#straight up uncorking it

[corvid-stan-account]

Oh my god guys they put pingus in hole....

[khioneee]

simon is one of the girls (sort of)

boyfriend!simon was always invited to girls’ night—not out of obligation, but because everyone genuinely wanted him there. he fit into the group effortlessly, his quiet, protective presence becoming a staple at every gathering. whether it was lounging around in pajamas with face masks on or heading out for a wild night at the club, boyfriend!simon was part of the plan.

if it was girls’ night, boyfriend!simon was there. need someone to open a bottle of wine? he had it uncorked in seconds. carrying heavy bags for a night in? already done. if the group was heading to the club, simon was always the first to volunteer to drive everyone home safely at the end of the night.

boyfriend!simon never overstepped, but he wasn’t a silent bystander, either. when conversations got lively, he’d chime in with the perfect sarcastic remark or sly observation, earning a mix of giggles and mock glares. and when a topic turned to relationship drama, he always gave it to you and your friends straight.

“dump the bloke,” he’d say bluntly, not even looking up from his drink. “if i hear his name one more time, i’m blocking his number myself.”

your friends always groaned, but soon enough, they started messaging him directly for advice.

out on the town, boyfriend!simon was the designated protector. no one had to ask—he was always at the edge of the group, watching for anything suspicious. he made sure no one lingered too close, and if someone tried to chat up one of your friends unwantedly, simon’s presence alone was enough to send them packing. if they didn’t get the hint, simon would step forward, voice low and deadly calm: “you’ve got somewhere else to be, mate.” that always did the trick.

despite his intimidating size, boyfriend!simon never felt out of place during your quiet nights in. he sat comfortably among blankets and pillows, scrolling on his phone as face masks dried and reality tv droned in the background. your friends teased him mercilessly about it, but he didn’t mind.

“you’re basically one of us now, si,” one of them joked once.

he gave a small shrug, not looking up. “just don’t expect me to paint my bloody nails, yeah?”

with boyfriend!simon around, you and your friends could relax fully, knowing he’d take care of everything—from heavy bags to creeps at the bar. he wasn’t just there for you—he was there for everyone you cared about, making sure nothing went wrong on his watch.

one night, after everyone had left and it was just the two of you, you leaned into him, curious. “why are you so sweet to my friends?”

boyfriend!simon didn’t miss a beat, brushing a strand of hair from your face as he answered softly, “because they mean a lot to you—and you mean everything to me.”

an. i desperately need a man like him.

[iiwontgiveuponmilkk]

Amortentia | F.W.

summary: fred and george open their shop and she's late to the grand opening. she finds ginny and hermoine standing by the love potions. she uncorks one to make the girls feel better, but she's shocked by what she smells.

word count: 1523

warnings: fluff, one mention of drinking

notes: since this was winning the poll, here you are ;)

Her day did not start how she hoped it would. She had taken the day off, but the world had other plans. She had been called into work at 3AM, unable to say no. She told her supervisor that she absolutely had to leave before nine, but she ended up being there until a little after ten. She had rushed home after her shift. She intended on going straight to the shop, but she looked like hell. She hurried to get changed and make herself look presentable to the public. Seven hours at the hospital had left her hair a mess, and it wasn’t easy to tame. She ended up pulling it back in a braid, smoothing her hair the best she could. She didn’t bother trying to cover the dark circles under her eyes, it was pointless. She had stopped for a coffee on her way to the shop, needing as much caffeine as she could to stay awake. She hurried down the sidewalk, practically jogging. She grinned when she saw the shop, the boys really weren’t ones for anything subtle. Walking into the joke shop was like something out of a movie. It was lively from the second the twins had opened the doors. She had been caught up, not able to make it right when they opened. She found herself wishing she was here when they opened the doors. It was almost ironic how magical the whole scene was. She promised her best friends that she would be there as soon as possible. She brought her coffee to her lips, forcing herself to only sip it. If the caffeine couldn’t keep her awake, the energy in this shop definitely could. It was buzzing with life and laughter. 

 She smiled to herself as she looked around. Kids were running around the shop, looks of awe on their faces. Teens were eyeing candies that would definitely get them out of class. She forced herself not to shudder at the many memories of the prototypes for all of those candies, and the time she accidentally ate a fainting fancy. It took mere seconds for her to hit the ground, yelling at Fred and George when she woke up. She found herself overwhelmed by a sense of joy for the twins as she looked around trying to find them in the crowd. The shop was packed, she figured it would be. She was so proud of both of them. She finally spotted the two, buzzing around the shop, talking to almost everyone as they zipped around. She figured the twins would find her soon or later, not wanting to interrupt them as they hastled a group of what looked to be first or second years. 

She spotted Hermoine and Ginny at a display of what looked to be love potions. She had to hand it to the twins, the display would easily draw anyone in. It was gorgeous. She made her way through the crowd and greeted the two girls. "What are you two up to?" She asked, picking up a heart shaped vial, turning it over in her hand. "We're just looking." Ginny mumbled, her cheeks slightly pink. She let it slide, already knowing what they were doing. She knew Ginny had a crush on Harry, and she knew that Hermoine was pining after Ron, even if she would deny it. "Well, I'll just look, too." She winked, uncorking the vial. “I’m sure they won’t mind.” She brought the vial up to her nose, freezing at the smell. Vanilla, pumpkin juice, floo powder, and cedarwood. She corked the vial, slowly putting it back on the display. She looked up to the two girls, hoping her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. Ginny gave her a knowing smirk, but Hermoine looked clueless. “What did-?” Hermoine started to ask, but was cut off by the twins. She felt her cheeks burn a little hotter, causing Hermoine to smirk. That partially answered her question.

"Hello ladies. Love potions, eh?" The twins said in unison. Her cheeks burned as she met Fred's eyes. Oh, for merlin's sake. "They really do work!" Again,  in unison. The two girls wandered away, putting the potions back. George was quickly distracted by a group of young wizards, leaving her and Fred alone. She tried her best to avoid his eyes, hoping her blush would fade. "I'm sure you won't be needing that anyway." Fred slung an arm over her shoulder, "Glad you're here." He gave her a small squeeze. She leaned into him, fiddling with her sleeves. "Quite honestly, I might. You seem to be quite thick headed." She bit her lip, glancing around the shop. The silence that fell over them was deafening in the loud shop. “Uh, anyway, I do have to get back. I took an hour so I could come down.” She finally looked up at Fred, only to find him already looking at her. “What time are you off?” She noticed a faint shade of pink across his freckled cheeks. Maybe he wasn’t that thick headed. “6ish? I’m covering for Lottie so she can get some rest. We’ve been beyond short.” She fiddled with the hem of her sleeve, trying her best not to seem nervous or utterly embarrassed that she not-so-subtly told Fred she liked him. “We’ll be done around 7. Can I stop by?” Fred gave her a hopeful look. She fought the smile tugging at her lips. “Since when do you ask before you just show up? You know you’re always welcome.” She gently nudged him with her shoulder. “Sooo, is that a yes?”

She arrived home earlier than she thought she would, Lottie came back after a ‘four hour power nap’. She took the extra time to relax. A long, hot shower followed by a glass of wine and her favourite satin slip. She had contemplated not wearing pyjamas, but she did anyway. If it were anyone besides Fred stopping by, she would’ve grabbed a jumper and leggings, but Fred had seen her in a lot of scandalous situations over the years. She was curled up under a blanket on her sofa about to doze off when a knock sounded at her door. She reached for her wand, haphazardly flicking it, hoping it would actually open the door. She heard the door shut, followed by footsteps coming up the stairs. “I’m offended, couldn’t greet me at the door?” Fred asked, feigning a hurt tone. She pushed herself up at the sound of paper crinkling. She gave Fred a confused look, but a smile graced her lips when she noticed exactly what he was holding. “How rude of me! I didn’t know you were bringing a poorly wrapped gift.” She teased, patting the spot next to her. She watched Fred as he moved across the room. She reached out, tugging on his coat as he crossed in front of her. “Take your bloody coat off.” She murmured. A small laugh came from him. “Hold this then, bossy.” He pulled his coat off, laying it over the back of her sofa before sitting next to her. His hand clasped over hers as she went to shake the paper package. “Just open it.” He laughed. “And I’m the bossy one.” She mumbled, narrowing her eyes at him. Fred leaned back, throwing his arm along the back of the sofa behind her. She pulled the twine and began unfolding the paper. She felt her cheeks heat up when she saw what he had wrapped up. She took the heart shaped vial in her hand, turning her whole body to Fred. “You’re a bloody idiot.” She gave him an exasperated look. “Merlin, read the label, love.” He laughed. She let out a huff, looking down at the label. The original label had been peeled off and was replaced with Fred’s handwriting. The label had been replaced with a description of her perfume, the smell of her shampoo, the tea she always drank, and what could only be described as the smell of St. Mungos when you walked in the doors. “You could’ve just got me flowers.” She mumbled, peeking up at the red-haired man sitting next to her. “Or, I don’t know, asked me on a date anytime in the past two years.” 

“You said you might need it.” He teased, his arm falling around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. She leaned her head against him, pulling her blanket over his lap. He pulled her closer against him. “Do I?” She whispered, turning the vial over in her hands. Fred pulled away from her, bringing his hand up to her face. His fingers curled under her chin, gently pulling her gaze to his. His thumb brushed over her bottom lip as he gave her a small smile. “If I ever say yes, I want you to force me to drink that.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. Her eyes fluttered shut as she kissed him back. She moved his lips against his, reaching up to tangle her fingers into his hair. She pulled back, resting her forehead against his. 

[fanaticsnail]

Drinking Drabbles

Masterlist Here

Themes: Two of scenarios with a few one piece characters x reader, gn reader, suggestive in some, canon typical violence, angst, fluff, romance, friendship. Drink responsibly!

Characters: Rosinante/Corazon, Mihawk, Buggy, Sir Crocodile, Koby, Smoothie, Fukaboshi, Vivi

Notes: Trying to get my sparkle back. Expressing gratitude to Discordant's OP OC discord server for hanging out and suggesting characters for me to try for. Love the characters, and I adore writing for new ones to me.

Drinking with Rosinante / Corazon

Looks like: sharing a glass of wine over dinner, hearing the uproar of laughter at the head of the table - his brother cackling at a joke he told. Sharing subtle glances, pouring a new glass for one another while stealing a moment where your fingers brush together while reaching for the same bottle.

Also looks like: Sharing rum in the cold, willing your bodies to keep warm while caring for the sick child in the snow. The burn ignites in your throat, but the heat is makes the night pass in a more comfortable fluidity. The only blanket available to you is tucking the child in, but you both make do by sitting beneath the dark cloak. Shrouded in feathers, sharing those touches you longed for back at the dining table, the rum feels more like home now than that wine ever did.

Drinking with Mihawk

Looks like: a bottle of his private reserve label, uncorked by a methodological approach of a saber to the glass lip. Expertly decanted, rested for the appropriate amount of time, and shown how to enjoy the glass properly. He does not invite your glasses to touch, for fear it would disturb the wine with such a crude approach, but he does indicate for you to drink it with him in unison.

Also looks like: drinking straight from the bottle neck, poured by his hands and coaxed back into your lips by cradling your head and ensuring you don't spill a drop, before doing the same for himself. Anything to get through the voice of the clown at the table. He will have you closer to him for moral support, and will enjoy ensuring you are both equally topped up while glaring at Buggy for the duration of your stay with Cross-Guild.

Drinking with Buggy

Looks like: Something fruity, decorated with an outrageous amount of umbrellas and shaved ice dancing at the brim. It's too sweet, too bubbly, and too much all at once. Paired with a nasally cackle, lively music, linking his arms with yours and dancing a jig on the table, drink sloshing from the side, everything is perfect for the clown: the star of the show.

Also looks like: Aiding him to drink straight spirits as he sits on the bathroom floor, icing the bruises he's received at the hands of Crocodile and Mihawk while he openly sobs and apologizes for looking pathetic. A quiver to his lips, the swell in his bruised eye, he expresses his gratitude by silently whispering it as intimately as he can to you.

Drinking with Crocodile

Looks like: a circular short glass with a small cubic stone cooled by frost, drinking the most expensive and lush whiskey to ever be produced. Not dampening the flavor with water falling from ice, simply cooling it to enjoy over the palate. Everything is lush, filled with luxury, and likely paired with a cigar as he gazes at you with a predatory look in his beady expression.

Also looks like: Sneaking it in your clothes and fishing it out once below the cells in Impel Down, feeding him through prison bars and apologizing that it's not his favorite. He's looking up like it is his lifeline and an angel is offering him their tether to the great beyond. Those eyes that once looked like a predator on the prowl now humble themselves before you as he sits on his calves and drinks messily from the glass lip of the rum bottle.

Drinking with Koby

Looks like: Sitting at the table surrounded by Alvida Pirates, letting the pink-haired ‘chore boy’ fill your tankard from the barrel and giving him praise for it. Alvida chastises you for expressing gratitude to the smaller pirate, but you hush her with a crass joke and continue to dote on him while you drink. You offer him a sip from your glass that he throws back with practiced precision, causing you to laugh with him and invite him to sit with you for the remainder of the evening.

Also looks like: Bound in chains, on your knees and contained within the brig, a pink haired captain, once pirate from long ago, offers you a kindness of a drink while transferring you to Impel Down. He was not as quiet as he once was, but his kindness was still present as you knew it to be. You humored him by drinking all he offered you with your hands tied behind your back, as submissive as he was all those years ago. Your gratitude is on your lips, smiling as a drop is collected and wiped by the pad of Koby's thumb. He utters apologies, and you reassure him that you won't take it personally.

Drinking with Smoothie

Looks like: Sitting at the table, surrounded by her siblings, enjoying something a little on the sweeter side. Something mixed in with juices, a precious concoction that paired beautifully with the sweets offered at the table. Brushing glasses with one another, your eyes meet hers and she gifts you a rare, soft smile reserved for when he desires to showcase her sweetness.

Also looks like: Draining the life out of her enemies, blood gushing over her full lips and spilling down her chin, she bows her head to you and gives you a mischievous grin. Pulling up a cloth, you press the material to her lips and remove all blemishes of fluids from the human she drank from. You would rather watch than participate in this brew, but she enjoys watching you squirm as she presses her lips delicately to yours soon thereafter.

Drinking with Fukaboshi

Looks like: A room filled with tension, barely a look shared between you while negotiations between humans, mink, and fishfolk sit and discuss how to progress in a proper manner. Once decided, all raise their sake bowls and salute them with one another. Finally making eye contact with the mer Fishman, you both share a glance before pressing the sake to your lips and draining it of their contents to solidify your fresh alliance.

Also looks like: Tucked beneath the figurehead of the vessel you served aboard, sharing a moment with one another in the silence. All softness, all secretive, all in a world carved just for you, you both enjoy a swap of culture. He, a bottle from his homeland, you, a bottle from your own. Discussing the differences in textures and flavors, you both feel a pull in your chests as the sun slowly slips over the horizon.

Drinking with Vivi

Looks like: Sitting around a table, shrouded in darkness and surrounded by the vapors of sour cigar smoke, and raising your glass to your glorious leader a the head of the table. Bananawani in the corner, several of the members strike up conversation, and you and Miss Wednesday are no different. There was something in her tone and demeanor that seemed out of place, but you paid it no mind because you had secrets of your own. Drinking and cringing a little at the burn, you both drank and discussed the various interweavings of Baroque Works and where your missions would take you next.

Also looks like: An uprageous celebration for the return of Arabasta’s princess, drinks of all bubbles and honeys swirling in a variety of glassware. Watching as she flawlessly navigates the room full of her supporters, she gives you a look like the one not so dissimilar from your years serving together in Baroque Works. Catching you in the corner, she brushes her glass against yours with a hidden smile peaking at the corner of her lip: a silent promise that she will keep you by her side all the remaining of her days as ruler.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @ane5e

[averagelivingbeings]

Hot steamy broth

Bottom afab Jiaoqiu/Top amab Reader

You and Jiaoqiu first indulge in an aphrodisiac-laced stew he cooked up, before enjoying each other’s bodies.

Word Count: 3270

Tags: Afab Jiaoqiu, possibly ooc Jiaoqiu, xianxia AU, Jiaoqiu is your disciple and cook, Jiaoqiu is a little bitch, aphrodisiac, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, size difference, lots of fluids, light dom/sub, so much teasing, cunnilingulus, blow jobs, squirting, belly bulge

AFAB language used for Jiaoqiu

——————————————

“Ah, you’re here, master.” The pink-haired Huli Jing greeted you with a polite smile. In front of him, a savoury, creamy brew was boiling and bubbling gently in its metal pot over the flame. “Apologies, the soup isn’t finished yet.”

You gave him a polite nod, as you sat down at the table and straightened your robe. “Don’t worry about it, A-Qiu.” His tail raised up and swished happily at the pet-name. “What are we having tonight?”

“A creamy stew with coconut milk and bamboo strips.” Jiaoqiu paused, as he reached for something on the spice shelf, his hand hovering above a vial with a pink powder. His ears twitched in what you recognised as giddy anticipation. “… I wasn’t sure about your mood tonight, master, so I didn’t put anything in yet.”

You blinked at him, keeping your face and posture straight, as if he was just a child that thought its plan to trick its parents was exceptionally smart. “I don’t mind, A-Qiu. Put whatever you’d like into our stew. Then we can dine together.”

A blush clearly crept onto Jiaoqiu’s face, as the light of the red flames danced off of it. This was the first time you had suggested dining together, as even though your disciple usually cooked for you, you always ate separately. He wrapped his fingers tightly around the bottle with the pink powder and uncorked it, before pouring a generous amount of it into the stew and mixing it in. Almost immediately a strong, alluringly sweet scent filled the small room. You heard both your and Jiaoqiu’s breathing picked up, as a slight lightheadedness overcame you, when he placed two small bowls on the table filled with the stew.

A bit impatiently, Jiaoqiu sat down at the other side of the table and smiled at you. “Enjoy your meal, master~”

Setting down your folding fan, you smiled at him and placed your hands at the side of the bowl. “With you, A-Qiu.”

He returned the wicked smile and mirrored your actions, his twitching ears and swaying tail betraying his calm facade. “Of course.” The Huli Jing lifted his bowl, eagerly watching you do the same.

You held strict eye contact with him, feeling your disciple shrink into submission in excitement under his master’s watchful gaze, as both of you placed your bowls at your lips and began drinking up the steaming, hot liquid. It burned your throat like liquid fire, the sweet, sexy taste of the aphrodisiac Jiaoqiu added completely overpowering the spicy stew’s original flavour. You gulped it all down anyway, feeling the heat from the food settle in your stomach and the warmth from the aphrodisiac spread through your entire body until both master and disciple were a flushed, sweaty mess.

Jiaoqiu lost his cool far quicker and in a less dignified manner than you did, claws audibly digging into his clothed thighs, which he tried to subtly rub together. “M-Master…”, he whispered, lust written all over his flushed face and his tail impatiently swaying back and forth.

“What is it, A-Qiu?” You innocently tilted your head to the side with a gentle smile, hands on your lap to use the wide sleeves to hide your raging boner. Compared to your disciple, your breathing was still even and calm, as Jiaoqiu rose up from his knees to lean over the table.

“I want you, master~!”, he panted out, his breath smelled sweet and alluring, just like the aphrodisiac. His pupils were blown wide with lust and he stared at you, as if he was willing to pounce at any moment.

“Oh? Does my dearest head disciple not have any self-control to wait for his master to be ready?” You sighed in disappointment, seeing his tail flick in frustration, you both knew you were more than ready for action.

“No, master. Your disciple is very, very impatient tonight~”, Jiaoqiu practically purred, as he supported himself on the table and arched his back, showing off his subtle curves and flexibility. “And he’s afraid that tonight he just can’t resist~”

You observed him push the empty bowls away and lay down on the table to crawl over it and closer to you, resisting the urge to just grab him and rip his clothes off. You remained still though, letting him have his foreplay. “Then he should remember that he’s going to be severely punished for his misbehaviour later.”

“That’s a matter for later~ Mghhh~” By now Jiaoqiu has reached you and gotten up on all fours on the table to hungrily press his lips against yours. “Hahhh, nghhh~”

You willingly opened your mouth, letting his sweet tongue lap at your palate, not bothering to move in the slightest, as he climbed onto your lap. He threw his arms around your neck and started grinding his hips against yours or rather, against your hands still folded over your lap. Even through the multiple layers of clothing separating your skin from Jiaoqiu’s, you could feel the wet patch growing between his legs.

“Really, master?”, Jiaoqiu sighed into your kiss and pouted a little, his devious hand having found their way past yours to the leaking tip of your dick. “All dripping and hard, yet still no reaction? So stiff and stubborn.”

You just smiled. “You should know that it takes a lot more for me to just give in to your raunchy little games.”

“Tch. All this resistance for what?” Using your shoulders as support, Jiaoqiu lifted his hips up high enough to grind his clothed cunt against your tip. “You always enjoyed it in the end.”

“Mgh-!” You felt your resolve crumbling, he was definitely getting better at this game of riling each other up to a good fuck. “I’m sure you’ve figured it out already, clever as you are~” Your dick twitched in delight, when a slight frown flashed across Jiaoqiu’s face, showing that he very much has not figured it out yet.

“Hmp-!” With a light huff, he put his palm on your broad chest and pushed against it. Deciding to indulge him, you complied and let Jiaoqiu push you to the ground to lay comfortably on the hard wooden floor. You watched him hike up your robe, so your huge dick was visibly tenting your loose pants. Seeing you move your hands away to allow him access to it, the Huli Jing smiled deviously. “Oh, so that’s what it’s like, hm? Master just wants to see how far I’d go for him?” His smile grew into a nearly manic grin. “Well, I can just say, I don’t have any limits~” With that, he pulled down his robe, revealing the bare, creamy skin of his toned shoulders, the supple mounds of his tits and his beautifully soft abs, until the robe completely fell off of his body along with the sash tying it in place.

“What a beautiful disciple I have~” With a hum, you shamelessly reached up to squeeze Jiaoqiu’s sides, your hand dwarving his fairly broad build. You felt his tummy move beneath your fingers, as he shifted and panted, skin unbearably hot from arousal.

“Ahh~” He squirmed, when you placed both hands on his waist, your thumbs and forefingers nearly touching around it. “You act like this is the first time you see me nude, master.”

“And does that mean I must stop appreciating my disciple’s beauty?” You loosened your grip a little, allowing him to shimmy out of his pants and throw them to the side along with his shoes.

“I suppose not… Mghh…~” A light moan left Jiaoqiu’s lips, as he touched his lower belly, rubbing his crotch right above his throbbing clit. You slid the tips of your calloused fingers over the smooth skin of his hips over to his crotch, flattening two underneath his pussy for him to grind against. “Anghh~” Jiaoqiu moaned, rutting against your fingers, as he reached down to undo your sash and discard the pesky piece of clothing behind him.

“You’re so wet… And I’m barely even touching you”, you remarked, a gasp leaving your mouth, when your disciple unceremoniously pulled your robes aside to grope your chest. Your bulging pecs dwarved his slender hands, as he dug his nails into the soft flesh and kneaded them like dough.

“Nghhaaahhh~” Jiaoqiu threw his head back and pushed his hips down harder on your fingers, when you curled them slightly and allowed them to slip into his cunt. “S-Speak for yourself, master-!” He moaned, hips stuttering slightly, as he pushed his ass back against the rather large patch at the tent in your pants. His hole was clamping down on your thick fingers, the large digits spreading him out far better than his could ever dream of.

“Now, now, watch your manners”, you tutted him with a harsh curl of your fingers inside of him, digging them deeper into him and punching an ecstatic groan out of him. “Me being knuckles-deep inside of you doesn’t give you permission to act up.” His cunt squeezed you even harder at the words and you could swear he was sucking you in with all of his might.

Licking his lips hungrily, Jiaoqiu moved his hands to your abs, as he arched his back. “Sorry, master~” He didn’t seem sorry at all, when he lifted himself off of your fingers to slide your pants down and free the monster of a cock that had been desperately leaking into the fabric the whole time. Jiaoqiu traced the shaft in awe, admiring the bulging veins running along it. Two of his fingers teasingly rubbed over your tip, collecting the pre-cum and spreading it around. “So big and hard~ A shame that it’s attached to such a stubborn master~”

“Nghh-!” You bucked your hips lightly, your cock sliding against his fingers and getting a bit of pre-cum over the shaft. “Take matters into your own hand, if you don’t like how I’m doing it.”

“Tch, of course.” His hand wrapped around your shaft, slowly stroking it and covering it in your fluids. His fingers could barely encircle your base completely and Jiaoqiu seemed to like that just as much as you did, based on how he leered at it lustfully. “Anghhh~” Rubbing your cock against his cunt, he pushed it against his pink entrance, barely letting the red tip slide in and clenching around it, before pulling out again.

“A-Qiu…” You grunted, nails digging into his waist, adding more bruises to the ones your hands had already left on his creamy skin.

“Hahhh, so good~” With a moan, Jiaoqiu fully sank down on your length, his wet heat clamping down on you like a vice. The aphrodisiac has made you so sensitive, it felt as though a single thrust deep inside of him could make you cum already. His pussy was fluttering around you, desperately trying to suck you back in, even as he lifted himself up slowly and dropped back down.

“You’re so tight, A-Qiu…”, you gritted out, enraptured by the sight of your disciple riding you, his wet cunt speared open to its limits around your cock, as it kept going in and out. Your thumbs brushed over a bump in his stomach and your breath hitched when you realised that it was your dick there.

“Can you feel it?~” Jiaoqiu panted, placing his smaller hand on yours to guide it to the bulge in his abdomen that appeared every time he thrusted downwards. “Master, you’re so deep~”

“Ngh, A-Qiu…!” With a grunt, you held his hips in place to thrust up into him, disregarding the will to let him put on a show for you. His entire body jolted at the sudden stimulation and he shook in your hands. You let him position himself comfortably on top of you, before propping your knees up and pounding into him from below.

“Ohhhh, yesss, yes, yes, master-!” Jiaoqiu blabbered, burning eyes turning hazy, as he dug his nails into your flexing abs, his tail swishing behind him in satisfaction. His cunt was tight and inviting and you made sure to thrust and grind into each of his sensitive spots inside, turning the Huli Jing into a moaning mess. “Faster-!”

“You’re not- Unghh~! Making demands here-!” You complied anyway, speeding up your thrusts into him. The force behind it had his ears bouncing wildly and his tail was swishing around more erratically, signalling his upcoming orgasm.

“Nghhh, c-come inside, master-!”, Jiaoqiu demanded, squirming in your firm grasp to thrust down on your huge cock and keep it inside of him. His fingers were digging bruises into your belly and his hair was falling so beautifully over his shoulders, as his swollen pussy took your dick like it was made for it.

“Hahhh, I- Mghhghhh~!” A particularly harsh thrust deep into your disciple sent you over the edge, the bliss temporarily blinding you, as your cock spurted a big load right into Jiaoqiu’s cunt.

“Master-! Nghhaahhh!” He followed with a yell, cunt clenching down on you even harsher than before and squirting all over you.

“Ungh-!” Some of his spent landed right in your mouth and you eagerly ate it up, enjoying the sweet, musky taste of his pussy. As your vision returned, you blinked at him, seeing that your dick made no effort to soften and his cunt was still as swollen and wet as ever. Even with how he clamped down on you, leaving not even the slightest gap between your dick and his walls, your load was starting to seep out of him.

“Keep it inside-!” Jiaoqiu huffed, trying to close his legs to prevent it from spilling out.

“Come here, A-Qiu”, you commanded him softly, dragging him off of your cock and guiding him into a new position. Your disciple squirmed a little, but soon complied, when he found out what you were planning.

“Mm, I like the idea of dessert~”, he purred, his swaying tail accidentally smacking your face, as you lowered his pussy towards your face. His thighs were caging in your head, efficiently suffocating you, but nose-deep in a wet cunt was a death you could live with, if you didn’t care for dignity.

“Don’t be greedy, A-Qiu. Only one portion for now”, you mumbled, unable to resist the delicious sight of your cum dripping out of his pink pussy like sweet cream.

“If you say so, master~” Thin fingers curled around the base of your cock and not a second later, a kiss was placed on your tip. Feeling your dick twitch at that, you mirrored the gesture and kissed Jiaoqiu’s clit, before using your thumbs to spread his labia open and catching the savoury mix of cum and pussy juice with your mouth. “Mghhh~”

It didn’t take long until wet, obscene slurping sounds filled the room, Jiaoqiu’s lips stretched taut around your shaft, as he eagerly sucked on your cock like it was a sweet treat. Meanwhile your mouth was devouring his dripping cunt, eating up the mix of both of your fluids like a starved man.

You could feel his pussy clenching around your tongue, when you finally entered it, having eaten up most of your fluids inside of him by now. Once your cum was gone, you could truly get a taste of your disciple’s hungry pussy and on god, you were loving it. He tasted sweet and musky, a nicely masculine and alluring taste that suited Jiaoqiu perfectly.

“Mghhh~ Such a big treat~” You heard him mumble, as he pulled off of your cock to lick his slick off of the base and the shaft where he couldn’t reach, when sucking you off. His devious, little fingers quickly found your balls and started squeezing and playing with them like marbles.

“Ngh-! Don’t play with your food, A-Qiu-!” You jolted at his touch, bucking your hips up and pushing your cock against his face. Burying your face in his cunt, you slipped one thumb into his soaked hole from above, while tonguing at the hood of his clit.

“Ahhh~ S-Sorry, master~” Again, Jiaoqiu didn’t sound very sorry, as he kept fondling your balls and stroking your base, as he went back to suckling at your tip.

You groaned and dug your nails into his plush thigh, having to hold his hips in place, as he greedily tried to suffocate you with his pussy. Wrapping your lips around his clit, you began sucking eagerly, listening to his whines and gasps, as he struggled to take your dick down his throat.

You shifted a little, trying to wring your thumb deeper into his hole, and curling it inside to assault his sweet spot. From the way he jolted and tightened around your dick every time you moved your finger, it seemed to be working.

“Nghhh~” Drunk on lust and pleasure, you loosened your grip on the Huli Jing’s thigh and let him fully squash your face with his cunt. With a muffled grunt, you started ravishing his pussy, replacing your thumb with your tongue, as you grabbed the base of his tail and stroked it.

“Aaamghhh~” Jiaoqiu’s response was almost immediate, a high-pitched keen, which was quickly choked back down his throat as you bucked your hips up to slam your cock into his face. You felt his whole body quiver and shake, as you set a ruthless pace, hearing him choke and gasp from the rapid thrusts. The movements caused his hips to bear down further on your face and despite already feeling light-headed from lack of oxygen, you kept tongue-fucking him.

“Mgghhh, hhhh-!” Your hips stuttered a little and a muffled yell went right against your disciple’s cunt, as you came right down his tight throat. Jiaoqiu moaned in response, eagerly drinking up all of your cum.

His thighs tightened around your head, threatening to crush it like a watermelon, as his hips bore down on your face and by now practically grinded his cunt against your mouth, until he came with a shout. “Ahh, fuck-! Nghhh, master-!” Jiaoqiu lifted himself off of your nose just enough for you to give you a small breather, before immediately squirting all over it and soaking you in his juices.

“Urghhh-!” Reflexively, you opened your mouth and clenched your eyes shut, drinking up the sweet, alluring liquid that landed on your tongue. Almost instantly, Jiaoqiu settled back down against your face, languidly riding out his orgasm, as he swirled his tongue around your sensitive cockhead.

“A-Qiu…”, You mumbled after a while, tugging at his tail to get him off of you. Despite those two intense orgasms, your body was still burning up from arousal and your dick was still hard and erect as if you never came.

“Mghhh, you tasted good, master~” His tail swayed in your grasp, as Jiaoqiu pulled away from your cock and arched his back. He lifted his hips, letting out an amused snort, upon seeing your red face soaked in his juices.

“Look at the mess you made, A-Qiu.” You tutted him, sitting up, as the Huli Jing turned around and climbed onto your lap, squeezing your dick in-between your hot bellies, while he straddled your thigh.

“Sorry, master~” Jiaoqiu batted his eyelashes, still not a trace of remorse in his yellow eyes, as he leaned forward and kissed you. “I’ll clean it up for you~”

You hummed in approval, closing your eyes and kneading his ass, as his tongue lapped up his juices and he ground his hips down on your bare thigh.

You were wondering whether the night was long enough for you and your disciple to properly fuck all of the aphrodisiac out of your systems.

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

My Fair Lady's Maid (Regency!Aemond x Lady's Maid!Reader)

Part 2: An Ordinary Man

Frustrated with his grandsire's tedious and thorough process of choosing him a "suitable" bride, Aemond makes a declaration that a lady's maid could be indistinguishable from a true noblewoman so long as she was sufficiently dressed and educated in embroidery, conversation, and the like. Otto takes this as a challenge, and gives Aemond four months to turn one of Helaena's lady's maids into a noblewoman.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (third person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: none

Point of View: Limited third person omniscient

Author's Note: We're only with Aemond this chapter, but Miss Doolittle will return in the next!

An Ordinary Man

Aemond stepped out of the carriage first, extending a hand to help Helaena climb out. He knew his sister well, so he knew her legs would already be sore from dancing all night and did not want her to stumble on the loose gravel drive.

“Did you see the fireflies?” she asked as she climbed out. Her cheeks were still flushed, but her eyelids had begun to droop. “They were insistent, were they not?”

In truth, Aemond hardly remembered there being fireflies in the garden of their host’s estate. He had not ventured outside – the ladies were outside, and he had no intentions of being dragged onto the dancefloor. Still, he smiled at his sister and nodded.

Daeron clambered out of the carriage behind her. His cravat was rumpled, and his hair ruffled, as he always seemed to be after an evening out. “They were! I swear the same one was following me all night. I simply couldn’t shoo him away for longer than a minute.”

“It was all the sweets on the table outside,” their grandfather, Lord Otto Hightower, added as he stepped onto the drive. “I wouldn’t eat a bite. Who knows what other manner of vermin lurked about.”

Helaena flounced through the open doors, smiling brightly at the footman. “Fireflies aren’t vermin, grandfather! They’re beautiful.”

“Forgive me,” Otto said, gently grabbing her elbow so he could kiss her brow. “Of course they are.”

From a distance, Aemond wanted to say, but he wanted to keep his sister happy more, so he remained silent as they all gathered in the parlor. He removed his gloves, dropping them on the surface of the sideboard before withdrawing a bottle of his favorite port, much needed after such a long night.

“Are you going straight to bed?” Daeron asked as Helaena moved toward the stairs. “You don’t want to talk to us?”

“I need my rest!” she called over her shoulder. “My new lady’s maid will arrive tomorrow, and I want to give a good first impression.”

All three men smiled to themselves, waiting until her footsteps faded to speak.

“What use is there in making a good first impression on a servant?” Aemond wondered.

Daeron sighed, rolling his eyes as he stepped up to the sideboard, grabbing a glass and a bottle of sherry before reclining dramatically on the chaise. “Servant or no, the new girl will be her closest companion. Better the relationship be friendly, no?”

He uncorked the port and poured a generous amount into his glass. “I suppose. And it is in her nature.”

“Did any of the young ladies catch your interest, Aemond?”

His hand froze, hovering over the stem of his half-full glass. He swore that if his grandfather brought up the question of a woman one more time, he’d banish the old man to the shabby cottage deep in the woods, where he’d never have to hear that damnable question again.

He had sworn the same the last time. And the time before that. And the time before that.

One day, he may actually follow through on it.

That night, though, he simply seized the bottle of port again, filled his glass to the brim, and downed it all in one gulp. The burn in his throat was far more tolerable than any of the simpering women at the ball.

The Tully girl with the lifeless eyes of a dead fish and equivalent intellect. The Lannister could do little else but bat her eyelashes and assault the ears around her with her tittering laugh. The four Baratheon girls, each utterly vexing in her own unique way. And many, many more besides.

“Aemond?” Otto asked again. The false joviality vanished from his voice.

Damn, he’d waited too long to answer. Perhaps he could still pass it off as being consumed in thought?

“Why even ask?” Daeron half-laughed as he swirled his sherry. He always had to swirl it around for several minutes before he deemed it acceptable to drink but gave no reason for it. “He only ever looks at them long enough to notice their flaws.”

Aemond filled his glass again – only halfway this time. “If their flaws weren’t so noticeable, I may have looked longer.”

“Every young lady there was well-bred and well-accomplished. Several of them were even charming, by my estimation. Any one of them would have made a perfectly suitable wife.” His grandfather leaned forward in his chair, steepling his hands together. It was what he always did when trying to use reason to get his way. Oftentimes, it worked.

But not with this.

“I have neither the need nor the desire to find a wife, as I have made quite plain.”

“Every man of our station is in want of a wife, grandson.”

Aemond huffed. “I have no true station. I am nothing but an ‘ordinary man.’”

The words were not his own. It was only an echo of his uncle’s cruel words after the House of Lords had passed the judgment that left Aemond with no more than what his elder sister had deemed acceptable consolation for losing the lands and title that should have been his.

Now, all he had to his name was an old hunting lodge for an estate and a courtesy title. Rhaenyra had not even granted him a pocket borough to allow him into Parliament – that was given to her fool of a son who only rarely attended his duties.

“Even without the title, you are still an important man in the county. Kingswood is a large and profitable estate, and you command great respect from all.”

The empathy in Otto’s voice grated at Aemond. He, too, was a second son who stood to inherit only what his elder sibling would give him. But he could not truly understand; their situations were far too different. Otto had never come nearly as close as Aemond did to the title. It had been so close he could still feel its phantom presence upon his shoulder.

He stared at his reflection in his glass, elongated and deformed by the curved glass. “I still fail to see what benefits a wife would bring me.”

“A proper wife, a wife of good breeding, would enhance your reputation, grant you new allies, and perhaps even expand your holdings.” His grandfather hesitated before continuing, the only indication of his nerves the tightness in his raised brow. “The right match may even bring a title for your children to inherit.”

Aemond set his glass down with such force that it shattered under his hand, shards digging into his palm. It was a welcome distraction. “Nothing I cannot obtain myself.” Save, perhaps, the title. But he knew better to hope for what was impossible.

Otto was silent a while, sipping on his drink. Daeron did not dare disturb the silence. He’d been witness to this fight before. Aemond knew that in only a few more moments, his younger brother would awkwardly raise a different topic, and they could finally move past this particular subject.

But it was not Daeron who broke the silence. It was Otto.

“If you will not accept a wife for advantage, perhaps you will consider the personal benefits?” He looked at his grandson with an affection Aemond had not seen in years. “This estate is in desperate need of a lady’s presence.”

“We have Helaena,” Daeron whispered.

“Yes, but she lives in her own world, and I have no desire to force her into a role she does not want.” He turned back to Aemond, who steadfastly ignored him in favor of picking bits of glass out of his palm. “But we would all benefit from that role being filled.”

Aemond wrapped his handkerchief around his hand, tying it tight enough to stem the bleeding.

“I am not asking you to love the girl, Aemond. Love in marriage is rare, after all.” Otto’s voice faltered. He had experienced love in his marriage, though he rarely talked about their late grandmother. It was better that way, Aemond told himself. Hearing those love stories made his stomach roil. “But would it not be pleasant to have someone by your side? To help manage the estate and ease the burden on your shoulders? She could read to you, sing for you, play that pianoforte that has been collecting dust for years. She could decorate the house, maybe even with her own art. The ladies we met tonight were exceptionally accomplished. They could do all that and more.”

Wishing he had not smashed his glass for want of more alcohol, Aemond finally faced his grandfather. “Is that supposed to impress me? That they have grown proficient in what they have been trained in their entire lives?” He smiled wickedly. “Even the most foolish girl could be trained to do the same.”

“Even that girl we met in Rosby today?”

With his question, Daeron had shattered the argument as if it were a plate of thin glass.

Otto stared at his youngest grandson, then at Aemond, then back again. “What in God’s name were you doing in Rosby?”

“That creature was more beast than girl.” Aemond clenched his fists as he recalled the pitiful thing sprawled on the dirty road, the horrible noises she made, and…

“She was scared, Aemond.” He had never heard Daeron sound angry, yet here it was. “You frightened her.”

“Yes, I am well aware of that.” Aemond dug a finger into the largest cuts on his palm, almost immediately feeling blood soak through the handkerchief. He remembered very well the way the girl had stared at him – at his ruined eye and horrible scar. It was as if she could not believe he was real. Like he was some terrifying monster that had escaped from a book of faerie tales.

Daeron set down his glass, still full, and crossed his arms. “Then you insulted her.”

“I made observations.” He doubted the girl would even perceive his comments as insults, that she had the necessary intellect to do so.

“You called her a wretch and a goose.”

Aemond clenched his jaw in frustration. Why should Daeron care about what he said to some varlet? “I never said she was a goose. I said she sounded like one.”

“A ‘strangled goose,’ if I remember correctly.”

“Semantics.”

“Cruelty.”

Otto slammed his hand into the arm of his chair and stood, his face red with anger and eyes wide with confusion. “Will one of you kindly explain what manner of creature you met in Rosby of all places? And what she or it has to do with Aemond needing a wife?”

“It was nothing,” Aemond insisted. “An unfortunate encounter that has absolutely no bearing on this conversation. Or any conversation.”

“At the market today, Aemond quite literally ran into a poor girl in Rosby who was selling flowers. She was thrown to the ground, her flowers were destroyed, and she was distraught, and Aemond did nothing but dismiss and insult her. He wasn’t even going to reimburse her for the cost of her lost wares.” Daeron stood from the chaise and approached his brother, arms still crossed and eyes hard. “You just declared that ‘even the most foolish girl’ could be trained to act like a well-bred lady.” “Why shouldn’t that be true for that flower girl?”

Aemond snarled, the left corner of his lips twitching upward into a sneer. “I never said it wasn’t. But as I said, she had nothing to do with – ”

“Prove it.”

Both young men snapped their attention to their grandfather, their own argument forgotten.

“What?” Aemond asked. His anger was quickly morphing into something like dread.

Otto approached. There was no longer a trace of anger or confusion on his face, only a delighted smugness that Aemond knew well to fear. “You say any girl can be taught to be a lady. I am asking you to prove it – with that girl from Rosby.”

Daeron barked out a laugh, returning to his sherry and raising it in a toast. “A brilliant idea, grandfather!”

“I can see no reason why I should do such a thing,” Aemond insisted. He was fighting to control his anger and indignation. His jaw was clenched to the point of pain. Perhaps it would shatter like his glass had.

“If it is a reason you are looking for, grandson, I will give it to you.” Though he had no need to, Otto tilted his head back to look down his nose at Aemond. “If you prove that even this pitiful girl you’ve described can indeed be trained to be a proper lady, then I shall never broach the topic of your marriage again. You shall be free to marry whomever you wish or to not marry at all. But only if this wretch from Rosby becomes a passable lady – and not only by our estimation. She must prove herself publicly. The Embassy Ball would be ideal, don’t you think?”

He stepped even closer, forcing his grandson to retreat a step. “But if you cannot, and the poor girl makes a fool of herself, you will marry. I will arrange a match with one of the many fine ladies we saw tonight, and you will marry her within the year. Without protest.”

It was too great a risk, Aemond knew. It was more than likely that he would end up married to a woman he did not love who would upend his perfectly peaceful life.

But there was a chance…

A chance to leave all the countless arguments over his marriage in the past, to never have to hear his grandfather’s nagging again. He could live his life precisely as he wanted, without having to sire heirs he did not want or worry about inheritance. Daeron would be his heir, and his children after him.

Otto knew it, too. He knew he was dangling a feast before a starving man only to lure him into a trap. It was that knowledge, along with the self-satisfied smirk his grandfather wore, that made Aemond’s decision for him.

 “Very well, I accept.” He extended a hand to seal the wager.

As his grandfather shook his hand, Aemond could not help but feel as though he had made the worst decision of his life.

[milkteabinniechan]

♡The Night We Became Us - Seungmin

(this is a membership exclusive + a preview 👀 you can read the whole love story here)

pairing: bf! Seungmin x fem! reader

summary: Three dates? Four? Every night has ended with a kiss at the door. You can both feel it: the desire, the need. All you want is to ask Seungmin to come inside and spend the night.

warnings: fluffy fluff, size difference, oral(f.rec), overstimulation

“Should we order a bottle of wine?”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow to you, his hand already lifted to signal the waiter to come to your table. You could see how nervous he was and it was endearing. Usually he was so calm and put together. He was usually quiet and listened well to all of your stories and complaints. This was only your fourth date but you felt something building. Something that felt like love. And that thought alone was enough to make you run straight out of that restaurant and never look back.

The waiter brought over the bottle of wine, uncorking it at your table while the two of you sat in comfortable silence. Two glasses of expensive red wine later, Seungmin drove you home with his hand possessively on your thigh. He walked you up the steps to your apartment door and gave you a long, passionate kiss like he had three times before. But now you held his face in your hand and asked him a question.

“Do you want to come inside?”

Seungmin nodded quickly, his eagerness glaringly apparent as he followed behind you. You invited him to make himself comfortable as you freshened up. Soon, you found yourself straddling his lap, lost in a mess of loud, sloppy kisses. The two of you pulled back for a moment to catch your breath. Neither of you dare to speak first. The air between you grew with tension. Seungmin opens his mouth, then closes it again, seemingly gathering his courage. Finally, he speaks, his voice barely audible.

“Where's your bedroom?"

[michelleleewise]

Fire and Ash...

A Long Live The King Tale

Pairing: King Jotun Loki × Asgardian female reader

Warnings: there shall be angst here, not so much this time though, self doubt, accusations, political drama, self esteem issues, breastfeeding. I think that's it, if I missed anything let me know.

Summary: you hoped the birth of your son would bring you and Loki closer together, but as he continues to pull away you know he's hiding something from you.

A/n- I'm a bit rusty with all of this, be gentle 😁💚

Part one ~ Part two-

You rolled to your side gripping your stomach, your eyes shooting open as your incision throbbed. "Norns!" You whisper yelled hearing someone coming towards you. "My lady, do you need something for the pain?" You heard, looking up seeing Norendra standing over you, concern lacing her face "y...yes, please, this is....unbearable." You gritted trying to breath through the pain. "I'll be right back my lady." She said with a soft smile before hurrying off.

As she left a soft coo sounded from the corner of the room, turning your head you saw Loki, dressed every bit the king he was, in his long flowing forest green cape, and his perfectly fitted tunic and leather pants sitting straight up "does he ever relax?" You whispered as your eyes traveled up seeing his head slumped forward, when a small green bundle held firmly in his arms moved catching your attention making you look down into his lap. "Vali." You whispered, smiling see his full head of black hair, his bright azure skin glowing under the soft candle light.

"Alright my lady, I have something for the pain." You heard, unable to pull your eyes away from Loki and your son "how long has he been here?" You asked feeling a tear escape your eye traveling to your hair "the king has been here since you slept my lady." She said making your head snap to look at her "he hasn't left?" You asked scrunching your eyebrows together "no my lady, not once." She said uncorking a small glass vial "now drink this, it will help." Noreandra said holding the bottle out to you "thank the norns, you are an angel." You said grabbing it, downing it all on one gulp. "Good, now rest you will need your strength." She said taking the bottle from you. "Thank you norendra." You said looking back to the two most important people in your life "it is my pleasure my lady." You heard her say as your eye lids began to droop, feeling sleep begin to take you "I love you....both of you." You sighed as your eyes closed, sleep taking you away.

One month later-

You rolled to your back, the soft cries from the other side of the room pulling you from your sleep "loki...would you..." you trailed off reaching your hand out to find the bed empty, the sheets cold telling you he had been gone for quite some time. "Loki." You called out slowly sitting up as the cries became louder. "Alright little one, I'm awake." You sighed rubbing your eyes you pulled the furs back swinging your legs over the side. Standing up you shuffled across the room peeking into the crib "vali dear what's wrong?" You cooed rubbing his belly when his small crimson eyes opened looking up at you full of tears. "Come here sweet boy." You cooed gently picking him up you cradled him in your arms rocking him back and forth.

Is someone hungry?" You asked hearing him whimper "ok, let mommy get settled." You said taking a seat in the chair by the fire when you heard a knock on the door "come in." You called out when Alrik came in holding a tray "I have brought you breakfast my queen." He said setting the tray on the bed "is everything alright?" He asked looking you over "yes, he's just hungry...would you hand me that?" You asked pointing to a small green blanket on the bed. He walked over picking it up holding it out to you "I can go if you wish." He said as you draped the blanket over your shoulder "no...please stay." You said looking up at him seeing him smile "very well." He said taking a seat on the bed.

The two of you sat in silence as you helped vali get settled "where is he?" You asked plainly, looking up seeing Alrik looking everywhere but you "he is with king Thor in the throne room my queen." He said making you sigh "well, atleast he's here I suppose." You said when Alrik's head snapped to you "he hasn't spoken to you has he?" He asked fidgeting with his tunic "about what Alrik?" You asked furrowing your eyebrows "it's not my place to say my queen, you must ask him." He said looking down. "Well when will he be done with thor?" You asked seeing him squirm "they have had a bit to drink, the king is rather full at the moment so I am unsure." He said looking up at you "unacceptable." You said standing up, pulling little Vali from under the blanket "here, burp him and I shall return in a moment." You said gently handing your son to Alrik "i....I am unsure..." He said hesitantly cradling your sons head in his large hand

"It's easy, here I'll show you." You smiled positioning Vali on his chest, his head resting on his shoulder "now gently pat his back, ill be right back." You said as Alrik nodded. You walked to the wardrobe seeing every shade of green imaginable, smiling at the memory "a queen must wear her kings colors my love." He had said winking before pulling you into a deep kiss. "That feels like an eternity ago." You sighed, running your fingers across the silk and lace, remembering how things were when you first returned to jotunhiem after the battle with odin. "Why have things changed Loki?" You whispered feeling resentment begin to fill you "well If you can disregard me, I can do the same." You said pushing aside all the green seeing a deep purple velvet dress with fur accents you had had made shortly after your return "perfect." You said smiling, slipping it over your head you looked in the mirror seeing it still fit perfectly, your eyes traveling to your hair seeing it a mess "well that won't do." You said grabbing Loki's brush off the vanity you did your best to make yourself look presentable.

"Well, that's as good as it's going to get I think." You said tossing the brush down walking out seeing Vali asleep on Alrik's shoulder "well, how do I look?" You asked holding your arms out "stunning as always my queen." He said smiling "flattery will get you everywhere." You said hearing him laugh. "I'm off to bring the king back, by whatever means necessary." You said putting your fur slippers on Alrik had made you "a...are you sure? It may be unwise to..." He trailed off as you glared at him "yes my queen, I shall stay here with the little one." He said settling back "thank you Alrik, wish me luck." You said walking to the door "he is the one who needs the luck." You heard him say as you walked out gently closing the door behind you "a force indeed." He said gently rocking Vali hearing him coo "I believe your daddy may not survive this night." He said hearing a soft giggle come from the sleeping babe.

You stormed towards the throne room, anger building in you with every step you took. "If he does not want me here, he is going to tell me." You said to yourself coming up to the huge wooden double doors when two guards stopped you "I'm sorry my lady, but the king is entertaining king Thor at the moment." They said standing in front of you "You will let me in, that is not a request." You said standing firm. "We have orders not to let anyone in my lady." The other one said as you looked between them. "As your queen, I demand you move." You said as the other leaned down "the king has not married you, and even if he had, you are no queen of ours." He said standing back up as you took a step back "I beg your pardon!" You yelled seeing the other guard jump "You may have given the king an heir, but that does not make you a queen, it makes you a harlot." The other one said as you stood speechless.

"I swear to the norns, if you do not open that door you will see Valhalla tonight!" You yelled stepping forward when the doors flew open "what is going on out here?" You heard, looking down seeing Loki standing behind the guards, his hair disheveled and his tunic loosened at the top "your moronic guards refuse to let me in." You said crossing your arms "what did you need y/n? I am quite busy." Loki said looking you up and down "drinking with thor does not constitute you being busy." You said seeing the guards look at ecahother "come inside, I will not discuss this in front of my men." He said stepping aside. "Yes, wouldn't want them knowing how much of a lush their king is." You snarked feeling his hand grab your elbow "y/n. Inside." He said pulling you in slamming the doors behind him. "What is the meaning of this?" He asked turning back to you.

"Well, your son woke me up, and to my surprise my....I don't even know what we are....was not in bed with me." You said waving your arms. "I am your king." He said matter of factly crossing his arms "but what more then that?!" You yelled pacing back and forth "You have not married me, you avoid me at every opportunity, you clearly aren't sleeping in bed with me, and you haven't touched me in months!" You yelled as Loki grabbed your shoulder "y/n. Keep it down, others do not..." He started when you pushed him off "do not what? Need to hear that I am merely a bed warmer? A nanny for your heir?" You asked feeling tears well in your eyes "no! Of course not, I love you." Loki said taking a step towards you. "Then why are you avoiding me Loki, what is happening to us?" You said feeling a tear slide down your cheek.

"Have you found another who is more suitable?" You asked as Loki grabbed your shoulders again "that is preposterous, no one can compare to you my queen." He said looking into your eyes, the bright rubies as beautiful as the first day you saw them "then what is going on?" You asked hearing him sigh. "I am sorry I have not been as attentive as I should be as of late, there is something I need to discuss with you which in honesty I've been avoiding." He said sliding his hands down your arms.

"Discuss what with me Loki? Talk to me please!" You pleaded watching him look to the ground. "Y/n, i..." Loki started looking into your eyes when a large bang sounded from further in the room "brother! Are we not celebrating anymore?" A loud booming voice yelled, turning seeing Thor leaned back in a chair, his leg propped on the table in front of him. "Not now thor!" Loki yelled as you turned back to him. "Celebrating what?" You asked as he shifted back and forth. "I do not wish to discuss it now y/n, we will speak later when I return to our chamber." Loki said walking to the door "Loki, if you do not wish me here I will leave." You said crossing your arms as his head snapped back to you "I have never said I don't want you here love." He said, his eyes softening as you walked towards the door.

"My king, I will not continue this charade...your men do not repsrect me, you do not seem to desire me anymore, and you spend more time with Thor then you do me." You sighed grabbing the handle of the door "y/n, my love let me explain." He said as you put your hand up "I will be expecting you in our chambers within the hour, and you will tell me what you aren't." You said opened the door "You must decide what it is you truly want Loki, and if it isn't I and your son then let me go." You said feeling tears building In your eyes "y/n, please..." He said taking a step towards you "we will talk withing the hour Loki." You said gently placing your hand on his chest, your finger tips feeling his heart racing "go deal with thor, ill be expecting you." You said quickly turning and walking out of the throne room.

You headed towards your chambers ringing your hands together "what if he doesn't choose us..." You said to yourself looking down the hall, the walls draped with tapestries of history long past "what if I am not enough for him?" You said making it to the door of your chambers "what shall we do vali?" You whispered closing your eyes you opened the door, walking inside you crossed the room, slowly peeking into the bed chamber seeing Alrik asleep holding vali tightly in his hands, soft snores coming from both of them. Smiling you quietly closed the door, sighing as you walked towards the fire, sitting on the chaise you once called your bed you looked into the fire dreading the conversation that you were about to have. "Better to know now I suppose." You said sitting back waiting for what was to come.....

@loz-3 @mochie85 @vbecker10 @jaidenhawke @crimson25 @mjsthrillernp @realmamabear79 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @libby-bibby @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @aniar4wniak @vileepponine @thegodofnotknowing @gruftiela @irishhappiness @prettymandy @emarich7 @buttercupcookies-blog @janineb86 @kittenhawkk @lovingchoices14 @dangerousblizzarddreamer @kathren1sky-blog @wolfsmom1 @kikster606 @francescaanoya @godofstoriesandtime-rp @sinsandguilt

[thewritingbeforesunrise]

Object of Desire.

18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI

______________________________________

A/N: I really couldn't stop thinking about this scenario, and I had to write it down.

Word count: 2.7K

Warnings: NSFW 18+ONLY, graphic sexual content, dirty talk, swearing, angst, angry!Jake.

Summary: Jake is having a hard time making certain things work.

________________________________

A crash followed by a loud curse echoed from the inside of the studio.

It was very late and the few people still lingering around took that as a sign that it was way better to leave before hell broke loose.

The door of the first recording room opened and Daniel was the first one to exit, swiftly followed by Sam. The two of them basically ran out of the door looking worried and exhausted while more shouting came from the inside. Two voices were overlapping and growing in volume every second more.

The door was almost closing when it bursted open violently, hitting the wall like someone had kicked it hard.

“Well, I might be an obnoxious diva but you really need to learn how to play that fucking guitar again Jakey, you are slowing us down. So you better pull it together and control it because you are sounding like shit.” Josh came out of the room with his hands flailing, still facing inside and shouting to his brother on top of his lungs.

Then he grasped the door and slammed it shut before the half empty bottle of wine that Jake threw towards him could hit him straight in the face.

A loud “fuck off” echoed from the room at the same time that the bottle shattered with a booming crash against the wood of the door, sending shards and drops of wine everywhere.

Then, after that, the building fell completely silent.

Inside the recording room Jake was fuming with anger.

His ears were ringing and his chest was heaving. He was very hot and his already unbuttoned shirt was sticking to his skin uncomfortably, making him feel trapped and intensifying his anger.

He immediately took it off and threw it across the floor, exhausted.

It landed in a corner right next to the guitar, his beloved, that he had thrown to the floor a few minutes before everyone ran away and Josh accused him of not knowing how to play it anymore.

A renewed fit of anger filled his heart and he quickly crossed the room.

He harshly grabbed his beloved guitar from the floor and slammed it down on the table with so much force that the sound it made had a shiver run down his spine.

That bitch had been giving him troubles all day. It just wouldn't let him play it properly and he didn't know what the hell was wrong with it. The only thing he knew was that he needed to find that out as soon as possible.

He grabbed it by the fretboard and slung the strap over his shoulder. Then he plugged it into his amp and started playing a song he had played an indecent amount of times and that he knew like the back of his hands.

A few seconds later he was huffing out a curse under his breath. Something was wrong.

The notes sounded weird, in an almost sinister way and he didnt know why.

Frustration was slowly getting the better of him, so he sat down on the sofa with the guitar still on his lap and opened the bottle of Pinot Grigio that someone had placed right next to the sofa at the beginning of their useless recording session.

He uncorked the bottle and took a few long gulps right from it, without even bothering to go grab a glass.

Then he closed his eyes and rested his pounding head against the back of the couch for a few minutes, hoping that the wine would clear his mind and ease his nerves a bit.

With a renewed glimmer of hope, he tuned the instrument again, even though he knew that that wasn't the problem and this time he tried to improvise something.

An hour later, the bottle of wine was empty but Jake was still drowning in despair and anger. He kept trying to come up with a decent new riff but he produced nothing that sounded even remotedly like it used to when his fingers stroked the frets of his beloved.

It had been love at first sight between that little horned cherry-red devil and his twelve-year-old self. Inside that shop so many years ago with the first note he played he knew that she was the one.

But right now he was not so sure anymore.

The umpteenth wrong note echoed into the room, despite the guitar was perfectly tuned and that sent Jake spiraling.

A violent fit of anger coursed through his body.

He stood, ripped the guitar from his sweaty body and slammed it on the same table as before. Another hideous sound left the instrument from the violent impact and Jake lost it completely.

With a scream, he ripped all the strings from the guitar so hard that he even sliced his middle finger open with one of them.

Blood slowly started to drip out of the cut and onto the wood, creating a grim contrast with the red of the instrument but Jake didn't even notice at first. He was blinded by anger in a way that he didn't remember to have ever experienced before.

Without thinking he grabbed the neck of his guitar, bent over it and started whispering.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, hm? Why are you being such a bitch tonight? Are you fucking jealous because I played other guitars all day long?” He hissed like he was referring to an actual person, his lips grazing the wood and metal of the fretboard in a snare.

He knew he sounded completely out of his mind and that the entire scene might have granted him a one way ticket to a psychiatric ward but he had reached the point of no return.

At that moment a single crackle sound came from his amp and Jake froze in place.

A strange feeling crept up his spine making him shiver.

And then the thought that invaded his brain made him feel utterly helpless and crazy.

‘That sounded like an answer’ he thought but then shook his head because he refused to believe that.

It was true. That morning one of his closest friends brought to the studio many guitars, one more rare and prestigious than the other and he had a lot of fun playing a lot of them for a few takes. He did that because he wanted to spice things up a little bit and render his playing a bit more dynamic with the new album.

That evening however, since he was tired from playing that many different guitars, he needed to fall back on the one which he knew even better than his very soul.

But somehow he couldn't make it work this time.

He felt so stupid for even thinking that his beloved guitar, an inanimate object, could be sentient and could give him a hard time because of that.

He straightened his back and mustered up the courage to ask the same question again, but this time nothing happened. His voice just echoed into the empty room in a peculiar way.

“I’m wasted” he scoffed at himself and laughed out loud. He started pitying himself, and moved away from the table to go get some fresh air outside, hoping that it could help him clear his mind.

He reached for the door but, as soon as he placed his sweaty hot hand against the cool metal of the knob, another noise echoed from the single cabinet on the other side of the room.

At first he thought it was the usual creaking of old wooden furniture but then he heard it again and this time it sounded more like something metallic hitting wood.

He slowly turned around but everything was in perfect order.

He was just thinking about the fact that the wine had fucked him up pretty good when he heard it again, louder this time.

It was coming from the bottom drawer of the cabinet where he usually kept his new guitar strings just in case one broke during the recording.

His heart was hammering in his chest and his head was spinning a little, but he decided to investigate further anyway.

He slowly approached the cabinet and crouched down. He reached for the knob and mentally counted to three before firmly yanking the drawer open.

Immediately he jumped away scared by what he saw, falling on his ass on the floor and then he burst out laughing like a maniac.

Inside, the guitar strings that he had placed there that morning wrapped in a neat circle had unrolled and, as soon as he opened the drawer, they had burst out, scaring him to death.

He laughed again, shaking his head and watching how they bobbed everywhere.

Then he decided that that was a sign. The sign he should restring his guitar and play whatever it came to his mind.

He stood, grabbed the strings and the tools he needed and moved back to the table.

He also noticed the blood on his hand and grabbed a paper towel to clean himself and stop the blood from flowing further.

Before getting to work he even grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and chugged half of it. The coolness of the liquid helped him clear his mind a bit. At least his head wasn't spinning anymore.

He carefully started placing the new strings where they belonged with one hand while keeping the body of the guitar still with the other.

He tightened the first one and was about to place another when the hand that was holding the guitar still slipped slightly, making the lower part of the instrument bump against his crotch.

He tried again and again his hand slipped, making the guitar press against his hips like it happened seconds before.

He was slowly getting fed up by everything again.

He let go of the guitar, wiped his sweaty hands against his jeans and began again.

This time he held the guitar a bit more harshly, making his knuckles turn white.

He correctly placed another four strings and he was about to reach for the last one when his hold slipped and the instrument ended up pressing against his crotch again.

He groaned and involuntarily pressed his hips back against it, feeling himself twitch in his boxers.

Then, as if recovering from a momentaneous blackout, he shook his head, reprimanded himself and tried again to place the final string.

An imperceptible blush covered his cheeks, and he told himself it was because of the anger but in reality he was starting to feel aroused, something that happened to him often when he irresponsibly paired wine with anger.

He successfully placed the last string and a sigh of relief left his lips. Then he started turning the tuning peg to tighten it but the guitar slipped from his grasp again, this time pressing into his tense balls and causing a little twinge of pain.

But instead of recoiling from it, he felt his hips move forward almost without his control. He pressed his now growing erection against the wood and he had to bite his lips to stiffen a groan of pleasure.

He stopped himself hastily and bent over his guitar, pressing his sweaty forehead against the cool surface of the table and questioning what the hell he was doing.

After a few seconds he straightened his back, exhaling a curse through gritted teeth and tightened his hands against the body of his guitar.

“Fuck it” he said and started pressing his hips against the lower curve of the instrument.

Instantly, pleasure started coursing through his body and the rhythm of his hips intensified to chase his release.

During every push of his hips Jake felt like his guitar was slowly countering his thrusts fucking itself against him. He tried to change his rhythm and the instrument matched it effortlessly and impeccably.

He stopped overthinking what he was doing and quickly fumbled with the button and zipper of his jeans letting go of the guitar.

When finally he managed to pull his pants and boxers down to his ankles, setting himself free and placed his trembling hands back against the body of the guitar, it almost felt like it was vibrating imperceptibly as if in anticipation of his next movements.

When the delicate flushed skin of his engorged cock made contact with the smooth cool wood of the guitar a whimpery moan left his spit-slicked lips and he had to bite them to stop himself from screaming.

He moved his hands to grip the wood better and, as his fingers involuntarily grazed the strings, a low note echoed into the room, vibrating through his body and making him shiver.

“Please, do it again” he heard his own voice beg but didn't notice his lips moving with the words.

He grazed his fingers gently against the strings one more time while thrusting his hips and he almost doubled over in pleasure as the guitar slipped again from his grasps and pressed against his balls.

Jake knew he was slowly losing his mind but the fact that it really looked and felt like his guitar was making him fuck her was terrorising and arousing him at the same time.

He quickened his rhythm, fingering the strings unashamedly now as if his guitar was a flesh-and-blood woman under his grasp begging him for more and more.

The vibrations of the music were bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

After a few seconds he noticed that his hands were replicating the same pattern without knowing and his heart skipped a beat.

That was it.

The new riff he was looking for.

Right there.

Where it had always been.

He just needed a little bit of help to bring that sound out of his jumbled mind.

The vibrations coming from the guitar had his back arching with a loud unbridled moan as his nails dug into the wood of the instrument.

He knew he was getting closer and closer.

Embracing his moment of insanity he bent again over his guitar while thrusting his flushed cock rapidly against the wood that was already sleek with sweat and precome.

“Am I fucking you good, baby? Is this what you wanted all along, hm? You wanted me to treat you like my one and only bitch, didn't you? Now take it, slut.” He whispered dirtily towards his guitar as his thrusts quickened even more.

Another crackle sounded from the amp behind him and a note sounding like a moan resounded from the guitar, making him bare his teeth towards the instrument.

“C'mon Beloved, sing for me a little more. But make it dirty.” he addressed the guitar once again and, as if on command, the moment his fingers grazed the frets another riff sounded into the room making Jake’s toes curl.

“Fuck, yes, just like that” he heard himself moan, as his body twitched and spasmed against his guitar. His hair was damp with sweat by then, as was his entire body, and kept swaying back and forth in time with his lewd movements.

One last drawn out low note that was dripping sex and darkness echoed into the room and right through his body making him reach his high.

He watched mesmerized as his cock hardened even more and tensed, exposing his many veins and then, with a long prolonged moan, he admired as ropes of pearlescent come covered and ruined the polished wood of the instrument.

When finally he had regained a bit of his composure he straightened his back and huffed out a little breathy laugh.

Then he bent over his guitar one last time and licked it clean from his release almost hungrily.

With the pointed tip of his tongue he collected the last white drop from a string and the single note that reverberated into the room gave him yet another new idea.

Immediately he straightened his back, tied his hair in a low bun and pulled his boxers and pants back up.

Then he grabbed his beloved, slung the strap over his shoulder and went to press the recording button only to discover that it was already on.

And he really didn't remember turning it on.

___________________________

Taglist: @gvfpal @sammyslappers @spark-my-nature @highladyofasgard @sparrowofthedawnsworld @jessicafg03 @doodle417 @hellowgoodbye @ejoygvf @jaketlover @jakekiszkasbabymama @objectsinspvce @indigostreakmorgan @witchofendora @myleftsock @gretavanshmeat @gretasfallingsky @giraffehippy @jennasometimesreads @katiegvf @sinarainbows @laney_gvf @themorningbirds @starcatcherchords @lipstickitty @meetingthestardust @joshskittytickler @livkiszka @twistedmelodies @ignite-my-fire @gvfmarge @writingcold @brujamagik @edgingthedarkness @gold-mines-melting

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[ragequeen94]

imagine cooking/having dinner with the Papas

sfw... kissing? lots of wine.

fanon understanding that Terzo is very bad at speaking English.

Primo

It had been a nice surprise when the Papa Emeritus the First had invited you to his quarters for dinner, you hadn't assumed it would be... just you and him though. You both had been dancing around each other gently for a while now. He was older, and so where you, did that mean that romance was not something you could dream of? He opened the door to his private quarters, the smell of fresh basil and faintly nicotine rolled out passed him as he stood over you, a grin spreading over his face. "Ciao Bella...."

"Papa." You bowed you head, the air around you intoxicating. "I brought wine, Papa." You stepped into the rooms, this was when you realized it would be just you and him. You stepped further into the room, he closed the heavy doors behind you as you took in his personal space. You'd never been here before, you assumed few had. dried garlic and sun dried tomatoes hung from the windows, spices and dried herbs on the shelves, the surfaces all covered in flour from what ever he had been cooking. But it smelled amazing. "Papa...-"

"In here you may, call be Primo, it is my name." He walked passed you, jumping to turn the heat down on a boiling pot, he lifted the lid and the smelled of spiced tomatoes mixxed in the air. He reached into a drawer and without really looking at you handed you a bottle opener. you stared at it, almost confused, like the metal spiral was foreign technology. "For the wine, Bella."

"OH!" you accepted it from him and went to work uncorking the bottle, a little panicked you didn't know where the glasses were kept. You placed the popped cork on the counter top, the screw still buried inside. "Papa.... er... Primo... do you have glasses."

"Si.." He turned back to you, turning off all the stove burner. What ever he had made was done. He walked straight to you, he was close, so very close. His long fingers slowly wrapping around the neck of the bottle and and taking it from you. Instead he brought it to his lips and sipped straight from the bottle. "Very good. Red wine is best of all, is it not?"

He reached over your head, his body pressing against yours as he brought down two wine classes from a cupboard you hadn't noticed before. He put them on the counter behind you, the glasses clinking lightly on the tiles, he still held the bottle, bringing it to his lips again for another sip. Both of you were flush against the other, staring into the other eyes. The smell of wine on his breath made you brave. You tilted your head, getting closer, there was no way he didn't know what you wanted. "Primo... let me taste it then..."

He leaned his head down and his lips met yours. He tasted of the wine, but of dinner. He had been sampling as he cooked. Your stomach growled. But you both stayed still, you still stealing little kisses from him, he let you doat on him a little. "We should eat, Bella. Then, plenty of wine and plenty of this. All the time in the world."

Secondo

Dinner had been fun, you enjoyed your time as a senior member of the church. You had worked hard, been dedicated, given up everything... you had happily done so in the name of the One Below, but there were parts of you that were... sad. That felt like you had missed out of parts of what life was meant to offer. Odd, considering you were a sister of sin and there was no vice in life you were not almost duty bound to sample. It wasn't until now, now that you sat at the same table to those who always seemed so far from you, so superior, and now you were equal. You sat back, swirling the rest of your wine, your third glass, as the espresso was brought out. You sat at the table with the head clergy, with Papa and his inner circle, with his family. And his family was loud, and very Italian. You felt eyes on you, eyes that had been on your all night.

Sat besides his older brother Papa Secondo smirked at you he sipped his coffee. There was an added bonus to your newly found power and position. The attention of Papa Emeritus the Second, he grinned wide at you, his gaze sliding away from you as his rowdy younger brother stood, telling a tale with wild hand movements, the quiet cardinal sat besides him was splattered with wine from the glass Terzo had apparently forgotten he was holding. Secondo barked a laugh, his eyes sliding back to your seat, only to find you gone. He quickly sat up in his seat, trying to find you in the mostly empty canteen. His family always sat at the dinner table for hours, it was the way things were done. Usually not headed to bed until Papa Nihil had fallen asleep in his chair.

He saw you slip into the kitchens. Secondo got up to follow, not bothering to excuse himself or offer explanation to his family as they called after him. You were searching through wine fridges that lined the underside of the kitchen counters. There always had to be enough wine on hand. "Cucciola... you could not be searching for more wine..." He teased as he strolled straight for you.

"Papa..." you murmured. "Jus' making up for lost time." You grinned. He was very aware of your sudden head first dive into hedonism, and he longed to be the one to lead you to your deepest desires.

"Cucciola... perhaps it is late in the night to open a new bottle of wine." He got close to you, his hand reaching up and running a thumb over your lip, it was stained dark red already. "Are you not sated?"

"Never, Papa." You smiled, drunkenly, reaching for him, grabbing him by the front of his button up shirt. "Papa... I'm still hungry... still thirsty..." You inched close. If you had been sober you would never have been so brave. But a lot could be said for the magic found wine and fresh bread. Secondo grinned like a predator, his sharp canine teeth gleaming passed his lips. He leaned down the rest of the way and pressed a kiss to your lips, quickly pushing you up against one of the cold stainless steel fridges, what ever was inside rattled. You didn't care as you gripped onto his shoulders and let his devour you.

"Papa... Papa..."

"Quiet Cucciola, be good for Papa... I will show teach you to live deliciously."

Terzo

You were nervous. It had gotten into your head to invite Papa Terzo over for dinner. You'd been getting to know one another, had gone out, slept together a few times; it hadn't gotten much deeper than that, and you couldn't really tell if he was interested in more than your company in his bed.

You looked at the meal you had prepared proud for only a moment. you were the best cook, you often got carried away with ingredients and ended up going rogue when it came to following recipes. When you had picked out what you wanted to cook your first instinct had been to go for Italian food. Terzo was Italian, so you hoped at least he would like what you pulled together. Then you remembered... he was Italian, and had probably grown up eating the best authentic Italian food on the planet. With home made spaghetti and everything! Suddenly you wanted to throw it all in the garbage... he was going to be so disappointed.

He knocked on your door, a little late but that had only given you time to clean up the kitchen and get the table set how you liked it. You hadn't really noticed his tardiness, only that he yelled it in your face when you opened the door.

"Cioccolatino! I am late! I am much sorry's!" He pranced into your dormitory apartment, flowers in his hand and two bottles of wine. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a kiss before he made a show of breathing deep. "Smells so good in here!"

He walked into your home like he belonged there, instantly pulling down a vase from a top cabinet and popping the flowers into some water before putting them on the dinner table. you dug through the kitchen utensils looking for a bottle opener (you didn't want him to know most of your wine came from a box). "they are beautiful, Papa..."

"Terzo, you knows this. I been telling you, when it me and you, it can just be Terzo." He leaned in and kissed you again. "I like how it sounds when you say it, your accent so cute."

You raised a brow, smiling at the thought that to him you were the one with the funny accent. God knows how it sounded to him when you had tried to say thing in his native language. "Then sit down, Terzo, or you'll have a cold dinner."

He pulled out your chair before opening the wine and pouring you a very full glass. "I am very hunger, I am excited to be invited for dinner." He chirped, dropping himself in his chair and you both served yourselves, though you watched closely. staring at him as he put the first bite in his mouth.

"Do you like... it?" You worried your lip watching his face as he chewed. "I know its probably not what your used to but i tried..."

"It is very good! Molto saporito! were is from? We shall order again some time!" He nodded excitedly. Your mouth dropped a little. Not really sure how to correct him, or if he was joking.

"Oh... well i made it myself." You muttered. A little shy about it for some reason. Terzo looked down at his plate and at the food still on the serving pans.

"You make for me?" Terzo reached out and grabbed his hand. "I am much sorry i not understand this earlier! What is called this dish? No one make as good as you, surely." Terzo started to shovel his dinner into his mouth, so interested in his food he hadn't even touched his wine.

"Oh... its not really anything... just kinda, a bunch of italian flavors put together. I think i was trying to make cacciatore but got a little carried away with sides and... yeah..." You smiled and sipped your wine. He obviously was very impressed and it stroked your ego to see him do so. "Just like back home, hu?"

it had meant to be a joke, nothing more but he looked a little sad and a little confused at the idea. "Back home food is not always so good, i have never had this before. Abbey kitchen cooks are not always so talented... Primo not a good cook like a mama when we are young" he put another very full fork full into his mouth, trying to laugh at the same time. "If i have this every day i'd be a round Papa."

You reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it, he leaned down and kissed your knuckles (neither caring he got sauce from his lips on your hand). He smiled at you gently, pausing his gluttony to stare at your face. he looked like he wanted to say something more, some thought danced around on his tongue but didn't make it passed his lips. he signed and seemed content to just enjoy looking at you. before he realized what he was doing.

"Sorrys i... um... lost my thinking." He let go of your hand. "i thanks you, cara. This is most best meal i shall eat."

Copia

You sat at the small kitchenette in Papa Emeritus the Fourths private quarters. You'd been officially dating for a little over a month at this point, and he had been so very sweet. Sweeter than any man you'd ever been with up to this point, being with him was kind of like being in... puppy love. He was a little awkward, a little nervous, and very unsure. He apologized a lot and stumbled over his words, when he held your hand it was always clammy and his grip a little too tight. You had guessed his awkwardness had been because of social anxiety, which he was in no short supply of. It had been your idea to have dinner in, to cook together and enjoy a meal.

Copia had had other plans, he always wanted to treat you like a princess, was determined to do so to a fault. Sometimes you didnt mind being treated like a whore. He would figure that out eventually. You hoped. You'd kissed and cuddled and there had been some more heated movements between the two of you but he had failed to make an assertive move on you. The plan was to get enough wine in him tonight to help him shed any anxiety he had.

You watched as he cursed and shook his hand, he had burned it on the hot saucepan some how. It had been like this for a while. You sat at the made table, the candles not yet lit, a once very full glass of wine now... not so full sitting by you hand. There was bread that had been taken from the kitchens (you had insisted he not try cooking and baking in the same day) with very room temp butter waiting. He had apparently had to restart everything when the pasta he had boiled had boiled for too long without his attention and had turned into a glutenous blob. Now he was trying gnocchi. You'd eat dino nuggets at this point you were so hungry.

but you waited.

and waited.

"Copia... my love. My sun and moon, stars in my sky." You stood from your spot, you ass sticking to the chair in places, you'd been in one place for so long. He was sweating, dark brown hair sticking to the back of his neck, sleaves rolled up to his elbows, flour he had no real reason to even have out was covering him in small splotches, there was a burn on the inside of his wrist you noted was getting red and angry. "Let me help you..."

"Im sorry." He muttered. He looked defeated. "Im just no good at this kind of thing. Cooking... looked easy in the movies." He grunted. He had been trying to slice up zucchini for some other dish. Looking over the pantry of ingredients he had dragged out onto the counter top you tried to make head or tails of what he had been trying to accomplish but it was a mess. You knew there was chicken in the oven, you were sure he had poured as much seasonings onto it as possible without knowing what they even were. There were raw potatoes on the counter, for some reason a bag of frozen fish he seemed to have forgotten about. all kinds of vegetables half chopped and ignored, the only thing actually cooking were the gnocchi and some very chunky pasta sauce he had made by putting a dozen tomatoes in a blender with half a bottle of wine and some garlic.

"I want to help. I get to be close to you." You kissed his cheek, he leaned into your touch. You started to clear the counter tops to try and declutter what you really needed and help his stress. "I don't need anything fancy my love. A pizza and your company is enough-"

Copia frowned and looked a little angry. He stayed silent to a while then rather aggressively threw open the oven to check the chicken. It actually looked pretty good and smelled nice. He slammed shut the oven door and crossed his arms over his chest. "I want to do this nice thing for you, vita mia. I want to be a good boyfriend and be able to make risotto. Not burn pasta."

You looked around, trying to spot any trace of risotto. He gestured to the trash can. You smiled and walked over to him. Leaning up to kiss him, gabbing is belt to pull him close to you. "You are the best boyfriend with or with out risotto."

He nodded still upset but obviously defeated.

The gnocchi caught fire,

After the fire alarms had been turned off and the destruction cleared you couldn't help but giggle. You lead him to the living room, after having moved the setting from the kitchen table to the coffee table. And with two large glasses of wine you both sat and watched a horror movie picking at a whole chicken, still in the baking pan, with your fingers.

[all-about-kyu]

𝕽𝖊𝖉 𝕮𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝕭𝖊𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝕻𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘 (𝖒𝖞 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖆𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖘)

Summary: Being in a polyamorous relationship can take a toll on a person; Jongho just happened to be the one to uncork the bottle. Pairing: Seonghwa x San x fem!reader x Yeosang x Jongho Tropes: hybrid au, poly au, established relationship au Genre: fluff, angst, suggestive Rating: PG 13 Warnings: language, anxiety, stress, mentions of unhealthy self-care habits, reader described as smaller than all members and has blue eyes (bunny quality), minor injury, mentions of sex, kissing Word Count: 6,164 Note: your favorite Thunder is back! <3 thank you to @mejuii and @downtoamagicalland for beta reading as always <3

Listen to: Put It Straight by (G)-Idle ♡ As I Am (feat. Khalid) by Justin Bieber ♡ I GUESS I’M IN LOVE by Clinton Kane

Series Masterlist

You’ve been holed up in your workspace almost all day. You have been for a few days now. The only times you ever emerge are to shower and get some form of nourishment in your body. The influx of orders you had for your shop came out of nowhere, and you’re struggling to keep up with what needs to be done. All three of your boyfriends are worried about you, to say the least. San hasn’t been around much due to a merger he’s been working on, and Yeosang has been running around like a chicken with his head cut off, trying to get everything arranged for a new project that could make or break a lot of things for him. Seonghwa has been around, though. Just yesterday, he decided to stay home from the shop and sketch while you worked on crafting a rather detailed necklace. 

You’re so lost in what you’re creating that you hardly register the knock on your door. So when it pops open, you drop your half-done chain making the individual links scatter across the desk. Despite the urge to break down right then and there, you take a deep breath and recollect yourself. When you look up, you’re met with a very concerned-looking purple dragon.

“Treasure, you’ve been in here all day… have you eaten anything?” San asks with a worried tone.

“I’m fine.” You give him a tight-lipped smile, “I need to finish this bracelet by tomorrow and get it shipped out.”

San steps closer and squats down beside you. Even with him squatting, he’s barely below your eye level. It only serves to remind you how much smaller you are than them. Your silver-eyed boyfriend reaches to take your hands in his. At first, he doesn’t think anything of the tension rings along your fingers. He knows it helps you from cramping up too quickly. Then he takes in the small pinches and cuts on your fingertips and palms.

“Treasure, you should take a break. I’m worried about you. We all are.” He tries to reason with you.

“I’ll come to eat after this project is done, promise.” You offer, taking your hand to run over some of his scales along his cheekbone.

“You better have eaten a well-balanced meal and drank at least three glasses of water by the time I get back from my meeting,” He bluntly reminds you.

“I’ll do my best to do that.” You chuckle while playfully saluting him.

He stands back up to his full height, “I love you, and I hate to see you so overworked.” He sighs, placing a kiss against the base of one of your bunny ears.

“I love you too. I promise I’ll leave this room at some point.”

Some point becomes hours later when Seonghwa forces you out of the room even though the bracelet is still incomplete. San walks back in the door, Yeosang beside him, as you’re nibbling on a veggie wrap. Seonghwa is sitting beside you eating as well to make you feel less alone in your activity. San has a small bit of smoke curling out of his lip that he tries to stop you from seeing. It doesn’t work, though. Yeosang whispers something that seems to soothe the purple dragon before they both walk over to you. 

“How’s your project coming?” Yeosang asks innocently.

“Still not done….” You sigh, bunny ears falling back against your hair, “It was supposed to be done today so I could ship it out tomorrow….”

“And it’s okay that you didn’t finish it today.” Seonghwa offers, “You own your own business, and sometimes you need to know your limits on what can be done.”

“But-”

“No buts,” San adds, “you did what you could today. That’s all that matters.”

You nod silently and take another small bite out of your wrap before placing it down on the plate again. When you get stressed like this, you hardly want to eat anything. You know it’s an unhealthy habit, but it’s just how you function. Despite your quiet state, your three boyfriends seem to easily flow through conversation. Some sort of ugly jealousy curls through your stomach. The way they seem to fit together easily without any seams makes you feel almost out of place in a way. You’re not willing to address that with your current state of mind, though.

“Hops,” Yeosang calls quietly; you look up at him, “You didn’t hear me, did you?” He chuckles sweetly, “Who do you want to crash with tonight?”

You nibble at your lower lip, “I think I’ll stay in my nest tonight.”

“Do you want one or more of us to–” You cut Seonghwa off before he can finish his question.

“No!” You blurt out, “I want to sketch out some more projects, and I’d hate to keep you up.”

“You know that won’t bother us, treasure.” San reminds you, “I’d much rather you get some good rest than workshop more projects.”

“I’ll be fine, San, I promise.” You stand up abruptly, ignoring the (barely) half-eaten wrap. “Good night boys. Love you!”

You bolt to the room your nest and work area are in. The moment you firmly shut the door, you sit down at your desk and hunch over the same bracelet you’ve been working on all day.

Even after slaving over projects for the next two days, it feels like you’ve made no progress. You’re pacing back and forth in your studio and nest space, hoping that inspiration strikes you to at least finish one project. A soft knock sounds on your door again. This time Yeosang is the one who pops his head through the doorway. You’re worrying on the edge of your ear and continue pacing even though you feel your boyfriend’s worried eyes on you. 

“Hops,” His low voice sounds through the space, “Sannie and Hwa already headed out for the day. They thought you were still sleeping when they were leaving.” He explains.

“I’ve been up for a while.” You respond flatly, “I need to get this shit done.”

Yeosang is slightly taken aback. You’ve never been one to curse. So to hear you say such a word was not what he was expecting to come from your mouth. He steps closer and grabs you gently to stop you from pacing anymore. You look up at him and see the worry swirling in his green eyes. He pulls you into a hug. You’ve come to learn that he’s not very physically affectionate outside your heat. So the fact that he has you wrapped in a hug, your face buried in his chest, means a lot. His minty scent invades your senses, giving you a momentary feeling of peace. That lingering panic and fear creeps back into you when he pulls away.

“Take a break from your projects, Hops.” He reminds you, “Stepping away from a project can do wonders sometimes.”

You nod, “I will.”

It may be a half-truth, but you don’t want to worry him if you don’t need to. He places a soft kiss against the top of your head and takes another step back.

“I have to go meet a client. Unfortunately, all three of us are out of the house for the rest of the day.” He sighs, “I should be back around dinner time. San said he has a business dinner tonight, and Seonghwa is closing the shop today since Yun is off.”

“I’m a big bunny,” You try to joke, “I can take care of myself.”

“I know, little one,” He smiles softly, “Just giving you the rundown for the day. I’ll see you at dinner, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod, your snow-white ears twitching slightly when he gently scratches the base of them.

Yeosang is out the door, and a few moments later, you hear the front door of the penthouse close too. You debate your options for a few moments before deciding to get a drink before returning to work. You aren’t fully sure who’s home right now. At least you know Yunho is home. You’re about ninety percent sure Mingi is at his university lecturing right now. It’s likely that Wooyoung is at his dance studio, and you haven’t seen Hongjoong in about three days. When you get to the kitchen, you find that Jongho is home too. He’s sitting at the small breakfast bar sipping on a mug of tea. You shuffle behind him, being sure not to knock into his deep blue tail. You reach up into the cabinet to get a glass when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You nearly jump out of your skin and end up dropping the glass, causing it to shatter on the counter. Immediately, Yunho moves to make sure you’re okay and explains he wasn’t trying to scare you. Your fight-or-flight instincts kick in, and you’re already down the hall and back in your nest. The first thing you can think to do is grab the duffle bag and start stuffing clothing into it. Tears are threatening to fall from your eyes, but you hold them back for now. You can smell the two men that are home. They’re still down the hallway. However, your senses are out of sorts due to your panicked state. 

Again, a knocking sounds on the door frame. You whip your head around, and your ears twitch around, trying to find one sound to focus on. Your nose twitches even more as you take in the dark blue dragon standing in the doorway. Jongho steps into the space when you don’t speak, knowing you need someone to calm you down. He would have never breached your space without your permission had you been more stable mentally. 

“Where are you off to?” He asks gently.

That’s when your tears burst through fully. You start sobbing and find yourself face-first in Jongho’s sweater before you can stop yourself. He awkwardly wraps his arms around you and tries to soothe you. The room is only filled with sniffles and loud sobs as you stand there in the golden-eyed dragon’s arms. You’re completely unaware of how long you cry in his arms, but when you finally slow to a sniffle, you pull your face away from his sweater. There’s a large wet spot from the amount of crying you just did. There’s a bit of snot, too, which you cringe at and immediately try to wipe off with your own sweater. You can feel his strong chest beneath the fluffy material, but your mental state is hardly focused on the dragon’s physique. Your head is pounding from crying, which doesn’t help the situation at all. Jongho still has his arms wrapped around you, securing you in your spot.

“You need to talk about anything?” He offers quietly.

“Are you sure you want to hear all of that?” You chuckle, trying to downplay your emotions.

“You need it. We both know that.” He sighs, not letting you divert anything.

Suddenly you’re very aware of his arms wrapped around you and how comforting it feels. You find yourself nodding at him.

“Do you want to go to a neutral space, or are you comfortable right here?” He searches your pale blue eyes for any discomfort as he asks.

You appreciate how respectful of your boundaries he’s being. You know you need this, and he does too. Damn him and his phenomenal therapist skills. 

“We can stay here…” You bite your lip, debating whether or not you want to ask him a specific question or not. You decide to throw caution to the wind and ask. “Do- do you um… could we-”

“What’s up Hops?”

“Well… I’m kind of all over the place, and… do you care if we cuddle while I vent?”

“Would that make you feel more comfortable?” he asked again.

You nod, “It would…”

“In your nest?”

“Yeah… if that’s okay.”

“Lead the way.”

Jongho releases you from his hold and allows you to get comfortable in bed where your nest is before he approaches it. You shift a little bit allowing Jongho to climb in beside you. The dragon is slightly stiff as he gets semi-comfortable. You snuggle close to him, which makes him melt beneath you. He wraps an arm around you and sighs with a small smile on his face.

“What’s on that mind of yours, Hops?” He asks once you’re both comfortable. 

“A lot of things… where should I start?”

“Wherever you want to.” He offers, small vines wrapping around his fingers as you get more comfortable.

“I feel like an outsider.” You admit, “And like a failure…”

“What makes you say that? You have your fluffle, and you’re part of the Thunder now. You have a successful business making jewelry.”

“I haven’t been able to finish a single project for days now, and I feel horrible. These people are waiting for me to finish these pieces for them and-” You start crying again. 

“Take your time.” He reminds you, “Do you wanna hear my two cents on this, or do you want to continue what you were saying.”

“You can talk.” You sniffle, burying your face against his sweater.

He wraps his arm around you tighter. The small vines tickle against your jaw lightly as his fingers hold your shoulder. You find yourself sinking further into his touch subconsciously.

“Here’s what I think.” He starts, “Everyone has their own threshold. When you reach that threshold, you can’t do it anymore. You need a break. Your limit is different from mine and different from the others in the Thunder. You need to give yourself breaks, Hops.”

“I know, but-”

“No buts, bunny.”

“But, Jongho…” You pout, “You’re super successful in your career, San owns a whole monopoly, Seonghwa and Yunho own a tattoo shop-”

“And you have a very successful jewelry business.” He stops you mid-sentence, “Just cause we have more income doesn’t mean that you’re unsuccessful.”

You nod and nibble at your lip. You feel a thumb against your lip, gently pulling it from between your teeth. When you look up at Jongho, you see him giving you a gentle, borderline endearing look. It steals your breath away for a moment. Your ears go lax as you maintain eye contact with the navy dragon. You take note of how his navy scales frame his face perfectly and how they contrast against his bright red hair. Suddenly, you snap back to reality and shake your head slightly to ground yourself.

“I know that but still…”

“Still what?” He prods lightly.

“You guys seem actually to get work done, and I’m still fighting with this same necklace that I’ve been working on all week. I have a damn sketch of the thing, and I can’t even do it.” You groan.

“What’s on paper doesn’t always convey in practice. Have you tried looking at it or approaching it a new way?” He asks, his thumb gently caressing your arm as he speaks.

“... No…” You admit, gaze dropping down to your fingers,  “I’ve been very set on the style, and my customer really likes the design I sketched…”

“And it’s your business.” He reminds you, “If you need to rework things because it’s impossible to do in practice, they need to understand that or lose their deposit on the art.”

You nod silently. Jongho notices you remain quiet after providing his two cents on your situation. There’s far more to your issue, and he knows it. He moves his navy blue tail to be draped over his thigh and, by proxy, wrap around yours. The tip of it rests against your lower back. And while you’re used to dragon tails resting against you, Jongho’s tail feels almost foreign to you but absolutely not unwelcomed. 

“I know that’s not all, bun.” He sighs, letting the arm wrapped around you hold you just a bit tighter, “What else is going through that mind of yours?”

You look up at him and see his golden eyes fixated on you, “I don’t think you want to hear about my relationship right now.”

“I want you to feel better.” He assures, “Tell me what’s going on.”

You find yourself curling closer to the dragon and tucking your head just below his chin. You feel a few scales along his jaw, but it’s nothing that bothers you. After all, you live here with them almost all the time now; you’re no stranger to scales touching you. Your ears are pushed back and lying flat against your hair overtop Jongho’s arm. You feel him relax further after his initial tensing. 

“Well… about a week ago, we were, um…” You didn’t know how to phrase it to him.

“You were having sex, okay. What went wrong to make you feel so uncomfortable and try to run away today?”

“How did you know I was gonna say that?” You try to deflect.

Jongho chuckles airily, “You're going to tell me I’m wrong?” You don’t answer, “So, what happened that got you to this point.”

You sigh and debate whether you want to let it all out or tell him just to forget about it. It wasn’t that big a deal, right? Jealously happens in relationships. Jealousy looks different in yours because instead of two people, there are five. 

“Smells like burnt cookies.” Jongho points out, “Just say it before you end up smelling like a burnt kitchen rather than overbaked cookies.” He teases lightly.

“I feel like an outsider in my own relationship.”

“Okay, why do you feel like that? You know San, Seonghwa, and Yeosang would burn the world to the ground if you asked them.”

You feel the tears well up in your eyes again. One escapes and lands on Jongho’s barely damp sweater. Though you know, Jongho can’t see your eyes with your face tucked under his chin. He does seem to know you’re having an emotional hurricane internally. You feel his tail press a bit harder against your body as if to mock some weighted blanket to help you relax.

“They just seem so happy together. I felt like after that very awkward sex that I was just a hookup again.”

“That bad?” He sighs, “I know you know how the Thunder functioned before San and Seonghwa brought you home. Hell, Yunho, and Mingi are worse than you’re polycule sometimes.” He lightens the air, “Remember, you’re the glue that holds those boys together. Yes, they would casually hook up with each other before you were introduced to us, but the dates, talking about how they feel, regulating their schedules… Hops, that’s all thanks to your influence on this Thunder. It feels like I’ve tried to have interventions more often with them than with my clients. Something about you made it click, though.”

“Jongho?”

“Yeah?”

You don’t know what overtakes you, but you untuck your face from his chest and kiss his cheek. You realize what you’ve done after you see Jongho’s slightly shocked expression. Your nose starts to twitch as panic rises in your throat again. Jongho’s strong hold keeps you in your place, along with his tail still lying across your legs and along your back. 

“It’s okay, bun.” He assures, “You just surprised me. If you want to ask something when you’re in the right headspace, you can do so. You’re not in a completely clear or stable mental place right now, though.”

You nod, “Sorry,”

“Nothing to apologize for. Come back here and get comfy again.” He offers, “You rant, and I’ll listen.”

You tuck yourself back against the dark blue dragon and almost feel like you’re at home in his arms. A tug in your heart makes itself known. Of course, it would now, when you’re in the midst of emotional and relational turmoil. Jongho smooths a hand over your hair and ears as you start rambling about everything that’s been bothering you. From missing your fluffle to work to your boyfriends’ dynamic. You feel small amounts of weight press against your hair.

“What’s in my hair?” You ask, “I feel something.”

“I’m weaving flowers in.” He says casually, “Do you want me to take them out?” 

“N-no,” You feel the heat of a blush rush to your face, “Tell me about the flowers.”

“There’s a few red carnations, that’s all. Some are full blooms, others are half-blooms. They look nice against your hair. I like the contrast from how pure white your ears are too.”

You pull your body to be sitting up. Jongho is still lying down, and his eyebrows scrunch together in confusion.

“You can put them and more flowers in my hair all you want. I’m giving you more space to work with while I talk.” You explain, “I like that you’re playing with my hair.”

A smile graces his lips, and you barely see his fangs peek out. He conjures a small bouquet of little dainty pink and white flowers. One moment there was nothing there, and the next, the flowers were in his hand.

“So, as I was saying, I love my boyfriends, but it’s hard not to feel excluded when they know each other like their favorite things in the world. It really hurt me when I saw San and Yeosang cuddling while Seonghwa tossed the wet wipes at me. I know I’m newest to whatever dynamics were happening here before, but…” You interrupt yourself with a sigh, “I’m still their girlfriend, and it doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”

Jongho accidentally tugs at your hair while braiding a flower into it, making you yelp slightly.

“Sorry,” He quickly apologizes, “I know it hurts to just feel like a side piece in your relationship. You also need to communicate how you’re feeling, though. I know, ironic when you have three emotionally constipated dragon boyfriends, but it’s true.”

“I just don’t want to make them mad at me…”

“If they get mad at you for having normal emotions, then I’ll personally make them each a batch of poison ivy tea when I refill the tea satchels.”

You giggle lightly and feel Jongho move your hair over your shoulder, signifying that he’s done meticulously intertwining each flower with your hair. You turn around and face him. He’s sitting criss-cross in your nest still. His golden eyes practically melt you as he gives you an affectionate look. Those tugs at your heart return, this time accompanied by a tornado of butterflies in your stomach.

“You feel better now?” He asks softly.

You nod, “I needed that a lot more than I realized.”

He opens his arms, “You still look like you need some comforting before you talk to your boys.”

You climb into his lap, slotting your legs around his hips, and feel his strong arms wrap around your waist in a tight hug. You bury your face in the crook of his neck. Your nose fills with his book scent, and it instantly relaxes you. You don’t break away even when you hear the penthouse door open and click shut again. You’re so engulfed in his scent you don’t even know who’s returning to the lair. Jongho’s arms tighten around you even more. Then, you process the sniffles you’re letting out. You’re not even sure if you’re feeling the emotional aftermath of the day or if you’re nervous about the confrontation later, but you’re sniffling back tears again. Your tears slide down Jongho’s neck and along the snake tattoo that looks as if it’s curling around his collarbone. He doesn’t say anything about it. He doesn’t question why you’re crying or make any comment to stop you from feeling what you do. He lets you feel. It’s just what you need right now. 

“What’s this?” You hear San snarl.

You tense in Jongho’s hold. Fight or flight instincts beg you to bolt for the door, even if San grabs you in the process. The only thing stopping you is Jongho’s arms holding you in place. Suddenly, Jongho rips a flower out of your hair. You yelp at the sudden movement and then see the navy dragon shaking out a singed red carnation. You know San didn’t mean any harm to you. When he was pissed, he tended to lose complete control of what he did with his magic.

“Hops.” He snarls, “I need to talk to you. Alone. Now.”

He hasn’t called you that since you officially started dating him. Hearing the neutral nickname sounds foreign to your ears in the worst way possible. You’ve never seen him direct his anger at you, either. Your heart rate spikes again, and your nose twitches at the speed of light. Subconsciously you grip onto Jongho, maybe to try to soothe yourself. You don’t want to think too hard about why it was comforting to you.

“Talk to him. It’ll be okay. If not, remember what I told you.” He ends his sentence with a slight chuckle.

You nod and climb out of Jongho’s lap. Your eyes linger on his golden eyes, noticing how his pupils dilate as he looks back at you. While you’d love to think it’s out of affection toward you, you decide to believe it’s simply to help calm you further. Jongho gets out of your nest and dismisses himself from the space. You watch as a vine curls around the door nob and pulls the white wood door shut. The tension is tangible enough as it is, but when the therapist dragon leaves, it becomes almost suffocating. San’s silver eyes are slit so thinly you can hardly see his pupils at all. It’s as if they don’t exist at all. 

“I-it wasn’t what it looked like…” You say, trying to ease a bit of the tension.

“Are you sure, Hops?” He practically growls, “It sure looked like you were getting too cozy with someone who isn’t one of your boyfriends. We said you could cuddle with the others if you needed it. That was crossing a line, though.”

Normally seeing your deep purple scaled boyfriend dressed for the office sends you into a mood that you would put in a similar category to your heat. Now, though, it only strikes fear in you. You so desperately wish to crumble under his stare and submit to your prey tendencies. You swallow that urge and hold your head high, remembering Jongho’s words. 

I know it hurts to just feel like a side piece in your relationship. You also need to communicate how you’re feeling, though.

“Would you have rather me run away back to my fluffle without a word to any of you?” You bite back, throwing your arm in the direction of your half-packed duffle bag, “You, Seonghwa, and Yeosang have been making me feel like I’m not even part of our relationship anymore. Had Jongho not stopped me, I would’ve been gone for hours by now. Yes, the cuddling could be seen as crossing a line, but he’s the reason I didn’t go running out mere moments after Yeosang left.”

“Treasure…” San starts, trying to step closer to you.

You put your hand up, and it’s as if you put up an invisible block in front of him.

“Let me speak.” You sigh, “You three communicate without words. You’ve been involved with each other in many different ways long before I was brought to the Thunder. After last week’s events… seeing how easily you knew how to take care of Yeosang while you three practically ignored me and let me handle myself hurt. I’m your girlfriend, but the longer I’m here, the more I feel like just a hookup you brought in with your two boyfriends for some extra fun.”

You let out a shaky breath. You don’t want to cry telling him all of that, but you feel your eyes fill with tears. There’s no way you’ll be able to stop them from falling. You sniffle and let your gaze fall down to your feet rather than looking at your boyfriend. He doesn’t move. That invisible block is still fixated in front of him.

As if the timing couldn’t be worse, you smell Seonghwa’s sweet strawberry jam scent enter the home accompanied by Yeosang’s peppermint tea. It’s as if he knows there’s tension, too. You know your scent is burnt, and San’s is far stormier than his typical calm sea breeze scent. Your eldest boyfriend doesn’t even knock. He invites himself and Yeosang into your bedroom and is greeted by your crying figure and San a few steps away with tendrils of smoke escaping the corners of his lips. Yeosang is the first to step closer, placing a kiss on San’s cheek, only solidifying your emotions. Comforting San before stepping closer to you.

“Tell me what’s going on.” Yeosang asks quietly, wrapping his arms around your frame.

You try to break out of his hold, but you’re no match for his strength. Angry tears keep rolling down your cheeks as you stay trapped in his hold.

“Look at me.” Authority rings in his tone. 

This time, you look at him.

“Am I that unloveable?” You snap.

“Treasure, please.” San says weakly. 

“Yeosang.” You say flatly, “Let me go.”

Your bronze boyfriend backs off. All three of them are clearly concerned about you and trying to figure out why you just asked the question you did. Your nose is still twitching, and tears are still staining your cheeks.

“We need to have a long talk. All four of us.” You huff.

You settle in your nest, wrapping yourself in a throw blanket that smells much more like Jongho than any of your boyfriends. You see the jealousy in San’s eyes as you do so. Yeosang is on your work stool, Seonghwa is sitting in your reading chair, and San is still brooding, leaning against your closed bedroom door. You can’t escape. It’s probably for the best; you need to say this.

“I kinda yelled this at San already, but… you three have been neglecting me.”

You watch as the confusion etches in Seonghwa’s face. He had been spending the most time with you compared to your other two boyfriends. Yeosang’s reaction isn’t as visible, but you know he’s just as confused. San knows, though. He hates that you’re saying it again. 

“I feel like a hookup again. You three are so seamless with each other and don’t seem to give me any care. Last week, Seonghwa… you just threw the wet wipes at me while San took care of Yeosang with so much care… that fucking hurt. I almost ran away today. Jongho stopped me.”

“Treasure… we love you so much. I’m sorry I did that. I wasn’t even thinking about it-” Seonghwa tries to explain.

“I know… it doesn’t change that it hurt… still hurts worse than hell. San came home and found me cuddling with Jongho in a way that was a bit compromising. There was nothing inappropriate happening. I promise. And–” You stop yourself.

“What is it, Hops?” Yeosang asks quietly, “We need to know everything.”

“I kissed him.” You admit, “I was on such an emotional rollercoaster, and he made me feel safe and loved… I didn’t think about what I did until after it happened.”

None of them speak. It scares the hell out of you. Your pale blue eyes flit between all three of them. Their expressions are unreadable. Well, San’s isn’t. A fresh curl of smoke escapes his nose as he wills his flames back down his throat.

“Did you like it?” Yeosang asks again.

You hadn’t thought about that. Did you? It was so spur of the moment you didn’t actually think about how it made you feel. Your heart feels like it’s on fire. It aches. 

“I did.” You admit.

“What do you want that to mean for us?” Seonghwa adds.

“I know we’re on delicate grounds right now…” You sigh, wrapping the blanket tighter around yourself, “I feel the same pull toward him that I do towards you three.”

“Transparency, right?” San finally speaks, “I’m so fucking jealous, but you’re right… we haven’t been caring for you the way we’ve been caring for each other. We should all make an effort to meet each other where we are. All four of us. And–” he stops himself, “If you want Jongho, we can invite him.”

“Seonghwa? Yeosang?” You ask, ears shifting towards them.

“Honestly…” Yeosang sighs, “I miss being with Jongho. We also knew in this Thunder we have a tendency to share, even with San’s jealous streak.” He pokes fun at his purple boyfriend.

“I’m always happy to do anything that helps our relationship and ultimately you, Treasure. I love all my Thunder, and I love you.”

A smile breaks out on your lips, and tears start streaming again. San is the first to approach you. He wraps his arms around you, tail curling protectively around your waist. You feel both of your other boyfriends join moments later.

“I love you, Treasure.” San whispers against your bunny ear.

“I love you.” You sniffle back.

“We all love you.” Yeosang kisses your other ear.

After a long discussion about what each of you needed from each other, you begin discussing who should approach Jongho about joining. It’s out of the question for San to do so. The last time San and Jongho interacted was when he walked in on you, cuddling with the dark blue dragon. Ultimately, Yeosang is chosen. He’s the closest to him, and they think the same way. Their history together before Yeosang started dating you just adds to why he should be the one to ask. Yeosang is also the newest boyfriend. Having Seonghwa go to the youngest dragon could end badly, given that Seonghwa has been dating you longer than Yeosang has.

You go with Yeosang down the hall toward Jongho’s bedroom. You stay outside the door as Yeosang gets permission to enter the space. Instantly, you hear laughter and feel how light the atmosphere is in the room. You see a few hanging plants through the small crack in the door. You haven’t seen many of their bedrooms in great detail, but seeing greenery in Jongho’s room makes warmth spread in your chest.

“Treasure,”

You’re taken aback when you hear the pet name. It’s not Yeosang’s voice. It’s Jongho’s. You step closer to the door. Popping your head through the door, white ears tall on your head, you see Jongho’s golden eyes giving you that same adoring look he had earlier. Yeosang has a soft, comfortable smile on his lips. His hand is outstretched, and you find yourself curling into his side.

Jongho’s room is exactly how you expected it to be. Plants are everywhere, not so much that it’s crowded, but it adds a comforting and homey touch to the space. He has a desk against the far wall, framed by bookshelves. His bed has a wall of vines behind it with purple flowers randomly throughout them. There’s something about the space that is so shamelessly Jongho.

“Is there something you wanted to ask me, Treasure?” Jongho asks with a soft smirk on his lips.

You nod, and your eyes shift up to your green-eyed boyfriend. He just nods slightly at you and gives you a comforting smile.

“Jongho… would you like to be my boyfriend?” You ask.

Yeosang removes his arm from around you as Jongho steps closer to you. The gold-eyed dragon hybrid takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, making you look up at him. You want so desperately to melt at the touch but you hold your ground somehow. Your ears instantly fall back against your head as your chin tilts up. The flowers are still woven into your hair and tickle against your ears, making them twitch slightly. Jongho takes his other hand to pluck some flowers from your hair.

“Red carnations: admiration, devotion,” he states, twirling it in between his fingers. He shifts his hold on the flowers to show the small white and pink flowers. “Aster: faith, love. Does that answer your question, Treasure?”

“Jongho?” You ask, dazed by his words.

“Yes, Treasure. I’d love to date you.” He smiles a bright, gummy smile, “May I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You practically breathe out.

His lips are on yours a moment later, and you feel an explosion of emotion. The hand that was previously holding the flowers wraps around your waist and pulls you closer to his body. It’s almost as if you’re the only two in the world. When he pulls away, you see his heavily dilated gold eyes. Your hand reaches up to brush against a few scales by his hairline before carding into his hair behind his ear. Before you can get lost in the moment again, Yeosang swoops in and kisses your cheek before leaning over to Jongho and kissing his cheek as well. He wraps his arms around both of you. You turn your head to see your two other boyfriends in the doorway with sweet smiles on their faces. They come into the room and join the hug. Yeah, everything felt better now. They felt like home, and your heart aches out of pure love for your four boyfriends.

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[enchantedchocolatebars]

Witte Solstice - Chapter 18

Cover art by @leespinoodle.

Fic written by me (enchantedchocolatebars) and @leespinoodle.

Summary: It's winter in the Boiling Isles, and Caleb prepares to celebrate the solstice with his wife, his friends… and hopefully, with Beardo Philip! Philip swears he'll never partake in the satanic holidays of those demonic witches. But when Caleb invites him over for the solstice… maybe he’ll find himself making an exception.

Ao3 version

It was a quick trek back to Philip's cave, and Caleb immediately got to work examining the entrance.

"You see, the problem here is that the entrance is north-facing, and thus, it receives very little sunlight. You really ought to have picked a place with a south-facing entrance so that the sun would melt the ice for you."

Caleb gave the block of ice a gentle tap.

"Luckily, I think I have something that can help."

Caleb produced a flask from under his cloak. An aroma like hot peppers escaped as it was uncorked. "Fire oil! It treats frostbite and can stave off hypothermia in a pinch. If it can warm up a limb, why not melt ice?"

"Fire oil?" Philip inquired. The brunette was unfamiliar with this type of magic oil. Sure, he's heard of fire glyphs, as he's been a frequent user of them, but never fire oil.

Blue eyes flashed with genuine fascination as Philip commented, "Interesting," before asking, "Would you mind giving a demonstration on how it works, Caleb?"

The younger didn't have his journal with him, but he would make sure to take mental notes while viewing his brother.

"Alright." Caleb splashed a bit of the fire oil on the ice. It was a thin, slightly orange liquid that began to sizzle and pop immediately upon contact with the ice.

Caleb stepped back and watched as the oil began to burn a hole in the ice straight through to the other side. He grinned as he admired his handy work.

"Fascinating! I have never tried that before. To be honest, I wasn't even sure it would do anything. I ought to jot that down in my potions book when I return home."

Philip had seen his brother do many impressive things back in their younger years, but such things paled in comparison to witnessing him splash some of the fire oil that he had on the ice.

The brunette backed away as well, watching the oil do its magic on the ice.

Philip's gaze shifted from the hole in the ice to Caleb.

"That was…"

Philip mentally searched for a more ingenious term to describe what he had just witnessed, but all he could utter out in a whisper was, "...Amazing."

Even as an adult, Philip still admired certain things his brother did, even if he kept the compliments to himself.

Once the youthful twinkles in his eyes faded, Philip cleared his throat and tried to appear more mature rather than like a starry-eyed child.

"You wouldn't happen to have more fire oil on you, would you, Caleb?" Philip asked.

Such a source would definitely be of use to him in the future.

"Unfortunately, that was all I had on me, but I can make more later." Caleb pocketed the flask.

"Very well then," Philip accepted composedly.

Just as he was about to turn on his heel and walk back into his cave, he gazed at his brother once more.

"Thank you again, Caleb. While I remain firm on my decision not to visit your home because of her, I want you to know that I truly do care for you, dear brother. When you eventually decide to depart from the witch, you're always welcome to come stay with me."

Philip was eagerly anticipating the arrival of that day.

He and Caleb would finally go back to normal.

Caleb's shoulders drooped, and his smile faded. "... Why must you be this way? Why can't you trust that I know what I'm doing? If you truly do care for me, why can't you accept that I'm happier here than I ever was in Gravesfield?"

Philip tightens his jaws, his hands forming fists of rage and pure fury.

He stomped his foot. "Because it's not true!" he roared, stomping a second time. "It's simply not true! There's no way in God's name that this horrible place makes you happier than home! This place is not meant for us! We don't belong here! Ugh!"

Turning away sharply from his brainwashed brother, the brunette stormed off into his cave.

[rea-grimm]

Deal with the devil - Shanks

You've been sailing with Shanks and his crew for quite some time now. You followed him from East Blue to the Grand Line. However, you had no idea what was waiting for you.

A few days after you got to the 3rd island, you got sick. No one knew what was wrong with you. You had fevers and chills for the first few days, but then that went away and all that was left was fatigue.

You originally thought you were cured, but when you passed out out of the blue, it was clear you weren't quite fit. Every day you got more tired and ended up lying in bed or outside in the hammock.

You spent most of the day alone in a hammock on the beach. Someone always came to see you and you also slept a lot.

Shanks was already slightly tipsy from the bar, but he still took the bottle and went over to you to keep you company.

"How do you feel?" he asked you and kissed your cheek.

“Tired,” you replied and gave a weak smile. You had no idea why, but his presence always cheered you up.

“Hongo is working on a cure and so are we,” he said taking your hand.

“I know,” you smiled weakly. You knew they had been working hard on it and that they too needed a little rest.

“You'll get over it for sure,” he said and in that moment you truly believed his words.

"You'll get better and then we'll have a proper celebration, as it should be." 

Shanks sat down next to the hammock and told you everything that had happened during the day. What happened that was interesting or what brought a smile to your face.

It was slowly getting dark and you still enjoyed the sunset next to the man you loved before falling asleep.

You still faintly felt him cover you with his coat and kiss your forehead good night before you fell completely asleep.

Once you fell asleep, Shanks went to get another bottle. He was worried about your health, but he knew that he wouldn't help you with worries.

With his new bottle, he sat down next to you again and drank. He wanted to help you get better, but he had no idea what could save your life.

He even thought about getting a devil fruit for you, but he didn't know of any free ones that could save your life.

Shanks was almost halfway through the bottle when he noticed a strange figure looking at you.

“A very nice flower. Although she looks like she's slowly withering away,” the stranger spoke before Shanks could say anything.

"I'm sure she'll get over it," Shanks replied, setting the bottle down and focusing on the stranger he didn't like at all.

"What if I told you I could heal her?" said the devil looking at the redheaded captain. At the same time, his eyes shone like two flames at night.

“Y/N doesn't need help from someone like you,” he replied sternly, resting his hand on the Gryphon's hilt.

"How about I offer you a new hand on top of that, hmm?" he didn't give up.

"Try making your offers somewhere other than my crew," Shanks said sternly. The devil tried to give him a few more tempting offers, one better than the other, but it didn't work with Shanks.

Demon tried another offer, but the captain ran out of patience and used Conqueror Haki on him. The devil crouches to the ground under his gaze before disappearing completely.

Shanks didn't see the demon anywhere for the next day and figured he had given up. He was glad for that and stood up for you that you were strong enough to overcome your illness. You didn't need any shady deals to get out of this.

On this day, the crew decided to take a day off. Although they drank yesterday, they also had enough from the hunt for the cure and deserved at least a day off. Despite all that, Hongo was working on your cure.

The rest of the crew had been drinking since morning itself, and of course, Shanks joined them. He went to get a bottle of rum when he noticed the box with the last bottle.

He had the impression that he had never seen such a bottle before, uncorked it and smelled it. He didn't have to think twice and drank straight away. He had no idea that he had such good rum on board. He guessed that you could have bought it while you were still well.

He followed the others with the bottle. He was having a good time and almost forgot about the devil. He was having such a good time that he didn't even notice when he put the bottle aside for a moment that it had disappeared. No one noticed this little detail at all.

Shanks managed to get so drunk that he barely staggered over to you. Before you could ask him anything, he collapsed next to the palm tree and fell asleep.

It was surprisingly strange to see Shanke so drunk. Most of the time, no one was enough for him to drink. You also fell asleep after a while.

After a few hours, you woke up full of energy like never before. You had the impression that your body was full of power.

You were even able to climb out of the hammock by yourself. You couldn't even describe how amazing it felt to stand on your feet again without someone supporting you, threatening to collapse to the ground.

As you climbed out of the hammock, Shanks, who had been snoring lightly until now, woke up. He stretched and squinted around before finally coming to his senses. His eyes then fell on you as you stood outside the net and a wide smile spread across his face. At that moment the hangover was gone.

"You stand! How do you feel?" he scrambled to his feet and took your hand. 

“Much better and full of energy,” you smiled. Shanks nodded his head in satisfaction before hugging you. It was as if a giant weight had been lifted from his heart. This is a celebration!

And with this plan, everyone drank properly that you were recovering. The rum was flowing and everyone was celebrating.

Originally, it was supposed to be celebrated until the very morning and later. However, no one expected that the captain would be affected by alcohol.

Sometime in the middle of the evening, he began to feel dizzy, and his head ached excruciatingly as if it was going to burst. It was the first time you had seen him in such a state.

This time you were the one who had to support Shanks. You were worried if he was overdoing it, but you knew he would be better in the morning.

You led him to the boat and helped him to bed. There he collapsed himself and dragged you down with him. You bumped into him and noticed how his pupils were unnaturally narrowed.

“Get some rest,” You told him, running your fingers through your hair. Shanks groaned in pain and you felt like you felt his bump on his skull. You wondered if he hit his head.

“Sorry,” you apologized and kissed his forehead. Despite all of that, he gave you a weak smile before pulling you into a hug and very soon fell asleep.

A little after midnight, Shanks woke up. He felt like he was on fire, his body was writhing in convulsions and he felt like his head was going to explode.

“I'll go get you something for the pain,” you said and went to Hongo to get some medicine.

In no time you were back with the medicine. You gave a drink to Shanks and it seemed to work as he fell asleep within minutes.

You stayed with him all night and kept watch over him. However, after a while, you also fell asleep.

In the morning, you were only woken up by the light that filtered into the cabin. Despite all that, you didn't want to leave the bed. Maybe also because Shanks was holding you around the waist.

You still closed your eyes and wanted to wait until the captain woke up too, when you felt something wrap around your leg.

You immediately thought it was a snake. In no time you were wide awake and fell out of bed in shock.

From the ground, you still had your foot on the bed, around which you had something wrapped. It seriously reminded you of a black snake, but it didn't have scales and was relatively soft. Besides, you couldn't see the head anywhere.

You carefully unwrapped it at the seams of your leg when you noticed that it led from the captain. Only then did you experience the shock. Shanks was still asleep, but dark, twisted horns were sticking out of his head.

“Shanks,” you said shaking him. "Get up." The captain slowly woke up and looked sleepily at you with red almost glowing eyes.

"Is it morning yet?" he asked still sleepy trying to pull you close.

"Did you eat the devil's fruit?" you asked as it seemed like the only possible explanation.

"No, why?" and he ran a hand through his hair. When he did, he was immediately startled, as he felt horns that he certainly hadn't had there before. Shock immediately replaced his carefree expression.

“Shall I come for Hongo?” you asked. But Shanks just shook his head, as he had the impression that it had nothing to do with the doctor.

He rubbed his chin and thought. He immediately thought of the strange man who had been circling you a day ago. He offered him healing in exchange for something. But he never told him what the price was.

It was too many coincidences at once. Demon, good booze, your healing and his change. However, he was sure that he had rejected him.

On the one hand, he was glad that you had recovered, but this was bothering him. Besides, he wasn't sure what he had traded for your health. Sure, he looked more like a demon now, but he hoped that was the end of it.

"Do you know what it is?" you asked him sitting down next to him. You took his hand and noticed he had long claws instead of fingernails.

"I have a hunch," he replied and told them what had happened and what he thought it was.

“I didn't want to accept it because I know how strong you are,” he said looking into your eyes. His were a little different now, but his warmth hadn't disappeared from them. His new tail wrapped itself around your leg like a snake, as if he was looking for comfort near you.

Shanks Masterlist

[ghoulishlygrey]

Hammer Meets Steel Chapter One

Find chapter two here <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Dammon x fem!reader

18+ MDNI

Tags: Oral sex, horns for handles, creampie

Read it on Ao3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You and your loyal companions had successfully defeated and cast out the remaining goblins. The grove, ever so thankful, offered to host a party in your honor, and to that you said, “how can I refuse?”

Dammon stood on the outskirts of the party, back leaned against a lone tree as he sipped from the bottle grasped between his fingers. He looked down, blue eyes peering down its neck to find it basically empty, “damn,” he muttered, pushing off the tree to find more wine. Instead, the sight he was met with made him stop in his tracks, the sight of the hero of the grove; the sight of you. You were standing by the fire, drink in hand and a lovely smile on your face, a smile that made Dammon stand still. 

It took him back to that first day, the first moment he laid his eyes on you. You had just defeated the goblin ambush outside, your plate armor was smeared with blood, your hair wild, untamed even. You had brushed right past Arron’s wares, and beelined straight to his shoddy forge.

 “I need some real steel,” you had said with a mischievous twinkle in your eye as you peered over at Dammon, “and I think you can help me with that.”

In that moment, as Dammon stared, star-struck at your grimey, cut-up face, he could’ve sworn he was in love with you. Which was ridiculous really, for Hell's sake he hadn’t even said a word to you yet. He cleared his throat, “Well, I do what I can.” He gave you an easy smile and shrugged his shoulder towards his wares, “You’re welcome to take a look, though it’s not much.” 

And now here he was, standing in your camp, with an empty bottle. Right, he needs a new bottle, that was a good plan. But just as he was going to reach into the wine crate, his eyes flickered up and caught with yours. And, Gods, that *smile*. If a smile could kill, Dammon would’ve been one of your many, many slain souls. And for what’s more, you were walking straight towards him.

“Hey,” you greeted, bending down to retrieve your own bottle, Dammon tried not to realize he could peer down your shirt if his eyes flickered down. Instead he just cleared his throat and averted his gaze.

“Quite the party.” He said, uncorking his new bottle. 

“I know right? It’s so good to see everyone happy after all that’s happened.” You replied, giving him a warm smile.

“I think everyone deserves a good break after everything.” He says, taking a sip from his wine.

“I couldn’t agree more,” you said, your smile turning wry before continuing, “it’s nice to see you away from the forge.” 

He chuckles, “And I’m surprised you’re alone, usually you have at least three of your friends with you.” 

“I finally shook them off,” you tease, looking over your shoulder to find said companions before turning back. “Plus I wanted to get you alone.” 

“Oh?” He could feel his heart skip a beat, then immediately drum up in pace.

“Mhmm. I wanted to thank you for my new sword, the craftsmanship is lovely. I’d never commissioned a sword before but I’m glad I did with you.” 

Oh. You wanted to talk about the sword. 

“Forged from the heart.” The corners of his mouth tease a smile as he makes you laugh, your hand coming to rest on his crossed arm. A slight pink dusts his cheeks and nose at the contact. He clears his throat, Gods, why was he so nervous!?

“I can definitely tell, it feels perfect in my hands. Almost like it was made for me or something.” You tease, giving his arm a squeeze before letting go and returning to your bottle. Dammon could almost cry at the loss of contact, the way your soft hand laid over his sleeve so delicately, he missed it immediately. 

“Hey, do you want to go someplace more… quiet?” You asked, your gaze flicking over to Alfira who was leading everyone in song, loudly chanting the lyrics for the crowd. Dammon’s eyes look between the two, heart pounding against his chest as he nods with an easy smile. 

“Yes, please. I can barely hear you over Alfira, talented as she is.” He replies, sweeping out an arm for you, “lead the way.” 

The two would make their way past the river and into the surrounding forest. “There should be a clearing around here somewhere…” you say, taking his hand in yours as you weave them between the trees. Dammon tries not to focus on the fact it feels like his hands were on fire with you holding him like this. Eventually, to Dammon’s dismay, you let go of him, motioning forward with your hand as he steps in front of you and into the clearing. It was beautiful. Tall, dark trees lined the circle clearing like a formidable wall, keeping everyone who wasn’t them at bay, giving them the privacy Dammon so craved. Somewhere in the distance he could hear a bubbling creek, faintly tickling his ears with its gentle trickling. In front of him, the clearing was lit by the beams of the moon, so clearly that he could step confidently without a torch leading the way. Fireflies beckoned them closer as they made their way through the tall grass to their perfect spot, which you unclasped your cloak and threw it down as a blanket for the two of you to sit on. 

“Beautiful,” Dammon admitted, looking directly at you, hoping his admission would be confused for the scenery rather than at his true target: you. 

“I agree.” You replied, smile shining brightly through the darkness as you looked around, coming to a seat over your laid out cloak. 

You looked so beautiful tonight. You had recently bathed, that much was apparent from the lack of goblin blood on you, and you had let your hair loose from its usual spot atop your head. You were dressed in a simple tunic and leather pants tucked into high boots. Dammon noticed how the tunic color matched your eyes, making them pop even in the surrounding darkness. You shifted your legs, now pressing your thigh against his, a comfortable silence washed over you both as you took in your surroundings, and he took in the sight of you.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, voice barely above a whisper. You turned to him, eyes wide in surprise as you took in his question. For a second you don’t answer and that second is just enough for Dammon to lose all his nerve, his confidence shriveling up like a fire doused with water.  

“Neverm-“

“Yes.”

“What?” 

“Yes, you can kiss me.” 

But when he hesitates for another moment, it’s you kissing him. The kiss starts off slow at first, lips slotting over each other carefully. You feel Dammon sigh into the kiss, his hands coming up to wrap around your middle carefully, as if he was afraid he might break you. Your arms automatically wrap around his shoulders, hands linking behind his neck as you pull him closer. 

The two of you stay like that for a while, just breathing each other in. Dammon couldn’t hear much outside the pounding of his own heart as you slid your tongue against his bottom lip, asking for access. You let out a little moan when your tongue meets one of his sharp canines, causing him to pull away.

“Did I hurt you?”

The question catches you off guard, you pant slightly from the loss of contact before replying, “No, of course not.”

Dammon’s heart swells at the sight of your kiss-swollen lips as they curve into a cheeky smile. “What?” You say, looking away shyly.Dammon takes your chin between his fingers and brings for face to look at him again, “You’re just so beautiful.”

Those words were all you needed to hear before pulling Dammon back into the kiss, tongue sliding expertly past his lips to meet and swirl around his own. He pulls you into his lap, situating your legs on either side of him so you’re straddling him. You can feel him straining against his pants as you grind down into him, neither of you quite believing that this is actually happening. His hands skate up your thighs, nails leaving little crescent indents as he squeezes the soft flesh. You moan into the kiss as he probes further, thumb brushing over your clothed clit momentarily before shying away.

“Is this ok?” He murmurs against your lips. 

“Yes!” You reply hungrily as your hands slide down his arms, squeezing at the toned biceps. 

“I want you.” You say, pulling back slightly to look into his face, he smiles brightly 

“I’ve wanted you since I met you.” He replies, pulling you back into the kiss, not baring to part with you any longer. Something about that confession had a heat pooling in your core, and ache becoming ever so present between your legs. To know that his thoughts were tainted with the image of you whenever he was at his forge, you wondered just how lewd he got with it, wondered about all the things he wanted to do to you. 

“I want to taste you.” He pants between kisses, head falling to suck on the pulse point in your neck. 

“Oh Gods, yes.” Was your reply before he quickly repositioned you so that he was on top of your laying body. Dammon starts at your neck, kissing slowly down until he meets the collar of your shirt. His hands brush up under the seam of your shirt, before resting his hands upon your ribcage. 

“Gods, you’re perfect.” He whispers softly, almost to himself. “I want to touch you.” 

“Do it,” you reply, hand coming up to cup his face as you watch him from above, “Please.”

Dammon’s hand inch up before securely cupping each breast, he groans at the feeling of you in his hands. Your skin is hot as he gropes, kneading and rolling the tight buds of your nipples between his fingers, you cry out in pleasure, hands instinctively grabbing into his horns as he teases you. 

After a moment, he stops, grabbing onto the hem of your shirt and inching it up slightly, he looks into your eyes. You nod, arms lifting up over your head to aid in your shirt's removal. it was about now that you were glad to have forgone underclothes today. The look on Damon’s face said it all, he was happy about it too. He smirks up at you, but chooses not to say anything. Instead he brings his mouth over one of your sensitive buds, circling it with his hot tongue. Your head lolls back, mouth held open in a silent moan. His hands go to work on your trousers, expert fingers undoing the laces quickly and shucking it down your hips in one fluid tug. 

“You’re killing me here.” He groans out when he looks down and finds out you had forgone your underclothes on the bottom as well. You smile at him, carding your fingers through his tied-up hair.“What can I say? I had my hopes for the night.” And it was true, it seemed that everyone back at camp was getting cozy with someone tonight, and you had had your eyes on Dammon ever since you approached his forge for the first time; you couldn’t help but hope something would happen with him tonight. You felt like the luckiest girl in Faerûn that he chose you tonight, when you were sure this handsome man could have anyone he wanted in the camp. You bask in that fact for a while; he chose you. 

Now that you were entirely nude in front of him, you couldn’t help but feel the least bit exposed. You tug on his shirt.“What about you?” You ask, hands dipping under the hem to lay your hands flat against his navel.“I want to see you too.” You add on, lip slipping between your teeth as you look at him through your lashes. 

“Well since you asked so nicely.” He teases, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips before slipping his tunic over his horns. His body almost floors you, toned and ridged as it lays over you. Your hands naturally go to explore all the infernal ridges and curves of his muscles, gently skating your nails over wherever you could reach. All those years hammering away at the forge, working hard bending metal, really left its mark on his magnificent body, sculpting it perfectly for his occupation. 

“I wasn’t expecting all that.” You tease, smiling up at him. 

“Oh,” A light pink dusts his features, “Perk of the job, I suppose.”

You pull him down for another kiss as you whisper,“You’re perfect.” 

Dammon grinds down on your exposed clit, the material of his trousers rubbing you just right, you bite your hand to keep from crying out. 

“Ah ah,” He tuts, bringing your hand away from your mouth, 

“I want to hear you.”

He starts to kiss his way down your body, making sure to lavish your breasts in attention before moving on, planting feather-light kisses to your belly button and finally kissing your aching cunt. 

Dammon flattens his tongue against your wet folds, humming slightly as he tastes you finally. You cry out when he starts lapping at your hole, tongue moving in and out repeatedly. Your hands go to tangle in his hair, pulling out the hair tie as you do. You grip him for dear life as he works you over, your head falling to the cloak behind you. Dammon lifts your legs over his shoulder for better access, the tip of his nose brushing against your clit. You cry out again,

“F-fuck Dammon!”

His tongue flicks up to your clit and you moan, “Yes! More!” 

Dammon takes your command to heart as his attention seems to turn to your little bundle of nerves, lips wrapping around it and sucking gently. Then he changes tactic, flicking his tongue out to tease your clit, as his hands dig into their position on your thighs. You rock yourself against his mouth, grinding as best as you can and chasing your high as an orgasm appears on the horizon. Just a little more, that’s all you needed, just a little more. 

Dammon seems to recognize this as he returns to your hole, his fingers coming in to substitute the attention on your clit, rubbing small, steady circles on the sensitive nerves. Your legs clutch around his head, squeezing tightly as you chase your orgasm, finally coming on his tongue with a scream. 

When Dammon resurfaces, his face is slick with your juices, his hair hands loose around his ears and his eyes are blown with lust. You lead his face towards yours, tasting yourself on his tongue as you kiss him passionately. “I need you inside me,” You gasp as he gropes you again, lavishing the way his large hands feel cradling your breasts. 

Dammon braces himself on one forearm, using his free hand to tug his cock free from his trousers,

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he leans down to join your mouths again, his rigid length slicking itself with your juices as it glides between your folds. His hard cock brushes up against your overstimulated clit over and over as he rocks his body above you, making sure to cover himself in your slick before pressing up against your entrance.

Dammon’s hand comes down to angle your hips, and he grinds against you one more time. “Tell me to stop and I will.” He groans, tipping his forehead against yours as he gazes at your eyes. “Don’t you dare.” You whisper, capturing his lips with yours. Dammon groans into the kiss, aligning himself with your entrance, he just couldn’t get past how perfect you are, how perfect this moment is. He slowly pushes himself inside you, moaning against your lips as your cunt swallows him inch by inch. 

“So fucking perfect..” He grits through his teeth, sheathing himself inside you completely. “You deserve so much better than a romp in the woods.” 

“Then take me out after this,” You gasp, folding your legs around him as you adjust to his size, “just you and me.”

“I would love nothing more.” He replies, giving your lips a cheeky peck before starting to slowly thrust inside you. You gasp at the feeling of being filled completely, of being stretched on his cock as he rocks inside you. This moment was everything you fantasized it would be and more, the way he felt inside you, his scent, just *him*. It was beautiful, it was perfect. 

Slowly, but surely Dammon’s thrust started to pick up speed,

“Fuck Dammon,” You moan, stringing together your words the best you can, “feel so good…“

Dammon was in the same boat as he thrust inside you, each snap of his hips earning a groan from his parted lips.

“Me? You take my cock so good, such a good girl-“ he cuts himself off with a grunt, loving the way your velvety walls flutter around his cock after each thrust. His face returns to your chest, mouth taking one nipple between his teeth and tugging lightly before smoothing it over with his hot tongue. You cried out at the sensation, a little worry wiggling itself into your brain that maybe you were still too close to camp, maybe they could all hear you chanting Damon’s name as he takes you in this clearing. Oh well, was the conclusion you reached as your nails raked up and down Dammon’s muscular back, let them hear. 

Your second orgasm was quickly approaching as he thrust mercilessly inside you, adjusting his angle to hit your g-spot every time. 

“I’m gonna cum,” You confessed, hands coming up to cup Dammon’s face. 

“I’m right there with you.” He says, leaning down to connect your mouths in a kiss. You feel his tongue enter your mouth as his thrusts become more erratic, sloppy. 

A few more thrusts and you’re there, walls fluttering around his cock as you come, crying out his name against his lips. He pumps you through your orgasm, breath hitching as he separates your mouths. 

“Where do you want me to-?” He asks, frantically looking over you as he waits for your answer.

“Inside me!” You almost yell, hands practically yanking him back down towards your face.

After a couple more thrusts, he comes inside you, filling you with his warm seed as he grunts loudly against your lips. You moan at the sensation of being stuffed, and he fucks his cum into you deeper. His hips still inside of you and he all but collapses above you, pressing his heated body against yours as he softens inside you. 

The two of you stay that way for a minute, just panting as you come down from your highs. Your wrap your arms around him as he rests his head on your stomach, rising and falling with each of your breaths. 

“Thank you,” He says into the darkness, “I’ve wanted that for a while now.”

“No problem,” you chuckle, taking a hand to run through his hair. “You owe me a date now.”

“That I do,” He replies, “that I do.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

A/N: Thank you so much for reading this little thing!! If you liked it, please consider giving me a follow as I will be writing more in the future.

[siremasterlawrence]

Chef’s Kiss

Is it evil to agree to have dinner with my hot next door neighborhood daddy and his kids with an agenda of my own? Maybe my dear!However I am literally at the front door of his home taking a breath and then knocking on it hard. A few minutes pass as I hear feet shuffle to rush over and open it a firm and assured handshake is offered as I cross the threshold into his home and I know it is far too late to back out now.

“Hello! I made it”

“Great to see you! Lawrence”

“May I ask?

“Take a lead off and sit “

“I’ll get you some wine”

“Thank you! Perfect for me”

“What did you say?”

“I made these for you “

“Really! Oh sweet!”

“I’ll have some later “

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t want to ruin my dinner “

“You won’t”

“I promise”

“Why are you ….”

“Yes!”

“You are right! I’ll have one”

“Correct! Sit down at your dinner table”

“Ok! Can’t wait “

“Actually on the couch”

“Eat as much as you want “

“I shouldn’t but heck”

“These smell so lovely “

“You are a confectionery genius”

“Having a moment here”

“Sorry! You should open a bakery”

“One day! God willing but for now eat it up”

I watch him dig into one cup cake like a tiny delicate treat tasting it like it is the most all inspiring and chef approved marvel of a cup cake on a level never seen before as his eyes are all a glow taking them in one by one of course. I left him to his station on the couch lost in a sea of sweats and love entering the kitchen I begin to look for a wine glass, uncork the champagne taking a sip as he munches on completely ignoring everything around him.

“Are you alone tonight or will we have company?”

“Just us bud”

“Perfect! Why don’t you finish the last one “

“With pleasure”

“I feel weird”

“How so?..”

“Light! Dumb! Drunk!”

“Can you tell me who you are?”

“Chris Lyle! Right? I think”

“You got it! Do you know where you are?”

“FUCK No! Who cares?”

“Do me a favor?”

“Why are you wearing a suit?”

“Dude! Hell no!”

“You are a bro man”

“I am about to go change “

“Yeah! Do that”

“Mwahahahahaha! As planned”

I knew it would take him at least a hour to change because he no longer can focus on anything in particular except for all of me it’s my secret ingredient simply put and you will love it really it’s my bodily fluids mixed in with my scent. While he trudges away his cellphone begins to ring alerting me to a text I receive, I reply back to not come home tonight because I need some time for myselfback and I get a smile a emoji form all of his kids like it’s the latest fad all do sudden any way I am getting side tracked.

The plane is halfway completed as I grab my got to bag placing it on the table slide the zipper down the side pocket to retrieve my phone, I swiftly connect to my cell to his speakers shifting through my playlist in my music app and I land on hypnotic tunes as I press play and raise the volume. It is a list specifically attune to my chemical make up so only someone who is connected to me will be affected, upstairs the minute the first track hit his ears the lights went out in his eyes and he began to undress and I take over the kitchen rummaging through his fridge I begin to prepare meal mixing spice made with my bodily fluids.

“Mmmmm! What is that delightful aroma?”

“It’s my spices I created”

“They are heavenly”

“May I help!”

“Sure Chris! Dance across the floor “

“I’ll slide”

“Someone is in a good mood”

“Never felt more alive “

“You are a great cook”

“Ok bro! Taste this for me”

“Oh Lord!”

“What? No good!”

“You have to sell this “

“Seriously! I think this is made with love “

“Blood sweat and tears”

“Literally!”

“Why do I feel attracted to you ?”

“You are straight right?.”

“I thought so”

“Kiss me”

“Mmmm! Oh fuck that! I love you Master!”

The end

[lulublack90]

Prompt 31 - Veritaserum

@wolfstarmicrofic March 31, word count 482

The entire Order had gathered at Grimmauld Place. Most had entered the notorious building fully shielded, expecting a trap. 

Once they were all sitting around the formal dining table, Dumbledore called for Sirius to enter the room. 

Every witch and wizard pointed their wand at him. It was only having Dumbledore standing calmly beside him that saved Sirius from whatever spells had been on the tip of their tongues. 

He took a seat in the chair at the head of the table. Remus had helped him clean himself up a bit so that he didn’t look so much like Sirius Black, escaped mass murderer and more like Lord Black, head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. 

He shuffled uncomfortably in his old tailored robes. They forced him to sit up straight. Something he was no longer used to. He wanted to curl up under the table as Padfoot, but Remus’s reassuring hand settled on his arm, giving him a gentle squeeze. He met Remus’s eyes and felt braver. As long as he had Remus Lupin beside him, he could do anything. 

“Please lower your wands, dear friends. Mr Black is no threat. He has kindly agreed to take Veritaserum to put you at ease and tell you his tale.” Dumbledore glanced at every person in the room before he continued. “He was framed twelve years ago by a wizard you may all remember.” He paused. “Peter Pettigrew.” The room erupted into shocked murmurs.

The door opened again, causing the room to fall silent. Snape strode in, his black robes billowing around him. He stopped next to Sirius and glared down at him. 

Sirius obediently leaned his head back and opened his mouth when Snape uncorked the small vial he’d produced from the folds in his robes. 

Remus slid his hand down Sirius’s arm to hold his hand as Snape grasped his jaw and poured a few drops onto his tongue. He felt his body relax and his mind still as the potion took effect. 

“Right then, Sirius. Why don’t you start at the beginning, about the plan for Lily and James to go into hiding?” Dumbledore prompted. Sirius swallowed and nodded as he began to tell his story, only stopping once he got to his escape from Hogwarts almost two years previously. He answered every question asked, and they had to believe him because he was unable to lie, not that he wanted to. 

Eventually, they were out of questions, and Sirius felt the effects of the Veritaserum slowly fading away. He looked to Remus, who stood and helped him rise from his chair. 

“Unless you need us. I think Sirius has done enough today.” Remus addressed Dumbledore before looping Sirius’s arm through his and escorting him out of the room and up to their bedroom, where a plate of sandwiches and a bottle of firewhisky waited for them.