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elleetlalune · 19 days ago

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MR.LOVER ...lhs (drabble)

→Novella: your sweet boyfriend decides to surprise you for your birthday, little did you know that this surprise would soon turn out to be a pretty hot one.

warnings: kinda kinky, overstimulation, pussy drunk hee, cum eating, oral(f rec.),mating press, unprotected sex (LORD HAVE MERCY), dirty talk, dacryphilia, breeding kink, petnames.

A/N: I can't lie i've been so busy with school, i pooped this out of my ass so sorry if it's shit (get it because it came out of my ass)

"Baby.." You whined for the nth time, your boyfriend insisted on keeping your eyes closed while he guided you to your surprise.

He had insisted that you wear the prettiest dress you had, and put on your favourite jewlery, and when he opened the door to his apartment he was just as perfectly dressed as you.

"Soon, princess." He simply chuckled, you had been bumping into all the walls of your apartment yet you still hadn't reached the long-awaited moment he had been so excited for.

"Okay, on the count of three.." He announced finally stopping in what felt like the living room.

"One."

"Two.

"Three."

"Open!"

You opened your eyes, only to be greeted by a beautiful baby blue and white ganache cake, decorated just the way you wanted with all your favorite things, next to it was a little gift bag with a black bow adorning it.

"Hee..This is..perfect." You looked up at him smiling, you heart swelling with love, "I'm glad you like it, you deserve the world, my princess" The little petname always made your cheek heat up faster or your stomach do somersaults but this time it felt..different?

"No I'm serious, thank you. I don't know what I did to deserve you." The words left your mouth so easily, reaching Heeseung's heart instantly the way you wanted.

"You are you, that's what you did."

You both sat down, looking at his gift but his gaze was heavy on you.

You tried ignoring it but it felt almost impossible when it felt like he could see through your skin and bones. He shifted slightly his hand resting on your upper thigh.

"Baby.." his word almost came out as a whimper, making you shiver." Would you let me taste you before we taste the cake?" he said as if your heart didn't just shoot out of it's place.

"W-what are you saying?" You stuttered out trying to look away from him, but his fingers quickly came, holding your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Answer me." Dry. You swallowed the lump you felt was forming in your throat and nodded.

"With words." He spoke again, his gaze fixated on your lips.

"I want you to taste me." Blush crept up on your cheeks from embarassement, good for you, your boyfriend couldn't care less and as if that had activated something in him, the once sweet look on his face shifted completly to the look of pure and raw desire.

He didn't wait to be told twice, he carried you to the bedroom, a surprised yelp leaving your mouth as he dropped you on the bed.

His hands worked in perfect harmony to tear the dress off of your body, a low groan escaping his lips once he realized you weren't wearing any bra under it, considering the dress had an built-in one.

"Fuck.." the curse only made you more aroused and your panties more wet.

Sloppy kisses were planted all over your body, his teeth grazing you collarbone and neck, then soothing it with his tongue.

His hand were busy on your plump breasts, purposefully leaving your needy pussy out.

"Baby.."You squirmed as his index finger brushed against your puffy clit, "Needy much?" Heeseung teased, his trademark smirk never leaving his face.

You clenched around nothing, hoping for some kind of relief yet there was none. "Please, I need you." You were practically begging him to fuck you, but he didn't comply just teasing your entrance with his long slender fingers.

"Such a pretty pussy..Can't believe it's all mine." He groaned, you could tell he was torturing himself too for the sake of making you suffer.

"Heeseung.."You cried out, it felt so maddening to have his finger so close to your throbbing core but never in it, tears started going down your face.

He looked up, only to see you crying of frustration. His behavior did a full 360, as If he couldn't hold it in, he dipped his head between your legs lapping at your drenched folds.

"Shit!" a loud moan escaped from you at his unexpected attitude, you were grinding your pussy in his face as his tongue plunged in and out of your pink hole.

"Mmm..tastes so fucking sweet." His movement were never slowing down, your cries only intensifying, and only turning him on even more.

His perfect button nose hit your clit repetedly by each lick, making you see stars everytime, it felt like a sin but a dream at the same time.

"Fuck Hee..I'm..I'm close." You whimpered out, not botherind to hold your moans in anymore. His tongue was licking every single drop that was coming out of you, like he had been starving before this.

Just as you were about to cum, he stopped.

You were back to clenching around nothing, whining wanting him back in your sweet pussy.

"Be patient, princess, want you to cum on my cock." He stroke your cheek before unbuckling his pants and letting them fall to the ground along his boxers, his cock springing free and slapping against his abdomen.

He slowly stroked himself, small groans and moans leaving his mouth as he watched your pussy clench and drip.

"Put it in." you mewled spreading your legs wider, as he rubbed his red tip against your entrance."Gonna claim you, you're all mine.."He moaned before he thrusted completly in you, filling you to the rim, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust.

"Heeseung!" You cried out as he pressed your thighs against your chest, slamming deep in you every single time.

"My baby..All fucking mine to fuck.." He thrusts, this time faster and stronger, indicating he was getting closer. "This pussy was made for me.."

"I-I'm..please..no.." No correct sentence would come out from the intense pleasure that made your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Do it, cum on my cock..wanna feel you" He messily kissed you swallowing your moans and cries as you fell apart on him drenching him in the process.

His head fell backwards every time, sweat covered both of your bodies, his bangs clinging to his forehead.

"I'm gonna.." He panted breathily, "I'm cumming inside, I'll make you mine.." His thrusts grew in speed as his hips slapped against yours, one last sultry moan before his thick white ropes of cum painted your walls.

He pulled out, putting back anything that spilled, leaning over next to you on the bed, his bigger hands wrapping protectively around your naked waist.

"I love you, yn" He said, nuzzling his face in your neck.

"I love you too."

#elleetlalune #enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #heeseung smut #heeseung scenarios #heeseung x yn #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung drabbles #enhypen drabbles #smut #enhypen x reader #heeseung #lee heeseung

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aetherraeys · 2 months ago

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visual learner

poly!marauder x inexperienced!reader ⊹ 5.1k

for this request!

cw ⟢ suggestive, first kisses, nervous!reader, tension, teasing, slightly domestic, newly established relationship, lots of kissing!

being a late-bloomer was never really an issue for you, until you're faced with figuring out how to go about kissing not just one boy, but three.

a/n: yes this is 5000 words of kissing and what? not proofread

If you were to think back, it honestly never bothered you much, you’d come to terms with it quite well—you were a late bloomer.

Sure, it meant that you didn’t have the exact same experiences as most of your peers when growing up, making those late nights in the dorms when the voices of all your friends danced around the room, feet kicking giddily as they shared which boy they’d gone to Hogsmead with that weekend. Or when they detailed the innocent lingering touches and fleeting eye contact they’d made with their crush—in person demonstrations and all. Of course, those nights were fun, playful girls nights, but it more listening than reenacting for you.

Even as you progressed further, graduating and starting univerisity, it didn’t bug you like your friends had assumed it would—’it’ being your lack of experience.

And it wasn’t that you were undesirable, far from it, opportunity isn’t an issue—you just weren’t in a rush. It also didn’t make you any more eager to speed things along after hearing countless disappointing and awkward recounts of your friends experiences.

Quite frankly, it just wasn’t the be-all and end-all of your youth, you had plenty of other things to worry about, plenty of other things that kept your mind comfortably occupied. And you were still young, there was still time for you to play catch-up, if and when you decided you wanted to.

The thing is, you were under the impression had a say in it in the first place—when in reality, the universe had other plans for you.

And those plans?

As it turned out, took form in the shape of three boys.

You’d thought they were a bit strange at orientation, their dynamic an interesting sight to say the least. But it wasn’t very long before you were sucked into their orbit, well and truly in the thick of it—completely out of your depth.

Because you’d yet to have a boyfriend, let alone three, but alas—you found yourself unable to deny them.

Falling into place with them relatively seemlessly, although the boys had been dating long before you came into the picture and have known each other longer, that wasn’t why you kept finding yourself picking at the skin around your nails, knawing at the flesh on the inside of your mouth, frequently lost in deep thought.

Granted, most of this was fairly new.

Welcomed, wanted, loved—you should be perfectly content right now, but there was small looming inkling of something in the back of your mind every time you saw them.

They were so comfortable together, in complete and almost constant harmony with each other—and it was a sight to behold, perfect and cozy as they lounged around Sirius’ thankfully large flat.

Both him and James lying on one end of the settee, tangled together in an obsure pile of limbs. Sirius had his hands underneath James’ shirt—baring the bottom of his stomach and pretty brown happy trail out in the open, fingers tracing soft and small patterns onto his skin. James’ hand carding and threading through his curls while mindlessly scrolling on his phone, occassional content hums leaving his mouth. Remus—he was sat on the floor resting his back against the sofa, pressed against James’ leg, head leaning on his knee, book in hand.

The epitome of domesticity.

All so very intune with each other, and then there was you.

Sat at the other end of the couch, just over an arms length away from them, scrunched into the corner covered in a blanket—trying to reach the word count for a project and failing miserably to focus on the screen in front of you.

It’s simple, you could go, scoot over and join them in their comfortable bliss, but it seemed just that bit too hard—where would you start?

Until now you never considered being inexperienced a bad thing, but you couldn’t help but wonder how if just a bit of knowhow would’ve make you less shy to join.

Navigating the mass of bodies should really be at the bottom of your to-do list, so taking a deep breath, you force your attention to the painstakingly boring work on your lap, once again starting to type. You’d built up a good rhythm, the words flowing easier as the time went by, and even though your legs had gone numb a while ago, it seemed like a good idea to ride the wave of concentration while you still had it.

So much so that you didn’t notice the shuffling sounds of movement going on a meer meter away. James had made his way up and off the couch, padding into the kitchen, switching on the radio upon entry—a telltale sign he’d about to start cooking.

The space James had left on couch was still hot from his residual heat when, on cue, Sirius reach his hand over to Remus’ shoulder, pouting dramatically, patting the still-warm space on the couch. “You’re not coming up?”

Remus, his neck tilted back slightly to look at Sirius, exhaled through his nose. He hesitated for half a second before shifting to stand. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he muttered, pushing himself up.

As he moved past you, his fingertips brushed against your leg—so lightly, so fleetingly that you barely registered the touch, too engrossed in your project to notice. If you had noticed, you might’ve seen the way he glanced at you, how his gaze lingered for just a beat longer than necessary.

By the time he plopped down onto the couch, Sirius wasted no time crawling onto him, sprawling across his lap like a cat seeking warmth. Remus just huffed out a light chuckle as Sirius melted against him, pressing his face into his shoulder and humming contentedly. Instinctively, Remus’ hand came up to his hair, fingers tangling in soft curls, stroking without thought.

But even as he did, his eyes flickered back to you—quick, searching glances that went unnoticed. He can imagine it to be overwhelming, entering an already established relationship—still so many things unspoken, still so much to learn. And Remus ever the watcher, had noticed how your little habits—your tendencies to take up as little space as possible, shrinking slightly under the pressure of intimacy.

It’s not that you’re afraid of it—affection, intimacy—it was that you were just genuinely clueless, there’s not exactly a manual on how to do all; something that they already do so well, so intuitively between themselves.

It made you nervous is all, unable to imagine how awkward it would be if you’d done the wrong thing, put yourself in the wrong place—the room for mistakes seemed endless.

Still, Remus wasn’t going to push, or pry. Not until he was sure, sure that the way your fingers twitch by your side was with the desire to join, sure that your not so discrete hesitant glances were of a longing nature.

All his thoughts were about you, that was until Sirius distracted him in the best way he knew how.

Soft, light kisses pressed against his collarbone, trailing up to his neck, his jaw. His lips warm delicately working his way up until he was scattering pecks across Remus’ face—his nose, the tops of his freckled cheekbones, his temple—Remus was still slightly spying on you despite Sirius’ playful assault.

And, of course just moments before this your concentration had finally faltered, the smell of whatever James was cooking breaking your focus ever so slightly.

His eyes flicked toward where you sat—shoulders hunched ever so slightly forward, brows furrowed in that way they always did when you were deep in concentration. He wondered if you even realized the way you bit at your lip, the way your fingers twitched ever so slightly like they wanted to fidget, to reach out.

Sirius barely registered the amused hum from him before the next kiss landed, this time firmer against the corner of his mouth. Then another—this one lingering, coaxing, before Sirius finally pressed their lips together properly, letting it stretch just long enough for Remus to forget what he was doing.

You blinked, taking in the scene, your eyes widening slightly before flitting away, your fingers pausing over your keyboard. Lips pursing together slightly before your teeth peaked out and took hold of the corner of your mouth.

Sirius felt the way the corners of Remus’ lips spread into a smirk before he pulled away from him, just long enough to whispered to him, breath tickling the shell of his ear, “Watch her,”

Pulling them both onto their side, stealing small looks in your direction as he kissed Remus again—this time deeper, more obnoxious, more deliberate—sighs and hums of contentment bouncing between them.

Naturally, your eyes drifted to the source of the noise, body stilling as though unsure whether to look away or keep watching.

They found it quite cute, the way you eyes darted around the room frantically, trying hard to not stare despite being helplessly drawn to look at the cause of sounds. Teeth mercilessly taking refuge in your cheek, forcing your lips in to a pout that bordered bashful.

Curious thing, you were.

Satisfied with the effect, he exhaled a quiet laugh against Sirius’ lips and decided to stop tormenting you—for now. With a final squeeze to Sirius’ waist, Remus stood, making his way over towering tall over you and, without hesitation, shut your laptop with a soft click.

Whipping your head to find him, brows arched up, a light smirk twitching at his lips as he looked down at you—gaze so intense you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at whatever was causing the sofa to dip beside you.

Only breaking when you felt his hot breath skim along the edge of your earlobe—spine immediately becoming taut, skin prickling down the back of your neck. Sirius was so close and you didn’t need to look at him to know he had a mischievous smirk playing on his lips—“I think you’ve worked hard enough, sweetheart.”

You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of the warmth radiating from them both, of the weight of their gazes—teasing, expectant, knowing. You weren’t completely unfamilar with their touch, James loved to press obnoxious wet kisses on your cheeks. Remus was also very well versed in the language of forehead kisses and hand holding—Sirius had even gone as far to occassionally sneak dangerous little pecks onto the thin skin behind your ear when you cuddled.

Alert, and flickering panicked looks between them, the tips of your ears felt hot as you stammered out the words, “uh—everything okay?”

Your hands were in your lap clasped together tightly—thumb unconsciously picking at the skin around your nails when Sirius came impossibly closer to you, a small huffed chuckle leaving as he neared. Fingertips brushing a few stray hairs behind your ears, voice low and smooth— “Mmmm, everything’s fine—Moony’s just got a question,”

He could feel the slight shudder that ran through your body, gaze shifting to Remus, hands stuffed into his pockets, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he leaned down over you—very clearly entertained by your reactions. His eyes darted around your face, scanning, observing your wide-eyed expression, how you sunk into the soft cushion, trying to put space between you.

The corner of his lips quirked up into a crooked smile, tilting his head as he asked;

“Would you like one?”

The warmth of Sirius’ fingertips trailing light ghostly touches down the side of your neck was so distracting, making your mouth painfully dry, air catching in your throat as your opened and closed your lips repeatedly. Wracking your brain for a response, words, anything—but it felt annoyingly blank, sucking in a shaky breath, your words came out pinched and meek—breathy on the exhale.

Sirius snickered under his breath, barely containing his delight at your reaction, and Remus exhaled a soft chuckle of his own.

“One what?”

Even if you tried to push yourself any further into the couch, practically willing yourself to become one with the fabric—anything to escape this awful flipping feeling at the pits of your stomach—you couldn’t. And it only got worse when Remus leaned in further, precariously close, the tip of his nose just barely grazing the skin of your cheekbones, Sirius could see the way your shoulders inched up and up, closer to your ears as your virtually shrunk into yourself.

Remus’ voice was rough and teasing, making the heat that resided in the tips of your ear spread invasively under the skin of your cheeks. “I saw you—it’s okay to be curious, my love, ” He took his hands from his pockets and brought one to the arm of the sofa, the other resting on the ball of Sirius’ knee, that was flush against yours. He leaned back as he continued, capturing your gaze, “You don’t have to be so shy about it.”

His words were low, steady, laced with that quiet knowing that made your stomach tighten. He was close—too close, and Sirius wasn’t any better, his fingertips still ghosting along your jaw, trailing up toward your ear, his shoulders brushing against yours.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe properly, heat blooming in your chest—radiating outwards, the close proximity, it all just had your head feeling rattled. “I—” You started, but the words immediately died in your throat, and Sirius huffed dramatically, shifting even nearer.

“C’mon, love, we won’t bite.” His breath was warm against your skin. “Unless you want us to.”

Your inhale was sharp, and Sirius grinned, practically preening at your reaction.

But Remus—Remus remained still, observing, reading for any flicker of hesitation, every small tell you didn’t even realize you were giving away. He tilted his head slightly, watching the way your hands curled into your lap, the way your breath hitched when Sirius’ fingers traced your pulse.

And then, his voice dropped even lower, softer—”So would you like one?” The back of his fingers came lightly over the curve of your jaw, lips brushing the bottom of your earlobes when he finally whispered,

“A kiss.”

Your stomach flipped violently, breath hitching and as a light shudder passed over your body—Remus must have noticed, because he smiled—soft and knowing, tilting his head slightly, giving you space, waiting. He wasn’t pushing, wasn’t demanding—just offering.

And somehow, that was even more overwhelming.

Lips parted slightly, words failing you completely, barely forcing out the start of a sentence, “B—” When his voice rang just behind you, dripping with amusement; “Have I walked into an ambush?” You hadn’t even noticed James entering the room.

But that was exactly how you felt, ambushed—trapped like a lamb in the midst of a group of lions, chest skipping out of its rhythmic rise and fall when James’ hand slid gently over your shoulder, your lips were still parted, holding the remains of your unfinished sentence. Sirius spoke, turning his head to look at James, smirk taking on a wolfish quality—”Just seeing if our girl would like a kiss,” As the last word left his lips, he was facing you again, head tilting to fit into the dip of your neck, lips almost gliding over the skin.

No where to run, the combined weight of their gaze made you awfully aware of your racing heartbeat, sounding loud between your ears, riccocheting off the empty space in your brain—only able to blink-up at Remus, mouth agape.

Sirius made an amused little noise in the back of his throat. “She’s thinking too hard again,” he murmured, his fingertips moving from their place on your collarbone, to travel down the curve of your skin—fighting every urge in your body to not arch away from his touch. His palm stopped and rest in the small of your back, hot and anchoring.

“Darling, it’s a yes or no question.” The words were still soft, still pressure-less, leaving you all the room in the world to stop this.

Your fingers twitched slightly, curling into the fabric of your sweater, throat suddenly unbearably dry—still completely entrapped under Remus’ watchful eye.

“I’ve never—” You swallowed. “I don’t know how.”

It was more breath than words, was barely a whisper, almost inaudible, but they all heard it.

Sirius exhaled sharply through his nose, amused, James’ palm soothed comfortingly over you shoulder, while Remus’ smile softened further, something impossibly tender flashing across his face.

“That’s alright,” he murmured, voice quiet, patient. His hand lifted slightly, fingers hovering near your cheek but barely touching, waiting for any sign, any indication from you. “I could show you.”

Sirius hummed lightly beside you, clearly pleased with where this was going. “Mmm, yeah, Moons is an excellent teacher.”

Your gaze flickered between them, caught between the heat of Sirius’ mischief and the warmth of Remus’ patience, the quiet promise in his eyes.

Your heart was pounding.

Opening your mouth, but nothing came out, your throat tight—only able to nod shyly. Sirius took pity on you, grinning as he shifted back and patted his lap invitingly.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” he purred. “Front row seat for the lesson.”

You blinked at him, completely dumbfounded,

“What?”

Remus, ever patient, gave Sirius a look, but there was amusement there, too. “We’ll give you a demonstration.”

Sirius patted his thigh again, eyes glinting with mischief. “Come on, love, don’t be shy.”

You hesitated for a long moment, but Sirius just raised an eyebrow, waiting expectantly, his fingers tapping against his leg. James had already made his way around the sofa, and looked just entirely too pleased at the idea.

Eventually, you sighed, heat creeping along the back of your neck as you shuffled over, hesitantly perching yourself on Sirius’ lap. His arms immediately wound around your waist, back flush against his chest, keeping you snug against him as he leaned in, breath tickling your ear.

Remus huffed out a quiet laugh, already reaching for James' collar, tugging him forward until their lips met in an easy, practiced rhythm. Practically melting into each others touch.

It was undemanding, natural. And unconsciously, your eyes darted away from the scene, flickering down onto your hands that still endlessly fiddled with the hem of your sleeve. But, against your luck, Sirius caught you.

“No no no, keep looking,” His voice was gentle, no traces of reprimand, he could feel stiff you were—breath shallow, shoulders tense. Pulling you in further against him, hand moving from your waist to settle on the round of your thighs—thumb stroking in a soothing pattern. Along with the way his voice rumbled of his voice in chest against your back and the velvety hum of his words, “Relax, love,” purged some of the nervous tension that had settled in your bones away.

It wasn’t just that they were kissing—it was how. The effortless way James’ hands slid into Remus’ hair, the way Remus exhaled softly into it, melting just a bit. The way their noses brushed, the way Remus tilted his head slightly to deepen it, slow and unhurried, languid in a way that sent something strange and warm curling in your stomach.

It was so fluid, second-nature.

James made a quiet noise in the back of his throat when Remus bit at his bottom lip, and Sirius hummed behind you.

“See that?” he murmured against your ear. “Slow, but firm. It’s not a race, love. It’s about feeling it, letting it happen.”

Your breath was shallow, completely entranced, and James—who had definitely caught the way your fingers curled against Sirius’ hands your thighs—broke the kiss just long enough to grin at you.

“You taking notes, sweetheart?”

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out.

Sirius chuckled, chin propped on your shoulder. “Don’t worry, Prongs, I think she’s getting the idea.”

Your entire body was on fire.

And he could feel it, the heat radiating off your body against his, trying not fidget in his lap, and he didn’t help your case. Opting to torture you more with his low teasing cadance and lips dangerously close to your pulse, whispering; “Think you’re ready to try?”

You swallowed thickly, pulse hammering in your throat. Ready to try? That was the question, wasn’t it?

Because in theory, you knew what kissing was supposed to be. You’d seen it a thousand times—in movies, in books, in passing glances stolen between strangers. But knowing wasn’t feeling, and feeling was something else entirely.

Especially when three sets of eyes were locked onto you, waiting.

You wet your lips unconsciously, and Sirius made a pleased little sound behind you, his hands settling more firmly, squeezing lightly against your thighs. “That’s a good start,” he murmured. “Mmm, maybe she’s a natural, Moons.”

You exhaled sharply, tilting your head slightly to catch Remus’ expression. He was still watching you, his gaze steady, unreadable. You searched for impatience there, for amusement, for any sign of frustration—but there was none. Only quiet, open curiosity, waiting for you to make the call.

Inhaling deeply though your nose, a light wave of hesitance flickering through you.

“I…” You trailed off, glancing over at James, who had since leaned back against the couch, all easy confidence, his head tilting slightly to the side. “With…who?”

The second the words left your mouth, Sirius laughed, delighted.

“Oh, love,” he purred, adjusting his wide legged position even wider, causing your hips to fall further into his middle—sinking into his touch. “That’s the best part.”

James smirked at that, hazel eyes flashing. “Mmm, guess it’s only fair we let you pick,” he mused. “We wouldn’t want to overwhelm you.”

Liar.

You didn’t believe that for a second, not when Sirius was grinning like the cat that got the cream, and certainly not when Remus had the nerve to sit beside James, looking at you like he was already in your head, reading your thoughts before you could even think them.

Your heart was racing so fast you were surprised they couldn’t hear it.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to—you did. But what if you messed it up? What if you got the angle wrong, or forgot to breathe, or—

“Darling.” Remus’ voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, quiet but firm. You snapped your gaze to him automatically, fingers twitching, picking at the jean fabric of by Sirius’ hands. “There’s nothing to get wrong.”

You barely had time to react before he leaned in—slow, deliberate—just close enough that the warmth of him made your breath stutter.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured.

You hesitated, but after a beat, you did.

The next thing you felt was the feather-light brush of his lips against your cheek—not quite a kiss, not really, just the barest ghost of contact. Lips parting, letting a shallow hitching breath pass.

“There,” he murmured. “Easy, isn’t it?”

His lips brushed another kiss over the curve of your jaw, still unbearably gentle, giving you time, giving you space. You inhale shakily, body still burning against Sirius, Remus just hummed, trailing the kisses just slightly lower. There was barely any time for you to respond before he finally—finally—pressed his lips against yours

It was so much softer than you’d expected, warm and welcoming. Not demanding, not urgent—just there, patient, waiting for you to catch up.

Your stomach flipped, and Sirius hummed his approval against your ear, his hands rubbing absent, slow circles into your sides. James, let out a quiet exhale, watching intently from beside Remus—hands twitching almost in efforts to stay put.

Trying your best to stay out of your head, focus on the kiss but not too hard, pace yourself, enjoy the moment—your hands curling into themselves at your sides. But when Remus hummed, a small pleased sound into the kiss, the tension building in you slipped away. Further and further into the back of your mind.

He kissed you like it was the easiest thing in the world, like he wanted to be kissing you, and your brain was getting more mushy as the contact continued. Your hands twitched again, and this time, you actually moved, leaning slightly into the kiss—one of them hesitantly lifting to rest against the front of his shirt.

Sirius, sensing the change immediately, grinned, chin still propped on your shoulder.

“That’s it, sweetheart.”

James hummed in agreement, eyes dark with interest. “Looks like she’s a fast learner.”

Remus, still entirely too composed, simply smiled into the kiss, his hands finally moving to cradle your jaw, holding you there as he deepened it just slightly.

By the time he pulled back, you were breathless, cheeks flushed—lips wet and reddened.

James, evidently unable to contain himself, turned your chin slightly toward him, eyes practically shining with mischief.

“My turn.”

His lips were on yours, and if Remus was patient and careful, James was the opposite.

Kissing you like he was playing—feverish and teasing, like he knew exactly how new it was for you, how you were still unsure, and he was more than content in exploring.

Initially he let you take the lead, barely pressing into you, lips moving slowly, teasingly, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against your jaw as if coaxing you forward. But as he leaned further into you, hands planting themselves firmly on your thighs—parting his lips against yours.

You were vaguely aware of the sound of Sirius humming in approval somewhere behind you, his fingers tightening just slightly on your waist as James’ tongue flicked playfully against your bottom lip. Your breath caught in your throat, and he grinned against your mouth, clearly pleased with your reaction.

James littered more kisses onto your skin, starting at the corner of your mouth, down your jaw, bringing the exposed skin of your collarbone gently between his lips—nipping and sucking softly. Earning him a breathy whimper, exhaling “Jamie,” as you craned your neck into him more, hands jumping to find purchase on his arms.

Remus’ hand inched up James’ spine, almost as a reminder that said, don’t be greedy. Withdrawing, he allowed the other a better look at your expression—half lidded, satified hums leaving your still kiss-flushed lips, unbareably pretty.

Sirius let out a low, appreciative whistle behind you, a low “Damn,” passing into the air, breath skimming over the back of your neck.

“Ready for round two?”

You hadn’t had time to come back down into the room fully before Sirius’ hands came down to your hips—the words barely proccessing in your mind as you spun on his lap. Positioning you so your legs split across his thighs. His hands settled on your waist, warm and steady, fingers splayed just under the hem of your shirt, grounding you.

Sirius was still watching you, that signature smirk playing at his lips, but there was something softer in his expression now—something reassuring, like he was making sure you weren’t too overwhelmed.

But how could you not be?

You could still feel the lingering warmth of Remus’ kiss on your lips, still taste James’ breath against yours. And now planted on Sirius’ lap, he was moving closer, eyes flicking over your face, searching for hesitation.

You didn’t even realize you’d clenched your hands into nervous fists until Sirius made a small noise of amusement and pried one open, lacing his fingers through yours. “Breath, sweetheart,” he murmured, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your knuckles. “You’re in good hands.”

Unlike Remus’ patience or James’ teasing, Sirius kissed you like he was yearning.

its like a torch had been lit, your body was set even further ablaze when Sirius pressed his lips firmly against yours, immediately tightening his hold on your waist. Pads of his fingers grasping almost desperately onto the flesh trying to pull you closer than you already were—shifting his hips upwards into you. Your voice trembled in your throat, failing to make it to your lips as muffled moan threatened to leave you. Hands coming up to his neck, fingers threading and tugging at the hair at the base of his neck.

“Fucking hell, you two,” sounded from beside you, but it felt so far away, dulled by the thumping echo of your pulse in your ears and the soft hums and mewls leaving the both of you.

He kissed like he meant it, like he wanted you to feel all of it, tongue just barely teasing against the seam of your lips, making you gasp out a whine. He took full advantage of the sound, his hands squeezing at your curve of your hips before he pulled back just enough to grin against your mouth.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

The words sent a sharp jolt of heat down your spine, it had you arching into him against you will, rocking involuntarily into him, and Sirius let out a delighted little laugh. Head falling into the crook of his neck, slightly embarrassed by the reactions he so easily compelled from you.

“Ohh, Pads,” James drawled, chin resting on his shoulder, breath warm against his ear. “You’re gonna break her.”

Sirius hummed, utterly unbothered. “Dunno, Jamie—” his lips ghosted against your neck again, just barely touching, a tease, “—she seems to be holding up just fine.”

You weren’t.

Your thoughts were scrambled, body thrumming, your hands clutching onto Sirius as if he were the only thing tethering you to the earth.

And when you brought your head out of its hiding spot, Remus’ could barely contain the laugh that bubbled in his chest, musing with a tilting his head. “Mmm, think she likes it.” Your parted lips, chest heaving trying to catch your breath—pupils blown and hazy expression Remus was more than convinced you liked it.

Sirius, still curled up comfortably beneath you, pressed a lazy, open-mouthed kiss to your collarbone. “Yeah, sweetheart?” His voice was teasing, syrupy sweet, lips dragging up to your jaw, inching up to the corners of your mouth—almost kisses—then trailing back away. And you could only melt into them, breathless and dizzy and completely, utterly lost in it all.

“Should we stop, or do you wanna keep learning?”

this is my first time writing poly! so pls be kind x

part 2 - hands-on lesson!

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seraphdreams · 11 months ago

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GOT MILK? | TOJI FUSHIGURO.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. what happens when you invite an unexpected guest into your home? lucky for you, this one cares about your health!

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. fem!reader / milkman!toji, smut, cliche porn trope, size kink, coercion, food play, a bit prey/predator dynamics, 1950s-esque setting, toji’s huge, unprotected “love-making”, mdni <3.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 3.3k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! it’s been a while, hasn’t it? i’m so so sorry i’ve been away from writing :( but trust me, we’re so back !! this is actually my first full length toji fic n i’m so excited 4 you all to read it . . i wanted to keep it light and cliche for all of our pleasure. this took me about two months to write on n off, but !! if you like this n enjoy it, please comment / reblog ! i’ll make you all a glass of seraph’s special milk, thank u ♡ a big shoutout 2 @gh4ul for beta reading ! i love u so muchie!!

fluorescent shimmers of the setting sun pierced through your living room window, beyond pastel curtains, and onto the curvature of your face as if the sun itself used you like its own canvas while you lounged upon the couch. soft murmurs of whichever television show you had fallen asleep watching hummed within the four thin walls of your flat, creating the perfect ambiance for a peaceful late afternoon nap.

it wasn’t as though you had done much during the day, aside from indulging in your boredom with the mundane baking of cookies, taking two batches to get right, alongside tidying your room.

although currently, you slept soundly in a way that came off as daunting to others; torso clad in a thin tank top paired with little pink shorts that could’ve been mistaken for underwear by any onlooker, with your hand rested just below your abdomen, chest rising and falling in the most harmonious synchronicity.

vulnerable, like prey unknowing of its predator.

fortunately, the neighborhood you resided in was safe. some sweet suburban city where everyone knew each other more than they knew themselves, and the thought of anything being remotely out of place sent residents into a frenzy. it was innocuous to assume that not much out of the ordinary took place. or that was the case, until —

knock, knock.

“delivery for y/n?”

stirring in your sleep, you prayed that the owner of the baritone voice that had woken you up was just some figment of your imagination, some effect of unintended lucid dreaming perhaps. yet, upon blinking open unfocused, bleary eyes, and the loud couplet of knocks on the door following soon after, you were pulled out of dreamland and into the vexing reality.

three more firm knocks paired with a gruff tone calling out flatly, “delivery,” was enough to have your body sashaying involuntarily to your front door.

whoever was outside was insinstently persistent. if they had thought to put even an ounce more strength into those compact knocks, your door would have been long gone by now.

“coming!” the dulcet tone of your voice was riddled with exhaustion and you were unsure if the sound had resonated with the stranger on the other end, your internal query being answered once the relentless abuse of your front door had ceased.

you had ignored the fabric of your meager top, not quite noticing the way the strap so slightly dropped from your shoulder, leaving such a beautiful expanse of skin exposed to, and for, anyone. swiftly, you had opened the door for your unexpected visitor.

there, stood some dark haired man, taller and bigger than any other man you’ve known in the neighborhood. he must have had to be over 6’0, with a stature so broad, chiseling muscles barely hidden underneath the thin fabric of his uniform. his white hat tilted upward, and as your eyes descended, you caught his matching suit worn just a bit too taut. it was as if the first two buttons of his shirt were hanging on for dear life to cover what massive mounds his chest was. not to mention, how his thighs were close to breaking free from their confines.

to the right of the struggling buttons, sat a little pin that read “toji.”

he didn’t put any effort into a friendly introduction, the only hint of expression you could trace was the furrowing of his brows at his forehead as he gave you an unreadable stare.

“was told to drop this off here.” toji spoke. he held out a small wired basket with two glass jars of white liquid, seeming to be milk. maybe it had been your fuzzy, half-awake mind, and what little thoughts were up there, but you couldn’t recall a time where you had placed an order for some strange fluid.

was it a thing the neighborhood would do every once in a while?

as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and gave the handsome stranger a soft pout, you spoke airily. “what’s in the jar, sir?”

his demeanor shifted into pure displeasure, not fancying the query your hollow brain came up with. it remained undoubtedly clear that he wasn’t the most amiable of folks.

“it’s milk, darling.”

“i didn’t order any milk, sorry.” that same pout remained on your lips as you shook your head for the milkman to end a seemingly quick conversation, but just as you were about to close the door back, the pressure of his strong hand against the wood made your attempt futile.

to your surprise, a miniscule smirk was evident on his scarred features. “no?” his narrowed eyes drank you in from the bottom up as if you were lemonade on a scorching summer’s day. those same eyes skillfully darting from the spill of your breasts in your little top, up to your pretty pursed lips and doe-like orbs.

anyone could tell from a mile away what type of girl you were — the type that toji devilishly enjoys.

it wasn’t often he was presented with a doll such as yourself. sure, he could pick the mind of others increasingly well, could tell just when someone was planning to set him up (like some sort of off-duty criminal) but with you, it was as though not a thought could be lodged behind vacant eyes. everything about you was pure, untainted.

he stepped closer toward you, his foot conveniently placed between the barrier between your home and the outside. “try it for yourself. it’s fresh, and organic.” as he spoke, the glint in his deep gray eyes had overturned into a sly darkness. and when you shook your head at his advance, he only scoffed, peering in closer until he fully stepped foot into your abode.

“oh, c’mon,” vexation laced his tone. “don’t make my job harder than it already is.”

his hauntingly large frame eclipsed yours, the sun casting a backlit shadow behind his silhouette, like something out of a 50’s horror film. at that moment, you were in no position to deny his simple request.

it was just milk, perhaps he wanted an honest review.

your eyes met his, and you swallowed thickly as you hoped that courage would fill the void in the pit of your stomach. “how much for a glass?” softly, your question floated in tense air. a smirk upticks on his face as he reaches into the basket, holding up the larger jar of the two settled in the basket.

“for you, it’s free of charge.”

maybe you should’ve questioned the insubstantial value, for nothing in this economy was truly ever free.

you take the bottle from him, popping open the lid and taking a sip. the unnerving feeling of greedy eyes caused goosebumps to form over your skin. the liquid certainly had a thicker texture to it, possibly an ode to its organic nature; and as you sipped and sipped, you failed to notice the drippage that rolled amply down the side of your mouth to your chest. toji, however, caught sight of it — because, of course he did.

after you had your sample size, you took a manicured thumb to glossy lips, wiping your bottom lip to collect the remnants before taking your tongue to your thumb to lick up the remains.

in that moment, you reminded him of a kitten, some meek animal vastly trusting of the others in its environment.

his smirk grew wider and he closed the door behind him as he stepped closer, now merely a few inches away from your figure. “oh, but miss,” his voice full with anything but a genuine concern for you, he traced his finger along the trail of milk that lingered at your chest. “you missed a spot.”

his sudden touch startled you in such a way that shifted your body to jolt once you felt his cool fingertips. that same motion forced you to completely forget about the open jar in your hand, accidentally spilling an even larger amount of milk all over yourself in the process.

drenched in the liquid, your top became practically see-through with only the sight of your pert nipples showing underneath. it's candy for the eye, toji’s at least.

“you gonna keep that on, princess? you’ll catch a cold.” his voice feigns concernment towards you, as if he pitied the pathetic state he put upon you. in that moment, sheepishness clouds your empty head, and if you could cower away, you would; but instead, you took him up on his suggestion, turning your back to him and doing away with the thin barrier.

“gimme a minute to change.” you shyly said as you looked back at him with a hand barely covering your chest.

how cute you were, so willing to invite a stranger into your home and even strip for him — were you always this welcoming?

before you could scuttle to your room, you felt a firm grip on your arm. toji, now clearly having fun with you, had given you a menacing smirk along with a tsk of his tongue. “you’re still all wet,” he turned you back around to face him in one swift motion. “let me clean you off.” his hand slowly trailed up your arm and to the swell of your breasts where he cupped one in his large, calloused palm. the feeling of his rough fingertips over your bare skin caused you to break out in a shudder. “s-sir, i don’t think..”

he shushed you the moment his thumb rolled over your hard nipple, milk still dripping down your skin. with one hand, he pulled you in tight by your waist, and with the other, he aided himself in wrapping his lips around your nipple. you could only describe his touch as hungry, rough as if the opportunity to take advantage of your vulnerability would slip away into thin air. he locked steel grey eyes with you as he did so. once he got his fill of toying with your sensitive mounds, he switched his sucking motions into little bites.

his deep groans and your soft whines filled the space instantaneously. he’d rotate from one breast to the other until he felt you growing weak in his hold, the squeeze of your thighs telling him everything he needed to know about your desire. and when he felt satisfied with the level at which he teased you, he unlatched.

it felt as if all air had rushed out of your system from the raspy whines you had let out during his ministrations. you took a moment to catch your breath and regain composure as he stood up tall to his original position.

oddly enough, comfortability grew within you, possibly the adrenaline of a handsome stranger feeding your mind with illicit thoughts. “am i all clean now?” your voice comes out shaky, feeble with lust, and as your eyes scanned his formidable appearance, down to the bulge that left his sheer size to anything but the imagination, you grew greedier.

“squeaky fucking clean.” his response comes off as a growl. “how about some real milk as a reward, sweetheart?”

you tilted your head, as a confused puppy would, looking up at him with spacey eyes. “real milk? i thought i was just drinking it?” he smiled at your perplexity, finding you too cute to let go. “that milk,” he pointed at the bottle you set on the counter beside you. “isn’t as organic as it claims. you need the real thing in ya.”

toji fumbles with his belt buckle, unfastening it until he could comfortably whip his cock out. you had never seen something so large, so girthy that it instilled a blend of fear and excitement within you. “on your knees, pretty thing.” he demanded. “gotta make sure my girl grows big and strong.”

you complied, obviously. when someone as sturdy as him tells you to do something, it’s only natural that you do it.

with your weight now rested on your knees, your job was easy. you wrapped a feeble hand around the base of his cock, mouth agape in bewilderment that he could barely fit in the cusp of your hand. toji let out a hiss under his breath once your hand began to diligently slide up and down his shaft. slick dribbled into the rapture of your enclosed fist from just how turned on he was. as you continued to teasingly pump him, your tongue darted to place gentle kitten licks paired with tender kisses to his angry tip. “you’re real confident now, aren’t ya?” he goads, though not necessarily in a mirthful manner.

a soft pout forms at your lips upon hearing his words, urging you to increase your pace by a minuscule amount. once you had gotten familiar with the monster in your palm, you wrapped your lips around the head, slowly inching yourself down his shaft until your nose met the unruly hairs of his pelvis. he was heavy in your jaw, a telltale sign that you’d end up with a strong ache that’d take days to soothe; and the throb of his length only led to the gush in your panties.

as you began to bob your head, toji threw his head back, large hands gripping at your jaw to keep you nice and puckered for him. the sensation of his plush tip bullying the back of your throat causes you to moan, a sound, and a feeling, that toji doesn't miss. you pick up your rhythm, but shortly after, toji starts up his; slamming his cock into your unexpecting mouth with no remorse.

rough ministrations urged you to gag until you came to ignore the feeling and focus on his pleasure, innocent and teary eyes showing through a wall of thick lashes up at him. what a cocky bastard.

“c’mon, you can take more, can’t ya?” he goads, his vocables resonating in a choppy cadence underneath the guise of his groans. “dontcha want milk?”

the mix of saliva and his precum trailed from your mouth as his heavy balls slammed against your chin. you took notice of how his vigorous pace faltered, signally an orgasm just seconds away.

one thrust. two thrust. three.

he’d managed to hold your face to his pelvis as he fucked through his orgasm, a deep groan bellowing through the air while he painted your throat in his seed.

what a liar. he didn’t taste anything like milk.

slowly, he pulls away and spurts the last few drops of cum onto your swollen lips, where he took much needed amusement in your starry eyed gaze.

your heavy pants were like music to his ears, something he wished he could etch into his memory for years to come.

“it’s all messy.” you mewled, licking at the seed that dripped to your lips. his hands were glacial as you felt them on your face while he leaned down to be eye level with you. “oh, i know. lemme take care of that.” he swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, drinking in his own orgasm before taking you into a heated kiss.

it was a brief moment, so brief you were too lightheaded to even realize how he manhandled you into the perfect position — bent over to touch your toes.

he pulled away, roughly tugging at your little shorts until they pooled at your ankles. you felt him slide his cock over your panties just before pushing them to the side to line it up with your slit.

all toji wanted to do in that moment was slide right in, but he knew he couldn’t. you just weren’t wet enough to handle all of him. and besides, he definitely didn’t want to deal with a whining princess suggesting that it “doesn’t fit.”

instead, he slid his sensitive cock between your folds. “gotta get you nice ‘nd ready,” he spoke while reveling in the way that his tip catched at your poor, neglected clit. “feel flattered, i don’t do this for everybody.”

each slide jolted your body as the slightest tinge of pleasure coursed within you. it wasn’t enough to get you feeling close, no, but it was ample in gushing more slick from your hole.

“t-toji, sir, please..” you had let out a soft, vexed sigh at the lack of feeling, wiggling your hips to create friction in any type of way.

it reigned pointless, as most things did with toji. he was too busy focused on the sheen covering his cock from just toying with your angelcunt that whatever nonsense you were spouting was irrelevant to him. he continued his motions until the tightening of your core and fluttering of your pussy told him everything he needed to know.

satisfied with the level at which he teased you, he halted. just before you could fucking cum. you let out a frustrated whine that didn’t mean much to him, agitated by the loss of sensation.

in mere moments, he was pushing himself past your walls, stretching you out while your little cunt struggled to accommodate his size. “w-what if it doesn’t fit..?” you managed to babble out in your pathetic state.

oh, if your nosy neighbors knew that sweet little princess down the street was getting her cunt stretched out by the milkman, they would have a conniption.

toji smirked at your concern, ultimately brushing you off while continuing to urge himself even deeper. “let’s just make it fit then.”

the feeling of being stuffed full was unlike anything you’d experienced in the past. your past partners weren’t much to moan at, but toji? he had you grasping at any surface to give you leverage. as soon as he bottomed out, you could feel the tip rubbing so deliciously against the hollow of your cervix, the tinge of pain going unnoticed from how riddled with desire you were for him. with confirmation that he was fully inside, toji began to set a rough pace, strokes deep and firm enough to have you jolting forward with every thrust.

you scrambled to hold onto anything for dear life, afraid that your knees would grow weak and give out underneath your own weight. though, he kept his hands taut at your hips, only speeding up his potent thrusts to taunt you even more for your lack of stability.

fucked dumb within the first few seconds, drool dribbled past your lip, your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you tried to take everything you were given.

with the intense way your walls were hugging around his cock, he couldn’t help but let out something of a deep, guttural groan. you had reached behind you to press a feeble hand to his abdomen, hoping it would ease his ministrations, yet your adorable action only caused the opposite.

he took your wrists in his one hand, pulling you up to hit deeper within your walls. “fuck! ‘s too d-deep!” you cried out, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening within your being, and to your dismay, he only held you closer against his chest, other hand gripping at your jaw while his cock milked your gspot for all it’s worth.

“too deep? this too deep for ya?” toji taunts. “i thought you knew how to take dick, you sure looked like it.”

his grip at your face only tighten an ounce more as he waited for whatever nonsense you could muster out.

“i-i can..! i c’n take it!”

only seconds later did your high come crashing down, sending your body into a flutter of shocks. a sensation so perfervid, it had your mind hazy while you creamed all over his cock.

following suit, in a bout of thrusts, toji was painting your insides with his warm wet seed, only pulling out once he felt you go limp in his hold.

“don’t tap out on me now, you haven’t even paid for the milk.”

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mochroialainn · 3 months ago

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Warnings for infertility, sub!johnny, dom!simon, oral sex, PIV sex, breeding, pregnancy mention 18+ MDNI

Thinking about trying for a baby with Simon but having issues convcieving so you both go to the doctors and get test done and find out Simon has an incredibly low sperm count and while its not impossible for you to get pregnant with Simons babe, it would be incredibly difficult. So you weigh up your options, talking about adopting and IVF, and while your both open to adopting you want to experience pregnancy but neither of you really want a random unknown donor who could have god knows kind of genetic and herititary disorders. You decide you want someone you know, someone you trust, eventually settling on Johnny. Hes Simons best friend after all and you both trust him immensely. When you go to ask him about he, hes happy to say yes all he has to do is jerk off into a jar and the doctors do all the rest. But then you inform him that no, you don't want to do it through doctors and stuff, you want him to fuck you and knock you up. Its less invasive that way, less stress on your body where you would be poked and proded and filled with hormones for egg extraction and stuff, and definitely far less expensive. He blushes a bright tomato red when you tell him this, stammering around an answer because he has always wanted to fuck you but you're Ghosts girl and he wouldn't do that to him and know hes been presented the perfect opportunity to do it. It stammers out a yes, not meeting Simons eyes, instead staring at your radiant smile.

Very soon after this, Johnny has you naked on his bed, legs spread as his head is buried between your thighs while Simon guides him with his hand and words, after all Simons 'gotta teach him how to fuck his girl right'. Simons fisting his cock as he watched you come undone under Johnnys tongue, eyes glazed over and switching between your look of pure pleasure and the way Johnnys laps at your clit and hole like a man starved and you were his first source of nourishment. After you've came twice from Johnnys tongue and fingers, Simon grips his hair by the roots and pulls his head up and Johnnys tongue lols out of his mouth and he pants like a dog, your cum soaking his chin and stubble and Simon has to stop himself from leaning down and licking the it and maybe even kissing Johnny to taste you on his lips (he decided in that moment, he would do that another time because there was going to be another time) and talks Johnny through fucking you. What angles you like, what pace to go at, how rough he can get with you and how you like for him to push down on your stomach when hes deep inside you. Then he sits himself on the chair facing the bed, hand wrapped tightly around his cock as he watches Johnny fuck you, matching Johnnys pace and barking out orders like they were on the field. The three of you cum at the same, Johnny pressed right against your cervix to ensure he gest his cum as deep inside you as possible (to help maximise your chance of getting pregnant of course and not for any other reason) and the moans you let out are harmonious and beautiful. Just 3 people reaching the same state of ecstaty.

And thats just the first time you fuck, after all it doesn't always work on the first try and maybe you'll continue on even after your pregnant.

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theealbatross · 8 months ago

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fight the alchemy (s.s)

Plot | After a tumultuous year, Sebastian’s life was finally okay – passable, up-to-scratch, satisfactory. And he had just almost reached peace – when his brilliant, painfully observant, carelessly crude genius of a friend, Garreth Weasley, started pointing out unnecessary facts that could rip all that harmony to shreds.

or, Garreth asks why Sebastian isn’t dating you. Sebastian spirals.

Tags | fluff, sebastian is a thought daughter, low self esteem, seb is a playboy BUT NOT REALLY, horny thots but we keep it pg, insecurity so deep you try to fight cupid, cupid fights back

An Ashwinder’s wand to his neck and Sebastian could honestly and truly say that he was … alright.

Life wasn’t perfect, by any means. His uncle was murdered dead, an estranged twin sister in Paris who refuses to answer his letters, a mistrustful Ominis that breathes on his neck, and a tattered companionship that was barely hanging on by a thread.

But he was okay.

Thankfully, Solomon was still dead, Anne was still alive, and still cranky Ominis is now open to reconciliation. Plus, if all else had fallen, he at least managed to save your cherished friendship thanks to your forgiving nature.

Thus, as thanks to the people who had not yet given up on him, he had sworn to live the rest of his academic life as a meek, unassuming, law-abiding student of Hogwarts.

And he did such a good job at it.

The professors are now impressed at his steadily increasing grades (so much so that the Ravenclaws are now finally seeing him as a threat again) and he even managed to make Imelda’s team as her beater to keep him occupied.

The latter, however, had a grating consequence – he had become popular.

It was thrilling, at first, he went on dates to make up for the years he had lost, kissed the pretty girls because it felt like he should (as one of the few bastards lucky enough to live every raging teenager’s dream), and accepted the slaps on the face politely when they inevitably broke up.

But now he’s just gotten tired and bored of it all.

Ominis says it’s a genius’ folly, to always find a fault in something and then drop it when it doesn’t quite meet his standard of perfect. Leander says he’s just a bastard.

He cups his face with his hand, wincing. Her fucking ring caught on his skin and he can’t be arsed to suffer through the bitterness of a Wiggenweld Potion for a mere scratch.

Garreth doesn’t bother to swallow his bread before saying, “Really, mate? I thought you liked this one?”

“Liked her rack, more likely,” Andrew quipped from his seat on the stone steps of the boathouse.

Sebastian threw his scarf on his face, satisfied at his squawk.

“No talking about my ex-girlfriends,” he warned. It was one of his few rules when it came to his male friends. He may be a bastard but as someone with a sister and a couple of good female friendships, he makes it a point to never become one of those losers who talk badly about women they have a history with. Just so he can have a moral high ground when he beats up anyone who might do it to his friends.

“All right, all right,” Andrew raised his hands in playful surrender, throwing Sebastian’s scarf back to him. “But as your friend, I think it’s about time you stop swapping out girls every time you get bored of them.”

“I don’t swap them out,” he rolls his eyes. “Breakups are normal.”

“Breakups are normal,” Garreth points out. “Six breakups in 2 years is an issue.”

“Maybe I’m just meant for the bachelor life,” he mumbles, ignoring the pointed accusation from Garreth. Fucking perceptive prick. “Not everyone gets to meet their soulmate in Hogwarts, asshole.”

Garreth grins, “Natty’s great, isn’t she?”

Sebastian and Andrew both throw their scarves at him, the three of them bursting out in laughter and boos.

“To the Three Broomsticks, then?” Andrew stood up, patting his pants.

As 7th years it was nearly impossible to take a breather with the looming threat of exams that will dictate the rest of your life and the inescapable trap of adulthood that awaits them in a couple of months. So, his friends had made it a point to at least go out once every week whenever they could, really take advantage of their last year as students where they had no other responsibility but to survive the week.

In a year’s time, seeing each other as often as they do will be nothing short of a miracle.

“Leander and Everett are already there, saved up a table since it’s a Friday, it’s gonna be packed full,” Andrew explains.

Sebastian looks around, eyes scanning the castle in the setting sun. “You go on ahead I’m waiting for –”

“Sebastian!”

A flash of movement appeared rushing down the stairs towards the boathouse, your face beaming as you waved to the three of them. When you were a foot away from him you jumped into his arms, shrieking energetically when he grabbed your waist and lifted you above his head.

“Sorry, I’m late,” you pant, smiling at your friends once you’re back on the ground. “Professor Hecate asked me to stay back for a minute, something about revisions on my research.”

“I can’t believe you got permission to research in The Restricted Section after the crazy nonsense you pulled in 5th year,” Garreth shook his head. Sebastian wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side, beaming in pride. Nobody knows but the two of you that the very thing you were researching were the technicalities of how you broke Anne’s curse so it could be taught to the nurses in St. Mungos and hopefully spread to the rest of wizardkind.

“It’s exactly because I had the nerve to break the rules that I was given the honorable opportunity,” you dramatically curtsied. “And they said Gryffindors were the brave ones.”

That made Sebastian laugh. Garreth blinks, eyes squinting at him for a second but he doesn’t look offended, more … focused on Sebastian.

“Alright, no more of that House Rivalry. Quidditch Season is over,” Andrew quips.

“Wiped your asses there too, Larson,” he quipped, Andrew’s jaw drops, looking at Garreth for help and receiving none. He was still staring at Sebastian, eyes shifting between him and you.

Andrew groans. “Slytherins are assholes.”

Slytherins are, apparently, also light-weights.

Well, at least one of them is.

He adjusts his hold on your body as the other hand wraps his coat around your body properly. After your last ‘improved’ butterbeer you had slumped into his lap, rudely snoozing off on the crook of his neck and refusing to wake up even when it was time for your group to leave – not that he would’ve allowed that to happen, with your demanding research it was a miracle to get you to sleep let alone let loose.

The rest of the group had gone in first to scope the scenery and bribe the patrolling Head students with leftover chips while he and Garreth were stuck carrying you and an unconscious Amit that they had managed to catch last-minute in Hogsmeade. Poor bastard.

“I was thinking –”

“Please don’t,” he groans.

“Why have you two never dated?”

Sebastian stops his fussing, barely able to use his head to ensure he keeps walking, and continue to Act Normal, now using both of his hands to hold you tighter.

“You’re drunk,” he deflects. The puffs of your breath warm his entire body.

“Because! When I think about it …”

Please, for the love of the great Merlin stop thinking.

“You’ve been inseparable from the start! I can’t believe it’s escaped my notice you’ve never dated. You say your past relationships got boring and got annoying but you’ve never been bored and annoyed with her and you’ve been friends for years!”

Bored with you? He’s had more near-fatal heart attacks because of you than breakups. Sebastian barely had the time to be bored. And sometimes you do get at each other’s throats but it was always fixed after a proper conversation. If his killing his uncle couldn’t turn you away then he doubts anything you do could ever turn him away.

“Plus, with all the respect and love to my beautiful darling Natty, she’s a fucking catch, mate!”

If Garreth wasn’t carrying a sinless half-dead Amit, Sebastian would’ve punched him in his mouth just to stop him from talking.

“I’m just saying,” Garreth walks ahead of him, clearly aware of the fuse he had just lit. Sebastian was tempted to kick the back of his knees just for the satisfaction of seeing him fall. “Maybe you can join the club and find your soulmate in Hogwarts.”

Garreth winks.

“We’re still accepting members.”

He’s decided.

He needs to kill Garreth.

He has not been able to sleep properly for the past week and it’s all because of that ginger prick and his needless remarks.

“Why have you two never dated?”

Sebastian’s pencil cracks in his hand.

“Is he alright?” he hears an underclassman whisper on the other table. He glances at them and they flinch. Quickly, he softens his expression ("You really need to stop scowling at people, Sebastian."), unaware he had glared at them and sent a wary smile in apology. It would just be unfair to aim his ire at innocent people when he could just use it to rip out every strand of Weasley’s hair.

“He’s been staring at that page for an hour. Maybe we should call –”

He stands up, escaping.

Sebastian never realized just how much he spent his time with you until people were looking at him funny when he was walking or sitting alone in public places. At first, he thought there had been crumbs on his face or one of his asshole friends stuck a note on his back like a kid. Plus, he hadn’t been feeling his best since that night but he thought it had been the lack of sleep.

It wasn’t until he had met Imelda on the grounds that he found his answer:

“Where’s the rest of you?”

He blinked at his captain, “I’m sorry?”

She shook her head. “Man, it feels weird seeing you alone. Did you guys have a fight? You’re usually shadowing her like a puppy after class.”

Then everything clicks, the strange looks, the feeling of missing something (like a forgotten important homework after he had reached the top of the Astronomy Tower) – it’s been a side effect of avoiding you.

Okay, it’s not that he’s avoiding you per se. He just needs space. He needs to think and he finds that can’t do that once he feels your eyes on him. With his luck, you’re going to see right through him and that would just be unideal if not a fucking catastrophe.

That’s why he’s taken it upon himself to stay off your way until he puts his thoughts in a row and finally screws his head on straight again. Or he could just kill Garreth, get sent straight to Azakaban, and avoid confronting these complicated thoughts altogether.

“I can’t believe it’s escaped my notice you’ve never dated!”

He sits on a bench, hands on his head as he let out a prolonged groan, “The fucking bastard.”

Why did he have to point it out? Why did Garreth have to bring what he, upon reflection, had buried on the back of his head, just waiting for that one little flick of acknowledgment before it blew his brains out.

Because Sebastian is a lot of things but he’s not a fucking moron.

It’s not that the thought of being together is unpleasant. If he lets himself consider it his chest feels like it would escape his ribcage both in excitement and utter terror.

But Garreth was right: he’d never thought about it before – hadn’t thought the idea was conceivable in this reality.

He has a feeling it was his way of preserving whatever pure relationship he had left. He’s not exactly rich with true companionship and he’s not idiotic enough to risk it all over a bloody crush.

And not just any crush – his best friend, the person who saved his life and then helped him rebuild it when he was finished smashing it to pieces. The one who never turned her back even when his blood had given up. The girl who has a line of eligible bachelors following her on their knees for a single chance, ones who could offer her more than he ever could – ones who could offer her the world.

So, yeah – forgive him, but he’s never really allowed himself to entertain the idea of them dating. Sebastian has tested his luck enough.

Unless the roles switch and he gets to save the wizarding world this time then maybe … yeah, maybe -- maybe in another fucking life.

The thought makes him stand up, walking straight out of the campus to hopefully drown the sorrows of the depressing state of his love life with the best fire whiskey Hogshead could offer. How does he even move on from this? How does he make peace with the fact that he has sealed his fate of living the rest of his life alone?

It’s impossible, he’s decided. Even if he graduates at the top of the classes he is taking and gets accepted into the Auror Programme that Sharp had recommended him for, their social standing is still heavens apart. He’s an orphan, with a husk of an extended family and no money to his name.

It wouldn’t matter to you, never really cared for pure bloodlines or lineages and he knows anyone who brings that up when they’re courting you will receive the most disgusted look on your face.

But he cares – you are the most special person in his life. He wants the best for you. And the best is not something he can provide.

His depressing thoughts halt as his steps falter, a familiar scent tickling his nose. A familiar scent that leads straight into the Forbidden Forest. When he looks up to the sky, he realizes the sun has almost finished setting.

She can’t be that reckless, right?

He was barely surprised when he chanted the incantation that triggered the charm they had both put in their necklaces, the sparkling thread leads straight into the forest. And if he knows you half as well as he thinks he does then he knows exactly where it’s gonna lead to.

There goes his late-night plan.

It isn’t exactly his first jaunt in the forbidden space but it still gives him the creeps especially so close to the night. Why you’re so fond of the place is something he’ll never understand.

But that’s just the way you were, just another part of your quirks that makes you so endearing.

How you throw your head back when you laugh, that you get so cranky when you’re studying that no one dares to approach you but him, even the way you messily eat your favorite chocolate pastry of the week yet never fail to share a piece with him.

With this new revelation, he bitterly accepts the reason for his philandering ways. That he simply is another prick who is coping with not being able to attain the love of his life at the expense of those poor girls.

His self-condemnation however was cut short when he heard the waterfall, not being able to help the smirk on his face when he turned the corner and found you just as he had expected: in the middle of the clear, dark, water, floating carelessly on your back.

Gods, you are a beauty. He’s always thought so, the entire male population in Hogwarts thought so too. If they somehow get to break through your walls and manage to get to know you, he might just have to beat them away with an actual stick.

“Sebastian,” you smile, his heart stops. “I knew you’d find me.”

You swim to him gracefully, barely disturbing the water with only your eyes above the water but there was no hiding the grin in your face. Like a pitiful sailor seduced by a siren, his feet dragged him to the edge, a short ledge above from where you were looking up at him.

“You left your scent on purpose,” he states, kneeling to get a closer look at you. What a beauty – mischievous, cunning, irresistible. He’s never loved anyone more. “Naughty, naughty, darling.”

She pulls herself up the ledge, their faces inches away from each other. He nails his eyes to yours so they wouldn’t be tempted to look down at your soaking figure cloaked only by a thin chemise “I had to get you somehow, knew you couldn’t resist a damsel in distress.”

“Funny,” he softly glares, chuckling when she preens, clearly satisfied that her plan worked perfectly. “With all the water in the Black Lake, you had to pick the Forbidden Forest to swim in.”

You dip yourself back down in the water, swimming away but still facing him. “Come, Sebastian. I’ve been bored all week since you’ve been avoiding me.”

Guilt runs through his spine at the sudden coldness in your offhanded comment. Clearly, his absence hasn’t escaped your notice as he had hoped.

Like a scolded pup, he follows your command to a T. Eyes never leaving your floating figure as he removed his coat, folding it neatly along with the rest of his clothes until he was left in his underclothes.

He winces at the touch of the freezing water. A heating charm would do wonders but the way your unsympathetic eyes never left his figure gave him a feeling that this was a punishment he was meant to endure.

He steels himself, diving into the water and only resurfacing when he is right in front of you. “You called?”

“You’re so fucking full of yourself,” you splash the cold water at him, shrieking when he reaches out for your arms and barely managing to slip away.

He dives again, grinning at your confused flounder, until you realize your mistake, looking down just as he catches your waist, your surprised shriek, and his unrestrained laughter breaks through the quiet of the forest.

“You done running now, pet?” he locks his hands on your back, pushing you close until he is carrying both your weight in the water, chin resting on your chest as your hands run through his soaking hair.

Your darkened hair frames your face, like a sheer curtain it drops, teasing his cheeks, and hiding your conversation from the rest of the forest – in the dimness, your eyes have never been more radiant, even if it was clearly pissed at him.

Skinship wasn’t foreign between the two of you. When you’ve saved each other’s lives from certain death more times than you care to count, cuddling is the least of your worries.

But there is something about the forest's silence, the sparse moonlight that peaks through the dense trees, the sound of the droplets falling from your hair to the water, and the distant echoes of the animals that make everything intimate. -- more intimate than usual.

“Are you?” you throw his question back at him mercilessly, your hands on the back of his neck, locking his face to look up at you – finally at you. The weeklong separation had been torture and now that the distance had cut his regular contact with his favorite witch, he finally realized how fast his heart was beating when he was around her.

He smiles.

He was satisfied, he swore he was.

Sebastian’s life was finally okay – passable, up-to-scratch, satisfactory. He shouldn’t strive for more, couldn’t allow himself that luxury – the luxury of love, the luxury of you.

But as he stares at your eyes, as he feels the ice in your skin, as he imagines a future where it wasn't him that gets to bite the plump of your lips – that dirty, greedy part of him crawls out of the hole he had shoved it in.

He feels it win.

“Are you done running now?” you whisper, a droplet falls from the tip of your nose to the space just below his eyes, his breath hitches, like your magnetic presence had sucked out all the air of the forest.

“I wasn’t running,” she raises a brow, and Sebastian presses his lips to your ears. “I was thinking.”

“And?”

Leander was right: he really is a bastard.

But he’s a bastard who will no longer wait for another life to love you. He's a bastard who will get what he wants.

“I think,” he whispers, at peace. “I think I’m gonna marry you someday.”

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy fanfiction

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museiest · 3 months ago

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WE'RE MEANT TO BE TOGETHER .ᐟ gojo satoru

PAIRING. ceo!gojo x kindergarten teacher!reader

ABOUT. ceo!gojo discovers he has a son which leads him to the harmony fields kindergarten, where the woman who almost ran into him with her car in the morning is his son's teacher and the cause of his future sleepless nights.

NOTES. it's finally here!! had some trouble with the written part of this smau so that's why i took so long in posting it, this was the winner in this poll. this is a multi-part smau. harmony fields is the name of the kindergarten.

WARNINGS. enemies to lovers ⋆ typos ⋆ ignore timestamps ⋆ english is not my first language ⋆ written part (is sh!t y'all) ⋆ gojo's is insufferable ⋆ utahime's the owner of harmony fields ⋆ written part takes place a day after the incident and it's 1,04k words.

part one | part two | part three | more?

“Okay. . .remember what we practiced?” the white-haired man immediately asked as he helped the boy out of his car.

The kid nodded slowly and looked up at Satoru, waiting for him to hand over the chips he bought for him on the way here.

“I’ll give them to you, kid, but first, let’s practice one more time,” Satoru warned, “You're going to say that i'm your dad and that your mom is away on a trip, 'kay?”

“But you said that you weren't my dad, and my mom isn’t on a trip,” the boy pointed out seriously, making the blue-eyed man sigh.

“Just say it, please? if you don’t, i’ll take you to the police station and let them deal with you," Satoru threatened with a unsettling smile.

“He’s my dad, and my mom is away on a trip,” Megumi repeated, irritated by the man.

Truth is, he missed his mom and he wished she was there with him instead of the stranger who was taking care of him now.

“Yes! Good boy,” Satoru ruffled the Megumi’s hair like he was petting a dog, he definitely wasn't used to dealing with kids, especially one his age.

How do you even treat a five-year old? Was what had been going through Gojo's head since his son arrived at his apartment.

“Ah, Gojo! Right on time, looks like having a son is finally doing you some good,” Utahime called out as she walked towards the entrance of her kindergarten, where the dad and son duo were.

“Utahime, my least favorite person! it's been, what? two months?" he sneered.

“It’s always such a disgrace seeing you, Gojo," she said bitterly before putting on her best smile and looking at the five-year-old, “And you must be Megumi, right?”

“He’s my dad, and my mom is on a trip,” Megumi stated almost robotically, making the Harmony Field's director laugh.

“Wow, how cool!” she exclaimed, gesturing for them to follow her inside.

“Yeah, his mom is at a seminar in Europe,” the ceo lied smoothly.

“Europe? You must be very proud, Megumi,” the dark-haired woman tried to make some chitchat but Megumi remained silent, walking behind them as quietly as possible.

“’Gumi doesn’t talk much, but it’s something i- we’ve been working on. . .” Satoru excused himself with another lie, though Utahime barely paid attention, too focused on you approaching. It was the perfect opportunity to introduce you to the new dad and the new kid joining your class.

“Yn! Come over here, this is Gojo Satoru and his son, Megumi,” Utahime introduced, making your eyes widen in surprise as soon as you locked eyes with the man you almost hit with your car on your way to the kindergarten.

“You?/You?” you both said at the same time, his eyes sharp enough that if looks could kill, you'd be in a coffin with people saying how good of a person you were; and you just forced a polite smile to hide your annoyance at seeing him at your workplace, such arrogant man didn't seem like a father to you, not even a bad one, he just seemed like the kind of guy who didn't care for kids at all but there he was, putting on his best smile with his son who didn't look like him at all except for his eyes and messy hair.

“You two know each other?” your friend and colleague asked, looking between you both expectantly.

“Yeah. . .turns out this dad likes to go running in the middle of the street in the morning,” you muttered through gritted teeth, making the man scoff.

“Right. And it seems like there's more and more of those crazy drivers these days, dangerous, isn’t it?” Satoru shot back. You barely heard Utahime’s response, too focused on the annoyance bubbling inside you. Who did this guy think he was? He had to be some kind of irresponsible deranged idiot.

You rolled your eyes once more before glancing down and noticing the little boy looking at you curiously.

You crouched down to meet his eyes and be able to speak to him directly, the first impression with children was always the most important to you rather than the one with the parent, “Hi, sweetheart! you must be Megumi, how are you?” you asked kindly, you've loved kids since forever and it didn’t matter that this particular kid belonged to the most insufferable man you'd ever met.

Megumi’s eyes looked sad, distant and lost, as if all he wanted was to be anywhere but here. Still, you tried talking to him, sensing his struggle in interacting with people.

When he didn’t respond, you continued, “You know, in the classroom there's lots of kids your age who can’t wait to meet you. They’ve been so excited ever since we told them a new friend for them was coming. And guess what? Today’s your lucky day because we have a special activity with puppies! How does that sound?” you asked with a warm smile and at the mention of 'puppies,' Megumi’s eyes lit up, an expression of excitement appearing on his face for the first time since he got there along with a soft smile. Even Satoru seemed surprised to see it, he hadn't smiled at all when he was at his apartment and now he does with a complete stranger? not that he wasn't one either but the father (if you could call him that) had tried everything the day before to make the kid laugh and all he got was a 'you're not funny' from him.

“Are there really going to be puppies?” Megumi asked, a special glimmer in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Of course! So what do you say? Want to wait for them with the other kids?” you asked, extending your hand to his smaller one. Megumi glanced between his dad and you before nodding and taking your hand with a small smile still on his lips and that was the first step to make this kid as happy as he could be.

Without hesitation, you led him towards the rest of the class, happy that your first interaction with the boy had been a success. You just hoped things would stay that way, today, tomorrow and hopefully forever.

ARTIFACTS .ᐟ

• hari fushiguro is megumi's aunt, she's took care of him for two weeks and that was it. she didn't have enough money to raise him and her daughter so she went to gojo's apt since she remembered he had a lot of money when they hooked up and made up a story about her sister and him.

• toji's dead and tsumiki doesn't exist in this one since toji died before megumi was born.

• his mom died two weeks ago but since he's still a kid, he doesn't know how to process it so he thinks his mom left him and that's why his aunt didn't want him either.

• ofc gojo isn't his father but they make him believe he is.

• that's all!! enjoy <3

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pascaloverx · 4 months ago

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STARVE

Summary: You lost your husband some time ago while he served as a gladiator for Emperors Geta and Caracalla. General Acacius saved you from becoming an object of pleasure for the emperors. Since then, he has taken you as his mistress. In your free time, you became a disciple of Ravi, the healer, dedicating yourself to tending to wounded gladiators. All seemed to be in perfect harmony until Hanno, a gladiator driven by a thirst for vengeance, crossed your path.

Author's Note: And the gods said: Starve will be a multi-chapter fanfiction (I hope readers will follow it all the way through). Without further ado, the characters belong to Ridley Scott's Gladiator II universe, though there will be significant deviations from the film. Historical accuracy regarding life in the Roman Empire may not always be strictly observed, so I hope you can overlook that. Yes, this story revolves around a love triangle, but I will strive to satisfy everyone. This fanfiction will include adult content, violence, and potentially coarse language. Enjoy!

one three

TWO

Days, perhaps more, have passed. You and Hanno have been meeting in secret, seizing moments when there was no sign of General Acacius. All that you were permitted to know was that he was recovering in the company of his beloved wife, Lucilla, who made it clear she wanted no trace of your presence near her husband. The absence of Acacius weighed upon you more than you cared to admit. To be denied access to him felt akin to holding your breath for far too long. Yet, your clandestine encounters with Hanno had proven to be a welcome distraction, enough to keep your mind from lingering too deeply on what you could not change.

"Your gladiator is requesting your care, Y/N. And while we are on the subject, your encounters under the pretext of physical care will soon spark rumors," Ravi remarks as he steps into the chamber where he keeps his healing tools. "General Acacius will be the first to rage if he learns of your escapades. Should Emperors Geta and Caracalla grow suspicious, they may presume you are seeking a new lover. Not to mention the possibility of Macrinus taking offense at your growing closeness with his gladiator." You remain crouched, organizing a collection of herbs, a faint smile tugging at your lips. Hanno needs you—or rather, he has summoned you for yet another session of personal defense training.

"Ravi, believe me, I am well aware of the risks I take in daring to draw close to Hanno. Yet, I choose to take them—something no one of sound mind would do. General Acacius will not always be there to save me in the future. Lucilla has made her stance on my involvement with him abundantly clear. You do not see him here, concerned for me, do you? Precisely for that reason, I must think of the future." You speak as you search for the garment General Acacius once left at your disposal, should you ever need to fight.

"Since you are so determined to take such risks, be cautious. The guards will bring Hanno to be treated, and you will have only that time to practice—whatever it is you two practice," Ravi warns, much as he does each time you and Hanno meet, repeating the same cautions.

"I shall change my attire. If you would, dear friend, make Hanno comfortable until I return," you say, rising and moving toward the exit of the space where you and Ravi have tended to countless gladiators. "If all goes well today, I shall be one step closer to becoming more than a healer or a lover. I shall be the closest thing to a warrior I can aspire to be." Ravi nods, though a hint of worry lingers in his expression. He is the closest thing to an ally you have.

Time rushes by when one is on the brink of doing something forbidden, but you no longer concern yourself with the consequences. You are resolute to take control of your destiny, even if that control is but a sliver. Once dressed, you secure the dagger Acacius once gifted you in a hidden compartment of your attire. It is your small but vital secret, and you are steadily improving in its use.

With purpose in your stride, you make your way swiftly to where Hanno is awaiting you. When you arrive, his eyes brighten at the sight of you. "I see your delay is justified; you look prepared for battle. Let us see if you can land a blow," Hanno says, advancing toward you with a predatory gait meant to intimidate.

You meet his gaze with an unflinching smile. "Save your words for when we’re truly facing off, gladiator," you reply, following him to the familiar training grounds. It is the very arena where countless gladiators sharpen their skills, preparing for the moment they will stand before the emperors in the grand coliseum.

As soon as you step into the center of the training grounds, Hanno strikes without warning. His sword arcs toward you, narrowly missing as you instinctively step back. At the start of this combat practice, both of you wield swords, though your grasp on its use remains novice.

"Have you lost your sanity, Hanno? I wasn’t ready," you exclaim, fixing him with a glare of irritation. He advances on you again, silent and relentless, as if transformed into a stranger intent on attack. His gaze is unwavering, his resolve sharp.

"When you’re defending yourself, no one will wait for you to be ready, nor will they show you mercy. I want you to see me as you would see any foe who dares strike at you," Hanno declares, his sword slashing toward you again. You react, relying on your defensive maneuvers, retreating step by step until a strategy for counterattack begins to form in your mind.

"I’m not so sure; you seem to be enjoying this far too much," you retort, timing your movements before landing your first offensive strike. It catches him off guard, a flicker of surprise flashing across his face. The gap between you narrows, charged with the thrill of the fight and something deeper, more electrifying.

"I am enjoying it just as much as you enjoy patching me up with that brute strength of yours, healer. Now, focus," Hanno says, parrying your blow with unnerving precision. It’s like a dance—each movement perfectly countering the other. You attack; he defends. He strikes; you block. The rhythm between you is almost hypnotic, an eerie harmony born of tension and skill. But then, in a risky maneuver, Hanno manages to disarm you. Your sword flies from your grasp, landing far out of reach. Now standing mere steps apart, your eyes meet, both of you breathing heavily. It feels like the end for you, so why not take a chance?

With a surge of reckless determination, you rush toward him, channeling all your strength into an attempt to topple him. In your mind, it isn’t Hanno you’re facing—it’s an enemy, someone who would do you harm. Your unexpected move catches him off guard, and he falls to the ground. By sheer luck or fate, his sword slips from his grip as well. Now, you find yourself on top of him, both of you unarmed. The air between you is charged, your breaths mingling as silence envelops the space.

"It seems I have bested the great gladiator of Macrinus," you say, pressing your body lightly against his, a triumphant smile on your lips. Hanno smirks, his hands firmly gripping your waist as he swiftly reverses your positions, pinning you beneath him with effortless strength.

"Do not be deceived, healer," he murmurs, his piercing gaze locking with yours. But you are not so easily subdued. With a practiced movement, you draw the hidden dagger from your vestments and press it against his neck, the blade gleaming in the dim light. "Your presumption is touching, gladiator," you retort, your tone both teasing and sharp.

"What will you do next, healer?" Hanno asks, his breath warm against your face. The tension between you ignites instantly, palpable and undeniable. Before you can respond, he pulls your face closer to his, his lips capturing yours with a fervent intensity, as though he means to consume you entirely. At first, you almost resist Hanno’s kiss—it feels forbidden, a boundary you should not cross. Since your husband’s passing, Acacius was the only man you had kissed. Yet, as Hanno’s tongue ventures into your mouth, you find yourself surrendering, the kiss quickly becoming mutual.

In truth, Hanno is devouring you, but you refuse to let him take the upper hand so easily. You tug at his hair with force, pulling him closer, demanding his full attention. The kiss deepens, its intensity increasing to the point of no return. You want him to feel your hunger, to know that you wish to consume him just as much. For all its forbidden allure, you crave this moment—not because of duty or obligation, but because you want it. You want to know what it feels like to kiss someone you shouldn't, to rebel against every expectation tethering you. Your husband was not forced upon you, but your marriage had been a safeguard. Becoming Acacius’ lover served a similar purpose. But with Hanno, nothing feels safe. And perhaps that is why you let this moment unfold. There is no security here, no veil of protection. If you and Hanno are caught, Acacius could kill him, both the Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla could execute you, and the repercussions would be endless. Yet, none of that matters as your lips clash with his in this reckless, intoxicating dance of defiance.

The kiss is all-consuming, so intense that, for a moment, it steals your breath. You pause, pulling away to recover the air you desperately need. Yet Hanno seems unsatisfied, his eyes locked on you with an intensity that threatens to unravel your resolve.

His hand cups your face, fingers tracing over every detail as if committing you to memory. When his thumb brushes over your lips, he murmurs softly, "Your lips remind me of hers, my beautiful Arishat." Reality strikes like a sharp blade. He is with you, yet his mind lingers on his late wife. The weight of that truth is unbearable. As he leans forward, seeking your lips once more, you push him away, creating the distance you now desperately need.

"I will not be her replacement," you think, your resolve firm. "Nor Lucilla’s substitute." Avoiding his gaze, your shame and frustration burn within you. Rising quickly, you make your way toward your quarters. You and Ravi must always be prepared to tend to the wounded, so your rooms are close to where the gladiators train and where Ravi keeps his healing tools.

"Healer," Hanno calls out behind you, his voice firm yet laced with something softer. He follows after you, refusing to let the moment end so abruptly.

"Gladiator," you say, turning to face Hanno. Your body nearly collides with his, but you take a step back, halting the chase that had ensued. "Our training is done. I think it would be wise for us to part ways now, so as not to confuse..." You pause, searching for the right word to define what you might be confusing, only for Hanno to step abruptly closer, almost closing the space entirely.

"I am not confused about anything, healer," he says, his tone firm yet sincere. "I was lost momentarily in a memory, but I assure you, I knew exactly who I was kissing." He takes another step forward, his presence overwhelming.

"The act itself is already a problem, gladiator," you reply, struggling to maintain composure under his intense gaze. "We should not have kissed." Before he can respond, both of you hear footsteps approaching. In an instant, Hanno’s hand moves to your waist, pulling you behind him as though to shield you from whatever danger may come. Ravi appears, nearly running toward you, his face etched with worry.

"General Acacius has been seen heading this way," Ravi announces, his voice hurried and panicked. "The guards are murmuring that he’s coming to see you, Y/N. I suggest we get Hanno out of here immediately, and you prepare yourself to receive him."

The mention of Acacius sends a cold dread through you. Him encountering Hanno now would spell disaster. "Tell the guards who brought Hanno to retrieve him from here," you instruct, your voice steady despite the storm brewing inside. "Hanno and I will change out of these combat garments, and I’ll distract Acacius while the guards take Hanno back to his cell. Ravi, I’ll need your speed."

Without hesitation, Ravi nods and rushes off to summon the guards. You, in turn, push Hanno toward a secluded area where he can change out of his training gear. "Change in there and wait for me," you instruct firmly. Noticing the swords in his hands, you swiftly take them from him despite his protests. With no time to spare, you carry the weapons back to your quarters while Hanno remains in the area where you and Ravi usually tend to injured gladiators. In the quiet urgency of your chambers, you hastily change your attire, your mind racing with the precariousness of the situation. Hanno waits silently, the gravity of the moment clear to both of you.

"Do you fear what might happen should General Acacius discover your association with the gladiator who recently sought his life?" Hanno asks as you enter the room where he waits patiently to be taken back to his cell.

"I do not fear for myself," you reply, adjusting your tunic with calm precision. "I fear that if you and he meet, there will be unnecessary bloodshed. As I’ve told you before, if you wish to kill him, do so in a duel—before the people of Rome. Sate the appetite of Emperors Geta and Caracalla as they watch you strike at each other in a frenzied battle for glory in the name of the gods."

Hanno listens intently, his expression thoughtful as he steps closer. Without a word, he helps you smooth the folds of your tunic, his touch deliberate yet gentle. "Will you tell him of our association, then?" he asks, finishing his adjustments and letting his hand linger briefly as it grazes your cheek.

"What is there to tell?" you counter, meeting his gaze with resolve. "Our association is no one’s concern." A smile spreads across Hanno’s face, slow and satisfied, as if your answer pleased him greatly.

Moments later, Ravi appears, his expression tense. "The guards are near," he informs, his tone clipped. His gaze shifts between you and Hanno, briefly noting the closeness between you, though he chooses to remain silent. With a small nod, Ravi turns to Hanno, gesturing for him to follow. Hanno casts you a lingering look before allowing Ravi to lead him toward the guards, leaving you behind with the weight of the encounter still pressing on your chest.

You wait patiently for General Acacius to arrive, though his delay stretches longer than anticipated. The thought suddenly strikes you—he might already be in your quarters, as he has been on previous occasions.

"Would you care to explain," his voice calls out, smooth and laced with quiet reproach, "what reasons led my beloved healer, whom I hold in such high regard, to abandon me to the care of Ravi instead of tending to me herself?" Turning toward the source, you find him stepping into view, pulling back the mantle that had concealed his face and form. His approach is measured, deliberate, and his gaze briefly flickers to the swords you had left behind without considering they might draw his notice.

"You should have sought explanations from your wife, General Acacius," you reply, your tone calm but firm, though the effort to keep it so is greater than it seems. "It was she who instructed me, in the presence of the guards no less, to withdraw from tending to your care." His footsteps pause near the swords, his attention drawn to their gleaming edges. The air between you grows heavier as his eyes shift back to yours, narrowing slightly as he regards you. You remain steadfast, though the distance you keep from him feels tenuous, as if he could close it with the simplest of steps.

"I was not informed of such a decision; I would never have allowed my care to pass from your hands to another's," General Acacius speaks softly, his tone a mixture of calm and yearning as he moves toward you with deliberate caution, yet there is a palpable hunger in his eyes.

"General, whether you authorized it or not is irrelevant," you reply, holding your ground though the weight of his presence begins to press upon you. "Lucilla no longer wishes for us to remain close. Surely, you remember that when all this began, you told me that if your wife were ever to object to our association, even if it was merely for appearances, it would end."

Your words are firm, yet the truth they carry sinks heavily into your own heart. You know now, with certainty, that the chapter of your life entwined with Acacius is nearing its inevitable conclusion.

"Those words were spoken before we became what we are today," Acacius responds, his voice steady yet filled with a quiet intensity. "Surely you know I have no intention of abandoning you." He steps closer, his gaze unwavering, his nearness suffocating in its allure.

"Do not worry for me. Your pity is no longer necessary, Acacius," you say, though the ache in your chest betrays the pain these words bring. Deep down, you have long feared that what he felt for you stemmed from nothing but pity.

"I have never pitied you," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with conviction. "Perhaps I felt empathy for your pain in the beginning, but after that—everything was real. Your presence makes me a better man." His hand reaches up to touch your face, tenderly tracing its contours as if to soften your resolve. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, an intimate gesture meant to draw you back to him, to coax you into his embrace once more.

"You owe your loyalty to your wife, not to me," you say, your voice faltering slightly under the weight of his gaze and the warmth of his touch. "We must no longer allow ourselves to feel anything beyond what is proper, Acacius." Even as you speak, your resolve weakens beneath his touch, his words a balm and a temptation all at once. He seems heedless of your protest, intent only on closing the distance between you.

"Lucilla has my loyalty, but you... you have my protection. I will not leave you unguarded," Acacius says, his lips almost brushing against yours, his voice weighted with emotion.

"Then you should know that my loyalty is no longer yours exclusively," you reply, steadying yourself as you deliver the words. You feel the sharp recoil in Acacius as he steps back, his expression hardening, though disbelief flickers in his eyes.

"I am involved with another," you continue, forcing the lie to your lips with a strength you did not know you possessed. "It may mean that I will no longer require your protection in the future." Your words are a dagger you wield with precision, for you know that to continue as his lover would jeopardize his marriage—a risk you cannot allow, no matter the desires that linger within you.

"Who would dare attempt to claim you, knowing that you are mine?" General Acacius demands, his voice edged with irritation that betrays a rare crack in his calm demeanor. His gaze narrows, his presence no less imposing, but the fury brewing beneath his words sends a shiver through you. You realize the fire you have kindled within him may burn brighter than you anticipated.

"Someone who does not fear the wrath of General Acacius," you say, your voice steady despite the undeniable pull of his proximity. You desire him, undeniably so, but you know you must not have him.

"It is clear that our involvement must end—now. Before it concludes in disaster," you declare, watching as Acacius processes your words, his gaze shadowed with an intensity that seems both pained and unyielding.

"Then let it be clear to you," Acacius responds, his tone laced with an unwavering authority, though no threat lies in his words. "Whoever dares to encroach upon what is mine will meet the edge of my sword without delay. Our bond will not be severed while either of us draws breath, Y/N. Keep that in mind." His declaration is resolute, not spoken as a plea but as a statement of his immutable commitment to you. It leaves you breathless, the weight of his words pressing against the fortress of your resolve.

"You cannot protect me forever, Acacius. Just as I cannot heal you forever," you murmur, stepping closer, your desperation palpable as though silently begging him to release you—to let you go before you both reach a precipice from which there is no return.

"Mea domina," he whispers reverently, stepping closer and pulling down the fabric covering your shoulder with deliberate care. His lips press softly against the exposed skin, lingering as if to seal a silent vow. The tenderness in his touch conveys more devotion than desire, a gesture that leaves you caught between longing and regret.

"I would die if necessary, but I will not abandon those I hold in the highest esteem. You and Lucilla are my priorities, and I will relinquish neither of you. If you place so much faith in this new interest of yours, let him come to me bearing a sword, and he shall find his end," he declares, his voice unwavering and resolute, his words resonating like a solemn oath.

Acacius lifts his hand to gently cradle your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as his lips trace a path of soft kisses along your temple, down to the curve of your jaw, and finally your forehead. His lips linger as if memorizing each contour of your face, avoiding your mouth deliberately—a clear boundary, or perhaps his way of expressing silent reproach for the words you have spoken. The kisses feel like a claim, yet also a farewell—his way of both cherishing and punishing, of reminding you of his commitment while withholding the one intimacy he knows you yearn for. The intensity in his gaze as he pulls back speaks volumes, as though he is willing you to see the depths of his resolve. "At times, it feels as though battle is all you truly understand, Acacius," you say, holding his gaze with a penetrating look, as if unraveling the depths of his thoughts.

"I am a man of honor," he replies, his tone firm yet measured. "I will not seek out the man who dares to involve himself with you, but neither will I stand idle should he attempt to take what is rightfully mine." His presence remains close, commanding and resolute, as though he seeks to claim not just the space but the moment itself. With deliberate care, Acacius reaches out, his hand brushing your face in a touch that is at once gentle and laden with unspoken meaning. It lingers, as if he wishes to commit every contour of your features to memory.

Without another word, he steps back, retreating from your chambers with the disciplined stride of a general accustomed to carrying the weight of empires. His departure leaves the room heavy with unresolved tension, the air thick with the echoes of what cannot be spoken. Alone, you are left to ponder the tangled web of emotions and loyalties binding you to both Acacius and Hanno. The weight of your entanglement bears down upon you, as inevitable as the arena’s call to blood and glory.

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tessasturns · 5 months ago

Text

sturniolo christmas

matt sturniolo x reader

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summary... the triplets had invited you over to film a gingerbread house making video, but the tension between you and matt was insane.

warnings... swearing, tension between matt and reader !!

wc... 690

(masterlist)

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the sturniolos house was ready and decorated for christmas, decorations painting the home. you were filming a video with the triplets, a fun holiday activity.

"hey guys, today we are going to be building and decorating gingerbread houses with our best friend, y/n l/n!" nick says as he explains the video to the camera. "hi!" you say as you wave to the camera.

"we're going to be in teams for this, so we have y/n and matt together, which leaves chris and i in a group together" nick explains. "we will have about an hour to finish and you guys will vote on our instagram, @ sturniolo.triplets to see who's is the best."

a couple minutes go by and nick already has the entire group laughing. "what the fuck is that?" nick wheezes as he points out chris' gingerbread man. "it's gingy" he laughs. "look at all his aura nick!" you and matt were now gasping for air at the sight of chris' gingerbread man; it was covered in icing and candy.

"don't fucking put that anywhere near our gingerbread house" nick says. "i'll do whatever the fuck i want to" chris responds, sass laced on his tongue. chris and nick start yelling at eachother, so you and matt take the advantage that they're not working while the time was running out.

you and matt are working in perfect harmony, your house almost done, whereas chris and nicks had fallen about three times. they're still yelling at each other, but you and matt are in your own little world. the roof had begun to slip and matt soon became aware of it, breaking his silence to help you. "make sure you- here" matt wraps his arms around you from behind, helping you hold the roof together while you ice the top.

your breathing subconsciously starts to get heavier, the boy now practically wrapped around you. "okay...there we go" matt says as he stands back up to continue putting gumdrops on the roof. the boys behavior didn't go unnoticed, however nobody said anything.

"chris you're a fucking idiot" nick states as the boys go back at it again. "how am i the idiot? i'm just trying to add gingy to our house" chris chuckles. "oh my-" nick gets cut off by chris throwing the gingerbread man at him, causing a fight between the two.

"oh my fucking- you're gonna die. you're going to fucking die chris!" nick exclaims as he launches the bag of icing in chris' direction. however, chris quickly moved out of the way, leaving the icing to go right for your head. matt is quick to respond, and catches the icing bag right before it smacks you. the two of you are now looking right at eachother, the tension being way too much.

"chat is this rizz?" chris gasps as he stares at the scene unfolding before him. the four of you laugh it off, matt's reflexes being insane once again. you try to keep the odd feeling for your best friend in but nobody in this room knows how much he means to you. everyone goes back to decorating, but not without chris and nick fighting a bit more.

"alright everybody, thank you so much for tuning in and watching this weeks friday video, we will put a poll on our instagram story to see who won so make sure you're following the group account, and we'll see you next friday!" nick says, as matt screams at the camera before shutting it off. you all begin to clean up the mess and nick takes pictures of the gingerbread houses for instagram.

the four of you are now sitting on the couch, matt subconsciously placing his arm around you. you try to choke back words, not wanting anything to change. this night was truly perfect. "i just know we're gonna win" chris states. "i don't give a flying fuck about what you 'know' " matt states as chris starts to huff about how his and nicks gingerbread house was better, a pointless argument that matt showed no mind to. the night ends with watching die hard and sipping hot cocoa, a classic christmas night.

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tessas notes... this is for the @mattscoquette and @letstrip13 holiday writing comp ! however i couldn't get the proper tag to work for some reason, im not on this app very much so i do apologize for that :(

more influencer!reader

blessings and riches, tessa

#mattysketchup #tessa yaps #rylee and mae's sturnmas writing comp #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt x reader #matt x you #matt x y/n #fluff #tension #matthew sturniolo

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l0s3rd0wnt0wn · 6 days ago

Note

I got an ideaa

Stalker tim drake zipped up in a beat suit on your bed, look and seeing you fuck yourself or fucking yourself on a dildo strapped to the bear

OHHH WHO SAID THAT DIRTYY

YOUR FREAK BUT SO AM I HAHAHA!!!

"IT'S NOT STALKING IF SHE KNOWS ME?"

It's not stalking, he mumbles, buying the two-headed teddy bear. It's not stalking, he tells himself as he presses a sweet kiss on the little bear's heart. It's not stalking, he chants, going back to the manor, cutting the stuffed bear right open to put a small little nanny came in its little heart. It's not stalking because he's not a stranger; you know him. You've known him since middle school, so it isn't stalking if we both know each other. He isn't some creep in his parents' basement collecting pictures of you; he's just a normal boy—well, a semi-normal boy—in love, and this sweet little two-headed mismatched teddy bear is the personification of his love. And the nanny cam? That's just his love times three.

"Timmy, he's perfect!" You giggle, the lovesickness showing in your heart-shaped eyes. "Yeah, I knew how much you liked stuffies. I wanted to get something special for my own." He's trying to hide that sickening smirk underneath his sweet gaze, but you know better; you always do. "I'll cherish him for life," you laugh, hugging. The warmth of your body sends electricity down his spine, and oh, you know where, he could barely think, feeling your body pressed up against him like that. This was comfort only a few men can endure.

Every night, he logs into the camera, watching you snore mindlessly in your sleep, how your breath rises and falls, how the straps on your pajama top would slowly slip off, almost revealing your breasts. God, he was going insane; how he longed to be in your room and watch you drift off to sleep. 'Cause he's a gentleman, he tries not to watch you get dressed or change into your work clothes or do other things. You had a wet dream once while he was working on a case when he heard the softest of whimpers coming from your lips, your hand between your thighs, eyebrows knitted tightly together. This must've been a blessing from the gods themselves. He never knew his sweet little angel was such a pervert, so he tries to catch you in the act, waiting for you to come into your room, feeling that hot arch in your tummy.

He'll be lying on his bed in front of a large flat-screen TV, watching as you eagerly rub your clit and fuck your fingers into your pussy while watching the filthiest of porn or moaning along to the men whimpering in your ear. If you wanted an audio, you should have asked; he would've gotten a mic and headset all set up just for you. He doesn't even try to touch his cock while watching you—it just happens. He doesn't mean to moan your name when he sniffs your panties. He doesn't mean to cum in his hand and on his stomach the same time you do; it's all a little accident, you know, just an accident.

But when you come home, heavy-breathed from a hangout, you rush to your closet, pulling out a bag with his name labeled on it. He's confused.

Not until you pull out a red silicone strap do you kiss the tip, and Tim's cock twitches. You crawl onto your bed; you're not even wasting time. You shuffle yourself out of your pants, kissing the dildo from every angle, sucking and licking, leaving no side dry. Your eyes are filled with lust and love at the same time. Sitting up, you grab the teddy, scraping the harness onto him—a perfect fit. "Better than using a pillow," you laughed. Poor Timmy, he's going insane; his whole face flushed red, eyes fist around his cock in his hand, watching you ride the dildo, imagining it's his cock fucking you like that. But when you look directly into the camera, staring right at him as your boobs bounce in front of the screen, love-sick smile on your face, "Cum with me, Timmy," you moaned, and his cock erupts with milky white cum, whimpering together in harmony.

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utterlyotterlyx · 10 months ago

Text

A Ballad of Storm and Shadow

Azriel x F!Reader

Part One

Summary - Rhys had been content in taking the darkest secret of his family to the grave, but when the threat of Hybern increases, he has no choice but to send a message to another world and pray to the Mother that his call is answered.

Warnings - angst, mentions of war, tension, fluff, touch of sadness and longing

This is a crossover series, some aspects will differ from that in the books. Physical attributes are described in this fic, it is essential to the storyline of the character

Rain spattered against the ledge, the open window allowing the tears of the sky to coat the black glossed paint with their sadness. Azriel watched them inquisitively, noting how each droplet fell further into the room than the last, his shadows pecked along the ground to dry the dampened spots and it was a welcome distraction from the conversation encircling the room.

The storm raged on overhead, cracks of lightening slicing across the sky every few moments, the clouds rumbling their anger throughout the city. A harmony to the idea of war.

There was no avoiding it. The war, that is. It had consumed Azriel's every thought as he played out every possible scenario in his mind, ones where they all made it out alive, and the ones where they all perished alongside Prythian. It was those visions that kept him up at night, flashes of Cassian's bloodied face lifeless against the earth, wings torn and soul withered, were enough to make him desperate enough to the point that he'd give anything to avoid it.

Azriel ran his marred hands over the curve of his leathers, soothing down each muscle and drifting over every glowering siphon attached to his body, doing his best to pull himself from the images that plagued his waking moments and sleepless nights.

If Rhys were speaking then Azriel would have been listening, but, surprisingly, he wasn't. Rhys stared dead ahead, nails digging into his nails beds and jaw clenching along with the reeling thoughts plaguing his own mind, staring right ahead at the corner of the table placed in the centre of the seating area at the River House. Azriel wasn't the only one who noticed, Amren had halted her words to slice through his train his thought, "Are you going to say anything?"

Rhys' gaze pulled from its formerly trained spot at the table edge toward his second in command, and it was clear that there was something he wasn't sharing with his family. His eyes drifted about the room, landing on each one of them in turn before they landed on Feyre and wavered slightly. Azriel couldn't blame his brother for his fear, he had finally gotten everything he had ever wanted after all the horrors he had endured, and now that picture perfect life was being threatened.

But something still wasn't right. Rhys was too consumed in his mind to pay any real attention to what Amren was saying, what plans were being spoken of, and that wasn't like Rhys. It wasn't like Rhys at all to blatantly ignore words spoken that could aid them in their collective efforts against Hybern. Azriel couldn't exactly be too picky about it though, considering he too was ignoring the firedrake fumbling plans into fruition, also too consumed by his own demons.

"The High Lords will be convening in three days time," his words were tense, his eyes burning, "Give me one night to think. We can start on this tomorrow," Rhys ran his hand over his face and leaned back in his chair, inhaling deeply and pinching the bridge of his now.

"The future of this continent, your home, is threatened, and you wish to speak of this tomorrow?" Amren scoffed, her silver eyes dancing under the faelight in warning.

Rhys rose from his seat, having had enough of the incessant drawls of war and death and offered Feyre his hand, a hand that she took willingly and stood at his side, fingers wrapped around his forearm and body drifting beside him, "Yes, I do. I cannot think when this is all you're speaking of, Amren. I am High Lord, and I need to think about how to spare my family and my people from this."

Instead of retorting in a way only she could, Amren contained her fury and buried it deep within her core, "Fine." Amren almost spat at his feet, but he paid no mind to it, he didn’t have the energy to go head-to-head with Amren that night, not when there was a much more pressing matter to attend to.

So, Rhys took Feyre to bed, and made sure that she was sound asleep before removing himself from her embrace. He threw an onyx silken shirt over his body but didn’t bother strewing up any of the buttons, content in allowing the night air to glide across his skin, he wasn’t sure how long he was going to able to appreciate its touch.

The High Lord of Night paced through the River House swiftly, not wanting to disturb any member of his family or alert them to his movements, and as soon as he stood on an ornately stunning balcony, the same he had stood on with Feyre that night on Starfall, did he unfurl his glorious wings and take to the skies, determined to reach the place that he hadn’t visited in over 200 years. A pool of starlight lay within a small valley within the mountains, not too far from the cabin but recluse enough for no one to be able to find it unless they knew that it lay there.

It had been too long since he had been there, but the all too familiar aura curled around him like a lost hound and pulled him down to it. The pool twinkled in greeting, reflecting the endless wonder of the sky above, and Rhys then remembered just how small it was, and just how long it had been since he peered into it or drifted his fingers along its rippling surface.

None other than he knew of what it truly was - not even his mate- it was a thin veil between worlds, a veil he used to send messages through often in hope that they’d find the one intended for, and he would wait for hours at a time for a whisper of a response. One time he had waited an entire day, desperate to hear her voice on the wind, hauntingly mesmerising like a siren to a sea captain, replying to his message with her usual level of warmth and understanding.

Then one day he just stopped visiting the place, the weight of her void had become too much to bear, too much that he had made the selfish decision to try and move on, to live his life in anyway that he could. Part of Rhys thought that she would have commended him for it, that she would have understood and that she was somewhere and knew of his strength, pain, and success of finding his mate.

But it had been so long. Rhys wasn’t sure if the pool was being monitored from her end, and he was terrified that his plea would fall upon deaf ears. But she was the only one who could help them, the only one powerful enough to give them any real chance of surviving. That power was the reason she had been sent away in the first place.

Rhys fell to his knees at the bank of the water, the contact of his markings without their twin flames in the snow causing the pool to ripple and hum with eons old yearning, and the stars within it began to glow, eager and ready to pull his words from his lips and sail them through the veil. He lowered himself to the surface, his face reflecting in the water showing him just how exhausted he had appeared, and the pool knew it, it knew of his desperation and rippled in a way that Rhys was sure it would split open at any given moment.

But, the water settled and shuddered, the gate between him and the one he thought of often still firmly in place.

"I'm sorry that it's been so long," he began, not knowing what to say to soften the blow but wanting to believe that she wasn't angry at him for it, and hoping that she too was thriving wherever her feet carried her. "If it means anything, I have missed you, and not a day has passed where I haven't thought of you," he fiddled with his fingers, his breath sending gentle wisps of steam rising into the air, "I found my mate. You'd like her, I think. She's my High Lady now, things have certainly changed."

"We are going to war. The Cauldron is in the grasp of our enemy and it threatens to devour the continent as we know it, and I fear that none of us with survive the destruction. I suppose I just wanted to speak to you, to say that I'm sorry I haven't visited in so long, and to let you know that I love you despite our distance. I may not survive what's to come, but I just wanted you to know that, and if there's any way you could come and save my ass then that would be greatly appreciated," he spoke the last words with a soft chuckle.

Rhys often thought of what she looked like, she had been only a girl when she was sent away, thrust through a portal with no way of knowing how to get back if she wished it. The day he heard her whisper through the pool had been the best day of his life, and on some level, he knew it still was in a sense. In those days, Rhys knew that she was alive, she may have been struggling but at least her heart was still beating and soul was raining havoc.

He wasn't sure of what he was expecting, he knew the chances of a reply were slim to nothing, but his heart still sank when the pool rippled with intoxicating silence.

Rhys waited another hour at least, but when the stars within the pool began to dim, he knew that it was time to leave. He rose to his feet, his soul solemn and heavy, and he couldn't bring himself to glance backward at the water as he ascended to the skies.

It was a pity really, for if he had turned around for but a moment, he would have seen the pool sparkle to life.

Azriel was curious.

It wasn't often that he found Rhys to be hiding something from him, or any of them for that matter. It was the beauty of their shared family, they knew all of the worst things about one another, from actions to thoughts, and nothing was counted as being too ferocious to accept.

But Azriel knew that Rhys was hiding something, his High Lord had been on edge from the moment he had returned to the River House after sneaking out that night, under the impression that no one had known of his time away. But Azriel knew everything, every single move was accounted for thanks to his shadows and his own keen hearing.

The Shadowsinger had merely thought that Rhys needed a moment to himself to think, but as the time stretched on, it seemed that Rhys was on a mission of sorts, and Azriel's suspicions became clear when he saw his brother the next morning, hair askew and eyes occasionally flickering through the window to a certain spot against the mountain face.

Rhys had worn the same expression for three days, not even Feyre could get him to talk to her about what it was that had him so concerned. But Azriel couldn't miss the longing in his eyes each time he passed by the window, like he was expecting someone to float up to the glass pane and solve all of their problems.

The day had come to meet with the High Lords, and the location had been set at the Dawn Court Palace, Thesan had always been the perfect mediator, besides, Cassian had been banned from Summer which automatically ruled that location from the list.

To Azriel's understanding, Rhys hadn't uttered a single word to anyone all morning, not even a single scold toward Cassian and Mor for their incessant bickering. It was worrying Feyre, Azriel noticed, he saw the emotion sketched into her furrowed brow each time she would try and speak to her mate to only be ignored. It seemed as though only Azriel and Feyre, and perhaps Amren, had noticed it.

The silence continued all the way to the Dawn Court, and Rhys' brooding only lightened when Helion appeared after his lacklustre greeting to Kallias and Viviane, spurring Rhys to remember the reason why they were there, what they had to do in order to give Prythian a fighting chance against Hybern and the Cauldron.

Helion jerked his chin toward Feyre, asking, "Does Tamlin know what she is?"

Rhys, his sadness wavering for a moment as they stood before the doors to the meeting chamber, spoke, "If you mean beautiful and clever, then yes - I think he does."

Azriel watched Helion closely, taking a tentative step toward his High Lord and Lady as the High Lord of Day sent Rhys a unimpressed flat glare, "Does he know that she is your mate, and High Lady?"

Ignoring Viviane's squeal, Rhys answered, picking a loose thread from his jacket and allowing it to float to the ground, "If he arrives then I suppose we will find out."

"I always liked you, Rhysand," Helion said after a lethally dark chuckle, knowing just how powerful he was in comparison to Rhys' brothers; he rolled his shoulders and glanced to Nesta, his gaze lingering whilst he enquired of who she was.

"She is my sister," Azriel didn't miss the muffled flinch that sliced across Rhys' face, "She will tell her story when the others are here."

Skittering steps against the pale golden stone pulled the attention of the Inner Circle toward Thesan who was surrounded by his highly alert Peregryns, beings who seemed a little too on edge.

"I hate to interrupt," Thesan drawled with wary eyes before they landed on Rhys, "But there is a woman I have never seen before in the meeting chamber, she says that you sent for her."

No one could miss how Rhys' entire body language changed from lax to urgent, his posture straightening and eyes boring into the doors of the chamber as though he could see through them; his breathing quickened, and it became apparent that whoever the woman was had been the cause of his ire for the last three days.

Begrudgingly, Rhys followed Thesan's order to wait for the others, Tarquin seemed less than pleased to be stood before Rhys, and it wasn't long until Beron and Eris rounded the corner of the corridor, sneering and spitting their horrid words, sending warning glares to Cassian and Azriel in particular for the scuffle between the two courts over the now High Lady of the Night Court and Lucien Vanserra.

Opening the doors, the woman lounging in the chair facing their entrance was not the person Rhys had been longing to see, Azriel deduced that much from the instant droop of his shoulders before he fully even saw her face. She sat in one of the deep rooted chairs, legs strewn over the arm and a dagger pricking into each one of her fingers, not hard enough to break the skin.

She was glad in a green dress that extenuated her long legs and her utterly wild scent had enveloped the room, a scent of lemon verbena and crackling embers, her blonde hair was well tamed and pinned backward in a loose yet luxurious ensemble, and power poured off of her in searing waves.

"And who exactly are you?"

A grin formed on her lips at the defensive question directed her way by Helion, and she rolled her eyes incredulously in response, sliding her legs from the arm and propping her elbows upon them, "Is that any way to greet a guest?" The tip of her dagger scratched into the wood of her seat, a curved and lethal weapon not of Prythian, "They really don't have any manners," she spoke loudly, directing the comment elsewhere.

Large hands clasped around the back of her seat and a flash of white hair reflected against the dying sunlight, "She did tell us that they were going to be apprehensive of us, Fireheart." The woman hummed, seemingly unphased by who she was trapped in a room with, anyone else would have been quaking in their boots at the knowledge of it.

"I didn't think she was being serious-"

"You haven't answered the question. Tell us who you are and why you're here, or-"

"Or what?" The woman's gold ringed eyes glistened, hungry and bristling with a flame Rhys, nor any of them, had ever witnessed. She rose from the seat, "You'll hurt us? I'd like to see you try."

Azriel stuck to Feyre and Rhys, sizing up the male with the tattoos in an ancient language littered down the side of his face, and that only seemed to make the male smirk, "Don't think about it. You wouldn't last a minute."

Tension simmered in the chamber, the High Lords of Prythian bar one faced the two strangers who looked much like them but were different in every single way imaginable.

Only when a click of heels entered the room followed by an exasperated sigh, did the two strangers grin, their offensive stance dissipating before Rhys' very eyes as they turned to make room for another.

"You'll come to rather enjoy Aelin's wit," a voice as mesmerising as the crashing summer waves called into the simmering silence, a voice so perfect that it had Rhys almost whimpering in disbelief as he took a step forward. Another woman appeared adorning a playful smirk, "And the vein in Rowan's forehead."

Azriel studied her, even his shadows couldn't stop themselves from peeking over his shoulders at the sound of her melodic voice, one so calming that it had them dancing toward it. She was by far one of the most incredible creatures Azriel had ever seen, dressed in an impeccable midnight blue gown that exposed her taut legs, allowing Azriel to see the two markings delicately placed below her knees, the twins to Rhys' own. Her hair was as dark as the night and swaying with each step, eyes as violet as the summer horizon that were lovingly teasing her companions, and she moved with a grace Azriel had never encountered in all of his years. A crown composed of onyx stone flowers and jewels curled around her head and glittered in the slowly decaying light, it was delicate and rested just over her ears, keeping her skin free from the imprint of it.

But it wasn't the crown nor the dress that had really stolen Azriel's eye, no, it was the pristine pair of feathered wings that were tucked neatly behind her back, not wings of an Illyrian, but wings of some form of angel Azriel presumed. They resembled the night sky, black and speckled with silver, and the longer Azriel focused on them, the more he struggled to believe that they weren't enriched feathers of pure starlight.

Rhys loosened a breath of disbelief, and his bottom lip quaked softly as he took her in, eyes trailing up her form and resting on her face, not believing who was stood before him but thanking the Mother all the same, "You came."

With her dress swaying in the breeze infiltrating the room from the open arches of the chamber, she faced Rhys and smiled sadly, taking a moment to drink him in just as he had with her before she answered, "You called."

"I didn't think you heard me," he took another step toward the curve of the pool, slowly but surely closing the gap between them, "You've grown."

"I've always heard you," their features were so strikingly similar, and Azriel was grasping onto any memory or mention of the female before his eyes, "And, if I hadn't have grown in over 500 years I'd be quite concerned."

Rhys laughed, throwing his head back and lips stretching into a smile of pure bliss, he didn't stop his steps this time, no, he allowed his feet to carry him all the way to her and bundled her up in his embrace, inhaling the scent of her deeply into his lungs "Hello sister."

Sister.

The two strangers, Aelin and Rowan, took a step back, serene smiles on their faces as they watched, seemingly understanding what it meant for the Rhys and the female, "Hello you," she replied, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tightly, "Someone mentioned that you have a mate now?"

Rhys pulled backward and sent her a look of wonderment, "I do. Feyre, darling? Would you?" He extended an arm out to her and Feyre wasted no time in joining him, "This is y/n. My sister."

"Well, half-sister, but we don't take notice of the specifics," she grinned at Rhys and softly nudged him, "It's an honour to meet you, Feyre Cursebreaker."

"How do you-"

She waved her hand dismissively, "I know many things."

"It's true, it's extremely annoying," Aelin spoke flatly nestled under Rowan's arm, the fire in her eyes softening.

Glancing about, Azriel became completely aware of just how much the beauty of y/n had captured the attention of all within the room, from the hue of her skin to the glossy black of her hair, from the curve of her jaw to the strikingly vibrant eyes that had stolen Azriel's breath from the moment the light had hit them.

She was undeniably Rhys' sister, but Azriel was sure that Rhys had only ever had one, and she died years ago.

"I'm sorry, but how?" Cassian couldn't help but ask, drawing the attention of everyone to him, he glanced to Azriel who shrugged, confirming that he knew nothing of the female before their very eyes.

Y/N smiled softly, her eyes dimming slightly and promised, "My," she looked to Rhys for a moment, "Our story-" her gaze returned to Cassian, but not before gently floating over Azriel and widening slightly, "-is one for a different day. Prythian is in danger and you need help, I'm here to provide it."

"What about us?"

"One more word Aelin and I'll send you back home, I'm sure Aedion would love to take your place."

Aelin gasped, "You don't mean that."

"Try me. See where you land this time round."

Aelin grimaced, recounting the time y/n had shoved her through one of her fancy test portals to only land in the foulest smelling swamp she had ever experienced. She kept her lips sealed and moved to the seat where she had been sat minutes before with a forced smile, prompting the rest of the occupants of the chamber to do the same.

The Shadowsinger moved with the rest of the Inner Circle, finding his place beside his High Lord and Lady, which was just a stones throw away from y/n, and he found himself completely lost in the scent of a brewing storm, his shadows unwinding from his body as it flooded his lungs and fighting through invisible storm clouds in order to brush against her for even a moment, to taste her skin and shudder at the power laced within it.

Crossing her leg over the other, Azriel watched y/n recline into the comfort of the seat, doing his best to not make his awe so obvious whilst she took a moment to gaze upon every person in the room, her eye lingering on a certain Autumn heir with a level of intrigue before she spoke with a feline grin, "So, you're all on the verge of death. Tell me more."

Author's Note

Trying a different writing style with this one - let me know what you think x

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winisayswhat · 3 months ago

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💗You and your future spouse's 1st valentine's day date PAC💗

Disclaimer: This is general reading . It may or may not resonate . If reading doesn't resonate let it fly and choose another pile or simply there were no messages for you through this reading 😊 Take the reading lightly as nothing's set in stone until you believe so🕊️

This reading a collab between me and this cutie @tarotbyjam24 💗

don't forget to check her account !

Pile 1 by @tarotbyjam24

Your first valentine's day date might possibly be a 50-50 date like you couples splitting your bills or it could be like you both are always so busy so it took effort from both sides to have a valentine's day date together finally. It's gonna be a very planned and calculated date . You guys might also not show your truest self to your spouse on this date because either of you or both can have your guards up even though you're married. I also feel on this date you could also fight with eachother 😭 probably because of hiding something. I see 'hide' word is so prominent here . I wonder how you guys are so mysterious to each other . Mostly I see you guys could be trying local street foods , trying drinks here n there. Although I feel you both will be dressed perfectly for a date to bring the date date vibe . Having drinks on this could help both of you to loosen up a bit and open up to each other . This date will be a start for something new probably you could think of starting family or something else . This pile seems like both of you love eachother but also don't show it and hide it very well that you both seem to each other like enemies ✨ that's all pile 1 I hope you liked reading this pile happy valentine's day and bless you all 🎀💗

Pile 2 by @tarotbyjam24

Your first valentine's day date is gonna be amazing I swear . They'll make you feel like a prince\princess . Almost worshipping you and giving all the power . I also feel your spouse will be older than you . So ofc they gonna spoil you it's natural to them and you gonna enjoy it . They'll surely take you on various activities for this date like taking some fun classes in day , eating local foods , taking you on shopping, then dinner night at a perfect place probably by river or seaside . This date will grow more love between each other . I get the vibe of ' material girl ' from this pile and I support you for this lol . You go guys . You deserve it all . Now from another perspective if we see this than your spouse could be bit more domineering in this date like those ceo and their girlfriends where ceo likes to eat at three Michelin star hotel and you enjoy your ramen and drinks but you're forced to go on the three Michelin star hotel date lol. I feel you'll act like a disciplined kid when in real you're so spoiled 🍃 and you just don't listen to anyone but you'll have to listen and follow them .that's all pile 2 I hope you liked reading this pile happy valentine's day and bless you all 🎀💗

Pile 3

Okay, babes, this date is going to be mind-blowing . Like, expect some serious sparks flying, and that's just not from the table. The man or woman you're going on a date with has a provider energy. It's like a very fancy place, with a fancy setup. This person is jacked for sure. They're serious and will bring lots of stability and maturity into your life. They're the real deal, honey .The Two of Cups is all about harmony and balance. So, expect some beautiful, heartfelt connections. You'll feel fulfilled. This place feels like a rooftop restaurant with dim lights, and you're drop-dead gorgeous . You're dressed up, drop-dead gorgeous that day. Oh la la, that person is going gaga all over you! They're very chivalrous. They're going to spend all their money on you without thinking twice. You'll feel luxurious, wealthy with them This person is a provider, wild, and dressed to impress . Both of you are excited to meet each other and already know you're the "it" deal. It's like you both were meant to be together, like two puzzle pieces . You both love, value, and cherish each other. It's like you both have manifested each other. The God has led you both to each other .This person is very straightforward, and whatever they say is going to be very real. They'll be honest with you, and you'll love that about them . They're the type of person who'll have many surprises in store. If they take you out for dinner, they'll make sure there's music, a big bouquet of roses, jewelry as gifts, your favorite champagne, food, and good photos to be clicked . Oh la la, this person is also a great photographer! Your Instagram feed is sorted ! Every time this person walks into a room, people look at them and go, "Oh my God, who is that?" They drip with money and luxury 💸. This person is going to be so nurturing and caring. Expect some serious TLC from this person, honey! It's going to be wild, but guess what? This is just the beginning. The journey is much more exciting and spicy! Don't forget to check out my valentine's tarot sale

Pile 4

The ambiance is romantic, probably at a favorite restaurant or spot. The air is filled with a sweet scent, and you both feel harmonious and in tune with each other. You're thinking about how lucky you are to be in this relationship!Conversation on the date is all bout goals, future plans, and excitement for what's to come. You both are magnetic, high-achieving individuals who are planning out your adrenaline-fueled life together! Eye contact is intense, and you both feel a deep sense of connection and understanding.This is a couple who will be the life of the party, so in love and into each other that they won't even notice what's going on around them! You're best friends, despite being different, and you complement each other perfectly.Don't forget to check out my valentine's tarot sale

#future spouse reading #future spouse #tarot #tarotblr #tarot reading #tarot pac #pick a card

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yzzyhee · 7 months ago

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lucky three — sjy & psh

bf!jake x fem!bodied yn x bf!sunghoon

warnings: established poly relationships, mlm ( 1 kiss sorry 🧌 ), kisses? idk just fluff mostly (98%) , maybe petnames?? not proofread, anything else lmk!

synopsis: on a rainy afternoon, you and your boyfriends realise how lucky the three of you are to have found each other

wc: 1.4k

a/n: idk guys its just my bday… its been raining for the past two days and i badly need this to happen to me + what aj wrote in her guess who fic 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 read it now.

jake’s arm drapes lazily around your shoulders, while sunghoon’s head rests comfortably on your lap. the three of you fit together as if you have been carved out from the same piece of clay. nothing ever feels incomplete when you are all together.

"tell me again why we decided to stay in today?" jake asks, his voice low but with a playful lilt as he tilts his head toward you. he traces lazy patterns with his fingers along your arm, the touch sending electric warmth through your skin. he is always tactile — always touching, as if afraid you will slip through his fingers.

"because it's raining, and i love the sound of it," you reply softly, your hand brushing through sunghoon’s raven-black hair. he closes his eyes, his lips tugging upward slightly, clearly enjoying the soothing motion of your fingers. sunghoon is quieter — thoughtful; his affection comes in soft waves, almost unnoticeable until you are pulled under and engulfed by the depth of his love.

"you love the rain, but jake hates it," sunghoon finally speaks, his eyes still closed. his voice deep, resonating through the quiet atmosphere of the room.

" i don’t hate it. i just don’t love it like she does," jake teases back, glancing at sunghoon before turning his gaze to you. his eyes, always full of light, sparkle with a mischievous glint.

it has been like this for a while now — your lives intertwined so naturally. your relationship feels like a melody, each of you three contributing with a different note and yet when you’re together, you create the perfect harmony. sunghoon brings calmness and stability, a quiet strength. jake is the warmth, the laughter, the chaos and you’re the centre, grounding them both in a way they never realise they need.

you shift slightly, pulling your legs under you and leaning back into jake’s chest. you sigh, contentment washing over your face like the rain outside.

"you know," you say softly, "i don’t think I've ever been this happy."

jake's fingers stop their movement as he leans down to press a soft kiss against your temple. "that’s because you’ve got both of us," he whispers against your skin, his breath warm.

sunghoon opens his eyes at this, a small smirk playing on his lips. "he’s not wrong," he says, shifting so that he can sit up and face you. his eyes meet yours, dark and intense, but filled with so much love it nearly takes your breath away. "you’re our everything."

you feel a lump form in your throat at his words. it’s moments like this — when they are so open, so raw with their emotions — that remind you just how deep your connection goes. the world outside doesn’t understand it;

some people judge, others whisper behind your backs. but none of that matters when it is just the three of you, like now, tangled in each other’s arms, completely content with the love you have found.

"i still remember the first time we told you," jake says suddenly, a soft laugh escaping his lips. "i thought for sure you’d reject the idea."

"reject you? never," you respond, shaking your head "you know i could never say no to either of you."

sunghoon raises an eyebrow, playful skepticism in his eyes. "you hesitated, though. for a second."

"i didn’t hesitate," you insist, but there is a teasing tone in your voice. "i was just…surprised, that’s all. it’s not every day you realise two guys you love are willing to share a relationship with each other and with you."

"and you never looked back," jake adds with a grin, his eyes filled with pride. "you belong with us."

sunghoon’s hand finds yours, gently pulling it into his lap, thumb tracing the back of your hand. his touch is always soothing, like an anchor in a storm. "we belong with you, too," he corrects, his voice tender.

your relationship is unconventional — some would even say complicated. but it isn’t for you. for you, sunghoon and jake it’s something as natural as breathing. there are no jealousy-fueled fights, no insecurities you haven’t already talked through. communication has always been your greatest strength. yes, it isn’t always easy, but you make it work because none of you can imagine life any other way.

"you two are everything to me," you say softly, looking between them. "i mean it. i don’t care what anyone else says."

jake's hand tightens on your shoulder, pulling you even closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "we’re yours. always."

sunghoon nods, his expression soft but serious. "we’re in this for the long haul, yn. you know that, right?"

"i know," you whisper, your heart swelling with emotion. "and i wouldn’t have it any other way."

the rain outside seems to slow, softening into a light drizzle as if mirroring the quiet calm that has settled over the room. jake’s eyes meet sunghoon’s, a silent understanding passing between them before jake speaks.

jake’s voice is barely above a whisper, but it carries all the weight of the moment. “come here,” he says, his fingers lightly tilting your chin to face him.

shift slightly, your heart racing with a mix of anticipation and love that bubbles beneath the surface. the connection between the three of you is palpable, the air thick with unspoken emotions. jake’s lips brush against yours in the softest of kisses — tender, almost hesitant. it’s sweet, gentle and yet it sends shivers down your spine, the kind that makes you melt into him even further.

sunghoon watches quietly, his dark eyes studying the two of you with a calm intensity. there’s no jealousy, only a quiet reverence for the love you share. after a moment, he reaches out, his hand resting on the side of your face, guiding you toward him. his lips meet yours next, the kiss deeper, slower. where jake’s kiss was light and playful, sunghoon’s is grounding — steady, like him. his thumb caresses your cheek as he pulls back, resting his forehead against yours for a moment, both of you breathing in sync.

"you’re so beautiful," sunghoon murmurs, his voice deep and quiet.

jake presses a kiss to your shoulder before leaning back into the couch, watching the two of you with a soft smile. “i could stay like this forever,” he says, his voice breaking the quiet but only adding to the warmth surrounding all three of you. “just the three of us, like this.”

you let out a soft laugh, leaning into the warmth of jake’s chest and resting a hand on sunghoon’s knee. “we really do fit together, don’t we?”

sunghoon nods in agreement, his fingers running absentmindedly along the hem of your shirt, a comforting gesture. “perfectly,” he says softly, almost as if he’s still amazed by how seamlessly you all connect.

jake chuckles, his hand slipping down to intertwine with yours. “we’re like puzzle pieces. weird, unconventional puzzle pieces, but we fit.” his grin widens, eyes sparkling mischievously. “and no one else can figure it out but us.”

the three of you share a soft laugh, the kind that fills the room with a warmth even the rain can’t dampen. outside, the storm has softened to a gentle drizzle, the rhythmic patter of raindrops on the window creating a peaceful lullaby.

sunghoon leans in again, this time pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before turning to jake. there’s a pause, an unspoken invitation hanging between them before jake smiles and leans forward. their kiss is unhurried, filled with a mutual tenderness and understanding that never fails to make your heart swell. when they part it’s with a soft sigh, their foreheads resting together for just a moment longer.

you watch them, feeling a deep sense of contentment settle in your chest, you’ve never felt more at peace, more loved than in moments like these — wrapped in the arms of the two people who mean the world to you.

“let’s stay like this a little longer,” you suggest quietly, not ready to break the spell of the lazy afternoon.

jake chuckles softly, pulling you closer to him. “i’m not going anywhere.”

sunghoon hums in agreement, his thumb still tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. “we’re right where we’re supposed to be.”

and with that, the three of you settle back into the quiet comfort of each other’s embrace, the rain outside fading into the background as your world becomes nothing but the love and warmth that you share.

it’s moments like these that remind you just how lucky you are — to have found not just one, but two souls that complete you in ways you never thought possible.

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