attention.

— You absolutely sneak other clothes into his closet. His lack of opinions and choices are very concerning to you.

— Aquarium dates! He really likes sea life a lot and it’s cute to see him blushing from awe at all the dolphins and fishies!

— You have attempted to beat up his foster parents when they came through Makochi once. You, unluckily, didn’t get to because Suo and Nirei pulled up with the rest of the first year to run them out of town. He cried in your bed because he never thought people would care about him like that.

— His wallpaper is you and him holding hands on one of your night walks.

— Has let you put makeup on him before and let me tell you, Sakura Haruka is the prettiest man on the planet.

— You like to call his eyes pretty a lot. Like gemstones. No matter how many times you tell him, he still violently blushes and hides his face.

— The Grade Captain of Class 1-1 has a significant other, and he wouldn’t trade you for the world. No matter how much shenanigans you get into.

— SUO HAYATO

— Hm. The teasing gentleman. Let’s see..

— A certified back hugger. Mans does not care about PDA. If he wants to hug you, he will.

— Teaches you about his style of fighting sometimes, even though you fight similarly to Kiryu.

— Lets you wear his tassel earrings when you ask for them. He thinks they look adorable on you.

— He was so tempted to show off at the Tournament with Shishitoren just so you can see how good of a fighter he is.

— Will rant about tea flavors, although he doesn’t classify it as ranting. You do though, because that’s what it is, and it’s adorable to see him tall about the differences between flavors.

— He can’t cook for jack shit but let me tell you, that man can bake. Best believe you are a pastry taste tester for all his little baking experiments.

— You have absolutely pranked him with Natto in his food. This was the first of rare times you will ever catch him off guard.

— Beach walks. On the sand, on the coast line. That’s all I have to say.

— Can absolutely ballroom dance. He has ballroom danced with you at his house and is absolutely hoping you and him are forever so he can ballroom dance with you at your wedding.

— You sit on top of his desk at Furin whenever you can’t find a seat and drag it over.

— Absolutely almost flipped Tsubakino over because he thought he was trying to flirt, even though the both of you are first years. He was just caught off guard! All poor Tsubakino wanted to do was compliment you :(

— Kisses the back of your hand, similarly to princes in most modern royal media.

— Once again, this man does not give a flying fuck about PDA. If he wants to kiss you in front of the person taking your order at a fast food joint, he will and what are they going to do about it?

— Your wallpaper is him sitting on beach sand in the sunrise.

— His wallpaper is you doing something stupid. What can I say, he’s a tease. To himself, he’s a genius.

— He’s saved as Leonardo Dicaprio in your phone, for shits and giggles.

— Does the sidewalk rule expeditiously, even if your reflexes are better than most.

— Keeps his hand on the small of your back once you’re in big crowds

— Do all of us a favor and never team up in a fight, because the result? The opposing fighters are the finished.

— Assuming that under his eye he has a grotesque injury, you have very much kissed that injury senseless. Keep doing it, it makes him feel all warm and gooey inside.

— You baked gingerbread cookies together for Christmas. Umemiya came to raid them soon enough though.

— His mother loves you.

— Has already given you a promise ring. You wear it around your neck to prevent it from breaking while punching someone in a fight.

— If (more like WHEN) you get married, you were the one who got down on one knee and proposed to him. It was the closest he’d been to crying ever.

— Newsflash, he did cry.

— Will sling you over his shoulder no matter how much you weigh to assert dominance. He’s just a cheeky little shit.

— NIREI AKIHIKO

— GIVE MY BABY THE ASSURANCE HE NEEDS, OKAY??

— Okay but all jokes aside, reassure this man because he feels like dead weight to you all the time and he doesn’t want to be.

— Has a special page in his notebook just for you! Well, it’s more of a section really..

— He’s a cuddle bug. Give bro a bed, some blankets, a decently sized pillow and one order of you and it’ll be the best cuddles you’ve ever had.

— Texts you pictures of all the animals he sees when he’s doing solo patrols with Suo and Sakura.

— Your wallpaper of him is him petting one of the dogs in the neighborhood.

— Is the type to claim that you can and will beat someone in a fight whenever a non-Furin person claims they can fight.

— Do not, and I mean DO NOT, play tag with Nirei. You will lose. That man is a trackstar.

— Wash Day is your day, okay? That mam can and should be a licensed hairstylist. He will leave your hair looking gorgeous no matter what type you have from 1A all the way to 4C.

— His name in your phone is Pookie Bear. He died when he saw it.

— Your name in his phone is Heartie with multiple heart emojis after it.

— Lets you wear his hairclips and necklaces. He’s got too many to even comprehend.

— His love language is words of affirmation. You will never feel insecure with this boy (in his mind, that’s his job)

— Feels bad for forcing you to protect him all the time in fights but he’s always there to patch you up after.

— Speaking of patching up after, make this man a doctor as well cause the way you will NEVER, and I mean NEVER get sick when this man’s around is absolute.

— Is the fun fact king and will send you random, silly fun facts about anything and everything, it’s so cute.

— Amusement Park dates. Need I say more?

— He will share his food without asking. He wants you to try!

— His wallpaper is a collection of polaroid photos of the both of you after a Carnival Date.

— Nose kisses!! All day every day!!

— KIRYU MITSUKI

— Matching PFPs with you on every gaming platform you can think of. Is matching pfps with you on social media as well.

— Lets you pick out the piercings he wears during the day.

— You play with his Furin Jacket sleeves because their always drooping to a degree.

— You stare into his eyes as a pastime because they’re so??? gorgeous???? He has most definitely blushed because of it.

— Both of you are speed-based fighters so having the both of you tag team an opposing side is lethal work.

— Teasing. He’s not as bad as Suo but we’re not going to sit here and say that he’s not a tease.

— Makes a point to match with you when it comes to outfits to some degree, even if you don’t have the same style or taste.

— His wallpaper is you leaning back in a chair at Furin, with the sunrise hitting your face just right.

— Your wallpaper of him is him playing one of the many games on his phone.

— Speaking of phone, he has a separate album in his phone that’s full of pictures of you doing absolutely anything and everything.

— Is the type to egg you on into versing him in a game knowing he’s better just to see you get all pouty when you lose. He thinks its cute until you legitimately crash out.

— You’re in his pinned on his phone.

— Most definitely has a moodboard of the both of you, mostly shenanigans the both of you would get up to, but the rest of it is legitimate sweetness.

— You are saved in his phone as ‘My Player #2’. I don’t make the rules, you just are.

— Boba!! His favorite kind of dates are when you go around trying different foods and drinks. He’ll always get your favorite eventually though.

— Buys funny shirts on purpose to make you laugh. He also buys funny hoodies and puts them in your closet on purpose. That’s right, you don’t even have to ask.

— Lets you paint his nails. He’s a pretty princess, all he needs is to have it shown on the outside.

— Also lets you use his hair clips a lot! You and h have matching ones you wear with designated outfits.

— Matching phone cases on the month of your anniversary. I know I’m talking about matching a lot, but I think that matching with your significant other is a very Kiryu-coded thing to do.

— Karaoke nights with him are the absolute best.

— TSUGEURA TAIGA

— Yall. I have feelings about this one.

— Uses kisses as motivation to continue on with his workout routines. Yes, if you slide under him while he’s doing push ups, he will kiss you.

— Is a weighted blanket personified. In winter time you can and will be cozy.

— Love languages are words of affirmation and physical touch. However, he’s aggressive with the words of affirmation, the opposite of Nirei.

— Piggy back rides all day every day. Doesn’t matter where you are or who you’re around. As long as he’s got two arms, shoulders, and some upper body strength? Piggy back rides.

— It’s literally canon that he wears shorts in the winter. Do with that what you will.

— Gym couple gym couple gym couple!! Instagram and TikTok love them some of you two. You set weight-lifting goals together.

— Unstoppable Push and Immovable Force-coded.

— Most definitely asked what your aesthetic and virtue was when he first met you.

— You and him are often called the parents of the group because he’s the oldest first year.

— Intertwines his legs with yours when hand-holding isn’t an option.

— Gives you his bandanas after he’s washed them because he thinks they make you look so cute.

— His wallpaper is his arm wrapped around your waist in the gym mirror after a difficult workout.

— Don’t get hurt in a fight, please. He knows you can take care of yourself but that man is a brawler-coded fighter so pray for whoever managed to catch you off guard.

— He knows how to rollerskate so he’ll take you to roller skating rinks as dates! The rinks that he picks out always have the best food too.

— He canonically wears shorts in the winter, but sometimes he does to purposefully annoy you or get your attention. It works, but he’s being adorably stupid.

— I personally think that he would have you saved as your nickname, but it a cutesy way. He doesn’t see the point in making it elaborate when he can show you how much he loves you in real life.

— Is also a manhandler but most of the time it’s not on purpose. He’s just a very excited overgrown puppy man and sometimes he can’t tone it down, give my baby a break, okay?

— Charm Bracelets!! Whenever he works out, he takes them off because he will feel the absolute worst if they break. You will not be able to console him.

— He smells like tropical fruit by the way. It’s very pleasant, he blushes every time you tell him you smell good.

— Is also an avid sidewalk rule follower. In public, he’ll put one arm around your shoulders.

— Eventually the both of you get manipedi’s together because what’s the point of him having his dogs out all the time if his toes aren’t done?

— He is a TDI junkie and absolutely believes the theory that Chris MClain slowly loses his sanity throughout the show, and that Izzy was actually raised in the forest where Camp Wawanaka resided. You have heard and witnessed enough rants for several lifetimes.

— Is a huge fan of the goth duo from The Ridonculous Race because they apparently remind him of Suo because of how nonchalant he is. You cackled when he first told you.

— SUGESHITA KYOTARO

— If I’m going to be honest, him and Sakura are in the same boat in the sense that they do not know how to boyfriend.

— But it goes a little like this.

— He’s touch starved to no end so you have to fo at your own pace with him. Sometimes he’ll lean in, sometimes he’ll stand away at a certain radius. He loves you, you just gotta be patient.

— He doesn’t have preferences for anything, as stated in canon, so you often take him out so you can find his likes and dislikes and his absolutely no-go’s whatsoever.

— He, like Tsuge, will not save you as anything really special or cutesy in his phone because that’s what you have him in real life for.

— He fell in love with you by realizing that he gave more of a shit if you got hurt while fighting than the rest of the first years, Anzai included.

— Remember when I said that Nirei should be a licensed hairstylist? Well, Sugeshita over here might as well be the god of anything that has to do with hair.

— He has matching hair accessories with you too. It’s subtle, but he likes it that way. It makes him happy.

— Umemiya is practically his dad, just know that Umemiya approves.

— Only lets you play around in his hair. He does NOT play about his hair, lemme tell you that right now. It’s a sign of trust.

— Speaking of fighting, he prefers protecting you than to you fighting with him or beside him. He knows it’s somewhat wrong, because you’re not a member of Bofurin for nothing, but he has enough confidence in himself to protect you.

— It also makes him feel better about being a boyfriend, he doesn’t want to let you down in any way, shape, or form.

— You paid for his hair treatment once for his birthday and he actually almost cried.

— He is saved in your phone as “Kyo 🩷”, yes, he did lash out but it was very much adorable.

— Bought the both of you those matching Pandora puzzle necklaces. He flicks it at people in fights to assert dominance. He fiddles with it a lot with soft expressions. He loves you a lot, okay?

— On that note, sometimes the both of you absentmindedly flick your pendants at the same time as a way to say “yes, they’re mine, and yes, we will both beat your ass” on some telepathy thing.

— You took him out shopping till you dropped for his birthday and he almost cried in the middle of the restaurant.

— Lets you style his hair all the time. Half up-half downs, full ponytails, braid backs, and very rarely, he’ll let you curl his ends.

— He’s besties with the other first years because you pushed him to get some social interaction in. However, he’s an introvert and antisocial at heart so you know his social battery can only take so much.

— Matching hoodies. That’s all.

— His wallpaper is you in one of his graphic hoodies. He was super-duper happy about it. He really is a softie at heart.

— Doesn’t like traditional stuff all that much so instead of a regular date at a restaurant for Valentine’s, he did a rooftop date.

— “Why do I have to be like everyone else? I’m gonna be different.” - What he told Tsubakino.

— Is a sucker for bear hugs. Please bear hug him, he will melt like chocolate.

— Loves getting his hair brushed. Please do it for him. He’ll melt even more.

— He’s a biter. He bites to show love. He’s a chewer. Let him chew.

— Obsessed with self-care so he’ll make days for the both of you to do it together. Sometimes it’ll even be a date, especially when both of your individual products and the products you share are almost finished.

© solaarbeeam 2024.

[saphronethaleph]

Literary Illusions

“It’s ironic,” Palpatine said, shaking his head. “He could save others from death, but not himself.”

Anakin frowned.

“And this is something the Jedi wouldn’t have told me?” he asked.

“Of course not,” Palpatine replied. “Is it a story you’ve heard?”

“Well, yes,” Anakin said. “Just now, from you. But not before then… and that surprises me, Chancellor.”

Palpatine shrugged. “I think you’ll find, Anakin, that the Jedi have not been telling you everything.”

“Maybe not, but… honestly, that sounds like exactly the kind of thing they’d tell me,” Anakin said.

Palpatine frowned.

“...what?” he asked.

“You know,” Anakin said. “Some Sith Lord works out how to bring people back to life from the dead, but his apprentice kills him and doesn’t bring him back to life because the Sith are inherently self destructive. If the two of them had worked together and been able to trust one another, they’d have been immortal.”

He shrugged. “It’s a good illustration of the inherently self destructive nature of the Dark Side, and it’s the dichotomy of how the Dark Side leads you to seek power in order to achieve goals that you then discard as irrelevant, because they’re not directly related to gaining power… hold on a second.”

Palpatine was a little distracted by trying to avoid mentally kicking himself, so it took him somewhat more than a second to notice what Anakin was doing.

“...Anakin?” he said. “Are you getting your comlink out?”

“Yeah,” Anakin replied. “Going to text Obi-Wan, ask him what he thinks of the story. Maybe there’s some kind of detail I missed which makes it less of a good illustration of the different worldviews and mindsets of the Jedi and the Sith.”

The Knight shrugged, his thumbs tapping away at his comlink. “He probably knows it, he knows all of the old stories.”

Palpatine blinked several times.

“...don’t,” he said, then very discreetly scrambled for a reason why. “It’s the middle of a performance. We don’t want to interrupt them.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s on silent,” Anakin replied, with a shrug. “Or vibrate. Did I put it on vibrate… hang on, Chancellor, I’ll make sure it’s on silent…”

He turned the comlink over, then a loud bwing sounded.

“Oh, right, I forgot to set it to do not disturb mode,” Anakin said. “Hang on… uh… yeah, there we go, I forgot I added all these custom modes. I’ve been missing a lot of sleep lately.”

“Perhaps-” Palpatine began, but Anakin spoke over him.

“Huh,” he said. “He says he’s never heard of it either. Wants to know where I heard about it, it looks like he’s really interested… or maybe he’s trying to tell me about a death stick vendor, he’s terrible with multiglyphs and he thinks he’s good at them.”

Anakin glanced at the Chancellor, hoping for some solidarity, then visibly noticed that the Chancellor was several decades older than him and abandoned that.

“Is there a book I can get the whole story from?” he asked, instead. “Obi-Wan is better at nuances, like I say.”

“That is not the point,” Palpatine said, trying not to get visibly angry. “The point is that there is a way to save your loved ones!”

“Maybe there used to be, but not any more,” Anakin shrugged. “Like you said, this was a Sith thing and the Sith are all dead. Well, unless General Grievous is a Sith who knows how to heal people, but I doubt it given how much he got hurt, and I’m not sure Dooku knew it either… hey, if this story needs to be publicized more then maybe we could have them do a play of that instead?”

Palpatine blinked several times, as he tried to keep up with a Jedi with possible undiagnosed ADHD and found himself discovering a lack of talent for podracing.

“What?” he asked.

“You know, a play,” Anakin explained. “Dramatic betrayals, lost loved ones, it would probably do numbers. It’d be better than this, anyway.”

He waved his hand at the ongoing performance of Squid Lake.

“...what is wrong with Squid Lake?” Palpatine said, before reflecting that that had really been a stupid question for him to ask and that he should have asked a much better one.

“Well, uh,” Anakin began, looking a bit abashed. “Actually now I say it out loud this might be really culturally insensitive of me, but to me this play might as well be eighty minutes of people boasting about having enough water to swim in.”

“It’s a ballet,” Palpatine told him, now completely having lost control of the conversation.

“It’s just a less scary version of Sarlacc Pit,” Anakin went on. “Someone tried to drown me in a lake once, because they thought I couldn’t swim, but floating on sand is much harder, you barely have to do anything to escape a lake. You just float.”

Very belatedly, Anakin caught sight of Palpatine’s look of total befuddlement, and shrugged.

“Watto was a lot of things,” he said. “But he had culture.”

Palpatine’s hands twitched, as he very seriously considered the idea of abandoning literal centuries of Sith planning and decades of personal political advancement in favour of stabbing Anakin somewhere it would hurt.

It was extraordinarily tempting.

“...hold on,” Anakin said, slowly. “I guess… the thing I’d like most at the moment is for… and that means… this is literally one of those times when I could fall to the Dark Side because of it, like Darth Plagueis.”

He bestowed a grateful smile on Palpatine. “Thanks, Chancellor! I need to make a call, I guess the ballet won’t mind.”

Palpatine was so thrown by the swerve that he couldn’t think of a way to stop Anakin in the few seconds he had.

“Love?” Anakin said, into his commlink. “I… think we need to come clean, because otherwise I’ll fall to the Dark Side.”

Palpatine’s eye twitched.

[entitled-fangirl]

howl at the moon.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Summary: The Boltons wish to correct their behaviors and win back the Stark's favor for a previous mishap. But a Stark should never trust a Bolton.

Warnings: cursing, blood, physical fighting, poisoning, death, pleading for life

A/n: based on an ask! This is one of my darkest ones, so please read at your discretion!

Masterlist

.............................................................

Cregan groaned as he stretched, sitting up in bed and looking over to the sleeping form next to him.

He hummed happily at seeing the woman lying beside him with her messy hair and a grin even in the dream world.

He leaned over, smoothing the hair from her forehead to place a kiss there. 

She shifted at the feeling and soon, her eyes peered up into his, puffy with the aftereffects of sleep.

Cregan smiled before he willed himself up from bed to begin dressing to break fast.

"Joining me this morning, pretty girl?" He asked over his shoulder. 

She sat up, holding the furs to cover herself. "Perhaps I need a good reason to."

His smile turned to a grin when he turned around to look at her, "And perhaps I have a good reason."

She let out a soft laugh, "Oh really? Pray tell, my lord."

He took steps to her side of the bed, each one heavy to match the darkening look in his eyes as he neared her. "Am I not a good enough reason, wife?"

A teasing grin came to her lips, "Prove it."

His eyes lit up with a fire. He threw his leg over her, pulling himself onto the bed above her. He leaned down to brush his lips against hers, "Perhaps I need to."

They skipped breakfast entirely.

…

"Any word from the prince?"

Cregan shrugged, "Not yet. I don't believe we should hold our breath either way. We have other matters currently to attend to."

The men at the council table all nodded in tandem. 

"If that is all," Cregan sighed. "We're done here."

They all stood, giving various words of thanks as they left. 

Cregan stood and pulled his cloak over him, stopping when one of the men approached him. 

"My lord, may we speak?"

The Lord of Winterfell nodded, "Speak your mind, Bolton."

Lord Bolton sighed, "I fear I've angered you. And if I have, I owe you a plea of forgiveness."

That was the understatement of the century. 

Bolton had wished since his daughter was born that she be betrothed to Cregan. In fact, Rickon Stark had actually heard out the man's plea years before. 

But she was far too young, and it left a bad taste in Cregan's mouth at the thought. 

Denied of it, Bolton had left in a huff, nearly cursing the Stark name as he went.

That was years ago, and things had calmed.

But the wound had reopened when Cregan took Y/n to wife. 

She was no northerner. 

And Bolton hated her for it.

He had grown rather defiant of Stark's commands after the announcement of their betrothal, and it seems even after the wedding, things hadn't changed.

Until now.

Cregan grunted, "I am a man that does not pretend, Bolton. Do you wish for my forgiveness because you are truly regretful, or only because your defiance has gotten you nowhere?"

Bolton let out a tense smile, "Indeed, I am ambitious, my lord. But I truly wish happiness upon you and our lady of Winterfell."

Cregan bit his lip as he stared at the man. After all this, he's suddenly sorry?

He walked past the man, exiting the meeting room and calling over his shoulder, "I'll forgive you when I see improvement."

He then turned around, "I'm a man of action, Bolton. You better be as well." And continued down the hall as if the interaction had not happened at all.

But it seemed Bolton had been adamant about it because his son was begging forgiveness from the lady at the same time.

…

"I don't understand," Y/n said with a tilt of her head.

Randall Bolton, Lord Bolton's only heir, walked with her outside of the stone walls of Winterfell.

"My father… he… he was rather upset when my sister didn't become a Stark. I suppose he's feeling regretful that now that you're here."

She nodded, "I see." She mulled it over before asking, "Well, Cregan didn't swear to it, did he?"

"No, no he didn't. His father only entertained the idea. Nothing became of it."

She hummed as they continued their walk. She finally stopped to fully look at him, "I have no ill will towards your family, if that is of any reassurance. However," she paused. "I will not speak for Cregan. I will not make him decide based on me alone."

Randall smiled, "That's all I wished for. The last thing I want is the Lady of Winterfell to be angry with me. I don't believe I'd rest at night with that knowledge."

She laughed lightly, "Then I do hope you rest well tonight."

"I surely will, my lady."

Another smile from her, "Wonderful. I must return to my duties, but I do hope we get to speak again."

"As do I."

The two walked in opposite directions before he stopped, "You know, I've just considered this."

She turns to look at him.

"Should Lord Stark truly give us his forgiveness, perhaps you'll visit the Dreadfort."

"I wouldn't wish to intrude-"

"-Nonsense." He smiled, "It is on the way to the Wall. Next time Lord Stark makes his trek there, we will be happy to house him." He paused, "And you, of course, if you accompany him."

She nodded, "That sounds lovely. I'd like that. Thank you."

…

"They're all pigs, really."

"Cregan!"

"They are!"

She sighed lightly and leaned back against the headboard of their bed, pulling her legs up, "You're too firm."

He turned to her. His eyes softened a bit at the sight of her so comfortable on their bed. He let out a soft breath. "And you're too kind."

"How are they to prove themselves if you never give them the chance?"

Cregan grunted, "If they want my approval so badly, they should not have acted so in the first place."

She rested her head on her knees as she looked at him, "Can you blame a man for wanting the best for his daughter?"

He whipped his head around to her at her words. 

Perhaps he hadn't considered it like that.

She continued, "If there was even a slight hint that your daughter could do well in life, would you not push for it all you could?"

He stared at her, his eyes studying intensely. "One chance. A disapproving stare and I'll gut them all."

She threw her head back with a laugh, "You cannot gut every man you disagree with!"

He grinned, "It's not for me. It's for you."

Her brows furrowed.

"I'll not have disrespect to my girl, that I promise you."

…

"Got everything, my love?" He asked. 

She tried to answer, but was too occupied trying to tie the strings of her cloak together with gloved fingers.

He let out a breathy chuckle, "C'mere, girl."

He gripped the strings with ease, beginning to tie them.

She tried to look down at it, but he gently pushed her chin up with one of his fingers, "Can't see when you do that."

She opted then to stare at the broad man in front of her. So focused on tying the strings of his little wife's cloak.

Once done, he shifted the cloak, righting it on her shoulders, then running his hands up and down her arms to make heat for her, "You're ready?"

She nodded, and the two moved to begin their long trek.

…

The Dreadfort wasn't as far as she had thought it was. 

And thought it had fort in the name, she still didn't expect it to be as intimidating as it was.

But Randall and Lord Bolton were quick to greet the group.

Cregan made no effort to initially return the greeting as he moved off his horse and immediately go to hers to help her down.

She was the first to speak to them, and all the while, Cregan kept a steady and firm hand on her at all times. 

It was one thing to beg for his forgiveness, but to use his girl for her empathy so easily?

They played her like a fiddle, and he hated the sound of it.

…

A few hours of rest and recovery and the two found themselves dressing for supper.

"They've been kind thus far, Cregan. You have to give them room to improve."

He let out a long sigh as he buttoned his vest.

She took that as answer enough.

She turned to the mirror, righting the dress on her as reached behind herself to tie it.

She stared down at the ground in concentration of what she was feeling, and almost jumped when his fingers joined hers.

"C'mere, pretty. We'll be here all day if you do it like that," he teased.

She laughed lightly and pulled her hands away to let him do it.

It wasn't the first time Cregan had messed with the thin strings of her gowns.

All the practice had made him quite good at it.

He leaned into her, "This is their one chance."

"But if you are constantly looking for something to be wrong, then you have no intention of finding them right."

His jaw clenched and he accidentally pulled too tight, making him let out a soft apology before continuing, "I have trusted them with the most precious thing I have. What more of a chance can I supply them with?"

She looked up at him in the mirror, "And what's that?"

He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, "Must I say it?"

Realization dawned on her and she smiled, "Am I truly the most precious thing you have?"

He had to hold in the laugh he procured at her question. "If I am truly a wolf, my love, then perhaps you are the moon."

She hummed as he finished tying her dress.

Once finished, he pulled her back into his chest to speak lowly in her ear, "You are truly like the moon to me."

She leaned against him with a furrowed brow as they looked in the mirror. 

When she said nothing, he continued, "I am drawn to you, pretty. I dunno why. I'm like a wolf, hunting every night, desperate to satisfy a hunger for something I don't understand." 

His grip on her tightened, "And so, I call out, hoping that the one thing that is my greatest asset is listening for me. A bright moon that lights my path."

He kissed the side of her head, "You know, my father once told me that he believe that wolf and the moon to be great lovers when on earth together."

She finally spoke up, "A legend?"

He shrugged, "Dunno. But father said their love was so strong that it outshone the gods, so they were punished and separated at death. Now stuck for eternity, yearning for one another but shall never feel the other's warmth again."

She let out a breath and placed her hands on his around her waist. "Then I don't want to be the moon."

He leaned down to kiss her shoulder, "Why's that?"

"I don't want to be separated from you."

He smiled, "Neither do I, my girl." He let her go and moved to pick up his boots, "Let us finish here before we're late to sup."

…

With a little bit of wine, Cregan had managed to relax. 

In fact, he even smiled a few times. 

"And then he brought me a donkey!" Randall announced the punchline.

The table erupted in laughs.

Y/n turned to Cregan, absolutely enamored with his laugh. 

And when his arm stretched over the back of her chair as well, she had to cross her legs to keep herself focused.

Her husband leaned over to her, "Not hungry much?"

She looked down to her plate that had been hardly picked at, "Weary from the journey, I believe."

"You know," Lord Bolton said as he leaned forward. "We have an incredible collection of tapestries hanging in one of our corridors. Perhaps Randall could show you."

She looked to the Lord, Randall, then to Cregan. Cregan stared back in silent communication.

She sipped her wine steadily then nodded, "Yes, that sounds lovely."

Cregan stood and held an arm out to help her up, which she took. 

She turned to him and placed her other hand on his chest. "I'll retire after for the night." She tilted her head, "Enjoy yourself, but don't leave me waiting too long, my wolf."

He grinned, "I wouldn't dare."

She laughed lightly and moved to Randall, but a confused emotion ran over her face.

"You alright, Lady Stark?" Randall asked. 

She nodded, "Yes. Yes, I'm just fine."

Cregan watched them carefully until they were out of range. 

…

"And this one," Randall pointed out, "was weaved by my great grandmother. They said she predicted the choosing of King Viserys over Princess Rhaenys."

She looked up with a furrowed brow, "Do you believe that?"

He smiled, "No."

She hummed and moved towards the tapestry, but her legs buckled on her before she could and she fell to her knees.

Randall was quick to move to her. He crouched down, "My lady, are you alright?"

She held a hand to her forehead. Everything was spinning so fast. 

"Let me grab the maester-"

"-I don't-"

"-Stop. I'll not have my Lady Stark ill."

He made quick work to barking at a servant to find the maester.

He practically picked her up himself, helping her to her chambers.

…

"Lord Stark," one of the servants interrupted.

Lord Bolton grumbled, "This better be important."

"My lord, your presence has been requested in your chambers."

Cregan's brow furrowed. That was unlike his wife.

Bolton grinned, "Perhaps you've kept the lass waiting too long. Needy little things, wives."

The servant shook her head, "The maester was fetched for the lady, my lord."

Cregan immediately moved to his feet, not caring about the chair that fell over loudly at the force. 

"Lord Stark," Bolton started.

"I have no time," Cregan stated with no hesitation.

And he made quick work to journeying down the halls of the fort to her. 

…

"Why not? I don't understand," A voice whispered in one of the corridors.

Cregan paused, moving down the hall towards the sound.

"I'm sorry, but that was my order." A new voice.

"And what if I'm the one demanding something?" The first voice asked angrily.

"I follow your father, not you, Randall. I'm sorry."

Randall.

"You're the fucking maester, you can't just-"

"I do what I am told. As should you."

Cregan's eyes widened and he began to travel faster, hoping to relieve the horrid pain that started in his heart.

…

When he entered their chambers, she laid asleep on the bed, the furs pulled over her to preserve heat. 

But her skin was already too pale and a layer of sweat had formed. 

Cregan cursed lightly as he sat on the bed. 

What the hell had happened so suddenly?

His hand started to shake as he brought it up to her face.

Her skin was cold. 

He began to shake his head in denial. 

The maester entered and Cregan jumped. "Forgive me, my lord. I did not mean to frighten you."

Cregan felt weak. He had never felt weak before.

The maester moved to the bed, "We've done all we can for her. It's a passing illness. Only time will heal it."

His teeth began to grind. "I don't believe you."

The man looked thrown off, "My lord?"

Cregan grabbed the man by the tunic and shoved him to the wall, growling in his face with a fire that was terrified of being extinguished. "You're letting her die."

The maester's breath quickened and denied his words, "My lord, I'm doing all I can."

"What's keeping me from ripping your throat out here now?" Cregan asked with a set jaw.

"I… um… I suppose nothing my lord."

"Then fucking work."

But when Cregan released him, he ran from the room.

He growled and moved to follow him when a cough sounded from the bed.

A groggy and weak voice came from the woman, "Cre…Cregan."

He moved to her, pulling her hand in his as he sat on the bed, "I'm here, my girl."

She let out a whine, "It all hurts."

He nodded, "I know."

She stared at him in thought as hot tears flooded her eyes.

"Am I going to die, Cregan?"

A breath involuntarily left his throat. 

He'd seen death. Looked it in the eyes himself. Watched it take everything from him. His father. His brother. Kings and rulers fell everyday at its hands. 

He couldn't let it do this to him. 

He shook his head, "No. No, my girl. You'll live."

They both knew it was a lie.

When the tears began to run down her face, he cradled her to his chest like she was glass. 

"Don't let me die, Cregan! Please, please. I'll… I'll be good. Please… d…don't let me go!"

He stared at the wall in pure fear. 

When had he ever felt fear?

He wasn't sure he had before.

He'd have recognized the feeling of that twisting in his gut with every sound of her sobs.

She began to hiccup profusely and he was practically holding her up all by himself.

He pulled her flush against him.

"Shhh… you've gotta breathe for me. Please. Please."

All of a sudden, there was silence. 

He just stared at the wall. He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.  

He didn't want to look at her. But human nature made him yearn to look disaster in the eye.

He pulled her from his shoulder.

Dead.

The sound that ripped out of Cregan's throat was animalistic. 

And he pulled her to him once again, rocking her back and forth in an attempt to comfort her. 

Even he knew it was in vain, but he couldn't bring himself to do anything else.

…

"I'll kill you!" Randall roared.

"Keep your fucking voice down," Bolton cursed.

"You're killing an innocent girl for what? Revenge? On something that never happened?"

Bolton's eyes locked into stone, "Don't speak on something you don't know, boy."

Cregan walked in, a mere shell. 

His eyes were looking nowhere and everywhere all at once, as if waiting for a hidden truth to reveal itself. 

To wake up from a dream. 

Bolton feigned innocence, "Is everything alright, my lord?"

"She's dead."

Oh fuck.

A breath escaped Randall and he began to shake his head, "I can't sit by with this."

"Randall-"

"My lord," Randall ran forward to Cregan. "My lord, he's plotted th-"

"-Quiet!" Bolton yelled.

But Cregan had heard it.

His eyes slowly wandered up from the ground to the older man's body, each inch giving him more life.

When they settled on the Bolton's face, the wolf of the north was seething.

His voice was so low, it sounded like thunder, "I'll have your fucking head."

"Now, Stark-" he tried to reason.

Cregan marched forward, quickly closing the distance between them before he grabbed him by the tunic and landed a heavy punch in the face.

Blood seeped from the man's nose, but Cregan was far from finished with him.

Servants rushed forward to stop him, but Randall quickly aided him in keeping them away.

Cregan landed hit after hit on the man.

And when he fell to the ground, it only spurred Cregan on. 

Blood stained his hands, tunic, pants, even his hair. 

Cregan didn't care.

When the man let out a bloody smile, and Cregan's hand faltered.

The man spit blood to the side, "Maybe if the bitch hadn't indulged herself in the wine, she'd have this by now."

He pulled a vial from his pocket. 

An antidote.

Cregan turned into an animal, panting harshly with a wild look in his eyes.

He only saw red, completely out of reason with his actions. 

Only when Randall had physically pulled him from the man did he come back to.

Bolton's face was unidentifiable. 

And Cregan finally felt the stick residue of the blood on his hands. 

It felt like it stained beyond his hands. Deep into the bone.

He sat on the ground, holding back the overwhelming urge to cry.

…

Never did a day pass where Cregan didn't wear the vial around his neck.

And he couldn't bring himself to leave the walls of Winterfell when the moon was out there to greet him.

A painful reminder of what had passed.

She had said she didn't want to be the moon.

So he had to promise himself to not become the wolf.

However, it didn't stop his howling at night in dreams, yearning for the love he had lost due to the jealousy of not the gods, but man.

..................................................................

Cregan Stark taglist: @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @callsignwidow, @8812-342, @nyxbranwenn,

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: Tangerine and Lemon learn more about the young woman they'd been hired to save and things become complicated. pt. 2 to Delicate

Genre: hurt and comfort

Warnings: protective!Tangerine, canon like violence, swearing, blood, guns, wounds, mentions of domestic violence/violence towards women, plot heavy

~ thank you @oh-starstarstar for giving me the inspiration to write this! It took a VERY different turn then what i originally intended but it's an interesting ride—hopefully! ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

Y/n. Tangerine mouths your name as he stares into the bathroom mirror, his toothbrush hanging from his lips. Y/n. The name suits you and warmth spreads inside his stomach as he spits into the sink and his mind is filled with memories of how sweetly you'd looked at him.

Fuck. 

"Oi," Lemon's hurried voice snaps him out of whatever was happening and Tangerine turns to him, leaning his hip against the counter. "Some weird fucker is on the phone," Lemon shows his brother his phone, an unknown number displayed clearly on the screen. "Says we have something of his."

Tangerine bristles and his jaw clenches involuntarily. He holds out his hand for Lemon to hand him the phone and when he does he puts it on speaker and holds it close to his ear, letting Lemon lean in and hear the conversation. 

"'Ello?"

"You have something of mine," a hoarse voice cuts the silence. The man behind the phone sounds older, like his voice has had time to become damaged from years of smoking, and he has a thick Irish accent.

"And what might that be?" Tangerine retorts, sending Lemon an unsure look but he keeps his tone steady.

"You have my wife."

Tangerine feels like all blood has been drained from his body and he's so close to losing it. His grip tightens on the phone as his eyes narrow.

"Fuckin' pardon me? Your wife?" he asks slowly, processing the words himself. Surely this man can't mean you.  

The man chuckles darkly. "Aye. You stole her. Took my girl. Wasted my fucking time. I want to know why?" 

Lemon looks at Tangerine, his eyes round with panic as he automatically crosses his arms. 

"I have no fuckin' clue what you're on about," Tangerine explains calmly, his voice strained. He grips the end of the counter with one hand, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. He doesn't want to tell this rando he has you at home with him and Lemon. He doesn't trust this fucker.

The man laughs darkly. "Defiance isn't smart, boy," the man says vaguely, his tone the same as before; hard and rough. "I don't like smug fuckers who take my things. I want my wife returned to me."

Tangerine pauses as he waits for the word 'safely' or any indication that this man who claims to be your husband cares for you. None come and his frown deepens. "We don't have anyone with us," he lies easily. "Now, why don't ya fuckin' leave me–"

Another cruel laugh sounds from the phone. "You and your brother are really startin' to piss me off," the man pauses and then asks, "I shouldn't have to introduce myself, should I?"

Lemon and Tangerine's expression hardens when they hear a gunshot and then a muffled scream that's followed by a heavy, dramatic, sigh. "See, I really did like that bloke—good guy, loyal, had a family and shit—" Tangerine's jaw clenches as he realizes how truly fucked this man is. "Now, I don't like you—you don't really wanna find out what I'd do to you, do you?" he threatens. 

"Cut the bullshit," Tangerine snaps, "Who the fuck are ya?"

"Moore, Keiran Moore," the man introduces himself after a moment. Tangerine's skin pales slightly and he's almost too distracted by Lemon's curse-whispering and insistent punches into the air, to fully register what that means. You? Married to Keiran Moore? One of the more dangerous Irish crime lords in central London?

Tangerine has so many questions swarming around him but Kieran's voice interrupts his thoughts. "Tomorrow. 9am. I'll have my men send you the location. Cross me again and I'll make a fruit salad out of you both, you understand me?" he chuckles at his own shitty joke and then the line ends.

Lemon snatches the phone from Tangerine's hand.

"Irish mob?! Really?" he hisses. "I told ya we should'av brought her to the cops! She's fuckin' trouble and it's biting us back in the arse!" 

Tangerine narrows his eyes at his brother and drags a hand in his curls. "You believe him?"

"You don't?!" Lemon counters, sounding exasperated as he hits Tangerine on the back of the head. "Stop thinkin' with yer fuckin' dick and be smart. She's married. To some dangerous fucker!!" he scolds and Tangerine feels like this is karma for all the years he's been the one to scold Lemon for stupid shit. 

Still, he isn't convinced. 

"I didn't see a ring on her finger, Lemon."

"Ya, because the arseholes that kidnapped Kieran Moore's wife probably took her wedding ring, you wanker!!" Lemon throws his hand up in defeat and exhaustion, "I'm not havin' this conversation with you right now. Why don' ya ask her yourself, hm?" 

Tangerine looks down the hallway. "She's probably sleepin' by now," he starts, knowing damn well he needs to talk to you. He needs to understand more because he's so damn confused.

Lemon sends him an annoyed look that he understands immediately and he swallows. Lemon isn't in any clear state of mind to question you without freaking you out—plus Tangerine's specialty is nonchalance. He can handle this easily. 

His walk to the guest bedroom seems longer than usual as he plays every scenario in his head, his hand clenching and unclenching. He knocks on the door, hearing your small voice answer. It's late and he instantly feels like an arse when he opens the door and sees your figure sitting up in bed, reaching over and turning on the lamp on the nightstand as the curtains are drawn shut. You turn and stare at him.

"Hi, darlin'," he whispers calmly, approaching you. You send him a nod of permission before he sits next to you on your bed. You shift and Tangerine can clearly see that your eyes are red and tired from your lack of sleep and from crying. His heart breaks and he swallows down the irritating lump forming in his throat. 

"I have some questions, Y/n, and I'm gonna need ya to be honest with me, you think ya can do that?" he begins, his hand itching to touch your leg and reassure any nerves that may be arising but he holds himself back. He waits for a nod andthen he continues. "Do ya know some bloke named Keiran Moore?"

As soon as the question leaves his lips, he sees the change in your expression. You sink into yourself, hand clutching the sheets as your breathing becomes harsher again.

Tangerine's worry increases and he holds out his hands for you to show you he still doesn't mean you any harm. He understands this is a lot to take in. "Woah, hey, it's okay. Ya know him, don' ya?" 

You nod meekly and alarm bells ring in Tangerine's head.

Her husband my arse—he thinks. 

"I need ya to tell me everything now. I can't help ya if you aren't completely honest with me. I know it's scary but Lemon and I truly mean you no harm. Ya can trust us," Tangerine explains as relief washes over you when he sees you relax and focus on calming your breathing.

"O-okay," you say after a moment, your voice so soft and delicate that Tangerine feels all kinds of emotions stir inside him. He looks at you, his gaze reassuring so you can continue. He needs to know everything and he wants to know it from you. 

"My father, his name is—'' you tell Tangerine your father's name in a whisper and his eyes narrow. Everyone in his line of business knows that name, only he never knew someone so ruthless and supposedly cruel had a daughter. 

"He promised me to Mr. Moore—some business arrangement I'm not sure— and I'm supposed to marry him. It's all a blur. I just– I didn't tell you and your brother because I didn't want you to return me to Mr. Moore. He's a brute and he's mean a-and—I- I tried to run once and he beat me—and once we're married he'll want me to do things. Things I don't want to do with him," you finish your rambles, your voice low.

The words sink in and Tangerine's jaw clenches. He knows what you mean and the thought makes his stomach twist with disgust. He inhales, holding in his fury for your sake since he doesn't want to scare you any more than you already are. 

"What do ya mean ya ran? You were living with him when you were kidnapped?"

You frown now, staring at Tangerine with a sincerely confused expression. "Kidnapped? I wasn't kidnapped. I told you, Daddy sold me to him."

It's Tangerine's turn to frown. 

"What?" he pauses, "So, your fiancé isn't the one who paid us to save you from your kidnappers?"

"Paid you? Kidnappers?"

"That doesn't matter now, darlin', but you're telling me technically we are the ones who kidnapped you from your fiancé?!" 

You chew on your lip, thinking for a moment. "I suppose?" 

Tangerine pinches the bridge of his nose and then he looks up at you, his eyes raking over you. You look terrified and confused and he's also fucking confused. Still, he reaches forward and smoothes his hand down your cheek, hesitating but ultimately smiling as you, consciously or not, lean into the warmth of his hand. 

"Don't ya worry, luv, we'll keep ya away from him and your father. I promise you," he strokes his thumb across your skin in a gentle manner. Tangerine feels like he's been turned inside out. He's never been gentle with anyone—not even with Lemon and he loves Lemon. 

Once you've calmed down and he'd gotten all the information he needed, he shuts the door behind him and walks back into the living room. Lemon looks up at his brother, still looking freaked out by the entire situation. "She's not married," Tangerine huffs and sits next to his brother, rubbing his temples as his eyes shut. "It's fuckin' complicated–"

"So, what are we gonna do now? Ya still wanna keep 'er?"

Tangerine opens his eyes and rolls them as he drums his fingers on his knee for a moment.

"Yeah. I still wanna keep 'er," he looks at Lemon, scoffing at the way he'd said that, and then a dangerous glint in his eye appears, one that Lemon knows all too well, "and the plan is simple, Lem. We're gonna kill those bellends."

* * *

Tangerine's plan is anything but simple, especially because it involves you. Lemon told him this was fucked up and a mistake but he didn't care. His plan was the only way to kill that bastard. 

You were dressed in your clothes from that night with only Tangerine's suit jacket draped over your shoulders as you shiver. The air is still damp and cool from the morning fog.

Tangerine was on edge as he nervously tapped his shoe against the graveled ground, checking his phone occasionally. Kieran Moore had been thirty minutes late to his rendez-vous andTangerine had only hoped he wasn't smart enough to only send him men—because otherwise, his plan is really truly fucked—

"This is so fucked!" Lemon suddenly shouts, blood splatter covering his face as he shoots at the group of men that had finally arrived, sweat trailing down from his hairline. "You fuckin' owe me, you wanker!" he screams at his brother, annoyed by the situation as he turns his head to see Tangerine take on three of Moore's men. It isn't exactly easy, but he's taken on worse than them. 

"Shit! Lem! Where's the bastard?!" Tangerine counters angrily, slamming the bud of his gun into a man's throat. He spins around, seeing bodies and smelling smoke but Kieran is nowhere to be seen anymore. Tangerine's blood runs cold when he sees that you're also missing from behind his car.

Where he'd made you promise you would hide when shit went down!

How could he have lost you?!

Lemon senses his brother's distress and grunts, looking towards the beaten-down and abandoned apartment complex. "He must have taken 'er in there since we blew up his cars. Couldn't have gone far on foot with a screaming bird in his arms— oh you motherfuckers, did he fuckin' send a cavalry?!" Lemon shoots another one of Moore's men. 

Screaming? Had you screamed and he didn't hear you?

Tangerine manages to break into a run, his eyes round and wild as he steadies his breathing so he can focus on finding you. When he enters the apartment building, he rounds the stairs and leaps up them. From a distance and because of an echo, he hears a shrill scream and he picks up his pace, spitting out blood from his mouth from a few hits he'd taken. 

"Shut up, ya stupid bitch!" Keiran's voice booms as he all but drags you up the stairs. The older man has a cigarette hung between his lips, cockily smirking as his hands gripping your arm as you kick and scream.

"Your fuckin' new boyfriends didn't think this through huh? Too busy with my men to realize I gotcha now?! You cheating whore— I'll have to beat some manners into ya again, huh? Huh?!" he snarls and smacks you across the cheek, causing another cry to tear from your throat.

Tangerine can see that your lip is bleeding. You look hurt and betrayed. He feels sick. Without thinking, he raises his gun and with a shaky exhale but a steady hand he pulls the trigger, hitting Kieran Moore through the head and killing him instantly. The man falls down the stairs, causing you to gasp. Your eyes follow him as he falls to Tangerine's feet at the bottom of the stairs. 

Tangerine wastes no time scrambling to where you are, guilt eating at him as he drops to his knees and without thinking, pulls you into his arms. His hold on you is hard and he's afraid he'll crush you so he loosens his hold.

However, you lean up, resting on your knees, as you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him closer. You're shaking in his arms and his heart breaks when he hears you sniffle into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, stroking a hand in your hair. "I shouldn't 'ave brought you here. I shouldn't 'ave taken my eyes off him or ya for even a moment! I should'ave known this was too dangerous for ya. I'm so sorry. I'm such an idiot."

You hold him tighter, your mind racing and his words reach your ears but you don't comprehend them. "Is he dead? Tell me he's dead, Tangerine. Promise me he's gone," you say, pulling him close as if you want to mold your body against his.

"He's dead. He can't hurt ya anymore," he whispers, kissing your forehead as he holds you. He presses another quick kiss to your hairline and then stands, pulling you up with him. "Now, I want ya to stay right here. I need to help Lem finish off those fuckers and then I'll come for ya. Promise. Stay here and be quiet. This shouldn't take long."

And he's right, it didn't take long because soon you're back at their car, sitting on the hood as Tangerine looks at the handprint on your cheek.

Lemon is hunched over against the car, muttering curses as he bandages his hand. You clench your hand between your knees nervously, your eyes focusing on Tangerine's eyes as his thumb brushes away some of your hair and not the countless dead bodies all around the outside of the apartment complex. 

Lemon grunts, standing up straighter. His gaze suddenly lands on you and when it does, his eyes soften. As pissed as he was with the entire situation, he is happy you're safe. He sends you a weak smile. He walks over and pats your knee reassuringly. "'M glad you're okay, Percy," he teases, the nickname making you smile.

"We should go," Lemon tells his brother, rolling up his sleeves as he looks around. "Don't want some good for nothin' pricks callin' the coppers on us." Tangerine nods and helps you down the hood, still holding a hand on your waist. The hand on your waist tightens when three cars suddenly pull up next to theirs, the tires screeching on the pavement. 

Without hesitation, Tangerine pushes you behind him and keeps an arm around you. "It's okay," he whispers gruffly, "I won't let them hurt you."

You frown, pushing on his arm and you take a step forward as men exit the cars, including one you know very well andyour heart sinks. "Daddy?" you whisper, your eyes widened and you pause, shrinking back behind Tangerine when you remember how much pain your father was responsible for.

Your dad walks out, raising his arms in surrender to show Tangerine and Lemon that he's not a threat to them. A bunch of his men, men you know, start to clean up the bloody mess. Lemon and Tangerine look confused and on guard when another man comes out with a silver case. 

"Steady, gentlemen," your dad says calmly as he looks you over and then tilts his head as an indicator for the man with the case to come forward and open it, revealing a bunch of money. "Your reward, hm? I promised you some money, didn't I?"

Lemon's mouth hangs open and Tangerine stares at the case, his arm still around you as he keeps you shielded behind him. "Pardon me?!" he spits and looks at the money, "what's that for?"

You stare at your father, catching on quicker to his games than the Twins. "You paid them to rescue me," you say, raising your arm and clutching Tangerine's sleeve. It doesn't make sense to you. Your father was the one who'd given you up to Kieran Moore so he could save his business. Why did he hire Lemon and Tangerine to save you then?

"I did," your dad says and he sighs, explaining himself. "You think I wanted you in the hands of that bastard? Kieran Moore has been a thorn in my side for decades. I didn't have a choice in the matter, he was blackmailing me and the entire organization. Our organization. The family organization! So, I did let him take you for a while and I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. But, Y/n/n, I couldn't let him keep you and I knew if anyone could keep you safe without raising suspicions, it was them." He gestures to Tangerine and Lemon. "And they did. Now, they have their money and you can come home now, pumpkin."  

You stare at your father's extended arms and your hand tightens around Tangerine's sleeve. You shake your head, eyes narrowed. "No. I want to stay with them," you say. After all, you're an adult who can make her own decisions. 

Tangerine's heart leaps when he hears you say that and he has to force down a smug smile. You want to stay with him and Lemon. Lemon looks less smug as he crosses his arms and looks around at your father's men cleaning up the mess they'd made of Kieran Moore's men. 

"Sweetness, these gentlemen want their money and if you don't come home with me, I can't pay them. Wouldn't be fair now would it?" Your father sounds stern and also confused by the turn of events. 

"We don' need your money," Tangerine admits quickly, keeping you close to him. "You didn't even show up to claim 'er!"

Your father pinches his nose and squeezes his eyes shut. "It was complicated. I couldn't pick her up then but I wasn't worried. I knew you wouldn't harm her. Listen, I can't just allow you to take my daughter—" 

Lemon interrupts him, "We just dealt with your lil' rivalry problem, huh, mate. Call it even?" he turns to look at you and how hard you're gripping Tangerine's sleeve. Lemon wasn't initially on board with this whole keeping-you-with-them-plan but when his gaze travels to his brother's expression, he chuckles and turns back to your father.

"Ya really think he'd hurt your daughter? Ya had no problem with someone who ya knew was gonna harm her taking 'er but this is too much?" 

"I want to stay," you repeat, your tone much firmer this time. "I'm not leaving with you."

Your father seems stumped for a moment but his shoulder sags and he glances around at his men. Lemon has a point, his problem has been mostly solved now or at least solved enough that he can easily take over from here.

He looks at you and inevitably the way you're still clinging to Tangerine and how he's standing next to you, his stance protective. Your father sighs. It wouldn't do anyone any good if he tried to force you to come home with him now.

So he doesn't and you find yourself back at the Twin's house, sitting on the sink in their bathroom, letting Tangerine press a cotton ball full of some homemade disinfectant to your split lip.

You look up at him. It feels wrong being the one he's caring for when he's very clearly more injured than you are.

"You should take a shower, darlin'," he whispers, bending down and throwing away the blood-stained cotton ball into the trash. He straightens up and rests his hand against your cheek as he runs his thumb around the bruise on your cheek, his thumb barely applying any pressure.

"Can I help clean you up?" you ask. You're starting to become more comfortable around him and it makes his heart flutter.  

Tangerine smiles and chuckles. "Nah. I'm okay. Promise. You should relax in a warm shower. You've been through a lot."

"So have you," you say and press your thumb next to a particularly gruesome-looking wound on his forehead. 

He flinches but gently lowers your wrist and holds your hand in his. "I'm used to this. Ya don't need to worry for me, luv." Tangerine looks at you with such care, that you can't help but mirror his expression. You lean up, bringing your hands up to his cheeks, and without a chance to question your actions, you lightly kiss his lips.

You pull away almost instantly, cringing at the sharp pain in your newly wounded lip from the pressure. Tangerine can taste the saltiness from your lips onto his but that's the least of his worries as his eyes widen and he holds your hips steady on the sink, looking you over as he's speechless from your kiss. "Ow," you mutter and touch your lip, "too soon," you joke with a small smile.

"What was that for?" Tangerine asks breathlessly, his focus still on the fact that you'd kissed him. Actually kissed him. 

You smile. "Just a small thank you. For saving me and for letting me stay with you and your brother—keeping me safe and all." You press your palm on his chest, looking up at him. "There's more where those came from after you let me clean you up," you tease in a tone Tangerine hadn't heard from you previously. You sound lighter, not at all afraid or nervous. He really likes this side of you. his lips curl into a smirk as he reaches over the sink and hands you a fresh cotton ball, his hand curling on top of yours as you clutch it. 

"Careful with me, darlin'," he returns the tease and presses a feather-light kiss to your forehead.

You laugh—that sound he loves so so much and he hopes with everything he has that he can hear that sound until the day he dies. 

He's never ever leaving your side again. 

[something-divine]

TF141– protective or possessive? (afab!)

Price 🚬:

Protective. John doesn’t see you as something he can possess. You’re your own person, you can do as you please, but he’ll always have an eye on you, even when he’s gone on deployment. He’s had numerous sit-down talks with you about what he expects to know, purely for safety reasons. Where you are, who you’re hanging out with, what you plan to do, etc. He’s not a fan of spontaneity, he’d rather know at least a day in advance if you plan on going somewhere without him. He knows the dangers of the world, and although he trusts you to take care of yourself, he can’t trust others. All in all, he cares very very deeply for you and would blame himself if anything remotely bad were to happen to you and he wasn’t there.

“Where are you going?”

“Out with a co-worker, you remember Cami, right?”

“Mhm.”

“She asked me to lunch.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“I know, I’m sorry, it just came up-“

“Your location on?”

“Of course.”

“Have fun then, bug. Text me when you’re done, I’ll come get you.”

“Thanks John.”

“I expect updates.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

Simon 💀:

Possessive. Simon’s not a jealous guy, he knows you’re his and he’s yours and that’s that. But, lord, it gets on his nerves when other guys hit on you like he’s not standing right there. When he’s home, he follows you everywhere, like a lost puppy. Except, he’s more of a hound. Dark, brooding, your personal shadow. He won’t keep you from doing things you like, just expect him to be right there with you. It irks him when he’s on deployment, knowing you are by yourself and he’s not there to protect you. Just like Price, he expects texts of where you are, what you’re doing, and especially when you make it home safe and sound. Even if he can’t immediately answer back, he still wants you to let him know. It eases his mind. He feels awful when he realizes his own paranoia seeps into you sometimes, reassuring you that he’ll always be there, even when he’s off on the other side of the world, if you need him, he’ll find a way home.

“Where ya goin’, dove?”

“Just running out to get, uh, girl stuff—what are you doing?”

“Gettin’ dressed.”

“Why?”

“M’ comin’ with you.”

“Si, you don’t have to-“

“Either I go with you, or I go by myself, your choice.”

“…you know-“

“No.”

“But-“

“No.”

“Simon-“

“Keep it up, sweetheart. M’ not arguing with you on this.”

“….fine.”

“Atta’ girl.”

Johnny 🧼:

Possessive. Like his lieutenant, he’s not jealous, or so he says. The glare that he sends other guys that try to even talk to you is downright nasty. Johnny always has a hand on you when you’re out in public. On your hip, your waist, holding your own hand or even slipping his hand into the back pocket of your jeans (he totally gives your ass a squeeze or two. Can you blame him?). You’ve asked him about it once, calling him out on his obvious possessive behavior. He shrugged and denied anything. “Dunno what yer talkin’ bout, bonnie.” You gave up on trying. He was adamant about keeping tabs on you, maybe a bit excessively. Not just knowing where you are or who you’re with, but who your friends are, your co-workers, even memorizes your orders at restaurants so he can do it for you. Totally has a whole notebook on what your schedule is for work, when you run out of certain things like makeup or skincare, all the way down to your passwords. You’ve got no idea though, you just think he’s being an observant, caring, boyfriend.

“Johnny, did you get me more makeup?”

“Makeup?”

“Yeah..I’ve got more of that Charlotte Tilbury lipstick I thought I was running out of…and another Rare Beauty blush-“

“Oh, yeah, ran out n’ got ya some more.”

“…you did?”

“Mhm-hmm.”

“…how did you know I needed—?”

“I just know ya’ that well, bunny.”

“Johnny-“

“Y’ want some takeout? I’m starvin’. What d’ya think, tha’ lil place down the block?”

Kyle 🧢:

Protective. Kyle is head over heels for you, always keeping an eye on you out of pure concern. God forbid something happened to you and he wasn’t there. He’d never forgive himself. When you’re out without him, he’s texting you constantly. So much so, you’ve had a friend or two comment on how annoying that must be, to which you promptly unfriended them. You thought it was sweet, especially after he took a night you had together to explain why he was such a ‘helicopter boyfriend’. He’s been to war, almost died a handful of times, and he wants nothing but joy for you. Well, you can’t be happy if you’re not safe. He won’t go overboard like Johnny, he’s similar to Price in the sense that he doesn’t think you’re something to possess. Knows that you’re a capable young woman and can take care of yourself. He does go out of his way to teach you some good self defense though. Just in case.

“I’ll be right back, love you!”

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Gotta pick up my niece from school, my sister can’t make it and you know how that piece of shit baby daddy is-“

“Yeah, yeah, we don’t like him, I know angel, but…you’re going alone?”

“Yeah, I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“Mhm…you sure?”

“Yep. Twenty minutes, tops.”

“Alright. Be careful please…and keep your ringer on!”

“I will, love you!”

“Love you too, sweetness.”

A/N: this took me way too long, lol. I think Simon’s is the most accurate because I’m still getting used to writing for the other guys. I’m working on it, I swear!

[just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace]

Jealousy (Sauron x fem!Elf!reader)

-> in which you know Sauron is only getting close to Mirdania as part of your plans, but it still bothers you

Warnings: evil reader who is Sauron’s partner in crime (it’s not exactly healthy but you match each other’s freak)

Note: now part of the evil!reader collection (various scenes with the same reader but not written and posted in chronological order)

If she’s not in love yet, she is awfully close to it. You can see it plainly on Mirdania’s face as Sauron—or, as she knows him, Annatar—cradles her hand in his, convincing her yet again to do his bidding with nothing more than a softly spoken word and a gaze that lingers just a moment too long.

“Can I trust you to make sure the others respect his wishes as well?” you hear him say from where you’re standing, only a few feet away. Mirdania agrees almost immediately, looking as though she might pick up a hammer and crush her own fingers with it as well, if her beloved Lord of Gifts only asked.

You are being dramatic, of course. It’s a good thing, having as many smiths of Eregion be vulnerable to Sauron’s deception as possible, but it’s awfully unfair that someone else should get to feel his touch so freely when you, the one with the most right to it, must restrain yourself until you are alone.

By the time they are finished conversing, you are glaring daggers in their direction. If Mirdania notices, you don’t know and you don’t care. It’s his gaze you meet and hold for a brief moment before you turn yours away and leave the courtyard, knowing he would follow.

He had better.

You’ve reached a corridor you know to be empty most of the time, and are striding down it when a hand wraps around your arm and pulls you to the side. You hold back a smirk as your back meets the wall and you stare up into Sauron’s eyes.

“Jealousy does not suit you,” he remarks sharply.

“Feigned innocence does not suit you,” you retort. “Yet you never fail to make it convincing.”

“Mirdania is hardly difficult to convince. And who can fault her?” he says, smugly. He likes to make your blood boil, and you like to let him. It stokes the passion between you. Usually. Now, however, it only serves to further your indignation.

“Who can fault her, indeed?” you say bitterly. “Perhaps she’s not the one worthy of my ire. It was, after all, the Lady Galadriel to whom you oh-so-poetically compared Mirdania not that long ago. Perhaps your time together in Numenor brought you much closer than you led me to believe.”

Your accusation diminishes his playfulness. He puts a finger under your chin, lifting it slightly to better fix you with a warning gaze.

“I do not care for this attitude of yours,” he says disapprovingly. “You were never quite so... irritable, before.”

“Before?” you hiss, removing his hand from your face and holding his wrist between you in a grip tight enough you hope it hurts. “Before you were taken from me without warning, and I was left alone in the world? Living amongst my kind as though nothing had changed, as though I still belonged with them. Playing the obedient little smith as if I was not meant to be so much more. Forgive me if, after all those interminable years awaiting my husband’s return, I do not care to see his fingers in some other elf’s hair!”

Your last words are practically a growl as you release his hand furiously, slamming it into his own chest. He glances at it, then looks at you, having the decency to seem somewhat contrite for a brief moment.

“Had I known it bothered you so...” The slightest smirk tugs at his mouth. “I’d have at least tried to touch her hair out of your sight.”

You shove at his chest, spitting out an adjective in Black Speech with a most indelicate translation in the common tongue. This time, you don’t want him to follow. It’s your full intention to storm away and treat him with nothing but silence until you’re satisfied you have frustrated him as badly as he did you.

You’ve taken a few steps when he catches you by the waist, pulling you with your back flush against his front in the middle of the corridor. You make a sound of surprise, your hands flying to his, but you don’t try to pry them away from you. His mouth is at your ear, hot and alluring.

“There is a purpose to my every word, gesture and touch,” he says, the low rumble of his voice traveling deliciously down your spine. “A purpose of which you are well aware. Our purpose. Do you truly believe a head of pretty hair would so easily sway me, when I spent centuries dreaming to taste you once more?”

His voice has dropped to a whisper, and his lips lower to your neck, pressing gently against your skin to soften you to him. It feels divine, as always, but pride demands you hold back from melting into his just yet.

“What you spent centuries dreaming of,” you counter flatly, “is ruling the world.” Your voice betrays only the tiniest trace of breathlessness as he gives your skin a light, warning bite.

“The two may coexist, and they do. You know that very well.” He turns you around then, holding your chin between his fingers once more. His thumb brushes your lower lip, eyes boring into yours with no trace of the teasing glint from before. “Cease your foolish doubts. Anger makes you impossibly beautiful, my love, but in this moment I’d prefer it if you were angry alongside me, rather than at me. We must stand united, now more than ever.”

That is... infuriatingly true.

Oh, damn him. With his flattery and his touches and his... rational thinking.

“I just...” You let out a sigh with a hint of a groan, your anger giving way to reveal the source of frustration which had driven you to such impulsive actions in the first place. “I’ve grown so tired of this pretense. This ridiculous charade, as if you were as much a stranger to me as you were to the other smiths before you came. Look at us, sneaking around like some rebellious youths exchanging forbidden kisses. They should know who you are. Who we are.” You cup his cheeks and lean in close, voice drenched in unbridled passion. “Husband and wife. King and Queen.”

“And so they shall,” he vows, pulling you against him in a tight embrace as he leans his forehead against yours, “once the work is complete. I shall put a crown on your head, and we shall stand side by side as the world bows at our feet. Before their Lord of Darkness, and my beautiful, terrible Queen. This, I swear.”

Your heart thunders in your chest at the images invoked by his words. Everything you’ve waited and strived for all this time, finally within your grasp. Being supreme ruler of Elves, Dwarves and Men alike. Knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that you can never be torn from the one you love again.

“The day cannot come soon enough,” you breathe out, the last word barely escaping before your love captures your lips and kisses you with endless greed, perfectly matching yours. There is darkness within you, and it was always meant to become intertwined with his. One or both of you may be killed, as he once was, but no power in existence could ever truly part your souls. It’s a certainty you see reflected in his eyes as he pulls away just slightly, just enough for his gaze to set you even more alight with desire before he devours you with his kiss once more.

“Soon, my love,” he whispers against your lips. “Soon.”

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