#I think he's at the cusp of learning. it was at the 'you have always been a fine judge of character' moment.

[inkskinned]

it is the first snow today. i think we should all have off work, even though it didn't stick. i think there should be 4 national holidays, one for each season. happy first snow, go home and make cookies. for spring it can be the first crocus. for summer the first lightning bug. for autumn, the first golden leaf. go home, kiss your dog, feed your cat (who is absolutely already-fed but somehow still starving.)

i think we should all take more showers together, but i mean that in the soft way. i mean it like taking a nap. two years ago i had 5 adult friends in my queen bed, all of us laying across each other, head over belly over thigh over hand. any time one of us would giggle, it would ripple over each of us, like pulling on a spiderweb. kim actually needed to nap and didn't get to sleep and i am still sorry for it even though this is one of my most precious memories.

i think we should all wash each other's hair, i mean. i walk my dog and i watch someone put up twinkle lights around their front porch. alex and i just moved, and i love the neighborhood. already so many of our new neighbors have stopped by to say hello. the nice lady downstairs also collects plants, like me. she gave us her number on a pink post-it note. i am trying to decide whether to make her cookies or brownies.

i am going through a very hard time. something bad happened this weekend that i do not wish to discuss. it is hanging over me. i think of the green ribbon, and the woman who had her throat cut. it feels like that sometimes, inside of my body. like i am walking and talking despite being half-corpsed. like i am hanging on by a ribbon, standing on some kind of cusp. i keep saying - at least it wasn't worse. we are so lucky it wasn't worse. the idea is river-rock smooth now, all the edges worried off.

in this very dark night - the sun sets by 3 now - people don't need to, but they try anyway. they paint the missing light into things. i have an embarrassing number of missed calls and texts, but i feel the love from them nevertheless - hey. if you need something, i'm here. i will bring you food/puzzles/anything. i got you.

i think we should all have a big group chat where we do errands with strangers. this week i got lost in a home depot, which is wild because i'm a lesbian and we are actually hatched in a lowe's lumber section. there were two other women in the whole store. we ended up shopping together, at first by accident (we all needed things in the same aisle), and then because, well, why not. one of the ladies was taller than me, so she pulled down the screws i needed. i am agile and have the personality of a raccoon, so they sent me after anything below 3 feet. we talked about holiday plans and never learned each other's names, but did learn all the drama about each other's families.

i am making you cupcakes, because i have so much affection i want to pour it into batter. you ask me if i am eating enough per meal. i wrap your gift twice, trying to do it prettily. i get excited to give it to you, just because i hope you'll be excited too.

my parents drive an hour just to see the new apartment and to do the parent thing; standing in the kitchen saying things like "oh you'll get so much use from this dishwasher" and "well, you could paint that" and "when your mother and i moved it was uphill both ways and in a snowstorm and of course your brother was an infant." my mother brought me a plant for housewarming. i always say i love you before she leaves.

i play dnd on tuesdays still, after all these years. we all keep that night free. at one point, between grad school and marriage and all of it, we had to have a serious discussion about how to keep it running. we will keep going, we decided eventually. just to see each other, even if we don't play - you are all important to me. sebastian is not prone to affection but last night he stole my usual sign off - i love you all, be good, he said. he was laughing.

i don't love the winter, actually. i like snow in theory, but i grew up in the north, and am too-familiar with the season of "mud and sludge". i don't like being cold. but i do love something kind of soft and rare: every year around this time, people remember oh yes. you and i are human together. and i have love to spare.

it is the first snow, and something in my heart is finally warm again. i have spent what felt like the last 18 months just going-through-the-motions. it has felt blank and immediate, like i would never actually feel again. that sounds extremely trite and stupid - but that is the boring and familiar experience of depression. life just washes up against your windows, and you watch it happening. you see things that should be lovely and affecting, and it just whispers too-thin. i was desperately uncreative. uninterested in my hobbies. unimpressed by my writing. i told my therapist, often, i don't know how to find hope again.

almost sheepishly, something strange and lovely is burning in my chest. i keep not-looking at it, worried it will scamper back into the shadows again. it is skittish and wild, but it is so warm i want to sink my hands into its fur and feel it breathing. i love-hate it: if it's real, it can hurt me when it leaves again. but i am icarus-born, sun-lover and poet: i can't help myself. despite my best intentions, i am falling in love with life again.

i am planning to make cookies for my friends. alex and i are going to go christmas tree shopping. we picked out matching dish towels last night, and they have little mushrooms on them.

i love you. it does come back. yes, even after a long time. even for you. i promise. keep trying. you will wake up and it will be a day you can smile about.

write me when you get there. we will take the day off of work, and i will wash your hair, and we will both be laughing.

[smileysuh]

after the seminar

🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. In truth, Wonwoo has been tired. You haven’t fucked since the first night of the seminar, and although that was only two days ago, you’re definitely feeling the loss. On top of that, being wined and dined and looked after always makes you hornier than usual, and Wonwoo has been extra ‘husband’ today. He’s just so perfect. Well-mannered, kind, educated- God, you want him so bad.

tw/cw. sugar daddy Wonwoo, gentleman in the streets/softdom in the sheets, reader doesn't want to make choices, daddy/control kink, fingering, multiple orgasms, oral, blow job, deep throating, dirty talk, praise, masturbation, unprotected sex, holding hands while fucking, implied breeding/fullness kink, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey. (his) daddy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.3k

🍭 aus. sugar daddy au, established relationship, fiance!Wonwoo, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I know not everyone is into this level of sugar daddy control, but I think there's something to be said about the trust that reader has for Wonwoo. Sometimes I just wanna shut up and let a man do all the work, and today, that man is Wonwoo

Wonwoo’s had few loves in his life. During university, he’d had a love for law, a need to do what was right. In his thirties, he’d found a new soulmate in legislative procedures related to the sustainability and efficiency of whole cities. Finance had been another long-winded lover, and now, on the cusp of forty, Wonwoo’s found the one thing in the world he loves most, you.

Holding your hand while he drives through the city, Wonwoo can’t help but keep some of his attention on you. 

Dressed in a tight-fitting red dress he’d bought you for your six-month anniversary in Paris, with your hair and makeup done, you look as stunning as ever. There’s a fat rock on your wedding finger, an engagement ring signifying his loyalty to you, and Wonwoo can’t help himself but play with it a little anytime your hands are linked.

As he makes a turn onto a busy street, the sun practically blinds him, and Wonwoo immediately lets go of you to adjust his visor. You make no movement, so he pulls yours down too, enjoying the way you flash him a small smile and whisper a ‘thank you.’

“You look lost in thought,” he muses, having noted your gaze fixed on the sidewalk trees passing by outside your window. “What’s on your mind?”

“Just thinking about seminar topics,” you admit. 

Over the past three days, you’ve accompanied him to multiple talks focused on accessibility, affordability, and green solutions within cities like yours. Tonight marks the last evening of the event, and the two of you are headed to a meet-up with some of Wonwoo’s closest lawyer friends. 

Wonwoo loves how diligently you’ve thrown yourself into his work-focused world. Not only do you attend the seminars with him, but you truly make an effort to learn, and that’s never more obvious than when conversing with his colleagues.

Wonwoo’s best friend, Kim Mingyu, has entertained a string of sugar baby relationships, and despite inviting three or four of those women to events like the one you’ve just accompanied Wonwoo to, none of Mingyu’s girls ever took to it the way you do.

You’re one of a kind, and Wonwoo knows how lucky he is to have you.

“I’m sure Seungcheol will have a few things to say about the housing crisis talk,” Wonwoo notes. Choi Seungheol, who had started in law and made the leap to real estate. He now owns half of the new developments being built downtown, and Wonwoo knows this will spur a contentious discussion later.

“He can’t argue with the stats,” you sigh, turning to look at Wonwoo, who threads his fingers with yours again. 

“He can try,” Wonwoo smiles softly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. 

You return the smile, turning your attention out the window again. 

You’re not voicing anything, but Wonwoo can read you like a book. It used to be his job to pay attention to body language, and while he tries to stay humble, people have called him something of a mind reader.

“It’s been an exhausting three days,” he notes. “We don’t have to be out for long tonight, I’m sure we both need our rest.”

“Hansol flies to New York tomorrow morning,” you remind him. “I want you to have as much time with him as you need before he’s gone.”

Your relationship is always something like this, the two of you caring for each other so deeply that you constantly make small concessions. As always, though, the ball is in Wonwoo’s court. He appreciates the way you can feel to him like an intellectual equal while still being submissive in other senses, although he never abuses this power over you.

He’ll keep an eye on you tonight, and when he notices you getting tired, or your energy depleting, he’ll excuse the both of you from drinks and take you back to his place. Then, he’ll take care of you in the ways only he knows how. 

You love Wonwoo. You love him for the big things, his character, his good heart- but you love him for the little things too, the way nothing slips past his line of focus. He’s always a hundred percent on and present with you, holding open every door, guiding you by the small of your back, and pulling out your chair first when you join his friends on the top floor restaurant in the most expensive hotel in the city.

“You look amazing,” Mingyu compliments you, flashing you a toothy grin before standing to greet Wonwoo with a hug. “You definitely know how to pick them,” he praises his friend.

“And look at that ring,” Seungcheol has zeroed in on the diamond on your finger, and he reaches across the table to take your hand and get a better look at it. Wonwoo’s eldest friend has always had an eye for luxury, and he studies the oval rock and silver-colored band. “I’d ask if this is sterling,” he muses, “but if I were a betting man, which I am, I’d say it’s white gold.” 

Seungcheol lifts his eyes to meet yours, waiting for an affirmative, which you give with a nod. “You know your metals, Mister Choi.”

“How many times do I have to tell you,” he lifts your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to your fingers, “It’s Seungcheol.” 

“Stop flirting with Wonwoo’s girl,” Hansol tuts, pushing at Seungcheol’s shoulder.

The elder man makes a face, brushing off his expensive suit. “Not flirting,” he clarifies. “Although,” his gaze shifts to you again, “if you have any hot friends-”

“Aish,” Wonwoo has rejoined the conversation after greeting Mingyu, and he takes the seat next to you, his arm casually coming around the back of your chair to pull you closer. “What have I told you about asking her for favors?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Sungcheol sighs, sitting back and crossing his arms over his broad chest. “She’s one in a million, aren’t ya, little miss future Jeon to be?”

“Try one in a billion,” Wonwoo corrects, hand finding your thigh now that he’s pulled you close enough. “Have you three ordered drinks yet?”

“We were waiting on you,” Mingyu says, handing Wonwoo a cocktail menu, which he settles between you both so you can also read it. “Their margaritas are pretty good.”

You quickly find a drink you’d like to try, and you wordlessly reach out a manicured nail to tap on it. Wonwoo follows your motion, giving a curt nod, then he leans in to press his lips to your cheek. He waves down the waiter a moment later, and orders you your drink, sparing you the socialization.

This is yet another one of those little things Wonwoo does for you that you find incredibly sexy, and you tuck closer to him, placing your hand over his own on your thigh. 

“We should talk about the elephant in the room,” Mingyu sighs, drawing all eyes. You have no idea what he’s about to say, and then he hits the four of you with, “Cheol, you have to admit your new high rises aren’t sustainable or affordable.”

“They’re called luxury suits for a reason,” Seungcheol scoffs. “I’m not in the business of affordable housing.” 

Wonwoo grins next to you, looking down and squeezing your hand gently. It’s funny how amusing he finds this whole thing. 

“Don’t smirk like that, Woo,” Seungcheol tuts. “As if you didn’t do a walk-through of a penthouse suite in my new highrise last week.” 

This is news to you, and you turn to look at your boyfriend. You’re generally not one to question him, and luckily you don’t have to, because Kim Mingyu is just as nosey as you’d sometimes like to be. “You checked out a penthouse? I thought you loved your apartment?”

“I’ve had it for years,” Wonwoo says, and you can tell he’s choosing his words carefully. “However, I can admit that the amenities at Cheol’s new builds are quite impressive.”

“Amenities,” Seungcheol scoffs. “As if that’s what you were actually interested in.”

The two powerful men share a look, and it’s a battle of wills that makes your heart thump loudly in your chest. 

What was Wonwoo interested in?

He’s never talked to you about moving, and you’ve been living with him for nearly a year. Besides, Mingyu’s right, Wonwoo adores his apartment. He’s had it forever and it’s decorated exactly the way he likes it. Your bedroom is a lovely corner location with views of the whole city, and his home office is a sanctuary you’ve loved to desecrate. 

“We’ll talk about this more another time,” Wonwoo says finally, looking up as your waiter appears with a tray of drinks. 

Your cocktail is set in front of Wonwoo, and he gently pushes it toward you before reaching down to give your thigh a squeeze under the table. He picks up his Old Fashioned with his free hand, and Seungcheol raises his own glass in a toast. “To friends and new engagements!”

Seungcheol nods to you before taking a sip of his scotch, and it fills your body with heat to know his friends truly respect and like you. They’re happy to have you joining as a permanent member of their social sphere. 

You place your hand on top of Wonwoo’s as you bring your cocktail to your lips. 

The discussion moves to details about sustainability, and the men at the table trade opinions on the seminars. Mingyu is fast in his manner of speaking, always intent to prove his point. Cheol is loud and boisterous, scoffing at opinions that don’t align with his own. Hansol is often quiet, but he makes good notes ever so often, and they make the whole table sit and think. And your Wonwoo is as calm and judicial as always, listening to his friends with a contemplative expression even while his thumb draws small circles on your thigh. 

You give your own two cents a few times, and your musings are always the most well-received. None of the men at the table are about to pick a fight with you, and they’re attentive whenever you open your mouth, nodding and making one or two comments before getting heated with each other again. 

The waiter comes and Seungcheol orders a few appetizers while Wonwoo opens the menu for you. When Wonwoo begins to list three of his own items, you tap your finger on the one you’d like most and he voices that as well.

God, how you love the fact that you only have to lift one little finger with Wonwoo while he does the rest. You really aren’t in a super talkative mood, especially when it comes to mundane tasks like ordering food and drinks. You save your voice to join in on the intellectual conversation taking place, and you prefer things this way.

Seungcheol and Wonwoo begin to argue over rezoning laws, and Hansol turns toward you, leaning closer. “Congratulations on your engagement,” he smiles. 

“Thank you,” you grin back. 

“Have you guys talked about wedding plans yet?”

Out of all the people in the world, you didn’t think Chwe Hansol would be one of the first to ask you about wedding details. 

“We’re thinking destination,” you admit.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Hansol laughs. “And an expensive honeymoon too I bet.” 

“Of course,” you grin, playing with the stem of your cocktail glass. “Although, if I’m being honest…” you lean closer to Hansol, lowering your voice while Wonwoo and Seungcheol continue to argue, “as much as I like the lifestyle I have with Wonwoo, you know I’m happy just to be with him.”

“But the expensive trips are a bonus I bet,” Hansol grins. 

“I mean… would you say no to a trip to the Maldives?” 

Wonwoo’s friend shakes his head, still smiling. “Never.”

“When are you going to find someone?” you ask. Out of all of Wonwoo’s close friends, Hansol is the most level-headed. He’s stable, and kind, and if you weren’t so into Wonwoo, you’d even admit Hansol is quite handsome in his own way. 

“Someday,” Hansol sighs. “Maybe you’ll have cute bridesmaids at your wedding.”

“I’ll put in a good word for you,” you assure him. 

Hansol laughs. “I’d appreciate that.”

Food begins to arrive at the table, and you sit up straight again, tucking close to Wonwoo. He’s done this thing, ever since your first date, where he helps plate food for you, and for some reason, it’s always been a huge turn-on.

You like getting baby girl treatment, and you watch Wonwoo with a grin while he cuts through some carpaccio and sets up a piece for you. He makes sure to get a little bit of everything on your plate before putting anything on his own, and his friends are already digging in by the time he’s gotten the both of you settled.

“Do you want anything else?” he asks, always the type to be certain he’s pleased you.

“This looks perfect,” you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, lingering by his ear so he’s the only one who can hear you when you say, “Thank you, Daddy.”

Wonwoo reaches down and squeezes your thigh, the only sign you have that your words have done something to him. He’s not the type to be big on PDA, and it’s the little things like a constant touch, or acts of service, that remind you he loves you as much as you love him.

You wait for Wonwoo to lift a carpaccio bread spread to his lips before you reach for your own, mirroring his motions so you can experience the food together. 

You hadn’t been a carpaccio fan before meeting Wonwoo, but he’s expanded your pallet in the time you’ve known him, and you’re extremely thankful for this opportunity - as well as others - that he’s provided for you.

“Look at you two loved-up foodies,” Seungcheol sighs from across the table, watching you with eyes trained to assess. 

Wonwoo only grins, reaching for his drink to take a sip. You follow that motion too, smirking over the rim of your glass before downcasting your eyes. 

There’s no need to respond to Seuncheol’s comment because it’s an apt description of the pair of you.

“Stop being jealous,” Mingyu grins, reaching out to push at Seungcheol’s shoulder. 

“Never going to happen,” Seungcheol retorts. 

You know he’s in the market for a sugar baby, and Wonwoo’s told you how often Seungcheol brings you up when you’re not around. Apparently, his eldest friend is adamant that you’re one of the most perfect sugar babies he’s ever seen, and you wonder if maybe you should try to hook him up with one of your friends at the wedding. Give Cheol the Hansol treatment. However, in contrast to Hansol’s laid-back expectations, you’d have to give your Cheol-intended friend a cheat sheet booklet on how to please a rich man.

“Just watch,” Seungcheol continues, “these two are going to sneak off early and go to the bathroom or something. They’re sitting much too close together, and we’ve all noticed Wonwoo’s hand under the table.”

To show his innocence, Wonwoo lifts the hand in question. “We’re not doing anything,” he assures his friends calmly. “Although… unfortunately, we will have to leave early after appetizers.”

This is news to you, and you look at Wonwoo for further clarification, which he gives when pressed by Seungcheol.

“It’s been a long seminar,” Wonwoo explains, letting out a sigh of exhaustion. “I’d say Honey needs her beauty rest, but I think we all know I’m not so nice when I’ve been sleep deprived.”

You love it when he calls you Honey, in fact, he uses that name for you more than your legal one. 

Seungcheol lets out a groan, but he doesn’t push further, because Wonwoo’s excuse is true. He’s never been rude to you when tired, but he definitely has a ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude when he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed. 

“We’ve got a meeting tomorrow morning,” Mingyu agrees. “Maybe I should get another drink and call it a night too.”

“Come on Gyu,” Seungcheol scoffs. “I’ll let these two ditch, but this is Hansol’s last night in the city, I thought we could go to a roof on one of my new waterfront builds and hit some golf balls at the sea.”

“Right, because that’s very environmentally friendly,” Wonwoo tuts.

“Jesus, you are tired, aren’t you?” Seungcheol laughs. 

It’s a rhetorical question, and Wonwoo simply lifts another appetizer to his mouth, chewing with a tight-lipped grin. 

In truth, Wonwoo has been tired. You haven’t fucked since the first night of the seminar, and although that was only two days ago, you’re definitely feeling the loss. On top of that, being wined and dined and looked after always makes you hornier than usual, and Wonwoo has been extra ‘husband’ today.

He’s just so perfect. Well-mannered, kind, educated- 

God, you want him so bad.

You take a sip of your cocktail again before resting your hand on Wonwoo’s thigh, and he stops what he’s doing to look down at your fingers toying with his pants. Then his gaze rises to you, and he cocks his head slightly, obviously a little stunned by how forward you’re being tonight.

It’s such a small motion, but it speaks volumes, and when paired with a small flutter of your lashes, Wonwoo reads you like he reads the books in his impressive office library. 

Part of you wants to toy with him, wants to tease your touch up to his crotch just to see if you can get him hard at dinner with his friends, but you know that would lead to something akin to consequence. 

As easy as it is for Wonwoo to read you, he’s not such an open book and his reactions vary drastically. You don’t want to push your luck today, not after you’ve been such a good girl for him for three seminars straight.

You remove your hand before playing with fire gets you burned, and the two of you continue to finish your appetizers. Each bite is one step closer to leaving with Wonwoo, but you try to take your time, try not to be too glutenous to make way for lust. 

Wonwoo finished eating and he lifts his drink with his left hand, his right palm finding your thigh again. His touch is soothing, gentle, but it still stirs a fire within you.

You shift your knee, letting it rest against his, and you sip your cocktail trying to pay attention to what Mingyu’s saying about the stock market. 

Wonwoo is generally quite the stocks man. He pays attention to Mingyu, but you can tell his focus is still partially on you, and you reach down to play with his fingers, enjoying how pretty his hands are. 

You need him so badly. 

That’s when you realize Wonwoo has almost finished his drink, and you quickly grab at yours too, wanting to reach the bottom of your own cup. 

You’ve not been drinking since the seminar started, and the booze in your cocktail definitely heightens your senses. An electric tingle consumes your form, and it’s getting harder to ignore the panties sticking to your core. 

The conversation reaches a lull,  and Wonwoo lets out a sigh, squeezing your legs. “Well, it’s been fun,” he says, “but Honey and I should get going.”

“One more drink,” Seungcheol practically begs, already lifting a hand to call over a waiter.

“Not tonight,” Wonwoo says, soft but firm. 

He stands up first, grabbing your hand to help you out of your own seat. “Good luck with your flight tomorrow, Hansol,” he nods to the man on your right. 

“Good luck with wedding planning,” Hansol retorts, rising from his chair to pull you and Wonwoo into a hug. 

Hansol’s not usually a touchy guy, and the hug means something. It’s a true acceptance that you’re permanently a part of Wonwoo’s life, and it means the world to you. 

“Now I want a hug,” Mingyu also stands, holding out his arms for you and Wonwoo.

With a laugh, your fiance’s hand finds the small of your back and he guides you into Mingyu’s warm embrace, trapping you between their large bodies. 

Now you’re really turned on. 

Seungcheol doesn’t stand, he simply watches, lips all pouty. “Let me know about that penthouse,” he muses. “I’ve got some foreign buyers already wanting a walk through and I won’t hold it forever.”

“I’ll get back to you,” Wonwoo promises, giving one last nod to Seungcheol before he begins to guide you out of the restaurant.

As you make it to the front desk, Wonwoo stops and addresses the staff member there. “I’m going to take care of my table’s bill tonight.”

“I’ll put it on your tab, Mr. Jeon.” She nods, typing something into the ipad infront of her.

“That was kind of you,” you muse as Wonwoo escorts you into the elevator that will lead to the underground where his expensive Mercedes is parked.

“We’re leaving early, it’s the least I could do.”

“You know… I hope we didn’t leave on my account,” you say, thinking about the conversation you’d had in the car earlier.

Wonwoo leans down close to you, grinning. “I can safely say we left due to my own personal needs, although they’re not sleep-related.” 

“You really like this dress, don’t you, Daddy?” you smile, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck while his hands settle on your hips.

“I like what’s under it,” he retorts, which is a cheeky response by Wonwoo’s standards.

“Been missing my body, haven’t you?”

“More than you realize.”

Wonwoo had kept his composure on the drive home. He’d even kept his hands mostly to himself on the way up to your apartment, but your stoic lover is on you the moment the door to your home is closed behind you both.

He presses you up against the wall, grabbing your waist and tugging you close while simultaneously blocking you up against the hard surface at your back. His lips are hot against your own, his tongue invading your mouth and making you giggle as you grab the front of his shirt, already popping buttons open.

You release a moan when he reaches down and cups your core, pushing up your dress to access your lacey panties. “Where do you want it, honey?” he asks, biting at your lip.

“I don’t want to think tonight,” you admit, tired from days of brain power.

You love that Wonwoo likes to check in with you. He’s not the type to simply throw you over a kitchen counter and rail you when you might prefer the bed or even the shower- but at the same time, as soon as you give him full control, Wonwoo’s very good at taking charge.

“I’ll take care of you,” Wonwoo promises, pushing your panties to the side so he can slide two fingers against your heated core. You can feel how wet you are, and the contact against your clit has you whining, grabbing his face to bring his mouth to yours again while he pushes two digits knuckle deep into your aching core.

You’re sensitive from a few days without being touched, and it feels like heaven to have Wonwoo worshipping you like this again. You tangle your fingers in his hair as he draws his mouth down to your jaw then your throat, peppering your skin in kisses that have you shivering with pleasure.

“Daddy-” you whimper, your hips thrusting toward his hand as he works you open, palming your clit with delicious pressure. 

“I know, Honey, I know,” he soothes, and between gasped breaths and moans, you can hear your pussy squelching already. 

It’s getting harder and harder to stand on your shaky legs, your heels not meant for standing sex or heavy petting like this. But it’s also clear to you that Wonwoo has no intention of stopping his motions until you’ve cum on his fingers, so you do your best to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself while that wonderful feeling builds in the pit of your stomach. 

“I’ve missed this pussy,” Wonwoo tells you, voice low. It’s not often that he uses vulgarity, even in the bedroom, and his words betray how much he truly needs you. Your skin tingles with excitement, pussy throbbing, heart thundering in your chest-

It’s crazy how one sentence can nearly shortcircuit your brain when paired with Wonwoo using his hands like this- stroking the parts of you that he knows better than anyone else in the world.

Your fiance has taken his sweet time getting to know your body, and it shows in moments like these. 

“I’m so close-” you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders. You should care about his expensive suit jacket, but you don’t- all that matters is the orgasm you’re desperately chasing, hips moving to ride Wonwoo’s hand while his unrelenting fingers get you closer and closer to the edge-

“Come on, honey,” Wonwoo grins, mouth returning to the spot on your neck that always makes you go feral, “cum for me.” 

One more rough thrust with his fingers has you moaning, tumbling past the edge as your orgasm overtakes you. 

If you’d nearly been falling over before this, you almost crumple to the floor with all the pleasure coursing through you now. Wonwoo’s free arm loops around your waist, and he presses you closer to the wall, keeping you propped up while his hand continues between your shaking thighs.

He releases a low groan, and you can feel his cock pressing through his pants by your hip. You feel delirious already, body pulsing, skin tingling. Wonwoo’s broad shoulders are your lifeline, and you grip them desperately, taking everything he has to give you like the good girl you are.

“Wonwoo-” you whimper, seeking out his lips, cupping his face to draw him closer. His tongue glides against your own, and you’re enough of a distraction that his fingers begin to slow inside of you.

Finally, he pulls his hand away from between your thighs, dragging his lips from yours so he can sink his digits into his mouth. You watch him lick them clean, listening to the groan of satisfaction that escapes him while you do your best to catch your breath.

“You’re always so good for me,” Wonwoo tells you, lifting his gaze to yours again. 

You swallow thickly, mind swimming, searching for a response. “You deserve it,” you assure him finally.

“And I know what you deserve tonight,” he retorts. 

In one quick motion, he lifts you up bridal style. One of your stilettos crashes to the floor from the sudden way your body has just been swung like a rag doll, but neither of you care as Wonwoo carries you through the apartment toward the bedroom.

You can’t help the giggle that escapes you. Wonwoo always makes you feel like a princess, and he looks like a classic prince while doing it. His side profile is so regal- all sharp bones and pretty lips. God- how did you ever get this lucky?

When you get to your destination, Wonwoo is gentle when he sets you onto the mattress. He straightens and looks down at your form, letting out a deep breath.

“Can you take that pretty dress off for me, honey?” he asks, already shrugging off his suit jacket and setting it over a chair nearby. 

“Of course, daddy,” you grin, reaching down to grab at the hem of the silky outfit, dragging it up your thigh.

His eyes are glued to you even as he works on his cuff links, and you take your sweet time as he makes it to the buttons of his shirt. The dress has a corset style back, and you tug on the ribbon before slowly working it open.

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything, but you can see his breathing pick up as the fabric gets less tight on your chest, revealing more and more of your bralessness. 

When he makes it to his pants, you remove the dress, leaving you in nothing but your thong, which is soaked through. 

Your fiance swallows thickly. “Panties too, honey. I don’t think I have the patience to wait any longer tonight.”

His lack of patience is clear in the way his cock slaps up against his abdomen, released by the pants now pooled by his feet.

Wonwoo looks like a fucking God, especially while naked. He’s lean but muscled, and you’ve spent hours tracing each ridge and bone. His cock is an impressive length of around seven inches, it’s pale like the rest of him, but when he’s really turned on, it flushes in colour.

Right now, his cock is a pinkish red, and you can see the angry tip already leaking desperately. 

You stand up, sneaking a kiss to his lips while hooking your fingers in your panties. Pushing them down, you get onto your knees.

“Honey, you don’t have to-”

“Maybe I’m impatient too, have you ever thought of that, daddy?” you ask, grabbing the base of his length and leaning forward to kitten lick the tip.

Wonwoo releases a low groan, reaching down to thread his fingers through your hair.

“I’ve missed you,” you murmur, enjoying the way he reacts when you kiss his cock gently. “Missed the weight of you in my mouth.”

“Fuck-”

It’s not often that Wonwoo curses, and the word goes straight to your core.

“Can I touch myself while I suck you off, daddy?” 

“I’d be upset if you didn’t,” he admits. “I want you dripping when I finally pull you off my cock and fuck you the way you like it.”

You whimper, your whole body alight with energy as you take him into your mouth. You’re already practically drooling from his fingers earlier and the dirty talk now, which makes it easy to coat him in spit. 

You’ve never been able to take all of Wonwoo in your mouth, but you do your best, gripping the base and bobbing your head while you begin to toy with your clit.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Wonwoo groans, taking a deep breath as his hand guides you on his cock. “Always so good for me.”

The praise only makes you suck on him harder. You sink so far down onto him that his tip hits the back of your throat. You feel yourself constrict around him and Wonwoo lets out a loud moan, fingers flexing in your hair. 

“Careful, honey, I don’t want you to choke,” he tells you, but his voice has lost it’s usual commanding tone. He’ll let you do anything you want to him, even if it means gagging on cock- but he’ll do his best to be gentle with you verbally at least.

You get lost in the feeling of pleasuring him, closing your eyes and letting your mouth show him how much you’ve missed him… however, not in so many words. 

Actions speak volumes, especially in this case.

You continue working on your pussy too, eventually slipping two fingers into your wet core, which makes you moan around Wonwoo’s cock.

“Honey-” he groans.

You can tell that he’s on the verge of breaking, so you pull off his length, looking up at him while catching your breath. “Ready to fuck me now, daddy?”

“I’ve been ready all night,” he grins, reaching down to grab your hand and help you to your feet. 

He kisses you then, cupping your face and leaning forward, taking your breath away all over again. His palm flatens against the small of your back and he dips you backward- then you’re falling, a small squeal escaping you-

The fall is only an inch or two, and you hit the mattress, Wonwoo bearing down on your form almost immediately. You grab at his shoulders as his lips find yours, your legs wrapping around his lean hips to tug him closer.

His cock is still wet with your spit, and it rubs deliciously through your soaked folds, bumping your clit and making you moan into the kiss.

As impatient as Wonwoo seemed to be, he’s not quick to adjust himself against you- or at least, not quick enough for your liking, so you reach between your bodies and grab his cock, lining him up with your wet hole. 

Wonwoo grins against your lips, and in one motion, he sinks into your core.

You moan loudly, digging your nails into his strong shoulders and throwing your head back as he fills you perfectly, stretching out your walls.

Your fiance takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, finding your sweet spot.

He feels like heaven- you’re really not sure how long you’ll be able to last tonight, but that’s never mattered with Wonwoo. You have forever with this man, which means you can be as fast or slow as you’d like to be.

He begins to thrust in and out of your core, and it makes you cry out again, walls contracting around his cock. You can feel him so deeply, especially as he adjusts your legs, pushing your thighs closer to your chest.

“Wonwoo-” you whimper, not a care in the world for using a ‘correct’ title. Your fiance might enjoy the daddy kink, but he’s never been the type to punish you for slipping up and calling him something different.

It’s clear to both of you how far gone you are, and Wonwoo only grins against your throat, picking up his pace.

“How about you rub your clit for me, honey?” he asks. 

You’re not one to question him, and your hand slips between your bodies to seak out the sensitive nub. More sounds of pleasure escape you as you begin to rub yourself, and your moans only push Wonwoo to fuck you harder.

Each thrust has his cock hitting a spot deep inside of you, and it’s making you delirious. 

Wonwoo finds your free hand, threading your fingers and using you as leverage as he presses you against the mattress. His breath is hot on your throat, but soon he’s seaking out your lips again, and you eagerly kiss him as if your life depends on it.

There’s an orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, spurred on by your fingers on your clit and the cock filling you up with each rough thrust.

Wonwoo doesn’t need to check in on you, and you don’t need to tell him you’re close, you’re certain he can tell. He tightens his grip on your hand, a silent invitation to let go whenever you want.

Each drag of his cock against your inner walls draws you closer and closer to the edge, and when he breaks the kiss to lick your throat, it allows you to focus entirely on the pleasure between your legs.

“Fuck, daddy-” you whimper, back arching as you shift below him.

“I know, honey,” he groans. “Me too.”

“Yeah?” Your body jitters with near orgasmic bliss. “Can you cum with me?”

“Of course, just tell me when.”

“Please-” you moan, writhing against the sheets as he fucks you even harder. “Please, daddy- I want you to fill me up-”

Wonwoo groans, teeth dragging by the sensitive skin of your throat. 

“Please, please- fuck, I’m almost there-” you rub your clit harder, body tensing on the precipice of your orgasm-

“Shit,” Wonwoo tightens his grip on your hand to the point where it almost hurts- and even though he doesn’t say it, it’s clear to you that he’s reached his own high.

The thought that Wonwoo is so turned on he’s just cum before you - something that never happens - is enough to drag you over the edge, your core clamping down on his cock, eager to milk him for everything he’s worth while you cry out in ecstasy. 

He’s gasping against your throat, thrusts even deeper now- slow, steady little ruts as he coats your insides with him cum, filling you up perfectly. 

You get lost in the feeling of him, squeezing his hand back as a silent encouragement while your pussy continues to squeeze his cock, eager to get every last drop.

When he finally comes to a stop, he simply lays on top of you for a moment, the both of you breathing heavily.

“Wonwoo?”

“Yes, honey?”

“I’ve just remembered-” you pull your hand away from your clit, instead moving to stroke his hair, “What did Seungcheol mean about the penthouse you were looking at?”

Wonwoo lets out a small chuckle. “Do you really want me to spoil the surprise?”

“Yes, please.”

Your fiance pulls away from your throat, looking down at you. “I’ve been thinking we might need a bigger place… one that could accommodate a few extra rooms.”

“Extra rooms?” you cock a brow.

“For any kids we might have, you know, after we’re married.” 

Your entire body tingles with excitement. 

While the two of you have talked about children in a general manner before, nothing has ever been set in stone. But you suppose now that you’re engaged, it’s natural this sort of thing would be on Wonwoo’s mind.

“How do you feel about that?” Wonwoo asks.

“I feel like…” you swallow thickly, “I want you to fill me up again, and also that I should book a doctor's appointment to discuss going off birth control.”

“I can definitely help you with that first one,” Wonwoo grins, pressing chaste kisses all across your face while you giggle and hold him tighter.

“We’re really doing this,” you whisper.

Wonwoo’s thumb brushes by the ring on your wedding finger. “Honey, I couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone else.”

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I'm in love with Wonwoo what the hell

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🔮 preview. You pull away just as his lips are about to meet yours. “You know how appreciative I am whenever daddy gets me a present,” you say, acting innocent. This only makes him laugh, and he grabs the back of your head, pulling you into a passionate kiss. You know buying things for you does the same thing to Wonwoo that it does to you. He loves seeing the excitement in your eyes, the way you light up at gifts. He truly lives to provide for you. 

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, mentions of breeding kink/wanting to get reader pregnant, sugar daddy Wonwoo, daddy kink, soft dom!Wonwoo, oral, pussy eating, fingering, breif edging, squirting, groping, sickly sweet loved up sex, crying during sex cuz reader is so in love, mentions of pain kink, hair pulling, teasing, dirty talk, fucking on a kitchen counter, Wonwoo talks about reader getting ‘plump’ with pregnancy, he adores the ‘soft bits’, etc.  I petnames. (hers) honey (his) daddy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 4k I teaser wc. 300

🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader

bonus

“Can I take this off yet?” you ask, wobbling in your heels as you grab at the silk blindfold blocking your vision.

“Be patient, honey,” Wonwoo breathes in your ear, his hands firm on your hips as he guides you to whatever surprise destination he has in store for you tonight. 

Christmas is a week away, and the last time he blindfolded you like this was for your birthday. He’d taken you to a Mercedes dealership to let you choose any car you wanted. You have no clue what he has in store for you now, and you’re practically shaking with excitement. 

You know he’s driven you somewhere, and you’ve been in an elevator, so it must not be another car- your list of gift possibilities is somewhat thin. You have a hunch, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself just in case you’re wrong about where your fiance is leading you. 

Wonwoo’s lips find your throat, and his hands stop you in your tracks. His breath is hot by your ear a moment later, and he lets out something like a contented sigh. “Okay. Let me help you take this off.” 

His deft fingers work at the loose knot behind your head; soon the blindfold slips away.

Your eyes adjust to the light, and you blink while taking in the space in front of you. You’re in a large open-concept kitchen, a living room sprawled in front of you with views of the whole city. The decor is lavish luxury, and you recognize the design concept as a Choi Seungcheol special when you notice a specific lighting fixture that Cheol puts in all his expensive builds. 

“Wonwoo-” you breathe, mind spinning.

The man behind you flattens his chest against your back, wrapping his arms around your frame while he rests his head on your shoulder. “Do you like it?”

“Is this…”

“It’s ours,” your fiance confirms. “I wanted to show it to you on Christmas day, but I couldn’t help myself.”

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[ickadori]

Hiiii I love love loveeeee your sukuna and uraume fics, I keep rereading them!!

Had a kinda idea and would love if you could expand or share your thoughts

You said in one of your fics that reader would often go to uraume for sex if they were being punished by sukuna, well what would happen if sukuna walked in on them in the middle of it?

Would he just watch? Be a Bit angry? tell uraume what to do or to stop? Or maybe even punish uraume as well?

Hope your doing well, and looking forward to future stuff<33

cws for fem reader.

Sukuna didn’t often punish you solely due to the fact that you seldomly broke the rules that he had set in place for you.

Even if you had been foolish enough to test the bounds of The King of Curses’ patience when it came to you, there simply weren’t enough rules for you to go about breaking. There were only two rules that he had given you when you were first brought here so long ago - don’t cause harm to yourself, and don’t engage anyone besides himself and Uraume.

You weren’t too keen on hurting yourself, always having been especially sensitive to pain, even as little as a pinprick on your finger was enough to have you sniffling, and even if you had wanted to converse with the staff skittering around the palace, they had all been too terrified to interact with you, no one willing to give you so much as a glance in fear of incurring Sukuna’s wrath.

In total, you had only been punished two times, although you’re starting to think that Sukuna had gone especially easy on you before. You had been assigned to clean the entire upper left wing of the palace, the largest portion of the upstairs, and you had thought your fingers were going to fall off before he finally made you stop scrubbing already pristine floors. The other punishment had been barring you from the gardens, a pastime that he knew you loved. You’d spend most of your days walking the cobbled paths and aww’ing over the different flowers, and even watching the groundskeeper from a distance to keep them unaware of your presence lest they scurry off.

The punishments, which had seemed so cruel and painful in the moment, now pale in comparison to the new punishment that’s been bestowed upon you.

“Until you learn to take what’s given to you, you won’t be getting anything.”

Those were the words that he had left you with when you had been on the cusp of bliss, and nothing more. He had slipped out of you with a heart-shattering squelch and quickly placed his robe onto his broad shoulders, and left your chambers even quicker. It had been a restless night, thanks to him, and simply because you had been a bit too eager to finally take all of him - as if that was such a heinous crime that it warranted this level of punishment!

You had never been more miserable -not even when you had watched your village be razed to the ground- and Sukuna seemed bemused by your refusal to hide it. He smirked and chided you, even snickering with Uraume when the two of them caught you ogling so shamelessly, even going so far as to rocking in your seat.

Uraume always aligned themself with Sukuna when he was around, so them sharing joy over your suffering was to be expected, but Uraume succumbing to your whines and pleas the moment Sukuna left the palace was also to be expected.

~

Cornering them was easy enough - Uraume never strayed too far from your side whenever Sukuna wasn’t present. You had been in the gardens, gazing out at the colorful assortments of flowers before your mind had wandered to a past memory, a more lewd one, and suddenly you had been hyper aware of Uraume’s gaze on you.

It had lit your skin afire, blood rushing through your veins and making your head spin. You had practically collapsed in their arms when you neared them, and their hands, cold like ice, had quelled that fire so effortlessly, but there had been another one - one that Sukuna had lit and refused to put out.

“Uraume,” your voice comes out weak, a clear plea woven in between the dulcet tones, and shaky fingers reach out to curl around the belt of their kimono. “Can you.. can you help me?”

“Lord Sukuna has made your punishment known, and I am not inclined to end it early.” Their fingers wrap around your wrist, their grip unnaturally strong, and Uraume gives you a placid look. “It seems you’re still thinking about yourself - you greedy girl. Lord Sukuna’s pleasure should always come before your own—how many times must I tell you this?”

“But, Uraume!” Your whine sounds childish even to you, but the incessant throbbing between your legs is too great for you to care. “It isn’t fair.”

“That isn’t for you to decide.” They push your arms back by your sides, the action causing the floral kimono you wear to slip down a rounded shoulder. “If you behave for a bit longer, then I’m sure Lord Sukuna will—”

“—I don’t want Sukuna.” You’re certain that if you had said that in the earlier days of knowing Uraume, that they would have killed you without a second thought to Sukuna’s orders against harming you. “I want you, Uraume.”

They pause, their hands slackening around your wrists, and you take the opportunity to press your body flush against theirs, your breasts squished against their chest as your lips brush against theirs. “I need you.” Your breaths mix together. “Please - help me.”

There’s a beat of silence before they speak.

“…Lord Sukuna is not due back for another two nights.” Their voice is low, nearly silent, as if Sukuna could somehow witness his most loyal servant’s betrayal. “And he didn’t explicitly say that I wasn’t allowed to pleasure you,” their finger hooks into the crease of your kimono, and your breath quickens as they pull it down, slowly, until your chest is fully revealed. “But rather that he wouldn’t. So, I suppose..this should be fine.”

The chilled air bites at your exposed nipples, the buds quickly hardening, and Uraume puts a small gap between the two of you, a light flush working its way into their cheeks as they brush a finger over the hard bud. Their name leaves your mouth in a moan that they frequently called ‘wantonly’ when in a sour mood, and then your lips are pressing together, their hands working to undo your clothing while yours clutch onto theirs.

The kiss is dizzying -it always is with them- and you hardly notice your nude state when their tongue glides against your own, your mind fogging over as your lips move together. Their hand, cold as ice, clears the haze as it pushes against your stomach, fingers sliding lower until they’re drawing small, slow circles on your clit.

Your mouths part with a suctioned noise. “You poor fool,” Uraume gathers your slick on their fingers, the sheer amount of it making the both of you moan in astonishment, and they smear it over your folds before going back to your clit. “You’ve been suffering, haven’t you?” There’s an amused lilt to their voice, but you pay it no mind, too busy mouthing at the expanse of their neck as they all too easily slip two fingers into your drooling hole, thumb pressed firm to your throbbing nub.

You choke on a cry, shoulders tensing and toes curling in your geta sandals, and all it takes is one rub of their fingers against your walls to have you falling apart; eyes squeezed shut, lips parted, head tossed back, and back arched as you cum on their fingers.

Chants of Uraume leave you as they keep pumping their fingers, soft pads abusing that spot that never fails to turn you into a sloppy mess -something that they so frequently call you when you get like this- and their lips finding yours once again.

You quickly end up with your back against the flowers, mind too far gone to be upset over the broken stems and ruined petals. Uraume has taken to burrowing themself between your thighs, hands traveling up your waist and front to grope at your heaving breasts, mouth latched onto your cunt.

You’re sensitive - no doubt the result of Sukuna’s punishment, and every touch from Uraume is felt tenfold. Every swipe of their tongue sent a tingle of pleasure up your spine, every suckle on your clit made dots appear in your vision, and every squeeze and pinch of your breasts made your hole clench and ooze.

“Ura—” Your breath hitches when they groan against you, and you feel another high approaching, this one more intense than the last. Lithe fingers stretch you open, more than you’ve been stretched for weeks, and a skillful tongue flattens over your clit. You pull up tufts of grass and barely blossomed flowers as your hands scramble for purchase, your heels digging into the dirt.

Uraume speaks into your clit, the words lost on you, and your hands fly to their hair, fingers curling into the strands as something strong and paralyzing zips through you. Your muscles tense, tendons in your neck straining, eyes rolling, and then you’re relaxing just as fast, body slumping against the ground, lashes fluttering, and chest raising with soft breaths.

“Uraume..” You sigh, and the sun which had been steadily beaming its warm rays down onto the both of you is suddenly dimmed. You blink your eyes open, Uraume’s head slowly raising from between your thighs, and the both of you make a strangled noise at the sight of Sukuna towering over the both of you.

Two sets of eyes drag over the both of your forms, lingering on Uraume’s slick coated face and the mess between your thighs. His gaze collides with yours, and if your body didn’t feel as if it was made out of jelly, you would have hidden your face away into Uraume’s neck at the sharp look.

“Looks like I’ve got two brats to teach a lesson now.” Uraume flinches at the newly acquired title, and you flinch at the dark grin he casts down on the both of you.

~

“Oh, don’t sleep on me now,” a heavy smack lands on your ass, and you huff out a breath at the sting, tired eyes struggling to stay open. Uraume is laid beside you in a similar state - body flushed, hair disheveled, face mushed against the sheets to stifle their noises.

“You had a measly two days left to go.” Sukuna directs his words at you, his hips snapping forward to sink his cock into Uraume. “But you couldn’t keep this needy little thing in check.” Three thick fingers slam into the ‘needy little thing’ in question, and you keen, wet lashes squeezing shut. “And you.”

One hand grabs a fistful of white hair, and Uraume groans as they’re pulled up, lips coated in their own drool. “My most loyal falling victim to pussy of all things - pathetic.”

“L-Lord Sukuna!” Uraume’s hole is stretched to its limit around two cocks, and you feel a sob fight its way out of your throat at the sight. That’s what had caused all this - Sukuna freely being so rough and brutish with Uraume, not thinking twice before stuffing them full of everything he had, yet not doing the same for you.

“‘S not fair!” You cry, his fingers curling upwards to mash against that gummy spot inside you. “Ryomen!”

“Shut your mouth, girl.” Another hand moves to fiddle with your clit, and you feel an orgasm approaching, but you know he won’t let you have it. “You’ve talked enough, haven’t you?” His fingers spread and scissor inside you, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge before he’s slipping his hands away, a dark snicker leaving him as he steals your bliss away.

Uraume chooses then to moan out, your orgasm transferred over to them, and you feel painfully empty, hips pushing back in a silent beg as you whine into the sheets.

“I’ll fuck you until you’re sick of it,” he speaks against Uraume’s ear but his eyes are locked on yours. “So the next time she whines for you to touch this greedy pussy of hers while she’s on punishment,” his fingers slip their way back inside, “you’ll remember this and think twice.” His eyes narrow on you. “And you’ll watch me give them what you so desperately crave.”

[jrreigns]

Letters from the Other Side

The sea washes over the sides of the steamship, taking with it the algae stuck to it. You almost hope the waves can take you with it, the nerves getting the better of you as you leant over the rail. Come see me, you read the letter over and over again, your stomach fluttering, I want to see you.

CW: Post-war Levi x fem!reader, civilian!reader

A/N: Some post-war Levi goodness after the angst I’ve posted this past month. ~2.5k words of fluff and romance. If this does well, I’ll probably write the super romantic smut next.

Credit to @cafekitsune for the dividers!

Three years after the Rumbling and things were starting to return to a sense of normalcy in the Stohess district. At least as normal as things can get when the twisted mentality of the Yeagerists and their seizing control of the military dominated the news. Your mother and father tell you not to worry, but you’ve been worried ever since the walls disappeared and the Survey Corps regiment disbanded.

Or rather, you have only really been worried over a single person, the man with the raven locks and the dull gray eyes, dull eyes that glittered when you spoke to him. You were still a woman, and a woman has intuition for those sorts of things like attraction, and Captain Levi couldn’t help how flustered he got whenever he saw you. Your father was the owner of a blacksmith company, and you often bumped into Levi along with Commander Smith several times a month.

Humanity’s strongest, you’d think in awe, where you had imagined a big brute, now you saw the man for what he was.

Why’d he come along was always unknown to you, but as your father and the commander spoke privately in another room, you offered small conversation and tea while he waited. Where small talk began, somehow a deep appreciation for the other bloomed, and the visits began to feel like the visits of the suitors that bombarded your home on occasion. He’d gift you single flowers, it’s all I can afford, he’d say meagerly. You’d thank him with a kiss on the cheek each and every time. And each and every time a ferocious tinge of red would adorn his face.

The timing never seemed to be right with either of you, it always seemed like when one was ready to take the leap, the other had other obligations waiting. Wait for me, were his selfish last words to you and you nodded your head as you gave him a final good-bye.

It had already been three years. You were already on the cusp of giving up.

It had been a nice breezy morning when you received his first letter. The unfamiliar stamps had caught both you and your parents off-guard, but nonetheless they gave you the privacy to open it. There, in the small garden of your home, tears welled up in your eyes as you skimmed through it.

It was a letter from Captain Levi.

Or rather Levi, just Levi, as the letter so said. I have told them to stop calling me captain, but these brats never learn. You giggled inwardly at his words, tears welling up in your eyes. You read it one more time, much slower this time, familiarizing yourself with his handwriting, the slant in his letters, his signature, everything. You familiarized yourself with the names Gabi and Falco, children you did not know but instantly loved with the way they cared for Levi.

At the very bottom, a hopeful wish that you will respond, signed next to his name.

Of course you will.

Your father stood confused as you gathered parchment and a pen to write, finding it odd that his moody daughter was suddenly so lively. Perhaps it’s the engagement, he thought, and let you be.

Your ring twinkled under the summer sun, and yet nothing has caused more glee than the very letter you were responding to. You wrote about the situation in Paradis, you wrote about the kindness of the queen, and you wrote about how business was booming for your father, despite the war having been over. The thought saddened you, but you quickly sign the letter and add a note that you excitedly await his next letter.

It’s not that you fail to mention your engagement, rather some deep part of you didn’t want to mention it. Your betrothed was a good man, hand picked by your father, you had accepted to keep his worries at bay that you wouldn’t end up husbandless and with no children.

How quickly Levi’s letters can have you questioning your familiar duties.

We restored some of the land ruined by the war, Levi writes, many foreigners are starting to settle here again.

You can’t help the sense of admiration that fills you up. It filled you up when he’d visit with the commander, and it still filled you up now. A military man, you wonder if he’s still as strong as when you met him. Humanity’s strongest, you wondered if he still thought about you and the flowers he’d gift you.

I’d like to visit it one day, you write, perhaps a change of scenery would be nice. All this yeagerist talk has me going mad.

I’d like to visit you one day, you will yourself to write, but you don’t. You had been lovestruck years ago, perhaps the captain no longer harbored the same feelings. Perhaps the captain has found someone new, perhaps the captain has married.

Sadness consumes you. After all, you were just friends back then, right?

You trash your letter and write a plainer one instead. It hadn’t even reached half a page when you sealed it, wrote his address on the front of it and set it aside for the postman to pickup tomorrow.

“Honey,” you can hear your mother call, “James is here to see you.” You force your best smile to greet your husband-to-be.

It’s weeks before the next letter arrives. The pretty orange and red tree leaves were beginning to fall, a cozy chill running through the district. Your wedding preparations were already underway when the postman calls out to you, a single letter in his hands, the stamps it bore already familiar to you.

More talk of restoration, recovery, Gabi and Falco’s shenanigans, when finally you reach the last bit of the letter. I don’t mean to bother you, Levi writes, your last letter felt abrasive. I understand if things have changed. Everything has changed.

You wonder what goes through Levi’s mind when he writes to you.

No, things have not changed. Things still felt the same, at least they did to you. Still, you couldn’t ignore your engagement anymore as you saw your mother debate through wedding ribbons in the distance and you finally will yourself to write and tell him the news.

I’m engaged, it feels awful to write it, my engagement is a long one, though, and so I’m sorry if the letter was short. I must’ve been busy.

You write of other things, of the rising tension amongst good folks like your family who didn’t want to fuel another war, and the yeagerists. You write of how the talks of peace by the ambassadors (who you found out were actually part of the same regiment as him) were falling on deaf ears.

I’d like to see you, you finally write, I’d like to see what the other side looks like.

You add the last bit in a final moment of hesitation, sign your name and set it aside, a deep breath falling from your lips.

“You’re changing the wedding date again, and to a later date might I add,” your father bellows out to you.

“Father, please,” you reply, exasperated, trying to escape the dining room and into your own, a new letter in hand, “I will get married in time, what’s the rush?”

“The rush is that you’re not young anymore, I beg you to reconsider.”

You shut the door behind you, shaky fingers coming to pry the letter open. You force yourself to read slowly, absorbing every single inked word coming from Levi’s fingertips.

You skip his polished words of annoying governmental policies being implemented on his side and go straight to the heart of the letter, his real response to you.

Congratulations on your engagement, he begins, I’m surprised you haven’t even married yet.

That? That is what he has to say? You scoff, a slight irritation blooming.

I don’t look like before—I’ve lost an eye and my right hand is destroyed, his letter continues, I look awful.

I’m not humanity’s strongest anymore.

You don’t know why these words strike you deeply. Years and a great distance separate you from what Levi is or was for that matter, yet it isn’t Levi’s exterior that ever affected you in the first place. It was the small talks and the small gifts, it was his tinged cheeks and his intrepid way of speaking around your people who have only seen the refined things in life.

You could never look awful to me, you write in your response, a wave of heat flaring up on your cheeks, you’re just trying to get me not to go.

Levi’s letters continue well into the deeper part of winter, the leaves have long since fallen, snow beginning to gather amongst the branches. The winters where he lived were harsh, and he writes of how they were causing the ache in his knee to worsen. You spend some of your money to send him some ointment you purchased from a local medic.

He writes to you of how the snow reminds him of when the Survey Corps would serve hot chocolate on the off chance. You send him chocolate you bargain off a local vendor.

The signs of Levi’s homesickness don’t escape you, even if he doesn’t admit it.

I could send you Stohess’s entire stock of goods if I can, you respond to his letters of thanks.

What would I do with all that, he responds to yours, breaking you into a fit of silent laughter.

I’ve missed your awful humor, you write casually. You wonder if you should trash this letter and begin a new one, but you don’t. I’ve missed you, you finish writing.

The budding roses in your garden remind you of your predicament.

“As much as I respect you,” James begins, “I won’t accept any other change to the wedding. If you won’t marry me then I’ll find someone who will.”

You comprehend his irritation, even if you don’t fully understand it.

He leaves you on your garden bench, exiting through the gate, just in time for the postman to arrive. Your feelings don’t subside, in fact they linger as you read Levi’s next letter.

Upon opening it, nervousness hits you as you see just how short the letter is. Policy change, annoying policy change.

The ambassadors have told me that postage to Paradis will be barred soon. Your eyes widen. Despite the nice spring breeze, your body suddenly feels so cold.

If I don’t hear from you again, I wanted to wish you a happy marriage. Your eyes well with tears, but it’s his next words that move you.

Unless you change your mind. Come see me. I want to see you. Just as you’re about to trash the envelope, a small flower catches your eye. It was dried up and rather lonely, but you hold it close to you as small tears slip down your cheeks.

The next morning, you try to give the postman your next letter but he just shakes his head in response.

“Apologies ma’am, the military has ordered a full stop for all international mail.” You thank him anyway, despite how distraught you feel.

Your wedding is within two weeks. The white dress in the corner of your room haunts you. Although lace with spring flowers were added to match the season, it only made it look like the kind of dress you wore on your deathbed.

There was no more rescheduling your wedding date, there were no more letters to look forward to, you could only look over the last letter, his final request.

You longed for Levi. Did he long for you?

Come see me, I want to see you.

Despite the spring air, a heat that resembled summer humidity burned through you.

“It’s a one way trip if you decide to head to the other side,” the hefty man tells you, “military has barred all incoming and outgoing mail, I wouldn’t be surprised if they bar incoming ships soon.”

This was it, the point of no return. You had written your last letter addressed to your parents—an apology for doing what you are doing. No, your heart hasn’t seized its rampant beating since Levi’s last letter. You need to see him.

You board without much of a glance back.

For days, sea sickness threaten to put a damper on your good (albeit nervous) mood, your only fuel the letters stored in your small suitcase, rereading them every night as the darkness of the ocean tormented you.

Finally, the crewmen announce that you will be arriving in the morning. The sun was setting off in the horizon—you clutched his last letter as you take a brief moment to absorb this feeling of resilience that surged through you. You’d get to see Levi soon, you’ve waited enough. Here, near the rails of the ship, you long for him, nerves filling your stomach.

The sea washes over the sides of the steamship, taking with it the algae stuck to it. You almost hope the waves can take you with it, the nerves getting the better of you as leant over the rail. Come see me, you read the letter over and over again, your stomach fluttering. I want to see you.

Past the plethora of persons disembarking, past the many political volunteers ushering about far-off dreams of peace that were unachievable, you navigate through unknown territory in an effort to find him. Fingers pointed, people spoke foreign directions as they glanced at the address on your envelope. It has all brought you here.

Face to face with a young girl, too young to be married.

“Ah—sorry,” you begin, “I was told Levi Ackerman lived here.”

“Yeah he does,” she begins suspiciously, “I’ll get him.” The door closes again and already you feel out of your element. Perhaps this was a mistake, you wish the ground can swallow you whole. Peering eyes look at you through a nearby window, ones that belonged to the young girl who just spoke to you, and another who you haven’t met.

“That’s her? No way,” you can hear them say. Suddenly the door opens, and dull gray eyes that bore a hint of annoyance soften and make way for a familiar glitter that reminded you of simpler times.

“Levi.”

He whispers your name, suddenly hiding his maimed hand, trying to get you to see his good side, the side with his working eye. But you don’t see that. You see the man who gifted you flowers, you see the man whose cheeks you once kissed.

You will yourself to move and you do, grabbing the hand behind him and crashing into him in an embrace. Levi’s face is red, and he glances at the window to see Gabi and Falco gawking at them. He waves them off annoyingly and they give him a thumbs-up as they pull away.

Hands come to wrap around you, lips kissing your forehead.

“You came,” he whispers into your hair.

“Of course.”

[webslingingslasher]

omg cherry is so real bc i always get nervous to kiss my bf even tho he’s literally my bf

i cant imagine that BUT WITH FRAT PETER. he’s so- AJCNDNDNNDD i’m not even a shy person but he would make me soooooooooooo red faced shy like🤭 why is he so fine

frat!peter asks cherry to kiss him all the time and that is a fact!!!!

--

'kiss me.' peter's stare is too intense, you glance to the ground, then to the kitchen cabinet behind him. peter inches the hem of your shirt up, his thumb teases the skin it finds.

'kiss me.' you peek at his face, he's got that kiddish smile that makes your stomach heavy and knees weak. you can't handle him, you feel hot all over. your silence is met with a sharp jerk of your hip, his palm holds you close.

'kiss me.' you can't look away, he's leaning in.

'kiss me.' a brush over your cheek, his words dance around the cusp of your ear, it's whispered for you only. 'kiss me, please?'

you'd do anything if he adds a breathy please at the end, you swallow harshly, 'okay.'

peter's happy, smiling in your face like you agreed to a sleepover. you wait for a second, oh, he wants you to initiate. you pull at his shoulder, you're not confident, you rest your hand on his, over your waist, it earns a raised eyebrow.

you pull away, how are you supposed to grab him?

'i know how to kiss you, so like, don't think i don't know what i'm doing.' it's half true.

'i didn't say anything. i'm waiting on my kiss.'

you tug at the side of his open jacket, the zipper presses into your palm. it works, you're simultaneously pulling him closer and down. you push up on your toes, peter licks his bottom lip while he stares at your mouth. 

you fall closer, peter’s just begging for one more inch. instead, he watches you hesitate. one day you’re going to be brave enough to just pull him in and lay one on him, one day you’re going to find him, sit on his lap and makeout with him until his vision goes spotty. 

today you need a little more help. and that’s what he’s here for. 

‘baby,’ it rolled off his tongue, he didn’t care to catch it either. ‘please kiss me.’ you melt, nodding and meeting him the rest of the way, peter doesn’t even get a second before you fall away from him. 

‘you had me begging and that's all i get?’ you avoid his eyes again, a half shrug. your back bounces off the counter, ‘if… if you think you can lift me up here i’ll do it again.’ peter wants to scoff, how dare you challenge his strength? 

you squeal on the take off, peter’s hands rest under your armpits while you’re raised up like a child, your thighs feel cold on the counter. it doesn’t last long, peter pushes your knees open before sliding between them, hands hooked under your thighs to pull you right to the edge. 

your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, peter’s right up on you and you really, really like it. 

‘i held up my end, where’s my kiss?’ you have better access, you wrap your arms around his neck and tug him closer, almost instinctively, your left hand pulls at his curls. peter’s about to ask you again, you beat him to the punch, lifting your head to meet his mouth.

peter’s bottom lip covers your top lip perfectly, you weren’t a kissing expert by any means but from the little experience you’ve had, peter blows everyone out of the water. kissing peter is like having an indefinite time limit, everything ceases to exist outside him when you’re in his hold.  

you wait, but peter’s not asking. you will, your mouth opens slightly, peter copies in an instant. your thighs clench when he lets out a groan, in return peter squeezes your knee.

 peter just learned you like his noises. 

[ma1dita]

trouble always finds me

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 1.7k 

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he could tell you were trouble from the day he met you. Luke’s perspective on trouble & how they first met! think trouble’s origin story (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

warnings: none, fluff? Mr. D being a clueless dad lol also guys they’re 14 here

a/n: welcome back to the trouble!verse hehe i was inspired by Mr. D being a bit of a jerk to Percy so that the kid doesn’t off himself. Similar concept but with Luke after he first gets to camp— another version for why trouble!reader calls him angelface coming soon

(posted 1/19/24, erm unedited and not beta’d so forgive me in advance)

—

You were always trouble, Luke knew that from the day he met you. 

Walking into Camp Half-Blood, worn out and weary after days of trying to not become harpy food, his arm was slung protectively over Annabeth’s shoulder as they were led onto the campgrounds. So many pity-filled eyes were focused on them after hearing what happened to Thalia, but the camp seemed promising, filled with other demigods who can resonate with what they’ve experienced. Luke thought it was too good to be true, but anything’s better in comparison to the streets they came from. You, however, looked at them in interest from afar, a playful expression on a pretty face watching their every move like him and Annie were shiny new toys to play with.

He was so sure something was off with you. 

Had to be, from the deranged glimmer in your eye that would appear when something bad would happen at Camp. He’d seen it in action a couple of times before you set your sights on him— setting off fireworks during capture the flag, replacing salt with sugar in the kitchens, cutting Mr. D’s hair in his sleep; all of this causing campers and staff alike to run amok and figure out who to penalize. Each time he’d find you enjoying how it all played out, excitement brimming on the cusp of revealing yourself as the culprit as he watched you bite your tongue. But as a mischievous kid himself, he wondered why you hid it. You preferred to orchestrate the show, to make a spectacle for your personal entertainment, and with a smile too soft to be considered guilty, you were a convincing actress. 

The other campers in 11 told him you’d been unclaimed for half a year now, keeping to yourself and making a safe haven within the busy cabin. You were a klutz to say the least, bringing chaos to Camp Half-Blood with a cool disposition, and you hardly seemed interested the one time Luke tried to say hi as he took the bunk next to yours. 

So why the hell wouldn’t you lay off of him?

At first it was small, shoulder bumps and raised eyebrows whenever he piped up in a conversation. That, he could deal with. Luke’s a tough guy, having gone through more than a typical 14-year old would. 

But then it just got annoying.

Glitter in his shampoo, his laundry load dyed purple, and shoelaces knotted together to make him stumble— things meant to be more of an inconvenience rather than an actual problem. Luke wasn’t sure what to make of it, or what to tell you. No one wants to be the new kid creating trouble, but you didn’t seem to have a problem with that.

Maybe you were a Hermes kid like him, but of that, Luke wasn’t so easily convinced—months of living in 11 would mean you’d learn all of the tricks of the trade, so it couldn’t automatically mean that you were related (a part of him also hoped you weren’t be half-siblings, or else the fact he couldn’t stop thinking of you would be slightly awkward). Perhaps a child of Apollo? When you weren’t being difficult, he’s seen you sprinkled in sunlight, usually humming a tune under your breath. Yesterday it was a song from the Sound of Music, and though he only remembers bits of a memory from a movie night with his mom years ago, he put his combat gear on slower just to hear you finish the song. 

Whatever you were, it was bound to be troublesome.

—

At this point in life, Luke hasn’t had many comforts while on the run. To him there’s no such thing as action without reason, without meaning.  Five years of running and not looking back makes this son of Hermes realize that he hasn’t had a chance to take a breath until he got here. It’s hard to let down your guard when you’re always supposed to be keeping watch.

He wriggles under his covers trying to relax himself before bed, purple socks sticking out of the scrappy hand-me-down blanket, and he hears a small giggle from the bed next to his. Luke shifts his weight onto his side, eyes darting to your direction in the quiet of the dark cabin.

“Nice socks.”

He blinks. Were you talking to him? His toes wiggle playfully, prompting more of your melodious laughter as he chews at his lip before he responds.

“Guess I’m getting used to them.”

“You’re getting used to a lot of things around here. That’s good,” you whisper, and thinks he can see you concocting something sinister in that brain of yours—he’s on the edge of the mattress hanging onto your every word as he realizes this is the most you’ve spoken to him.

“You did this. Why?” he says, more of a statement than a question. Why would you go out of your way for someone like him?

“Are you mad about it? Luke, right?” you mutter, a calm expression on your face shrouded in moonlight, and for a second he wonders if you actually don’t know his name until he notices the upwards quirk of your lip. 

Luke catches himself then, and the realization hits him like a blow to the chest— he’s not angry at all. If anything, he hasn’t had the time to feel anything negative with the antics you’ve been pulling. You’ve proven to be quite the distraction to his circumstances, and he can’t remember the last time he’s thought about Thalia or his mom since he got here. The melancholy falls on his countenance like a better-fitting blanket than the one he has on, and your words pull him from his thoughts before they can suffocate him again.

“Sorry about your sister. I lost someone right before I got here too. My mom.” 

This, he can tell, is not acting. Your eyes flicker to a polaroid strapped in the space underneath the top bunk above your head, two blurry figures huddled together in a memory.

“I’m sorry.” He’s not sure what to say. In the silence that follows, he swallows audibly. Everyone’s been worried about Annabeth, including himself that he hadn’t even thought of his own emotions being on display for everyone to see. Luke never thought you of all people would notice.

You shrug, “S’not your fault. I know when people are acting though. If you know I’m the one who’s been starting shit, why haven’t you told anyone?”

Luke almost laughs at that, a rough exhale leaving his lungs as he watches your hands clutch your quilt.

“It’s pretty entertaining, I guess. You’re annoying, but I don’t mind it. Kept my mind off of things.”

He watches you smile in the shadows now, and it shines—all lips, teeth, and sheer mirth that makes his chest feel a little lighter. A real smile from you, one that doesn’t hide your true intentions.

“I’m glad. Mine too.” 

The next thing you do confuses him further, but from what he’s gathered you’re always full of surprises. You chuck your quilt across the space between your bunks, and the end of it smacks him in the face as he grunts.

“Here. Keep it,” you chuckle a bit loudly, the both of you hearing a Shhhhh… from somewhere in the dark cabin.

“What… Why? Are we friends now?” Luke mumbles jokingly, inhaling the soft scent of berries and fresh linen. His purple laundry load smelled like this too.

“No.”

“Then why are you giving me your stuff?” he says, but still curls up underneath the handmade quilt stitched from memories of a past life, of motherly love and gentle hands. He doesn’t have anything like this, so he settles into this feeling of comfort instead, even if it wasn’t his memory to hold. You go quiet at the sight of him, eyes fluttering and chin tucked into the pink and purple fabric, and he looks as soft as a normal 14 year old boy should.

“It’s getting boring in here. Gonna have to change it up soon, I think,” you mumble, turning away and shutting your eyes before he can say anything else.

—

The next day, you get caught putting a month’s supply of bubble bath into the lake, but Luke’s convinced you did it on purpose. All of camp is standing on the shore, watching you wave at them from a river tube as Chiron and Mr. D yell at you in exasperation—finally revealing yourself as the troublemaker they’ve been searching for.

“Get on the beach this instant, young lady! You have no idea how much trouble you’ve put us through!” Mr. D’s voice echoes across the lake, his immortal form almost filtering through his frustration before you laugh in his face, unthreatened by the Olympian.

“Good thing I get it from you. Hello, dad!”

Jaws drop as everyone turns to look at Mr. D, the realization hitting his face as he points at you, his brain moving a mile a minute. Though you resemble your mother, your actions are all him. You revel in the grand reaction, looking up to see a purple thyrsus surrounded by grape leaves float over your head.

“Nice outfit, kid. I don’t think purple is your color. She do that to you too?” Mr. D notes Luke’s wine colored cargos and socks clashing against the harsh orange of his shirt as he pushes past him, scratching his head at the idea of another kid. Poor guy said two was the limit in a lifetime and he gets a grinning teenage girl who dares him to do something about it. He hasn’t raised a lot of girls….

“I don’t know. I guess trouble always seems to find me,” Luke laughs lightly, watching kids of all ages jump into the bubbly lake water happily. The glowing ember of his eyes are relaxed for the first time in a while— an inviting flame catching your own as you stare at him from across the sudsy water. Trouble, he thinks, a smile settling onto his face—how fitting.

He’s spent a lot of time running. But perhaps this time, he’s finding reasons to want to stay.

—

"After all, we are nothing more or less than what we choose to reveal." - Sylvia Plath

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[charlietheepicwriter7]

I'm obsessive over my Constantine Jr Au (which still needs a fic name for, I'm open to suggestions) because

this is a cranky danny. he's spent years fighting with no end in sight, with parents who he can't trust and his only companions never truly understanding what he's going through.

he vapes CBD for the pain he's constantly in. he drank alco/hol once to help him sleep, but his parents smelt it on his breath and, just like with their research, took that to believe EVERYTHING they'd ever suspected about danny to be true: that he drinks, he does dru/gs, he's in a gang. the only thing they've never suspected their son of--being a ghost--is the one thing he actually does.

then, right on the cusp of eighteen and freedom, he gets outed. AND transformed into a seven-year-old.

this is not a danny who is willing to play at being a child. and if anyone tries to, they're in for a foul time.

Danny was 17, transformed into a 7 year old and hides in Bludhaven, and is 8 when the police finally figure out that, hey, this weird kid who keeps altering us to crime scenes is usually right on the money about who the killer is, we should investigate that. Officer Grayson is on the case!

And discovers that he absolutely can't STAND this kid.

He thought he liked kids! Everyone thought he liked kids! but this kid...

This isn't called the Constantine Jr AU because Danny is a supernatural detective, or because Danny might be Constantine's kid. Its because Danny is an unrepentant little bas/tard and he makes it everyone's problem.

Danny vapes and blows bubblegum smoke in Grayson's face.

He takes out a flask and Grayson's grabs it, learning its full of orange juice. Danny then takes out a second flask, this one with vod/ka.

He wears a trenchcoat he found in the trash (the same trenchcoat Nightwing wears in DC vs Vampires, if you know you know) but the end and the sleeves are cut off for his hands and legs. the pockets are roughly around his knees.

Grayson is desperate to figure out more about this kid, but he doesn't go to batman because, time-line wise, this is right before red hood starts running around. Jason is dead/alive-in-hiding, Tim is Robin, and Dick is mad about it. (ages-- Bruce: ? Nightwing: 24 Jason: 19 Tim: 15 Danny: 8 Damien: 7-8)

he doesn't really bond with the kid until they're both kidnapped by a gang for hostages, and Danny's big kid emotions get a hold of him (he thought he could escape them bc he's an adult, he's gone through worse, but nope! child brain chemistry). Grayson is worried that he's hurt and in pain, but Danny confesses that he's always in pain. he has nerve damage all over his body, and the only thing he really trusts is CBD. He feels like shit for taking his juul away, but more importantly, because he's been treating Danny like a irritant and just a little kid.

they get rescued and Grayson tries to take him back to his home, but Danny reveals he's homeless, saying something like "I sleep where it suits me, just drop me off whereever."

Absolutely not, Grayson is taking kid back to his place for a bed, food, and a shower, in whatever order the kid wants.

Danny stays semi-perminantly at his apartment, but Nightwing tries not to push it, because this kid practically screams flight risk. unfortunately, the paparazzi have nothing better to do and snap a pick of Grayson and Danny getting dinner together, speculating that Dick's taken after Bruce

Danny doesn't care too much; I think his ghost form is the same, if glitchy, so his parents don't know about the deaging. Grayson is mildly panicking, but its not like he HASN'T been considering adopting the evil troglodyte. Even Bruce, Tim, and Alfred aren't the problem.

No, the problem is the Red Hood, a crime boss who just cut 8 people's heads off, seeing what looks like Nightwing pulling an innocent kid into the neverending fight against crime and Seeing Green.

Edit: Had to censor sh!t because ths wasn't showing up in the tags

[enmi-land]

౨ৎ ANGEL BABY

──── 𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖺 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗈𝗈

2024 pairing. 김선우 x fem!member oc cw. mentions of dieting & body image req. mila babying sunoo. ❨ back to LIBRARY ?! ❩

MILA WASN’T USED TO TAKING CARE OF OTHER PEOPLE, especially when she had grown up learning to be independent — to function without the presence of people who she could rely on, only to realise she was more lonely than anything else. So when she would innately baby her boyfriends and spoil them with affection, she surprised even herself with how natural to felt.

To care for someone, to do something kind for them, to be able to put a smile on their faces… Those were the things that Mila whole-heartedly believed she was here on this earth to do.

“Say, ‘ahhh.’” Mike lifted a fork to Sunoo’s lips, which had a chunk of her fluffy homemade pancakes covered in maple syrup and whipped cream at the end of it, topped with a sliced strawberry that would fall of any second now.

Sunoo laughed slightly before obediently allowing the girl to feed him, humming in delight as the pancake melted across his tongue in a puddle of sweetness. Mila smiled brightly, eyes sparkling with adoration as they took in the sight of his puffed cheeks and the sound of his little chirps. It wasn’t often that she looked at someone and thought, ‘I want to pinch his cheeks.’ But Sunoo had always been an exception.

“Is it good?” Mila asked. Her tone had changed to resemble the cooing that one would make to a baby. And why wouldn’t it? Sunoo was adorable, and he was technically her baby.

Sunoo nodded, his hair bouncing slightly form the movement. Mila giggled as he put his thumbs up. “It’s good!”

“Have some more.” Mila said as she poked her fork through the half-eaten pancakes on the plate. She lifted the fork up to Sunoo’s lips once again, repeating the action she had been doing for the past half an hour. And yet, it wasn’t boring or tedious in the slightest. She couldn’t think of anything she’d rather be doing.

“I think I ate too much…” Sunoo groaned as he lay down on Mila’s bed, placing a hand over his stomach. He had finished the whole plate of pancakes that Mila had made for him, unable to resist the sweetness of the fluffy treat. He pouted. “I’m so full.”

Mila giggled happily as she lay next to him, throwing her arms around him and resting her cheek against his shoulder, nuzzling it slightly. “That’s good.”

“Until I end up gaining weight, you mean,” Sunoo sighed. “I was supposed to go on diet…”

Mila immediately raised her head, a stern expression on her face. “No. You’ve already been eating less than normal. Who cares about gaining weight? It’s more important that you’re happy and healthy— and we both know you were eyeing those snacks that Jake and Riki were eating last night.”

Sunoo pouted. “But still… I should lose some of my baby fat. Especially on my face.”

“Nooooooo…” Mila leaned down to peck Sunoo’s cheek, before brushing away the hair from his face. She looked into his eyes, cupping his cheeks which she adored so much. “What about your perfect cheeks? We’d lose a national treasure if you lost any more weight… What would happen then?” She gently squished his face together. “No. I can’t live without these cheeks.”

Sunoo’s pout was replaced with a bright smile, his eyes crinkling into a familiar pair of crescent moons. “Do you like my cheeks that much?”

Mila didn’t hesitate to respond, “Of course I do.” She littered small pecks across his face, covering his skin in her love, savouring the small giggles he released in return. She pulled away, eyes sincere as they looked into his. “I love everything about you. Don’t forget that.”

Sunoo smiled, nodding in agreement. “Okay.”

He didn’t know how he would ever forget. Not when Mila was holding him so gently, as if she was holding the cusp of the world in her hands. Not when she brought his head to her chest and ran her hands through his hair while whispering how much she loved him. Not when she was calling him “baby,” “honey,” “sweetie” — every sweet name she could possibly think of — while showering him in kisses.

“This is nice,” Sunoo hummed, burying his face further into Mila’s chest. “Thank you, byeol-ah.”

Mila smiled, resting her cheek on the top of Sunoo’s head while looking at the ceiling, imagining the bright sun shining down on them through the roof. “Anything for you, xīngān.”

xīngān (“心肝”) lit. trnalsated as “heart and liver” but is a strong term of endearment more close to the english meaning of “my heart and soul”

[frvnkcastles]

FILL THE VOID ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: Struggling with BPD, you’re determined to not get attached to anyone again, but that quickly changes when you meet Frank.

Warnings: BPD, suicide ideation, language, hurt/comfort

Word count: 2.4k

Author’s note: Long time no see :) I’ve talked about this before but in addition to C-PTSD, I also struggle with borderline personality and I’ve started to talk about it with my therapist and it’s bringing up some feelings. Sooo I obviously had to write about it and insert Frank into the scenario to make myself feel better. I hope this resonates with someone else as well! <3

You had sworn to yourself you weren’t going to fall for anyone else ever again. You weren’t going to let anyone in, wouldn’t allow anyone to get close to you and unravel you and all your baggage. It was simply too much, bound to end in pain and abandonment and you couldn’t put yourself through that cycle for the millionth time.

Obviously, when you met Frank, he made that plan plenty hard to put into action. He was too charming for his own good, and he didn’t even know it. Really, he wasn’t looking for anything romantic and he certainly didn’t mean to sweep you off of your feet, yet he ended up doing exactly like that.

You were an idiot to think you wouldn’t get attached in one night. That was all it was supposed to be — just two strangers in your preferred albeit dingy bar, having a drink and chatting for the hell of it. You couldn’t deny that he was easy on the eyes, and little did you know, he thought about the same about you, but getting to know him more was what did the final nail in the coffin. You had your history of impulsive hook-ups, but you were really trying your best to ditch that unsafe habit. Somehow, connecting beyond the physical level was worse.

Your first mistake was asking his name. ”Frank”, he uttered out with that gravelly tone you were enjoying all too much, not bothering to do the whole handshake routine as he gulped down a swig of his beer and then looked over to you expectantly. You introduced yourself in return, but your mind was already wondering what Frank entailed, what kind of man you were on the cusp of learning about, and the curiosity was driving you crazy.

”So, who exactly is Frank Castle?” you queried, resting your jaw against your hand as you admired the man who started to look more and more delicious under the yellowy lights of the bar. He had a prickly stubble adorning his jawline and his hair was growing gloriously on the top, and there was something enchanting about his wide nose and the way he scrunched it up every single time he took a sip of his drink.

”Uhh…” He seemed reluctant to talk about his history, and you supposed you did come off a little strong. That should have been your sign to back off and be glad you dodged a bullet, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

”Sorry, don’t mean to pry”, you chuckled awkwardly, wiping your hair away from your face and looking down at your hands to avoid his stare.

”Nah, it’s alright”, he was quick to reassure you, something about the soft tone setting your soul alight as you looked back up at him. ”Just… ain’t a very happy story to share, y’know? Don’t wanna dampen the mood”, he continued, and you nodded in understanding before breaking into a teasing smile.

”And what mood is that?” you wondered before wetting your lips, and taking note of the sweep of your tongue, Frank once again found himself speechless before managing a chuckle, one that sounded almost nervous.

”I dunno, you tell me. ’M just enjoyin’ the company of a pretty lady right now”, he shrugged. Again, he hadn’t been looking for anything romantic, but he couldn’t deny being drawn to you already, and lately, he had challenged himself to put himself out there more. He would always miss his wife, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to find company in someone else after mourning her for years.

The compliment went straight to your head, feeding your already developing attachment. And before you knew it, you were exchanging numbers, an euphoric soar lifting your heart and undeniable excitement pounding at your ribcage with force necessary to break through. You were already being pulled in too deep to writhe away, and there was not a thing you could do to stop yourself from heading down that same path you had trodden so many times before.

When you finally called it a night, Frank, ever the gentleman, walked you to your apartment. And as you reached the front door, you swallowed thickly, knowing very well what was going through both of your minds. In fact, it was as if Frank had read yours.

”Hey, we can just say goodbye for now. No pressure”, he reminded, his hands deep in his pockets as he gave you a sincere look, insisting that he meant every word. You nodded carefully, tearing your gaze from his handsome face, knowing every second you spent looking at his impossibly deep eyes or full lips would only weaken your resolve more and more.

”Don’t get me wrong, I… I want to. But I really shouldn’t, I—I kind of have a bad habit of sleeping on the first date when I don’t even know the person that well and it usually backfires”, you explained shyly, rubbing the back of your neck and finally bringing your eyes back to him, finding a faint smile on his lips.

”I understand, sweetheart”, he promised, giving you a curt nod before taking a step back, ready to leave. Before he did, though, he gave you a look. ”Just so we’re clear, though… that wasn’t a first date. I’mma do it right whenever you have time for me”, he insisted, flashing a grin at you before turning on his heel and walking away, not even giving you time to process.

As you got inside your apartment and sealed the door behind you, an indestructible smile took over your features. So much for not getting attached.

At first, you were able to keep your behavior in check and Frank was none the wiser to your past issues, apart from the small tidbits you offered in return when he finally opened up about his family. He took you on dates, some of them with a great effort put into them, but some of them more lowkey which felt more like Frank. You were perfectly content having wine on the rooftop of his apartment building or sharing a pizza while watching cheesy action on his couch — you were just happy to bask in his company. He seemed perfect, like he could do no wrong, and even when he admitted to his vigilante activities, you saw no fault in him. To you, he was flawless, and you adored him.

But slowly, through the cracks in your facade, the problems you had feared were beginning to show.

It started when he ran into trouble with some criminals he had been after. His mood became irritated and stressed, and you took it to heart. Your own mood soured and you tried your best to help him, unable to stop thinking about him and how he was struggling, your mind in a vicious loop as you sat in the bad feeling. A few days later, he was feeling better, and you instantly felt rejuvenated and alive again, and when the inevitable disappointment came around once more, you couldn’t breathe.

The biggest downside, however, was him putting distance between you and him to avoid you getting caught in all his problems. And distance was not something you handled well. You didn’t know how to communicate it to him, either, so instead, you were left alone in an evil downward spiral.

You messaged. You called. You cried and you begged and pleaded for an answer and reassurance that he still cared about you. It was embarrassing and you felt so vulnerable and hurt that it was almost impossible to bear. You tried so hard to be rational and understand that he was probably in a lot of trouble and danger and he’d pay attention to you as soon as he could, but the wait was killing you. It felt like you were starving without him, like your emotions were bleeding and you didn’t have the tools to stop the flow. You were suffering and it was a pain only he could alleviate.

Eventually, one night, there was a knock on your door and you flew up from the couch where you had been reading over your and Frank’s text messages again and again. Without even bothering to check through the peephole, you swung the door open, and at the sight of Frank, you felt healed. You threw yourself in his arms, hugging him tightly and clinging on for dear life, with your eyes squeezed shut and your face buried into his chest.

”Hey, sweetheart”, he whispered, wrapping his arms around you as he walked into the apartment with a gentle nudge to push you along. He kicked the door shut and carefully pried you off of him, only so he could look into your eyes. ”I’m real sorry I haven’t gotten back to you. Been dealin’ with some scumbags for the past couple of days and it’s been… rough. But I shoulda called you back. That’s on me”, he apologized, a sad look in his eyes as he stared down at you.

”It’s okay”, you breathed out with a smile, ”you’re here now. That’s all that matters.” Just like that, it was like nothing had ever happened, all the pain forgotten now that you were finally back in his embrace. It was so easy to doubt his feelings for you when he was gone, like they ceased to exist when he wasn’t around to prove his affection every second, but now that he was back… you were over the moon.

But the worst was yet to come.

”Yeah, about that, sweetheart…”, he started, and in an instant, your heart sank. ”I… I ain’t here to stay. I gotta get out of town for a while. I got these guys after me…”, he explained, but as he went on, the words didn’t register. All you heard was that he was leaving and that was enough to break you.

Tears welled up in your eyes and you grabbed ahold of Frank’s arm. ”Don’t leave me, please”, you whispered, ”you can’t leave me. Please, Frank.” His heart broke at the sight of you crying, and he reached for your cheek to wipe the tears away with his thumb, but the soft gesture did nothing to comfort your breaking heart.

”I’m sorry, sweet girl, I am”, he spoke, and quietly, he leaned in to kiss your forehead. As his lips collided with your hot skin, you closed your eyes and tightened your hold on his arm, but it didn’t deter him.

Gently but firmly, he undid your grip from him and left. The apartment became painfully quiet, but only for a while, as your loud sobs soon enough broke the peace. You fell to your knees, clawing on your chest as you wept and grieved what felt like a monumental loss.

It was the beginning of the end, you thought. You quickly lost the will to get up in the mornings, to eat, to sleep. In fact, you could no longer see the point in living, at all. You contemplated just putting an end to your miserable existence, feeling not only griefstricken but so goddamn humiliated. You had let yourself get caught up in it again, had let someone in and as always, it ended with you depressed and suicidal at the bottom of your bed.

When were you going to learn?

For the first couple of days, you loathed yourself. Then, your mind started to turn against Frank. He had hurt you, had disappointed you, had hurt you. He had held your heart in his hand and he had just crushed it. How could he do that? He had to be evil. He had to be cruel. It was his fault and his alone. And yet, you would have done anything to have him back.

One week later, that was exactly what happened. There was a knock on your door again and you found the strength to get out of your bed to find out who it was, though you were only hoping for one person.

Much to your relief and delight, when you opened the door, Frank was stood there looking like a kicked puppy, his dark eyes filled with something apologetic and his hands folded in front of him like he was getting ready to beg for your forgiveness.

”Sweetheart, I—”, he began, gulping as he hesitated. ”Your friend called me. Told me everything. About… about you”, he went on, causing your eyes to widen in surprise. You didn’t know how to feel about that revelation. You supposed you had to be grateful to your friend who had visited you in your mourning, because she had brought Frank back to you, but you also felt ashamed. Like Frank saw you in a completely different light now. Surely, he was here to end it with you for good, unable and unwilling to associate with someone as troubled as yourself.

”I didn’t know me leavin’ would hurt you so deeply. I never wanna cause you any pain, baby. I… I’m fallin’ for you and I only left because it wasn’t safe, not ’cause I didn’t care for you. But I understand now that it must’ve been real bad for you when I did that”, he explained, and slowly, you nodded. You raked your fingers through your knotted hair, feeling insecure under the weight of his stare, but he found you just as beautiful as always.

”Are you here to break up with me?” you asked weakly, sniffling as you looked down at your feet. He reacted immediately, lifting your chin with his fingertip and meeting your gaze.

”No. Fuck, never. ’M here to ask you to come with me. I still have a lot to do but I want you on the road by my side. How does that sound, sweetheart?” he proposed, a hopeful smile on his lips.

You couldn’t believe your ears. But sure enough, you mirrored his smile eventually, and your heart came back to life.

”I would love to, Frank”, you sighed, breaking into tears again, this time out of happiness. He quickly pulled you into a hug, squeezing you in his arms and kissing the top of your head. And when he withdrew from you, it was only so he could meet your lips with his own in a tender but loving kiss. It was slow and deep and it took your breath away, your stomach doing backflips as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back with all your might.

There was still a lot you hadn’t revealed to him, but it was the first time someone had seen you at your lowest and accepted it, welcomed it, and for that, you had a feeling that Frank could really, truly, genuinely be the one.

[zhongliologist]

Research Hazards | 30 Nights Series

Pairing: Alhaitham x afab!reader x Kaveh

Genre: SMUT

Content Warning: threesome, double penetration, blowjob, cunnilingus, anal, creampie, trapped

Words: 5.7k

A/N: Happy Holidays! This is my present to y'all who're still here lmao Anyways, this is part of a series that I barely started, so I won't promise I'll post regularly. Consider this an advance ksksksks Also please ignore genshin lore stuff in this fic, i took all the liberties i had so it's not accurate lmaooo

Tagging: @yostresswritinggirl i know you've been waiting for this lmaooo

Warning: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC, SO MINORS OUT THERE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

There are three types of people in the world when faced with a life or death situation.

The first one tends to be a little too overdramatic.

“This can’t be the end! I have so many projects to do, so many masterpieces to make! Al-haitham, you take responsibility for this! If you didn’t insist that we take this route, we could have been out by now!”

The second prefers to be more logical; the problem solver.

“Don’t be so pathetic, Kaveh. How about you use that brain of yours to find a way out instead? Out of us three here, you’re the most knowledgeable with machinery. You should know at least one loophole.”

And the last one is what people would call an “opportunist”.

“Take your flirting somewhere else, you two. I’m in the cusp of an academic breakthrough. This room is like no other! Completely unique from all the ruins attributed to the god of time! So exciting!”

“We are not flirting!” “Your imagination knows no boundaries, YN.”

You shrugged, crouching near an impression on the wall. “Hm. Whatever you say.”

This unique arrangement, or whatever it was, simply formed out of necessity.

As students of the Akademiya, it was required to submit a final research paper before graduating—a cumulative opus of all the learnings and skills one has acquired through their time as a student. You never had any trouble in writing your own paper, but the subject you chose was a behemoth, a wide gap in the tree of knowledge that has yet to be studied thoroughly. Despite your brilliance however, you only had one brain and that was hardly enough to tackle the mystery of the god of time. Besides, you needed the expertise from the other Darshans to make full sense of any discovery, and they probably need your expertise as well—a win-win situation, in your honest opinion.

And that was how you ended up with Al-haitham and Kaveh—geniuses, yes, but probably the most insufferable pair in the entire Akademiya.

“Al-haitham, Kaveh,” you called out as you stood up from your position and walked towards the two with notebook in hand. Al-haitham was standing front of a wall, trying to decipher what was written, while Kaveh was busy studying the walls of the room.

“Have you figured it out?” Al-haitham asked, looking up. He was always the sensible one between the two, but only when it comes to intellectual pursuits.

“No, not yet, but I do need a sounding board,” you replied, standing beside him. “An alternative assessment, if you will.”

“Fine by me. We’ll listen to your ideas first before we share our own thoughts,” Kaveh said as he stood before the both of you.

“So our current predicament is that we’re trapped in this room, which was triggered when we stepped on that platform, causing the walls to cave in on us. If we want to get out, we have to at least understand what had trapped us and why.”

Both men nodded at you. Al-haitham glanced at you, his stare a little too long than normal.

“Makes sense. Go on.”

You cleared your throat to divert your attention to the subject at hand. “Well, here’s the thing. Previous research claim that these ruins are dedicated to the god of time, yet now that I’m here seeing it with my own two eyes, touching it with my two hands, I have to disagree. And I believe the both of you think the same way.”

Kaveh and Al-haitham exchanged glances, yet it was Kaveh who first spoke. “While it is important not to jump into conclusions right away, I do agree with YN. The architectural style, the motifs…they do look similar to Istaroth-attributed ruins yet not quite. The flower motifs on the wall could easily be mistaken as triquetras. If we reexamine previous papers and note our recent findings, a trove of new discoveries is possible.”

Nodding in agreement, you listened to what Kaveh had to say, until you were distracted by how his lips moved. Soft, pink and plump…would it feel as delectable as it appeared to be, you wondered. Wait. This is not what you should be thinking in this situation YN!

“We should be careful here,” Al-haitham interrupted your thoughts. “Refuting previously recognized research is already an endeavor in and of itself. While it is disappointing that these ruins are not related to the ruins of Dahri, we can get enough data here to write an additional paper, alongside our main research subject. With that said, figuring out who this place is for should be the first and foremost priority, for the paper and for our safety as well.”

“I’ve seen you look through the writings on the wall earlier. Did it leave any clues?” you asked, gazing up at him. For some reason you felt hot and uncomfortable all of the sudden. Perhaps it was just the jungle humidity finally getting to you.

“Ah yes. It was also the reason why I had to agree with your assessment. The writings sing of praises for the goddess of flowers, as well as of hopes and wishes for ‘new seed’ to sprout and ‘new buds’ to bloom. It was also in a language which emerged at the same time as scripts from King Deshret’s empire and from ancient Sumeru. If these were ruins attributed to the god of time, Khaenri'ahn script should have been used and there should be no mention of the goddess of flowers.”

“How interesting,” you exclaimed, trying to rid of unnecessary thoughts forming in your head. “What you both have noted all points to the goddess of flowers. I assumed the same case as well. Yet there are no records of buildings dedicated to the goddess, so what makes this one different? What does the writings on the wall allude to? What is this place for? Why are we trapped here?”

“Alright!” Kaveh exclaimed, making you yelp when he suddenly placed his hands on your shoulders. They were heavy and big. “Let’s take a break for a while. I, for one, would like to rest on a comfortable place.”

The ‘comfortable place’ Kaveh was referring to was of course, another invention of his. Both you and Al-haitham watched the blond unfurl his portable chaise lounge with jaded eyes, all too familiar with Kaveh’s tactic of showing off. If he wasn’t a master craftsman and architect, you would’ve deemed him a simple man.

“Of course, the both of you are free to take a seat. Don’t be shy now,” he smirked, and at that point you understood why Al-haitham was ceaselessly cruel to him.

“Al-haitham if you’re not going to punch him sooner or later, I will do it.”

The Haravatat scholar simply shrugged at you; indicating that you should get used to it. “If I were you, just humor him to keep the peace and quiet. The archons know we need some silence to think in this situation.”

“Fine,” you retorted back and marched towards Kaveh. In a huff, you ungracefully plopped yourself on the chaise, surprising even Kaveh himself.

“You’re…” sitting so close to me, was what he wanted to say yet it was suddenly so difficult to get the words out of his throat.

“What is it?” you asked, wondering why Kaveh covered half of his face with his hand all of a sudden.  

“No, I just…” he couldn’t say it. There was no way he could tell you that you smelled so sweet and delectable, enough to remind him of baklavas drizzled with honey. Drizzled with honey…he could lick it off of you—

“What’s gotten into you, Kaveh? You wouldn’t be thinking of anything inappropriate, would you?” you asked in the midst of a laughing fit. You just couldn’t help but giggle at the way his face morphed into an expression of horror.

“O-of course not! I…” he stammered but eventually composed himself. “Don’t you think it’s a bit warm in this room?”

“Well, there are no windows. It could also be the combined body heat of us three,” you shrugged. “I’m more concerned if we’re gonna run out of air before we can get out of here.”

“Oh, about that. There is a draft coming from the gaps on the walls, so there’s no chance of suffocation.”

“Well, at least we have that. But I do agree, it’s been warm for a while now, it’s making my skin stick to my clothes. I should at least remove one layer.”

“What…?”

Kaveh stared at you in panic, wide-eyed and flushed. He was already having inappropriate thoughts of you; your bare skin would do massive damage to his self-control.

“Wait…!” he reached out to you, hand on your arm. You gazed at him curiously, mulling over at the weird mood the both of you were in. If you were a little more honest, you could feel a haze creeping around you and Kaveh. You were just too scared to acknowledge it.

“Oh, come on! I’m just removing a jacket, no big deal!” You shrugged him off, finally getting rid of the stuffy outerwear required of students while on field, and went back to your place beside the blond man.

Kaveh had to train his eyes somewhere else to avoid looking at your shoulders and neck. Yet even if his eyes found purchase on a nearby rock, his imagination was betraying him with images of you flushed and ready underneath him, calling out his name in sweet and illicit whispers. There is no way he wouldn’t get hard right now. Get a hold of yourself, Kaveh!

Unbeknownst to the blond beside you, you weren’t in the best of shape either. It took all your mental prowess not to get overwhelmed by lewd thoughts—thoughts which involved the blond and the ash-haired scholar. All the intellectual talk from earlier had you weak and bothered, weirdly turned on from how Al-haitham discussed his thoughts while Kaveh shared his. For some reason, the desire to be pressed between both men was clawing at you. You wanted to feel their bodies against yours, touching and caressing all your sensitive spots until the three of you were one incoherent mess.

“What are you two even doing?”

The sound of Al-haitham’s stern voice brought you back down to Teyvat. You were thankful he was still sane, otherwise you might’ve not been able to come back. Kaveh, on the other hand, was still stubbornly looking at the distant wall.

“YN, scoot over,” Al-haitham ordered. He didn’t wait for you to move however, instead, you were forced to make room for him on the now crowded chaise, making you bump against Kaveh, who was definitely not pleased.

“You could at least wait, you know?” you remarked irately. “It’s already so hot and humid as it is…”

Removing his beret, Al-haitham kept his gaze on the wall in front of him much like Kaveh. “It’s not my fault this chaise lounge could barely fit three people.”

“Do you have a problem with it Al-haitham?” Kaveh interrupted, a lilt of frustration present in his voice which wasn’t there before. “You should be thankful you’re not sitting on the stone floor.”

In your position, the two of them looked rather silly bickering at the walls they were facing, as they avoided getting a glimpse of you and of each other. It wasn’t hard to guess that Al-haitham was feeling the same way both you and Kaveh did, and he was trying his best not to succumb to it.

“Did this room smelled particularly sweet when we went in?” you asked, interrupting the both of them.

“Hm? Oh no, I don’t think so. It was just like any other ruins we previously visited,” Kaveh replied, instinctively looking at you. That proved to be quite a mistake however, as his eyes began to ogle at your bare shoulders, neck and arms. The temptation to touch you was all too real and difficult to resist. Any time now, the tightly-wound thread holding his self-control would eventually snap.

“I’ve noticed it as well…the room does smell faintly of sweet flowers and padisarahs.” Al-haitham added as he glanced down at you, imagining all the things your mouth can do for him. Like slow-moving poison, illicit thoughts were invading his mind, pillaging all that is logical and reasonable until all he could think about is you. You being violated by him and Kaveh; you crying out their names as they fill both your holes; you laying on the chaise stuffed to the brim with their seed.

You watched Al-haitham as his mind wandered. You could tell he was losing his own battles, overcome by intrusive thoughts. If Al-haitham himself had succumbed to these thoughts, then forget about finding a way out. Your minds were too preoccupied to do any analysis at that point. The question now became clear to you—for how long are you three able to maintain self-control? If that wasn’t possible, what will happen to the three of you?

“A conclusion seemed to have crossed your mind, YN.”

It was Al-haitham, who had met your eyes directly. Peridot orbs on yours, you noticed the ferocity of his gaze, as if a fire was smoldering deep within him which he could barely contain. He was at his limit, and you were nearing yours too. You could only withstand so much mental battles, especially not against old leyline energy.

“This was a miscalculation in our part. Who would have thought we’d encounter something like this deep in the forest?” you replied, voice becoming low, body becoming pliant. “The flower motifs, the inscription on the wall, all the scattered decorations. It makes sense for this place to have that kind of purpose.”

“So what now?” Kaveh asked, leaning against the back rest of the chaise. “I don’t think I have the energy to resist whatever is happening.”

“Let’s just see where it goes,” you shrugged, allowing Al-haitham’s hands to cup your cheeks and Kaveh’s arms to wrap around your waist. “We are already too far gone.”

The next few moments were difficult for you to follow. After allowing your carnal urges to took hold of your actions, all you could remember was how everything felt so good.

The two men slowly ravished your body. You remember Al-haitham pressing his lips against yours, nibbling your lower lip until you allowed him to explore your mouth and play with your tongue. Kaveh, on the other hand, had monopoly over your body, lazily embracing your waist with one arm as he fondled your chest with his hand. He liked to bury his nose on the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and leaving his marks all over your skin. Suffice to say, their ministrations left you bare and naked.

There were no words exchanged at that moment, just pure and unbridled lust.

You delighted at the sensation of having both men caressing you, making you feel good. In the haste of it all, the blond had you sitting on his lap, his hands cupping your breasts and rubbing your nipples, while Al-haitham’s lips travelled down from collarbones to your stomach; leaving nips and splotches of color in his wake. Your hands could only do so much; wrapped around Al-haitham’s shoulders as you accepted it all.

Kaveh couldn’t believe he finally had a taste of you—his deepest desires finally coming into fruition after years of longing. Although he had to share with Al-haitham, there was no other opportunity like this. He could finally touch you, caress you, tease you as he pleased. There were no eyes to stop him, no boorish ego to tell him he was being unprofessional for liking you as your senior. Maybe this was what he needed after all.

“…Kaveh…” you moaned, looking up to him for a kiss which he easily obliged. He went immediately for a French kiss, sliding his tongue against yours in a soft and needy kiss. Kaveh groaned into your lips as you pressed your butt against the tent in his pants, reminding him to remove his clothes as soon as possible.

Al-haitham watched the exchange with half-lidded eyes and lips ajar. It was turning him on in all the right ways. As a man of rationality, he had never thought he’d enjoy a voyeuristic view of you making out with another man, much less Kaveh. But the sight only made his dick harder, prompting him to bite hard on your inner thigh.

 “—!!”

“Come on now, YN. Don’t tell me you forgot about me,” he growled as he lapped on the bite mark he had just left on your skin. “Let’s hear you moan.”

With those words, the man completely ravished your thighs—leaving nips and bites but altogether avoiding the place where you needed him the most. You were trembling, keening in pleasure, mind numbed by the sensations both men had put you through. With hands tightly digging into Al-haitham’s hair, you collapsed against Kaveh’s chest as you begged the other for more.

Annoyed at the attention you gave to Al-haitham, Kaveh had his hand under your chin and turned your head to face him. Meeting his scarlet eyes, you melted under his gaze—once again joining lips in one sloppy kiss. He easily drowned out your moans with his tongue, delving deeper into your mouth until all you could feel were his soft plump lips.

Aware of how quiet you had been, Al-haitham pushed your legs up and dove right at your center; sucking your sensitive nub without any warning. Your body shook immediately, pulling away from Kaveh’s lips as you reveled at the way Al-haitham was lapping your juices which had been spilling out since earlier.

“…Al-haitham…! Wait—!”

All your pleading went to deaf ears as he continued eating you out, even to the point of inserting his tongue into your hole. It didn’t help when Kaveh suddenly pinched your nipples, flicking them until they were raw and sensitive. He was back on marking your shoulders and neck; his bites now more intense and feral. You could only grasp on thin air as both men drove you to your climax. Tears welled up on the sides of your eyes as the pleasure became so unbearable, with no choice but to take it all in.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck….! I’m…!”

As Al-haitham sucked hard on your clit; as Kaveh bit hard on your shoulder, you instantly fell to your climax—body shaking and trembling as the pain and pleasure mixed into something indescribably intense and rendering your mind completely blank. You screamed at the overwhelming stimulation, squirting juices into Al-haitham’s mouth which he gladly licked.

The two men gently laid you down on the chaise as they stood in front of you, breathless and horny with cocks painfully hard. Silently, they undressed as you watched—your eyes tracing the contours of their muscles and biceps, their beautiful skin riddled with beads of sweat and bodily fluids. Desire bubbles up from the pits of your stomach once again.

Finally, you saw a glimpse of their erect members, both glistening with pre-cum. Head overridden with lust, you almost salivate at the sight—Kaveh’s was pretty, pink and rather long and slightly girthy, while Al-haitham was thick and veiny; almost as muscular as his toned body. Both men smirked at how you were ogling at them.

“Seems like you want more, YN,” Kaveh remarked as he sat at the end of the chaise, spreading your legs apart. “Surely, we can give you more. Isn’t that right, Al-haitham?”

Normally, this would prompt more bickering from the two, yet they have different priorities right now, and they can set aside their differences for later.

Al-haitham scoffed, hands giving his cock a few pumps before placing it near your lips.

“How about we start with a blowjob? I’m sure you know how to do it, don’t you YN?” There was a mocking lilt to his tone that normally irritated you, yet at that situation, it turned you on for some fucking reason.

At first, you gave the head tentative licks, lapping at the beads of pre-cum spilling from the tip. You then began swirling your tongue around the head and sucking it. Eventually, you licked the underside of his cock, thoroughly covering his member with saliva and pre-cum which earned a deep growl from the man. Locking gazes with Al-haitham, you finally took him in, mouth stretching at his girth. If you weren’t drowning in lust, you would’ve complained at the pain, but at that point, all you could think about was how you were sucking his large cock while Kaveh was rubbing his on your drenched slit.

And speaking of Kaveh, he was busy pleasuring himself—pressing your thighs together around his dick which was brushing against your sensitive clit. If you hadn’t had Al-haitham’s cock in your mouth, you would’ve moaned every time Kaveh would rub on your sensitive bud; yet you could only roll your eyes to the back of your head; seeing stars on the process. It was a delightful distraction, and both men seemed to have made it somewhat of a contest of who could maintain your attention.

All of the sudden, Al-haitham shoved his dick into your throat, making you gag. Holding your head, he was effectively fucking your mouth, as you took it all in. It was painful, but fortunately Kaveh was there to distract you, pressing his thumb on your clit as he continued sliding his cock on your wet cunt. You could no longer tell which was which, allowing your body to feel everything.

“Fuck, YN….I’m going to come in your mouth…” Al-haitham muttered through gritted teeth.

“Wouldn’t you like that, YN?” Kaveh cooed, face flushed as he continued to fuck your thighs. “We’re gonna cover you with our cum…”

With a few strokes, Al-haitham stilled in your mouth and pumped his cum into your throat, while Kaveh spilled his seed on your stomach, almost reaching your breasts. Not able to swallow of Al-haitham’s essence, you allowed the mess to drip from your lips and down to your body. The image of you covered with their seed was enough to keep both men hard even outside the influence of the room. Even after coming once, it wasn’t enough. They had to have you.

Lifting your chin up, Kaveh captured your lips for the nth time, tasting Al-haitham on your tongue. The thought seemed to drive him crazy, as he probed deeper into your mouth, groaning, sucking your tongue and biting your lips. Lifting you up, Kaveh met eye to eye with Al-haitham, both seemingly agreeing on something.

Smirking as he devoured your lips, Kaveh had you on his lap again, his cock now lined up on your cunt. Without saying anything, the blond lowered you to his dick, grunting at the novel sensation of your walls wrapped around him. His lips kept any of your moans from escaping, as he allowed you to feel the shape of his cock in your pussy.

All you could think of at that moment was how good Kaveh filled you up. He was prodding you at the right places, his size making you stop to adjust to him before he can plow into your cunt. The way he was kissing you didn’t help either. The constant stimulation had made your body so sensitive that even a brush of Al-haitham’s hand on your neck or Kaveh’s low growls was enough to make your body spasm.

“…Kaveh…more…”

You begged for him to move, but the blond could only smirk at you as he laid the both of you flat on the chaise with you above him.

“Oh no, we’re not done here, YN. Al-haitham has to prepare you.”

With those words, you suddenly felt cold wet fingers prodding your other hole, prompting you to turn around. You were greeted by a grinning Al-haitham who pressed a few kisses on your back.

“We don’t have any lube right now, but I’ll make sure you’re ready for the both of us.”

As Al-haitham kneeled down, you could feel his tongue rimming your hole, licking and prodding until you were crying out at the strange sensations.

“Wait…no…! That’s…!”

“Relax, YN,” Kaveh assured you as he nipped on your ear. “It’ll feel good later on. Just let Al-haitham pleasure you.”

You could no longer tell how long Al-haitham took to make you feel good, but you could tell that your rigid body was gradually becoming pliant to his touch. Perhaps you already came several times, you weren’t sure as the pleasure seemed to have overlapped each other with no end in sight. By the time you noticed, he already had four digits pumping in and out of you as he lapped on your juices, while you moaned against Kaveh’s shoulders.

“Look how well you can take my fingers, YN,” Al-haitham whispered to your ear as he continued to pound his fingers into your ass. “You think you can take my cock now?”

“A-Al-haitham…please…I—!”

As the ash-haired man flicked a particular spot inside, you could only cling to Kaveh for support, yet the blond himself was also struggling, trying his best not to come even after your walls keep tightening around him.

“Al-haitham…” Kaveh grunted, beads of sweat falling from his temples. “Hurry up…I don’t think I can last much longer…”

Al-haitham clicked his tongue as he shoved his fingers deep into you, making both you and Kaveh groan. “So impatient…perhaps you both need a lesson or two.”

“Well, how about we switch places instead?” the older man asked, his irritation evident.

Yet the other man only smirked, “Maybe later then.”

Finally pulling out his fingers, Al-haitham coated his member with your essence, rubbing it against your hole until he lined it up. Noticing what he was about to do, Kaveh pulled your now swollen lips once more for a kiss, effectively distracting you.

Gradually, Al-haitham pushed his fat cock into your ass, stretching you out in proportions you had never considered before. Having both Al-haitham and Kaveh inside of you had your eyes rolling to the bank of your head, the intensity enough to make you faint. But you were intoxicated with whatever energy was in the room, so instead of actually fainting, you were flooded with pain that was so good that it had your body shaking uncontrollably.

“Breathe slowly, love. Take it easy,” Kaveh whispered sweetly to you, noticing your heavy breaths. He made carefully placed kisses on your jaw and down to the crook of your neck to soothe you. He knew Al-haitham would definitely abuse your hole, and he had to at least make sure that you’d come out sane after this. His ministrations seemed to have worked though, as you collapsed into his embrace, whimpering while taking in both cocks in you.

It didn’t take a while for both men to begin moving. The contrast of Al-haitham’s sharp and harsh thrusts to Kaveh’s slow but long-drawn pace left you an incoherent mess, no longer able to perceive everything that was happening to you. You felt as if you were one big bundle of nerves, drooling and screaming every time their cocks pushed against a particularly sweet spot in you.

Yet you were not the only one on the brink of losing their sanity. Both Al-haitham and Kaveh were acting on complete impulse and desire—with their hands on your waist, plunging into you as deep as they could, relentlessly chasing after their high. They wanted to fuck you over and over again and spill into you, marking you as theirs inside and out. Then rinse and repeat.

“Hey, can you feel it?” Al-haitham asked Kaveh in a breathy voice, grinning as he continued to pound into you.

“Feel what?”

“My dick—“

In one huff, Al-haitham shoved deep and hard into you, which made your walls contract around Kaveh’s.

“Oh fuck…!” The other groaned out, gripping your waist tight as he threw his head up. That was incredible, if he was being honest.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” the younger man smirked as he bent over your back and took a handful of your hair. “YN seemed to have liked it as well.”

“Shut up,” the other simply glared even though his face was completely flushed.

“You should learn from YN, Kaveh. At least, they’re being honest.”

Al-haitham only chuckled as he continued to drive into you, completely mesmerized at how you were clamping around him, how your hips would bounce every time he would thrust sharply, how you were moaning his name on Kaveh’s lips. In normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have imagined himself desiring you so intensely like this. Unlike Kaveh who obviously had a crush on you, you were more like a like-minded individual to Al-haitham; someone who he could match wavelengths with. He could spend the whole day everyday with you without worrying about anything, and he would feel rather lonely if you weren’t there. Was it different from what Kaveh was feeling about you? He thought it was, but now he wasn’t sure anymore.

Al-haitham felt you tighten around him once more, probably prompted by Kaveh playing with your chest. He could feel himself slowly climbing into his climax, his dick twitching inside of you.

“I can’t…no more…I’m…” you managed to croak out, voice hoarse and dry from all the screaming.

“It’s okay...” Kaveh cooed as he pressed a kiss on your forehead, “we’re cutting it close too…”

“Cum with us, YN,” Al-haitham encouraged.

This was the moment you waited for, feeling both their dicks plunging in and out of you. You reveled at how full you felt, at how you were drowning in so much pleasure that your mind just turned off on its own. This moment where you were all in the brink of your climax was something you chased after—it was the height of all anticipation, of all the build-up. Soon, it will spill over into waves of ecstasy; devouring the three of you whole.

With their erratic paces and their ragged breaths, both men ravished both your holes as they try to reach their peak. You yourself was feeling the brunt of their thrusts, with knuckles white from gripping tightly on Kaveh’s shoulders and eyes rolling to the back of your head. A single hard thrust from both men had you collapsing on your orgasm, walls tightening as your body shook intensely. Following after you, Kaveh painted your walls white, spilling his seed deep into you with a loud growl. Al-haitham finished last, pumping his cum into your ass until it spilt over your hole.

Losing strength, Al-haitham slumped beside you and Kaveh as he tried to catch his breath. You could’ve passed out at the moment, if only the both of them weren’t still hard and ready to go. You yourself weren’t as satisfied as you ought to be, now beginning to miss their deep and sharp thrusts.

“Seems like we’ll have to satisfy this place before it would let us stop,” Al-haitham remarked, pulling out from you with his cum spilling out.

Helping you sit up, Kaveh also pulled out from you, groaning in the process. He wouldn’t want to admit it but he was as eager as you started; evident from how hard he still was despite coming twice.

“You can still take more, can’t you YN?”

“We’ll help you, so don’t worry about anything.”

Climbing back on the chaise, Kaveh pulled you to his lap while Al-haitham captured your lips with a grunt escaping his mouth. That all led you to Kaveh pounding your ass this time while Al-haitham shoved his cock into your pussy—your juices mixing and staining your skin. Imprisoned in the room, the three of you had no perception of time, thus it felt like you were fucking for eternity with no chance of calming down.

The three of you tried every position possible in order to satiate the brewing desire ever-present in the pits of your stomachs. One time you were riding Kaveh while you had Al-haitham on your mouth. Another time you were held by Al-haitham, wrapping your legs around his waist as he fucked your sore cunt raw, while Kaveh was pressed behind you, cock plunging deep in your ass. Both your two holes were full of their cum, spilling out on your thighs and legs.

At that point, the three of you were unbothered where this was going. If this was where you meet your end, you could just imagine Al-haitham’s look of disappointment and disgust. That was hilarious in and of itself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. You just wanted to have them both by your side, filling you with their seed over and over again.

By the time you came to notice, you had already awoken yourself from sleep. Both men were lying close, bodies splayed over you as if you three had passed out from fucking too much.

But there, on the periphery of your vision, you saw a door, which wasn’t there before. You rubbed your eyes to check if you weren’t imagining things, but fortunately enough, you weren’t. It was there.

“Kaveh! Al-haitham! Wake up!” you exclaimed, pinching their noses to wake them up.

“Wha…? What happened…?” Kaveh asked, groaning at how heavy both you and Al-haitham were.

“Could you tone it down please?” the younger man scolded, still planning to go back to resting.

But as you were about to move, all the activity you did came crashing on you.

“Oww my fucking back!”

EPILOGUE

“And so, that is the conclusion of our research on Ruin No. 255b. While our paper is far from conclusive, we would like to take another look at it for more study.”

Al-haitham ended your presentation with a resounding applause from the panel of sages. They were more or less satisfied, saying how the three of you always produced great research which definitely warranted high honors upon graduation.

“But still, I’m curious,” the sage from the Amurta Darshan began. “This section here…on how leyline energy affects an individual’s libido. It’s so incredibly detailed that I have to ask how you were able to get this data.”

You smiled nervously, as you exchanged looks with the two men. “Well, we just had a few volunteers…”

[itisnotaphasemom]

I might not be able to put this the right way, and maybe others have said this already,

but to me, the main thing about Cloud and Aerith is the way he tries to grow for her and because of her.

In a way, they could be quite similar. Both are incredibly lonely, and they share similar trauma. Both have lost their mothers in tragic, malicious ways. Both are confused about their identity and past. Cloud learns how much just he has forgotten and that something is very wrong with him, just like Aerith keeps finding out how little she actually knows about her ancestry or the circumstances of her mother's death.

Cloud and Aerith both realize this and are able to sympathize with one another. Aerith is incredibly patient with Cloud and him trying to uphold the walls he built around himself at all times.

I think Cloud knows there is a fundamental difference about them, though. And, that is that despite everything that has happened while Cloud has been putting up walls and has become hardened, Aerith has not. While Cloud looks to the past, is angered, shut off, and distant, Aerith has gone the opposite route. She remained soft and hopeful. It's not to say she isn't sad or lonely or angry, which she is, but she isn't faulting the world for this. She wants things to get better, instead of wanting revenge.

Generally, I think there are relationships that make you look to the past or to the future and I don't think there's right or wrong in that if it isn't too extreme.

But I think Aerith makes Cloud look into the future. I think he's always been either checked out about looking either way, or obsessed with the past, about what happened and how to mend it.

Aerith makes him believe in a future because she has been through similar things and she has come out on the other side hopeful. Because she is still good to people and because she still loves, she still cares. And I think this makes Cloud want to grow, too.

And he's showing this in some of Aerith's darkest moments. When she acknowledges her dark thoughts on the beach, he reacts with understanding, and he helps her going forward, supporting her when he can (even without the obligatory merc fee). He encourages her to speak out about her past at the lantern festival. I think as someone being taken in by a stranger as a child, essentially putting her guardian's life at risk and bringing heavy baggage along, she learned to have to be pleasant at all times to be loved. Through Cloud, she learns that this other side of her, the one that is struggling with embracing her difficult past and path forward, is also worthy of love and protection. She says to him on the beach, she is sure, he will love future Aerith, the one she is growing into right at that moment - she, too, is changing because of him.

These moments show he really wants to be there for her the same way she is there for him. He wants to make her happy and support her. He wants to protect her while she protects the world. He feels responsible for her, and it's a role he wants to grow into, and he does.

In a way, Clouds world just gets a lot bigger while Aerith is in it. When she is there, he actually laughs, he smiles like he does with no one else, and finally, he even cries holding her in his arms, when he was on the cusp of being turned into an emotionless weapon just moments before.

This, in turn, makes Aerith open up to him in a way she doesn't do with the others, too. They both see a side of the other person nobody else gets to see.

I think this is amplified in the ending when Cloud is literally the only person who knows what happened to her, that witnessed her death and who's able to see her afterward.

[ladystoneboobs]

ya ever think about how the lannister sibs all have big secrets kept from each other, like huge life-altering experiences? jaime's is the most obvious, the most talked-about, with the full story of his kingslaying and everything he endured from aerys leading up to it. it's clear enough to me that brienne was the first he opened up to about that, including either sibling. they never asked, but unlike ned stark and the rest deriding him as kingslayer, their lack of curiosity is no offense in itself bc as tywin's other children they would never judge him for turning his cloak purely out of family loyalty. ned's assumption of jaime's motives is directly tied to his judgment of jaime, but it's the judgment that rankles jaime so. choosing your father's life over a king's is hardly the worst crime in itself. how can he explain all the other reasons without prompting when its not just about his crime but all his trauma too? is there any basis for that in his relationship with cersei, who always relied on him for comfort and consolation but seems less adept at providing the same to him? or even with tyrion, his only real male friend for years, but also his baby brother, the one he was meant to protect and take care of, who was only 10 at the time of the kingslaying? even to fully share all with tyrion years later, both adults, could be something of a role reversal, forever shattering tyrion's image of him as the strong invulnerable golden big brother by revealing his own broken inner child. jaime can't break out from those sibling roles and patterns, so neither can ever understand that part of him, never knowing the early life he had at court without either of them with him.

and tyrion, who trusted jaime more than anyone in the world before learning the truth about tysha, still could not confide in him freely even when all that trust was still intact. jaime must have heard some story of what tywin did to tysha to feel the need to confess his lie, but he def didn't hear it straight from tyrion bc imo there's no way he could still think confessing would help anything if he understood how scarred tyrion was by what he witnessed and esp not knowing that tywin ordered him to participate at the end. tyrion could reveal all that to bronn when they barely knew each other but not to his beloved brother, his first and best friend. how can the most abused child explain all his unknown abuse to the golden child, the big brother meant to protect him who couldn't always do so? how does he even begin to reveal the deepest trauma that happened to him when jaime wasn't in the room, esp when the story does start with jaime apparently trying to help him by fixing him up with tysha?

and then there's cersei and all her secrets. she always turned to jaime for consolation, or at least when he knew she needed it, but how many times did he not know? how personally could she confide in him as they grew older and their paths diverged? we know the first big secret was maggy the frog's prophecy, her first big scare, which came on the cusp of puberty, an experience she couldn't share with her twin bc he would prob just laugh and make a joke of it. in their first real scene together, in bran's pov, he mocks lysa's motherly fears and likens her to cersei. ("I think birthing does something to your minds. You are all mad." He laughed.) then he makes light of her marital discord, ("And whose fault is that, sweet sister?"), having no idea of the depth of pain she'd suffered from robert, beyond his infidelities. he later blames her for being robert's queen, not his, only thinking of how she managed to arrange his kg post, that power to forever tie him to her in secret, never grasping her lack of control in marriage, that "a queen is only a woman after all". in her pride it was hard to reveal all she'd suffered as a woman, but she also couldn't rely on jaime's response if he knew of her abuse, knowing he would kill robert and get himself killed too, only making her and their children's lives more precarious. she couldn't trust him to listen about securing the throne before dealing with robert or that as robert's victim it was her right to decide such matters, to choose his fate, not jaime's place to avenge her without her say-so first. all bc they were both too stuck in their idea of jaime as her sword, nothing more, with jaime determined to protect her and tyrion, always a bodyguard before he ever donned a white cloak.

something something tywin did his best to play his children off each other and the most effective thing he did to divide them was by setting jaime up as the golden child and family protector. the designated lannister sword only pointing at threats outside their house. a knight serving his family whose protection was always limited, who could never protect them from the person who first hurt cersei and tyrion and made them who they were at a distance from him, bc ofc he couldn't fight his own father, much less slay him with a sword.

something something maybe the reason that joff+marg+loras was a surer recipe for kingslayer stew than robert+cersei+jaime is all down to that tyrell lack of abusive structure. not that loras cared more about marg, was more willing to kill for her than jaime was to kill robert, but that there wasn't a chance of marg hiding her misery from him if/when her husband abused her in their shared household. it's not like he understood her to the point of mind-reading but when their previous royal marital household involved her bearding for his boyfriend then they prob had a pretty good basis of open communication. in that sense, the lannicest twins with all their sexual and physical intimacy still had less emotional intimacy than the tyrell queen and her kg brother.

[merakiui]

Thinking about soft non con with the tweels... maybe you yawned in front of them or something and they get really excited about it

Omg omg omg what if they were your childhood bullies??? OTL I am so weak for the trope of childhood bully who tormented darling in their childhood and then they both grow up and suddenly they love darling even more now because darling has grown so pretty. <3

Tweels come back to visit for the spring break and it's a tradition of theirs to track you down and pay you a little visit. :) they always find you, no matter how well you may hide or camouflage yourself. It's been a while since they've last seen you. In fact, they haven't stayed true to their annual tradition because learning how to survive on land occupied most of their energy, time, and thoughts. Due to that, you were spared the headache for the year. But now they're back in their home, feeling so relieved to finally get back into the water in their true forms, and as they're checking on their old haunts you pop into their brains. The twins aren't telepathic by any means, but sometimes you might think they are when they're always running on the same brain cell. Naturally, they have to find you.

And they do! And oh aren't you just the prettiest thing? You're glowing with the addictive allure brought on by spring mating cycles. Soon you'll likely go off into some secretive nook, hole yourself away for however long your cycle lasts, and get rid of all of the unfertilized eggs you've undoubtedly made in preparation of the mating season. You've grown a considerable amount, but you're still nowhere near as strong or big as them. <3 they circle you in the water, all sharp-toothed grins. Floyd drapes himself on you lazily, complaining about how it was no fair that you didn't come to visit, how he missed being able to tease and squeeze his favorite Shrimpy. Though Jade isn't as verbally direct as his brother, his eyes are scanning you, most definitely noting all of the subtle physical signs many mers exhibit when they're on the cusp of their cycle. You're too cute, parading yourself around like this. Were you hoping they'd come find you and take care of you?

It's obvious you're averse to them, attempting to keep this conversation as short as possible. But the twins pay it no mind. They have to make up for the lost time, so why not spend the afternoon catching up with them? Show them around a bit, won't you? Take them to your favorite places! They'll gladly follow your lead, but then you have no choice because even if you swim away with the intention of leaving they're just going to pursue.

Floyd asks if you're still so hung up on all those years they bullied you. Maybe that's why you seem like a prey shaken to the core after nearly evading a predator's vicious maw. Of course you'd be hung up on that! They made your life miserable. If Floyd wasn't pestering you for a few of your scales and if Jade wasn't trailing you like an innocent guppy (which is very false; behind that guppy veneer was a cruel bully), then they were both intimidating you into giving up things. Whenever birthdays rolled around, you were the first on their list. They'd swim up to you, entirely casual, and slyly mention how it was their birthday and even if they didn't directly state it you knew their expectant stares told you they wanted something. You'd lost all sorts of things to them: spoils from exploring shipwrecks, your own allowance, jewelry, pretty stones, your scales, and even your first kiss (which Floyd had taken rather roughly after another bully had shoved you and he'd gotten monstrously territorial. Supposedly, only he and Jade are allowed to torment you. Why he felt the need to kiss you to prove his dominance, you have no clue, but he did and you still haven't forgiven him for it).

So you hate their leering when they follow you, flanking you like twin parasites. Floyd fills the tense silence with his own chatter and Jade occasionally makes his own comments or responds to some of Floyd's ramblings. Their eyes stick to you like barnacles; you hate it. You always feel so small and powerless with them around. Having to balance a duo like this is so draining, so it's only natural you'd get tired. You're yawning a lot, and stress and anxiety aren't helping. It also doesn't help that your cycle is nearing and so you've become even more jittery since. The twins are staring at your mouth, at every little opening and closing of it, and at some point Floyd can't take it anymore. He grips your jaw, wraps himself around you to keep you still, and mumbles about how it's not very nice of Shrimpy to be such a tease during spring. Don't you know how special this season is? You do because you're a mer, so obviously you must have wanted this. Why else would you take them to such a quiet, desolate cave?

The twins know very well you're just tired, but that doesn't stop them from crafting their own narrative, which they speak about so freely.

"Someone's rather eager, wouldn't you agree, Floyd?"

He nods, his tone spotted with giggles. "Seems Shrimpy couldn't wait for us to get back. Was it tough havin' to carry so many eggs? Ya better get used to it because you'll only get heavier!"

Perhaps you could have evaded one of them, but two is a deadly combination. And though they're both so strong, they're incredibly gentle with handling you. But then you're too frightened to oppose them and put up a fight, and Jade and Floyd don't want to risk injuring you or the eggs. They're not entirely mean! :( they love you and want to be sweet and affectionate with you. So when they exchange kisses with you, taking turns rutting into you and filling you with lots of slick and cum, it's always gently. Floyd cradles your belly, clawed, webbed hands tracing the loveliest patterns into it. He's cooing about how pretty his Shrimpy is, how he loves you so, so, so sosososo much, how he wants to bring you back to meet his Mama and Pops. Jade keeps you coiled in a comforting embrace, pressing sweet, soft, fleeting kisses to your shoulders, neck, collarbone, chest. He whispers filth and sweetness in your ears, shushing you when you cry and uttering the softest assurances and praises. It'll be okay; he's here. He's not going anywhere. Look only at him. You'll be fine. You're doing so well. He knows it's unbearable, so let him take care of you. You don't have to spend this season alone. He and Floyd are here for you. <3

You're not sure if you spend hours or days in that cave. If you aren't sleeping and eating the things Floyd's hunted, dragged in, or collected, then you're being filled all over again by the both of them. The twins have always taken lots of things from you, and like the greedy eels they are they took your first time and fertilized your first clutch. >_< if it's any consolation, they help you back to their home, praising you for being so good for them and proudly showing you off to their parents, who are oh-so-happy their beloved boys found a mate. When you're not so full and sex-brained, they'll properly introduce you and save you a seat at the dinner table. You're going to be part of the Leech family from now on, so you'll be seeing more of Jade and Floyd. And unfortunately it won't be once a year.

[inajda]

i’m back! this time doing some observations based on readings I did, charts I looked or just by seeing people. if you have doubts feel free to ask anything.

• when a person has a scorpio rising, the energy they give is way more intense at first sight than a person with a scorpio sun. since scorpio is the sign on the cusp of the 1st house and this house is originally ruled by mars, it gets activated by action, so a scorpio rising will often act more like the characteristics of the sign then someone with an actual scorpio sun. it’s easier to see at naked eye.

• people who have aquarius venus tend to attract most of the time weird individuals. it’s an overlooked placement reduced to non monogamy, but it’s so much more than that. i observed that people with this placement can often be taken advantage off, because aquarius can be selfless when it comes to helping people and that being the way aquarius operate, in contact with venus it can make people with this placement more vulnerable to this kind of situation.

• moon in capricorn and moon in cancer are different sides of the same coin. both have very different styles to how they demonstrate their feelings but when it comes to being valued of their emotional labour they often get overlooked. people take them for granted because is often similar to a primary source of emotional support, like a parent. you know is their obligation to do what they do, but you don’t know that it takes an active thinking and a never ending job of keeping things like they’re always supposed to be. nice, warm and stable.

• your lilith placement will always eat you up. unless you truly recognize the lesson she’s wants you to know, she gonna chew you alive. is different from a saturn lesson, lilith is not about time, is about seeing what you don’t want to see and acknowledge in a conscious mindset, is to not let people transform you into what they think you are, your conscious mind is the most powerful gift lilith can give you.

• looking at your jupiter and knowing how to read the place it’s in can help you how to manifest things you want and do really witchy stuff. to learn how to track abundance and good luck. jupiter is a really powerful sorcerer that has the power to attract what he wants but he’s also a show off, so be careful with how you act because there’s gonna be people watching you.

• one of the most prominent place your mars placement is going to show off is when you get into an argument. i’m a sagittarius mars so a I have the terrible habit of thinking I own the truth in everything and never admitting i’m wrong. a pisces mars can get a bit manipulative if it feels it does have a way to go. a gemini mars will deceit you into think they’re right no matter what, even if they realized they’re in the wrong mid argument.

• the 12th house is the worst place to have a malefic planet (saturn and mars) or challenging placements (square or opposition). in traditional astrology is consider to be the place of bad spirit since it’s above the 1st angular house representing the self, meaning that the 12th represents hiding of the self, events that happen in the natives life that is not easy to access or even acknowledge. this is a very simplified explanation, I can maybe do another post on this since it’s a long subject to cover.

[johnwickb1tsch]

A Walk in the Clouds/Don John crossover outline Part 1 ~

Paul Sutton x fem!Reader x Don John triangle

I don't know if I'll ever have the time to properly write this out, so have an outline. 😆 My huge thanks to @scarlettspectra for helping me get this ball rolling 😘😘😘 your ideas are awesome as ever!! And my girl gang @treedaddymcpuffpuff and @sweetwolfcupcake of course!! And and...I did it. I changed Don John to the proper don Juan here, because it was driving me effing crazy so...that's what that's about. 🤣 Warnings: hmm horny teenagers, fear of pregnancy? Parental death. Period correct misogynism.

-Your family has served the Aragons at Las Nubes vineyard for as long as anyone can remember. They like to say they’re descended from royalty, by way of a son conceived by the King outside the sheets, exiled to the New World, but the truth is you all came to California with the de Anza expedition in 1776 with nothing but the clothes on your backs, some rootstock, and hope for the future. 

-Once upon a time, your families’ land adjoined each other, but years and years ago your ancestors lost everything in a fire, and the Aragóns took you in. They’ve never let you forget it. 

-Especially not don Juan, the handsome-as-the-Devil head of the family, who has always had his eye on you. He thinks he owns you, like he owns the hundreds of broadacres that surround the compound, the vines and the farm animals and the houses where the workers live too. This is his kingdom, and he rules with exacting expectations. 

-You were a bright young thing, and you were allowed to sit in with Juan and his siblings with their tutors. Your father complained it would give you ideas of wanting to see the world outside of Las Nubes, but your mother insists you be allowed to go. One of nine children, all girls, you had watched your mother literally kill herself having babies and laboring for the Aragóns. She died in childbirth when you were on the cusp of adolescence. Your father was always a stern man, but he became even more distant after her death, he was never the same.

-You’ll always have a soft spot for don Juan, and maybe once you even fancied yourself in love with him. He is what he is, proud, conniving, and cocksure–but you happen to know he has a softer side. The pool is shallow in the insular world of the vineyard, and perhaps its inevitable that you have a teenage fling. On the night of the harvest, a celebration that always borders on a pagan rite when it goes well, he took your virginity in the dark amidst the vines. He could never marry you, of course. That was already arranged, to some lady of good family in Mexico, years in the future. But as your affair goes on and you learn about each other’s bodies, the way curious young people do, he tells you he intends to keep you as his mistress. You’d never want for anything, and you’d bear his children, and work for his household, the way women were meant to in your traditional world that seemed still stuck in the 1800s. As you lay there in his arms, the thought made you want to die. 

-You were so relieved when you bled, a couple of weeks later. That was when you decided you were going to strike out on your own. You find work in San Francisco, first as a maid, then as a typist with a publishing house. You’ve always loved books and you have an affinity for letters. You meet lots of interesting people, although you find even the men of the “counter” culture just want a woman to suck their dicks and wash their socks. Everything is the same, even when it’s different… Maybe you’ll write a book about that someday. 

-You get a letter from Las Nubes. Your father is dying, and you know you have to make the trip back to the vineyard one last time. You slipped out under the cover of darkness when you left, afraid don Juan might physically prevent you from leaving. You're a little afraid to go back–you don’t really know what he’ll do. His temper is a thing of legend at the vineyard, and you know he surely perceived your leaving as a betrayal, even if you were just pursuing your own life choices.

-A seemingly God sent solution practically falls into your lap, when you meet Sgt Paul Sutton, a newly discharged soldier just home from the War. He is almost too sweet to be true. On the road with a briefcase full of chocolates he doesn’t really seem interested in, his marriage to his wife he barely knew freshly annulled, he doesn’t know what he’ll do next. After he saves you from two creeps on the bus (and getting kicked off himself) you propose he accompanies you back to Las Nubes posing as your husband. Surely don Juan won’t pester a married woman?

-yeah right!

-Outwardly, don Juan welcomes you home, but you can tell for the sharp way those obsidian eyes weigh you, that he’s planning something. He so graciously gives the two of you a room in the hacienda, a gift for the newlyweds. You know it’s just so he can more easily keep you under his thumb. Honorable to his toes, Paul insists on sleeping on the floor. When you tease him he tells you bluntly that he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands to himself, in bed with you. You bite your tongue, wanting to tell him that maybe you wouldn’t mind that so much. 

-Your father is bedridden and slowly fading. You do your best to take turns with your siblings caring for him and keeping him comfortable. He likes it when you read to him. Sometimes you even read him things that you wrote, and he smiles and nods without opening his eyes. You don’t tell him you’re the author, but deep down you wonder if maybe he knows anyway. It’s the most validation you’ve ever received from him, since your mother died. 

-At first your family isn’t sure what to make of Paul, appalled that you would marry a gringo, an outsider from your Californio community, without the fanfare or blessing of the Church. But he’s a hard worker, and has a heart of gold, and they start to warm up to him. You find it very amusing, when the old men get Paul drunk and try to teach him Spanish love songs for you (while eating the last of his chocolate). It becomes a game, trying to teach Paul how to pronounce words. He’s hopeless, and you find it endlessly endearing. 

-He’s so sweet, and handsome, and true. Of course, you start to fall in love with Paul, even though you don’t really want to. He told you he wants a house and a family and a dog. Wholesome things he absolutely earned, after surviving the Hell of the Pacific front. You’re not sure what you want, exactly, except to be free. As time goes on, you’re beginning to understand that maybe true freedom comes at the price of being alone–you’re not sure how to reconcile that. You start to have more sympathy for the choices of the adults around you, understanding the “trap” you always thought they fell into without thought, as simply the way life marches on. That maybe domestic life doesn’t have to be slavery, if you’re laboring out of love rather than just what’s expected of you because of your gender. 

-Or maybe, your nubile young brain is just poisoned by lust and hormones. You don’t trust your own judgment.

TBC...

chapter map

[ddagent]

Happy First Day Back at School!

"Good morning." The receptionist didn't look up. "My name is Margaret Reynolds?" Still no response. Margo wrinkled her nose as she explained why she was here at all. "I'm the new substitute?"

At that, the receptionist at Spiro T Agnew High School looked up and gave Margo what she needed: ID, class list, directions to her classroom. The receptionist eyed her carefully, taking in the support bandage around her wrist, the welts on both. The slight crack in one glasses lens and fashion that was 'Soviet chic' (which it was). But then she blinked, and moved on to getting Margo the rest of her paperwork. No doubt she thought Margo just another retiree dragged out to help the state's teaching crisis. Certainly not a Russian defector who had been tortured by Russian state police not one week earlier.

"Head down that corridor, ask for Mister Bezukhov. He's the head of Physics; he'll help you."

And just like that, Margo began her illustrious, if temporary, teaching career. "Thank you."

With a nod, Margo moved down the corridors of the Iowa high school. She had rarely stepped foot into such academic halls; Emma had always rejected any invitations for her to speak at graduations, careers events. Margo hadn't wanted to stand on a podium and be an inspiration: she'd wanted her work to speak for itself. The work. That was why she was here after all. That was why she was hidden. After eight long years sitting in a Moscow apartment staring at the walls, Margo was on the cusp of returning to what she loved most.

All it had taken was a major accident on an asteroid and a coup in the Soviet Union.

But until NASA had the report from Roscosmos – and until the CIA could be sure the KGB wouldn't kill her for her re-defection – Margo was stuck here. In Iowa. She wasn't allowed to return to Houston without her handler. Not permitted to contact Aleida. Not permitted to even try to find—

"Sergei."

Margo couldn't believe it. It had to be someone else. There was no possible chance that the CIA would have stashed her away in the same town they were keeping another high-profile defector. But it was him. Same bright, unyielding smile. Same eyes that missed nothing, whether it be calculations or trajectories or some kid heading off to smoke in the bathroom. Same love of sweaters. He looked good. So good. Better than the last time she had seen him in person: he wasn't coughing up blood into a handkerchief, his face wasn't gaunt, his eyes not always cast over his shoulder, waiting for the next KGB blow.

But as she took in Sergei Nikulov, her heart filling with something akin to joy, she caught sight of his right hand, and the wedding band nestled on his finger. Of course he was married. Of course he'd moved on.

Margo was suddenly experiencing a depressurisation event. All the oxygen had been sucked out of the room and she couldn't breathe. Couldn't think, couldn't function. She just needed to go. Couldn't face him; couldn't ruin the careful existence he'd carved out for himself. A life. With a wife and a job and a house and all the things Margo never could have given him. I need to go.

She stumbled back, right into a group of twelfth graders. There were a few cuss words offered that reinforced Margo's continual decision never to procreate. And then Sergei was behind her, telling them to be more respectful, to be professional in these hallowed halls of learning. They got five paces away before the kids cackled. Do you hate this? Margo wondered, staring straight ahead at an emergency exit. Or is this better than staring at the walls?

"I apologise for their conduct; they are not all like that." Margo could not turn around. Could not greet the smile that was no doubt waiting for her, before it faltered at the sight of her. "You are Ms Reynolds, yes? I am Sergei Bezukhov. I have been looking forward to having another engineer here."

He laughed. It quickly died in his throat. He took a step closer. "Is everything alright?"

Margo turned around. What else could she do? She turned around and watched as the colour drained from his face and she satisfied an eight year old promise she had never thought she'd keep. "Hello, Sergei."