#once he finds himself again and loves himself

[navybrat817]

Knock You Down a Peg or Two

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Someone learns the hard way that it's a bad idea to upset Bucky's wife.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Established relationship, violent threats (not against the reader), protective vibes, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I'm in a mood, lovelies. We can consider this in the same universe as Mr. and Mrs. Barnes and Handsome and Beautiful. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was no longer the Winter Soldier. He told himself every day he wasn't a cold killer anymore. He did his best to make amends and worked hard to clear his name. From time to time though, people pushed his buttons and got under his skin. You helped him brush it off. Their opinions didn't matter at the end of the day, only yours.

You mattered to him more than anything else. So, if someone bothers him, yeah, he could let it go. Someone upsetting you? He wouldn't stand for it.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he spotted the little weasel sitting at the table in the break room alone. A few hours ago, you called him to vent about how this guy repeatedly tried to make you look bad in front of your superior during a meeting. It wasn’t the first time either. Your tears of frustration were obvious by your tone on the other end, though you tried to hide them. You worked hard, harder than anyone else he knew, and you took your job seriously.

He saw red when he heard you sniffle and it was the only color he had seen since then.

“Give me his name.”

“Bucky, no,” you had argued. “The guy’s a prick and I just needed to vent, so you don’t-”

“Please, baby,” he whispered, knowing full well you could handle yourself, but you were his wife and someone took joy out of your day. Not just that, they made you cry. He took this personally and he wanted to defend you. “Just give me his name so I can take care of it.”

You softly gave him the name, and he made it a priority to find the asshole. It didn’t take him long. No one even questioned why he was asking. It must’ve been his “murder strut” and glare. You once said it could break even the strongest of people.

He headed toward the empty chair beside the agent, careful not to make a sound. His stealth assisted with that. Once he reached the chair though, he made it a point to scrap the chair across the floor to get the prick's attention. The annoyance in his eyes quickly shifted to fear when he realized who he was looking at.

Good. He hoped he pissed his pants.

He made a show of slipping off his leather jacket before taking a seat, making sure the agent got a good look at his metal arm. He also made a show of getting one of his knives out, one you gifted him. “I think we can skip the introductions since you know who I am and I really don't give a shit who you are,” he began, his voice low as he twirled the knife between his fingers. “But I understand you know my wife and, well, she’s the reason I’m here.”

The guy blinked when Bucky made eye contact, the blade still expertly weaving in his hand. “S-Sure. Everyone knows your wife.”

Bucky smiled softly, taking a second to glance at his wedding band. “I’m usually not one to brag, but I can’t help it when it comes to her. She works hard and deserves all the praise she gets, but she’s still humble. Appreciative. Loyal,” he boasted, still smiling before he glared again. “She’d never throw anyone under the bus, especially in front of a superior.”

The little weasel cleared his throat, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair. He seemed to notice for the first time that they were the only two people there. “Look, I don’t know what your wife said, but-”

Bucky pointed the blade at him. “I would think very carefully about what comes out of your mouth next,” he snarled, his eyes as cold as ice.

There was a beat of silence as the guy squirmed in his seat and averted his gaze. Bucky wished you were there to see it. And Steve and Sam. “I may have run my mouth a bit. I just wanted to knock her down a peg or two, you know? She keeps getting promoted and…” he swallowed when Bucky’s eyes narrowed to slits. If this fucker even thought about implying that you slept your way to get where you were today, he may actually cut his throat. “Please, don't kill me.”

The silence after that statement may have been uncomfortable for some, but Bucky didn’t break a sweat. No, he was just thinking of all the different ways he could put him in the hospital for even thinking he had a right to put you down. Putting the knife away, he slowly got to his feet. “Get up,” he said quietly, flexing his hands in intimidation.

“Fuck.” The man nearly knocked his chair over as he stood. “Listen, I’m sorry,” he blurted out, putting his hands out in front of him. “I’ll apologize to her first thing tomorrow, I swear.”

“You think that makes up for it? And are you sorry for trying to make her look bad or are you sorry that you’re under my radar now?” Bucky’s stare remained steady as he knocked his chair out of the way, the piece of furniture nearly splintering when it hit the wall. “Everyone knows what I'm capable of, but do you know what happens to people who upset. My. Wife?”

Bucky refused to say that you cried. The asshole might take that as a sign of victory and he wouldn’t give him any sort of win. He didn’t deserve it. He didn't deserve to be in the same space as you.

The guy’s mouth parted as he took a few steps back on shaky legs. “I-It won’t happen again! I swear!”

“No, it won't, but how about I cut your tongue out so you can’t run your mouth again? Maybe pull out your teeth, too?” Bucky knocked the table away next as he advanced. “Or how about your eyes so you won’t look at her either. Hell, I’ll settle for taking your arm. We’ll match.”

The man let out what sounded like a whimper, his teeth nearly chattering from his fear. Scaring people had given him nightmares, haunted him, but it fueled his fire when he terrified anyone in your honor. “I won’t bother her ever again! I’ll tell my boss she deserves another promotion! I'll transfer! You have my word! I’m sorry!”

Bucky laughed after a moment, a bitter, chilling sound before he held up a hand. “I’m just fucking with you.”

His eyes were still wide with fear. “W… What?”

“I was just trying to scare you a little. You should see the look on your face,” Bucky chuckled again, lightly smacking the guy’s cheek. “Listen, you don’t have to transfer and I’m not going to torture you. Just apologize to my girl and we’re good, okay?”

“Okay.” He let out a breath and chuckled, too. “You really won’t torture me?”

“No, I won’t,” he grinned, grabbing his shoulders. “But I will knock you down a peg or two.”

The prick didn’t see the headbutt coming, but he felt it before he hit the ground. Bucky knew he’d feel it in the morning, too. He got off lucky.

“You know, after you apologize to my wife, I hope you do stay so you can see her continue to thrive,” Bucky toed the guy’s body with his boot. “And speaking of, I need to go buy her some flowers, chocolate, and wine. She deserves it.”

Grabbing his jacket from the broken chair across the room and brushing it off, he whistled as he left the room. He waited until he was a good distance away to call. You picked up on the second ring.

“Hey.” You sounded much better than you did earlier. “So, what’s the damage?”

“Hey, baby,” he smiled. “I headbutted the prick. And before you ask, my head feels great.”

The former assassin may get suspended for that and damaging the table and chair, but he doubted the asshole would have the balls to speak up about what happened.

“Bucky…” you sighed. You were probably pinching the bridge of your nose. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“You’re gonna let me eat you for dessert when I get home,” he smirked. Not that he needed an excuse to dive between your legs, but he'd take any chance he had. “Figure I'll give you at least two orgasms before dinner.”

“Is that right, Mr. Barnes?”

“That is right, Mrs. Barnes.”

The sound of your giggle spread warmth through his chest. Your happiness was his happiness. “Better not keep me waiting,” you teased, pausing for a beat. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he said. You always stuck up for him without question.

“Love you.”

His heart swelled more. “Love you, too.”

He’d have some more explaining to do once he got home and would probably have to pay for the damage he caused. He was also sure that you were plotting the demise of the man’s career and would tell him that he didn’t need to do anything, but he wanted to. He was no longer the Winter Soldier.

But he was your husband and he’d defend you with his life, no matter what.

Violence isn't the answer, but this is fanfiction and we all deserve a loving Bucky. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[whisperofwonder]

Oh, Baby

Haikyuu men x pregnant!reader

Featuring: Miya Osamu, Kuroo Tetsurou, Kageyama Tobio, Sakusa Kiyoomi (~ 400 - 500 words each)

Most likely to be followed up at some point by scenes after baby is born because I have absolutely no chill

MIYA OSAMU

You pick at your dinner, trying your best to eat enough to satisfy Osamu. It's not that you aren't hungry, really. It's more that what you're hungry for isn't this. Osamu already worked hard to make it, though, so you'll make yourself content.

"What's wrong?" Osamu isn't fooled. He points at your plate with his chopsticks. "Isn't it good? I knew I shouldn't a' switched out the spices."

"No, it's good!" You insist quickly. "Really. I just - you're gonna think it's silly." You warn.

"Try me," He says, sitting back in his chair and watching you expectantly. You have no choice.

"I'm just really craving something in particular. Something different," You try to mask your disdain as you gesture at your plate. "I want onigiri."

"Really?" A smile breaks across his face. "Little guy wants onigiri, huh? Well that's not so bad. I can whip something up-" He's already out of his chair and poised to root in the fridge. "Whaddya want? We got tuna, umeboshi, or maybe..." He pauses to shuffle things around in the fridge in search of more ingredients.

"No," You interrupt before he can get too far, bracing yourself for what the baby is making you say next, "Actually, I was kind of thinking, well, peanut butter?" He goes still, head stuck in the fridge. "And, jelly?" You add more quietly. Slowly, he backs up and pivots, fixing you with a penetrating look.

"Sorry. It was all muffled in there. What sorta filling did ya want?" You repeat yourself, and watch as the smallest part of your husband dies. He blinks once, twice, then nods very slowly. "Okay," He says, quietly, almost as if he's steeling himself. "Okay." He repeats.

Hands resting on your growing middle, you watch as he methodically prepares the onigiri, with the exact fillings you'd requested. He hesitates with his spoon in the peanut butter, but he does what you asked. "Are ya sure this is my child?" He asks despairingly as he presents you with three perfectly formed onigiri.

"Positive," You assure him with a small chuckle. You can't help it - you're itching to dig into these onigiri, so you do. Is it an absurd combination? Yes. But does it satisfy the craving you'd been trying to ignore all day? Absolutely. You can't disguise your delight as you eat, humming happily as you savor the food your husband had so lovingly prepared for you, despite the desecration.

When you look up, you're surprised to find him smiling at you, head propped on his fist as he watches you eat.

"What're you grinning about?" You ask teasingly.

"Can't help it," He grumbles, "I'm just happy you're enjoyin' the food, even if it is an abomination. I love you." He gives your cheek a gentle pinch, then your stomach a loving pat.

"I love you too, Samu. We both do." You pause. "Want a bite?" You ask, holding the last onigiri out to him.

"Absolutely not."

KUROO TETSUROU

You're in bed, and it's barely 8:00. You never expected your normal day-to-day routine to tire you out this much, but then again you've never been 7 months pregnant before, either.

"Aw, come on," Tetsurou is cooing at your stomach, stroking it gently. "Just a little tiny kick? Mama gets to feel you move all the time." He's curled up with his face inches from your stomach, a dopey smile on on his face as he chatters to the baby as has become his nightly routine. You reach down to run a hand through his unruly hair.

"If you want someone to kick you in the bladder, that can probably be arranged," You say drily, snorting out a laugh when he looks up at you with a pout.

"I just want to feel her move," He sighs, "I feel like I always miss it. Everybody acts like it's so special."

"It is," You say softly, resting your hand on top of his. You can't deny that. "It'll happen," you say optimistically. With how bad he wants it, it has to, you silently tell your daughter.

"Yeah," He doesn't sound convinced, rolling to a sitting position. "Guess I'll go brush my teeth," He says, heading for the bathroom. You roll onto your back, reaching for your phone on the bedside table. You've just opened a conversation to respond to a text when you feel it - the faintest movement.

"Tetsu!" You call, "Come here!"

"What?" He's at the doorway in half a second, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and a frown creasing his brow, "Wha's wrong?"

"She's moving," You say, and shift to a sitting position. You hear him spit the toothpaste in the sink, and he's there in a heartbeat, hand on your belly. Right beneath his hand, you feel her kick. You watch as the look of wonder crosses his face.

"Hi, baby girl," He breathes, focusing all of his attention on the movement of your daughter beneath his hand. "I love you so much. I'm so excited to meet you." He turns to look at you then. "Finally," He grins, and you can't help but return it.

"Didn't I tell you?" You say smugly.

"Yeah, yeah." He silences you with a minty kiss.

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

At this point in your pregnancy, there's very little that soothes your aching back. Lying down, standing up, moving around, the pain is always there in the background to some extent. That's why you find yourself in the living room in the middle of the night, propping yourself up between the arm chair and wall in search of a position that will provide some relief.

"Are you alright?" You nearly jump out of your skin at the touch of Tobio's hand on your back. When you left the room, he'd been sleeping like a rock as usual.

"Fine," You assure him, stretching to a slightly more dignified position. "My back's just a little sore."

"Oh," He runs a hand gently up and down the muscles of your back. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Hold this for a second?" You say with a breathy laugh, mostly joking as you press a hand beneath your round stomach.

"I can try," He says seriously, moving behind you. You're about to tell him it was just a joke, but then you feel his chest pressed against your back and his hands gently supporting the underside of your belly. Instead of the protest that had been forming on your lips, you let out a groan of relief.

"Was that good?" He asks uncertainly.

"Very good," You're quick to assure him, letting your eyes close. He only hums in response, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder. You'd forgotten it was possible for your back to feel this normal. It's blissful. You could almost fall asleep right here and now.

"You sure are making trouble for your mama," You hear your husband whisper, drawing you back out of your drowsy state.

"It's okay," You murmur, "It'll all be worth it." He presses another kiss to your shoulder, and you sink back into silence.

"I really think we should get you back to bed," He says finally. Even though it means he'll have to let go, you feel you don't have any choice but to agree. "We can do this again tomorrow," He promises as he takes your hand to make your way back to the bedroom. You give his hand a tug and press a kiss to his lips. You'll hold him to that.

SAKUSA KIYOOMI

"I'm home," You hear Kiyoomi call from the front door. You freeze, but it's too late to hide the evidence. Soon enough, your husband appears in the nursery doorway, and you're caught red-handed.

"I told you I'd build that bookshelf tonight," He says, striding into the room and plucking the loose shelf from your hand. He takes the bag of screws from the other, sets them down, and then draws you away from your project.

"I know, but I just had to do something," You insist. "I already put all the clothes in the dresser, vacuumed, washed the drapes, and the box was just sitting there." His brow creases, and you realize you've said too much.

"You washed the drapes?" He heaves a heavy sigh. "How did you even get them down? And put them back up?"

You smile nervously. "A chair," You try to sound nonchalant. "They really aren't that high."

"My love," He says, taking your hands in his. "Please don't do something like that again. What if you fell?" You lower your head, biting down on your lip. It truly hadn't crossed your mind.

"Sorry," You whisper, "There's just so much to do! We need to be ready. The baby will be here in just a few months. I just want everything to be perfect."

"I know," He says, now rubbing comforting circles into the backs of your hands, "And we'll take care of everything. Together." He draws you into him and tucks your head beneath his chin. "I promise. I just want you to be safe."

His voice is a comforting rumble against your ear, and you nod your head against him. "I know," You agree softly.

"Good," He says, pulling back and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Now, since you've been busy all day, why don't you let me make dinner?" You open your mouth to protest, but with one look at his face, you close it again. "After dinner, you can read me the instructions. I'll build the bookshelf."

You smile at your husband. "Thanks for taking care of us, Kiyoomi," You say, and his expression softens.

"Of course. It's my job."

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 11 (The End)

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Racism against Illyrians/Lesser Faes?

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

I could write more, but quite frankly, I think I would kinda drag it out and the first major arc is tied up with a neat little bow! There are definitely be threads left dangling for me to pick up whenever I want to write more about Sky and Azriel, but I think around 50k is a good place to stop for now ❤️

Even the Spymaster of the Night Court paid taxes.

That was the only reason why Rhysand even found out where exactly Azriel‘s home even was.

Azriel’s home was in the outskirts of Velaris, near the mountains. A little lake cabin. Rhys hadn’t even known that Azriel owned it but apparently he did.

Rhys shouldn’t go there. He knew that.

Rhys should be giving his brother space. That was probably the least he owed him. But he couldn't stop himself. He needed to know Azriel was alright. That he was happy.

Rhys needed to apologise. He needed to make amends…

And Azriel was ignoring him. Mental shields as shored up as they ever had been, shoving back at Rhys at every opportunity…

He had never seen Azriel's mental shields like this before, and it concerned him. He knew Azriel was angry at him, had ever right to be angry,  but Rhys hadn't expected his brother to shut him out so completely.

Reports were still arriving on his desk punctually as always. But Azriel seemed utterly uninterested in actually talking to Rhys. 

It was a small comfort, knowing that Azriel was still working, but Rhysand couldn’t shake off the feeling of guilt that had settled deep in his gut. He knew that he had hurt Azriel deeply, and he couldn’t blame his brother for shutting him out.

Rhys wished he could turn back time and fix things, but he had messed up terribly. He knew he had to give Azriel space, but the silence between them was deafening . It was a constant reminder of just how much damage he had caused.

As the days went on, Rhysand found himself consumed by thoughts of what he could have done…should have done… He tried reaching out to Azriel mentally, only to be rebuffed each time. 

Cassian showed up alone for debriefings and if Rhys showed up at the House of Wind for Valkyrie Training, Azriel was nowhere to be seen. 

So finally…Rhys had enough. So he showed up at that house. 

It was a nice house too, a secluded cabin at a mountain lake. Rhys knew that he wasn’t welcome, not after everything that had passed between them, but he had to see Azriel. 

Rhys raised a hand, knocking gently on the door. He could hear the faint sound of movement inside. Rhysand sighed. He should leave. He knew he should leave. But he couldn't bring himself to do it.

And then suddenly, to his surprise…the door opened. 

“…C…Can I….can I h…help you?“

She was brown haired and short… with deep blue eyes and freckles smattering over her nose.

Rhysand looked at the woman in front of him, taken aback by her appearance. He didn't know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't a small, curvy, freckled brunette.

"I, uh..." Rhysand stammered, his mind blanking. "I was looking for Azriel." he finally brought out. 

The small female studied him carefully, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Az…Azriel's n…not h…here," she stuttered.

Rhysand's heart sank, but he tried not to let it show. "Do you know where he is?" he asked, desperate for any information.

The female hesitated, biting her lip slightly. She seemed to be contemplating her answer, her brow furrowing in thought. After a moment, she finally looked back up at him, her expression unreadable. "He…He's...o…out f…for t…the d…day," she said finally, not giving him anymore than that.

Rhysand tried to keep the frustration out of his voice, but it was difficult. He was so close to his brother, and yet so far away. "Do you know when he'll be back?" he asked sharply.

She nearly flinched away from him at that tone of voice.

He opened his mouth to apologise, but he didn't even get to that. Because some thing with wickedly sharp claws, launched itself at his head with a hissing sound.

Rhysand yelped as the mysterious creature swiped at his face, growling all the while.

"HECTOR NO!" The female shrieked.

Rhysand stumbled backwards, trying to dodge the sharp claws.

Just at that moment, he felt more than he heard his brother's arrival.

Azriel materialized between them with a loud flapping of wings, his siphons blazing. He stood protectively in front of the small female, his expression murderous.

"Hector to me," he snapped. The thing, a cat ...an incredible ugly , murderous looking cat let off Rhys with another growl and slunk back to Azriel's side, heeling like a dog. The woman quickly scooped him up in her arms.

Cassian's laughter washed over him, at that moment, as Rhys was still laying on the ground, bested by a cat .

"Taking down by a cat now, Rhysie?" Cassian asked him with a snort, offering him his hand to gain his feet.

Rhys already knew that he was never going to live this down.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Azriel hissed, his voice filled with anger. His wings were spread wide, and Rhysand could see the barely contained ferocity beneath his brother's cold facade.

Rhysand winced at Azriel's harsh tone. He knew he had messed up, and he didn't blame his brother for being angry with him. "I just wanted to see you," he said, feeling small under Azriel's penetrating glare.

Azriel's expression didn't soften at his words. "You had no right," he said sharply. "You can't just show up here unannounced, Rhysand. This is my home, and you're not welcome here. You terrified Sky!"

Sky. Sky. That was the name of his brother's mate...of the pretty brunette that was standing behind him, fussing over her murderous cat.

Rhysand glanced over at Sky guiltily. "I...I'm sorry," he said to her. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Sky hesitated, before nodding stiffly. Her face remained guarded, her arms still wrapped protectively around the mangy cat. Rhysand couldn't help but notice how small she looked compared to Azriel's imposing form…and the absolute massive cat. 

"I am sorry," he turned to his brother, swallowing. The apology wasn't enough. he knew that. And it wasn't going to fix the fact that Azriel didn't trust him anymore or... *Az. Please.*

"How did you find this house?" Azriel demanded.

"I checked the tax reports," Rhys admitted with a grimace.

Azriel's expression darkened even further, and Rhys braced himself for a reprimand. Instead, his brother let out a harsh, bitter chuckle. "Of course you did," he said flatly. "Just can't stay out of my business, can you?"

Rhysand felt a pang in his chest at the hostility in Azriel's voice. He knew he deserved every ounce of resentment his brother felt, but it still hurt deep to hear it out loud. "I...I was worried about you," he said lamely.”I just needed to see you." he added. "To apologise."

"You don't even realise the lines you keep crossing, do you?" Cassian asked him flatly. "Ever thought about the fact that maybe you should have waited until Azriel was ready to hear you out?

Rhysand winced. Cassian's words struck a nerve, and he knew his friend was right. He had been rash and insensitive in coming here unannounced. "I...I wasn't thinking," he admitted softly.

Cassian shook his head, his expression still stern. "That's the problem, Rhys," he said bluntly. "You never seem to think these days. It's like you're so caught up in your own head that you don't consider how your actions affect those around you."

Rhysand's gaze dropped, shame washing over him. Cassian's words pierced straight through him, and he struggled to find a response. He knew he had been making mistakes, but hearing them laid out so bluntly still stung.

"What do you want?" Azriel asked him flatly. "Why did you come here?"

"I wanted to apologise," Rhys said weakly. "I...fucked up. I know that. I want to...fix things."

Azriel's face remained impassive, his eyes hard. "You can't just fix things with an apology, Rhys," He said curtly. "You crossed more than one line, and you shattered my trust. Do you really think saying sorry is enough?"

"Az," his mate said softly, her voice quiet. "H..He's blee..bleeding all over our front lawn after my cat at..attacked him. At least let him sit down and give him a healing salve…"

Azriel turned to look at his mate, his anger softening ever so slightly at the concern in her voice. He let out a heavy sigh, before nodding stiffly. "Fine," he said gruffly. "But no more than that."

Rhysand nodded gratefully, relieved that Azriel was willing to let him in, even if only slightly. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I...I really am sorry."

Azriel didn't respond, turning away from him and herded Sky and the murder cat into the house. Rhysand watched him go, feeling a pang of sadness. It was clear that his brother's anger was far from abated, and he knew it would take a lot more than just an apology to mend their fractured relationship.

"Come on," Cassian prodded him up.

The first thing that Rhys realised about the house Azriel shared with his mate was that it was absolutely stuffed full with books. The second was, that Azriel clearly doted on the Murder Cat that got a crystal dish with tuna on it put on the floor before Azriel even went in the direction of the healing salve, which he slapped down on the table in front of Rhysand. .

"I…I am so…sorry," Sky apologised to Rhys, bright blue eyes apologetic. "H…Hector has nev…never done anything like that before, I swear."

Yeah, somehow he doubted that. But he also doubted that it was going to help his relationship with Azriel if he was going to annoy his mate about her beastly cat. The thing had a worse personality than Amren . 

"Don't worry about it," he said, with what he hoped he was a gracious smile. "I think your cat and I just got off on the wrong foot." He looked over at the cat, who was now happily devouring the tuna as if it hadn't just tried to claw his face off.

"Good Boy, Hector," Azriel said warmly.

Rhysand could just stare.

Azriel, the feared Spymaster of the Night Court, was cooing at a mangy cat like a proud parent. He never would have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes.

"Who knew the Spymaster had a soft spot for cats," Rhysand remarked with a faint smile. Azriel shot him a warning glare, but the sternness was lost at the tender way he was petting the cat. "I am really sorry," Rhys apologised again.

"You said so. Numerous times," Azriel shot back.

Rhysand sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He knew Azriel was still angry with him, but it was hard not to feel the guilt weighing down on him. "I know," he said softly. "But I want you to know that I mean it. I am sorry, Azriel. For everything."

Azriel's expression remained impassive, but Rhysand could see the flicker of sadness in his eyes. He knew his brother was struggling to forgive him, but he hoped that with time, Azriel would be able to find it in his heart to do so.

"I just want to make things right," Rhysand said earnestly. "I miss you, Az. I miss my brother."

"You'll need to decide one of those days," Azriel said sharply. "Am I your soldier or am I your brother?"

Rhysand flinched at the words, feeling the weight of the accusation hit him hard. 

He had always tried to balance his role as High Lord with his relationship with his brothers, but he knew that…that he hadn’t been fair to Azriel for a long time. "You're right," he conceded quietly. "I have been treating you like my soldier instead of my brother, and that's not fair to you."

"You have been treating him absolutely deplorably," Cassian cut him off.

Rhysand hung his head, feeling the weight of his mistakes settling heavy on his shoulders. "I know," he said quietly. "I've been so caught up in my own problems and responsibilities as High Lord that I lost sight of what really matters. And I've hurt Azriel because of it."

"And you stuck your nose in things that are none of your business," Cassian continued. "I get it that you are tired of fighting, Rhys, we all are, but you can't keep conflict out of our family by ordering Azriel to behave in the way you would like him to."

Rhysand winced, knowing Cassian was right. He had been trying to control things, to make sure everyone was safe and happy, but in the process, he had driven a wedge between himself and his brothers. "I...I know," he admitted reluctantly. "I was…I was stupid. I am tired of war. Of fighting. And I was just trying to protect him, but I went about it all wrong."

" Protect me?" Azriel asked him, his voice dripping with disdain. " Protect me from what ?"

Rhysand looked away, feeling the shame rise within him. He knew he had overstepped, and he knew that Azriel was angry with him. "The consequences that would have arisen," he said delicately. He didn't know what Azriel had told his mate...didn't know how much she knew, but she was watching him with an expression on his face, he couldn't quite place.

"Well, I am an adult, Rhysand," Azriel snapped. "I am perfectly capable of protecting myself."

Rhys knew that. He knew Azriel was more than capable of taking care of himself. But he still felt the need to protect him, to shield him from harm.

"I...I know that," Rhysand said quietly. "I just didn't want to see you get hurt." He glanced over at Azriel's mate, who was still watching him warily. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being evaluated, judged for his mistakes.

Azriel let out a dry chuckle. "Well, it's a little late for that, don't you think?" he said bitterly. "You've seen to that already." Rhysand winced at the accusation, knowing that he deserved every ounce of Azriel's anger.

"I know," he said again, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I am sorry for that. I see now that it was the wrong way to go about it." He looked into his brother's dark eyes, pleading for understanding.

Azriel met his gaze, his expression softening ever so slightly. "Protecting me by making decisions for me is not protecting me, Rhysand," he said quietly. "It's...it's suffocating. It's demeaning."

Rhysand nodded, knowing that Azriel was right. He had been trying to control everything, trying to make sure that nothing went wrong, and he had lost sight of what was truly important. "I understand," he said quietly. "And I am sorry for making you feel that way. It was wrong of me."

Azriel studied him for a moment, before finally sighing. "Just...stop it," he said simply. "No more interfering in my personal life, no more giving me orders like I am one of your soldiers."

Rhysand let out a shaky breath, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "I promise," he said earnestly. "I won't do it again, Az. I...I'll respect your boundaries, and I'll never overstep again."

Azriel snorted. “I’ll believe that when I see it,” he said gruffly. "And if you do...if you try to control me like that again, I swear Rhysand...it won't end well."

"You'll ha…have He…Hecctor to contend with," Sky said, her voice even.

Rhysand looked over at Hector, who had finished his tuna and was now licking his chops.  Rhys swallowed. "He does seem to be a force to be reckoned with," he said carefully.

Sky gave him a small, tight-lipped smile. "You could say t…that," she said, her tone neutral. Azriel snorted a laugh, shaking his head as he watched his mate. It was the first genuinely carefree sound Rhysand had heard from his brother…in a long time.

Despite the earlier tension, Rhysand found himself smiling too. There was something about the way Azriel looked at his mate, the way he looked...happy, that made Rhysand feel like maybe everything would be alright.

Hector chose that moment to let out a loud meow, his voice sounding like a rusty hinge in the otherwise quiet room. Azriel looked down at the cat, rolling his eyes. "Alright, alright, I'll get you your second helping, spoiled brat," he said, a hint of fondness in his voice.

Rhysand chuckled, feeling the tension that had been weighing him down lift just a little. Things between him and Azriel weren't repaired yet, they had a long way to go, but for the first time in a long while, he felt hopeful.

“They do say the pen is mi…mightier than a sword,” Sky said suddenly. “You treat Azriel like that again and you’ll see just how mighty my pen is.”

Rhysand's eyebrows shot up in surprise at Sky's unexpected threat. It was clear that she wasn't messing around, and Rhys couldn't help but admire her boldness. He glanced over at Azriel, who was trying to suppress a smile.

"I'll keep that in mind," Rhysand said, trying to hide his amusement. "Though I have to say, I can’t imagine a pen being as terrifying as Hector."

Cassian snorted. “Oh you have no idea,” he muttered

Rhysand's eyes widened in curiosity at Cassian's comment. What on earth did that mean? But before he could inquire further, Azriel's voice broke through.

"Don't worry about it," he said, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Let's just say that you don't want to get on Sky's bad side, especially when she has her writing instruments within reach."

"Duly noted," Rhysand said, nodding seriously. He had a feeling that Azriel's mate was not someone to be trifled with, regardless of how harmless she looked, and he had no intention of finding out first-hand just how mighty her pen truly was.

Hector, having finished his second helping of tuna, let out a satisfied meow before padding over to Sky and rubbing against her leg. She reached down and scratched him behind the ears, smiling as he purred contentedly.

Rhysand watched the scene. He had never seen Azriel so relaxed, so happy, and it made him realize just how badly he had missed his brother. It was a reminder that family was more important than anything, and that he needed to cherish the people he cared about.

“Seems like you aren’t Sky’s favourite,” Cassian drawled.

Azriel snorted. “Nah, I come a distant third behind Hector and the shadows.”

Rhys watched with a swallow as these shadows that he had seen torturing people came over to Sky and twined around her hands. Azriel's words were said in jest, but Rhysand could hear the fondness in his voice. It was clear that Azriel adored his mate, and that the shadows had taken a liking to her as well. Rhysand tried not to let the slight sting of jealousy show on his face.

As he watched, the shadows danced around Sky's fingers, like they were alive and had a mind of their own. Rhys had seen the shadows in action, had seen how Azriel used them to fight and spy, but he had never seen them act this way before. There was a tenderness in the way they twined around Sky that was almost...beautiful.

Rhys turned to Azriel, who was watching his mate with a soft expression on his face. "They seem to like her," he commented, keeping his voice neutral.

"That's an understatement," Azriel said drily. "They're obsessed with her. They won't leave her alone."

Rhysand could see that clearly, but what surprised him more was how comfortable Sky seemed with them. She wasn't scared or even bothered by their presence...

It did make sense he supposed. The shadows were Azriel's weapon, his most trusted companions...that they would like his mate.

Rhysand watched as Sky looked up from where the shadows were wrapping around her fingers, a faint smile on her face. She seemed completely at ease with the strange entities, as if they were just another part of Azriel that she had accepted and embraced.

And it was also a sharp reminder of how much trust Rhys had destroyed through his actions. It was very clear who Azriel preferred, who he trusted more. Who he gravitated towards. Who even his shadows doted on, these strange, creatures that Rhys was quite sure would stop at nothing to keep their master safe.

The realization stung, but Rhys knew he had no one to blame but himself. He had caused this rift between them, he had pushed Azriel away, and now he was paying the price for it. But he was determined to make it right, no matter how long it took.

As he watched Azriel gently brush away a stray strand of hair from Sky's face, Rhys made a silent vow. He would do whatever it took to repair their broken bond, to regain Azriel's trust and respect. No matter how hard it was, no matter how long it took, he would make things right.

***

"You want to talk about it?" Sky asked him quietly, after Cassian ad Rhys had gone. 

She was fine now. Content. No more pulling at the mating bond so harshly and pushing all her fear at him. It had shaved at least a century of his life, to feel that from her when Casisan and him had been sparring and he knew that she was supposed to be safe at home.

He had expected near everything…but he hadn’t expected to arrive to the view of Hector scratching Rhys’s face with all his might. 

Azriel took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day's events bearing down on him. He wasn't sure if he was ready to put his tangled emotions into words yet, but he also knew that he couldn't keep it all bottled up inside.

"Rhys gave me some orders that I didn't agree with," he said drily. "Stuck his nose in things that he had no business to interfere with. He treated me...treated me like my feelings didn't matter. That I didn't matter....It took a really bad fight on Solstice for this apology to occur," he said with a grimace.

"You don't think he means it?" Sky asked him curiously, turning to look at him.

"No, he does mean it," Azriel said with a sigh. He did believe that. “He wants to fix things. to rebuild trust...And I do want that too. Regardless of how much of an asshole he can be on occasion he is still my brother ."

Sky was quiet for a long moment, watching him intently. Azriel felt the weight of her gaze, knowing that she was analyzing the situation, trying to understand what he was feeling. Finally, she spoke.

"You're worried that he'll disappoint you again," she said softly. "That he'll make promises that he can't keep. That he'll go back on his word and hurt you worse than before."

Azriel's throat felt tight. The words hit him hard, because Sky had put a voice to his deepest fears. "Yes," he admitted. "That'sexactly what I'm afraid of. I want to believe him, I do."

But it was hard to trust Rhys right ow. Especially with Sky. Trusting Rhys with the most important, the most precious part of his life...

"I can loan you Hector whenever he pisses you off again," Sky offered him seriously, and Azriel couldn't help but laugh.

"Thanks," he said with a small smile. "I might just take you up on that." He pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair. The scent of caramel and hazelnuts enveloped him, calming his racing thoughts and easing the tension in his shoulders.

"I love you, he whispered into her skin and she hummed. "Regardless of what happens, you  have me," Sky promised him. "I'll be behind you, every step of the way. regardless of whatever you decide."

Those words were like a balm to Azriel's soul. The fear and doubt that had been plaguing him since Rhysand's unexpected visit receded, replaced by a sense of safety and certainty. He held onto Sky tightly.

"I love you too," she murmured, the words barely audible even in the still apartment.

They stayed like that for a long moment, simply holding onto each other.

*I don't think I ever thanked you.* he told the shadows softly as he held his mate in his arms.

The shadows fluttered around him, wrapping around his arms and shoulders like a comforting embrace. They didn't say anything, but Azriel could feel their response. They had been with him through thick and thin, protecting him, guiding him, and never once asking for a word of thanks. And yet, he knew that they understood his gratitude, that they could feel it…

*Thank you for finding her.*

[syngirl]

I think it says way too much about me that this is what got me to write in French again. Read the images clockwise from the left

He had worn many an awkward costume for a mission. Yet it wasn't the South American cabin boy, the Japanese general or even the medieval armor that bothered him the most. It was simply himself, but dressed in a skirt, blouse and cardigan, that stirred his mind. Tintin was normally a fairly analytical person, his inner voice tirelessly typing whenever he wasn’t, but now, when he needed it more than ever, it was silent. In this logical void that crossdressing had created, his thoughts, fond of connections, only managed to make one: the times he had already had the same feeling. With equal parts horror, fascination and catharsis, he thought about that dense and heavy warmth that lined his mind. How many times it had appeared without ever being recognized. His love of marbles when he was a kid, motivated not by the simulacrum of gambling that so captivated his classmates, but by a fascination with his mother’s jewelry that he could only respond to through this pastime suitable for a boy. His intense desire to write a report on feminist groups in Brussels, a desire which was blocked by an unusual social malaise. His meeting with his physician, who had diagnosed him with a testosterone deficiency as indicated by his lack of body hair and velvety skin. 

“There are treatments for your condition you know, your appearance must be horribly embarrassing for a man your age.” the doctor reassured him.

Yet he never felt any need to “cure” his condition. He admires himself in the mirror, and has to admit that this appearance is at the very least pragmatic, just the clothes are enough to pass for the new secretary of the Syldavian embassy. He pets Snowy to calm down, he too seems captivated by his master's appearance. Tintin always had a suspicion that his dog knew more than him, too bad he couldn't express it. 

The Captain waits for him at the entrance to the locker room, and cannot suppress a sailor's whistle at his appearance. Tintin blushes, obviously, but he takes the time to contemplate his friend. He knows that their relationship drew its strength from their differences, but this was the first time he considered the physical dimension. This strong, bearded and rough old sailor is a model of male morphology, unlike him. There is little time for anatomical analysis though, the political issue is the immediate priority. However, when boarding the streetcar, a striking observation forms in the reporter's mind: he prefers his immediate feminine appearance to a masculine ideal.

Blistering Barnacles! This illiterate postman has once again delivered the Cutts’s rubbish to us!

It is rather the Captain who is illiterate, for he did not notice that the few women's magazines he had in his hands were addressed not to Miss Margaret Cutts, but indeed Tintin. The Syldavian diplomatic crisis resolved, he returned with Snowy to his library in Moulinsart to bury himself in the pile of books, dissertations and articles that he accumulated on his desk, a necessary relaxation at the end of any adventure. Tintin is hardly picky with his reading choices, and so in the middle of the mountain of political, historical, geographical and linguistic literature essential to his journalism, there were Miss Cutts’s girls’ magazines which were found in the Moulinsart mailbox. The first evening of his reading period was dedicated to finally reading these rags so innocuous but so threatening. The very next day he subscribed to all the publishers he could find before making a trip to town to obtain more serious literature. The following week, he put on his best feminine voice to order clothes over the phone. 

He does not yet have a real mental conception of this desire within him, he simply responds to a joy that is just as, if not more fundamental than a successful report or a resolved adventure. Fortunately for him, there is no question of taming capricious sources or risking an international incident. All he has to do is put on red striped sports shorts and a matching tank top, then admire himself in the mirror he had installed in his room. His fingers run through his flowing hair, which now reaches his shoulders. For as much as his quiff was a recognized aspect of his public image, the searing synthesis of resentments for his appearance that he had carried out had come to the same conclusion as his marbles. He didn't like the quiff on its own as much as it was a substitute for the hairstyle he never had. The symptom of a series of trying events that he had never treated out of contempt for the barber. Slightly trendy hair like he has now may be less memorable, but it's who he really is. He takes Snowy and holds him at eye level. He licks his cheeks happily, prompting an even wider smile from his owner. 

The first time he left his room wearing his new wardrobe, he had done everything not to attract the attention of his friends. Now he exits through the main entrance, his posture tall, his expression confident. Haddock looks up from his newspaper in emphatic astonishment

What goes on Tintin? You only needed to disguise yourself as a lady once, but this is the third time you've gone out like this!

Tintin, hand on hip, only responds with a flirtatious smile. He walks into the hall, but the cavernous acoustics of the mansion allow him to hear the Captain speaking to Nestor.

I swear, since she, sorry, he put on that skirt, something has come over this kid. I adore him Nestor, he is my anchor and so much more,, but I no longer know how to approach him. I worry about him and his loneliness, but at the same time I have the impression of witnessing the birth of something big in him.

Change is the only constant, sir.

Tintin listens closer

I think he who spent his whole life sailing on a lake just discovered the ocean Nestor. 

A new whirlwind of emotion seizes Tintin. Not just the Captain's unusually touching words, but his mistake. A truth found in Whiskey no doubt. She. Steps becoming lighter and more assertive, he or she heads towards Professor Calculus’s garden, their favorite place to meditate, contemplate and sunbathe. He is there, still pruning his roses when he notices the visitor

Good day madam! He exclaims.

They lie down on the grass, her well-groomed skin exposed to the sensations of spring. She. Madam. It was obvious, a truth that she had continued to deny. Not anymore. Under the shade of the rose bushes, she had found the solution to this riddle. 

It was always helpful to have a renowned scientist in your social circle. It took him a few weeks to come to terms with his friend's real identity, not out of social rejection, simply because he sincerely believed that the real change was abandoning a career in journalism to go play tennis. Once he understood, the Professor called a Danish medical institute that he had learned of during a conference, and they accepted the new patient. Her papers, but above all, her loved ones call her Justine. The psychological reality clarified, her condition was no longer a defect, but an asset. She would be a perfect candidate, with minimal treatment required. A few prescriptions and a year later, she really needed to wear a bra, among many other changes..

 It wasn’t just her physical appearance that was important, of course. She spent long hours in the living room chatting with Haddock, Snowy asleep on her lap. They discussed all the things they had never known how to tell each other, from Haddock's difficult childhood, to Justine's regret for her colonialist journalism, the Captain's worst years at sea, then the trauma she experienced from her consecutive adventures. Haddock admitted that he was homosexual, and that his affection for Justine extended to that dimension. He knew it wasn't appropriate, but was also too upset to admit it. Justine has no romantic interest, but thanked the Captain for always loving her for who she is.

 Haddock wasn't the only one opened up by Justine's transformation. It was with great nervousness that she had sent a letter to Tchang going in depth about her thoughts and feelings. They managed to connect an international line, and the phone bill the following month nearly gave the Captain a heart attack. Despite their distance, Tchang had always been her greatest confidant, and the insights he provided for her were immense. He once spent an entire evening reading lines of Tao poetry and discussing them with her, finding solace in their reflections on inner peace beyond gender and the material world. There was also plenty of giggling and enjoying each others’ company. He hinted he might move to Europe for further education, and she could not be happier about it.

 Most surprising of renewed relationships turned out to be the Castafiore. She proved to be much more comfortable with other women, and thus was incredibly generous and wise towards the unknowns of her new protégé. It took a few rough months, but thanks to the hairdressers, tailors, etiquette teachers and even just the social environments recommended by the singer, Justine had made up for the years she hadn't lived as herself.

She’s a little anxious, but she knows she’s ready. Trendy red skirt, flattering sweater, flirty necklace and armband, she is exactly who she wants to be, and the confidence she feels is palpable. She tightens her ponytail, it's now 11 o'clock sharp. She enters the office of Gérard Pelletier, her first lead in a story of questionable aerial activity in the Canadian Arctic. The stocky man looks at her. An amiable smile appears.

“Miss Justine, a pleasure to meet you!”

The anticipation of Justine's first adventure is mind-boggling.

“Smile for the camera!”

Justine, in a vain mood, wonders which is more dazzling, the flash, or her? She is right to think so. The bouffant golden hair, the sparkling eyes, the magnetic smile, her picturesque silhouette, all dressed in a low-cut mini dress and matching high heels in “blizzard” white, a journalist's portrait has rarely been so stylish. Haddock made fun of her friend a little, asking her if it was a photo session for an international scandal or a gossip column in Paris-Match. Justine is not naive, she knows just as well that such a getup is inappropriate for the arrest of a group of airborne polar mercenaries led by Dr. Müller, which is why the high fashion shoot would be a whole small black and white box at the end of the article. The real attraction was the original photo, which would go into Justine's private possession. 

Of course, it's not all flattering photos, Justine's new life had its own challenges. It's difficult to be taken seriously by ne'er-do-wells when you're an attractive young woman, especially when your very existence is a known story and a bit of a scandal in its own right. Fortunately, all this is minimized by Justine's experience with these types of folks, and the Captain's promise to rough up those who wouldn’t keep their mouths shut. Despite the intense atmosphere of the studio, Justine is calm. The few old photos of her that exist are so formal, so uncomfortable. Justine is beautiful, and she will flaunt it, even if it means indulging her unscrupulous editor to have professional risqué photographs taken of her.

So many pleasantries at this Polynesian villa, for a panorama of the elite is present at this party, their tailored jackets and dresses replaced by ridiculous Hawaiian shorts and swimsuits as garish as they are diminutive. The relaxed atmosphere hides the shared truth: they are all criminals, celebrating their host Armando Biancana's ingenious plan, a revolution in the activities of European organized crime. French, Italians, Irish, English, Greeks, Spanish, Turks, Georgians, Bordurians, all will send their money to one of Biancana’s many Pacific islands, thus increasing their profits and Armando’s. So far from the authorities, he will be invulnerable. Sicily, the south, then all of Italy will bow to his financial power. With victory assured, prosecco is abundant on the idyllic beach. 

The hole in the plan is the only guest present who doesn't seem ecstatic. Unlike all the other women present, she is not dressed in a pop art atrocity, but a sky blue one-piece swimsuit of distinguished elegance. With wine at her lips, lying parallel to the pool, her shapely thighs invite eager glances from almost everyone present, regardless of gender. Who is this looker? No one dares to ask her.

A subtle peripheral glance to check that there are no more admirers, she draws a pistol from her handbag and turns towards the crowd. Both her glare and her gun are aimed at Armando.

“Hands up!”

Being all professional criminals, a single armed woman shouldn't be so intimidating, but they are also rather drunk, and the leader, Armando is sobbing. It was she who had determined his place of residence, it was she who had stolen these important documents, it was she who had sent the letter suggesting this reception. The Interpol speedboats are rushing towards the beach, his empire has foundered. All because of that stupid girl with her nose in his business.

The criminals are now on their way to the cellular plane to Paris, and there is only Justine, the Thompsons and a few police officers still on the beach. 

“Miss Justine, this arrest was exquisitely beautiful.”

“I would even say more, this arrest was of a bequisitely exutiful.”

A smile forms on her face, ah those Thompsons. 

“We are no longer needed for the operation, our boat will leave soon.”

They both pull on their collars, both soaked with sweat.

“We should have learned our lesson after Khemed Thompson.”

“I would even say more, we should have learned our khesson after Lemed Thomson.”

Justine allowed a giggle.

“Do what you have to do, given I’m appropriately dressed, I have something left  to do here.”

She waves them goodbye, and can't help but laugh again when they both trip over the same seaweed. It is at this same moment that Snowy comes out of his hiding place, happy to run on the sand. Justine kneels next to him.

“Do you want to enjoy the tropics, my dear Snowy?”

He barks to affirm, receiving pets from her.

"Me too"

With bare feet, a bathing suit glistening in the sun and her hair reaching the middle of her back, she walks towards the water, as turquoise as her outfit. It’s been 10 years since she last swam for fun. 10 years since she could allow herself to be happy. Besides the adventure and the attention, the real journey she experienced was to relearn how to live without limits. That she no longer needed to stop herself from these things that she had thought impossible. Her friends, her fashion, her appearance, her hobbies, her social life, all rediscovered with her true identity. Compared to these radical transformations, there is little practical importance to recreational swimming. Right now it is simply a conclusion. There would always be pitfalls in her life, but none as big as the lie that had imprisoned her. The days of doing so much without distinction are over. She dives beneath the waves and admires her weightless self, her body perfect in the sunlight. A wave of euphoria takes hold of her. This simple observation is worth more than walking on the moon. 

Girl Tintin

[lailols]

NNN with TXT

MDNI!

Warnings: f!reader, unprotected sex, somnophilia, dildos, oral (f! Receiving)

Kai - within the first week

Let’s clarify, he did not lose because he couldn’t control himself, he just genuinely forgot what month it was. It’s not his fault he likes slow, sleepy morning sex. :(

He wakes up with morning wood as he so often does, and just goes on autopilot. Pulls your warm, soft body closer to him and rocks his cock gently against your ass until you wake up and flip around to face him.

You meet in a sloppy and slow but deep kiss, truly losing all sense of the world in the moment. That is until one (or both) of you gets too needy and works to strip you both of your bottoms without breaking the kiss.

It’s like clockwork the way you lift your leg onto his body to give him room to open you up. Him having to slide two, then three of his fingers into your mouth to get them wet first- he doesn’t even push them a little too far just to hear you gag, that’s how you know he’s out of it.

He takes his time opening you up while mapping out the contours of your mouth until you’re pulling away to whimper and plead with him to get inside of you. He hitches your leg up higher and slides home. He just rests there for a bit until he begins to rock slowly into you.

There’s no quick chase for an orgasm, just you and him moving your bodies together in an act that feels so good it has to be love. Your soft moans make a song in the bedroom. When you both come it’s with sighs and kisses and I love yous whispered into the early morning like a prayer. You both fall back asleep with him still buried deep inside you.

It’s not until he wakes up for real that he realizes what happened. He genuinely can’t even find it in him to be upset.

The cute one🐧

I am not your strongest soldier 😣✊

The loud one🐻

BOOOOOO TOMATO 🍅🍅🍅🍅

The tall one 🐰

Clap if you’re surprised

The smart one 🤓

Jun isn’t even playing and he lasted longer than you… I don’t think you qualify to be a soldier

The hot one 💯

^ a little (lot) embarrassing for you xx

Yeonjun - two weeks max

Yeonjun thinks the idea of No Nut November is stupid as hell, and he says as much in the group chat when the others bring it up. If he has a hot girlfriend, he’s going to fuck her. Simple as that.

He doesn’t need to edge himself for a month to ‘destroy you in December’ or whatever the hell they call it. He personally makes sure you have an out of body experience every time he lays his hands (or his thigh, or his mouth, or his cock) on you, thank you very much.

The only reason he ‘lasts’ as long as he does is because you both were swamped with work. Only having time for stolen kisses in the morning and quick dinners together before showering and going to bed.

He’s reminded of the stupid ass challenge just when your schedules calm down and Beomgyu does a mid-month ‘check-in.’ The text pisses him off so much he decides to fuck you then and there.

Bursting out of the room and finding you on the couch. Falling to his knees immediately in front of you and spreading your legs with no complaint from you. He slides your pants and underwear down together and thrusts his tongue into your hole holding your hips down so you don’t get in the way of his meal.

Pushing two fingers into you and finding that special spot inside of you so fast. Quick to work you open for him and having you come at least once before he even thinks about getting inside you. Laying you back on the couch with your legs hooked over his shoulders before he slides home.

Interlocking your hands as he ruts himself into you. And when you both come like that, he carries you to the bed and has his way with you again. He has half a mind to take a video and send it to the guys but he quickly decides they don’t deserve it because they tried to keep him from this. They thought he’d stay away from this? From you? Hell no. Fucking idiots is what they are.

The hot one 💯

Just finished having SEX with my HOT girlfriend, don’t think that’s a loss

The loud one🐻

Surprised you can still get it up at your age

The tall one 🐰

Another soldier has fallen, oh my

The cute one 🐧

He wasn’t even playing, why is he considered a soldier T_T

The smart one 🤓

Because he didn’t lose within the first week

Taehyun - about three weeks

Tae’s pretty competitive and thrives on a good win, but he’s only human. When he first told you about his participation in No Nut November, you were less than amused, but you supported him. You made sure to handle any ‘problems’ you had when he was out and only engaged in completely innocent contact.

You even went as far as refusing his offer to help you out without getting off himself. Telling him that while you’ve no doubt he’d make you feel good, you didn’t want to put him through that. For obvious reasons, you don’t usually tell him when you’re tending to your needs but he can guess it’s when he’s out. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious, but he knows himself well enough to realize that if he knew it wouldn’t help his situation.

But maybe he should’ve asked because walking into the room to find you riding a dildo doesn’t help him at all. To make matters worse, you seem so unsatisfied. Hunched over to place your hands on the bed to aid your movements. Tears streaming down your pretty face. Thighs shaking from exertion. Taehyun is many things, but cruel is not one of them (sometimes).

He has never claimed to be a saint or be completely free from the chains of self-control. And while he prides himself on his perseverance and dedication to perfecting himself, he knows that he is weak to one person and one person only, you. So seeing you in this position and knowing that he could make you feel better than that heap of plastic leads him to only one rational solution- helping you out.

It takes no effort at all to climb onto the bed and lift you up. To hush your confused mumbles and soothe your tears before laying you back and kissing you sweetly. He’s quick to grab the lube lying on the nightstand and pour some over his fingers before working you open again simply because he knows you didn’t do it right the first time. You’re always so eager to get on to the main event that you forget to take care of yourself, but that’s what he’s here for.

He’s so meticulous in stretching you out for himself. Placing his lips over yours so you don’t complain about his speed. Not even bothering to separate from you to pull his pants and boxers off all the way before sliding inside. But he does allow himself a few moments to revel in the feel of you. To take in your face scrunched in pleasure before he gives it to you.

This is what you needed, right? Tears streaming down your face, but not in frustration but pleasure. Your moans reverberating around the room. Your nails leaving scratches down his back. Your legs pushed to your chest. Sometimes he feels like this is what he was made for, making you feel good. He'll never feel bad for losing control when it comes to you.

The smart one 🤓

Can’t believe I’m out before the two biggest perverts

The tall one 🐰

Oh, how the mighty have fallen 😣😣

The loud one 🐻

What about PRIDE? What about HONOR?

The hot one 💯

You guys are taking this way too seriously

The cute one 🐧

Some call it mental illness

Beomgyu - the last week

“I never ask you for anything! Do this one thing for me!” Soobin looks like he’s not above getting on his knees and begging and since you’re in a public space, you quickly fire back.

“Gyu would kill me if he found out. And even if he did lose, if you also got off during November, you technically lose too.”

“But it’s not the same! Outlasting all of your friends is much more fun than just beating it straight up!” He clasps his hands and pouts, “Please, y/n, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t trying times.”

“Why are you so excited to win anyway? You guys aren’t even going for a prize.”

“So honor and bragging rights are a prize to you?”

“Well, no!” You look over at him. “I think this entire concept is silly.”

“Well, if you think it’s so silly, why not get your man to agree.”

“Because if Beomgyu is anything, he is silly.” You walk away, “Especially when beating you is an option.”

Even though you told Soobin off about his underhanded tactics, you can’t help but think of it more and more. To be honest, you do think that the concept of No Nut November is silly. You also really miss your boyfriend. Not that he’s outright ignoring you, but he has been keeping his distance.

Leaving you with short pecks and quick hugs. Not cuddling you or playfully touching you as he usually does. None of his teasing nips or kisses on your skin. No smirks or sly smiles. None of that. He says it’s because he can’t resist you, and really even him just saying that got you going.

You wouldn’t say you had a particularly high sex drive, but you do like being close to Gyu. Maybe you wouldn’t have done this if he at least held you a bit. Oh well. You’ll just blame it all on Soobin.

You’re currently in the bathroom putting on the prettiest white lingerie you’ve ever seen. You know how Gyu loves it when you’re in white, says that it’s such a juxtaposition to see you look so innocent while knowing you’re not. You put on one of his zip-ups over it and join him in the bedroom.

He’s on the game and you have no qualms going over and pushing his chair back. “Hey, what’s up baby? Do you need something?”

“I wanna be close to you, Gyu.” You say and then go to crawl in his lap before his hands grab your waist to stop you.

“Alright, but no funny business.” He fixes you with a look and squeezes your waste in warning. “Okay?”

“Okay, Gyu.” You climb onto his lap and straddling him with your head on his shoulder. “I’ll just stay like this, kay?”

You guys stay like that for a while before Gyu starts fidgeting.

“Wait, love.” He grabs your waist again to push you up. “It’s kinda hot, how about you take this jacket off and get back on?”

“Take it off for me?”

“Just this once.” He has a soft smile on his face as he pulls you to him and reaches for the zipper. He pulls it down just a few inches before his smile drops and he lets the zipper go like it burned him. “What’re you wearing under here?”

“Oh, I got something new and wanted to try it on.” You shrug as you reach up to pull the zipper all the way down, letting the jacket hang open. “Do you think it’s cute?”

He lets his eyes trail your body, his fingers flexing at his sides. “It’s very cute, love.”

“Do you think it would be cuter off?” Beomgyu takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Seemingly debating with himself on whether or not he should go along.

"You're evil, you know that?" That's all the warning you get before Gyu pounces on you. He doesn’t even have the decency to bring you to the bed. He simply pushes your panties to the side and takes you right there on the desk. Making up for lost time by capturing your lips in a heated kiss and having his hands roam your body. He knows it well, of course, but these weeks without it were torture for him.

He’ll make up for lost time, okay? Hope you don’t have anything important planned for the next few days.

The loud one 🐻

Choi Soobin, I hope you know that a win without dignity is a loss in the end

The cute one 🐧

Ooooh, what happened?

The smart one 🤓

Soobin convinced Gyu’s girlfriend to make him crack

The hot one 💯

Wow, didn’t think that would work

The tall one 🐰

Idc what you say, I’m a WINNERRRR 🏆🏆🏆🏆

Soobin - completed

He’s so lucky that you’re so understanding and supportive. He mentioned how he wanted to participate in No Nut November and, sure, you pouted and complained a bit but ultimately let him do as he wished.

He told you to go to sleep on November 30th but let you know that as soon as the clock struck midnight he’d be on you. Literally just sitting in bed next to your sleeping form watching the time pass. As soon as the clock hits midnight, he’s sliding under the covers and into his rightful place, between your thighs.

He’s lucky you’re sleeping because he really just takes a second to look at you. He knows you get embarrassed when he says it but you’re so pretty everywhere that he has to take a second (which is really a lot of minutes) to admire you :(. Placing little kisses and hickies on your thighs. Not even really trying to pleasure you, he just wants to worship you.

He really takes his time opening you up since he doesn’t have you whining in his ear to 'go fast' or 'stop looking.' With each finger he pushes into you, he’s sliding and mapping out the space of your cunt and places kisses on your clit and fucking slobbering all over you. He swears he’ll never go another month without you.

It’s when he’s working three fingers in your and watching the way your hole flutters around them, begging them to stay that you wake up. Your hand quickly finds his hair and pulls a bit as you sleepily whine and plea for him.

“I need to make sure you’re ready for me baby.” He shushes you before he sucks on your clit to bring a different sound out of you. “I don’t want to break you.”

He spends some more time sucking and pushing and prodding at you, before the throbbing in his boxers makes him get impatient. Making sure to push you over the edge at least once because he doesn’t trust himself to last very long when he gets inside you. When he’s satisfied, he makes his way up along your body. Leaving kisses and giving little nips until he’s at eye level with you. Pulling you in for a slow kiss.

He uses his hand to align himself with your slit so he can run along your wetness and coat himself in you. When he pushes in he has to stop at the tip because you’re already so tight around him and he’s getting lightheaded just from this. He matches your whimpers and whines with his own and he really really tried to be nice. He wanted to! But he already knows that’s all about to go out the window.

Moving one of his hands to your thigh to move it to your chest and the other on your hip so he can stabilize himself and then pushes the rest of his cock in you in one thrust. You both let out long moans as he comes inside of you. It’s so much. Leaking out of your pussy and dripping down your ass and his thighs.

“Just like this.” He brings his hand down to rub at your clit. “A little longer like this and then I’ll take care of you, baby.”

Again, I hope you don’t have anything planned for the next few days because he’s not letting you out of bed for a while.

The tall one 🐰

Well, guys, it was fun. Hope we can do it again next year!

The cute one 🐧

Hyung… it’s December 3rd

The loud one 🐻

He trapped his poor girlfriend in his bedroom for three days, and he calls himself a winner? I think monster is the better term

The smart one 🤓

He’s acting like this isn’t the first time he’s texted since he lost

The hot one 💯

Omg, it’s like they’re omegas in heat

[moonstruckme]

MAE!!! I'M HERE TO OFFICIALLY SPAM YOUR INBOX WITH REQUESTS (and no you don't have to answer all of them)

CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR 8K!!!

And first I would like to order a hot cocoa with James Potter and First Snow

Once again, massive congrats, Mae!!! Here’s to even more milestones (and my spam, of course)!

Thank you lovely <33

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 451 words

You’ve been up for hours by the time James rouses. 

You’d woken in the middle of night to peer outside, pulling open the curtains when you saw the snow blanketing your neighborhood. You had every intention of enjoying the peaceful view for a few minutes before you fell back asleep, except the peaceful view proved too exciting for you to drift off again. You’ve been half dozing while you’ve watched, mesmerized, as the pile outside your window has grown and the sun has come up. 

James reaches over and pulls you back into his chest with a warm, sleepy sound. You rub his forearm affectionately. 

His nose nudges behind your ear, cold. “Y’awake?” he mumbles. 

“Mhm.” 

He tugs at your hip, and you roll over, trading one view for another. James’ eyes are squinty and unfocussed the way they always are before he puts his glasses on in the mornings, his dark curls poofy on one side and crushed against his pillow on the other. He draws a line up your side with his palm. 

“It’s early for you, lovie.” 

You smile. You’re so happy your cheeks almost hurt. “It’s snowing.” 

“Oh, yeah?” James props himself up on an elbow to look over you out the window, then turns around to reach for his glasses when he can’t see anything. For reasons unbeknownst to you, watching your boyfriend adjust the bridge with his middle finger will never become less endearing. He blinks, taking in the scene outside. “Woah.” 

“Right?” You’re giddy. “It’s been going for hours.” 

“Looks like it,” James says, but his eyes are on you. He smiles adoringly. You kiss the uptilt corner of his lips on a whim, and it tilts further. “This is weird for me,” he admits. “Usually it’s me who wakes up first and has to try to get you out of bed.” 

“Who says I’m trying to get you out of bed?” 

He cups your cheek, squeezing. “You want to go out in the snow,” he says knowingly. 

You bite down on your lip in hopes of suppressing it, but your smile is unmistakably sheepish. James laughs, kissing you. 

“Give me just a second, angel.” He sits up, raising his arms above him in a stretch. 

“We can cuddle for a while first,” you offer. 

James looks at you. “You won’t be too eager to go?” 

You shake your head mutely. 

“Really? Because I was thinking that if I make cocoa now and let it simmer on the stove, it’ll be hot when we come back in.” 

You throw off the covers, going to find your clothes. “Good point. There’ll be plenty of time for cuddling later.” 

James laughs as he follows you up.

[writingwisterias]

Patience is key

ID!Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, Slight Homewrecker Leon, Oral (M receiving), Cheating (not Leon or Reader), Drinking, Penis in Vagina Sex, slight Overstimulation, unprotected sex, aftercare

Felt inspired by @biohazard-4ever post the other day! Click Here. It was only meant to be a drabble and then it turned into a whole oneshot! Hope you enjoy

He knew it was wrong as he watched you argue with him. The evidence of your partner cheating, that he so lovingly collected for you, slapped against the desk as you practically threw it there. He watched as his co-worker stumbled to find the correct words, as he desperately ran through every pathetic excuse he could possibly come up with to keep that ring on your finger. But it was too late. Leon bit his lip to hide the smirk as he heard the metal clatter against the mahogany desk. You stormed off ignoring the looks of his other Co workers, tears escaping your pretty eyes no matter how hard you tried to keep it together.

He didn't need to follow you, he knew where you would end up. Where he knew you craved to be despite your relationship. Leon never missed your cautious touches or lingering looks when you spoke with him; bandaged his wounds. In the past months he found himself lingering towards the medic bay, using his hangovers as excuses to get your soft fingers to caress his forehead as you applied the soothing cream. It was in these moments he felt the tension, the need that rolled off your body. The only evidence he needed to know that dickhead wasn't satisfying you.

Perhaps it was too soon to lean into him, to follow the tug against your soul that called for Leon to be the right person. Maybe it's because in a time period you felt so fragile and broken he made you feel loved. Handing out the small sections of affection you craved with your partner. Leon was cunning, you knew his plans when the only solution to the problem he would offer was for you to separate; to call off the wedding you had excitedly been planning. Yet you didn't stop him, you actually listened to his promises of a better future; without even realizing it was one he wanted to give you. Leon's arm welcomed you, his scent suffocating you further. You didn't want to cry, you couldn't cry; it was done. Your relationship you were building for years over in a flash - perhaps it was over before you shouted at him in the workplace, when he decided to cheat and chose that woman he knew you were jealous of instead. Perhaps it was over when you looked into Leon's eyes and he took the flask back. The whiskey warmed your system against the cold, his body making you feel fuzzy.

Leon didn't have to follow you out because you would end up back to him again. Looking up at him with your pretty tearful eyes as you begged him for comfort. So he could sooth your forehead from those deadly thoughts of worthlessness that would begin to claim your mind now he had admitted it. He finally let his smirk free when his phone chimed;

Usual spot?'

You didn't need his reply to know he would show up, you wiped your eyes with your sleeves ignoring the makeup that stained your jumper. You were to look like a mess right now as you sat at the bench. Your fingers craving something to hold onto as you felt like you were drowning, praying for the world to give you a happy ending for once. Leon's aftershave filled your nose as he sat down, the musky scent overpowering the saltiness of the pier. He was highlighted by the setting sun, giving his skin a warm orange glow as he looked at you. His confidence was dangerous, his smirk just as deadly when he looked at you. Leon was always a secret desire, a curse that you didn't meet before you wasted your time with the idiot that claimed to love you. His hip flask was cold against your hand as he pulled it from his jacket, handing it over as a silent invitation. He already knew what happened, he had swooped in over your rants and fear of your partner's infidelity when you accidentally let it slip when you tended to him again. So he began to help to the point of handing you the evidence.

There was no reason for you to reject him now; you were technically a free woman. Leon was waiting for your move, to tell him yes or no with your body language. "Do you want to go somewhere else?" His voice rumbled throughout your body from where you were laying against his side. The chill of the bench now bit against the fabric that covered your legs. "Please" you meekly responded. You allowed him to lead you away, to follow him towards his bike. You wrapped your arms around him, tugging your body close to his as you trusted him to take you away; to follow him in a new life.

His apartment wasn't anything new, you had shared many moments on the couch you were now perched upon, wrapped in the jumper he always preserved for you in the wardrobe. The glasses clinked on the coasters as he set them down, the whiskey bottle soon after as he filled the glasses with the amber liquid. The TV was quiet in the background of the room, the reality TV show providing entertainment neither of you were interested in. Leon's fingers itched to touch you, to tangle them in your hair as he tugged you close to his body. He was so close to succeeding his goal, to having you instead of that petty excuse of a man. You tried to focus on the TV and not the shift in his thighs or the way his fingers clenched against them. His jeans were tight around his crotch his bulge prominent and he wasn't even hard. You wanted to tease him, to be the reason his jeans became uncomfortably hard but it was too soon wasn't it? Would it make you just as bad as your partner? You were sure he would just go crawling on her arms now he had the freedom to do so. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad that you did the same.

Leon could feel your gaze, the intensity of it as he turned to meet. His eyes darkened as he peered at the lust that now glazed over your own. It was instinct that he leaned in capturing your lips with his in a clash of passion. He didn't care he was so eager to help you dump your ex, practically feeling giddy when he took those photos when he caught him in the act. All of it was worth it for you. To taste the hint of whiskey on your lips, to smell his aftershave and wash powder faintly on his hoodie that swamped you. His touch was needy, sliding under the item of clothing touching the skin of your waist. He towered over you, sinking you back into the fabric of the sofa. Leon's hips thrusted against you; the jeans providing friction to his actions. You could feel his need already, the bulge now prominent with the exact thing you craved.

His fingers paused at the clasp of your bra silently waiting for your permission. You knew if you didn't want this he would move, forget this happened and wait but he didn't have to do that because he caught the small nod of your head. A low chuckle leaving his lips as the smirk finally leaked onto his face. His body was too inviting, made you feel too special as he freed your tits from the bra. His finger instantly rolls over your pebbled nipples causing small whines to leave your lips. He swallowed them, drowning in the small heaves your body gave off as you lifted your chest towards his fingers with each breath. His stubble tickled your neck as he sucked on the skin there. You finally tugged on the strands of his hair bringing him close to you. His nose dug against the pulse point of your neck as his teeth nibbled leaving small marks. Claiming you as his finally.

Your hands reach to pull your pants and underwear away, attempting to shimmy the fabric away a difficult task with how he was pressed against you. Leon pulled back helping you, admiring how desperate you were to be treated right. He began to work on his own trousers, his cock springing free from his restraints. You admired it as he took off his shirt, you wanted to taste the beads of pre cum that dribbled from his tip. Leon sighed when he felt your kitten licks, his thrusted forward forcing his cock to enter the warmth of your mouth accidentally. He wanted to apologize until he heard your moan. The sound vibrates around his length like the expensive flesh light he has tucked away in his bedside table.

You were forgiving, taking his length as best you could whilst you ground yourself against the couch. You knew you looked pathetic, like some horny dog beneath him yet when you looked at him beneath your lashes he looked at you lovingly. Like he enjoyed how much you were pleasuring yourself instead of looking at you like you were providing a service or taking too long. His hand stroked the soft strands of your hair as he urged you to take more of him smiling as he felt you gag around him. "I don't want to do it like this princess, as nice as it feels" he whispered, almost pleading. You released him a line of dribble and pre cum following you.

You reached your hands at the hem of the jumper, ready to display your breasts for you but he stopped you. His hands pulling yours away pinning them above your head. "Don't you want to see them?" You whispered, confusion pinching at your brows. His hair fell over his face as he shook his head, "And miss the chance of fucking you in this jumper? The jumper I keep just for you to wear one-day as a proud display of being mine?"

His words sent heat to pool in your lower stomach, your clit throbbing with need and desperation of friction...pleasure. And who was Leon to deny you? To prevent you from feeling what a real man's love is, what a genuine orgasm is. So he began to work, one hand slithering down as he distracted you with a heated kiss. You gasped against his lips as he began to circle your clit, occasionally brushing over the sensitive nerve. He smiled as your hips followed his movements desperately trying to chase the pleasure that flooded your system. His mouth released yours allowing you whines and quick pants fill the room. He could feel his cock twitching the more the thought about your fold welcoming him. He slid his hand between your folds groaning at the arousal that had begun to leak against his couch.

He pulled his hand away, swallowing your whine with another kiss as he pushed himself into your warmth. He let out a deep groan as he bottomed out, feeling you clench around him. Leon was larger than your ex, stretching you more than he ever did. His balls thumbed against your ass as he began to move. His hands finally pulled away from your wrists, his thighs shimming under yours. His hands gripped at yours almost bruising the flesh as he started to move. You watched his eyes close as his mouth parted. For some reason you never expected him to be so vocal but the sounds were welcome.

You felt bad comparing him to your ex, comparing how much better he touched you, how possessive he was over you. You could feel the dull throb of the marks that littered your neck, your body covered in a light sheen of sweat from the heat his jumper was trapping. His thrusts quickened as he focused on drawing an orgasm out of you, his eyes pinning you in place as he watched your face contort in pleasure. He loved this. So thankful he did what he did to get it, it was his little secret gathering the evidence, pointing him in the direction of a coworker he knew the pathetic man wouldn't be able to resist.

He knew you were the one, no matter how persistent he was to treat you right before he formed his plan you rejected him and now you were here. Panting beautifully getting lost in the pleasure his cock was giving you. Your walls clenched tightly around him signalling you were close. So he worked faster. His pace was unforgiving, your toes curled against his waist as you wrapped your legs around him. Your nails scraped the skin on his forearms. "Please....please...leon- so close" you panted, chest heaving. He smirked angling his hips higher at the request. His fingers toying with the ball of nerves. Finally you broke, becoming limp in his arms as your orgasm shattered through you.

He followed through, working towards his own as he felt you gush around him. It didn't take long as the balls tightened. "Where?" He groaned trying to hold back waiting for your reply. You blinked at him smiling as you tried to process his words. "Princess...please..where?" He grunted. His fingers tapped your cheek bringing your attention back to him. "Inside..." You stuttered. You smiled as you felt his warmth flood through you. His load shooting so deep inside you, filling you with his essence. Leon's hips shuddered, his head falling against your shoulder as he savoured the feeling.

When he pulled his softened cock out he immediately began to find a cloth or tissue. You watched his naked form roam around his house. You admired him, appreciate his aftercare was to take care of you as you laid dazed on his couch before even dressing himself. Your form highlighted from the TV lights. His touch was soft and gentle as he cleaned you. Pulling on your underwear before his own. When he returned to the couch, sinking into the soft cushions he pulled you into his arms, enjoying how this felt as he draped a throw over the two of you. He kissed the crown of your head watching you as your eyes fluttered close. In this moment he promised not to mess up this chance, to finally have someone to care for, to live for. Even if he did do unconventional methods to obtain you, but that was his little secret.

[beautifulsavagegarden]

Okay, so, let's put the brakes on for a second and consider. Lestat has lost his family in a way that Louis hasn't. His brothers were killed in the Revolution, his mother abandoned him and he doesn't even know if they are still alive and if they are then they care so little about him that they won't even give any indication that they are still alive. His father is obviously gone too and the family that he found in Nicolas and, to a lesser degree, the troupe at Renault's are also long gone. He has been alone for longer than he finds bearable at this stage in his life. He was cast out after meeting Akasha and now he has found the love of his existence who is tormented by the change in his relationship with his mortal family. Lestat understands that pain and he tries to help Louis through it, he tries to remind him that they are together and they are family to each other. For Louis to then yell that he lost his family, to essentially reject Lestat is so painful to him. It's utterly heartbreaking because here he is faced with, once again, losing his family. To have come so close to that and instead having a daughter, evil of his evil, and for Louis himself to say that they are; it restores a concept of family that both Lestat and Louis had been searching for. Lestat thinks to himself that this is it and this will make everything better for them all and that he will be happy, that this family won't be torn from him and he won't be alone again.

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE 1x2 | 1x3 | 1x4

[festering-obsession]

NSFW Veilguard Headcanons

CW/Tags: 18+, smut, reader is rook but no name is mentioned, gender neutral pronouns, afab genitalia, implied age gap, tiny spoiler (?)

Emmrich Volkarin

- Emmrich will forever treasure the fact you chose him. Especially after the line, "You're my first, well, anything..." He can't help but get excited to show you all he has to offer. Emmrich is experienced, in contrast, but he has never had a partner who wanted to stay with him long-term. He also never had a partner who had desired him as much as you do, which he gladly reciprocates to.

- Emmrich is a romantic man at heart. He plans to wine and dine you before pulling you out of those nice clothes you wore for the date! He agrees you looked amazing in that outfit, but the hungrier part in him wants to see you writhing underneath him. But, if he sees you with his buttoned up shirt loosely around you when the two of you wake up, he can feel the stir in him once again. How could he not? He near worships every part of you, and you chose him. He can't wait to strip you of that shirt again.

- He loves to give, but he won't deny receiving. He loves the sounds that fall out your mouth as you become undone around his tongue and fingers. Even better, he loves to finally sheathe himself deep in you, wet and ready. Your warm walls feel as if he can lose all composure.

- He also loves it when you cockwarm him. Your warm, naked body on his lap. Your bare back meeting the coolness of his jewelry and embellishments on his vest as he slowly traces a thumb over your clit as you bounce up and down for relief. His other hand a book or perhaps he's looking over a lesson plan for whenever he's back to being a professor teaching. It's safe to say nothing really gets done. More of a challenge for himself to see how long he can resist you before he bends you over his desk.

- He's entranced with your body. He's well versed in anatomy, and he loves using you to help test his knowledge. Emmrich maps you out, knowing where you like to be kissed, touched, caressed. He loves hearing the sounds you make as he moves from your neck down to your navel. He loves the sounds made from when he enters you. Your little moans fill his ears as the lewd sounds of his cock driving into your walls fill the room.

Lucanis Dellamorte

- It takes him a while to fully trust you and his own desires, but when he does, he's nothing short of obsessed from your cunt. He loves eating you out, tasting your juices, lapping it all up excitedly like a starved man. What's more is you can feel his stubble tickle between your thighs, soaking that too with how long he'll still buried deep in between your legs. It won't be long before your legs are sore from being parted so long. And are those hickies covering all over your thighs?

- Something to think about with Lucanis... Primal play. He can pick up people's scent, especially thanks to Spite. Imagine convincing him to indulge you on the idea. Your in Arlathan forest (an area that you cleared of blight and it's darkspawn), and he gives you the headstart. But, no matter where you run to and hide, Lucanis will find you with ease. It thrills Spite even more so. What he would do if Lucanis would just let him take over, he'd help find you so much faster!

- But the skilled crow manages to find you, but he can't deny the thrill he gets when he finally spots you, in a bush with your head poking out as you try to see if he was close. Mierda, it makes him want you so bad. When you finally see him approaching you fast and you began to run, he can feel Spite holding onto more control of him, the wings sprouting out as he jumps over fallen logs and crumbled Elven debris to finally get you. He grabs you, knocking you down, and you're pinned against the ground. And... you can feel how pent up he got from the chase, and you can't deny how much you want to rush back to the Lighthouse to relieve that.

- He's also a romantic man. He's the type to have rose petals thrown about in your room, vanilla scented candles glowing, and a bottle of wine on hand ready for the two of you. He'll take you anyway you like, but his favorites are the ones where he can see your eyes as they roll back. He's also a sucker for the mating press, where he can reach the deepest parts of you to make you moan and squirm uncontrollably. Only he gets the privilege to see you like this. And maybe Spite. But he also loves taking you from behind, where he can lean down and kiss on your neck... which you might have to hide for tomorrow's mission.

Davrin

- Nibble on his ears during sex if you have enough reach! It'll make him lose control for a second, a sweet sweet groan coming out. But, you might have to deal with the consequences after. That being him pressing you down as you get covered in kisses.. and probably hickies. Might as well give him some back. His armor will cover it, but he won't deny how warm his face will get if someone sneaks a peak of them.

- Casual dominance with Davrin... He can easily pick you up and grab you by the hips if an enemy thought it had the upper hand, protecting you easily with a slash of his sword. Or, throwing you over his shoulder to take you to his bed. Or, when he has you under him, thrusting in and out of you, and his hand presses down on the light outline he can see. His big hands gripping the sides of your hips, steadying yourself when you no longer can.

- Practice sparring with Davrin, no magic or weapons, just hand to hand combat... which most of the time ends two ways. You're somehow able to knock him down, pinning him to the ground, straddling over his hips. There's something about you asserting your own dominance over him that makes him want you right then and there. Or, he pins you to the wall, thigh between your legs leaving you with no chance of escape. There's something about how you look up at him. The leader of the Veilguard under his mercy. It doesn't take long before you start grinding down on his muscular thigh, eliciting needy sounds from yourself and him.

- Wall sex with him. He definitely has the strength for it. Either he's holding you up against the wall, your arms draped over his shoulders as he thrusts into you, your warm walls sucking him in. Or, you're against the wall. Your fingers outstretched as your palms face the cold wall, desperate to ground yourself as you can feel the desperation in his pace to claim you as his as much as he can.

- He prefers being able to take his time with you, but sometimes the adrenaline left over from killing a horde of darkspawn gets his blood pumping. The way his valiant leader looks up and controls the flow of battle with ease makes him desire you in a way so carnal that he needs you alone with him immediately. Of course, he's good at hiding it (and thankfully his armor hides any bulge), but as soon as he gets you to himself, you'll be seeing how needy he gets. Davrin's lips locking with yours as his armor clatters to the ground.

[hotshotsxyz]

too little, too late

(8x08 coda) (buddie) (1.2k) the episode chose violence and so did i :) spoilers for 8x08, and hey, guess what? this is my 100th 911 fic! it feels right that it's an evil one <3

The real estate agent has an irritating voice. It’s pitchy and run through with vocal fry, and if Buck has to listen to her talk for another second, he might actually tear his hair out. And it’s definitely about her voice. Nothing to do with the largely helpful information she’s handing over to Eddie like candy on Halloween.

“Anyway, we can touch base again once you’ve had a chance to look over those listings. I’m sure we’ll find something for both of you to love!” the realtor says.

Buck smiles. It feels brittle and fake.

“Thank you so much,” Eddie says with all the sincerity Buck can’t quite muster. He ends the call and sits back against the couch.

“That, uh—that went, um—” He’s choking on the positivity he’s trying so hard to exude. “—well,” he manages.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He runs a hand through his hair. “Seems easier than I thought it was going to be.”

Easy.

That’s—

Yeah.

“You know you—you don’t have to buy straight away,” Buck says as casually as he can manage, which is to say, not casually at all.

“Buck,” Eddie says with a sigh.

“I know!” Buck says, throwing his hands out in a gesture of surrender. “Just—maybe you want to make sure, you know? Before it’s—it’s permanent.”

“I can’t keep missing out on his life,” Eddie says quietly.

Buck swallows. He knows. He knows! Knows it like he knows there’s going to be an Eddie-and-Chris shaped hole in his heart for the rest of his goddamn life.

“I don’t want you to,” Buck says, and it’s maybe the first honest thing that’s come out of his mouth since he sat down on Eddie’s couch.

Bile rises in the back of his throat as he realizes this might be one of the last times he gets to sit on this couch, in this house, with this man.

Eddie drops his head into his hands. “I don’t—” He cuts himself off.

“Have you told Bobby yet?” Buck asks. His breath catches.

“No,” Eddie says.

“Oh,” Buck says in a rush of air. “That’s—” He wants to say good. He can’t say good. Eddie needs—he needs—

Eddie lifts his head from his hands and his eyes are shining. “I don’t want to,” he admits. “I thought—”

“That he’d want to come back,” Buck supplies when Eddie doesn’t finish his thought.

He nods.

“He still—he could still—” Buck starts.

“He’s not going to change his mind.” Eddie cuts him off. “He doesn’t hate me. It’s worse than that. He doesn’t care.”

Buck’s chest feels tight. “He—he loves you, Eddie,” he says weakly.

“Maybe before, but—”

“He does,” Buck insists. “And—and if this is what you have to do to make sure that stays true I—I get it.” He does. He gets it. He’d do anything for Christopher. He’d—

It’s the worst feeling in the entire fucking world, but he’d give up Eddie for that kid. Is. Is giving up Eddie for that kid. A sob jumps up in Buck’s throat. He fights it back.

“I want to believe you,” Eddie says.

Buck knows that he doesn’t.

“Have you, um. Have you talked to Chris about this yet?” Buck asks, feeling a little bit like he’s just laid his neck across the base of a guillotine.

Eddie shakes his head. “No, I—I’ve got to do this, whether he wants me to or not.”

All at once Buck’s angry. Angry at Eddie, angry at his parents, at fucking Kim, at himself, and maybe even a little bit at Christopher.

“Eddie, you—you told him he could come back!” He says, a little louder than he means to. “Doesn’t he deserve to know that’s not going to be an option anymore?”

Eddie’s gaze snaps to his. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s got—he’s got friends here, and—and Carla, and—” He can’t say it. He doesn’t have the right to say it, doesn’t have the right to feel like he’s already lost a limb and now they’re taking a lung, but— “and me,” he finishes quietly.

Something like devastation flashes across Eddie’s face. “Buck, I—”

“No,” Buck says quickly, standing up from the couch. “I shouldn’t have—I’m not—”

“Buck, wait,” Eddie says, following him as he retreats toward the door.

“I, um—I forgot, I have to—I promised Maddie,” he tries to lie.

“Please don’t go,” Eddie says, and god, how many times in Buck’s life has he yearned to hear someone say that to him and mean it. How many nights has he driven home from Eddie’s wishing he’d been asked to stay.

This thing building in his chest, this thing of anger and grief and regret—it hurts. Every breath he takes is a little more constricted, a little less effective.

Eddie looks at him, and Buck sees it. That thing he’s always wanted to see. That thing he didn’t even know he wanted from Eddie until right now and it’s—

There was a small, naïvely hopeful part of Buck that really still believe that if someone loved him enough, they’d stay. Eddie loves him, looks at Buck like he’ll break his heart when he walks out the door, and it still isn’t—

Eddie loves him, and it isn’t enough to make him stay.

Buck is in love with him, he realizes, and it doesn’t fucking matter because he’s leaving. Like Abby and like Tommy, except Buck didn’t know how much hurt he hadn’t even discovered yet, because this isn’t Abby or Tommy, it’s Eddie, and Eddie—

Eddie’s supposed to be the one that stays.

Buck shakes his head and shuffles back until the doorknob is digging into his spine. “I have to,” he breathes, a grossly distorted reflection of what neither of them has quite managed to say.

Eddie opens his mouth like he’s going to ask again, like he’s going to beg Buck to stay, to show him all these awful pieces of his heart that he’s just found so he can remind himself that it’s not too much to leave behind.

Buck’s out the door before he can say another word.

He throws himself into the Jeep and all but fishtails it out of Eddie’s driveway. He makes it three streets away before he has to pull over.

The first sob surprises him with its softness; the second with its violence. He wraps his arms tight around his stomach and, god, he tries to breathe. But there’s not—there’s not enough oxygen in the entire world to make up for the way his lungs refuse to expand in the face of this loss.

He has to—he can’t—Eddie needs him to pull it together. To—to help him. To support him, and god help him, Buck will. There’s nothing Eddie could ask of him that he wouldn’t give. Nothing Eddie could do, Buck’s realizing, to make him love him any less.

Hot tears spill down Buck’s cheeks. He takes a shuddering breath and wipes them away. His vital organs are crumbling, so what?

He’ll set himself on fire if that’s what it takes to keep Eddie warm.

[heian-era-housewife]

More horny thoughts...

18+ • mdni • mdni • mdni • mdni • 18+

Sukuna needs sex in the way that some people need food for its nutritional value only. He has no desire for carnal pleasures or the closeness he will feel to another human being. He has a need. The need is met. He moves on.

Since his time in the Heian Era, he has always handled this himself. When the urge arises in such a way it can no longer be ignored, he usually retires to the onsen, soaking himself in the warm water, one or two hands wrapped around each of his throbbing lengths, pulling and stroking until his satisfied seed comes spilling into his fists.

But this time is different. This time, he has you. The one it has taken him eons to find. The one his heart has settled on.

And as he comes to find that familiar need boiling up in his gut once again, it is with you he retires to his private onsen. It is with you he wishes to satisfy his longing. It is with you he wants to share his seed, pouring his love into your precious body in a way he's never known. You and only you.

He is beyond hungry. He is ravenous. And you are his chosen indulgence.

[thegreymoon]

Well, this got several hundred notes in a few days and I am BLOWN AWAY by all you people and the support I received. The Merlin fandom remains the best 💙💙

Anyway, this post is for my buddies who think I'm some sort of accomplished artist and are asking me for my horse-drawing secrets (I love you all, BTW):

Secret no. 1: USE A REFERENCE!

Using a reference is not cheating! All the great artists used references, had models sit for them and whatnot. Leonardo da Vinci WISHES he had our resources and didn't have to create them himself! I personally had a good behind-the-scenes photo of Bradley and Colin (and the horse) in this pose, which made my life here very, very easy.

Secret no. 2: USE A GRID!

If you struggle with perspective (and spatial awareness in general, like yours truly here), a grid can be of immense help. What you do is you slap a grid on that reference photo, and then slap an identical one on your blank canvas. Now you can start drawing. It is much easier to gauge where the lines are supposed to go in smaller designated squares than on a whole empty sheet of paper. Now, this may sound tedious and like a lot of work, especially initially, but it will improve your art by leaps and bounds. I promise it's worth it and it is ALSO NOT CHEATING!

Secret no. 3: USE LAYERS!

This one applies only to digital artists and honestly, I'm not going to pretend I'm any kind of expert here because I too don't know what the hell I'm doing. Any results I get are purely accidental, after too much experimentation with brushes and brush settings. However, I find the layers to be immensely helpful. I noticed people appreciating the details on the horse and they were all done in layers. The harness and the decorations had at least a dozen, where I layered the colours to get that shading effect. Again, this may seem tedious and unnecessary, but it is much easier to edit and delete the stuff that is not working in a single layer than it is to edit the whole painting. I am sure that more accomplished artists can do this in far fewer layers (or a single one), but I am not one of them and I never shied away from using any tools that can help me get the desired effect. Of course, once you get what you are looking for, I recommend merging the layers so that your final piece does not end up with 200 of them or something equally ridiculous.

In any case, I hope that helps! References, grids and layers are my (not-so-secret) secrets! 😅 Enjoy drawing and have fun!

Flowers for his dollophead.

Done in Autodesk Sketchbook.

[robo-writing]

wait so I have an idea for single mother! reader and Logan. maybe single mother! reader has a toddler, and she’s just desperately needing help, so like she asks Logan for help, and Logan finding the reader gorgeous, he quickly says yes without hesitation, so he takes care of her and her toddler, Logan and reader are falling HARD for each other, and like Logan had made himself such a big figure in her and her kids life, that he just says “I love you darlin’ please let me stay with you. I can help you. I can help with everythin’ you need help with. Just let me stay. Let me love you, and let me be there for you two.” AND LIKE SO NOW LOGAN IS SO LIKE IMPORTANT FOR THEM and her toddler is so happy because she thinks Logan is her dad, and knows reader is her mom.

Logan comes around much more frequently as of late, as if he didn’t already before.

What were occasional visits now become once a day, it’s gotten to the point that he doesn’t even bother with excuses now—he just shows up to your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers and a predators gaze, laces his arm around your back and buries his face into your neck—missed you sweetheart, did’ya miss me?

He holds you close, firm—the smell of oak and bourbon assaulting your senses—it makes you dizzy; the intimacy of it all, the carnality that bleeds from his fingertips. Possessive of something he doesn’t even have.

“Logan, you shouldn’t—“ you begin, palms splayed against the wall of muscle that is Logan, only to be met with mocking laughter.

“Shouldn’t, or can’t?” His breath is hot, nicotine laced. His tone is sweet, but his words betray the beast that lurks within. “Because I’ll tell you now—you’re not gettin’ rid of me that easy.”

His words give you pause, and in the moment it takes for your brain to catch up he’s already leaning away. “Besides, I like this little game we’re playing—you pretend you don’t want me to fuck you stupid, and I pretend that you don’t walk in front of the windows in nothing but a t-shirt and panties at night.”

You sputter in embarrassment, suddenly self-aware. “I-I do not—“

“No, no, it’s fine sweetheart,” he begins. “But if you want my opinion, I like the lacy ones the best.”

“You’re a fucking pervert,” you growl, and he has the audacity to laugh in your fucking face. The need to meet your hand to his face rises, but you’re not a hundred percent sure it would even phase him—worst case scenario, it would actually turn him on.

As much as you want to kick him out, you can never seem to find the courage to do so—he’s great with your daughter, and unfortunately a babysitter is too expensive for your income, so you grit your teeth and bear with it.

You let him in—of course you do—if only to appease your squealing daughter galloping towards the door at the sound of his voice. He picks her up in a single arm, leaving the bouquet impressively untouched as he hoists her into the air, her laughter bringing a smile to your face.

It’s not because you actually enjoy his company, and it’s not because the thought of him sets your blood on fire. It’s not because he’s right about how you bury your head into your pillow, two fingers deep imagining how his cock would fill you better than his fingers, and it’s most certainly not because you moan his name when you come.

He’s just a very good babysitter.

He’s just a very good babysitter.

As your daughter leads him further inside, he looks back at you with that cock-sure grin—the one that makes your hand itch again.

“Same time tonight?”

[arpicityandneed]

You, Me, and the King

18+ f!reader. King bucky. Knight Steve. Queen reader. Dirty talk. polyship. light choking. creampie. Cuckolding. Voyeur!Steve.

~

If anyone noticed the visible bulge in the Steve's breeches they knew better than to say anything. The hefty sword he carried on his hip mixed with the deadly glare he gave everyone that passed by helped. They also knew better than to comment on the high pitched wails coming from the door Steve was guarding with his life. The new King and Queen were still on their honeymoon, locked away for days on end as they worked to fulfill their duty to the kingdom.

"J-James!"

He had you on your knees, your arms long since having given out as he thrusted into you. Every plap plap plap of his balls against your swollen clit echoed by the squelching of your pussy gobbling up his cock greedily. James pulled you up until his hand was around your throat, his hips never ceasing as he forced your back to arch. It made you squeal when he hit that special spot inside you. (Outside the door Steve had to clench his jaw and readjust his erection. He knew exactly what that sound meant, he heard it often enough now.)

You were usually quiet and shy, hiding at your King's side and whispering in his ear when you did have something to say. But every single time James got his cock in you, you couldn't help yourself. And your husband loved it.

"That's it my Queen. Let them, fuck, let him hear you sing for me." James let his scarred left arm wrap around you, his massive hand finding your clit easily as he fucked himself into your slick folds. You'd long since felt your own juices run down to your knees. You were sure James' balls were sticky as well.

"Please, James, I can't-" you sobbed as you came again, milking his thick shaft and making him curse.

"But you can, my love. Just a couple more. You have to if you're to give me an heir." He cooed at you, holding up your limp body as you tried to keep up with his endless stamina.

"Steve will lick you all better if you're sore later, promise." Your pussy tightened at the mention of your husband's head knight making James groan loud and filthy in your ear.

The man had grown up with your King, and you knew James trusted him more than he trusted anyone else. He'd even entrusted you to the blond. When your King was busy and you were aching, it was Steve who used his mouth and his fingers to make you feel all better. You'd even had him in your mouth when you felt bold. You wanted to practice, get better at pleasing your new husband. Steve always taught you so kindly knowing exactly what his King liked. You suspected they were more intimate than they let on and the thought made your pussy throb. But you'd never had Steves cock inside you. It was the one rule you had to follow. So when your husband mentions Steve you can't stop the embarrassed whimper that escapes you.

"I know, I know, you want his cock too." Your face burned at the truth of his words, and he laughed feeling your pussy get impossibly tight around him. "Just gotta let my cum all the way in your pretty tummy first. Gotta give me an hier."

"I'll be g-good, give you baby. Promise!" You knew Steve could hear every single word. Knew he'd be suckling on your clit later as he fucked James' cum back into you when it leaked out. The very thought made you cum again, your fluttering walls dragging James along with you. He cursed, his grip tightening around your throat as his cock throbbed inside you.

"Take it my love, take every fucking drop-" He growled as he grabbed at the fat of your hip, using the leverage to fuck every spurt of cum deeper than the last.

When you both collapsed onto the bed, he cradled you to his chest kissing you slow and deep and drugging. You expected him to let you go to help you clean up a bit like he normally did. But he made no move to separate himself from you. You felt your cheeks heat once more when you realized why.

"James-" Your husband's icy blue eyes were locked onto where your bodies were joined, of the creamy mess he'd made of your pussy, but he seemed to know what you were asking if the smirk on his plump lips was anything to go by.

"Shh, just making sure it takes."

[niby-skaje]

Emmrich shouldn't be allowed to become a Lich if romanced.

Okay. Hear me out.

Regardless of our personal views as a player/Rook on a subject of lichdom, I feel, given what we've learned, that lich lords of Necropolis should not allow Emmrich to become a lich if he has a beloved.

Lichdom is important. It is rare - so rare that Emmrich himself mentions that he was the lords' first living petitioner in a long time. There aren't many liches there I suppose. We only get to see a maximum of three at a time. It is not something to be trifled with, as the process is some high, advanced magic with the soul sifting required and the journey one has to partake - journey of self-discovery and learning to even be considered worthy. And then it still can go wrong. Our soul may still fail the final test (I assume it must be a possibility).

And then, the burden - the burden of knowledge, of power and responsibility that they have. We know that if we choose to bring Manfred back, then lichdom is lost for Emmrich forever for it shows that he cannot accept that others, those dear to him, will inevitably die, and that would mean that he might be susceptible to the abuse of power, as the lich we speak to states. Such power in the wrong hands could easily lead to tyranny.

But when Emmrich is romanced, he becomes even less able to accept mortality - this time not only his own, but Rook's as well. And while lichdom may take away the fear of death he's felt all his life (if in a healthy way, that's another matter entirely), it replaces it with something new - the fear of losing his love. And not just fear - the knowledge, the certainty, that Rook WILL die. If not now, then someday, in twenty, maybe forty years. But it will. It is as certain as life and death itself.

And Emmrich has waited so long for the love of his life! Even if we omit all the banter and all the little things in the game, he himself tells us that we are the best thing that has ever happened to him. Most magnificent, in his own words. And from the little bits here and there we get to know that he longed for that kind of love all his life.He has turned to other things, to the pursuit of knowledge and immortality, because he has given up hope - only for love to find him so late, right on the doorstep of his lichdom. He accepts it, he allows himself to be swayed by that love, he immerses himself in it completely, like a besotted fool (again, in his own words).

With all that, we know that once the time comes, he cannot and will not let Rook go. He may have slight doubts and we may talk to him about it, but we know that he cannot really choose and in the end he refuses to do so, assuring us that his love will be unchanged even as a lich. But that is not true, for now his love is different, as he now knows that we will be parted and he will remain. The dread he's felt all his life now changes its target, and the love and the fear become so intertwined, so painful, in a way he didn't even expect.

Very, very dangerous for someone with such immense power.

And then, after being trapped in the Fade he tells us that he will allow nothing to part us again. "Not in this, nor any other world". He will find a way, no matter the cost. Even as a lich, though some of his senses may be altered or dulled, he still feels, the emotions still flow within him as they did when he was mortal, perhaps even more so. He loves Rook more than anything in the world, he dreads the time when they will be separated, he dreads how he would go on without them, how he would mourn them for eternity... though now he has all the power and knowledge and time of the lich. He may be able to find a way - even if it is an abuse of the responsibility of his new position. He is blinded by love, even in a state that should transcend all things mortal.

Lich lords are not supposed to care about themselves, for they are meant to serve the Necropolis, to thwart any dangers outside of mortals' grasps, they are to guide and protect. A higher purpose, not of the flesh and the heart, but of wisdom and reason.

With all that in mind, with all the potential for abuse of power he is given, I cannot fathom how the lich lords could entrust such power to romanced Emmrich - or anyone else, for that matter, who is unwilling to sever their ties with the mortal world once and for all. For me, there should be no doubt that to ascend as a lich, one must shed all mortal ties, whatever they may be - and that includes love.

Emmrich's obligatory tax.

[seventeenficsformalereader]

Wonwoo NSFW ABC's

REMINDER THAT ALL OF THIS IS FICTION! NONE OF THIS IS REAL OR REPRESENT THE REAL PERSON IN ANY WAYS WHATSOEVER‼️

Aftercare - How and how much

Wonwoo seems like a very caring type. He would gently clean up everything and maybe even change the sheets if you were too messy. Will give you cuddles afterwards, no questions asked.

Body parts - Fav body part on himself and his partner

Wonwoo likes his hands the most. He loves making you moan and cum with only his hands. Just watching your face as he fingers your hole is enough to make him reach his high, too

On your body, he loves your stomach area. Whether you're chubby, skinny, you have marks or anything like that, he absolutely adores your stomach area. It's also his favorite place to leave hickeys on.

Cum - Where, How, etc.

Like I said, Wonwoo loves your stomach area. That's why he usually likes to pull out and cum on your stomach. He might sometimes also finish inside of you if you ask him to.

Dirty Secret

Wonwoo once secretly took a video of him fucking you from behind and he keeps it in his phone buried so deep inside his gallery that no one could find it. He watches it sometimes to get himself off.

Experience

Wonwoo is the quiet guy, so I think back in high school he didn't get that much action. He probably had your first time with you and he was really nervous. Like REALLY nervous. But he wanted to make you feel good. And he did.

Favorite Position

Wonwoo loves missionary position the most. Mostly because it's easier to cum on your stomach, but also because he can look at your face as he pleasures you. There's nothing better than having your legs spread wide and on his shoulders as he rails into you at an animalistic pace.

Goofy - How serious or goofy is he during sex

Wonwoo is really serious during sex. It's a pretty new concept for him and he holds it as a important thing in his life. That's why he barely teases or jokes during it. He also might get embarrassed talking about it afterwards.

Hair - How groomed is he

Wonwoo doesn't bother shaving down there, but he does it occasionally. He just doesn't see the point since he's not the one who loves recieving oral so much. He would prefer you to keep it pretty clean down there though, because he likes to suck you more.

Intimacy - Is he romantic or rough, etc.

Wonwoo is a bit of both. If he's at a time in his life where he's not stressed, he can be really romantic and pleasure you in every way possible so gently that it makes you cry. But if he's stressed out or has a lot of pent up anger in him, he can and will take it out on you (only if you allow him to, which you usually do. You can't say no to rough sex once in a while)

Jack off - How often does he do so

Wonwoo didn't jerk off before he started dating you. He just didn't see the appeal of it. But after his first time with you, he realized that he probably needs go do it once in a while. He just sometimes can't keep his thoughts away from you and your body and can't help but get hard at the thought of it. Usually just jerks off while looking at the secret video he has of you or just looks at your nudes or just pictures of you.

Kink - What kinks does he have

Wonwoo isn't a super kinky guy, but he might have a few.

Wonwoo seems like the type of guy to like breath play. Something about restricting you from breathing occasionally by wrapping a hand around your neck while he fucks you deeply is what makes him want to continue even more. And the noises you make are so lovely, he wants to hear those more. He loves to hit all the right spots to make the most sounds out of you.

Location - Favorite place

Wonwoo prefers the bed. In his own bedroom. That's where he feels like he won't be interrupted and be embarrassed with someone catching him and his partner in the act.

Motivation - Turn ons

Again, Wonwoo loves the sounds you make. You sound so pretty maoning his name under him. And covering you in his cum is just a must every time. When he sees your body glistening under the dim lights of his room because of his cum, it makes him want to go for another round always.

No - Turn offs or things he wouldn't do or be into

He wouldn't like leaving the bedroom. Having sex anywhere else where someone might catch you is a no go for him. He's a pretty jealous guy when he's with you, and wouldn't want anyone else seeing your body the way he does. Sometimes he joins you in the shower, but only if he's sure that absolutely no one else can get in when you aren't wearing any clothes.

Oral - preferences on it

Wonwoo loves to give you head. He isn't a fan of recieving it.

Pace - How fast or rough during sex

Like I said before, Wonwoo can be slow and gentle, but he can also be very rough and merciless with you. It depends on his mood, and if you are willing to let him be rough. But even when he is rough, he's still constantly checking up on you. If he goes too fast that makes you cry out, he immediately stops and asks if you are okay. Once you reassure him that you're okay, he continues with his fast pace.

Quickie - His thoughts on quickies

Wonwoo prefers to take his time with you, and he usually isn't THAT needy, but if you are, he understands and takes you to a secluded area where there's a little to none chance that someone catches you. He's willing to move out of his comfort zone and fuck you in semi public if you are too needy

Risk - How risky is he

Like mentioned, he doesn't like having sex in public. He prefers his own bedroom or someplace else where no one can catch you.

Stamina - How long can he last, How many rounds

Wonwoo is used to dancing for many hours so he has a pretty good stamina. He can go for rounds, making you cum many times in the process and watching your body get covered in cum.

Toys - Use or Own any

Wonwoo doesn't like to use toys since he wants you all to himself. Except might put an anal plug on you sometimes just to remind you who you belong to.

Unfair - How much does he tease

Wonwoo is a very serious guy. He doesn't tease you a lot, but he might show his weird side for you sometimes, maybe during sex but also just because he can.

Volume - Volume during sex

Wonwoo might let out a few moans if he's close or if he goes many rounds. But usually just gets embarrassed and tries to keep his voice more quiet to hear you better.

Wild card

Wonwoo absolutely loves you riding him. Sometimes he's horny but too lazy to do anything so he makes you do all the work and let you ride him until your legs give out.

He's also pretty freaky with hickeys. Especially on your stomach area. He loves to leave hickeys there so he knows you are his even when no one else sees it. Bonus if you wear a a shirt that exposes your stomach and the hickeys are visible for everyone. He secretly enjoys it.

X-ray - Lenght, Girth, Curve

Wonwoo is a quiet kid. Need I say more? Everything about this man is so big dick energy and he definitely has one.

Yearning - Sex drive, horniness

Wonwoo has a high sex drive. When he's alone with you even for a bit, he will not keep his hands off of you. Whether it's giving you hickeys, touching your thighs, pushing his fingers inside you, grinding against you, or making you ride him.

Zzz - How fast does he fall asleep

Wonwoo is pretty sleepy after being satisfied. He cleans up the mess and falls asleep almost immediately once he has you in his arms.