#subtle magic my beloved

[justaz]

merlin’s secret being a visual thing. when he is around arthur or gwen or leon or morgana or [insert whatever character here] merlin seems pale and thin, almost like a ghost or an apparition. when the sun lands on him he reflects it like a corpse, he eyes seem dark and dull. he has this ethereal beauty to him, this otherworldly visage that leads many to believe he is of fae blood. he just doesn’t seem to be 100% human. but when he is ONLY with lancelot or gaius (cough or gwaine bc gwaine DEFINITELY knew) merlin is heartachingly human. merlin shines in the sunlight, colors are brighter and more vibrant around him, and his smiles are wide and his laughs are boisterous. he takes on color and leaves everyone wanting to know him. but when other join in or interact with the two, merlin shifts before their eyes so quickly and suddenly that they aren’t sure whether or not what they saw was a trick of the light. the idea still leaves them wanting more and wanting to see the merlin who is just so full of life but that merlin only appears for a small select group of people. merlin who has a guard so high that it has an effect of other’s perception of him.

[kpoplustzone]

Nayeon Smut - Sneaky Christmas

OC X NAYEON

More stories on Kofi - Link

The first time Nayeon walked into the room, it was like a spotlight had suddenly been turned on. Even knowing my brother was dating someone famous, actually seeing Nayeon in person was a completely different experience. The woman was breathtaking. The kind of beautiful that makes your jaw drop and your thoughts stutter. And not just regular celebrity beautiful – this was Nayeon from TWICE beautiful, the idol whose smile could melt glaciers and whose visuals were constantly praised across South Korea. She had that unique charm, that infectious cheerfulness that everyone adored, and seeing it up close, along with her undeniably sexy body right there in front of me, was almost overwhelming.

My brother introduced her, his arm casually draped around her shoulder, and my eyes couldn’t help but scan her from head to toe. She was wearing a simple but stylish outfit – tight jeans that hugged every curve of her shapely legs and a fitted top that showcased her perky breasts beautifully. Even in casual wear, her star power was undeniable, a radiant aura that seemed to emanate from her.

Her face, even without the stage makeup, was stunning. Those bright, captivating eyes that always sparkled in photos were even more mesmerizing in person, framed by long, dark lashes. Her nose was perfectly sculpted, and then there was that signature bunny smile, wide and infectious, revealing her cute front teeth. It was a smile that could instantly disarm you, making you feel comfortable and at ease, even as your brain struggled to process the fact that you were standing in front of one of the most beloved idols in Korea.

But it wasn't just her face. Nayeon’s body was just as captivating. The fitted top emphasized the roundness and perkiness of her breasts. They weren’t overly large, but perfectly proportioned, the kind that looked soft and inviting. You could tell she worked hard to maintain her figure; there was a subtle firmness, a toned quality that spoke of countless hours of dance practice.

Her jeans hugged her legs like a second skin, showcasing their slender yet shapely form. Her thighs were smooth and toned, leading down to delicate ankles. And then there was her ass. Even through denim, you could tell it was perfectly rounded and firm, the kind that would look incredible bouncing in a short skirt on stage. The way she moved, there was a natural grace and a subtle sway to her hips that hinted at a playful sensuality.

Standing there, witnessing her beauty and her undeniable sex appeal firsthand, it was hard to reconcile the sweet, cheerful image she projected with the undeniably desirable woman standing before me. She was a walking, talking fantasy, the kind of woman who made your imagination run wild with all the naughty possibilities. And she was my brother’s girlfriend. The thought sent a strange mix of disbelief and a flicker of something else, something a little forbidden, through my mind. This was going to be an interesting dynamic, to say the least. Just seeing her that first time, the details of her incredibly sexy body imprinted in my mind, it was clear that Nayeon was a different breed of celebrity, a true icon of beauty and allure

Nayeon’s charm had worked its magic on my family, just as it did on millions of fans. Her cheerful personality and that dazzling smile had them completely smitten from the first meeting. When she left after two days, the house felt strangely empty, a little less bright. I hadn't said much, a combination of shyness and being utterly awestruck keeping me mostly quiet.

But a week later, Christmas arrived, and with it, Nayeon. This time, she came bearing gifts, her arms laden with beautifully wrapped packages. And her outfit… it was something else entirely. She was wearing a pair of incredibly short denim shorts that showcased every glorious inch of her toned thighs and a fitted t-shirt that did little to conceal the perky shape of her breasts. Every curve, every delicious line of her figure was on full display. I felt my mouth go dry as I drank in her beauty, trying my best to appear nonchalant.

My brother, caught up in the whirlwind of family festivities, was soon occupied with other relatives. To my utter delight, Nayeon announced that she would be staying the entire weekend at our place. A thrill shot through me. Two whole days with Nayeon in the house? The possibilities, my imagination whispered, were endless. My cock immediately stirred at the thought. I tried to play it cool, busying myself with wrapping last-minute presents and helping my mom in the kitchen, but my eyes kept finding their way back to Nayeon. The way her shorts rode up her incredible ass when she bent over, the subtle sway of her hips as she walked, the way her t-shirt stretched across her chest, hinting at the treasures beneath… it was a constant assault on my senses. This weekend was going to be interesting, to say the least. Just the anticipation of having her in the house, knowing she was just a room away, was enough to keep my cock hard all day. I couldn't wait to see what the next few days would bring, hoping for any opportunity to get closer to this incredible woman.

It wasn't just her overall beauty; it was the subtle things she did, the almost imperceptible gestures that made me wonder if she was intentionally teasing me. Every time she was near me, it felt like a playful dance on the edge of something more.

For instance, we were in the living room, helping my mom decorate the Christmas tree. I was sitting on the floor, trying to untangle a string of lights, when Nayeon bent down to pick up a box of ornaments right in front of me. Her t-shirt, which was already quite fitted, stretched taut across her chest. And as she leaned forward, the neckline dipped just low enough for me to catch a glimpse underneath. My breath hitched. I could clearly see the outline of her bare breasts, the subtle curve and the darker circle of her areola, with only a small, round pastie covering her nipple. It was a fleeting glimpse, gone as quickly as it appeared, but it was enough to send a jolt of heat straight to my groin, my cock instantly hardening against my jeans. I couldn't help but wonder if she knew exactly what she was doing, if that slight dip of her shirt was deliberate. She didn't look at me, just smiled cheerfully as she handed the box to my mom, acting as if nothing had happened. But the image of her partially exposed breasts was burned into my mind.

Another time, we were all in the kitchen, getting snacks. I was reaching for a bag of chips on a high shelf, and Nayeon was bending down to get something from the lower cabinet right in front of me. Her shorts, already incredibly short, rode up even further as she squatted down, giving me an eyeful of her incredible ass. The denim was tight against her rounded cheeks, highlighting the deep cleft. I could see the smooth, pale skin of her thighs, almost all the way up to where the shorts ended. It felt like she was intentionally presenting her perfect backside to me, an offering I couldn't help but stare at. My cock, still remembering the glimpse of her breasts earlier, sprang to attention once more. She stayed in that position for what felt like an eternity, humming to herself as she rummaged through the cabinet. When she finally stood up, she turned around, smiled brightly at me, and grabbed her snack, again completely oblivious-or – or so it seemed–to the effect her actions were having on me.

These little instances kept happening throughout the day. A casual stretch that lifted her t-shirt just enough to reveal a sliver of her toned stomach, a playful twirl that made her shorts swing, and offered a fleeting glimpse of the curve of her inner thigh. Each time, it felt like a deliberate tease, a subtle game she was playing, knowing exactly how her body affected me. My pants felt tighter and tighter as the day wore on, my cock constantly thick and hard, a testament to her unintentional – or perhaps intentional – seduction. The anticipation of spending the entire weekend with her was building to a fever pitch

my father and mother were making a video call to my brother and I was also in the frame when nayeon stood in front of me very close and I could even smell her and her ass right in front of my cock. she was smiling at my brother and talking about something but my body froze when something touched my cock.

My body went rigid, every muscle tensing as Nayeon’s hand, soft yet firm, closed around my cock through the fabric of my shorts. The unexpected touch sent a jolt of pure electricity through me. My eyes darted downwards, confirming the impossible. Her fair hand was indeed there, subtly but deliberately stroking the growing hardness beneath her fingers.

My gaze shot back up to Nayeon, my heart hammering against my ribs. Her face was still turned towards the phone, her expression bright and cheerful as she continued her conversation with my brother, completely unfazed. The contrast between her innocent demeanor and the incredibly bold act she was performing just inches from my parents’ view on the video call was mind-blowing.

Her fingers continued their teasing assault, gently squeezing and releasing, her thumb finding and flicking the sensitive head of my cock. I bit my lip hard to suppress the groan that threatened to erupt from my throat. The sensations were intense, almost unbearable, especially given the precarious situation. My parents and brother were right there, virtually present, completely oblivious to the erotic intimacy unfolding right under their noses.

I could smell her perfume, a sweet, floral scent that was now inextricably linked to this illicit touch. Her ass, still tantalizingly close to my crotch, felt like it was radiating a heat of its own. My cock was now fully erect, straining against the confines of my shorts, throbbing with a desperate need.

Nayeon’s strokes became a little bolder, a little more insistent. She subtly shifted her hand, her fingers now working their way down the length of my shaft, her thumb continuing its playful flicking of the head. I could feel the warmth of her hand through the thin fabric, the pressure building with each deliberate movement. It was torture, exquisite torture. I wanted to pull away, to break the contact, but at the same time, the thrill of the forbidden, the sheer audacity of her actions, kept me rooted to the spot, my body completely at her mercy.

She let out a soft giggle at something my brother said on the call, and the movement of her body caused her hand to press even more firmly against my hardening cock. A low moan almost escaped my lips, and I had to clench my jaw even tighter to keep it contained. The risk of being caught, the scandal it would cause, flashed through my mind, but the arousal was so powerful, so all-consuming, that all rational thought seemed to evaporate.

Her fingers then started to dance, mimicking the movements of someone playing a tiny, secret instrument. Her thumb continued its teasing exploration of the head, while her other fingers rhythmically stroked the shaft. The pace varied, sometimes slow and sensual, sometimes quick and frantic, each change designed to maximize the pleasure-or – or perhaps the torture–she was inflicting. I could feel the precum starting to leak, dampening the fabric of my shorts around my straining cock.

The video call seemed to stretch on endlessly, each passing moment an exercise in restraint and barely contained lust. Nayeon continued to laugh and chat, her hand работая with a focused intensity that belied her cheerful facade. I could feel my face flushing, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps. I was teetering on the edge, one wrong move, one uncontrolled groan, and the whole situation could explode.

The moment the video call ended and my parents turned away, Nayeon’s hand snapped back as if a live wire had shocked her. She gave me a sly, knowing smile, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. I quickly sat down on the sofa, angling my body so the obvious tent in my shorts wouldn't be too noticeable as my parents headed into the kitchen, their backs to us, already chatting about the call.

From the sofa, I had a clear view of them working at the counter, the clinking of dishes, and the murmur of their voices filling the air. Nayeon sat down beside me, close enough that our thighs were almost touching. She leaned back, seemingly relaxed, but her gaze kept flicking downwards, settling on my still-prominent hard-on.

“You were checking me out pretty hard that first day, weren’t you?” she whispered, her voice a low, breathy purr that sent shivers down my spine. “I noticed. A girl always knows.” She looked up at my face, her smile widening. “And I see you’re… still impressed.” Her eyes dropped again to my crotch, lingering there for a moment before flicking back up to mine.

My cheeks flushed, and I mumbled something incoherent, trying to play it cool.

Nayeon chuckled softly, a sound that was both innocent and incredibly seductive. “Don’t be shy,” she said, her fingers tracing a light path across my arm. “I don’t bite… unless you want me to.” Her gaze intensified, and I could feel the heat radiating from her.

Her fingers then moved a little lower, brushing against my leg, dangerously close to the bulge in my shorts. “That’s quite a reaction I seem to have on you,” she murmured, her voice laced with a playful arrogance. “It’s… thick, isn’t it?” She didn’t wait for a response, her fingers now daringly close to the seam of my shorts.

My breath hitched. My parents were just a few feet away, completely engrossed in washing dishes, and here was Nayeon, my brother’s girlfriend, openly talking about my hard cock and teasing me with her touch. The risk of being caught, the sheer audacity of her actions, was incredibly arousing.

She leaned in closer, her lips just inches from my ear. “I saw you looking at my boobs earlier too,” she whispered, her voice dropping to a dirty, seductive tone. “Did you like what you saw?” Her hand then slipped beneath the hem of my t-shirt, her fingers lightly grazing my stomach, slowly inching their way downwards.

I could barely breathe, my heart pounding in my chest. “Nayeon…” I started, my voice a shaky whisper.

She placed a finger against my lips, silencing me. “Shhh,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Our little secret.” Her hand continued its downward journey, and then, with a bold move, her fingers closed around the undeniable hardness straining against my shorts.

A gasp escaped my lips, and I instinctively tensed. Her grip was surprisingly firm, her fingers gently squeezing and releasing. I glanced towards the kitchen, my parents still oblivious, their backs to us.

Nayeon’s smile widened, and she leaned in even closer, her breasts brushing against my arm. “You’re so hard,” she murmured, her thumb now tracing the outline of my cock head through the fabric. “I bet you’ve been thinking about me all week, haven’t you?”

I could only nod, my throat too tight to speak. The sensations were overwhelming; the forbidden thrill of her touch in such a public yet private setting was driving me wild.

Nayeon’s fingers, having danced with tantalizing restraint, finally slipped beneath the elastic of my shorts, the cool touch of her skin against mine sending another wave of pure anticipation coursing through me. With a slow, deliberate pull, she lowered the fabric just enough to liberate my straining cock. It sprang free, thick and heavy, greeted by the cool air of the living room. Nayeon’s breath hitched as she gazed down at it, her beautiful eyes widening in what seemed like genuine admiration. A soft, almost reverent sigh escaped her lips as her hand, now bolder, reached out to cradle its weight.

Her touch was electric, the soft warmth of her palm a stark contrast to the throbbing heat emanating from my engorged member. She ran her fingers slowly up the smooth skin, her touch feather-light yet undeniably firm, as if she were acquainting herself with every inch. Her gaze remained fixed on my cock, her expression a captivating blend of curiosity and undisguised desire. Then, her fingers tightened slightly, her grip becoming more possessive as she explored its impressive girth.

I held my breath, every nerve ending in my body tingling with anticipation. The sounds of my parents chatting and the gentle clinking of dishes from the nearby kitchen seemed to amplify the silence between Nayeon and me, a stark reminder of the precariousness of our clandestine encounter.

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Nayeon leaned forward, her radiant face drawing closer to my exposed cock. My heart hammered against my ribs, the anticipation building to a fever pitch. Her lips parted slightly, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her pink tongue. And then, with a slow, deliberate grace, she took the head of my cock into her mouth.

The initial contact was a shock of pure, unadulterated pleasure. The warmth and wetness of her mouth enveloping me sent a jolt straight to my core, igniting a fire that spread rapidly through my veins. I bit down hard on my lip, desperately trying to stifle the involuntary groan that threatened to erupt from my throat. The fear of being discovered warred with the overwhelming sensation of her lips and tongue working their magic on me.

Nayeon’s suction was gentle at first, a soft, teasing exploration, her tongue tracing delicate circles around the sensitive corona. But then, she deepened her hold, taking more of me in, her lips closing tightly, creating a vacuum that sent shivers down my spine. Her cheeks hollowed slightly with each downward motion, and I could feel her warm breath against my skin, adding another layer of intense sensation.

Her head bobbed rhythmically, her dark hair swaying gently against my thighs, a visual testament to the incredible act she was performing. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, my knuckles turning white as I fought to remain still, to keep my pleasure from becoming too obvious. The sounds from the kitchen seemed to mock my attempts at stealth, every clink and clatter amplifying the forbidden intimacy of the moment.

She was a natural, her mouth работая me with an intuitive understanding of what felt best. Her tongue flicked and swirled, exploring every inch of the head, paying special attention to the frenulum, that incredibly sensitive ridge beneath the tip. The sensation was electrifying, making my hips want to buck uncontrollably. She then slid her lips further down, taking more and more of my shaft into her warm, wet haven. I could feel the velvety softness of her tongue caressing my skin, the rhythmic pressure of her suction building with each stroke. Her throat worked visibly as she went deeper, taking me almost to the base, and then slowly sliding back up, repeating the process with a practiced expertise that left me breathless and aching for more.

My gaze was fixed on her face, just inches away. Her eyes were closed, her expression one of pure concentration and sensual enjoyment, a stark contrast to her usual bright and cheerful demeanor. Her lips glistened with my saliva, and the way she was so completely focused on pleasuring me, seemingly oblivious to the immense risk of discovery, was incredibly arousing. Her perky breasts, still partially visible above the neckline of her t-shirt, bounced ever so slightly with the motion of her head, a tantalizing distraction that only added to my mounting arousal.

She varied her technique, her pace shifting from a slow, sensual glide to a quicker, more urgent rhythm, always keeping me teetering on the precipice of control. She used her hands too, gently stroking the underside of my shaft, her fingers occasionally brushing against my swollen balls, sending shockwaves of delight through my body. She explored the textures, the veins, the sheer length and thickness of me with a focused intensity that was incredibly flattering and undeniably erotic.

She then did something that sent a jolt of pure fire through my veins. As she slid her mouth down my shaft, her fingers tightened around the base, gently tugging as her lips reached the head again. The combination of the deep suction and the gentle pull was almost unbearable, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. I bit down harder on my lip, my body tensing, every muscle screaming for release.

The sounds from the kitchen seemed to fade into the background as my world narrowed to the incredible sensations Nayeon was creating. Her mouth was a warm, wet vortex, and I was being pulled into its depths, each stroke bringing me closer to the point of no return. The risk, the thrill, the undeniable pleasure – it was an intoxicating combination, a secret indulgence happening right under the noses of my unsuspecting parents

My blood ran cold as my mom’s voice cut through the haze of pleasure. “Where’s Nayeon, sweetheart? I thought she was here with you.” My eyes snapped open, my heart leaping into my throat. Panic surged through me. My parents were turning, their gazes sweeping towards the sofa.

Without thinking, my hands shot out, grabbing the throw blanket that was draped over the back of the sofa. In one swift motion, I tossed it over Nayeon, completely covering her head and the lower part of her body that was currently работая on my cock. From their perspective, it would just look like I was lying down, perhaps even taking a nap, with only my head and shoulders visible above the blanket.

“Oh, she… she just went to the restroom, Mom,” I stammered out, my voice cracking slightly. I tried to sound casual, but the lie felt thick and heavy in the air. My eyes darted nervously towards the kitchen, watching my parents’ reactions.

Thankfully, my mom just nodded, seemingly satisfied with my explanation. “Okay, honey. Just let her know lunch will be ready soon.” She turned back to the counter, resuming her conversation with my dad.

Underneath the sheet, Nayeon’s ministrations continued, completely unfazed by the near-disaster. If anything, the added risk seemed to fuel her boldness. Her tongue left the head of my cock and trailed down, licking the smooth skin of my shaft before focusing on my balls. The sensation of her warm, wet tongue enveloping my testicles was intense, making me twitch uncontrollably. She then moved higher, her lips and tongue работая the base of my cock, where it met my groin, the pressure and suction almost unbearable in their exquisite intensity.

I clenched my fists even tighter, my body trembling as I fought to remain silent. The contrast between the innocent conversation happening just a few feet away and the incredibly depraved act unfolding under the blanket was mind-blowing. I could feel the heat rising in my face, and I prayed my parents wouldn’t notice my flushed complexion.

Nayeon’s tongue continued its tantalizing assault, her breath hot and moist against my skin. She was exploring every inch, every nerve ending, driving me further and further towards the edge of sanity. The rhythmic sucking and slurping sounds were thankfully muffled by the blanket, but I was still terrified that my own involuntary moans would give us away.

Nayeon’s head emerged slowly from beneath the sheet, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Her lips were still wet, glistening with the remnants of my precum, which she delicately wiped away with a finger. That same sly smile played on her lips as she brought her finger to her mouth, savoring the taste with a satisfied hum. This stunning woman was teasing me relentlessly, pushing the boundaries of what I thought was possible.

With a fluid movement, she straddled me, her knees pressing against either side of my thighs. She leaned down, grabbing the front of my t-shirt and pulling my face closer to hers. “I want your cock inside me,” she whispered, her voice husky with desire, her breath hot against my ear.

“Nayeon, my parents are right there,” I managed to say, my voice a strained whisper, glancing nervously towards the kitchen where my parents were still washing dishes, oblivious to the erotic drama unfolding just a few feet away.

She just chuckled, a low, throaty sound that vibrated against my chest. “They won’t hear us,” she insisted, her eyes blazing with a raw, unadulterated lust. “I’m too horny to wait any longer.” Her grip on my shirt tightened, and she pulled me closer, her body pressing against mine. I could feel the soft warmth of her pussy just inches away.

Without waiting for my response, she pushed me back against the cushions of the sofa, angling her body so that my parents, if they were to glance over, would only see her sitting on top of me. My upper body was now lower, mostly obscured by the back of the sofa, while she was positioned perfectly to block their view of what was happening beneath her.

My cock, still throbbing from her expert mouth work, strained upwards, eager to fulfill her desire. Nayeon reached down, her fingers finding the waistband of my still-lowered shorts. With a swift movement, she pushed them down further, giving her unobstructed access. Her touch was sure and confident as she guided my hard cock towards her wet entrance.

I felt the slick warmth of her pussy lips as the head of my penis nudged against them. She let out a soft moan, her hips tilting slightly as she positioned herself. Then, slowly, deliberately, she began to lower herself onto me. I gasped as she took me inch by agonizing inch, her tight muscles clenching around my shaft. She went all the way down, until I was buried deep inside her, the feeling of her hot, wet embrace sending waves of pure ecstasy through me.

Nayeon leaned forward, resting her hands on my chest, her eyes locking with mine. That playful smile was back, now tinged with a primal satisfaction. “See? They can’t see a thing,” she whispered, her hips beginning to rock gently. “And they definitely can’t hear this.” Her moans started soft and low, escalating with each slide of her body against mine,

Nayeon’s hips began to move in a slow, sensual grind, her tight pussy muscles clenching and releasing around my hard cock. I looked up at her face, her cheeks slightly flushed, a bead of sweat trickling down her temple. She was biting her lip, her eyes darting occasionally towards the kitchen, a clear effort to suppress the moans that were building within her.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” she whispered, a naughty smile gracing her lips. Her hands gripped my shoulders, pulling herself closer, her breasts pressing firmly against my chest. I could feel her heartbeat racing, mirroring my own frantic pulse.

“Unbelievable,” I managed to whisper back, my gaze tracing the curve of her neck down to the tantalizing view of her cleavage. Being inside her, feeling her hot and wet around me, with the risk of my parents walking in at any moment, was an incredible rush.

She increased the pace of her movements, her hips rocking with a more insistent rhythm. Soft whimpers escaped her lips, quickly stifled as she glanced towards the kitchen. I could see my mom turn slightly, and Nayeon immediately broke eye contact with me, smiling sweetly in the direction of the kitchen.

“Everything alright there, honey?” my mom asked, her voice carrying from the other room.

“Yes, aunty,” Nayeon replied, her voice perfectly normal and cheerful. “Just admiring your lovely Christmas decorations!” She then looked back down at me, her eyes blazing with renewed desire, and resumed her sensual riding, her moans now barely audible breaths against my ear.

The contrast was surreal. One moment she was the picture of innocent politeness, charming my mother, and the next, she was straddling me, her hot pussy grinding against my cock with a primal intensity. It was incredibly arousing.

From my position beneath her, my view of her body was intoxicating. Her t-shirt had ridden up slightly, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her toned stomach. Her breasts, now moving more freely with her riding, bounced gently, their hard nipples peeking out from under the fabric. I reached up and gently cupped one in my hand, feeling its softness and the immediate hardening of her nipple. She let out a soft gasp, quickly muffling it with a hand pressed against her mouth.

Her riding became more vigorous, her hips lifting higher with each thrust, giving me a deeper, more satisfying penetration. I could feel her wetness coating my cock, the friction building with every stroke. The sounds of our bodies coming together – the soft thud of her ass against my lap, her muffled moans, my own suppressed groans – were a secret symphony of pleasure.

Suddenly, my dad walked to the doorway of the kitchen, looking into the living room. Nayeon immediately stilled her movements, her smile turning into a wide, innocent grin as she looked at him.

“Having a nice chat, you two?” he asked, his gaze sweeping over us.

“Yes, Uncle,” Nayeon said brightly. “Just catching up. It’s so nice to finally have a quiet moment.” She subtly shifted her weight, pressing down on me, her pussy squeezing my cock tightly. I had to bite back a groan.

“Well, don’t be strangers. Dinner will be ready in about half an hour.” He gave us a warm smile and then headed back into the kitchen.

As soon as he was gone, Nayeon’s smile turned wicked. “That was close,” she whispered, her hips immediately resuming their passionate rhythm. “But it just makes it even more exciting, doesn’t it?” Her pace quickened, her moans becoming louder, her head thrown back, her body completely surrendered to the pleasure. I could feel her nearing another climax, her inner muscles clenching tighter and tighter around my cock. The forbidden thrill of the situation, the intense pleasure of being inside her, and the constant risk of discovery – it was all combining to create an experience I would never forget.

Nayeon’s breath hitched as her orgasm began to build, her movements becoming more frantic, her hips grinding down on my cock with a desperate intensity. Her muffled cries grew louder, and I could feel her inner muscles clenching rhythmically, squeezing me tightly. Just as I felt myself teetering on the edge of my release, I heard footsteps approaching from the kitchen.

My heart leaped into my throat. My dad was coming back into the living room.

Nayeon’s eyes widened in panic. Without breaking our connection, she quickly shifted her position, sliding off me just enough to turn her body slightly. She then leaned forward, pretending to reach for a Christmas ornament that had fallen onto the floor beside the sofa. From the doorway, it would just look like she was bending down to pick something up.

“Is everything alright, you two?” my dad asked, his gaze sweeping over the room.

“Oh, yes, uncle,” Nayeon said, her voice perfectly steady, a sweet smile on her face as she held up the ornament. “Just admiring this pretty little reindeer. It must have fallen off the tree.”

My dad chuckled. “Careful, you don’t break it! Those are old family heirlooms.” He glanced at me, still lying on the sofa, trying to appear relaxed. “Everything good with you, son?”

I managed a weak nod, my face flushed, my heart still pounding. “Yeah, Dad. Just… admiring the decorations too.”

He smiled and headed back towards the kitchen. As soon as he was out of sight, Nayeon quickly straddled me again, her smile turning wicked. “That was a close one,” she whispered, her pussy immediately finding its home on my still-hard cock. “Made it even hotter, don’t you think?”

She didn’t wait for my reply, her hips immediately resuming their passionate rhythm. Her moans, which had been so carefully suppressed moments before, now escaped her lips more freely, though still muffled by her hand. Her riding became more frantic, her body bouncing on mine with unrestrained desire. I reached up and cupped her breasts, my thumbs teasing her hard nipples, eliciting sharp intakes of breath.

“You’re so naughty,” I whispered against her ear, my arousal reaching a fever pitch.

“Only for you,” she breathed back, her hips grinding down on me with a delicious force. “You like it, don’t you? Being bad with me?”

“More than anything,” I admitted, my fingers now trailing down her back, feeling the smooth skin beneath her t-shirt. I reached under the hem, my fingers finding the curve of her ass, gently squeezing the firm flesh. She moaned louder, her hips bucking in response

Driven by the feel of Nayeon’s incredibly tight pussy and her escalating moans, I increased the intensity of my thrusts, bucking my hips upwards to meet her downward ride. Her head was thrown back, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as she gripped my shoulders tightly, her body trembling with the force of her impending climax. I could feel her inner muscles clenching rhythmically around my cock, squeezing and releasing with increasing urgency.

“Oh, fuck… I’m gonna come again…” she gasped out, her voice thick with pleasure. Her hips began to grind down on me with a desperate frenzy, her body arching and twisting as the waves of her second orgasm washed over her. Her muffled cries reached a fever pitch, a series of high-pitched whimpers and moans that were barely contained by her hand pressed against her mouth.

Just as she reached her peak, I felt my own body teetering on the edge. The intense friction of her tight pussy milking my cock, combined with the forbidden thrill of our clandestine encounter, pushed me over the point of no return. A deep groan rumbled in my chest as my own orgasm erupted, a torrent of hot cum shooting deep inside her, filling her completely. My body shuddered uncontrollably as I held her tight, our mingled breaths and cries the only sounds in the living room for a brief, suspended moment.

When the tremors of our shared climax finally subsided, Nayeon slowly eased off me, a blissful smile gracing her lips. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes still glazed over with a dazed satisfaction. She adjusted her t-shirt, smoothing it down with a practiced hand, and then, with remarkable composure, turned towards the kitchen.

“aunty,” she called out sweetly, her voice sounding perfectly normal. “Is there anything I can help you with for dinner?”

I lay on the sofa, my heart still racing, watching her as she walked towards my parents. I had a clear view of her legs from my slightly lower vantage point. And as she moved, I saw it – a thick, milky stream of my cum slowly leaking from her pussy, tracing a path down her smooth, fair thighs. It was a blatant, undeniable testament to our secret, passionate encounter, a visual reminder of the raw intimacy we had just shared, right under the noses of my unsuspecting parents. The sight sent another wave of heat pooling in my groin, a silent promise of more to come lingering in the air.

[vxnuslogy]

﹙💌﹚ letters hidden in starlight.

                                half your heart, buried in his arms.    ୭౿

⸻ order has been shipped out! to @knnichs who ordered one venus' looking glass + aeipathy, amaranthine, and mellifluous for phainon.

𐔌  warnings: none        ♡     the sender has a message! i feel like i strayed a bit from the prompt so i hope you don't mind it too much zira TT ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!! <3

     ━━━  banner credits. vxnuslogy        ♟         tags. @starcharmed @mikashisus @https-sourlimes @dazaisms @powchakko @pneumosia @gl4di0lus; if you'd like to be tagged please fill out the forms in my pinned post !!

                               🏹 the nameless king, phainon — the chrysos heir was earnest in his ways of showing affections, you on the other hand prefer more subtle—magical—ways to show it.

to say phainon was enamored with you would be an understatement—he was head over heels for you. 

great hero of the chrysos heir, losing all his valor and might the moment he sees you walk in the room with a pretty smile and a few scrolls from the archive. the subject of his yearning—you draw his attention faster than any moth to a flame.

it was almost laughable at how easily he melts at your presence actually. much to mydei’s distraught, he's always the first to witness the snow-haired’s helpless pining; knees buckling and threatening to give out when you compliment his form during sparring sessions, words tumbling and stuttering like a vehement storm crashing against a window, and don't even mention the carnelian river that drowns his cheeks paired with a smile that mydei's sure would shatter his cheekbones.

phainon was hopelessly in love with his archivist.

tribios would argue it was cute with the goldweaver quietly chuckling to herself, hell, even castorice would crack a small knowing smile every now and then. all of phainon’s poor attempts at wooing you always left mydei with a drowning feeling of embarrassment. so many unsent letters filled with poorly written verses, gifts ranging from random to expensive shipped to your doorstep, and not to mention the way he follows you around like a lost puppy when he’s supposed to be working. mydei has had enough.

“oh for the love of titans,” mydei gruffly said, a scowl tugging at his lips as she crossed his arms over his chest.

there sat the man in question, a crooked smile on his lips as he tried to pathetically hide the many pieces of parchment in his room.

“mydei, my friend! what brings you here?” phainon greeted, voice still the same tone when they normally talked but there was a slight shake to it. he’s been caught red-handed—vulnerable in the presence of your love. and he was also neglecting his duties.

mydei only raised a brow and slowly walked into the room. as phainon was busy scrambling and spewing weak excuses, the blonde haired warrior only rolled his eyes and rounded his table.

“wait mydei, don't!”

but it was too late. mydei had already picked up the opened envelope and pulled out the neatly folded letter with a nimble grip (he may be tired of phainon's puppy love, but he was no idiot to handle his things without care). 

mydei feels his lips twitch into a teasing smirk, “well, well, well, who knew you'd have the guts to actually send something so… scandalous.”

the snowy hero flushed to the tips of his ears and quickly snatched the letter from his hands. tucking it inside his coat and coughing into his fist, he avoids the pair of gold eyes dissecting him.

“okay, it may look bad but—”

“why would you start with “to my beloved star whom i look for every night”? what are you, a child?”

“BUT!” 

noticing his outburst, the color on phainon's cheeks deepened in shade. he cleared his throat and adjusted his clothing. tugging his sleeves lower, smoothing out the non-existent creases in his coat, and tugging at the collar at his throat. he suddenly feels too hot in this room.

“ehem,” he starts, “i assure you, it's nothing scandalous. i’m just… following a routine! yes, a routine.”

mydei raised a brow in question—he did not believe phainon's excuse.

with a sigh, his shoulder slumps like a child's. dropping to his chair, he covered his face with his hands and mumbled a string of words mydei didn't catch.

one final click of mydei's tongue, he turned around and made his way to the door. “yes, a routine. of course. it's only natural for you to send love letters to someone who's not even yours. absolutely normal. meeting is at twenty.”

phainon could only muster a small nod and let the door magically close as mydei left. when he's sure mydei was gone, he quietly took out the letter from his coat and quietly threw it in the small pile of unsent letters in the corner of his messy room.

he just sat there, motionless and contemplating, for a while before he picked up a sealed envelope. a seal with an eight pointed star greeted him and phainon is sent to the moon when he sees your name written on the back. you've been using the wax seal he got you, which is good.

“To my dearest, hero.”

four words in and phainon has already stopped reading to quietly collect his bearings. the contents were nothing astonishing—a simple report on your findings with tribios on the mission he sent you. but what he looks for the most is the hidden messages in your seemingly formal message.

phainon does not attend the meeting. instead he waits for dusk to arrive and stars glitter in the sky. he stood up from his chair and lounged by his balcony. letter in hand and watched the letters and words reform itself right before his eyes. 

magical. you're abilities were taken straight out of a fairytale he could've read as a child.

“To my other half, whom I left at home.”

he smiled. so brightly he started to consider that maybe mydei was right about his cheekbones shattering.

for the night, he abandoned his duties as a chrysos heir to indulge in your love. you weren't as open to your affections to the public as him, but this? this was your own way of flirting with him.

“To my other half.”

“My beloved, hero.”

“My dearest, Phainon.”

“To whom I've buried my heart to.”

every salutation, punctuation, and sentence reformed to show your love, it sends phainon into a giddy fit. in your presence, he's taken back to the times where he would waste gazing at you longing from the palace sparring grounds.

“To the hero who's captured my heart.”

“My star, how I miss your presence.”

the way your cheeks would flush whenever he caught your stare, scramble to pick up the papers flying out of your hands when you bumped into each other, and when you smiled so brightly when he showed up to the archives with a bouquet and a poorly written letter.

“My heart.”

“My deliverance.”

you were shy with your affection, but they were undying.

© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.

[allpiesforourown]

Goodnight one quick thought for the cherry magic au:

Binghe giving the clumsy employee in their department a bunch of iced drinks. He regularly buys snacks for everyone because it makes him look like a nice guy and is one of the many things that keep him popular.

When the guy offers a drink to shen yuan, binghe subtle kicks a computer cable in front of his foot, making him trip and spill all the drinks over shen yuan. She yuan is drenched in sugary milk teas and lattes and assures the employee he's fine and makes his way to the bathroom

Binghe slipping in after shen yuan and saying "xiansheng, allow me to help." Shen Yuan stiffens (he's been distant towards binghe lately for some reason) and insists he'll be fine on his own. Binghe says nonsense, it'll take forever for him to clean up alone

The wet shirt sticking to his skin would have been tantalizing enough, but shen Yuan hesitantly unbuttons and removes it until his torso is bare for binghe to see.

Binghe takes the shirt out of his hands and their fingers brush

Binghe: that fool.. if he'd spilled the drinks properly, shen yuan would have had to remove his pants too...

Shen yuan: binghe planned this!? He'd go that far to humiliate me in front of everyone..?

Binghe rinsing the shirt under the tap and holding it in front of the hand dryer. Shen yuan is wiping his chest with a wet towel while Binghe watches

Shen yuan shivers in the air conditioned office air and says his body is so sticky, it might be best to just go home and take a shower.. (binghe has some thoughts about making shen yuan even more sticky and unfit to be seen in public, which shen yuan also misunderstands)

Shen yuan isn't at work the next day - he called in sick. Binghe cajoles the hr man into giving him shen yuans address so he can bring his beloved boss some soup... and he finds shen yuan at home feverish. He got this sick just from wearing a wet shirt for a few minutes?

Binghe: so shen yuan's body is that sensitive.. that's good to know...

Shen yuan half asleep: he's in my home checking how easy I am to subdue .. I should ....

Shen yuan passes out and wakes up cuddled in binghes arms. Binghe claims shen yuan wouldn't let go of him in his sleep, but he can hear his thoughts and knows that's a lie.

Why would binghe softly cradle a sleeping person he hates...? Shen Yuan is starting to get a little confused ...

[the-ancient-dragons]

Welcome back to Overcomplicating the Pyrrhian Tribes! This week: the beloved RainWings!!

You know what's up. Joy Ang and Tui are so cool and I am just me.

Details and explanation below!

Otherwise, next week are the chilly IceWings! See you then!!!

More overcomplicated dragons.

I knew the RainWings would be really important, and I think they turned out the best of all the ones I've done. I think they're my favourite because they are basically the perfect mix of extra realism spice without altering Joy's design too much. The SkyWing design is awesome and I love it to bits, but it is one of the two that are the farthest from canon.

As for the RainWing.... I had. So. Much. FUN. I heavily used chameleons and snakes - they're basically the two main species on my research board - but there is a dash of cuttlefish and frilled lizard in there. Where, you ask? Well if you look closely, all over the RainWing are little tiny flecks of darker colour. I found a beautiful reference of a close-up on a cuttlefish eye. Its skin is dotted in thousands of little marks and I thought that would be perfect for the RainWing, who can camouflage just as well as them. I don't know if it's been discussed in canon but I bet they could animate their scales more than just colour shifting - cuttlefish are known for using their rapidly shifting patterns to hypnotize prey. RainWings could do it too, sort of like Ka from Disney's 2D animated Jungle Book.

Speaking of Ka - snakes. I love snakes. The head structure of the RainWing here is very smooth and rounded with muscles based on snakes like the python. I was even going to originally draw them in a venom striking pose and got as far as completing the lineart, but ultimately decided it wouldn't fit the calm portraits of the other tribes.

Will you see it in the future? Hell yeah! Pure, unhinged, magical death spit. Looking at it now I might try to alter it to be a full piece of Glory attacking Scarlet or Crocodile.

In the striking pose you can see the frills much better, but I still took my time on this serene pose (this is where the frilled lizard influence comes in). If you notice that I've drawn every scale (every single scale) then, yes, I am insane. If you didn't know that yet, you know it now. You have to draw guide lines and follow them meticulously while you wonder why you don't make a scale brush, and then cry because you know the randomness and imperfections that come from drawing a thousand circles is how it looks natural. The eye area is actually my favourite part, since drawing dragon eyelids was the original inspiration for doing this. Did I mention that? I wanted to draw eyelids.

EYELIDS.

I digress. Besides the eyelids, I like the frills on the action pose, but this pose is where I like the body scales more. When zooming in on my chameleon colour refs, I noticed the very rhythmical distribution of their scales and figured I would give it a try. They actually do have extra large circular scales along their bodies, which is where I guess the canon RainWing design gets it from. Very clever, Joy!

Anyway, on this version, those small circular scales appear on the face. Not only that, but I added a bit of influence from the snouts of my ref chameleons by extending the nose bridges to wrap around the nose horn. They blend in so seamlessly and that's the reason why I love this design - it's subtle, barely there, mostly Joy but a little extra.

Wow, I talk too much. If you're here, thank you! It's not mandatory to read, but very appreciated. I heard once that visitors at an art gallery look at each piece an average of 2-3 seconds. Or was it 3-6? Idk, but it was shockingly short, and ever since then I've tried to encourage myself to pay more respect to other artists and glean their work for little details I skip after that quick glance. I could talk so much more about these designs but that would be like an hour long video, each, lol. If you have questions about anything, ask away!

[hirukochan]

I feel cheeky sending another ask but I lived the interrogation one so much so just 3 so words: snape sex pollen. Perhaps a professor x professor?

(Ps: is their a place that I can support your writing!!!)

Snape x Professor sex pollen coming right up 🫡

Writing is one of my many beloved hobbies; liking, reblogging, giving kudos or commenting is all the support I need! Thank you very much for asking though!

Blue Speckled Mushrooms

(Severus Snape x fem!Professor oneshot)

Words: 2572

Warnings: 18+ Sex Pollen :D - mutual dub-con, some biting, rough smut

Summary: In your continuing efforts to catch the grumpy Potion Master's attention you follow him into the Forbidden Forest - a mistake of perhaps destiny unfolding?

This is post-war, Sev survives - not that it matters much to the 'plot'

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

It could have been so easy. Gather these blasted Moon Cornflowers and Speckled Blue Mushrooms and return to the castle. It’s all he asks for. Moon Cornflowers and Speckled  Blue Mushrooms to finish the brew currently under stasis in his office. Two plants. Just a few of each. They couldn’t be preserved through either magic or other means and had to be harvested within three hours of being used in a potion and only during a full moon. 

Now usually this is no problem for an accomplished potion master such as Severus Snape. A quick trip to the forest and done. He knows the half-forgotten paths, the safe routes. Knows how to avoid the Centaurs and other nastier beasts that live in the Forbidden Forest.

He does not know how to avoid her.

Irritating, stupid girl.

She took over the History of Magic position earlier that year, one of Snape’s first students he taught after becoming a professor himself at merely twenty-one. A seventh year at the time who already stared at him in the library back when he was a student. 

She just wouldn’t leave him alone!

“Midnight stroll?” She asks with that irritating smile on her stupid pretty face and follows him into the forest.

“What do you want?!” He growls at her. She keeps trying to make conversation with him, keeps sitting next to him during meals or in the staff room, talking. Always talking. Talking talking talking. 

How can a single person be this annoying?

She is still talking. Jesus fucking christ!

“So anyway…what are you doing here?”

“I don’t see how that is of any concern to you.”

“Just curious, is all.” She replies. Stupid girl. And she is still following him!

You have no idea what to do anymore. You’ve tried everything. You’ve tried catching his attention by talking to him, leaving the top button of your blouse undone, batting your lashes at him like a teen on a love potion, you’ve searched his company, flirted like your stupid life depends on it and the cranky bastard doesn’t even recognise it! 

You run to catch up with his long strides, wrapping your cloak around yourself to shield yourself from the cold night air.

You were about to go to bed, just finishing up your rounds through the castle on the lookout for students out of bed when you saw his billowing cloak sweep out of the entrance door. You of course followed him. Curious as to what he was going to do outside but also secretly hoping today’s the day he’ll finally notice your intentions.

Perhaps you have to be less subtle. You thought men like to be subtly seduced but Snape is not like any man you’ve known! Maybe he doesn’t like playing cat and mouse, doesn’t enjoy the chase. 

You’ll be blunt! Yes, if a stroll through the forest at midnight doesn’t do the trick you’ll gather what little courage you have and just make the first step yourself. You’re an independent woman! You don’t need to wait around for Snape to realise you’re interested in him and make the first step.

“Are you gathering ingredients of sorts?” You ask and walk quicker to keep up, pressing your arm against his by walking closer to him. He glares at you.

“Obviously.” He snarls and looks forward again.

“Cool. cool cool cool….um…which ones?”

He audibly grumbles.

“Sorry, I couldn’t understand you.” You smile. He is making it very hard to be attracted to him. Grumbly bastard. Prickly idiot. Why can’t he just fuck you? Shove you into a broom closet and let out his frustrations if you’re so bloody annoying to be around! Why can’t you fall head over heels for someone normal?

Because normal is boring.

Your eyes glide over his sharp jaw, every muscle tensed, about ready to snap, beneath his pale skin that shines in the moonlight.

“I said, you were a daft, simple-minded girl when I had the misfortune of attempting to teach you potions - I very much doubt you’d understand any more now than you did seventeen years ago!”

His venom cuts deep. You stumble backwards. You thought he was clumsy when it comes to socialising, that he perhaps didn’t understand your intentions, not that he loathes you.

“Oh…” You murmur. “Um…okay…” don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. “Sorry for bothering you.” You turn on your heels and run. He calls after you but you ignore it, disappearing between the trees into the undergrowth, away from Snape because you are about to cry your eyes out like the stupid little girl he sees in you and you are not about to embarrass yourself any further than you already have! You just want to go back to your quarters.

Stupid girl! Insufferable, annoying, bothersome, foolish girl!

Snape runs after her. He considered leaving her to her own fate and capabilities and collect his ingredients but he had been cursed with a conscience. A nasty, biting thing demanding he not let her run to her death in an Acromantula den.

He’ll tear her a new one when he catches up to her! The sheer idiocy! Running into the Forbidden Forest like that! What possessed her.

“Stop running!” He snarls, draws his wand and sends a non-verbal Stupor at her. She stumbles and falls face-first into the flower field spreading over the clearing they had entered during their chase. Snape lifts his spell.

You spin around, furious. How fucking dare he? Isn’t it enough to insult you? Does he have to embarrass you by forcing you to bear your pathetic little hurt feelings to him?

He stands at the other end of the clearing, pale blue flowers reaching to his calves, emitting a gentle glow. He looks furious. The light of the full moon illuminates him from the back, deepening his already sharp features, cloaking his face and body in menacing shadows.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” He snarls and points towards the direction you were running in. “Do you want to be eaten by enormous spiders?”

“Like you give a damn!” You shout and pick yourself up off the ground. Swiftly you brush loose dirt and a few pedals off your robes and out of your hair. The motherfucker stunned you!

“I might be a cold son of a bitch but I am not letting a colleague run to her death - no matter how annoying said colleague is. The way back to the castle is-” A wind picks up. His cloak flutters behind him, the fabric whispering with the motion. Pedals are ripped from the flowers.

His eyes widen.

You tilt your head to the side, brows pulled together. “Severus?”

“Stay where you are!” He hisses, sending droplets of spit flying. You look around, confused, searching the dark rows of trees for some beastly critter about to attack but you find none. Snape’s eyes are pinned to yours. His chest is heaving, his breath seems shallow. You take a step forward to which Snape instantly backs away, keeping his wand pointed at- you?

“What’s going on?”

“To the castle! Go back to the castle!”

“I am not your student! You can’t give me orders! And to think I’ve been trying to go on a date with you for months!”

“You have to go back to the castle now or- what?” His wand hand sinks a little. A crease forms between his brows. You’ve never seen Severus so puzzled.

“Year really…” You mutter. “Back in school too-”

“I am not in the mood for jokes or pranks.”

“It’s not!” You take another step forward. Severus’ back hits a tree. The wind picks up. A sweet scent reaches your nose, infiltrates your mind, swirls around your brain like vapours of a potion-

Weren’t you cold?

You were! Yes, you were- but it’s so hot- when did it get so hot?

“Stop that!” Snape snarls again.

“Stop what?” You roll your eyes and pause- your cloak lies in the flower field three steps away from you. You have unbuttoned your robes, revealing the white blouse and dark trousers underneath- when-?

“Go. back.” He has his jaw clenched, teeth pressed together. His nostrils flare, his eyes flick down to your chest and he seems to struggle to force them back up.

“Are you hot too?” Your fingers pry open the buttons of your blouse without you even noticing or you’re just not thinking about it…

“Go-”

“What’s happening?”

“Pollen-”

“What?”

“Where you shit in Herbology too?!” He snaps and you glare at him about ready to-

Your blouse slips off your shoulders and falls to the ground. “Stop- you don’t want this-”

“What? What is this?”

“A rare flower.” His voice sounds pressed, as though he’s struggling to speak, to breathe, to exist. He has his back moulded to the tree, clutching at the bark with his hands, straining to keep his eyes on your face.

The button on your trousers is open.

“The pollens they emit to the air to spread and form these dense fields- they have a unique effect on humans-”

“Which effect?”

“Can’t you tell, stupid girl?”

Your trousers push past your hips.

“You should be running from me, not stripping for me.” His eyes graze over your body, standing in front of him in only your underwear, devouring the sight. His eyes trace along the curves of your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake…Heat rushes to your core.

“Sex pollen-” You gasp, noticing you’re standing a mere arm's length away from him now.

“The rather crude colloquial name - yes.”

“Severus- what-”

“Too late, stupid girl.” He snarls and the next moment he’s on you, pouncing at you like a wild beast. His woodsy, herbal scent flows around you, mixing with the sweet smell of the damned flower. His hands grip your arms roughly, blunt nails dig into your flesh. Severus swirls you around and pushes you against the tree. Bark scratches against your skin, stabbing into it but you don’t even notice.

It’s like a trance has taken over your mind and only one thing matters. 

He.

Severus’ mouth latches onto your throat. A million tiny explosions rush over your skin where he touches you and you moan, a feral sound ripped harshly from your throat, echoing over the empty clearing. Severus growls in response, even more feral, even less human. His teeth scrape over your throat. His hands roam over your body, squeezing your breasts, your thighs. Then he tears at his own clothes, shedding layer after layer with a quickness and urgency that has your head spinning.

“Stupid girl.” He repeats and kisses up to your jaw, your cheek. Heated, open-mouth kisses that leave your skin marked by his saliva. 

You place your hands on his shoulders, searching for something to hold onto, something to pull you back into reality, your head spinning, skin exploding, core hurting. You’re so aroused, so need it fucking hurts.

“Severus-” You moan. His hands find your thighs and he lifts you up. Your legs wrap around him on their own accord.

“You should have run when you still had the chance.” He snarls against your lips, his breath brushes over your skin. “You’ll regret this.”

“Shut up and fuck me, you prick!”

Your lips meet in a violent clash of teeth and tongue. You’re pretty sure he bites you or perhaps you bite him. None of it matters anymore when you feel his prick against your soaked entrance. You’ve never been so wet- never so wound up- so desperate for sex-

You cry out when he enters you, a forceful thrust that buries him to the hilt in your twitching channel. He is big. Too big under different circumstances perhaps. He doesn’t give you time to adjust. He pounds into you, spearing you open, using his grip on your waist to bounce you on his cock in sync with each of his thrusts.

You cling to his shoulders, your nails drawing blood, fingertips running over old scars, exploring the surprisingly defined muscles of his lean stature.

Your breasts bounce, rubbing against his naked chest, his lips lay claim to yours, your face, your neck, your chest.

He stumbles, his left side giving in and you tumble to the ground. You’ve seen that happen before. The venom of you-know-who’s snake has left him with some permanent damage, not only the huge scar on his neck.

You don’t care.

You push him down to the ground, your hands on his chest and move your hips, lifting them, letting them slam back down, riding him. You throw your head back, your eyes closed, lips parted as his cock drags along your inner walls with delicious friction.

“So- so full-” You moan. Your breasts sway. Severus catches them, squeezing them with such pure delight on his usually reserved face. He twists your nipples between his fingers, revelling in the noises he coaxes from you.

“You could have had this so much sooner, idiot.” You hiss and grind down against him before lifting your hips up once again.

“Wha-?” His puzzled expression is almost cute.

“I’ve been trying to get you to ask me out for months!” As though to reinforce your discontent with his lack of romantic interest you pick up your pace. His head drops back into the flowers. The pale blue petals glow in his inky black hair.

“How was I supposed to know?” He asks, bucking up to meet your movement.

“I was flirting!”

“I thought you were acting especially stupid for some reason.”

“Arsehole!” You dig your nails into his chest but Severus seems to like that. His eyes squeeze shut, his lips part, pleasure drawn into every wrinkle of his face.

“Why didn’t you just ask me out?”

“Would you have said yes?”

“I’d have called you stupid. Perhaps laughed at you. Slip poison in your tea.”

“I hate you.”

“I don’t think you do.” 

Quicker than you can follow his movements you’re underneath him and your legs on his shoulders. Your head is still spinning when Severus starts pounding into you. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the clearing, accompanied by your and Severus' animalistic, feral sounds of pleasure.

“I don’t-” You moan and dig your fingers into the dry soil underneath you.

“I know.”

“You’re supposed to say me neither.”

“I do whatever the fuck I want, sweetheart.”

“Shut up.”

“No.”

His balls slap against your arse. His hand drops between your bodies, his fingers find your clit, run over it once- twice-

You see stars. Dots of light exploding all over your field of vision and pulling you into darkness, bringing the complex system keeping your body alive and moving to an abrupt stop. Your lungs refuse to fill with air, your brain crashes, your limbs tense, your whole body forced into a contortion made of carnal desire and the world-ending pleasure Severus Snape brings you.

You twitch. Then you inhale sharply, filling your lungs with air, shuddering, whimpering under Severus who spills inside you with an ear-splitting grunt and then slumps down above you. On top of you. Your legs found the ground somehow. His cock still inside you, throbbing, slowly softening, you lay in the dirt like a starfish, feeling dizzy, overwhelmed and confused.

“Friday.” Severus murmurs, his lips brushing over your cheek as he speaks. “Dinner. Be ready on time or I’ll leave without you.”

“Mh?” 

“You really are dense." He grumbles. "Your date, stupid girl. Friday.”

[angelremnants]

A TALES OF... l Tangled Desires

OR.. Loki has not forgotten your previous taunts from the time you had found him trapped in chains—an event you often bring up. Now, he plans to exact revenge by getting even, as a means to remind you who truly holds the reins in your tumultuous relationship.

pairing : Loki Laufeyson x f!reader

warnings : Mature themes (+16), suggestive content, power dynamics, mild bondage, flirtation and teasing, strong language. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to such material.

word count : 2.5k

author's notes : As always, insomnia is my greatest friend and I chose to spend the few hours I have left until my law exam to write about my beloved.

At the request of @mischiefmaker615 , here is a continuation of A Tales Of Bound Intentions—you can also read this separately. You ask, and I shall deliver; I hope this is to your liking, I made it a bit spicier than usual for the occasion.

Buckle up, because what I have planned for a few of the upcoming A Tales Of will get progressively more and more explicit. Stay tuned. <3

(ao3 version)

The two of you had been on the run for a few days since their escape from the dungeon. Although he couldn't bring himself to admit it, the rough treatment and teasing that you had subjected Loki to during their time there had taken a toll on his God complex.

He couldn't accept that he had been treated like a toy by someone whose skill level was comparable to a fawn learning to walk for the first time. He didn't appreciate the smug look you would sometimes direct at him or the subtle hints you dropped, masked as comic mockery and playful threats whenever he didn't "behave," as you put it.

No, he couldn’t let it slide. He would teach you not to mess with a God, let alone the God of Mischief and Trickery.

And so, he did what he does best—scheming.

Loki began his plotting by planting the idea of having a solution to collect more information about the catalyst of your powers that sat around your neck, saying that he knew more about the artifact’s connection to you than he initially let on. He insisted that he has the knowledge to uncover the truth but that you must trust him completely—“blind faith,” as he so smugly put it.

Should you not be as naive as he thought you were, you should have detected the treachery in his words. “Blind faith”, coming from the God of Lies? What a ridiculous request.

But despite your better judgment, you agreed. What a feeble mind, he thought cunningly. She must be really desperate.

Loki then led you to a forgotten place, deep within an uncharted realm where the air felt heavy with magic, thick and suffocating. He inwardly thanked the countless hours he was forced to study the realms up to the mere small bush; after all, without his grand knowledge, the plan he had concocted would be for naught.

As you arrived at the morbid ground, Loki insisted that retrieving the artifact’s “answers” would require you to pass a series of “trials.” He conveniently left out the fact that these trials were entirely fabricated. Each trial was designed to challenge you physically, mentally, and emotionally—pushing you to your limits while giving Loki the chance to watch, guide, and subtly toy with you. He watched your reactions closely, his amusement barely hidden as you grew more frustrated.

At last, you approached the ruins lying beneath a sky frozen in twilight, violet and gold hues bleeding together like an endless dream. Towering columns crumbled under the weight of time, covered in twisting vines that shimmer faintly as if alive with latent energy.

“This is where we’ll find the answers,” Loki said, his voice velvety yet distant, gesturing dramatically to the morose entrance. “Or rather, where you will.”

You glared at him suspiciously, brushing dirt off your hands from the last “trial” he had made you endure. “And you’re absolutely certain this parchment of truth of yours will explain why I have these powers?”

His lips curled into a smirk. “Oh, without question, mortal.” The twinkle in his emerald eyes suggested anything but sincerity.

You moved deeper into the ruins, his every step deliberate and graceful, while you stumbled slightly over uneven stones. The faint sound of dripping water echoed through the cavernous space, each drop like a drumbeat in your ears.

“Are you sure we’re not lost?” you muttered.

“Do try to keep up, mortal,” he teased, glancing back at you. “I’d hate to see you eaten by some lurking beast before we reach our destination.”

You muttered a string of curses under your breath, and he chuckled, the sound low and rich.

At last, you reached a vast chamber at the heart of the ruins. In the center, bathed in an ethereal light, was a pedestal. Atop it lies the artifact—a small piece of paper, pulsing faintly with a soft green glow, as if alive. The sight of it sent an inexplicable shiver through you.

“There it is,” Loki murmured, his voice dipping into something almost reverent. “The key to all your questions.”

Your eyes narrowed as you studied him. “Why do I feel like you’re enjoying this a little too much?”

His smile widened, sharp and dangerous. “Because I am.”

Ignoring his suspicious smirk, you stepped forward, your heart pounding in your chest. Finally, you would gain some answers as to why your peaceful life was to be tragically moved. The closer you got to the artifact, the more it seemed to hum, its light growing brighter as if reacting to your presence. You reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against the surface—

And then it phased through your hand, the glow extinguishing like a snuffed-out flame.

“What the—” You spun around, your confusion quickly morphing into anger. “Loki, what’s going on?”

His laugh echoed through the chamber, cold and mocking. “Oh, my dear, sweet mortal. Did you truly think it would be that easy?”

Before you could respond, glowing golden runes flared to life around you, their intricate patterns weaving through the air like serpents. In an instant, multiple shadows mimicking hands shot out, coiling around your wrists and binding your arms behind your back. You gasped, struggling against the hands, but they only tightened, holding you in place.

“Loki!” you snapped, fury blazing in your eyes. “What the hell do you think you are doing?”

“Well, well, well. Look who’s all tied up now,” he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement as he sauntered closer.

“You bastard,” you snarled, straining against the bodiless binds. “I should’ve known. You planned this.”

“Of course I did,” he said with infuriating calm, his emerald eyes gleaming. “You messed with the God of Mischief, after all. Did you truly believe I wouldn’t take the opportunity to get a little… payback?”

Loki sauntered toward you, his movements languid and calculated, the glow of his seiðr spread around the room illuminating each of his steps. Your arms were pinned to the wall of rocks behind you, and despite your best efforts, your struggle only seemed to amuse him further. He approached, and you felt the weight of his gaze.

“You’ve truly outdone yourself this time, Loki,” you snapped, your voice taut with anger as you glared at him. “Was this all some sort of twisted joke to you?”

“A joke?” His grin widened, sharp and merciless. “Oh, mortal, don’t flatter yourself. This is far more entertaining than a mere joke. Consider it… your next lesson.”

Your breath caught, your eyes narrowing as he circled you slowly, the sound of his boots echoing in the cavernous room. He moved around you, his presence a tangible force. “You think this is funny?”

He stopped right in front of you, his breath brushing against your neck as he leaned in, his voice a low purr. “I think it’s hilarious. Watching you stumble so earnestly toward a truth you were never going to find.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you growled, tugging at the glowing restraints. You strained against the magic holding you captive.

“And you’re predictable,” he countered smoothly as his expression shifted, the mocking tilt of his lips turning darker, more dangerous. “But I’ll admit, you do have your charms. It’s fascinating how someone so determined to appear strong can look so utterly vulnerable when bound like this.”

Your cheeks flushed, but you refused to look away. You met his gaze, defiant. “If you think you can intimidate me—”

“Intimidate you?” He laughed, the sound rich and biting. “Oh, no, darling, you misunderstand. I’m not trying to frighten you.” His fingers trailed lightly along your jawline, sending an unbidden shiver down your spine. He touched you, a feather-light caress that sent a jolt through you. “I’m simply… admiring the view. What was it you said? “A sight to behold”, I believe. I’m sure mine is far better than yours was.”

Your eyes widened slightly, your composure slipping for the briefest moment, and Loki seized on it immediately. His grin sharpened, his hand tilting your chin upward. He held your face, forcing you to look at him.

“You’re wondering what I’m thinking, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his voice dipping into something more intimate, more dangerous. “Shall I tell you? Or would that be too much for your delicate sensibilities?”

“I don’t care what you’re thinking,” you spit out, though your voice betrayed you, trembling just enough to embolden him. Your voice wavered, giving him the advantage.

“Oh, but you do.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. He whispered, his nearness unsettling. “You’d burn to know, wouldn’t you?”

“You’re disgusting,” you snapped, your voice trembling with fury—and something else you refuse to name. You felt a confusing mix of emotions, anger warring with something else.

He laughed softly, the sound curling around you like smoke. He chuckled, a sound that seemed to envelop you. “Am I? Or are you simply flustered because I’m saying the things you’d never dare to admit to yourself?”

“Let me go, Loki!” you demanded, your voice breaking slightly as you struggled against the binds. You renewed your efforts to escape, but the restraints held firm.

“To let you go..” His laugh is low and mocking as he circles you like a predator, his presence overwhelming in the empty, echoing chamber. He moved around you again, his presence suffocating. “Now, why would I do that?”

He stops in front of you, leaning in until their faces are a breath apart. He stood before you, so close you could feel his breath. “Do you know how breathtaking you look right now? Bound. Helpless. Furious. You wear indignation so beautifully.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, but your cheeks betrayed you, blooming red under his intense gaze. Your face flushed, despite your attempt to remain composed.

He chuckles, the sound warm and dark, wrapping around you like a velvet ribbon. His laughter surrounded you, a dark and seductive sound. “Oh, darling, you wound me. Do you truly think I’d go through all the trouble of setting this little trap if I didn’t enjoy myself? But please, anger yourself all you want, you're only becoming more and more enticing."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "What do you want from me, Loki?"

His grin widened, wicked and knowing. "I shall tell you, since you insist." His voice dipped lower, smoother, like the purr of a cat that’s cornered its prey.

Before you could respond, he stepped closer, his fingers ghosting over your jaw, tilting your chin upward so that you had no choice but to meet his gaze. "For starters," he began, his tone almost soft, "I couldn't help but notice how deliciously you squirmed when I had you at my mercy. It’s… distracting, in the best possible way.”

“I’m imagining what it would be like,” he continued, his voice silk-soft but laced with wicked intent, “to see that defiance crumble. To watch you plead—not for freedom, of course. No, that’s far too mundane. But for something else entirely. Something only I could give you.”

Your breath hitched, your entire body going rigid as his words sank in.

“I wonder,” he drawls, his tone almost conversational, as though he’s discussing the weather, “how many ways I could make you squirm. Would you bite your lip? Whisper my name? Or perhaps,” his smile turns cruel, showcasing razor sharp teeth, “you’d try to fight it. Deny what you’re feeling. But your body would betray you in the end, wouldn’t it? You would try to hide the squeezing of your delectable thighs together, in hopes it wouldn’t catch my eye. But oh, dearest, the scent of you would be enough.”

Your breath hitched, and you tried to turn your head away, but his grip was gentle yet firm, keeping you in place.

“You see,” he uttered, his thumb brushing faintly over your lower lip, “I also can’t help but imagine what other delightful expressions I could coax out of you. Like when you’re truly flustered. Or desperate.” His smirk sharpened, his eyes glittering with mischief. “Would you let out profanities? Would you curse my name, or worship it? Or perhaps…” His voice lowered to a whisper, rich with heat. “…you’d beg?”

Your eyes widen, and your face turns a deeper shade of red. “Loki!”

“Mmh, how I love the sound of you screaming my name. Yes, darling?” he purrs, feigning innocence as his thumb slides just beneath your chin, his touch barely there but maddeningly deliberate.

“Y-You’re—I’m gonna kill you when I get out of this,” you stuttered out, your voice trembling with fury—and something else you refuse to name.

“And yet, here you are, at my mercy.” His smile softened slightly, but the glint in his eyes remained. “And I think you’re rather enjoying this little game of ours.”

“I—what? No!” You struggled against the binds again, more to distract yourself from the heat crawling up your neck than any real hope of escape.

He laughed, low and smooth. “Relax, darling. I’m only jesting… for now.”

Your jaw tightened, but he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Though I must admit, the thought of you like this—so at my mercy—does spark all sorts of wicked ideas. If only you could hear the things I’m thinking. The things I could do to you.” His voice dipped into something darker, more intimate, each word sending a shiver down your spine.

“Stop,” you snapped, though it came out weaker than you intended, your resolve wavering under his relentless teasing.

He pulled back slightly, his expression one of mock concern. “Am I making you uncomfortable, dearest? Or is it something else entirely?” His smirk returns, sharper than ever. “Because if I’m not mistaken, you’re blushing.”

“I am not!” you protested, but your reddened cheeks betrayed you once more.

“Oh, you are,” he insisted, leaning back in as if to inspect you more closely. “And it’s absolutely adorable. It makes me want to eat you up.”

Your glare intensified, but he only laughed again, clearly relishing every moment of your frustration.

With a flick of his fingers, the shadows retreated, and you stumbled forward, barely catching yourself. You glared at him, but he merely watched you, his expression unreadable now.

“Consider this a lesson to remember,” he said, stepping back and watching you with a smug grin. “You may have power, but I not only am I far more capable, I also have… an extensive imagination. Next time, darling, do try to keep your wits about you. It’s unbecoming to be so… defeated.”

“You’re a pain in the ass when you want to be,” you muttered, your fists clenching at your sides.

“And you’re too irresistible when you’re angry,” he purred back without missing a beat, his smirk softening into something almost fond before he turned and started walking away.

As you watched him go, your heart still pounding, you swore under your breath. Loki, you decided, is a menace—a brilliant, infuriating, dangerously charming menace.

You briefly wondered if your heart could handle the road, knowing this was what to expect repeatedly until your journey ended.

see more A Tales Of related ficlets.

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[mylovesstuffs]

Somewhere Before – Wen Junhui

Part 2

Two strangers meet in a café on a rainy night, feeling oddly familiar to each other. As the night unfolds, they realize they may have met before, though neither can remember when. Despite their brief encounter, both sense a connection, leaving them to wonder if fate brought them together.

Genre: non idol au, magical realism (subtle), contemporary romance, slice of life and strangers-to-something-more

Pairing: Jun x fem!reader

Content: rainy night setting, subtle mystery surrounding their past connection, a café as a liminal space, magical realism/past-life connection (implied), emotional connection beyond logic or explanation, yhe idea that some people are meant to meet no matter the circumstances, mystical suggestion rather than a confirmed reality, fated encounter

Word count: 1222 words

A/N: This is for my beloved Kae @ylangelegy ♡ Ikik, I ramble endlessly in your DMs and probably bother you way too much, but I promise it's all love. When you mentioned feeling for our c-line boys as of late, I knew I had to give you something. Started writing this around 3 in the morning as inspiration struck yet again (the photo in the banner sparked it). It’s nowhere near the brilliance of what you write—not even close—but I tried. We run anyway (￣▽￣)ノ♡

The rain hadn’t let up all evening. It came down in sheets, drumming against the pavement, spilling off rooftops, collecting in gutters that could barely keep up. The city lights blurred in the downpour, neon reflections stretching across puddles like fragmented memories.

You were soaked by the time you stumbled into the café, water dripping from your deep emerald green coat, shoes squelching against the tiled floor. The bell above the door chimed softly, and a few patrons glanced up before returning to their conversations, their coffee cups cradled between their hands.

The place felt like a moment caught between heartbeats. Dimly lit, where the scent of roasted coffee curled through the air, a jazz record spun in the background, its melody threading through the hush of weary souls seeking refuge not just from the rain, but from the storms within.

You hesitated near the entrance, scanning the room for an empty seat, when your eyes landed on him.

He sat by the window, a book open in front of him, though he wasn’t reading. His gaze was distant, lost in the rain-streaked crystal glass, fingers idly tracing the rim of his coffee cup...There was something about him that felt familiar.

You didn’t know why, but your feet moved before your mind could catch up. “Is this seat taken?” you asked, gesturing to the empty chair across from him.

He blinked, startled from his thoughts, then glanced at the other empty tables before his gaze returned to you. For a moment, he studied you, trying to place you in a memory he couldn’t quite grasp. Then, with a slight nod, he gestured for you to sit.

You slipped into the seat, shrugging off your damp coat. The warmth of the café seeped into your skin, chasing away the chilly bites of the rain. The flickering candlelight cast gentle shadows on your face, the soft glow catching the curve of your cheek and the tousled strands of wet hair that clung to your forehead.

“Bad night?”

You huffed out a small, tired laugh. “Something like that.”

The response felt heavier than they should have, but you didn’t explain, and he didn’t ask. Instead, silence stretched between you, not awkward, but contemplative. The silence was of the kind that settles between strangers who are somehow without knowing why are at ease with each other.

The rain continued its relentless rhythm against the window. You watched the droplets race each other down the glass, your thoughts drifting.

“You look familiar,” you found yourself saying.

“Do I?”

You tilted your head, studying him. The sharp line of his jaw, the soft curve of his mouth, a mole just above the corner of his lip, the dark brown eyes that held a million words that you couldn't touch yet.

“Yes,” you murmured. “But I don’t know why.”

He exhaled, his gaze lowering to his book. He didn’t turn the page. “You remind me of someone, too,” he admitted after a moment. “But I can’t remember who.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, though, once again, you weren’t sure why. A strange coincidence. A mutual familiarity with no explanation. You wanted to say more, to unravel the threads of this feeling, but before you could, the barista approached with a fresh cup of coffee and a grilled chicken sandwich. He set it down in front of you without asking what you wanted.

You blinked. “How did you know—”

The barista smiled, then gestured toward the man sitting across from you.

“He ordered it for you.”

Your gaze snapped back to him.

He didn’t look at you, only lifted his own cup to his lips. “You looked like you needed something warm,” he simply said.

A beat of silence. Then, a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Thank you,” you said, wrapping your hands around the cup, the warmth seeped into your fingers.

Outside, the rain kept falling, the city moving on, unaware of the moment unfolding within the walls of the café. And for reasons neither of you could understand, you felt as if you had been here before.

-

The conversation that followed was slow, unhurried. Words exchanged in soft tones, like footprints left in the sand before the tide washes them away.

He told you his name. Jun. You told him yours.

He wasn’t from this city, just passing through, though he didn’t say where he was going. You had been here too long, though you weren’t sure why you stayed.

Deep and cliché but he asked about your dreams. You asked about his regrets. Neither of you had all the answers, but perhaps that was the point and was okay. There was something oddly weightless about confiding to a stranger in the middle of the night, in a café where time felt irrelevant, where the rain painted the rest of the world away.

You traced patterns on the tabletop as he spoke, the edges of your memories catching on something just out of reach.

And then, “I really think we’ve met before,” you said suddenly.

Jun’s fingers tightened slightly around his cup. He didn’t look surprised. He looked like he had been waiting for you to say it. “Maybe,” he said. “But I don’t remember when.”

You frowned, frustrated by the way the thought slipped through your grasp like water. “Not in this life,” you murmured, half to yourself.

He looked up then, his gaze meeting yours. Something coruscated in his eyes, a common memory neither of you could recall. A connection that had always existed, just waiting to be found.

You exhaled slowly, letting the thought settle between you. “Do you believe in fate?” you asked.

Jun was silent for a long moment. “I don't,” he admitted. “But I believe in moments like this.”

Your heart ached at the simplicity of his words. Because you understood. Some things didn’t need explanations. Some meetings weren’t meant to be questioned. Some people just found their way back to each other, again and again. No matter how many times they had to start over.

-

The café emptied as the night stretched on, chairs flipped onto tables, the barista wiping down the counters.

The rain had softened to a gentle drizzle, mist curling around the streetlights outside.

You both lingered, neither wanting to be the first to leave. But eventually, the night had to end.

Jun stood first, slipping on his coat. You followed, stepping outside together. The air was cool, damp with the scent of rain and earth. The world felt softer and quieter.

You turned to him, unsure what to say.

Would this be the last time? Or was it just another beginning?

Jun looked at you for a long moment, then, with the faintest hint of a smile, “I think we’ll meet again.”

Your breath hitched. You didn’t ask how he knew. You just smiled back, the warmth of his words lingering long after he disappeared into the night. And as the rain fell once more, you knew. Some stories never really end. They just wait for the next chapter.

The first time they met, it was a mistake.

The second time, it was fate.

Some souls are bound by threads older than time, weaving through lifetimes, destined to meet again in the spaces where memories fade and fate lingers.

[fandomfablesunleashed]

Lavish love

Sylus x reader

Summary: Sylus's love was nothing short of extravagant, not just in wealth but in the depth and devotion he poured into you.

Words: 278

Notes: Just a small something about the way Sylus love.

English is not my first language

Masterlist

The way he loved was lavish—not just in material wealth but in the sheer, overwhelming depth of his devotion. Yes, his money meant that luxury was second nature. He adorned you in the finest fabrics and jewels, gifts appearing as if conjured by magic, each one chosen with an almost unsettling precision. If you so much as glanced at a dress in a window, it would be waiting in your closet by nightfall. If you casually expressed interest in a place, tickets were already booked. He had a way of giving you things before you even realized you wanted them, as if he could pluck your unspoken desires straight from your heart and place them into your hands.

But that was only the surface of his love, the outward expression of something far deeper. Because more than the richness, more than the effortless extravagance, his love itself was lavish. He read you like a beloved book, understanding the subtle shifts in your mood before you spoke a word. He was always one step ahead, anticipating your needs before they even became conscious thoughts. He never missed a thing. A whispered joke just before a tense moment could overwhelm you. A comforting hand on your back when you needed support. A relaxing space prepared just for you when the world became too much.

His love surrounded you, weaving itself through every moment of your life until you couldn’t even imagine existing without it. And that was the most lavish thing of all. Not the riches, not the grand gestures, but the unwavering certainty that you were cherished.

His love wasn’t just there—it was all-consuming, and utterly, breathtakingly lavish.

[eeniey-past-bedtime]

Stolen Kisses

A/N: I finally sat down-

Finals are coming up SO let's say hurray to having 3/5 classes done. Sylvian was a good favorite, let's see him again.

Wanna invite me a dr pepper?

.

..

It started with a game.

You pressed a kiss to your fingers and blew it toward Sylvian across the campfire. He caught it midair with exaggerated grace, clutching it to his chest like it was a pearl dropped from the heavens.

“Ugh, you’re cruel,” he swooned, fluttering dramatically in a slow spiral. “What’s a radiant creature like me to do with such a stingy beloved?”

You only winked at him and turned your attention back to the pot you were stirring.

That was the first time.

The second, he landed on your shoulder while you were collecting herbs. He leaned close, lips practically brushing your cheek. “Surely you can spare one for me now?” he purred, eyes half-lidded with confidence.

You turned your head to "check the leaves."

And he kissed air.

“Sylvian?” you asked innocently. “Did you say something?”

He floated there, blinking, mouth slightly open like a fish out of water. Then he huffed and crossed his arms. “Nope. Nothing important. I wasn’t expecting anything from a cold-hearted tease with zero romantic timing.”

By the third dodge, you could practically feel the storm clouds forming behind his glowing wings.

He tried being subtle at first. Brushing your cheek with his fingers. Lounging across your hand like a petal-strewn prince. Stretching lazily across your pillow with his hair falling in just the right way. All of it was bait.

You didn’t bite.

At sunset, he tried the silent treatment.

He sat on a twig throne he'd conjured from magic and moss, arms folded, nose in the air. A tiny flower crown rested over one eye at a deliberately dramatic angle.

He did not speak.

You offered a berry. No response.

You complimented his wings. Nothing.

You hummed his favorite tune.

Still, silence.

For about two minutes.

"Okay, fine!" he snapped, springing to the air with a little zap of magic. “I’m giving you one last chance to fix this grievous emotional wound you’ve inflicted!”

You blinked, pretending to be confused. "Fix what?"

"FIX WHAT?!" Sylvian’s voice hit a high note birds would envy. “You haven’t kissed me all day! Not once! Do you know what that does to a fae spirit of my caliber?! I’m withering! Withering! I look like a spring crocus in November!”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, which only enraged him further. He began pacing midair, hands flying dramatically.

"I've been patient. I’ve been charming! I even tried the silent treatment — which, let me tell you, was agony. But you — you wretched little minx — have tested the full measure of my restraint!"

Then he zipped up to your eye level, cheeks flushed violet-pink with fury and longing. He jabbed a finger at your chest.

“I demand a kiss. Immediately. This is no longer a request — it is reparations.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Reparations, huh?”

“Yes!” he growled, wings trembling. “I am a delicate being of light and affection, and I require regular maintenance! Now kiss me, you magnificent tormentor!”

And when you finally leaned in, cupping him gently in your hands and brushing a kiss to his tiny lips, he melted. Literally collapsed backward with a fluttery sigh, one hand to his forehead.

“About time,” he mumbled dreamily. “I was one denial away from writing poetry in moss blood.”

..

.

[slytherin-princess-x]

I love

Mattheo x reader

I love

The scent of old parchment and lemon polish hung heavy in the air of the Hogwarts library, a scent I found comforting. My nose was practically glued to the worn pages of my book, a thrilling tale of hidden societies and forbidden magic. Every rustle of a page felt like uncovering a secret, every paragraph a step deeper into the mystery. I gasped, a loud, involuntary puff of air that echoed in the hushed space. This book was consuming me.

Mattheo had joined me hours ago, sinking into the chair beside me with a quiet grace that always surprised me. He usually preferred the shadows, the clandestine meetings, the thrill of the forbidden. But sometimes, just sometimes, he’d seek out the quiet corners of my world, and I welcomed him into them.

I hadn't exactly been subtle with my reactions. A furrowed brow here, a whispered "no way!" there. I'd even smacked the table once, a little too hard, when a beloved character met an untimely end. I was oblivious to the outside world, lost in the labyrinth of the plot, until I turned the final page and a wave of satisfaction washed over me.

I lifted my head, eyes wide with disbelief. The ending! It was both brilliant and utterly heartbreaking. I met Mattheo’s gaze, and the world seemed to shrink, focusing solely on the warm, brown depths of his eyes. A soft, almost hesitant smile played on his lips. It was a smile I rarely saw, the kind that reached his eyes and banished the usual cynicism that clung to him.

"You have to read this," I blurted out, my voice slightly too loud for the library. "There's this secret prophecy, right? And the main character, she thinks she's just a normal witch, but she's actually descended from..." I continued, launching into a breathless explanation of every twist and turn, every emotional high and low the book had put me through.

Mattheo didn't interrupt. He just listened, his gaze fixed on me. Not the bored, tolerant gaze of someone humoring a friend, but something deeper. He was genuinely seeing me, the way I got lost in stories, the way my passion bubbled over, the way I became animated when something excited me.

I finally ran out of steam, my voice hoarse, my hands fluttering in the air as I tried to convey the sheer brilliance of the author. The silence stretched out, thick and comfortable. The library seemed to fade away, leaving only me and Mattheo in the soft, afternoon light.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked, trying to lighten the suddenly heavy atmosphere with a small laugh. The intensity of his gaze was making me nervous, making my heart beat a little faster.

He didn't laugh. He didn't deflect. He just looked at me, his eyes filled with a vulnerability I had rarely witnessed. The shadows that usually danced behind his eyes seemed to have receded, leaving them clear and unguarded.

"Because," he began, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the quiet space, "I love you."

The words hung in the air, shimmering like a mirage.

I'd said "I love you" to Mattheo countless times. It was as natural to me as breathing. But his reaction had always been…complicated. The first time, he'd stammered a choked-up "Thank you," we laughed it off later. It became a running joke.

He'd never said it back. He’d shown it in other ways – the way he’d silently defend me, the way he would leave me little 'gifts' of sweets or books by my bedside, his own awkward way of showing feelings. I’d accepted that, understanding the walls he'd built around himself. I knew how hard loving him could be, the darkness he carried, the fear of letting anyone get too close. But I also knew the depths of his loyalty, his fierce protectiveness, the unexpected moments of tenderness that peeked through his hardened exterior.

But this…this was different. The way he said it, so raw and unburdened, stripped of all cynicism and reservation. He wasn’t saying it to be polite, or to appease me. He was saying it because it was the truth, laid bare for me to see.

He looked at me like I put the stars in the sky. Like I held the sun in my hands. Like I was the one thing in his chaotic world that made any damn sense.

Tears welled in my eyes. He hadn't just spoken the words; he had offered me a piece of his soul. And in that moment, surrounded by the scent of old books and the unspoken understanding that had always existed between us, I knew that I was the luckiest girl in the world.

Taglist: @yootvi @littlemadamred @smut-anarchy @redeemingvillains @nodoubtily @voidofsunlight

[serpentface]

What do Brakul and Janeys see in each other?

(I wrote some of this in quasi-character voice/pov on impulse (in brackets), though don't take it as actual dialogue. They wouldn't outright say most of this.)

WHAT JANEYS SEES IN BRAKUL:

-[He is just objectively beautiful. There's no way around it, this is just a material fact. He has the prettiest brown eyes and a cute gap in his teeth and he's 6'2'' and he's big and strong and hairy and well endowed (balls) and sooo virile and 6'2''. This is the ideal male body at peak performance so it's just inevitable to be wildly, painfully attracted to it. There's probably tons of other people who want to shove their face into his armpits.]

[But they don't get to.]

-Janeys is significantly more at ease with him than almost anyone else. He doesn't feel such an acute need to posture and put on performances, or as devastating shame when the performance 'fails'. The psychological factors that motivate this to begin with don't just like, magically go away, but they're much less acute. He feels like he can just Exist around him. It's nice.

-Thinks he's a really funny, smart and interesting person general. Very pleasant to talk and amicably argue with. Janeys finds a lot of things he never would have given a shit about suddenly very interesting because it's coming from him. Like 'yeah he's not EDUCATED per se but he has a fascinating repository of knowledge about like, cheesemaking and birds and freakish snow vampires and the many nuances of highland seasonal transhumance.'

-Janeys sees a lot of things in Brakul that he finds lacking in himself, and experiences a sense of being more complete, better, stronger, via this partnership (somewhat literally, sharing blood Is sharing spirit). He feels genuinely more confident around him, not just in his typical "I'm Confident that my family name and Odonii bloodkin status can force some deference out of you" way but like legit confidence. Not the healthiest way to develop self esteem and not put to the best uses but it is what it is.

-Matches his freak and exceeds it in strange and compelling ways

-Meshes Fairly well with his clingy attachment style (it causes friction sometimes though) and meets his substantial needs for physical affection and casual intimacy (at least in private).

-[He's a really, really, really good kisser]

-[He is my closest and most trusted friend, my brother. He's like how the most florid love poets describe their wives, except if a wife was a man and wasn't someone you had to marry. No one has ever loved a man like I have. No one has shared a spirit like I have. The concept of life without him is no longer imaginable, he is carved into my very skin, he's in my veins, mouth, hands. He is my natural compliment and easiest companion. My beloved, my heart, my blood, my other face.]

-[He's 6'2'']

---

WHAT BRAKUL SEES IN JANEYS:

-[He's very good looking, in kind of a subtle way. Like you don't necessarily notice at first, but he's got this sort of... sturdy yet gracile handsomeness to him? Like a deer, or a small to mid-sized bird of prey. Except attractive and a man. Very attractive. He has such a nice smile and the most gorgeous legs, and a cute little trail of hair up his stomach. Nice hands. And feet. Sturdy. Lovely hair. His eyes are just kind of scary but, otherwise.]

-[He's actually soooo nice when you get to know him. He is one of the sweetest and most caring people I've ever met, actually.]

[Sure he's kind of an asshole. To most people. On most occasions. But have you considered that THEIR vibes are, very often, simply bad and offputting, and maybe it's sometimes their faults for being irritating? Yeah. Think a little.]

-Brakul distinctly likes being one of few people Janeys likes and one of much fewer that he actually chills out around. He likes that he gets to see sides of him that are almost completely reserved for himself. He feels special.

-Overall sees him as someone who is often difficult and frustrating but ultimately deeply lovable. He finds him to be very caring, admirably loyal, genuine, and funny. Good to talk to, and good to sit in comfortable silence with. He sees him as a very different person but someone who compliments him well. Natural choice of companion.

-Has a generally realistic outlook on Janeys' abilities but considers him to be more capable than most people think and fairly talented in some respects. He would note him as skilled with the spear, pretty decent with the lyre, a good dancer and very beautiful singer.

-He absolutely likes that one of Janeys' 'love languages' is giving him gifts. He loves being the spoiled male wife of a nobleman. He was made for this shit. The gift-giving on Janeys' part initially made him nervous (on the presumption that it was indebting or otherwise transactional) but he is LONG since over it.

[Everyone was always saying, "Brakul you're kinda lazy and annoying, you lost all your mother's cattle in a really pathetic way, you strained the alliances between multiple clans to a breaking point by being a fuckup, you abandoned your firstborn," etc etc but look at me now. I'm so loved and I have 200 cattle and 12 khait and eat meat every day of my life.]

-Doesn't Fully match his freak, but does where it matters most. Sub/switch masochist for a dom/switch sadomasochist. Peace and love.

-Easily flustered in a way he finds cute/hot.

-Really likes his intense and earnest enthusiasm for physical affection/intimacy. The other people Brakul has had romantic/sexual experiences with in the past have been substantially less touchy-feely, and he prefers being able to show affection this way. Expressing this shit verbally can be difficult (with or without having to translate), it always feels a little insufficient. Lengthy and complicated sessions of making out/cutting each other/blood consumption/frotting/doing weird shit with cum/still vaguely sexual wound cleaning with vinegar/cuddling/etc have turned out to feel like a more comprehensive form of romantic expression. And not a lot of people are into that kinda thing, so this is pretty special.

-[He makes me happy. Sometimes I'll look at him while he's asleep or just sitting next to me or whatever, and still get hit with that new love, 'I'm going to throw up but in a good way' feeling, even after all this time. I'm glad to have found him. I'm glad to share my life with him. I'm glad we belong to each other. I've never found an adequate describe it, 'brother' is easy but completely wrong. It just is what it is. I love him.]

-[He does some crazy shit with his mouth]

[swagyalastorwife]

General dating headcanons Satan x reader❤️

A/N:hiiiiiiii guyssss !!!!!(^-^)/❤️ i tried my best for the sex part 😭😭🙏i hate doing this for Satan idk why?

⚠️warning⚠️: sex part

●Relationship●

♡ Being a king of the Ars Goetia is a lofty title to bear, but you stand out among your peers.

♡ Your small stature and kindness often surprise, especially in a world where cruelty and power are the norm.

♡ Yet, you have earned respect: your magic, your intelligence, and your ability to listen make you a beloved ruler, even if some initially underestimate you because of your appearance.

♡ Your encounter with Satan was initially explosive: he expected an arrogant rival, but he was quickly destabilized by your gentleness.

♡ You quickly became an anchor for him, a calming presence in a world where everything drives him to anger.

♡ You have never tried to change his nature, but you offer him a space where he can be vulnerable, far from the gaze and the infernal expectations.

♡ Satan loves to tease you about your height, sometimes lifting you without warning to place you on his lap or on a throne that's too high.

♡ But he's also fiercely protective: anyone who dares to disrespect or mock you must face his wrath.

♡ Despite his tyrannical image, he shows you a rare kindness, not hesitating to offer you small gestures or cover you with his cloak in the icy corridors of the palace.

♡ Your kindness isn't a weakness in his eyes,quite the opposite.

♡ It's allowed you to rally loyal allies, defuse conflicts, and even calm Satan's rage during his worst crises.

♡ Together, you form an unusual but formidably effective duo: brute force and diplomacy, the storm and the breeze.

♡ In public, you remain calm and collected, but you don't hesitate to rein in those who overstep the mark, sometimes with unexpected firmness.

♡ Satan, on the other hand, makes sure no one forgets that, despite your size, you are a king in your own right, respected and loved.

●Sexual●

♡ In private, the size difference becomes a game of complicity.

♡ Satan likes to carry you, pin you against him, or wrap you in his powerful arms.

♡ He sometimes calls you "my miniature treasure" with a carnivorous smile, but you know he sincerely admires you.

♡ You are often the one who calms his ardor, taking the time to kiss him gently, to caress him until his anger subsides.

♡ But there are also times when you take the lead, surprising him with your determination and creativity.

♡ You are not afraid to tell him what you want, to guide his actions, and he loves it.

♡ Satan likes to feel you vulnerable beneath him, but he always respects your limits.

♡ He takes particular pleasure in exploring every inch of your skin, making you shiver with pleasure, hearing you moan his name.

♡ He's attentive, passionate, sometimes a little rough, but always with an underlying tenderness.

♡ You like to reassure him, reminding him that he's not just an angry monster, but also a lover capable of unexpected gentleness.

♡ After lovemaking, you stay snuggled up to him, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, stroking his horns or his hair.

♡ These quiet moments are precious to both of you: they allow you to feel protected, and he to feel loved for who he truly is.

♡ Your sexuality is a blend of passion, subtle power plays, and tenderness.

♡ You love seeing him lose control under your caresses, just as he loves seeing you surrender in his arms.

♡ Together, you've found a unique balance, where the difference in size and personality becomes a strength, and where kindness is never synonymous with weakness.

❤️❤️❤️

[jgroffdaily]

(Contains spoilers, but there are errors from EW in the name of the character and episode number)

It's not the most obvious of punchlines, but theater lovers, especially Stephen Sondheim obsessives, may have caught a subtle nod to one of the Broadway legend's most beloved shows in the new Prime Video series Étoile.

In episode 6 of the ballet dramedy, choreographer Tobias (Gideon Glick) meets with his estranged boyfriend, Travis (Jonathan Groff), intending to break things off — despite the fact that they haven't spoken in more than a year and Travis has already moved on, getting engaged to someone else. It's a quick scene, meant to illustrate Tobias' growing interest in dancer Gabin (Ivan du Pontavice) and his general inability to keep track of time and space.

But it's also the setup for a great theater joke. Travis, you see, is a flight attendant, who Tobias says was "always flying off somewhere." As Travis prepares to leave, Tobias asks him, "Where you going?" and Travis replies, "Barcelona."

This is a direct quote of an exchange from "Barcelona," a song in Sondheim's Company in which perpetually single Bobby makes a weak attempt at convincing flight attendant April to stay and skip her flight to the Spanish city.

The joke was the work of Dan Palladino, the self-professed theater nerd who co-created Étoile with his wife, Amy Sherman-Palladino. "It actually fell into my lap because I made [Travis] a flight attendant first," Palladino tells Entertainment Weekly of writing the bit. "Because I had the joke about 'You're always flying around.' And then when he stood up to go, it just was one of those things that the heavens filter through you and you realize you can [make the joke]."

The history between Glick and Groff only made it richer. The two actors starred opposite each other in the original Broadway production of Spring Awakening, which proved to be a career-making show for both of them.

Noting that Glick and Groff hadn't acted together since then, Palladino adds, "They love each other — and they did it perfectly."

Glick couldn't agree more. "That was such a magical day because we brought all of our history together to that scene," he recalls. "You could tell that we care for each other. Especially in the case of somebody who just pops in for one day of filming, it was monumental."

For those who haven't watched the Company cast album documentary more times than they count or pored over Finishing the Hat with a magnifying glass, the exchange will likely play as a normal bit of dialogue.

But for the musical theater lover, well, Palladino puts it best: "It's only for people like you."

[writerthreads]

Ten must-read books for writers (or anyone, really.)

By Writerthreads on Instagram

Obviously this list is highly subjective and based on my research and personal experience. Please share your favourite books as well!!

1. To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf

Woolf is the queen of the stream of consciousness and a master at diving into characters' inner thoughts, conveying complex emotions, themes and perspective. Her prose is breathtaking, her character memorable.

2. Beloved by Toni Morrison

Morrison tackles difficult themes with poise like no other, diving into topics like grief, trauma, and identity. Read this book to learn how to develop multi-layered narratives whilst maintaining perfect pacing and a intricate narrative structure.

3. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

A masterpiece. Sharp social commentary, eloquent prose and vivid imagery... what more can you want from a book? Every word was chosen for a purpose, and it shows the importance of restraint in writing.

4. The Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien

Tolkien's legendary fantasy world-building makes his series a staple in fantasy literature. The geography, cultures and histories in his works are well-crafted. Anyone trying to build a complex world can learn from from this series.

5. Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf

Our second Woolf classic in this list! Mrs. Dalloway is a masterclass of a perfect character study. Woolf weaves different viewpoints intricately, capturing the essence of human experience.

6. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

Austen character development is legendary, showcasing complex, evolving characters like Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy. The novel’s witty dialogue show insight into personality and societal norms, and her narrative voice and well-structured plot keeps readers hooked to the very end.

7. Never Let Me Go by Kazoo Ishiguro

Ishiguro’s novel presents a quietly devastating exploration of memory, identity, and humanity through a dystopian lens. The subtle, restrained prose and profound emotional impact illustrate how to weave complex themes into a seemingly simple narrative.

8. The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid

This book made me cry so very hard. The author explored themes like identity and fame, while creating an engaging and multi-layered plot that had me hooked. Reid’s vivid prose showcases techniques for creating emotionally resonant and storytelling that allows readers to feel for the characters.

9. One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Márquez’s masterpiece provides a gorgeous, profound exploration of magical realism. Its intricate narrative and richly imagined world blends fantastical elements with real-world themes into something unique and breathtaking.

10. Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte

Brontes exploration of dark themes, framed within a dark and brooding narrative, makes it the quintessential gothic read. It's emotionally intense, complex in structure, and definitely memorable, perfect for any budding writer dabbling in dark academia, modern gothic literature, horror, etc.

And here's my rather shoddy list from a non-English major who reads too much! And Sorry for the lack of accents on the required letters, I haven't figured out how to add them on my laptop. Please give me a general opinion on my book recs and whether they're good, or if you have more suggestions! Lots of love.

[getawayfox]

My favorite reclist of the year! It’s the best excuse to reread beloved fics and shout about them again. I couldn’t wait any longer to post it, so, without further ado: here are my personal favorites from 2023 and why I love them, along with a banner I’m really pleased with. 

Thank you, sweet writers, for giving us your wonderful stories. Wishing everyone a happy December and an amazing and soft new year!

I Fall On Grass by @tackytigerfic Drarry, T, 3.1k

I adore stories with mature characters and this one is no exception. It’s so charming: gentle pining over the years, throughout the realities of life and parenthood, written with such a light hand. And lovely worldbuilding of a slow life that they built for themselves, which left me smiling the whole day after reading it. It feels like a soft caress for my soul.

It’s Me or the Peacock by harrows Drarry, T, 4.6

Do you ever feel like reading a fun, lighthearted fic that will have you grinning all day? Look no further, this is the one. Picture this: established Drarry taking the plunge to move in together, except Draco is bringing his “avian third wheel” with him, adding a feathered twist to the mix. Harry can’t quite believe what’s happening and that’s not even the half of it. This fic is a delight!

Sun Shower by @moonmanatee Drarry, T, 6k

Meet Orkie (short for Snorkel), the delightful cat who loves his boy Harry very much. They share a special bond, silently understanding not to delve into the origins of their pasts. What matters most is their companionship and the comforting routine they’ve woven together. Now, enter Draco Malfoy, a fashion icon with phenomenal outfits, his mud-loving dog, Hubert, and a dash of mouthwatering culinary creations. Your heart will grow three sizes by the time you’re done reading; mine certainly did.

Birds Behaving Badly by @peachpety Drarry, E, 10.5k

Oh, this fic!! I swear my whole body was wiggling with delight when I read it – it’s hilarious and hot and so witty. Draco has a type, which leads to a fun case of mistaken identity, all artfully resolved with the intervention of a conniving seagull, Kevin. Brace yourself for some sassy Slytherin banter, side characters so vividly portrayed they’ll steal your heart (Goyle, I’m looking at you), and the enchanting backdrop of a magical Brighton in the summer. Cue the squeals of delight! 

A Saviour’s Guide to Manners and Decorum by @wolfpants Drarry, E, 13k

I have read every fic Wolf has written this year and, let me tell you, choosing just one feels like an impossible task – I wish I could include them all. But here is my pick, and it’s not because it happened to be my birthday gift. This fic is a gem, seamlessly blending humor with a soft, wistful touch (oh, and do I need to mention it’s also incredibly hot?). It resonates because Harry just wants to be accepted for who he is, refusing to change for anyone (as he rightly shouldn't!). Enter Draco, who is here to help, and not to “fix him”. Sprinkle that with a subtle hint of D/s dynamics, a generous serving of UST, and a sensual shaving scene, and you have got the perfect fic. LOVE!

I only want the ones I envy (I envy) by @porcelainheart3 Drarry, E, 13.5k

This fic is so stunning! A coming-out story with writing so clean and sharp it made me laugh out loud through (lots of) inevitable tears. It has a very competent magical inventor Draco, who wears sock garters(!). It has Harry on a self-discovery journey that feels so very real; with a heart-wrenching childhood flashback that will leave you shattered. It has the most supportive friends. It has banter and flirting and so many wonderful details (look closely at the newspaper in the fic for an extra dose of laughter). And let's not forget the most incredibly emotional blow job; talk about smut with feelings! It’s one of those fics that made me read the rest of the author’s catalog immediately (and trust me, you should too!).

A Time, Dark and Divine by @moonflower-rose Established Drarry, Draco/Ron/Harry, E, 17k

Oh boy oh boy oh boy, this fic is so scorching hot. And their dynamic is so complex: jealousy and possessiveness wrapped up in a delicious package of a boys' trip in Thailand. A stunning Ron POV filled to the brim with complicated history and tension, incredible characterization for all three of them, culminating, inevitably, in hot-hot-hot sex. I couldn’t get this story out of my head for days. If you, like me, like feelings with your smut, this one’s for you! 

Waking Up Slow by @sweet-s0rr0w and @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm Drarry, E, 22k

This story is so charming and whimsical! First of all, this Draco is such an utter delight that I fell in love with him right away. He’s so entertaining! The concept of Christmas in July gives the story a wonderfully atmospheric and slightly wistful tone. Add to it a very domestic and playful dynamic between Draco and Harry, top-notch dialogue, so many creative details, and an absolutely delicious and intimate sex scene. From beginning to end, this fic is so warm and touching; a gentle romance that feels as if it was enchantingly sprinkled with a cheering charm.

the first in line by @oflights Drarry, E, 29.5k

This fic is hilarious, mischievous, and sexy all at the same time. And also a little bit unhinged in the best possible way. It had me in its grip from the very first sentence: “When the clock strikes midnight on his 25th birthday, Harry is having a threesome with a werewolf and a vampire.” (chef’s kiss!) and it didn’t let me go. We have a reluctant and grumpy Veela Harry, an over-the-top Draco, summer vacation vibes, a magical yacht, wooing with a hot air balloon (and more!), plus an absolutely delightful non-monogamous background Romione. Gah!!!

Of Magical Beings Being - Magic by @rockingrobin69 Drarry, E, 30k

What’s actually magic here is Robin’s writing. It’s… wait, I don’t think I have words for how rich and full this world is, how special! There’s pining and soft angst and an unreliable narrator and exes to lovers, but somehow all that doesn’t even begin to describe what this story is. It’s witty and fascinating and soft and playful. It’s about loving the other person so much that you do the wrong thing because you think that’s what they want, even though it hurts you. It’s about manifesting them in everything you do until they come back. It’s about Love, about Happiness. It knocked the breath out of me. It’s unbearably lovely.

Winner takes it all by @skeptiquewrites Drarry, E, 41k

This fic is absolutely devastating in a sort of gentle way. My heart broke a million times for this wonderful, hardworking, cornered Draco – who’s looking after his mum – as well as for a whole bunch of beautifully written side characters. The story starts with a bet, and from there, it unravels with Tee's razor-sharp writing, infused with nuance that makes the narrative incredibly rich and undeniably real. If you're in the mood for a cathartic cry, followed by a sweet, happy ending, don't walk – run to this fic!