#⦗✦| sobs quietly I had to DRABBLE |✦⦘

[loudstan]

hiii i was wondering if you would be down to do a small drabble based on that part where soobin had managed to pull yn out of the circle but with a twist? taeyong did not manage to arrive in time causing him to take advantage of her? i mean, let's be honest she would probably allow it, it's soobin after all

joke's on you because I have wanted to write this for a long time! So let's do it right now!

Warnings: manipulative soobin, cheating, dubious, not a happy ending.

You let out an exhausted sigh.

“Soobin,” you said when his grasp on your arms tightened. “let me go.”

For a few seconds, he only stared back into your eyes. 

“No,” he finally murmured, sneaking his arms around your waist and pulling you even closer.

“I’m not in the mood for your jokes,” you warned him, squirming in his arms.

“Good, because I am not joking.”

“You can’t–”

“Can’t I?” he purred. With a rapid movement, he had you with your back pushed on the wet grass, hovering over you. “Silly little human,” he teased. “Look at the time.”

Your heart stopped when you noticed the faint moonlight illuminating the fae prince’s fair skin. It was way past dusk.

You gulped. “S-soobin, please–,” your voice broke when you felt his fingertips caress your face. “Don’t hurt m-me,” you begged.

“Hurt you?” he echoed. “You know that is not what I want,” he trailed off when his thumb made contact with your lower lip.

Realizing what he was referring to, you turned your head to the side, breaking free from his touch. “Don’t– Soobin, please, we’re friends!”

He grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him again. “Friends…,” he scoffed like you had just insulted him. “Do you let all your friends court you?”

“I never–When d-did I–” you stuttered.

Soobin raised his eyebrows. “For someone who is writing a book about faes, you know absolutely nothing about us,” he sighed, using his free hand to reach for one of the berries that were scattered on the grass. “These are the sweetest berries you can find. I picked them myself,” he said casually, placing it over your lips. “Did you think I kept bringing them  to you because I am a good neighbor?” 

You were about to reply that that was exactly what you thought when he pushed the small fruit past your lips. True to what he had said, it was incredibly sweet, but now that you were aware of the implications of his gift you knew you shouldn’t accept it. So you spit it out. 

His expression remained calm, but the slight twitch in his eye told you he didn’t appreciate the attitude you were giving him. He pretended he didn’t feel you squirming under him to get free, as he unhurriedly grabbed another fruit and offered it to you.

You kept your lips sealed and scratched his arms stubbornly. He was equally, if not more stubborn, and he kept trying to feed you no matter how hard you made it for him. 

“WHY?!” He finally snapped after the 10th wasted berry. “You have been enjoying my courting for weeks! Why refuse now?!”

You stilled at his outburst. You had never seen him lose composure like this. He was panting heavily on top of you, his brows furrowed in anger and confusion. He looked so…human.

“I have never met someone as insolent and infuriating as you!” he continued. “Do you not understand the position you are in?! I reign over the entire forest and every single creature that inhabits it. That includes you. I own you!”

“P-please–” you tried to speak but you started sobbing quietly.

“Shh…,” he tried to soothe you, immediately regretting the way he had spoken to you. What was it about you that kept making him lose his cool? “I apologize,” he whispered, resting his forehead on yours and wiping your tears away gently. “That was very uncivil of me. No more tears, Y/N, please,” he begged you. 

“Y-you have to let m-me go…,” you insisted.

He shook his head urgently. “No,” he whispered, kissing your tear-stained cheeks. “Anything but that.”

“But–...T-taeyong–” 

“Does not deserve you,” Soobin growled against your lips. “Keeps disappearing and leaving you all alone. He makes you sad, Y/N.”

“No–” your protest was interrupted by the prince’s soft lips pressed firmly against yours. He moved his lips softly, but his hand on your jaw held your head tightly. He took advantage of your surprised gasp to lick and taste every corner of your mouth, moaning at the realization that he was finally tasting you. And you tasted better than he imagined.

A loud noise took him out of his daze and he quickly lifted his head to search for the possible threat. The last thing he needed was alpha showing up. Not that he would give you up now that he had finally had a taste of you. 

But there was nobody out there. 

He tilted his head and then he felt a slight tingle on his left cheek. 

He turned to look at you and saw you holding your right hand and wincing. Your palm was reddened. 

His own hand reached for his cheek as his lips curled into a wicked smirk. You had slapped the fae prince. 

“Did you really think a weak human could harm an immortal?” he asked you incredulously. 

“I… I just w-wanted you to s-stop—”

“Do not lie to me,” he warned you.

“I’m not–”

“You know I can feel everything you feel,” he reminded you, caressing your face lovingly. “I can feel your guilt, your fear… but you do not feel repulsed by me.”

You tensed and blushed.

“And now you are embarrassed,” he continued, chuckling and kissing your neck. “Oh, you love it right here,” he sighed, nibbling on a spot of your neck that had you gasping. “You exude such intense desire when I do this…” he breathed out shakily.

“Soobin–...” you whined, trying to push him away by pulling his hair. “I r-really c-can’t…”

“Y/N…” he whispered, rutting his hips experimentally and savoring the pleasure that consumed your body. “I can feel how much you enjoy this. Let go…” he meant for it to be a command, but he was practically begging you.

He could easily feed off this for eternity. He planned to.

But you were being so unnecessarily difficult. He was giving you what your boyfriend refused to give you and you were enjoying it. So, why were you rejecting him? Because you felt guilty? Because you were confused? Because you loved that bastard?

He felt a pang of jealousy and decided to try a different approach.

“This is your f-fault, you know?” he continued, trying to keep his voice even as he rocked his hips and you gave him the cutest little noises in response. “You have been so miserable these days…all you have been feeding me are gloomy feelings,” he pouted.

“I–,” you breathed out, biting your lip when he pressed his hips against yours harder.

“I spent all my afternoons here with you,” he taunted. "All to help you write your book, but you only give me insipid negative energy in return…”

“I d-didn’t mean–…” 

“I’m starving, Y/N,” he growled, suddenly stilling and looking into your eyes. “You did this to me.”

You gasped for air and pressed your legs together, embarrassed at the stickiness between your legs. You were horny and embarrassed.

“I’m s-so sorry,” you whimpered.

“Then do something about it,” he commanded. “Feed me something appetizing.”

You gulped. “T-tomorrow–”

“Now.”

“I…I can’t just feel good out of n-nowhere,” you complained.

He scoffed. “Useless human. I have to do everything myself,” he muttered, unbuttoning your blouse and pretending to be annoyed.

“Soobin!” you objected grabbing his hands nervously. 

He glared at you. He wasn’t actually mad at you. He wanted to hug you and tell you that he didn’t think you were useless, that you were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, and that he would take care of you better than your stupid boyfriend. He wanted to treat you gently. But right now he had to stay in character. You were so close to giving in.

“We had a deal, Y/N,” he reminded you.  He omitted that he had never specified what type of emotions you were supposed to give him in exchange for his help these past weeks. You had honored the deal by letting him feed off whatever you were feeling in those moments. 

But he was hoping you were too lust-drunk and remorseful to notice.

“I know,...I’m s-sorry,” you whispered as another tear slid down your face.

He fought back a victorious smirk. “I will make it good for you,” he promised, kissing your chest and caressing your trembling body. 

You felt terrible for not listening to your boyfriend when he told you to stay away from Soobin. You felt remorseful for taking so much time from Soobin without giving him anything in return. 

But what was worst was that you liked Soobin’s touch. How could you be such a terrible girlfriend?

“What you feel is natural, Y/N,” Soobin suddenly said, sensing your guilt. “You are loyal to a man who does not tend to your needs. Your body needs this,” he assured you, massaging your breasts gently.

You covered your face with your hands and Soobin chuckled.

“W-will you–,” you gulped nervously, feeling his lips traveling further down. “Will you l-let me go when you are satisfied?”

“Of course,” he mumbled, kissing your navel and making you shiver. 

He would let you go when he was satisfied. Which would be never.

“A-and I can go home after?” you asked while he pulled down your shorts

He paused and looked at your conflicted face. He kissed your thighs lovingly and, as usual, chose his words very carefully.

“You will go home,” he declared before diving in.

He never said whose home.

[bccksmarts]

   The witch hummed softly, cuddling with her itty bitty little Granger, Matilda, on her lap. It was mid-afternoon, windows open to let the sun in and to hear the birds tweeting away or to spot whatever magical creatures decided to fly by.

   Matilda wanted to read a story, which was usually a nighttime special thing they did, but Hermione couldn't help but oblige. Who can deny a child with a sweet sounding voice? Especially hers? So, she stopped doing whatever she was doing ( medical files and things for her job at St. Mungo's ), scooped up her little girl and wandered over to their reading area, plopping down on a large bean cushion, sinking into it. Matilda, 6 years old, giggled and got herself comfortable in her mother's lap, ready for whatever fictional story they were about to embark on.

   They got into the book after a couple of minutes, a children's version of The Little Mermaid—one of Matilda's favourites, and finished it quicker than they expected. That's Granger's for you. Though it finished, the youngster wasn't satisfied, and asked for a simple request.

   A song.

   Believe it or not, Hermione sung to Matilda constantly. It was a thing she did ever since she was a baby, and some songs hit home for them more than others. Tarzan's ❛You'll Be In My Heart❜ was a very special one, but they had literally just read a pretty romantic sort of book.

   Tapping her chin and thinking for a moment, Hermione smiled, as if a lightbulb flickered in her head. Matilda swivelled in her lap to look at her, leaning her back against Hermione's knees so she was comfortable.

   ❝Storybook endings, fairy tales coming true,    Deep down inside, we wanna believe they still do.    In our secretest heart, it's our favourite part of the story,    Let's just admit, we all wanna make it too.❞

   Hermione sung softly, tapping the child's nose with a laugh as she finished the verse, causing the girl to giggle in her lap but insisted her to continue. In which she did—

   ❝Ever ever after,    If we just don't get it our own way—    Ever ever after,    It may only be a wish away.❞

   Gods, how soppy... but Hermione found that she didn't seem to care. Every girl would want their own ❛ever ever after❜, she wasn't a fool to that. She wanted it too, and she knew a life with just herself and her little girl might just be it. She was content with that, mind you—this little girl was her whole world, and she wouldn't trade her for anything else, ever.

   Humming and watching Matilda lay forward, resting on her chest, Hermione messed with the girl's curls at the back of her head. Another Granger trait, of course. ❝Tired now, are you?❞ She asked softly, but received no response, taking that as a yes. A bit early for a nap, but she didn't mind. Besides, it gave her the opportunity to think of what an ever ever after, full and wholly, could be like.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。underneath the stars (looking for a sign)

synopsis. al-haitham thinks waking up beside you feels like a dream—well, until it doesn’t

— word count. 4.1k (how did a drabble get here sobs)

— contents. pining al-haitham, honestly it’s mutual pining lol, gn! reader, implied one night stands, consumption of alcohol (both reader and al-haitham) reader is a matra, al-haitham is acting grand sage, it’s basically the “avoid my crush after i accidentally sleep with him until he corners me” trope lol, confessions, brief angst and then a happily ever after, sfw + fluff, not proof read—this was entirely written on tumblr drafts through mobile app. yeah. we raw dogged this bad boy lmao

— notes. if you knew. how many wips i have with him. you would be astounded :,) he’s all that matters anymore

al-haitham wakes up to a bed much softer than his, red flag number one. there’s also a weight on his chest, red flag number two. red flag number three, however, doesn’t make itself apparent until he opens his eyes and sees you.

oh. not good. you’re covered in the sheets, but you’re clearly…topless, and a quick glance at his own torso tells him he’s also not clothed. oh. double not good.

but there’s also a small voice in his head that’s cheering and patting himself on the shoulder—he’s managed to fall into the bed of the very person he’s been quietly pining over for months, what more can a guy possibly ask for?

but unfortunately, his mini celebration in his inner thoughts is disrupted when you open your eyes at the disturbance from his movement—and before he can get even one word in, you shriek. rather loudly, too—it makes him wince at the sound (he’s always had sensitive ears.)

“what are you doing here?” you gasp, “and why haven’t you got a shirt—wait. why haven’t i got a shirt on?”

“well, it seems—”

“you slept with me?” you gasp again, cutting him off as your face twists in disbelief, “while i was drunk?”

“i was drunk too,” he points out, frowning at the accusations. al-haitham is a respectable man, and more importantly, he cares about you too much to take advantage of your inebriated state like that. “it was a two way street.”

that seems to calm you for…approximately two seconds before your face twists in horror again.

“al-haitham,” you wail his name in despair, slumping onto your mattress in defeat, “this is the worst thing we could have done. do you realize that?”

oh. you regret this—the voice in his head suddenly stops cheering. it deflates, in fact.

worst thing. is this really the worst thing? al-haitham thinks you both have always gotten along rather well, and he’s always taken your slightly stuttered words and nervous chuckles as a testament to holding the same attraction he holds for you. but maybe he was too quick to assume you feel the same, and your words now feel like a boulder on his chest. they’re heavy. soul crushingly heavy, in fact—but he keeps the blank expression on his face ever so easily.

“yes, it seems a bit inappropriate for coworkers to have an entanglement,” he agrees after a moment, making you whine at his word choice.

“you don’t have to call it that,” you huff.

then, out of sheer curiosity (and absolutely nothing else), you take a quick peek from the corner of your eyes at his chest. in your defense, his shirt leaves practically little left to the imagination, and when else will you get the opportunity to see his (very impressive) chest? a peek won’t hurt.

you’re thoroughly impressed when your eyes catch his sculpted pecs. his eyes are thoroughly unimpressed when they catch your gaze.

“well, what would you like to do about our predicament?” he asks flatly.

acting uninterested is the hardest part, he realizes. here, you’re within reach for his arm to curl around you, and yet somehow, there still feels like there are miles of space between you in the sheets. it’s a bitter reality, he thinks, one that stings a bit more than he’s ever really imagined.

al-haitham has witnessed lots of rejections in his time. whether it’s at the akademiya where he is the unfortunate witness of a rejected confession, or in novels he reads of unrequited feelings. he however never thought he’d land himself in the same situation—even if he hasn’t technically confessed to you yet. but your reaction definitely feels like one, and he’s smart enough to deduce that if he did confess, you wouldn’t take too kindly to the idea.

sure, it’s a bit unprofessional for the acting grand sage to have a relationship with one of the akademiya’s top matra that he works with rather frequently, but al-haitham is only the temporary grand sage. technically, after this, he will be going back to being the scribe who makes himself scarce on a regular basis. and it’s not very unprofessional for the scribe and a matra to be romantically involved, he’d like to argue. most people meet their significant others through the akademiya in the first place—why should he be any different?

but one glance at your face tells him you’re rather unhappy with this situation. he thinks he can hear a crack where the boulder resides on his chest.

“i think you should leave,” you mumble, chewing nervously on your lip, “and don’t say anything about this to anyone. especially not cyno.”

“noted,” he says blandly. you turn away, letting him have the privacy to rise out of bed and dress—which he does as slowly as possible, just to drag out the feeling of being in your bedroom for just a while longer—before he says clears his throat. “i’ll be seeing you,” he says.

“sure,” you nod awkwardly, “see you at uh…see you at work.”

with that, he walks out of your bedroom, and sees himself out. as soon as you hear the front door shut, you turn and scream into your pillow—the same pillow that happened to be under al-haitham’s head for the entire night, the same pillow that smells like his shampoo.

you think for a moment how you can never wash this pillow case again—and then, when you realize just what you’ve thought, you scream again.

you might just be entirely screwed.

—————

“and where have you been?” kaveh is waiting in the kitchen as soon as al-haitham enters.

great.

kaveh has a talent for making himself available to chatter away into al-haitham’s ear on the most stressful of days. whether it’s to greet him with complaints about having no help with cleaning after a long day of work, or to bang on his office door and demand an explanation for rejected funds as he does paperwork, or to ask where he’s been after he’s been wounded rather harshly by the one person he’s ever felt romantically inclined for, kaveh is always there at the worst possible timing.

leave it to kaveh to sour his mood more.

“i don’t see how it’s any of your business,” al-haitham mutters, grabbing the glass of water on the table and chugging it to help with the slight hangover he nurses—it’s evidently not his best morning in more ways than one.

“hey, that’s my glass,” kaveh scolds, “get your own.”

“it’s actually my glass. from my grandmothers set,” al-haitham corrects his roommate, “and i pay the water bills. so it’s my water too.”

“you—” kaveh shakes with frustration. it would pull a bit of an amused grin on al-hairham’s face if he wasn’t in the worst mood possible. “nevermind,” kaveh huffs, crossing his arms, “where were you—wait, is that a hickey?”

“no,” al-haitham says instantly, pulling his cloak higher to cover his neck—but kaveh beats him to it, reaching over and inspecting his skin. he seems to light up as soon as he realizes it is, in fact, a hickey on al-haitham’s neck.

“it is a hickey,” he grins gleefully, gasping in sheer disbelief that al-haitham seems to have some sort of life outside of work and home, “this can’t be. did you pay someone to get into bed with you—”

“just because some of us can afford such services doesn’t mean we indulge in them,” al-haitham grumbles, which earns an offended gasp from the blonde, “and i’m not obligated to tell you where, or with who for that matter, i was—”

“was it that matra you’re always standing around with?” kaveh grins knowingly, cutting him off.

the mere mention of you must make his face fall—which is new, because al-haitham has always been good at hiding his emotions on his face. but kaveh seems to have realized he’s overstepped, because his smile fades just as quickly as it comes.

“it doesn’t matter,” al-haitham mutters, “it was a mistake.”

“a mistake? but you’ve been pathetically pining for months, anyone with eyes can see—”

“i’ll be going to work now,” al-haitham cuts kaveh off, “make sure you pay this months rent on time.”

with that, he turns, making his way to his room to shower and then be off to the akademiya—where he equal parts hopes he doesn’t see you, and equal parts hopes he runs into you just to catch a glimpse of you again.

—————

you haven’t seen al-haitham is six days—correction: you’ve avoided al-haitham for six days. admittedly, it’s becoming increasingly difficult seeing as he is the acting grand sage, and you do need him to approve of your reports from recent investigations—but then you remember how six days ago, in the darkly lit corner of the street on your way home, you both kissed.

(and yes, it was a drunken mistake—neither you nor al-haitham value public displays of inappropriate affection between coworkers, but that doesn’t erase what happened.)

perhaps it would be easy to laugh it off as an impulsive action the both of you took while being under the influence, but then you both stumbled into your house. and then your bed. and then a kiss turned into more…and then next thing you knew, you’ve been awakened to a very unclothed (but still very handsome) al-haitham next to you in the mattress.

you should be mature and face him—people can sleep with people and not let it mean anything, proper adults would simply brush over this and never look back. but al-haitham is a bit of a difficult scenario.

he’s handsome—painfully so, with those sculpted muscles and those soft strands of hair that fall perfectly over his face. but more than he is easy on the eyes, he’s a charming individual. at least to you—you think the majority of the akademiya would have to disagree.

but al-haitham is kind, he greets you properly, holds doors open for you, and he often notices when you’re tired just by looking at you before giving you extensions on reports. he’s caring, you can tell because he’s helped people more than once, and while he claims it’s for the sake of his own convenience so he can avoid extra trouble, you know that he doesn’t have the heart to turn away from those that need him. more importantly, al-haitham is disciplined—it’s something all matra such as yourself can appreciate.

he seeks out knowledge in the most moral of methods, he never crosses limits or abuses power even when he holds the ability to, and he never takes advantage of the authority he may hold over others.

he’s wonderful, you can’t help but think—and admittedly, his hands also have very attractive veins that make you sweat a little. but that’s not the important part, of course. the important part is how perfect his character is, if you take the moment to understand it. and you like to think you understand it—much more than most at the akademiya.

except romancing the akademiya’s grand sage isn’t the best look for a matra—especially if you want to climb up the ranks soon. you don’t want rumors spread to undermine your hard work…or worse, be accused by the general mahamatra of taking your position as the grand sage’s lover to your advantage for work gains.

cyno is a strict individual—you’d hate to get on his bad side. and just as you think about how awful it would be if he got the wrong impression, he walks right up to you.

with that serious look on his face—why does he always have that serious look on his face?

“grand sage al-haitham requests you in his office,” he says. you don’t detect any suspicion in his voice, and it seems like a perfectly normal statement, but that’s the thing about cyno. he’s too good at not letting his movements be read, too good at cornering caged animals before dragging them by the ankles out in the open, exposed and vulnerable.

you gulp. “did he say why?” you ask, “i’m a bit busy.”

“no,” cyno shakes his head—and then he looks at you oddly, “you don’t seem busy.”

“well….this report won’t write itself,” you chuckle nervously, which only makes his brows furrow in confusion.

“wasn’t that due two days ago?”

fuck.

“yes….but al-haitham gave me an extension.”

“he seems to give you a lot of those,” cyno points out, unimpressed.

well, that’s great, you think. surely, there is no other matra as good at losing composure and making things more obvious for themselves than you.

“i haven’t been feeling well,” you say quickly—which isn’t the worst excuse, seeing as you’ve hardly shown your face at the akademiya for the last few days.

cyno seems to buy it too, because he nods in understanding before giving you a concerned look. “you shouldn’t push yourself, you know,” he lectures, “being sick snot fun.” you blink, and he looks thoroughly amused with himself. “get it? because when you’re sick, you might have a runny nose? snot? and—”

“right,” you nod, “i’ll be seeing the grand sage now. i wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”

at least you know cyno has not made any….inappropriate assumptions if he’s making jokes, as painful as they might be. you’re not sure if you’d rather face al-haitham or continue to listen to the general mahamatra’s interesting sense of humor, but the closer you get to the grand sage’s office, the more you want to turn back and find cyno again.

but you’re an adult, and adults do adult things sometimes, and sometimes they’re not the most ideal, but the only way to handle such situations is the adult way—to be mature and not let things get in the way of being professional. easy enough.

at least, you hope.

—————

“you called for me, grand sage?”

ouch. al-haitham has now been reduced to grand sage, not just al-haitham. he looks at you for a moment, and he tries—really, he does—to seem unbothered, but his brows crinkle before he can stop them.

“i did, yes,” he says, looking at you.

you look lovely—which, you always do, even when you’re nervous. he can tell you are because you have that habit of chewing on your lip when you’re nervous, and he hates that he makes you anxious enough to do that right now.

al-haitham has always hated the gap between him and everyone else—not because he enjoys being close to others, but because it’s burdensome to always seem like a pretentious asshole. being interpreted as one over the years has left him quite numb to what other people think….but that’s not the case with you, unfortunately. he wonders if you’ve ever thought he was an asshole, or if you’ve ever felt that he acts like he’s better than you are. he hopes you’ve never talked to him and thought he’s condescending like kaveh insists he is—he hopes you find value in his honesty and find him insightful.

he thinks you might have at one point, if the way carrying conversation with you is so easy is of any proof. it feels natural, talking to you. your voice is smooth, especially when it reads over mission reports to him in his office. your laugh is even smoother, though—it’s soft, and honeyed, it sounds like something he’s been missing his whole life.

everything about you feels like something he’s been missing his whole life, like he was born to be with you by his side, and he’s been empty without you all along.

you clear your throat, handing him papers as you pull him from his thoughts and say, “here is the report for that last investigation,” you say quietly, “i apologize for the untimeliness. it won’t happen again—”

“that’s not why i called you,” he cuts you off.

al-haitham is a straightforward man. he’s watched many confessions, and he’s read about many confessions, and he’s even thought about how his own confessions might go should he ever find someone he finds interest in.

but this isn’t interest. al-haitham is not interested in you—he needs you. to call this a confession might be incorrect, he thinks for a moment, because this almost feels like he’s about to plead for you to give him a chance.

“oh,” your voice is small.

you think you have an inkling of an idea of what he’ll bring up, and you contemplate running out of his office and begging cyno to tell you a few more of his jokes….or a few dozen….maybe a few hundred to be safe.

“we should talk about that night—”

“well, there’s not much to talk about,” you say simply, “you and i are consenting adults, and we happened to be heavily under the influence, which caused a lapse in judgement. it’s a bit unprofessional, sure, but as long as neither of us say anything, and as long as we manage to keep a professional atmosphere between the two of us, there shouldn’t be any—”

he cuts off your (rehearsed in the bathroom mirror many times) speech as he clears his throat. “i….” the words are caught in his throat.

for a lifetime of straightforward honesty and blunt words, it seems like now of all times he can’t seem to speak.

“you…?” you motion for him to continue.

“i enjoyed it.”

you sputter. his eyes widen as he stumbles over his words when he realizes what he’s really said.

“grand sage,” you gasp, “i think that’s hardly appropriate for—”

“n-no, i meant i enjoyed you,” he says quickly, making you furrow your brows.

“and what does that mean? because—”

“i enjoyed being with you,” he croaks. it’s a good thing kaveh isn’t here to witness this, because as a self proclaimed expert at love (which al-haitham would have to disagree), kaveh would have an absolute ball watching this. “i don’t….i would prefer if we didn’t pretend nothing happened,” he mumbles, “if you feel the same, that is.”

everything about al-haitham is hopeful. from the way his eyes watch your every movement as they stare at you, to the way he clutches the pen in his hand tightly in anticipation of your response, he’s hopeful. you can tell.

you can tell he’s hopeful you’ll say yes, that he’s hopeful you’ll say you feel the same way as him, that he’s hopeful he’ll see you again in a setting that’s not just for work and mission reports and investigation details.

he’s hopeful you’ll say yes to his pleading eyes and fill that empty spot beside him that’s been empty for far too long.

and it feels like swallowing lead when you sigh heavily and watch the hope crumble.

“al-haitham,” you mumble, “this wouldn’t be very wise, you know?”

“and why’s that?” the hurt in his face is almost tangible.

he’s not foreign to rejections, he’s witnessed them his whole life. he watched that haravatat scholar that declined the amurta one outside of class that one year. he read about that main character that found self respect and declined the toxic love interest in that novel he read last summer. he’s declined his own fair share of confessions by random scholars that stare a bit too long at his chest and arms for his liking.

but for some reason, he never imagined it to feel like this. like being with your for one second longer might just burn his skin, but being away from you might leave him cold and numb. al-haitham thinks that if you walked out that door, you might just take every bit of warmth he’s ever known from him—but sitting in front of you, in front of your sorrowed expression and sympathetic eyes….it might be too much heat for him to handle.

“well, you’re the grand sage, and i’m a matra—”

“acting grand sage,” he corrects, “it’s temporary. i’ll be back to being the akademiya’s scribe in a short bit.”

“but people talk,” you insist, “and i’ve worked hard to be a respectable matra, and i wouldn’t want anyone to think i’ve slept my way to the top. plus, the general mahamatra is technically my boss, and he’s very strict—”

“the general mahamatra and i drink at taverns together quite often,” he says pointedly, “he’s well aware of how i feel.”

“you told cyno?” you gasp, shooting him a sharp look, “i asked you specifically not to—”

“he’s known of my feelings before that night,” he assures, “evidently i’m not very subtle.”

“well,” you hum, biting back a smile, “no, you aren’t.”

he raises a brow, tilting his head in confusion. “you’ve known?”

“al-haitham,” you chuckle, eyeing him fondly. something about the way your smile is so bright makes him clutch his pen tighter. “you aren’t the most social, you know. but you always have something to say to me.”

“that doesn’t always mean anything,” he mumbles, blush rising to the tips of his ears.

he’s endearing this way, you decide—when he’s flustered and almost pouting and flushed a bright shade of pink. you think for a second that maybe, if you kiss him for a bit in the comforts of his office, no one will ever have to know.

“but it does, doesn’t it?” you tease.

“and if you’ve indulged it all this time, am i safe to assume it means something to you too?” he asks, raising a brow.

you should say no. sleeping with the grand sage and kissing him in his office and maybe even going on dates and possibly holding hands is hardly a good look—but the scribe….well, maybe the scribe is a different story.

“ask me again when you’re the akademiya’s scribe,” you say, biting back a smile, “perhaps my answer will be different then.”

“i see,” he nods, biting back a smile of his own, “i suppose the grand sage isn’t everyone’s type, huh?”

“no,” you chuckle, “i suppose not. but the scribe….well, he’s rather charming.” you walk up to him, lean down and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth as you mumble, “i don’t mind waiting for the scribe.”

“well, lucky for you, you won’t have to wait too long,” he hums.

he watches you leave his office—and then he decides that when he clocks out at five pm sharp later, he’ll go straight home, tell kaveh that he is, in fact capable in the field of romance, and demand this month’s rent.

—————

“haitham, we’re out of eggs,” you pout, poking your head out of the fridge, “will you bring some on the way home today?”

“we would have eggs if kaveh didn’t use all of mine,” al-haitham grumbles, glaring at the blonde who gasps in offense. 

“and you help yourself to my beer, don’t you? i deserve a few eggs,” kaveh huffs. 

“well, make sure you pay this month’s rent on time. we’re going to buy some more furniture for our room.”

this time, kaveh turns to you in disbelief—you find it amusing how he seems to still find it improbable that anyone would like to spend longer than five minutes with al-haitham, let alone share a bedroom.

“are you really sure you want to do this? what could you possibly see in him? he’s the most aggravating individual i’ve ever had the pleasure of talking to,” kaveh eyes you in concern as you walk over and press a soft kiss to al-haitham’s forehead, earning himself an unimpressed glare from the scribe and making you giggle. 

“he is a bit aggravating,” you agree with a teasing glint, pinching al-haitham’s cheek as he scoffs, “but i think he’s just nice to me because i sleep with him.”

“that’s gross,” kaveh wrinkles his nose, “you had better not be doing anything i can hear from my room—that would be traumatic. although, it must be more traumatic for you,” he says with sympathy.

“if you don’t like it, you can simply move out,” al-haitham, shrugs, wrapping an arm around your waist. as much as you love your boyfriend—and you love him quite a bit, you can’t help but mourn the fact that constant bickering will now become a staple in your daily routine. 

“are you threatening me?” kaveh gasps before he turns to you with his finger pointing to al-haitham, “do you see? this is your future, i hope you know that. he’s much more unpleasant to live with, i’m warning you in advance—don’t say i didn’t try.”

“well, i’m sure he’ll be on his best behavior for me,” you grin, eyeing al-haitham playfully as your fingers weave into his hair, “otherwise, i’ll have to come sleep in your room when i’m mad at him.”

you think, for the first time ever, kaveh and al-haitham seem to agree on something as they both share a look of dread at your words.

pov: you write 3.8k words of build up for a plot just so you can write the last scene 😭

no bc literally i meant to write this as a drabble just so i could write that last scene bc i thought of it and giggled but then the plot just kept going and now we’re at 4.1k words like w h a t

[lemonandlime22]

Just so Tired

Summary: Mc doesn't know how much more of this they can take.

Warning(s): angst, om nb spoilers mostly L15 spoilers, cussing

Word count: 603

A/N: Just a quick angsty nightbringer drabble, I know there are a lot of these but I rly like em. I've been so very caught up in getting the last bit of school done before summer break, just a few more days and ill hopefully be able to post more again.

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They all looked so happy there, just talking to Satan and asking all these questions about his books. Even Satan began to grow more excited as he answered them, reminding you of Levi when he talked about his interests. Times like this always made your heart grow warm with love and the feeling of peace, seeing them all happy together, not fighting, bickering, and with no problems that need fixing. You always made sure to stay quiet and just watch during these times unless any of them brought you into the conversation, you didn't want to disturb them and you were happy to just watch with a soft smile and warm eyes.

You felt so at home here, well obviously, this was your home and had been for years. And there for a moment you forgot, forgot all about how these brothers barely knew you and how much of an outsider you were to them, about how they don't share the memories you have with them.

But that moment was short and you were brought back to reality not a second later when Satan went on about a book he had recently started, looking at the cover you recognized it. It was one of the first books he had recommended to you, he always talked about how much of a good classic it was. And just like that, your guard was up again and you were aware of your position in this place.

You were their attendant, not family. This house was no home to you, at least not now. You could feel your heart being ripped apart for what felt like the millionth time since that fucker sent you here. You didn't know how much more you could take.

There was a ball that formed in your throat as you looked onto the warm moment before you. You truly hated it here, you hated how you couldn't be fully open with your family, with the people that you had grown to trust and love so much. You hated that you could no longer trust them and you had to be careful with what you said. You would love nothing more than to take Beel and Belphie up on their offer of talking to them, but you couldn't, you couldn't tell them a damn thing.

That ball grew as tears threatened to spill from your eyes and it felt like you would have to choke back sobs at any second. While they were distracted you quietly slipped out of the room and slowly made your way through the house, seeing it now as a reminder of the situation at hand only helped the tears spill.

By the time you made it out the front door, your cheeks were already stained with tears and more were following. Grabbing your DDD from your pocket you dilled for Solomon,

"Hello dear Mc, what cracklin'-" Solomon paused his sentence as he heard your choked-back crying, he only sighed and reassured you he'd be there soon to pick you up. By the time he got to the House of Lamentation you had stopped crying and just staired blankly at the ground with your knees hugged to your chest.

He sat next to you on the stone stairs, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. "Solomon..." You spoke quietly, almost to yourself. "Yeah, Mc?" There was a silence between the two of you that setaled back in for a moment before your shaky horse voice cut through it once more, "I..I'm tired..."

The wizard sighed and placed a protective arm around your shoulders "I know Mc...I know..."

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[mosaickiwi]

(sorry for any mistakes, English is not my native language) Hello, I hope you are doing well! Can I ask you for a drabble about the wedding day of an emotional MC who burst into tears because she thought that this day would never come and REDACTED, but without the “lavish ceremony” (lots of guests, wedding suits, huge celebration, etc.) (please forgive me, I hope I was able to express myself clearly, thank you very much and have a nice day!) ฅ'ω'ฅ

!!!

By law I must post wedding fic on Valentine's Day!!!

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~Wedding Day~

You nervously toyed with the ring in your palm, heart racing so hard it hurt. It was still difficult to believe what was happening. This was happening.

It was the same golden ring your partner had worn since you first met him. There wasn't a moment you ever saw them without it as he changed from a shy, stuttering mess in a cardigan to the clingy, dark-haired brat of a man you fell in love with more and more each day. Although the amount of rings they wore had grown.

That fateful day on the playground was something you couldn't even remember, and from what your companion told, you didn't want to. The second try was a far better memory for the both of you anyway. You were the one who proposed that time, catching them by complete surprise with the confidence you never usually had to ask anything of him. But you managed to do it.

And now you were the one who would put a ring on their finger.

“We haven't even started the vows,” [REDACTED] quietly said, pulling you from your thoughts. “Y'can’t be cryin’ just yet, Angel.”

“Am I crying?” The words came out hoarse from your already tightening throat. You hadn't realized. Sure enough, hot tears were streaming down your face as he gently wiped at them with his thumb. 

You tried to calm down, gazing up at him to distract yourself. Their voice had the same familiarly teasing tone it always did, but you could tell from the soft quiver to his lower lip that he was holding back his own tears.

“Yeah, it’s—” He let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, then hurriedly pushed his dark hair out of his reddening eyes. You wanted to tease him back about it, but you knew if you tried to speak again the tears would come flooding even worse. Another few moments passed as you both tried to collect yourselves.

Surprisingly, it took him a little longer. The tears on your cheeks had long fell and dried while he stood in front of you, eyes shrouded behind their bangs.

But after one more unsteady breath, he seemed to find his way again and look at you. “Are you ready?” they asked, a shakiness to their hands as he reached for the dangling chain around your neck—the necklace he’d given to you months ago once he’d found the courage to say yes to your proposal.

With your anxious nod of approval, he continued. Cool fingertips brushed at your collarbone, finding the silver clasp at the back of your neck and releasing it with a faint clicking of metal. The necklace fell loosely in his hands as he pulled it away. The golden ring easily slid from the chain and he rolled it in his fingers for a long moment, staring at it silently.

They were noticeably calmer this time, with a trembling smile that reached their eyes as he took your left hand and repeated himself. 

“Ready?”

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Eternal

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1.2K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: yelling, Astarion being a dick, arguing, angst, hurt/comfort, #sadgirlhours @ me bitches (it’s me, I’m bitches), ends fluffy because I can't stay mad at my baby

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Astarion had been in a bad mood the whole day. You noticed it this morning when you woke up without him. You found him down by the stream, he had ignored you a bit. You left him be, thinking he was just not in the mood to talk that early. However, he seemed to be avoiding you and whenever you were in his general vicinity he seemed… irritated? You were beyond confused, everything had been going well for months, you had little bickering spats but nothing serious. Your worst fears broke into your mind; did he want to break up? No, of course not. That’s silly. You willed your feet to walk to him at the campfire. He ignored your presence until you sat next to him. Close enough to bump shoulders. Astarion shuddered away from you. That hurt, yet you persisted. You were jovial and elated, talking and laughing with the others around the fire. You turned to kiss Astarion’s cheek and hold his hand. 

He scoffed before untangling himself from you, “Gods Y/N stop! Stop being so clingy its fucking infuriating.” he said loudly. 

Camp was silent, the others looking at Astarion before looking at you. You were petrified, your breathing had stopped. You felt your eyes welling up with tears. You slowly stood up from the log and started walking to your tent.

“Y/N…” Karlach whispered. Shadowheart gently held your arm before you patted her hand, giving her the most broken smile. You kept walking until you were able to curl up in a ball, in private and let your sobs out into your pillow. 

--------------------------

“What the fuck?” Shadowheart snapped at Astarion as soon as you were inside your tent. 

“What? Lovers can’t quarrel?” Astarion huffed out looking away from everyone. The ball of shame inside him started to consume him. 

“Quarrel? Yes. Yell and demean? No. You hurt them Astarion, lovers don’t do that.” Gale chimed in.

“Always tell the truth is my motto, they needed to hear it.” Astarion waved everyone off, trying his best to sound his regular posh self. 

“Yeah, well, here's a truth for you - you're an asshole.” Karlach said, glaring before her and Shadowheart sauntered off to your tent to comfort you. 

Wyll walked away shaking his head in disapproval. Gale walked to his tent but stopped in front of Astarion, softly clapping his hand onto his shoulder. “They worry you know? About everything when it comes to you two. Their thoughts about it are so loud I hear them nonstop. It's quite deafening actually. Do you want to know what I hear now?” 

Astarion’s eyes turned soft, he was almost afraid to know but nodded anyway.

“Fear. Of losing you. Of overstepping your physical boundaries. Of being kicked out of camp. Of existing… I know you feel deeply for Y/N but they do not deserve to feel this way. If you are going to treat them like this, end it. I do not like to see my friends in anguish, and right now, they are suffering. Thanks to you.” Astarion had never seen Gale so stoic, so protective. And worst of all, Gale was right. 

Astarion hung his head, he rubbed his hands over his face in frustration before pushing past Gale. Astarion quietly made his way to your tent. The sight inside broke him down completely. There you were, crying into Karlach’s chest as Shadowheart held your hand and whispered honeyed words to you. Astarion gathered some courage before taking in a sharp breath and walking in. The women immediately glared at him. If looks could kill, he’d be back in that coffin, 6 feet under. He put his hands up, showing he meant no harm. You sat up, finally looking at Astarion. You wiped your face of tears. You nodded at the women, letting them know you could hold your own in this moment. They left the tent, both of them “accidentally” shoving Astarion’s shoulder. 

Your lip was quivering and you felt a lump in your throat, you swallowed it down before saying “Say your piece.”

Scared! Run! Hide! Astarion’s tadpole wriggled and screamed at him. You really were scared of him, the thought itself killed him. 

“Little love…” he whispered, trying to take your hand. You yanked it away and scooted further away from him. Hurt flashed across his eyes and he had nobody to blame but himself. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m sorry…” he spoke quickly, unfamiliar still with trying to communicate his feelings. 

“Did I do something wrong?” you whispered, the lump forming again quickly. 

Astarion wanted so badly to hold you. Truth was you weren’t clingy. You were perfect. A fucking saint actually. He was incredibly lucky to have such a kind soul love him. He loved you more than anyone, anything. All the malice in his body melted away in that moment. “No, my sweet. I… Truth be told, I have been in a sour mood for a while.” he did his best to explain.

Your face dropped even further, “Do you want to break up?” your voice wavered heavily. You didn’t want to keep him trapped if that is how he felt. It would break you but not all broken things are lost. You would mend, eventually. He would be a jagged scar across your heart and soul. 

Astarion’s head snapped up, “No!” he said frantically, crawling a bit closer to you. You backed up a bit before stilling, he looked… guilty? “I… I am sorry… It’s still hard to talk about how I feel… and I am… anxious.” he forced out. 

“About?” you asked softly, straightening your back so you and Astarion were about an arms length away.

“I… worry. About us… after all this is over… about what life looks like. I’m… I’m afraid that if I cannot walk in the sun you will…” he stuttered out his response, fear was now his to host inside. 

“Leave?” you said with a look of surprise on your face. 

Astarion nodded, eyes flitting between yours. He looked vulnerable and subdued. 

“I will follow you anywhere. I would burn the world for you. I would slay the sun and bathe the world in darkness for you. Nothing can separate my soul from yours. I love you.” You said with confidence, and yet there was gentleness in it. 

Astarion’s eyes glossed over a bit. “I love you… it’s why I’m so scared… I don’t want to be alone again… I’m so sorry. ” he let out a sniffle. 

That was enough for you. You pulled him into a tight hug, “And you never will be, not if I have any say in the matter.”  

He hugged you back just as tight. “I love you. I love your touch. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you.” he mumbled into the crook of your neck. 

You shushed him and kissed his cheek, pulling back to look at him. “I am yours. You are mine. From this day until my last day. The sun has no bearing on the matter.” you whispered on his lips. He nipped your lip before kissing you hungrily.

“Good…” he said in between kisses, “selfless as I am, I’m not ready to let you go.”

You giggled as he kissed over your face, his hands wandering as far as you’d allow. You drank him in, both of your worries devoured by your equal, undying love for one another.

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Naboo's Note:

Hello!!! Another little fic that popped into my head today. Work is exhausting and its only Monday :') ughhhhhhh...... might have to wait a bit to get another fic out but I hope you guy's like this one! As always - thank you for all the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests! Stay safe out there ya'll - ILYSM <3 xoxoxoxoxo

[jaywonjuice]

📄🖇️ — bf!jake making sure you eat; taking care of you

pairing bf!jake x gn reader

genre non idol/student au, angst, fluff, drabble

requests: [here] & [here]; prompt #2 comforting you when you’re crying; #18 them making sure you eat.

WARNING tw! disordered eating!! we do NOT romanticise EDs over here please n thank you but pls pls pls skip on this one if you think you might find it triggering <3; sfw intimacy, kissing

wc 595

as you surveyed the sea of notes and past papers that were spread out in front of you over your unmade bed, your heart sank in your chest.

still so far to go.

rubbing your temples in a bid to ease your rising headache, there came a knock at your dorm door.

‘come in,’ your voice trembled a little involuntarily.

you watched as jake let himself in, closing the door gently behind him before turning to face you.

god he was a sight for sore eyes.

he looked like a dream just stood there in front of you in his sweatshirt and jeans, hair a dark ruffled mess, his eyes… full of concern.

you watched as he took in your appearance; you had dark circles under your eyes, your face was grey. you’d done your best to hide your weak frame in one of his oversized hoodies, but by the look on his face you could tell it hadn’t worked.

‘baby, i’m worried about you,’ he said softly. ‘your flatmates say you’ve hardly left your room all week,’ he pushed some papers aside and sat down next to you on the bed. as you looked up at him to meet his gaze, you could just feel how tired your eyes must look to him right now. you thought you might cry when you saw his face so full of worry as he watched you, soft brown eyes not leaving your face for even a moment.

‘you’re not eating again, aren’t you?’

the question fell over you like a wave; you hadn’t prepared yourself for him to be so straightforward with you. all of a sudden you couldn’t hold it in any longer, and hot tears came rushing down your cheeks. alarmed, jake pulled you into him and wrapped his arms round you tightly. as you buried you face into his chest, breathing in his comforting scent, wracking sobs took over your entire body.

‘shhh, oh baby,’ jake’s voice a near whisper as he kissed the top of your head. ‘please tell me what’s wrong?’

‘i’m sorry,’ you sobbed quietly, your entire body still shaking. ‘i’m really sorry i- i’ve been so stressed. i’m just so stressed all the time what with finals coming up and when i’m stressed i get this knot in my stomach, it makes me feel sick, and i- i just can’t.’

jake stroked your hair gently as he held you to him. ‘it’s okay baby, you’re gonna be just fine,’ he paused, thinking. ‘but you gotta eat.’

‘i know,’ your voice came small, barely audible. slightly calmer now, you pulled away a little and met his eyes. ‘i know, jake.’

he reached out a hand to stroke your cheek lightly. ‘okay here’s what’s going to happen,’ he said decisively. ‘i’m gonna go make us some pasta, and we’re gonna watch a movie, okay angel? all of this can wait til tomorrow. you need a break,’ he leaned in, bringing his lips to yours in the gentlest kiss. relief flooded over you as you kissed him back softly, feeling the tension within you melting away.

‘thank you,’ you whispered.

he nodded with a small smile, and started gathering all the papers up from the bed, placing them in a neat pile on your desk. ‘i’m going to be here to take care of you, but you gotta start taking care of yourself, too.’ he leaned down and placed a firm kiss on the top of your head. you smiled gratefully.

‘i really love you jake,’ you whispered.

‘i love you so much, angel,’ he replied.

a/n i’m so so thankful for this request, tysm to both anons who asked for jake with these prompts! i honestly think that jake would be the most caring boyfriend so this just suits him so well. pls remember to always take care of yourself (you know jake would want you to ♡).

TAGLIST ೃ⁀➷ @thejakeslayla

©jaywonjuice | do not copy or re-upload my work on any platform

[vase-of-lilies]

Shh...Just Kiss Me...

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Enhanced!Reader (f)

Warnings: Soft smut, fingering, morning sex, thigh riding, grinding, nudity, boobiesssss, fingering, snuggling, kissing, orgasms, some self-doubt, ranting, interrupting with a kiss lol, mommy kink, sexual intimacy

A/N: This is not a part of the series, only a little drabble for Phase 3 of "Levels of Intimacy." This falls under sexual intimacy. I felt like I needed a break from some of the darker stuff. I hope you like this addition to Levels of Intimacy! I will be working on this series a little more lately, now that I am in a slightly better headspace, but I will also be working on some of the Tiny Verse too, so don't worry!

"Baby, I can hear your mind screaming, whats going on?" Wanda whispers in your ear, her arm snaking around your belly and pulling you against her bare chest. You had woken up no more than five (5) minutes before you heard her voice, your mind silent for a short time. It was when one stupid thought pushed your brain to be racing with thoughts of self-doubt and self-hate. Wanda could feel it...

"Hm? Oh, nothing," You say, leaning back against your girlfriend's chest with a soft sigh, your lie not passing through her. You feel her lips smile against your neck, causing chills to cover your body.

"We both know you are lying sweet girl, now tell me what's going on?" Wanda says softly, assisting you in turning in her arms so you are now facing her. "You can tell me anything, you know," She smiles as she kisses your nose and then up to your forehead.

It was her reassurance that flipped the switch to the dam that held in your tears. Burying your face in Wanda's chest, you sob quietly against her skin. She sighs, her nails drawing soft circles and shapes on your back as she holds you close. The sensations were relaxing, but being in her arms felt even better.

As Wanda listened to your struggles of the week, she really listened. She gave advice when you asked and bit her tongue when you mentioned that one pesky professor. But when your words turned to self-hatred and self-doubt, she cups your cheek and turns your face towards hers. You keep talking, only looking at your girlfriend head-on.

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks as you continued talking, seconds passing before you noticed Wanda's concerned look.

"Wh-whats wrong?" You sniffle, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "I-I'm sorry if I said t-too much, I just need to stop talking. God why do I tal-" Your rant is cut off by soft lips against your own. The kiss takes you by surprise, but it helps you relax further into Wanda's arms.

"Shh, дорогой (sweetheart)..." Wanda whispers against your lips, cupping your cheek. Her intent was to mute the thoughts trailing in your head and by your reaction, she succeeded. You don't protest, staying silent as Wanda takes care of you. "Just kiss me..." She whispers against your lips again.

Her hand trails from your cheek, to the back of your head, and down to the nape of your neck. She pulls your head closer to her, sucking in every ounce of love you'll give her. Your lips and hers mold together in a kiss that could end anyone's racing mind. And god, did it put yours to rest.

To deepen the kiss, she rolls over and pulls you on top of her, your legs straddling her waist. "Such a good girl, малышка (little one)," A smile spreads across your lips and you can't help but giggle at how much you love Wanda. Staring at her from above, even after just waking up, her beauty was stupefying. All you could do was ogle at her.

Wanda tilts her head, a half smile on her face. "What are you thinking, принцесса (princess)? What is going through that beautiful mind of yours?" You wait before you answer, shaking your head while biting your lip.

"I just love you, and I don't know what I would do without you," Your eyes sparkle in the dim light of the morning sun, Wandas doing the same. "That's all," You smile down at her.

Wanda sits up so her back is against the headboard with you sitting perfectly in her lap. Your chest meets hers as you wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her into a hug. She hides her head in the crook of your neck and kisses your skin softly, moving up to your jaw and back to your lips.

"My beautiful girl, so sweet and just for me," Wanda loved to shower you with words of affirmation and you absolutely loved it. Every single word that she said about you made the butterflies in your belly flutter every time. "Mmm, move your hips, baby, just like that..."

With Wanda's hands now on your sides, she guides you to move your pussy against her thigh. A moan leaves your lips as you lean forward against her chest, whimpering as her left-hand moves from your waist to your breast, rubbing your nipple like a little ball of clay. All of these sensations pull together a sense of euphoria, and you can't help but arch your back in response.

She helps you move faster, your aching clit rubbing perfectly against her skin. "There you go, baby, good girl..." She whispers in your ear, her lips planting open-mouth kisses to your neck. The room fills with the aroma of sex, and sweat starts to form on your body. Your moans got louder, and at this point, Wanda knew that you were close to your orgasm.

"That's it, зайка (precious), I know you're close, just let go," She looks up at you, your face contorting to an expression of pleasure. A face that Wanda can't get enough of. Her arms move around your back, holding you against her body while you came, a whimper of satisfaction and orgasmic relief muffled in against Wanda's neck.

"Good girl, good girl cumming for mommy..."

As she continues to hold you, she pulls your right leg from between hers and has you wrap your legs around her waist. You were in just the perfect position for Wanda, you pussy wide open and wet. "How about one more, sweet girl?" She asks, her hand dipping between your legs and her fingers moving lazily around your clit.

A moan is all she gets for an answer, and that is really all she needs. Gently, two fingers prod at your tight hole, Wanda's thumb continuing to rub your clit in hopes of relaxing you. "It's ok, sweetheart, let mommy in. Let her take away all those pesky thoughts." Your body obeyed her, allowing your walls to loosen just enough for her fingers to slide all the way in, the knuckles of the two barely peeking from outside of your hole.

"Look at you, taking my fingers. It's like you were made for me darling," Her words sparked so much joy inside of you, and you smile against her shoulder as your sensitive pussy is played with. Her thumb continues to roll around your clit, her fingers pumping in and out.

Startled by the sudden movement, you yelp in pleasure as Wanda's hand turns, a third finger poking your entrance while her palm grinds against your button. Your soft, wet walls pulse around her digits as she moves them faster, your own fingernails dragging against the skin of her back.

"M'gonna cum again, mommy, o-oh please," You beg in her ear, your second orgasm coming closer by the second. The moans that leave your mouth get higher, faster, and louder as you cum for a second time, your mind going blank as your body shakes in Wanda's arms.

Slowing down, she helps you ride out your orgasm, smiling as you fall limp against her. She kisses your slightly damp forehead and tickles your back softly.

"How do you feel, sweetheart?" She asks, and you let out a quiet chuckle.

"Much better," You mumble, smiling as Wanda lays back down, you still comfy on her chest.

"Get some more rest, sweetheart," She pauses and gently lifts your head up. Pressing a kiss to your lips, you see her smirk. "I'm craving breakfast in bed, and I know I'll be starving..."

The two of you share much-needed laughter and love, allowing the vulnerability of being with each other.

[hanjsquokka]

lee know × fem!reader , fluff , angst , comfort , non-sexual nudity , 0.7K words

this is all over the place but i wrote this when i was feeling down and it just screamed minho for me. also i recommended listening to those eyes by new west. i immediately thought of minho when i heard that. maybe i might write a fic based on it, but for now have this comfy drabble <3

sometimes, it felt like the world was out to get you. like it was just showing you reasons for why you weren't supposed to be there. maybe to other people, a simple act of mistakenly ignoring a hello was nothing. but when a cascade of tiny things happened like this, it was enough to put a dent in your armor.

maybe you were overreacting when minho didn't kiss you goodbye that morning like he always did. but you couldn't help but let your thoughts spiral into chaos. was he mad at you for something? you racked your brain but you couldn't come up with a single incident that could've caused him to get upset.

his cats sprung off of you when you tried to put them in your lap.

why was the whole world against you?

the coffee shop you went to gave you the completely wrong drink and you were too disheartened to correct it.

work was tedious and by the time you came home, you felt so beaten down, so through with everything, you didn't even notice your boyfriend in the living room, idly scrolling through his phone. his call for you went through one ear and came out the other.

you went for the bathroom and turned the tap on, entering the pool of warm water after taking off your clothes. knees pulled to your chest, you hoped the running water would drown out your sobs.

unfortunately, minho had the ears of a cat — maybe he picked it up after having his three cats for so long. he hesitated in front of the door, hearing your sobs made his heart break. was there something he missed? he nudged the wood open, stepping inside slowly and once again calling your name out.

“hey…” he crossed over to the bathtub and sat on the edge, “what's wrong?” he placed a hand over your head, stroking the damp hair.

you sniffled and paused your sobs long enough to speak. “do you hate me?”

he froze. he was baffled. shocked. “of course not… why would you think that?”

your ears turned red, he could see that much as you hid your face in your knees. you mumbled something but he could only hear incoherent babbles. “you didn't leave in the morning like you usually do.”

he was confused. his mind rewinded to that morning. chan had texted to come early for practice, so he rushed and —

a light bulb went off in his head, followed by a teasing smile. “ah, i forgot to kiss you goodbye?” your flushed face only gave it away. he chuckled, stepping into the tub with his clothes, not caring if they got wet. to your weak protest, he only said, “i've seen you like this plenty of times. there's nothing more to hide,” to which you whined. sitting in front of you, he uncovered your face and cupped your jaw. a smile was plastered over his face. a rare, beautiful smile that made his big eyes sparkle. a look he knew you'd never be able to deny. “let me make up for that.” he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, relishing the taste of you for a few moments before pulling away. “now tell me what's wrong princess.”

an hour later, the two of you were tangled together in bed, the cats snuggled into the blankets. he stroked your hair, singing softly, arms wrapped around you protectively as if he was shielding you from the harsh world that was previously kicking you to the ground again and again.

“when you feel like the whole world is against you, remember that you have me, okay?” he said quietly, when he thought you were asleep, nestled into his side under the warm blankets when you were very much awake. those words were enough to soothe your wounds, a calming balm to all your aches. you didn't reply, letting silence fill the room until he began to sing softly again.

©hanjsquokka | copying, translating or republishing my work is strictly prohibited

[bro-atz]

good knight [bro's 500 — san]

[fake relationship/forbidden love, smut, royal!au, knight!san/princess!reader]

requested by: @k-hotchoisan + 🍪

word count: 4.7k

content: smut, a lot of sexual tension... like a lot a lot, UNPROTECTED SEX (PLS WRAP UP IRL), slight breeding kink, completely consensual!

author's note: both aubs and cookie anon had really similar ideas so i decided to combine them! also, i went way too hard w this piece... it's supposed to be a drabble idk what happened 😭 the things i do for san ig ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“San, you have to help me. Please,” you begged the knight.

You were standing with him in the Great Hall, not a single other soul around you. The knights had returned from their daily rounds, and San was getting ready to head back to his quarters when you stopped him. He was the only one in the entire castle that you could trust to help you with your vision, and you hoped that if you begged enough, he would follow through and help you out.

“Princess, what you’re asking of me is too much of an encumber. There’s no way I could fulfill such a thing,” San said quietly.

“San, you’re the only one who can do this for me. You need to do it.”

“What about—”

“I’ve already considered all of the other possibilities!” you interrupted him. “I thought everything through, and the only thing I can think of is for you to take me to this stupid ball and present yourself as my lover. Please, please, please San!”

“Your highness,” San sighed softly. “I can only do so much.”

“San, please… I don’t know what else to do, and if I tell my father that I don’t want to marry the prince, then he’ll never let me step foot outside of the castle until the day of the wedding. Plus! Plus, he trusts you so much, and I don’t know who else he would listen to that would also be able to help me, and I just—”

You covered your mouth when you felt tears well up in your eyes, stifling a sob. San immediately reacted by cupping your face and drying the tears from the corners of your eyes with the pads of his thumbs.

“Princess, don’t cry,” San said, his lips nearly pulling into a painful frown. “I’ll… I’ll talk to the king, okay?”

You nodded and mouthed a small thank you to the man before he turned on his heel to go talk to the king.

“I really don’t see the need for you to go, San,” the king said gruffly. “Your job is to protect the kingdom.”

“Isn’t the princess part of the kingdom?” San pointed out.

“Well, yes… But, still. I don’t see why you need to go.”

“Your highness, your daughter is a beautiful you lady, and if you send her to this ball all alone, lord knows what’ll happen to her,” San started, hoping that scaring the king would work as a tactic since you were counting on him, after all.

“The prince will be there! She’ll be fine.”

“Yes, but what about to and from the ball? The prince won’t be able to pick her up or drop her off, and I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t trust the other kingdom to protect her just yet.”

“Oh my… You’re right. Okay, I’m entrusting you with her, then. I want you to get her there and back safely, San.”

“Yes, your highness.”

With a wave of his hand, the king dismissed San. He returned to the Great Hall where you were standing and tapping your foot nervously while anxiously biting your nails. You looked at him with expectant eyes, and he responded to you with a quick nod. Relief washed over your body, and a smile bloomed on your face. San turned around and made his way back to his quarters in a hurry as your smile made his heart nearly swoon.

San’s heart did swoon when he saw your full outfit for the ball. You had a beautiful royal purple strapless lace ballgown on, rhinestones decorating your bust, waist, and hips. You smoothed out the dress and looked down at it before looking at San and asking quietly, “Do I look alright?”

“Princess, you look so beautiful,” San said with a tiny gasp. “You’re going to be the most beautiful woman at this ball.”

You smiled shyly at the man. You knew that he was just telling you that because you were the princess, but it was still nice to hear him say that. San held his hand out for you and assisted you as you got into the carriage before sitting alongside you.

The steady clicking of the horses hooves droned on in the background as the carriage made its way along the dirt path. The clicking was so steady, in fact, that it lulled you to sleep, your eyes growing heavier with each passing second. It was only when you fully fell asleep did you rest your head on the knight’s shoulder, slightly startling the man.

San couldn’t help but observe your features. You were so beautiful when awake, so he didn’t expect you to be such a graceful sleeper as well. Your long eyelashes were so perfectly curved that it took everything in the knight to not run a finger along them, and the way your rosy lips were slightly parted as you breathed softly drove him insane. Rather than squish you— you know, as one does with cute things— San settled for brushing your hair out of your face and kissing your forehead, only to immediately freeze.

Oh shit.

That was out of bounds. He should not have done that— he was merely a knight and you were the princess! How dare he make a move on your sleeping being? Shame consumed San’s body as he recoiled, his shoulder moving slightly, making your head nearly slip from your comfortable pillow. You let out a little whine and pushed yourself closer to San, threatening the man’s heart. He froze yet again and held his breath, wondering if you were awake for that moment when he kissed your forehead, but you weren’t. You were fast asleep.

At least you were asleep, San had to keep telling himself as the long journey to the other kingdom persisted. At least you were asleep.

“Okay, just stay right by my side, San,” you instructed San as soon as you got out of the carriage.

Thanks to your amazing nap in the carriage, you were on full, high alert from the moment you arrived in the other kingdom. You linked arms with San and let him escort you into the palace where the ball was completely underway. You only clung closer to the knight as you made your way through the halls and into the Grand Hall where dozens of princes and princesses were talking, drinking, laughing, and dancing.

“What’s the plan, princess?” San asked you in a hushed voice as the two of you stepped through the threshold.

“We need to find the prince—”

“Princess Y/N! I was beginning to wonder when you would arrive!” a voice said cheerily from behind you.

Startled, you jerked away from San and turned around to face the prince you were to wed, your heart pounding like crazy as you realized that you would have to lie to the prince well before you had time to prepare yourself.

“P-prince Yeosang!” you exclaimed while nearly biting your tongue.

“Oh, and I see you’ve brought a guest,” Yeosang’s voice flattened almost immediately upon seeing the knight by your side.

Sensing your fear, San reached for your hand and held it, his fingers lacing with yours. You would think that the action would calm you down, but it only made you more flustered. Mustering up the courage within you, you cleared your throat and said, “Yeah. Actually, I need to tell you something.”

Before you could continue, Yeosang held his hand up. He didn’t need to hear it since just seeing your hand in San’s was enough to explain the situation. “Does your father know?” Yeosang asked icily.

“Yes,” you lied straight through your teeth.

“Interesting… Alright, well, enjoy the ball. I’ll see you around some time, princess.”

With that, Yeosang returned to his guests at the ball, his arm immediately wrapping around the waist of another princess. You let out a huge sigh of relief and turned to look at the knight, your eyes sparkling brilliantly as you made eye contact.

“Thank you, San!” you whispered but cheered at the same time.

Rather than wait for a response from him, you threw your arms around him and hugged him to show your appreciation. San was completely taken aback, but after a few seconds, he accepted the hug, his own arms wrapping around your body. He could faintly smell the fragrance you had used earlier that day, and he so badly wanted to bury his nose in your hair and enjoy the smell properly, but he refrained.

Little did he know that you were in the same boat, but with him and his musk. San smelled so manly and so sexy, you felt like your insides were about to start a raging fire the longer you immersed yourself in his warmth and scent. Then, you realized you had been hugging the man for quite some time, so you let go and shuffled away slightly, a light blush appearing on your cheeks. Had you looked up, you would have seen that San’s face was extremely red, and you only looked up by the time it subdued.

“We, uh,” San cleared his throat and spoke softly. “We have some time to kill before we head back… What would you like to do, princess?”

“Well, I’m not going to say no to free food and drinks,” you murmured.

Letting out a light laugh, San nodded and said, “Of course. Right this way, your highness.”

Arm wrapped loosely around your waist, San accompanied you wherever you went. He made sure to stick close to you as the night progressed, one of his hands always on you at any given moment.

The two of you were standing and watching the couples waltz on the dance floor. San refused to drink— technically, he was on the job, so he had to remain sober— while you nursed your second drink of the night. You tore your eyes from the ballroom floor and looked at the attractive knight. You thought you were subtle, but he could feel your intense gaze on him as he continued to look at the dancers. Maybe you were drunk, he told himself the longer you stared. He thought you were drunk, but you definitely were not. What kind of princess would you be if you didn’t know how to control yourself and maintain your tolerance?

“San, you’re really attractive, you know that?” you murmured.

“Princess…”

You brought your hand to his face and traced your finger over his cheekbone, along his jaw, and on his lips. You stood the tiniest bit closer to him as you then placed a thumb on his lower lip and dragged it down slightly, your nail grazing the inside of his lip. San’s heart was racing faster than a horse, and his mind was slowly beginning to melt. You looked so fucking beautiful looking up at him with those doe eyes of yours, your slightly parted lips driving him insane once again. Before his mind could completely lose a grip on reality, San grabbed your wrist and moved your hand away from his face, your arm going limp and resting by your side.

“That’s highly inappropriate, princess,” San said roughly as he remembered his station.

“San, we need to look the part,” you insisted.

“We already showed the prince.”

“What about the castle staff?”

San blinked several times before leaning in and whispering into your ear, “You’re really playing with fire right now, princess.”

You turned your head, your lips so close to brushing past his, and whispered, “Would you rather dance with me instead, Knight San?”

Holding his breath, San moved away from you, trying desperately not to show how flustered he was by your actions. He gave you a tiny nod and held his hand out for you, your hand slipping into his perfectly. He led you to the dance floor and put his arm on your waist as you placed your hand on his shoulder.

You honestly didn’t expect San to be such a great dancer. He was a knight— his heavy armor and broad build should’ve made him super stiff. But no, he was fluid, graceful, light, and everything else a dancer is. He quite literally swept you off your feet the more you danced with him. You looked at his face as he whisked you side to side, around the other couples, and through the ballroom floor. Your heart was already fluttering the more you thought about his firm, rough hand on your waist, and it only got worse when his eyes met yours. In fact, your heart was beating so rapidly that you completely missed a step. You tripped over your own dress and nearly fell backwards, but San caught you in time, his arm wrapped securely around your waist.

When he pulled you up, he held you flush against his chest. Your eyes widened as you felt him hug you the slightest bit tighter.

“Are you okay?” San whispered.

“Y-yes… I think…. I need some air.”

Brushing past San, you went straight for the palace balcony, the cool breeze in the midnight sky snapping you out of your heart-fluttering trance. That only worked for about two seconds because your mind immediately drifted back to the way San was holding you when you nearly fell. You bit your lower lip and started pacing the balcony as you tried to calm yourself down, but the more you thought about it, the more heat pooled inside you. You felt like a goddamn animal in heat with the way you were thinking about Knight San, a man that you would never, not in your dizziest daydream, be allowed to wed, let alone sleep with.

“Princess?” you heard San call for you, his foot barely through the threshold.

You turned around to face him, and San immediately stopped breathing. You seemed to be turning in slow motion, your hair swaying with the wind, and your dress briefly flourishing before settling, giving you a more than majestic feel.

San approached you slowly at first, then quickly arrived by your side, one of his hands cupping your face while the other found your waist, and he kissed you deeply, passionately. He kissed you as if his life depended on it, like if the two of you weren’t connected, the entire palace would crumble to ashes.

“Yes, Knight San?”

It was only when you called his name did San realize that he was still standing right in front of the doorframe— he hadn’t moved an inch.

“W-we should leave soon, princess,” San managed out, his throat dry as he realized his deepest and darkest desire manifested itself into a dizzy daydream.

“Okay, let’s go.”’

The ride back from the ball was hellish. Both you and San were on edge the entire ride back— not that the two of you knew that the feelings between the two of you were mutual. You were staring out the window into nothingness as it was night time and the only things you could clearly see were the moon and the stars, and San was fixated on his balled up fists in his lap, trying to extinguish the fire burning within him.

It progressively got harder for both of you when the carriage arrived at your kingdom. San got down first, and he held his hand out for you to assist you out of the carriage. But, when your skin made contact with his, you felt like your hand was on fire— he felt the exact same way. You both shared intense eye contact that said way more than either of you were willing to relinquish, the tension in the air and in your chest palpable.

“G-good night, San,” you whispered, your heart clenching at the thought of parting with the man.

“Good night, princess,” San returned in the same register, the glimmer in his eyes fading slightly.

With that, the two of you retreated back to your respective rooms, and the second you entered the castle, thunder broke out, and it started raining heavily. You jumped upon hearing the boom, the sound nearly shaking the castle. Oh, how you hated rainstorms. Rain itself was fine, but thunder and lighting? Nuh uh. You had no idea how you were going to get yourself to sleep that night.

San, stripped down to his simple cotton clothing, laid awake in his bed not because of the storm, but because of you. He rested one of his arms across his stomach to try and release the tension building up in his nethers, his other one over his forehead trying to ease his mind. Yet, he couldn’t, because his mind kept flashing to you in your dress, making his pants tighter with every memory.

Luckily for him, it was when someone suddenly knocked on the door was he able to fully calm down. He quickly made his way to the door, and upon opening the door, there was another loud boom of thunder, making the person on the other side of the door jump into his arms— making you jump into his arms.

“P-p-princess!” San exclaimed in a hushed but surprised voice. “What’re you doing here?! You’re not supposed to be here!”

“I’m s-sorry, San. I just couldn’t sl-EEP—”

There was another clap of thunder, scaring you further into his arms. You buried your face in his chest and clung to his shoulders, using him as some sort of safety shield.

San didn’t know what to think of the situation. He knew that whatever the fuck was going on was way out of bounds for someone in his station. He knew that, but in the same breath, he didn’t want to let you go. He loved the way you fit perfectly into his embrace, the way your elegant nightgown swayed when you jumped further into his arms, your trembling arms and legs begging for someone to keep you safe, so on and so forth. Dare he say it, he was in love with you, but he definitely did not dare.

Hugging you securely, San completely closed and locked the door to his room before walking you to his bed and sitting you down alongside him. “Princess, don’t be scared,” he whispered as he pulled himself away from you and brushed your hair behind your ear.

Nodding, you willingly let go of him and placed your hands flat in your lap, your fingers still slightly trembling with fear. “Sorry, I just…” you started with a heavy sigh. “I couldn’t sleep because of the rain and… And because of other things…”

“What other things?” the knight inquired.

“…I meant what I said earlier, you know.”’

San didn’t have to ask about what you were referring to. He knew exactly what you were trying to say, and while he really wanted to accept your interest in him, he couldn’t. He shouldn’t. It was not proper of him to do so, and it would never be proper of him to do so.

You knew this as well, which is why you scooted closer to San and reached for his hand. Silently, with your eyes, you told him to not resist it and just let you touch him, hold his hand, lace your fingers with his.

“Princess, you know that this isn’t right,” San tried to fight his feelings and let reasoning win, but when you rubbed circles on the back of his hand with your thumb, he felt his feelings override logic and reasoning.

“I know,” you said with a sad whisper. “But, I… I don’t want to be with anyone else. I really like you. You’re sweet, considerate, loyal, handsome, and honest, and I don’t know if there are any other princes in this entire world that share your same qualities. You’re… Perfect.”

“Princess, I’m not perfect. You’re perfect,” San reversed your compliment and unlaced his fingers with yours to cup your face. “You’re the most perfect being, and I truly would do anything to be with you—”

“Then do it.”

“W-what?”

“Be with me. Kiss me,” you leaned into him, your hand pressing into his thigh as you neared him. “Sleep with me.”

“…Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Tentatively, San brought your face to his, his thumb rubbing against your ear as he kissed you softly. His hot touch on your cheek and ear only got hotter as his kisses deepened, his lips trapping yours over and over and over again. You held onto his shoulders as he brought you onto his lap, your ass rubbing against his slowly stiffening, shielded cock. He sighed blissfully in between kisses, little grunts and gasps leaving his lungs when you shifted against him just right.

And yet, while he kissed you so passionately, he was still so reserved. His tongue remained in his mouth, non-intrusive, dormant.

“San,” you breathed out as you pushed against him gently, trying to get him to listen to you. “Just let yourself go. Don’t be the self-restrained knight my father conditioned you to be. Be insatiable tonight.”

“I’m warning you— you won’t get a wink of sleep tonight then, princess,” San whispered back, his voice so low it could’ve turned into a growl.

“I’d rather you kept me up instead of the storm.”

With your blessing, San swiftly moved you so that you were laying on the bed while he hovered above you. He leaned down and kissed you once more, but this time, he did let go. His tongue pushed its way into your mouth and swirled with yours, and his hands grabbed the bottom of your nightgown and lifted it upwards, revealing the fact that you had nothing on underneath.

“You sleep without undergarments, princess?” San broke the kiss to ask you his question in shock.

“San, don’t call me princess… Call me by my name,” you told him, completely sidestepping his remark about your sleep habits.

With that sensual, low rumble of his, San uttered your name, and instantly, goosebumps covered your entire body. He sounded so incredibly sexy when he said your name like that, and it just made you want to latch onto him and never let go.

“Y/N, may I?” San asked as he slowly lowered himself, bringing his lips closer to the searing heat between your legs, his large hands gripping your thighs gently.

Hearing him asking for permission so politely while saying your name sent butterflies storming through your insides.

“May I?” San asked again, still waiting upon your response.

“Please.”

The second his tongue made contact with your folds, your fingers and toes curled into the sheets, a long pleasureful sigh leaving your lips. Your back arched as you felt his tongue press and prod into you, his hold on your thighs tightening the more he immersed himself in your wet cunt.

“Oh San… Oh! Mmm,” you did your best to keep your moans to a minimum, but the longer he spent down there, the tighter the knot in your belly became and the harder it became to suppress your noises.

You barely lasted the second San’s tongue circled around your clit and his finger entered and curled inside you. Your entire body shuddered, and you let out a little cry as you felt the tension within you snap.

“San,” you whimpered as you felt the pleasure gradually die down. “I want more…”

“As you wish,” San responded, a slight smirk on his face, turning you on all over again.

San pulled off your nightgown altogether before he slowly started undressing himself, giving you a little show as he did so. The rain was still coming down hard, and there was thunder and lightning in the distance, but you were so entranced by San that you forgot everything. However, you went from being enamored back to being fearful when he revealed the massive weapon he had been hiding under all of the armor, all of the layers. Of course, he was fully erect, so it couldn’t get any bigger than that, but it still made fear course through your veins.

“I’ll start slowly for you, and only when you feel comfortable will I go faster,” San murmured to you as he trapped your body between his arms and knees, easing a little bit of your fear.

His cock head rubbed against your sensitive clit, making you grip the sheets behind your head. Your clit was still throbbing and recovering from your orgasm just moments prior, so when you felt him rub against you like that, the pleasure just soared through you to the point that you came again, the walls of your cunt convulsing, your knees shaking.

“Alright,” you detected a hint of a chuckle behind San’s words. “I’m going to start.”

“H-hurry, San…” you whimpered, your voice trembling.

You knew San was going to be huge, and that it was going to be a tight fit, but knowing wasn’t enough. It felt like his cock was tearing you apart. You bit back a loud scream and reached for San’s arms, your nails clawing into his forearms. He was nearly balls deep inside you by the time he stopped moving, his waist pressed firmly against yours.

“You’re doing so well for me, Y/N,” San validated you with the softest yet sexiest voice you had ever heard. He leaned down and smoothed your hair back before leaving a light kiss on your lips. “So well.”

“San— Ngh!”

Your breathy moan turned into a little cry when San started moving again, his cock pulling out just as slowly as when he pushed it into you. Little dots of perspiration decorated his forehead and started rolling down the sides of his face as his gyrations started to speed up and became more and more intentional. You had to settle for biting your lower lip when San leaned back, thrusting faster and harder. His hands reached for your breasts, and he massaged them, rolling your hardening nipples in between his fingers, evoking the most erotic groans out of you.

“You’re making such lewd noises, Y/N.” San licked then bit his lower lip, his eyebrow raising slightly the more he listened to your melodic moans. “You like it that much?”

“Mmhmm— More— Ah! M-more,” you barely instructed.

The wood of the bed frame creaked as his fast, hard thrusts shifted the whole bed. His eyebrows were knitted together the more he focused on pleasuring you, sweat drops falling from his face and decorating your bare skin and the sheets below. He long foregone toying with your breasts and bent himself over you again, his body practically rolling into yours. His lips kept teasing you, brushing against yours but never fully kissing you, but when he brought them to your neck, his lips would press against your skin before biting lightly, playfully.

Then, he shifted up ever so slightly, his cock starting to rub against your G-spot and hit your cervix in every stroke. Sparks filled your vision as he kept going at the two spots over and over again. You reached for his shoulders and dug your nails into his skin harshly as you cried loudly, the rainstorm drowning out your screams.

San, feelings the walls convulse and tighten around his thick cock, felt pleasure surge through his system as well. He pulled out, but before he could cum, you shook your head and tugged his shoulders, bringing him down so his ear met your lips.

“Inside. Please.”

Shuddering, San quickly re-entered you and did as you requested, his hot load spurting into you uncontrollably. San let out the most toe-curling, pussy-clenching groan, making you thirst for the man once more. It certainly did not help when you felt his cum spill out of you when he pulled out.

When San looked down to see your red, quivering pussy dripping with his cum and your arousal fluid, he gulped and did his best to suppress his perverted desire to keep filling you up with his lineage. That lasted only several seconds because when you outstretched your arms and willed him to embrace you, you also kissed him with enough intensity to make him want to fuck you hard all over again.

“Be the reason I don’t sleep tonight, San.”

bro's 500 event | bro's 500 event masterlist

bro's 500 taglist: @eyeryis @sinnarols @nakiiko @haebaragisworld @hyukssunflower @aaasia111 @k-hotchoisan

network: @cromernet

apply for the taglist here!

[serverusslaype]

Special

just a random short angsty, sort of fluffy one-shot, Severus Snape x professor!reader

i just wrote this right now because im in an angsty sort of mood, and i wanted to post something. i miss you guys, and i am now currently writing part 14 to shameless!! woo!! that break did my brain well. i feel refreshed hehe. <3 thank you for giving me some tips on how to get rid of that godforsaken writer's block, good lord. i hated it. but i'm free now, until next time ;)

this is a drabble/one-shot so it's sort of vague-ish, so yeah, if there's any mistakes or anything i'm sorry. ;(

(i also didn't put the taglist since it isn't part of the shameless fic! just in case you wondered!)

warnings: mentions of cheating

"If it makes you stop crying," Snape began hesitantly as he stared at your tear-stained face, frowning with a scrunched nose of what seemed like disgust. "We can go back to my office, and I'll make you some tea." He said, shoulders rising and falling slowly as he sighed. Watching you be so sad and cry wasn't something Snape was fond of, and it was effecting him - more than he wanted to admit. He just hoped you'd accept his request of making you some tea, then perhaps he could figure out what was making you so upset, and punish the culprits. Snape had always had a little soft-spot for you ever since you'd joined Hogwarts as a professor a year or so ago. Usually he didn't feel such a way towards younger, new professors, however, your kind and sweet aura had him unexpectedly mesmerised the moment you'd introduced yourself to him. The Potions Master wasn't exactly sure why he felt this way towards you so soon, but he knew it couldn't be good - the last time he felt something like this was back when he was a child.

You looked up, still sobbing quietly, managing to slip a confused frown upon your face. "Tea?" You repeated quietly with a sniffle, pausing for a moment to ponder on Snape's offer. "...Tea would be nice."

You hadn't expected to bump into your usually gloomy, rude colleague whilst having what you thought was going to be a private breakdown after learning that your partner had cheated on you with your best friend. Almost two years down the drain, just like that. Snape had accidentally walked in on you hunched over your desk, crying hopelessly. He was about to walk away when you'd heard a deep sigh, startling you. And here you were. Being offered tea by him.

"Let's go then." Snape said with a flat tone, looking away from your sad eyes, unable to withstand the pain that was gathering in his chest.

You were at least two or three cups of tea down when you'd finally explained everything to Snape. From the start of your relationship to the unexpected demise. It dug up old, painful memories, and you were crying again.

"What's wrong with me?" You sobbed, taking another sip of the tea that Snape had made you; hot tears soaking your cheeks and dripping into the cup. Another deep, frustrated sigh slipped from Snape again as he watched you from his desk with a sad frown upon his pale features. "I don't get it," you sniffled, gripping the handle of the tea cup with white knuckles, "did I do something wrong?"

No, you couldn't do anything wrong, Snape wanted to say. He wanted to tell you how wrong you were, and how perfectly good you truly were. But he knew you wouldn't listen, and so he kept quiet, only muttering in disagreement.

"I doubt that, Y/N." Snape mumbled, though you didn't give him much time to say anything else before you stumbled into a self-deprecating rant.

"Maybe I wasn't worth it, I mean, it's not like I'm anything... special," you laughed dryly, avoiding Snape's cold eyes, "maybe I'm just the girl that everyone dates before they find their true love. I'm the girl that they use to find the one, I don't have any good qualities, I'm a pushover, and-"

Snape inhaled sharply, "Stop it, Y/N!" He bellowed, slamming a hand down on the desk that the two of you were sat at. Instantly, you went silent, your mouth hanging open in shock as your heartbeat suddenly sped into an incredibly fast pace. You glanced up at Snape with wet and wide eyes, startled by his unusual outburst.

"Severus-"

"No, Y/N," he held up a hand, silencing you, "you're wrong about yourself. You are special." Snape sighed, moving his hand to massage his temples. You couldn't believe what was coming out of this man's mouth. "You're more than enough. Your ex was clearly a fool to do such a thing to you. In fact, I can't fathom why they would choose your friend over you." Snape said with a stern tone, clearly distressed. Your mouth still hung open as you stared at him, flabbergasted. "You're kind, sweet, considerate, and your heart is twice the size than it should be."

"I..." You uttered quietly, staring at Snape, evidently speechless. He shut his eyes momentarily, suddenly realising what he'd just said. Yet another deep sigh slipped from his heaving chest, rendering you silent.

"You..." Snape stumbled, avoiding your eyes. There was no way he could look at you right now. He'd just opened the floodgates on what he truly thought of you. He probably looks like a right blithering idiot.

The room went quiet, and the two of you sat there in what felt like a somewhat-comfortable silence, taking the moment to acknowledge what had just happened.

You stared at the man opposite you, a sudden and unusual warmth blooming in your chest. For the first time since you'd met him, you took the opportunity to truly look at him. Snape's black eyes glittered in the low, soft amber light from his candles as he reluctantly glanced up at you, pressing his lips into an awkward thin and flat line. His shoulders rose a tad, tensing as he inhaled, and he shifted his gaze to the desk again. Clearly, he was unsure on how to navigate this current moment.

A tiny smile picked at the corners of your lips as you looked at him. "Thank you." You whispered, glancing down at his splayed out hands. Taking a chance, you reached out your own hand and placed it atop of one of his, feeling it flinch. Snape's eyes darted up to yours, and he returned your smile, though it seemed a little awkward.

Snape didn't say anything to you, he only nodded gently before pulling his hand back to himself after a few long moments, clearing his throat.

"Well, since you've stopped crying," he began, sitting up straight in his chair, "we can assume I've done a good job." A little chuckle escaped you, and it caused a loose, genuine smile to erupt on Snape's face. You noticed it, but chose not to say anything, instead silently admiring how well it suited him.

"Now I know who to come to when I'm sad." You joked lightly, and as quickly as the smile had arrived on his lips, it disappeared. You laughed, feeling a tad lighter. Though the awful situation still sat within you like a dead weight, waiting to be dealt with, it felt good to smile and laugh, especially with a man you thought to be devoid of such emotions.

"I don't think-"

"Thanks, Severus." You cut him off with a bright smile, making his heart flutter. Perhaps he would wander past your classroom a little more often than before.

Masterpost

[ghcstao3]

reunion drabble based on this

-

Johnny shouldn’t be awake at this hour, but he is anyway, and that’s about the only reason he ever hears the knocking at his flat’s door.

He decides to ignore it initially, playing it up to his imagination as he plucks away at his thesis, just as he has been for the past several months, but then it happens again—sharp, abrupt, loud. Without a doubt someone is wanting his attention.

It's irritation that reaches him first, rather than some mild form of fear. Johnny takes his time getting up from his desk, stretching with a low groan and shaking the pins and needles from his foot. He figures whoever it is would be willing to wait—they must be, being that they're so inclined to disturb him at such an ungodly hour.

His slippered footsteps drag as he moves toward the door, his near-chronic exhaustion weighing heavy on his eyelids.

There's a third knock just as he reaches his destination. It sounds more desperate than the last.

Johnny turns the lock and swings open the door.

And suddenly he's more awake than he's ever been.

"Simon?"

Except it isn't him, not really. Sure, his face is the same, give or take a few new scars. And sure, those are the shoulders Johnny had watched him grow into, and sure, that's the ugly tattoo that they both hate on his forearm—but it's not Simon.

His eyes were never that hollow.

For a moment, as Simon remains stock-still in his doorway, Johnny starts to think everything currently is just a figment of his imagination. That he's worked another too-late night and has just fallen into a grief-induced dream in the hopes of having Simon back any way that he can.

But then Simon speaks, and he sounds like his vocal cords have been torn to shreds, and Johnny doesn't think he'd ever imagine something quite so awful.

"I'm sorry," Simon rasps. "I didn't—I—"

Johnny wants to push this imposter away. He wants to pull him into the flat and never let go.

Instead all he does is stand there just as uselessly, shoulders slumped as a pooling sadness bubbles up into nothing more than a second, pitiable, "Simon."

And like that, the dam breaks. Something snaps, and with the silent tears that trail down Simon's sunken cheeks, there's a glimpse of him that returns. There's a glance of something Johnny recognizes just in time for Simon to come crashing forward into him, quietly crying into his shoulder and clinging onto his shirt like a lifeline.

It's second nature, to hold Simon in his arms. Even as conflicted as Johnny feels.

He coaxes Simon inside, gently kicking the door shut as he leads the man to the living space, their contact kept unbroken. It's become much less a home in Simon's absence, nothing more than a place to house Johnny in a city that felt so lonely without Simon.

And even then. Some nights had been too difficult to even manage that.

Johnny brings them to the couch, where Simon easily curls into him like he has so many times before, both in sorrow and otherwise. His head ends up in Johnny's lap, Johnny merely able to pet hair that's been shorn too short to card fingers through as he normally had. He lets Simon sob into his stomach, unable to offer anything more than soft hushes and words of reassurance.

The crying gradually slows as Simon eventually falls asleep, fists balled around the hem of Johnny's shirt.

He doesn't mind. He sort of just feels... numb.

Johnny thinks he should be feeling something—maybe relief, or hell, even joy—but he really doesn't feel much of anything at the moment. He's not sure what he could feel.

But as he continues to absentmindedly scratch his nails against Simon's scalp, he supposes it doesn't really matter here and now. He supposes it won't matter for another few hours, not until Simon has woken up to a better state of mind.

They'll have plenty to talk about—if this really is his Simon. Is still his Simon. And Johnny doesn't know if he looks forward to that.

He just hopes that for once, after this past miserable year, something could finally turn out okay.

[merotwst]

EVEN WHEN THE LEARNING'S DONE AND NOTHING'S NEW !

‹ . housewardens ›

· scenario drabbles

⇝moments that happened in your married life.

[ n: a little something to get myself out of a writers block. not proofread and not very confident of my writing bcs ahaha i havent written in a hot minute + no motivation. this took me almost a week to finish but i still hope u guys enjoy ! ilyyyy ]

⑇

- - - → tw. children (does that count as a tw?????? idk man kids jumpscare in kalim's part)

⑇

riddle rosehearts ‹ heartslabyul ›

it wasn't rare for riddle to be working so late. he was a busy man and lived up to his parents' legacy of being the best of the best. you were aware of this when you said yes to his proposal to spend a life with him forever but as his spouse, it pains you to see him overwork himself sometimes. it wasn't the first time you woke from your quiet slumber at 2 in the morning to an empty space beside you. your feet padded across the cold marble floor through the hallway adorned with photographs gilded in gold of you and him that have been taken over the years. a soft knock at the mahogany doors to his study and a quiet response from the other side permitting you to come in. the tea on the tray you carried made riddle sigh with relief, the tension in his body seemingly fading away. he had a soft smile on his face as he brought the teacup to his lips.

“come to bed, riddle. it's so late.” you urge him gently as you made yourself comfortable on one of the chair on the other side of his desk.

he gave you weary look, “i'm not sure i can yet, my love. there's still so much work to do.”

you let out a soft sigh, “i figured as much.” you whispered, standing up and walking around the desk to give him a soft kiss on the lips, “i'll be heading back to sleep then.” you inform him and quietly made your way back to the room.

it wasn't rare for riddle to be working so late. he was a busy man who lived up to his parents' legacy of being the best of the best. it was rare, however, for him to softly close the bedroom door behind him leaving his study and his paperwork unfinished to slip under the covers and wrap his arms around your form.

“what made you change your mind?” you asked, a loving hand on his cheek.

“you did,” he said with a sheepish smile on his face, “you always do.”

⑇

leona kingscholar ‹ savanaclaw ›

when you choose to accept a prince's request for your hand hand marriage, you're not only accepting him as a person, you're also accepting the responsibility that comes with becoming royalty. since the day you and leona exchanged your vows, for better or for worse and till death do you part, the title of royal has been embedded onto your name and cemented into sunset savannah's history for all eternity. what you do and say will be seen, heard and talked about by the public. it's your duty to be present, not just for your husband the royal family, but for yourself as well.

so you do your part. you attend the balls, you speak out on important issues that need attention. you smile, you wave, conversing with other country's political leaders and powerful people. you learn to adapt and navigate through the life of a royalty one step at a time. you were doing your best but sometimes it felt like it wasn't enough. and that's when he comes in to yank an ipad out of your hands and snap you out of your trance. he says dwelling on ridiculous articles and getting yourself all affected negatively by it doesn't do anyone any good. that's when he wipes the frustrated hot tears from your cheeks as he sits beside you on the bed, a softer tone now etched in his tone when he spoke, “i know it isn't easy.”

you sniffle in response, your voice shaky as you spoke in uneven breaths, “i'm trying so hard,” a sob, “why does it always feel like i'm always running short? why am i sometimes being treated like i don't know what's happening?”

leona's tail flicks, “did the articles tell you that? or was it the servants whispering in the halls? the people in the ballrooms?” he places a hand on your chin and gently makes you look at him, “listen, i don't know what you overheard or read—but the fact that you undermine your own achievements for the validation of other people is annoying the shit out of me.”

his eyes bore into you as his hands squeezed yours, “you're not royalty from birth, but the amount of things you were willing to change—willing to do just so you can be with me still constantly leaves me in awe. the politics, the royal etiquette and other pointless bullshit takes years to master. you're almost halfway through the progress bar despite being so new to it all.” leona places his forehead against yours, “even if the whole world is against you, i'll be by your side. i've never been more proud to have you as my partner. fuck everyone else.”

when you choose to accept a prince's request for your hand hand marriage, you're not only accepting him as a person, you're also accepting the responsibility that comes with becoming royalty. since the day you and leona exchanged your vows, for better or for worse. you've done all of this just for him. you would keep doing it just for him because know he'd kidnap every star in he sky if you asked him to. you can cry, you can scream, you can be angry—but he's always there and always will be and till death do you part.

you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding in the entire time. and with a raspy voice and a genuine smile, you whisper back.

“fuck everyone else.”

⑇

azul ashengrotto ‹ octavinelle ›

homesickness is something you've dealt with the first time you were practically punted over to this twisted world you now reside in. but over time, you realize that this world was always more comfortable for you. it became home whenever you were in the arms of your lover. you found comfort in azul's arms so gentle and tender around you—as if you were the rarest and most fragile seashell he picked up from the depths of his home in the sea. eventually, you stopped thinking of the life you've left behind. you were happy here and that's what mattered.

likewise, he found his home in your arms around his neck in a warm embrace like the first rays of the sun just as the winter season was coming to an end. but unlike you, azul had access to his home. he just never had much opportunity to come back to visit. his life with you on land was what you both collectively decided on. a house near the beach, but nowhere near where his home is at. just enough to breathe in the salt air and the cool embrace of the ocean breeze on his skin. and on more than one occasion, you've seen him let the waves wash over his feet after he'd come back from work. his shoes in his hands as he mindlessly watched the sun set over the horizon.

“a penny for your thoughts?” your hand subconsciously finding its way to his, fingers interlocking together and fitting together perfectly.

“just thinking of the coral sea.”

“i've told you last time we should go to visit again.”

azul let out a sigh and you knew why he didn't like going back to the coral sea—to several memories of his past littered across every corner of the place. he looked at you wearily, the dimming orange beams of the sun coated his face with a lovely hue that made him look almost ethereal and melancholic.

“it's hard going back there sometimes,” he admitted, his head hung, “it took a lot for me to take you back there... to show you everything i've been running away from.”

“and i love every part of it. every part of you, azul.”

you squeeze his hand gently, “it's never always sunshine and calm seas. and i'm always here to embrace you when storms come.”

homesickness is something azul's never really dealt with in the years he's been away from sea. he was happy to be out of there and start anew—but he didn't have a home. no, he was always relying on himself. but over time, he realized that this world was always more comfortable with you. it became home whenever he was your arms, his lover. you were his new home. and no matter where he would end up, he always finds himself running home to you.

⑇

kalim al-asim ‹ scarabia ›

“baba's here!” was exclaimed by an energetic boy popping out from the blanket fort you all built together. giggles bounced around the walls as little pairs of feet padded along the floor. the children both ran to their father, the younger one trying her best not to trip and fall on her way there. kalim, who was still in conversation with jamil as he entered the room, had been cut off by the squeals and giggles of the children running to his embrace.

“ya malayiki! 'abi saeid jidana liruyatik maratan 'ukhraa!” (oh, my angels! dad's so happy to see you again!) your husband exclaimed excitedly, wasting no time kneeling to catch their warm embraces in full, “have you two been good?” he asked, lifting your daughter up in his arms earning an excited giggle from her and taking your son's hand in his free one before standing back up, “naeam ya 'baba!” (yes daddy!), your little girl giggled excitedly, “we built a house!” she squealed, pointing at the blanket fort. it was quite a big fort filled with small fairy lights and plenty of pillows and maybe a few snacks littered here and there from their 'construction break'. you three had spent hours making ‘the biggest house for baba’ for when he would get back and the kids are evidently very proud of the outcome of their hard work.

“(maman/baba etc.) said we could sleep here tonight!” the little boy chimed in, shaking his dad's hand to catch his attention. kalim could only grin widely at this, “well,” he started, “since you both worked so hard building the house, i say we all sleep here tonight!” the gasps from the kids and the happy cheers that followed indicated the joy they felt. he's always been a natural with them and you always adored him with children. it's just that he can get quite busy sometimes, which even he has told you about how saddened he is whenever he's apart from his family. and so whenever he has time, you can be sure every second is devoted to you and the kids. his whole heart is with you, after all. always has been since the moment he laid eyes on you all those years ago.

“alright kids,” he said, placing a kiss on your daughter's cheek and squeezing your son's hand gently, “jamil will take you to get you cleaned and ready for bed, okay?” they both grinned in response, “okay!” the kids said simultaneously.

“kalim.” jamil gave a disapproving look, “how many times must i tell you that this is the nanny's job and not mine.” he said in an annoyed tone while simultaneously taking the little girl in his arms and holding onto the boy's hand. this is when you come in from behind, wrapping your arms around your husband's waist, “aw, but they like you, jamil. don't you, kids?”

“i love uncle jamil!” the younger one giggled, “he's one of the funny grown ups.”

jamil let out a defeated sigh, “come on, children. let's get you both cleaned up.” he said, softly shaking his head and if you looked close enough you could see the soft smile on his lips as they walked away.

as soon as the silly questions of, ‘when will you get married’ and ‘can i pet your parrot, uncle?’ faded off into the distance, kalim wasted no time peppering every inch of your face in kisses and tackling you to the blanket fort as both of you giggled and laughed like middle schoolers rolling over the soft silky fabric under your skin. safe to say no matter how old you get, the love you and your husband share will forever remain the same as when it first blossomed from years ago.

⑇

vil schoenheit ‹ pomefiore ›

vil liked to keep things organized. he liked to keep a schedule he strictly follows like the skincare routine every night or the color patterns of what fashions he'd decide to wear that day. it's the same as when you were both courting. he had a routine to follow whenever you would see each other on a date. flowers, then he'd check if you dressed right, take you out and give you the best night of your life.

and you know how people say ‘change is good’? well, there are also some things that stay the same over the years. and that was good for you, too. like how he'd book the best restaurant in the city or take you out for a romantic cruise on your wedding anniversary. those nights were always perfect. and at the end of those nights is the same as well. paparazzi flashing their cameras at your face asking the most ridiculous questions. people getting in your business. that was the down side of your relationship with vil, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle. you knew what you were getting into the day you married him.

but oh sevens. when will they give you a break? it's your wedding anniversary with vil again tonight and he had a whole evening planned out for you. but there was a swarm of paparazzi outside the penthouse you were staying in. your husband had an upcoming movie and that had everyone abuzz and trying to get some statements out of him. there were so many to the point where you both had to go back inside because you could see the camera flashes with your eyes closed. well, you could. vil was used to it. but he wasn't about to force you to run out there with him again. your perfect night hasn't started yet and you already looked exhausted from that temporary encounter. vil silently cursed them for that.

after maybe 30 minutes of waiting for them to leave and with no luck of it ever happening, the blonde stood up from his spot on the couch, “that's it,” he spoke with a tone of finality in his voice, “get changed, darling. we're leaving.”

the confusion was evident in your face and it only made sense when vil came out wearing a hoodie, jeans and mask over his face. he hated wearing such common looking clothes, but sometimes situations call for it. and for you, frankly, he would do almost anything.

vil liked to keep things organized. he liked to keep a schedule he strictly follows like the skincare routine every night or the color patterns of what fashions he'd decide to wear that day. he absolutely hated when his plans wouldn't pull through but sometimes he finds serendipity in even the most dreary situations with you. you could spend your anniversary on a special yacht with the best waiters serving you first class meals and a candlelit dinner or just in a parking lot inside your car with cheap wine that you both agreed tasted awful but kept drinking anyway and at the end of the day, everything still works out. as long as you're by his side, he can learn to be contented even with all the disorganization of ruined plans as long as he's laughing to trashy radio podcasts and temporarily (today's a special exception, he says) ruining his diet for you.

⑇

idia shroud ‹ ignihyde ›

your husband, your favorite person, best friend, the only one you love enough to spend the rest of your life with... can sometimes be a little irritating. you know idia better than most people around you. he wasn't exactly the easiest person to get to know because of his very reserved personality but he is one of the smartest and funniest people you know. and you'd hoped that since he is one of the smartest people you know and you're actually married to him, he'd lend a hand when you're trying to do a little bit of spring cleaning to at least make the house look like it's a habitable place and not just a reserve for an endless supply of red bull and monster energy drinks. though the house wasn't necessarily ‘messy’, but it always seemed pretty empty and lacking a bit of life to it. so you thought of doing a bit of rearranging, putting up new decorations and replacing a couple furnitures which you both had bought and majority picked out by him.

this has been the third time you'd checked in his office and your patience was growing thin. you watched him from the doorway as he typed away some sort of code in his computer which was the only light source in the room. you crossed your arms as you called out his name, “idia shroud.” before flicking the light switch on making him hiss at the sudden brightness. he flinched upon seeing you. uh-oh. you used his full name, this can't be good.

“i've been calling you down to help me assemble the table. i'm not good at building things!”

“and i told you i'd be there in a bit. i'm just finishing things up around here.”

“idia.”

“okay! fine. jeez you don't have to threaten me.” he threw his hands up in the air in defeat as he stood up from his chair, “you're lucky i love you.”

you cocked a brow at this comment, arms still crossed across your chest and he rolled his eyes, “fine. other way around, i know. i'm lucky you love me.” he sighed but this time with a smile on his face as he leaned in to plant a kiss on your forehead, “now where is that table you need me to build?”

your husband, your favorite person, best friend, the only one you love enough to spend the rest of your life with... can sometimes be a little irritating. but you know idia better than most people around you. and he sometimes would seem detached and spends most of his time in his own company in front of his computer, he truly cares about you and your happiness. the amount of love he shows through the things he does, even the most menial of tasks like bearing the new, less darker curtain colors that you wanted to put up on the windows or stopping whatever new project he was trying to develop to help you move the new couches around the house. he would never do this for anyone else. and as you both sit under the kitchen counter, a bag of open chips on the floor and soda in your hands looking over at the new house makeover you both spent all day working on, you smiled.

“i'm lucky you love me.” you said, taking a sip of your soda and putting your head on his shoulder. he let out a short, breathy laugh before placing a soft kiss on your temple, “wanna go play mario kart and ruin our newly bought couch with chip crumbs?”

“sure.” you said, slowly standing up. you took a few seconds to stare at each other before you started sprinting to the couch, “last one to get there is in charge of cleaning it up!”

“hey, no fair!”

“nothing's fair in mario kart, babe!”

⑇

malleus draconia ‹ diasomnia ›

you once told your husband that one of your most favorite things about him is his smile and the way it so gently breaks out around you. his booming laughter that follows as you eat dinner at the big, lonely castle that was once the place he walked around alone that now feels more alive after he'd married you. you make the most emptiest of places feel alive with love and laughter. you painted his life with colors that he could never see with anyone else.

and speaking of painting, he'd snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of the metal part of he paintbrush clinked on the glass of the jar as the painter dipped the brush into the water. he gave you a glance where you were sat, looking straight at the back of the canvas as if trying to bore a hole onto the painting focusing on keeping your face straight and expressionless as instructed. it was traditional for briar valley's royalty to have their portraits painted whenever there was an addition to the family. and this case, the new addition was you when you both married. and now as he sat beside you, stealing glances he was sure you noticed by the way your lips twitched, he couldnt help but think of how the morning sun's rays seeping into the room that bathed your skin with the soft golden glow of the 10:00 am sun. it made you look absolutely beautiful. well, you always looked beautiful in his eyes. it's why—

someone cleared their throat.

“your highness,” the painter called out to him, “eyes front, if you please.”

he quickly straightened himself, “my apologies.” he hastily responded. he could hear you suck in a breath beside him, probably trying to contain the giggle that was trying to escape your throat.

another 20 minutes of silence passes. just the soft brushing of the paintbrush against the canvas and the occasional clink of the glass could be heard. he couldn't help but steal a glance at you again but to his surprise, you had your eyes on him as well. upon seeing his gaze shift to your figure, you immediately played it cool pretending you weren't looking but the way the smile threatened to break your facade betrayed you. malleus couldn't help the corner of mouth from twitching.

you did your little inhale again to try to compose yourself but uncharacteristically for him, he found that quite humorous abd had to clear his throat to keep him from letting out a laugh.

now that made you break out a smile and clear your own throat to try and stop yourself from bursting into full blown laughter.

you heard the irritation of the painter in the way he placed his paintbrush down. he stood up and gave you and malleus a sharp look before speaking in a very annoyed voice, “i shall go and have a drink delivered to both highnesses as to aid you both in the supposed strains on your throats.”

he made his way to the door, grumbling to himself about how ‘undignified’ or how ‘not taken seriously’ the situation was.

there was a moment of silence before you and malleus burst into a fit of bubbly laughter. his laughs were in his chest escaping in low vibrations while yours were loud and sharp simply to show how hilarious you found the situation to be. with how glorious both your attires were for the portraits looking like the epitome of royalty, the way you were both giggling like teenagers simply threw all the gloriousness out the window.

you once told your husband that one of your most favorite things about him is his smile and the way it so gently breaks out around you. his booming laughter that follows as you eat dinner at the big, lonely castle that was once the place he walked around alone that now feels more alive after he'd married you. even the most boring events in his life that once he would have been forced to accept in all its blandness would be splashed with the most vibrant colors whenever you were in the picture. his life, his love, his pride and joy—you. now that he's seen colors he never would've imagined to be possible to exist in all its dazzling beauty, he can never go back to the dreary shade of gray that hazed over his life. you were his freedom, and he would be ready fight the world to hear your laughter by his side till death do you part.

© merotwst 2023 · do not copy, translate or reproduce.

[saturn-nite]

"she goes boom!"

- drabble . gojo satoru x afab!reader .

summary: maybe you deserved it, maybe you didn't, but satoru can't resist breaking you down to make you beg

cw: dom!satoru, sub!reader, edging (a lot), a very teasing satoru, brat taming if you squint, dumbification for a bit, satoru being unfair, mentions of cunnilingus + fingering, a sprinkle of degradation (calls reader slut), praise (calls reader a good girl), one (1) daddy used, nicknames (honey, darling, my girl), clit spanking briefly, begging, punishment play ish , slight dacryphilia

a/n: first time writing smut and first time posting on tumblr :")) hope yall like xx [this is a repost]

"You still with me, baby?"

The words, low and teasing, are mumbled into your inner thigh in between playful nips, but the concern is still quietly audible. Shakily, you prop yourself up on your elbows, looking blearily where Satoru has lifted his head up from your core.

It's unfair how beautiful he looks- alabaster strands artfully ruffled from when your hands had clung onto them, blue eyes bright and cheeky, glossy pink lips made even glossier with your arousal.

A sharp tap on your thigh reminds you to focus and you force yourself to rein in your thoughts to focus.

"I asked you a question, honey," Satoru murmurs, tilting his head mockingly. "Don't tell me you're already fucked dumb? I haven't even done anything yet."

Your first instinct is to scoff- liar. He has been doing something- someone, rather- and has been for the past hour in fact. Teasing you with his fingers, tongue, playfully slapping your throbbing clit as his fingers massage your outer folds, their tips skimming your entrance but never pushing deeper to soothe the burning ache in your core to let you cum, playfully dangling you at the edge of release every time before pulling back.

"I- Satoru-"

"Focus," he singsongs, his smirk widening into a grin, slapping your clit in quick succession, causing you to squeak slightly. "You never answered my question, darlin'."

"Mm-" you struggle to rein back your thoughts, still panting and sniffing slightly, remembering his check-in. "I- y-yeah, 'm good."

Satoru hums, gently kissing your inner thigh, a quiet agreement to continue this.

"Good girl," he murmurs, letting his soft side show for just half a second before his smirk's back on his face, eyes half-lidded with mischief, low tones transforming into a growl. "Or well... not. This is a punishment, no? 'S what you get for being a bitchy little brat."

You cry out when he spanks your pussy hard to punctuate his point, a half sob lurching out your throat as you try to close your legs and hide your poor cunt from him, but his hands firmly lock your thighs in place, spread out and wide open just for him.

"S-said I was sorry," you whine.

Satoru chuckles lowly and you can't but clench involuntarily at the sound. "Aw, but brats like you never do mean their apologies, do they? But that's okay," he continues casually, conversationally, hands gliding up and down your thighs, tone turning faintly mocking. "Daddy's just gotta fuck the brat outta ya, hmm?"

You whine. "'toru-"

"Shh..." he cuts in smoothly, clambering on top of you, caging you in, gently raising your hands up to pin them on either side of your head. "Just stay pretty for me, hm?"

His lips meet your own, wet with your arousal and you can't help but moan into the kiss, eager for more as your hips needlessly bounce up to rub against one of Satoru's thighs that had sneakily pressed up against your core. The slight friction makes you dizzy and you whimper, mindlessly rubbing up and down his thigh as the kiss deepens.

"God, you're such a slut, huh?" he chuckles, breaking the kiss. "Can't last two minutes without me touching you down there, can you?"

"Satoru, please-"

"Please what, honey?" he chuckles, mouth moving down to nibble on that sensitive spot on your neck and you keen. To him, you're so cute like this, your walls breaking down from some simple pleasure, tongue-tied from trying to answer a couple of questions. "You gotta be specific."

"'Toru," you gasp. "Just- please."

Satoru clicks his tongue, shaking his head, mock pouting. "Darling, I know you can to better than that... use your words, huh?"

"Satoru-"

He frowns and sits up, releasing your hands. "Hmm? Well, I guess you don't want it that much then-"

"Toru, please-" you grab his wrist, blinking away tears of desperation, trembling. "Please just fuck me, please, need you inside me, wanna feel you-"

"Aww, you're so cute when you're honest," he purrs, leaning in close, right beside your ear.

You screw your eyes up at the feeling of his warm breath fanning over the shell of your ear. Even with your eyes firmly shut, you don't need to imagine to cocky, fox-like smirk on his face, canines ready to devour you.

"But I think my girl can last a bit longer than that, right~?"

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Hypersexual

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: reference to SA if you squint?, Astarion being soft, reader being defensive af, persistent Astarion, happy ending because I'm weak

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It was one of the first things Astarion noticed about you. Your bed was rarely empty. The Grove, the Goblin Camp, the Underdark, Moonrise Towers, etc. Everywhere you went you seemed to have a warm body beside you by the end of the night. Himself included. He pined for your attention. Feeding from you daily brought you close, sleeping with you brought you closer, opening up bit by bit brought you even closer. And yet, he could still find the occasional rando leaving your tent at first light. If he listened closely enough, he could almost always hear sniffles coming from your tent every time someone left. He typically ignored it, opting to not care so he didn’t get attached. Unfortunately for him, he was attached. He had been for a while and seeing people leave your tent was like a knife to the chest every time. He wanted to confront you eventually, so that's what he did. 

He walked over to your tent, hearing the sniffles intensify the closer he got. When he peered inside he saw your naked form, balled up tight, sobbing quietly. He saw the hickies and claw marks the tiefling from last night had left on you. “Y/N?” he whispered.

You swiftly wiped your tears away as you moved to cover yourself up. “Astarion, darling. It’s so early, is everything alright?” You threw on the best smile you could manage while willing yourself to shed no more tears. 

“Why are you crying?” he asked as he moved into your tent fully.

“Tears of pleasure.” you waved him off, doing your best to sound lustful.

“You’re a terrible liar, my sweet.” he said as he sat opposite from you but still giving you space. 

You sighed, rolling your eyes, “Why do you care anyways?” you cringed internally, that sounded harsher than you intended. 

Astarion’s eyes softened a bit, “Because I care for you.” he said honestly. 

“Because I’m your blood bag,” you scoffed. “Worry not, I’m well enough for you to feed so… get on with it I guess.” you said as you tucked your hair behind your ear, leaning in for him to chomp down on your pulse point. 

Yet you felt nothing but the cold night air. Your eyes found his after a moment of hesitation. “What?” you said.

“You are so much more than food.” he said, a guilty look on his face. Is that all you thought of him? Somebody using you? “Why do you sleep with them?” he asked suddenly, trying to connect the dots in his head.

Your eyes widened, “It’s none of your business.” you said, your voice wavering. “I like sex, so why not?” your eyes avoided his, afraid he would see the truth in them. 

“Terrible liar.” he whispered, his foot tapping against your knee trying to get your attention. 

“Because it makes it all hurt a little less!” you yelled, his consistent questioning pushing you over the edge. “Because it fills the fucking void somebody put inside me. They used me, they hurt me. So if I can be desired, even for a moment, I will.” you felt tears stream down your cheeks as Astarion watched you, his mouth slightly agape. “This horrible feeling sits inside me like tar. Black and oozing and there is nothing I can do to fix it. I sleep with them because I want to know I can still be desired if I cannot be loved.”

“Who said you cannot be loved?” he said, leaning forward to wipe a tear from your face with his thumb.

“I… I just can’t… nobody can love me after what they did to me. Taking my body, playing with it while I just laid there… frozen. I thought they loved me…” you mumbled, memories from your past flooding you. 

“I love you.” he said simply.

Your head whipped up to gaze at him, “You don’t even know what love is Astarion.” you turned away from him so he couldn’t see you cry. 

“On the contrary… I have seen lust. I did it for 200 years. But this ache I have inside me, the longing I have for you and only you. That, I believe, is love. And… I like to imagine you feel the same way.” Astarion put a hand on your shoulder, moving slowly when you initially flinched away. 

“How can you love me? Aren’t you disgusted?” you whimpered. You wanted to believe him so badly, but how could you? You were made to be used. 

Astarion shifted so he could see you as he tilted your quivering chin upwards. “For sleeping with others? Darling I have bedded thousands.” he rubbed your cheek reassuringly. 

“That’s different. You didn’t have a choice.” you said, your voice coming out strained.

“I would argue that you didn’t either. When someone violates you like that… I’ve seen it go two ways. You overindulge, or you isolate. Both are natural reactions. Yours was to try and find solace, penance in others. None of it is shameful… it’s just… how things are I suppose.” he said, struggling a bit to find the right words but you felt the connection he was trying to make. 

“Each of them took a little piece of my soul… I’m not sure how much is left of me to give.” you shuddered in a breath, trying to calm yourself. 

“I don’t want your soul… All I ask is your heart, in exchange for mine.” he smiled at you, moving to hold your hand while he cupped your cheek. You had never seen eyes with so much sincerity and kindness. 

“I… I’d like that.” you whisper, leaning your forehead against his for a moment before your eyes opened once again with worry. “Do we have to…” you motioned between the two of you and the bedroll.

“Not until you want to. Completely, freely.” he nodded at you.

“And if I never want to?” you asked cautiously.

“Then I will love you all the same.” he leaned in slightly. He could feel your breath on his lips but waited for you to close the gap. 

You kissed him softly. He could feel the fear and apprehension in your kiss. While you felt the patience and adoration in his.

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Naboo's Note:

Hello lovelies! Hope ya'll like this one as well. Two in one night? What a deal lol I really like this one. Is it a bit of a trauma dump? Yes but writing is how I get it out and Astarion would 10000% comfort me through any of it. We love a supportive king. What a guy. Anyways! - be safe everyone, see ya'll soon!

[ms-fade]

hi! how about kaz brekker smut with a reader who's crying cause it feels sooo good??

Tears.

Kaz brekker x reader. 18+ Drabble. (No confirmation of gender)

YES! YES I WILL DARLING.

I hope this is okay! It’s short, also added a bit of another kink in it- Hope it’s okay. Also a glimpse of slightly dark Kaz entering.

Warning: Crying of pleasure, fluffy? Smut, spanking.

Kaz brekker was one who needed you to be comfortable at all times. You had stayed by his side and waited for him until he was comfortable with touch. The time with waiting, wanting and painfully watching you, he finally let the demons in his head go away.

So he hasn’t been letting anything get in the way of him having you, where he wants, when he want. (If you want it too) But he was a monster in bed, even though he cared he was always so rough with you. But you didn’t want it any other way.

“Fuck.” He groaned above you as he slammed his hips between your spread thighs. The room smelled like sex and the two of you, the room was getting hotter as each second passed by. He didn’t care that you both had pushed the bed back into the wall.

You wrapped so perfectly around him and the warmth felt so fucking good. He would slam so hard to get his cock to hit the deepest parts he could reach. He knew just the way you liked it, what way to push his cock in and the rhythm you liked. You had taught him how to touch you right, even taking some leads on his own that made you see stars.

His head leads back and his eyes closed from the pleasure. He had no clue as you started to tear up but he could feel the effects it had on your hole. But when a sob left your lips his head stopped and his eyes snapped open to pay attention. You had tears leaking from your eyes. It was painful to feel him stop, you didn’t want him to stop.

“What’s wrong?” He asked worries and went to pull out but you grabbed ahold of him. “No! Keep going. It feels so good, please.” You cried and raised your voice to get him to fuck you again.

He liked it when you had a tear or two from pleasure but this was new, it was different. Something in him slapped and screamed at him to make you cry worse, he wanted to hear you sob over and over as he pounded into you. But there was one thing he needed to do before releasing a new monster from within him.

“Are you sure? I need to know your okay.” He asked so calmly that it made your heart strings tug. You nodded quietly and looked up at him with scrunched brows of need. “I’m fine, so please just keep fucking me.” You whined and wrapped your legs around him and arched your back to get a new angle.

And with that you unleash him from a cage. Smirking darkly and got a almost a evil look in his eyes. “I want you weeping all night.” He took his hands and flipped you over on your stomach and pushed your head down but lifted your ass up. A moan left your lips as he pushed himself back in and slammed into you, earning a sob from you.

“I’m going to have every hole wet and dripping, when we are through the pillow better be soaking wet.” His firm hand slapped across your ass cheek. “I enjoy seeing, and hearing you cry for my cock.”