#belle!! here is ur set!!

[chwejongho-archive]

❄️ your winter gift has arrived, @xuseokgyu! ❄️

a series of gifts for mutuals through december!

[theragethatisdesire]

pretty girl - jean kirschtein x afab!reader - 18+!!!

there's def more eren coming but while that's in the works please enjoy the result of the jean brainrot i experienced the other day. fair warning- it's going to get pretty rough, but that's what you asked him for ;)

pairing: reader x jean kirschtein

wc: 4.6k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, established relationship (jean's ur gorgeous bf lucky u), unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, pretty rough sex, vaginal fingering, biting, dirty talk, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, daddy kink, use of names (pretty girl, crybaby, good girl), very dom jean, multiple orgasm, dacryphilia/crying, creampie

this one was super fun and is very tasty u guys enjoy <3

-

-> be there in 5 babe :)

You are not looking forward to this, to say the least. You pace madly around your little apartment in a massive t-shirt and sweatpants covering the skimpiest lingerie set you own. It’s got all the bells and whistles: a matching garter belt, lace in all the right places, stockings that come up to where your plush thighs are the fattest. You should be looking forward to this, you tell yourself, candles lit and ambient lighting ready to go. You have a gorgeous boyfriend who’s going to “be here in five”, and you should be brimming with excitement. But…you’re just not.

Jean’s been in your life for a few months now. What had started as a run-in at the coffee shop around the corner had turned into candlelit dinners, movie marathons, and exclusive titles, and you adore him. His sandy brown hair, the tattoo on his strong bicep, pretty hazel eyes– Jean’s sexy, loving, sarcastic, attentive, literally everything you could ask for in a boyfriend. Except when it comes to your sex life, that is.

The sex isn’t bad per se, you just can’t shake the feeling that he’s holding something back from you. He’s almost too perfect; he’s gentle with you, always taking care to ask permission before touching you, chaste kisses as he slides in, hand-holding in missionary. He cums every time, immune to the whiskey-dick you’d expect from his bourbon drinking habit, so you know he’s enjoying himself, but he doesn’t always seem all there. The fire just isn’t in him, and you know he has that side to him. You’ve seen those hazel eyes you love so much blaze, in a heated argument, at the gym. Why it doesn’t happen in your intimate moments is beyond you, it’s like he’s afraid to break you, like he’s not doing everything–

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Shit, knocking on your front door is what he’s doing.

You take one last look in the mirror: hair’s casual, but still sexy, makeup to a minimum, all straps and lace covered up by your inconspicuous pajamas. Time to potentially ruin your relationship.

“Hey beautiful,” Jean greets you with an innocent smile, “you look cozy.”

“Feel cozy,” you accept his kiss, chewing on your lip as he comes in. Your heart’s pounding in your ears; poor thing has no idea what’s to come. Maybe it’ll go well, you think; false hope might be the only thing that gets you to pull through with your plan.

“Have any movie ideas for tonight? I was thinking Hereditary, but only if you’re not too chicken…” Jean raises his eyebrows, a taunting smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Ha! If only he knew all of the things you aren’t “too chicken” for.

You smile weakly, stomach churning. “Maybe. Can we just…can we just talk for a sec?”

Jean’s playful demeanor drops instantly, replaced by a faint frown. “What about?”

You amble over to the couch, playing with the strings of your sweatpants anxiously. How the fuck are you even supposed to bring this up? Your mind’s racing so quickly it draws a blank, and before you can stop yourself, you blurt: “Sex.”

“Sex?” Jean’s cheeks tinge pink. He hasn’t shaved in probably a week, a shadow covering his sharp jawline. God, he’s gorgeous, you can’t mess this up, you really can’t.

“Yeah,” you confirm, “sex. Our sex, to be clear.”

“I figured as much,” Jean’s sat himself beside you now, one eyebrow raised suspiciously. He’s not upset, not yet, but you’ve definitely caught him off guard.

“I– I feel like we’re on different pages,” you stammer– fuck you are so bad at this, “I just feel like sometimes you’re so…gentle, and you don’t necessarily, like, have to be?”

Jean’s frowning full on now, a precious little wrinkle appearing in the center of his forehead. You’ve hurt him, and your heart sinks. Probably should have started with the pros. “Like…what do you mean, by ‘don’t have to be gentle’?”

“Our sex life is great,” you try to smile enthusiastically, as if you don’t actually want to blow your brains out right now, “please don’t think I’m saying you’re bad in bed or anything. I just, like– okay, for example, have you ever tried anything rough?”

His mouth is a flat line. “Like what?”

“Like, handcuffs, or roleplay, any of that stuff.”

“What have you tried?” His voice is even, collected, but there’s something simmering in him that you can’t put your finger on. It’s not anger, but it tastes similar, running in the same vein but not quite there. It’s your turn to feel your face warm.

“I mean, I’ve tried handcuffs before. Some light slapping, spanking.” You’re twiddling your thumbs, confessing into your lap. You can feel his eyes on you.

“That it?”

“I guess.”

“Did you…enjoy that kind of stuff?” He’s taking the bait. You finally meet his gaze and it ignites a little fire in your stomach; he’s never looked at you this intensely, brows pinched together like you’re a puzzle he’s trying to figure out. All of these little mannerisms are tells, you’re intuitive enough to know that, but exactly what he’s trying to convey you just can’t figure out.

“Yeah.”

“How rough are we talking, here?” Jean sounds deeper than normal, the slightest bit of strain to his words. That’s definitely new; Jean’s the most unshakeable person you’ve ever met.

“If I’m making you uncomfortable, I–”

“You’re not making me uncomfortable,” an easy chuckle floats out of his mouth, “just trying to feel you out is all.”

Your brows furrow. “Feel me out?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“Surprised?” Your nose wrinkles. “Did I ever give off the impression that I was, like, super vanilla or something?”

“No,” he laughs again, a bit of the tension melting from the room, “no, not that. We’re just still pretty new, that’s all. Wasn’t going to whip out everything in my toolbox ‘til I knew you were okay with it.”

That piques your interest; you think you’d very much like to see what’s in this toolbox of his. “So you do like some of this stuff?”

Jean rolls that thought over in his mind for a beat before responding, a suspicious smirk that you can’t read tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I guess you could say I like some of this stuff.”

“We’re back to my original question then: what do you like?”

“I’m more worried about what you like,” Jean says, “especially since you won’t come right out and say it. Gonna make me guess?”

That’s your Jean, blunt as ever. The fire in your stomach sparks and spits at the conversation, teasing and tempting. There’s something playful to his words; you can’t shake this feeling that you’re missing something, that he’s toying with you, but you like it. You let him keep pushing, see where he’s leading you. “Sure, guess.”

“Do you like…” Jean trails off, examining you with his chin nestled between his thumb and index finger, “to be dominant?”

“No.”

“Submissive, then.”

“Yeah.” He likes that, you can tell by the way his eyes glint at you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“Like to be tied up?”

“Already told you about the handcuffs.”

“I bet you have a praise kink.”

That has you flustered. There’s a sinking sensation in your stomach that you’ve underestimated him, waded out too deep into the water, but fuck it, you’re already here. “How’d you know?”

Jean smiles, pleased. “I just do. Overstimulation?”

“Sure.”

“Orgasm denial? Degradation?”

“If I deserve it.” It’s a bold answer, but it makes Jean suck in a sharp “fuck” between his teeth. Oh yes, you’ve definitely underestimated him.

“You like to be punished, don’t you?” His hand has traveled up to cup your jaw, thumb playing absentmindedly with your bottom lip. There’s an anticipatory warmth gathering between your legs, and the air between you both is practically crackling, charged by the tension thrumming through both of your bodies.

“Yes,” it comes out in a breath, almost pathetic, but you can’t help yourself. He looks so good, always does, and now he’s grazing his eyes over you like he wants to take a bite.

“You know how safewords work?” You nod a bit too eagerly. “Ours is going to be red, okay?”

“Okay,” you’re agreeing, but you aren’t entirely sure what to, caught up in the soft rubbing of his thumb over your mouth.

“If your mouth is,” a deep breath shakes through his frame, “occupied, give me a sharp pinch with your nails.”

“I can do that,” the tension between you is palpable now, the room’s so hot that you’re surprised your wallpaper isn’t peeling off.

“Go to your room,” Jean releases you, eyes dark and hungry, “take your clothes off and wait for me on the bed. I’ll be in soon.”

You follow his instructions without thinking twice, as if a switch has flipped in your brain. Maybe it was his tone, an authoritative way of speaking that threatens consequence, or maybe you’re just so ready to see what this perfect boyfriend of yours has been hiding all this time. As you’re getting undressed, you realize he still doesn't know about your lingerie. You bite back a smile, kneeling on the bed. This is going to be so good.

A minute or so ticks by slowly, and just when your legs are starting to ache, Jean’s entering your room. His face darkens in a way you’ve never seen before when he sees your little get up; lightning shoots through your core.

“Put on a pretty outfit just for me?”

“Mhm,” you hum.

“That’s good,” he says in that slow drawl of his, “good girl.”

He’s only testing the waters, but you can feel your body viscerally react to the little pet name, shifting on your knees to mask your desperate attempt for friction, dampness spreading in your panties. Jean sees right through your act, smirking.

Jean joins you in undressing, slipping his shirt over his head. You take your time admiring his torso; miles of long, lean muscle, little ripples by his ribs trailing into a ridiculous six-pack. Jean’s a confessed gym rat, and it shows in every little line along his body. You have to blink and look away before you start salivating.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Jean scolds, tilting your head up towards him, “eyes on me, got it?”

“Got it,” you answer. Jean frowns.

“That’s not very nice,” he says, “try again.”

You go out on a limb. “Yes, sir.”

Jean’s eyes glint again in that mean, pretty way you saw earlier. You did good, you did good for him. “Much better. Get on the floor.”

You slide off of your mattress, practically buzzing with anticipation, settling on your knees in front of him. A low groan rumbles in Jean’s chest.

“Look so good like that, my pretty girl.”

Oh, you really like that, nuzzling against his hand on your head. Jean smiles down at you, inching his pants down until that little thatch of brown hair starts revealing itself. “Open up for me, nice and wide.”

Your jaw’s dropped, mouth open and tongue out, expectant. Jean smiles wider, sharp and dangerous, pulling his cock out for you. He taps the head against your tongue a few times, even slaps you with it, facade faltering for a fraction of a second to gauge your reaction. You’re good for him, sitting still and patient with your mouth still open, a drop of drool starting to slide off the end of your tongue. Jean makes a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a chuckle.

“Oh, you’re an obedient little thing, aren’t you?” Your panties grow impossibly wetter, you wiggle on your thighs under him, earning yourself another slap of his cock on your tongue, heavy and drooling. “Gonna fuck this pretty face, okay?”

You close your mouth around his head, sucking lightly to show your approval. He’s not even touched you, not so much as a kiss, and your brain’s foggy, running like a hamster on a wheel chasing the circular thought of be good, be good, be good. Jean grabs your hair none-too-gently, tugging it at the roots, and starts canting his hips towards your mouth, muttering under his breath about how good you are, how good your mouth feels on him.

You lower your jaw ever so slightly, and before long, Jean’s picking up speed, knocking your gag reflex here and there and making you cough around him. He doesn’t seem overly concerned; in fact, he grins cruelly down at you when he hits an extra-sensitive spot, making you hunch and gag on him.

“Look at my pretty girl, so happy getting her mouth fucked,” he hisses when you moan around him, feeling the vibrations up his cock. He’s moving faster now, rougher than he’s ever been. You’re gagging with some regularity, tears welling up in your eyes and threatening to spill down your cheeks. You expect him to let up, give you some air, but it only spurs him on, and before you know it, there are thick streams of tears running down your face. Your jaw aches, your knees burn, but you stay, letting him use you how he pleases.

“Fucking crying on me,” Jean growls, “my cock too much for you?”

You try to answer with a shake of your head, but he’s relentless, fingers tightening in your hair and cock shoving to the back of your throat, making you retch.

“No, you love it, don’t you? My little crybaby.”

You’re so wet you can feel it gathering on the insides of your thighs, entirely soaked through your panties. You move your hips subtly, this way and that, desperate for friction. Jean notices, pulling out of your mouth but staying connected by a string of your spit.

“You squirming, pretty girl? Need some attention?”

“Yes, sir,” you rasp, nodding eagerly. Jean helps you up onto the bed, lays you back against his chest facing the mirror on top of your wardrobe. It’s a terribly lewd sight; you spread out in front of him, face swollen and teary, the telltale glisten of wetness glittering on your thighs.

Jean slides a hand down your body, rubbing you over your panties and nibbling at your ear. “You’re gonna watch me make you cum, and if I see you look away, I’m fucking you ‘til I cum, and you’re not getting a damn thing. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” your voice wobbles pathetically. Jean seems to like it; his cock twitches in interest against your back. He pushes your panties to the side, flicking his fingers faster over your clit. Embarrassingly enough, you’re already nearing your halfway point from the face-fucking, moaning and grinding up into his palm.

“Need something?”

“Mhm,” you grit out, jaw clenched. Jean slaps your pussy; not too hard, but firm enough to make you jolt, bring you a moment of clarity.

“Manners,” he reminds you sharply.

“I’m sorry, I– can I please have a finger?”

Jean’s placated, slides one finger into you and laughs hot against your neck at the obscene sound that tears from your throat. “What do we say when we get what we ask for?”

“Thank you– fuck, thank you,” your words are coming out in puffs of breathe. Jean has long, skilled fingers, a fact you’re already familiar with, but the position he’s put you in has you dripping onto the sheets: forcing you to watch as he pumps in and out of you, grinding into your clit with the heel of his hand. You’ll be lucky if you last another minute.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? My pretty girl likes being full, right?” Jean murmurs, hot against the shell of your ear. “Tell me.”

“Yes, sir, I– I like it, I need– fuck!”

“What do you need?” Jean coos, entertained, as if he’s not unraveling you with just the one.

“I want one m-more finger, please,” you stutter, relieved you’re able to get the words out at all.

“Learning so fast,” Jean kisses your shoulder, granting your wish. His fingers are thick, the slight stretch making you throw your head back against his shoulder, hips rolling into his hand of their own accord. “Still looking?”

You force your head back to its upright position, mindful of the threat in his tone. His fingers work faster at your obedience, curling insistently against the gummy spot inside your walls that makes you see stars, makes you a little out of your mind with need. It’s that out-of-mind dizziness in your head that causes your little slip-up:

“Fuck, please, more- more, Daddy.”

Jean’s fingers still; it’s not until you’re halfway into a whine of disappointment that you realize what you’ve said. Your face burns; you meet his eyes in the mirror, yours shot wide and embarrassed. You trip over your words, trying to explain yourself. That definitely hadn’t been mentioned in your earlier conversation.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, I just–”

“Just what? Already so fucked out you can’t think straight?” Jean curls his fingers pointedly against your walls, punching a groan from your chest.

“Yeah,” you sigh, head growing cloudy again.

“Say it again.” That definitely isn’t what you expect to hear him mutter against your neck. Jean works a third finger into your cunt with some difficulty, stretching you to your limits. “Fucking say it, or you’re not cumming.”

“Oh my God, D-Daddy,” your cries are pathetic, punctuated by whimpers. The bubble in your stomach is about to pop, the tension growing unbearable. You’re almost there, grinding into his hand pitifully and babbling, when Jean takes one of his hands to grab your throat roughly. He holds you captive, staring at your own stretched cunt on display for you in the mirror.

“Good, good girl,” he says, “now watch Daddy make you cum.”

The band inside you snaps viciously; your back arches away from him, and you squirt, gushing all over your bed sheets, inhuman sounds tearing from your throat where you struggle under his hand. Jean’s working you through the whole thing, still steadily pumping his fingers and whispering dirty little nothings into your ear. It finally begins to quiet, overstimulation washing over you. You push urgently at his wrist, mumbling something or other about “too much, too much”.

Jean mercifully obliges, pulling his hand from you with a shameful sucking sound, giving your pussy another light slap.

“Such a good girl for me, yeah? How you feelin’?”

“Good, so good,” you slur, “I’ve never– never…”

“Never squirted?” Jean’s eyebrows shoot up at your answering nod before a smug expression settles over his face. “Such a fun little toy, aren’t you? Just wait, you’ll get used to it soon enough.”

Your cunt clenches around nothing; so he can make you do that? Again? Jean’s slid out from behind you and is repositioning your limp body, dragging you down the bed by your ankles to line you up with his cock. He bends your knees up, pressing them close to your head. Jesus, he’s going to kill you at this rate.

“Want me to fuck you?”

“Please,” you hate the begging lilt to your voice, but you’re beyond fighting it. You gave up the reins a long time ago when you knelt for him, let him call you a good girl, let him fuck your throat.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl, Daddy’s gotcha,” Jean starts bullying his way into your pussy, still tight and pulsing from your orgasm. “Shit, got a tight little cunt, don’t you? Feels so good– fuck.”

You’re simpering under him, barely able to process the stretch of his cock in you. He’s well-endowed and you’re overwhelmed, a dizzying combination for your fucked-out brain to handle. Just when you think he might be in your throat he’s so deep in you, his hips press to the back of your thighs, both of you letting out a long groan at the feeling.

“So pretty,” Jean muses, not moving yet, just placing a thumb on your clit and absentmindedly playing with it, “such a beautiful pussy.”

You whine, frustrated. He glares at you, landing a harsh smack to your inner thigh.

“I’m not going to warn you again.”

“Please fuck me, oh God, please,” you pant, past the point of humility. Jean licks his lips, presses his palms deep into the backs of your knees, practically folding you in half. He gives you what you ask for.

You’re jolted back and forth on the mattress, mouth hung open in a silent scream as he splits you open on him, forces every inch deep into you. His tip’s kissing your cervix, pain blooming in your abdomen, but you don’t even care, so lost in the rhythm of his hips.

“Jean, I– oh my God,” you try to tell him how good he feels, but all you get is a firm hand around your throat.

“Who’s fucking this pretty cunt up, hm? Fucking you good and deep? Who is it?”

“Daddy,” you choke out, breathless, “Daddy’s.”

“There you go,” Jean’s focused on where you’re connected, eyes never leaving the frothy white ring forming around the base of his cock. You’re crying again, vaguely aware of the streams of tears running down your temples, into your hairline, but fuck, he just feels so good your brain can’t even process it. Jean takes notice, wipes one of your tears and licks it off of his thumb. “Cute fucking crybaby, all happy and cockdrunk, aren’t you?”

You whimper some semblance of an agreement, feeling the band of tension in you already getting stretched to a breaking point. He’s at an angle that allows him to hammer into the most delicious spot inside of you, rubbing against it with each thrust.

“Gonna cum soon, I– I’m gonna cum soon,” you manage, locking his gaze.

“Let me feel it, go on, do it for me,” Jean pants, squeezing your neck tighter. The lack of air goes to your head; the room spins until all you can focus on is him pounding into you. You cum violently, throbbing around his cock, thrashing against his strong arms. Jean fucks you through it, never losing his pace. “Good fucking girl, just like that.”

You’re practically wheezing as your senses return to you, clawing at Jean’s arm on your throat. He lets up on your neck, smiling down at you. “Feel good?”

“Mhm,” you hum, blissed out and half-asleep until Jean flips you, forcing you to prop up on your hands and knees. “Wait, Jean–”

“Wait?” Jean scoffs, sliding back into you. You let out a little cry, and he smacks your ass sharply. “This is what you asked for, right? Said I was being too nice to you.”

“I didn’t– oh my god…” your eyes roll back into your head, a well-placed thrust cutting your words off. “It’s so…it’s so much, Jean.”

Jean lands three more sharp slaps to your ass, already thrusting into you at a brutal pace. “What was that?”

“T-too much, Daddy,” you collapse, face shoved into the bed to mask the pitiful cries leaving your mouth. It is too much; if you tuck your chin to your chest, you can see a little bulge in your tummy where he’s fucking into you, another orgasm already building in the pit of your stomach. You feel like you might pass out if he makes you cum again, but he’s ruthless.

“Too much?” Jean coos, fisting your hair to turn your face. He’s glaring down at you. “You were practically begging me for it, and my pretty girl gets what she wants, right? Said you wanted it rough, so you’re going to fucking take it.”

You nod miserably, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Jean hisses when you clamp down around him. “Squeezing me so goddamn tight, this pussy.”

You feel a hand start thrumming insistently against your clit and nearly shriek; your pussy’s so swollen, so sensitive already. You claw at the bedsheets, feeling something warm and wet swelling inside of you.

“Daddy, I– fuck, it’s, it’s–”

“Gonna make you squirt again,” it’s a promise from behind your ear, “you’re gonna squirt on my cock and Daddy’ll cum for you, okay?”

“I can’t, I–” you’re wailing, words cut off by your own moans. Jean loves it, you can feel his thrusts growing more urgent against your hips, so deep in you you could choke.

“You can,” he corrects you, hand moving faster, “want Daddy to cum in you?”

“Yes, please, p-please,” You cry, letting him use you as he wishes. 

“I’ll give it to you, gotta cum first, you can do that, can’t you? Taking me so well, pretty girl, just need you to cum one more time for me.”

“Uh-huh,” the edges of your vision are starting to close in. He’s ruthless, hips slamming into yours hard enough to bruise, cock stretching you out so nicely, you can’t hold it, but you know, somewhere deep in this primal part of your brain, you need to be good, need to ask him. “Need to cum, Daddy, please– please let me, I–”

“Go ahead,” Jean shushes you, hips moving impossibly faster, “be a good girl, let me feel it.”

That tips you over the edge and Jean makes good on his promise; your cum is dripping out of you, spraying onto his thighs and ruining your sheets. You’re thrashing your head back and forth and sobbing through your orgasm, pinned and powerless under him. Jean swears at the vice-like grip you have on him; it doesn’t take him long to follow suit, pressing himself as deep as he can go, cumming in you. He bends over you as he does, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to him, kissing you hard in a mess of tongue and teeth. You feel it warming your stomach, moaning appreciatively until you both collapse in a sweaty mess of limbs, gasping for breath and clutching onto one another.

Jean allows himself a few moments to catch his breath, and then he’s pulling out of you, leaving you empty and whimpering. He shushes you, holding you close to his chest and letting you work through the intense session in his arms. You’ve never been so fucked out, nuzzling into his chest and simply letting him hold you, letting the aftershocks wrack through your sore body. After a few minutes you’re coming to; the haze begins to lift, and you peek up at him, unsure of where to start after…that.

“You okay?”

You turn the words over in your mouth before you can get them out, still feeling a bit like you’re floating. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. That was…wow.”

Jean, the man that just held you down and forced what were probably life-threatening orgasms out of you, blushes. “Yeah, it was really something.”

“Yeah, it was,” you agree, giggling despite yourself. Your mind is still a little cloudy, a little soft after everything. “But it was good. So good.”

“Yeah?” Jean grins, hoisting you up into his lap so you can both sit up, still cradling you to his chest. “Not too gentle, was I?”

Your face grows hot, you want to hide it behind your hands. “No, not too gentle.”

“You were right earlier,” he admits, “I was definitely holding out on you just because the way I like to…I mean, I don’t think I need to get too into it, you were there. It can be a lot. Didn’t want to push you too far.”

You hum contentedly, playing with the little gold chain he always wears. “I understand that now, but I’m a big girl. I can handle whatever you want to give me, promise.”

“Don’t say that,” Jean groans, “too tired for round two.”

Your hand falls into the mess between your thighs, and you wince. “Maybe after a shower?”

“Greedy,” Jean tuts, scooping you up with him to make the journey over to your bathroom, “my greedy, pretty girl.”

[togenabi]

the language of flowers

gojo satoru x reader (royalty au)

♡—All your life, you have been training for the role of Empress... But nothing could have prepared you to be Satoru's wife.

word count♡— 4.7k (I came back swinging y'all)

genre♡— fluff, royalty au

aged up characters♡— 18+

content notes♡— arranged marriage, romance, crown prince (maybe ooc) gojo, flowers, no use of y/n, afab!reader, ur a princess we're all princesses, minor chara oc's, mentions of my other au's, reader's father is a jerk, reader is tough but falls hard, not fully proofread

author's note♡— this took a while! september was ridiculously busy for me but I did my best with this to compensate! this is also very self indulgent, but I hope you enjoy it! xoxo, belle

As a child, you found out of your engagement to the Crown Prince by accident.

On a chilly winter's evening, you had been chasing the Royal Secretary's cat around the palace. Your father, the King, would frown upon you playing games at this hour. You should be writing essays, learning dance or banquet etiquette.

But all that can wait, you think. You've just spotted the end of a fluffy tail dart around the next corner.

When you catch up to it, the orange tabby is curiously peering into a room—whose grand double doors are slightly ajar. Eyes widening, you quicken your steps but make sure to minimize any sound. The last thing you needed was to be spotted skirting your duties right in front of the King's study.

You let out a huff of relief once you've gently picked up the cat, your arms hugging it to your chest.

Just as you're about to sneak away, however, you hear your name.

From the gap in the door, streams of golden light pour out; contrasting with the darkness of the hallway. The silhouettes of your father and his Secretary leave shadowed patterns on the floor.

You listen, as these silhouettes plan your future without you.

“Ha!” The King bellows. “My daughter. Empress. I never thought I'd see the day.”

Your heart stutters. What?

“When will you inform her, Your Majesty?”

The shadow on the painted tiles waves a hand dismissively as your father does.

“I'll leave that to you, Montgomery. Tell her that she should be honored.”

Heavy footsteps sound as he paces. “It was concerning to have a daughter as a firstborn. I knew she couldn't be made to rule what I've built, but I'll finally have a steady pawn in The Empire once she's sent away.”

Pain shoots into you. Your eyes begin to sting. You had always known your brother was the favorite despite all the hard work you've put in, but to be spoken of as a pawn... Could it be that you have not worked hard enough?

You suddenly remember where you are. Remember how slacking off brought you here. Heartbroken, you hug the cat tighter.

The words your father speak as you walk away deepens the dagger in your chest.

“Do not settle for anything less than perfect for her coursework. She's to be Empress, after all.”

On that chilly winter's evening, your heart froze over like the snow-covered branches looming outside.

...

Several years later.

The carriage goes over a bump in the road, but you do not show discomfort or act without grace. Your expression is controlled and your posture is correct as you balance yourself.

Across from you, Secretary Mont holds a newspaper up, the front page faces you as he reads. Large bold letters take up the entire upper half of the paper:

‘CITIZENS QUESTION IF EMPRESS-TO-BE IS WORTHY OF THE CROWN PRINCE’

You scoff. It makes Mont meet your gaze over the paper before flipping it; he frowns disapprovingly at the front-most article.

“Do not mind them, Your Highness.” He folds the paper and sets it aside—as if it would help prove his point. “The people are not used to your presence yet, but they will be. They will see how you are the perfect choice for Empress.”

The Princess is power hungry, someone who was interviewed had said. You wanted the Empire for yourself, apparently.

Jealous. Vain. Possessive. Dramatic.

Shifting your gaze to the window, you contemplate what you had done to garner such a negative image. Could you have done anything differently?

Your father's face appears in your mind's eye. That same ever-present scowl on his face as he says you should do better. You should be grateful. You should be nothing less than what you've been preparing all these years for. Everything must be perfect.

The Imperial Palace comes into view. It stands high and grand, shining under the bright midday sun. The cloudless blue sky above it makes the scene picturesque.

After the wedding in four months, it is to be your new home.

The Imperial Princess, your betrothed's younger sister, greets you when you arrive. You curtsy to each other, and she surprises you by reaching out to take your hands in hers. She gives them a firm yet friendly squeeze.

“I'm pleased to welcome you, my sister-to-be.” She beams, and you return the look with your own small, composed smile.

“I am honored to be here. Thank you for taking the time to receive me personally.” You gently lower your hands, letting her go.

She leads you inside, passing lines of palace staff as you enter.

“Congratulations on your own engagement, by the way.” You say honestly. After assessing her for a moment, you carefully remark, “I hear you and Prince Toge are quite happy.”

“We are.” She nods, smile glowing even more at the mention of her beloved. “Please allow me to say that I hope you and my brother find your own happiness, despite the ‘political arrangement’ of it all.”

“I thank you for your well-wishes.”

“Would you like an escort to your chambers?” The Princess offers once you reach a grand curving staircase.

“If you have other duties, I will not keep you.” You give her a bow, the ends of your dress brushing the polished marble flooring.

“Very well.” She nods. “A servant will inform you when dinner is ready.”

Gathering your skirt, you make your way up the steps to the east wing, where the guest chambers are.

Your eyes find the path to the west wing, where the royal families' rooms can be found. Soon enough, you would be heading there instead of east. Hopefully, the Prince will be amicable to live with.

The chambers reserved for you are exactly how you remember them. It's spotless and feels homey despite you only visiting a few times a year.

This is the only place you can be truly alone. Your father, try as he might, has no power here.

You step towards the balcony, opening the glass doors that lead outside. The wind caresses your skin like a soft kiss to your cheek, and you take a deep breath to savor it.

Four months.

That's all you have left. Four months of freedom here.

Another breeze passes. It carries with it a tiny dandelion wisp. Catching it almost feels like holding onto air, and yet it is there between your fingers. Small and weighing nothing, but there nonetheless.

For such a small thing, it strengthens your resolve.

You're not here for freedom. You're here to be Empress. And that's all that matters. You will not let anything get under your skin and interfere with your responsibilities.

...

So you said, only to find yourself in a very unexpected situation.

Dinner was uneventful, your only gripe was that your betrothed was not present. You had hoped to show everyone that you got along well... Even if you've only really spoken a handful of times.

However, once you returned to your chambers, you spot the balcony door open once more. Beyond it, looking out at the view of the city, was the Crown Prince himself.

You try not to let your unpreparedness get to you. Bowing respectfully, you greet him. “Good evening, Your Highness. May I ask what brings you here?”

The Prince turns to you, crossing one ankle over the other as he casually leans on the balcony.

“There you are.” Satoru says, his head tilting as he observes you.

You eye him warily, trying to decipher his intentions. If he wanted to see you, he could have simply shown up to dinner. “What are you doing?”

He steps forward. You step back. “Is it a crime to want time alone with my—”

Sighing, you should have expected him to want more time with the future—

“—wife?”

The word knocks the wind out of you.

Of all the names you have been called, ‘wife’ is a new addition to the list.

You are your parents' daughter, your country's princess, and are to be the Empire's most powerful woman.

And yet, to one person... to Satoru, you are to be his wife.

It's almost strange to think about. Your earliest memory of your betrothed is back when he was small and scrawny. It was difficult to take him seriously back then.

Now, something has changed in him. Or it could also be that he's always been like this, and this is a side to him he doesn't show to others that often.

Satoru watches you process the word, seeming to have something to say, but decides against it. You half expected him to tease you for being flabbergasted, but he patiently waits for you to speak first.

“Why are you here at this hour?”

He grins, eyes bringing shame to those distant stars hanging in the sky behind him.

“I didn't want our first meeting in ages to have so many spectators." Satoru explains. “If I had shown up earlier, the scribes would have taken note of how many times I blinked or how fast I chewed."

His jesting does not put you at ease at all. “I have a feeling you have something to say that should not be recorded or overheard.”

“That's true. However,” Satoru says pointedly, “The hour is far too late for all that I wish to say, so I will simply bid you goodnight with this...”

Out of nowhere, he pulls out a red flower with curling petals.

You keep your eyes on his as you reach for the flower's stem. Satoru watches you back, smiling softly. He's backing away before you can thank him, but he doesn't look like he minds. He seems to be happy you didn't reject it.

“Goodnight, my dear.” He bows, and makes his exit.

...Through the balcony. Again.

You step out and try to find where he disappeared to, but he's gone.

The moonlight out here allows you to get a better look at the flower. How curious. Usually, people in the Empire give roses, don't they?

The red carnation twirls between your fingers, and you think of how much more grand and tangible it is compared to the dandelion wisp that found you before dinner.

...

Carnations mean many different things, according to this book on the language of flowers you picked up. It all depends on the color.

Pink carnations symbolize fondness and remembrance. Some also consider it to mean not being able to forget someone.

White carnations mean purity, good luck, and new beginnings. It's a common way of wishing someone safe travels.

Yellow carnations have varying meanings. Sometimes, they are used for apologies. But most often they are given to express disdain, symbolizing a hopeless state of mind. You stare at the illustration next to the passage. The yellow watercolor is so bright and vibrant, it makes you wonder what it did to deserve such sad connotations.

Setting the book down for a moment, you rest your eyes by scanning the library. Countless shelves with even more countless books. A golden candlestick here. A priceless painting there. A stack of yesterday's newspaper lying a few tables away.

Something unpleasant settles in your chest. You ignore it and resume reading.

Naturally, as is the case for most red flowers, the red carnation means love. True, passionate love and affection.

You shut the book softly, tracing the embossed petals on the cover while thinking of the red carnation sitting on your bedside table.

Things could have gone worse, you suppose. At least Satoru didn't give you a striped carnation, which has no other meaning than rejection.

Secretary Mont enters the library before you could dwell more on that thought. He's arrived with several palace staff for additional wedding plans.

“Your Highness,” Only Mont greets you, but they all bow in unison.

You nod, and gesture to the table. “Be seated. Let's begin with the urgent concerns first.”

Apparently, the most urgent problem was that Satoru had not approved any of the table dressing color schemes. When you review the options, you think you can assume why. There can only be so many shades of white and cream and pearl.

“What shall we do, Your Highness?” One of the butlers ask.

“Give me a few samples, I'll talk to the Crown Prince myself.”

You almost regret saying that, because once you did, several staff began tripping over themselves, requesting you bring up other preparations with Satoru.

Secretary Mont asks if he should schedule an appointment with your betrothed, but you decline. Something tells you that he will show up again tonight.

And so, here you were after dinner in your chambers. A box of wedding planning materials rests next to you on the bed. You left the balcony doors open this time, and he shows up just as you predicted.

“Aw, were you expecting me?” He's smiling at you as he approaches, but it falters once he sees the box.

He lets out a loud breath before settling on your bed too, the box sits between you. “Alright, let's do this.”

“Start with these.” You hand him some fabric swatches, he looks at them in disdain.

“Pearl, then.” He says, barely even looking through all the options.

“Don't decide hastily.” You can't help but reprimand. “It's not just the color you have to consider, but the material as well.”

Satoru blinks, but presses his fingers to feel the texture of the fabric at your suggestion. “Is pearl not good then?”

“It's pretty, but it's too shiny.” You explain. “The sheen doesn't make it soft or comfortable to use.”

“Ah.” He breathes out, understanding what you mean.

You tell yourself your heart doesn't beat louder when he picks the one you had your eye on. Satoru holds the sample fabric up, the label attached reads ‘Snow’.

A clean, classic sort of white. Soft to the touch, almost fluffy. You don't have to tell him that you agree, he can already guess from the way you glance at him.

He doesn't need to know that your eyes strayed to his hair. Soft. Fluffy.

Clearing your throat, you change the subject by bringing out some tableware samples. “Shall we discuss these, next?”

An hour and thirty kinds of invitation cards later, a short break is due. You're writing down your decisions when Satoru calls your name.

You've moved to your desk by now, since your bed has become some sort of wedding moodboard. Something clinking together reaches your ears, and you turn to find that Satoru had tea brought up. He pours you a cup and carefully hands it to you.

“Thank you.” You respond gratefully, taking a sip before turning back to the lists in front of you.

“Aren't you tired?” Satoru asks, reading your writing over your shoulder.

“This is actually quite easy for me.” You admit. “Wedding planning is unexpectedly... Pleasant.”

Satoru laughs softly. “You're probably the only one in this palace who thinks it's pleasant to work with me.”

After a moment, he continues. “I suppose... That's a good thing, if we're to be wed.”

His words make you pause writing. You suddenly feel shy, warmth spreading on your cheeks. The kind you're sure isn't from the flame crackling in the fireplace.

How silly that you're becoming bashful after being engaged to him since you were children. The thundering of your heart can wait.

“I agree.” You respond, not turning to face him. You will not allow him to see you uncomposed like you did the previous night. “I wasn't sure what to expect from our marriage, but I would appreciate it if we were companionable.”

The rest of the evening proceeds smoothly, though you do notice Satoru becoming more silent as the night goes on.

The next day, you spot Satoru speaking to foreign delegates. Something is different in the way he carries himself in front of them. His posture is that of a proper Emperor, not a cheeky prince that sneaks into your room at night.

... It's probably best that no one finds out about that, lest a scandal breaks before you even get married.

When the delegates leave, you're about to approach and greet Satoru when he, unmistakably meets your eyes, then walks in the opposite direction.

You're left there, confused and perhaps even a little hurt. But you stone your expression and carry on as if nothing has happened. Your lessons taught you to be graceful, even in times you feel anything but.

By late afternoon, it's painfully obvious that Satoru is ignoring you. When he rushes through his lunch and gets up right when you take your seat, you try your best to look unaffected.

Hopefully, you're the only one who's noticed so far. If word reaches Secretary Mont, word will reach your father... That troubles you more than you can put to words.

Satoru doesn't show up for your scheduled wedding planning session with the rest of the staff. You're careful not to say that you'll speak with your betrothed, and thankfully no one mentions it even if it shows they wish you did. You're not even sure if he'll show up at your balcony tonight.

When the hour turns ten, the time he's usually here, he isn't. You sigh and can't help feeling a little disappointed.

Perhaps you said something wrong last night. Maybe you should apologize for something. Or he could just be busy, you tell yourself. You can't expect the Crown Prince to always have time to sneak away to you, can't you?

Something taps against the glass of the balcony doors. It breaks your train of thought, and causes your heart to leap just a bit.

But when you go to check, no one's there. You open the doors to find a single red carnation, just like the one he gave the first night.

You're only barely successful at hiding your relief. You reach for it and glance around once more, just to make sure if he left any other trace of him. There are none, but after you lock the doors and turn in for the night, two carnations in a glass vase calm you in a way you hadn't let yourself feel in a long time.

...

A maid knocks at your door a tad earlier than you're used to. When you ask about what's going on, she says she has to prepare you for the Crown Prince's departure.

“He's leaving?” You ask as you rise from bed, already headed for the bathroom to clean up.

“Yes, Your Highness.” She sifts through your wardrobe for your clothes. “He is to go on a business trip to settle trade agreements.”

“How long will he be gone for?”

“I cannot say for certain, Your Highness.”

Pausing in thought, you look to the balcony doors.

A rush of determination fills you as you ask the maid, “Could you prepare something for me?”

The head butler said that he could be gone for two or three weeks. Weeks before you see that face of his, which has a surprisingly forlorn expression on it.

“Thank you for seeing me off.” Satoru acknowledges you with a smile, but his eyes reveal how tired and troubled he truly is.

You say nothing at first, silently taking steps closer to him. You could practically feel the air freeze over as everyone watching holds their breath. This is the closest the two of you have appeared in public.

You reveal a white carnation held in the hand you hid behind you. The stem is cut short, just enough so that it fits into the pocket on his coat.

“I will take care of things here while you're gone.” You assure him, taking a step back to admire how the white flower suits him.

Satoru seems to be at a loss for words, but his eyes regain their usual spark when he addresses you again. “It seems I have nothing to worry about, then.”

You feel stares at your back as the carriage departs, but pay them no mind. You intend to keep your word and perform your duties while the prince is gone.

On your way to the library, you overhear the Imperial Princess and Sir Nanami speaking to each other.

They're in the next hallway, and you were just about to turn to it when you hear your name spoken. You press your back to the wall and listen.

“I'm glad Her Highness seems to have liked my brother.” The princess says. “And of course, I know Satoru would have been over the moon because of that flower.”

Sir Nanami hums. “His concerns were nothing to be worried about after all.”

The princess laughs. “Oh, what was it again that he said? That she friendzoned him?”

“It was that she companion-zoned him.”

You huff quietly. So that's why Satoru had been ignoring you yesterday.

“I look forward to their blooming relationship. I'm sure Her Highness will come around.” Is the last you hear of their conversation as they continue on their way, their footsteps fading further into the hall.

Come around? To what?

A grandfather clock chimes to signal the change of the hour, and you realize you've dilly-dallied for long enough. The rest of your way to the library has no people whispering about you and your betrothed or the flower you sent him off with.

But you would be lying if you said you'd forgotten about what the princess said.

...

Ever since Satoru left, he's been writing you letters. He said his sister gave him the idea.

You've given up on replying on every letter he sends. It seems as though he writes to you daily, and you simply can't keep up. He insists on writing no matter how busy he gets.

His fifth letter is so short that it should be called a note:

‘The flowers here are lovely. I had a bookmark made for you.’

That same bookmark, a dried pink carnation, sits between the pages of the novel you're currently reading. It makes you consider pressing the red carnations Satoru had given you so that they're not just left to wilt.

You write back once a week. But what you lack in quantity of letters you make up with the number of pages you write, and you tell Satoru as such. There are many things you want to report, so you don't hold back on anything.

Well, perhaps you don't quite tell him that you can't fall asleep until you spot the moon through the balcony glass. Or that you think of him whenever you're not distracted enough.

In Satoru's fifteenth letter, he brings the unfortunate news that his return will be delayed. He will have been gone for four weeks before he comes home, and the journey back will take three days at the latest.

Unable to express your disappointment outright, you instead imply that he should make haste for the wedding preparations. That he shouldn't miss the food tasting or the floral arrangements.

‘I trust my wife to make all the right decisions. Even if you don't, I'll consider them right anyway.’

There he goes again, calling you wife when you haven't married yet. It also dawns on you that Satoru has only ever called you by name, or addressed you as his wife. He's probably the only person who hasn't referred to you as Empress-to-be.

You're quickly learning that with Satoru, you're finding yourself again. It's rare for you to feel more than just a princess or Empress in training, but he makes it effortless with just a few words.

...

You begin counting down the days when Satoru writes that trade negotiations have finally concluded. He should be home in four days, and you can hardly wait to see his face again.

But of course, Satoru finds a way to bewilder you by arriving home early. In the middle of the night, no less. And naturally, through the balcony.

Wiping the sleep from your eyes, you try to decipher if his visage is a dream or a trick or the light. But when he laughs, and tells you he missed you dearly, you need no further proof.

Satoru clasps your hands with his, running his thumbs over your fingers and knuckles. Your eyes travel down to his boots, which are filthy with dirt and grass. His hair is ruffled and windswept.

“Did you,” The word settles on your tongue when you pause. “...Rush here on horseback?” You ask incredulously.

Satoru laughs again, and wraps his arms around you. “Are you complaining?”

You blink, and tentatively wrap your arms around his middle. “No. I'm glad you're home.”

Satoru is so warm compared to the night air that surrounds you. You almost complain when he pulls back, but the serious look in his eye makes you keep your mouth shut.

He clears his throat and rubs your shoulders before taking your hands again. You're completely shocked when he sinks to one knee.

“I know that we're already engaged.” Satoru begins. “I know that we've been preparing for this for years, but I just wanted to ask you properly. Because you deserve it.”

He pulls out a ring, a diamond shines at its center.

“Marry me, and I shall spend every moment of my life proving my love for you.”

“Yes. I will.” You respond, and he slips the ring onto your finger. How does he keep getting more and more lovely?

You place your hands on the sides of his face, pulling him up to you. You kiss him, and the air ignites like a spark brought to life.

It's tender, and careful, and carries all the things you wish to say to him. How you missed him. How you love the flowers he gives you. How excited you are to have him by your side for forever.

When you break apart, he seems surprised to find you reflecting his happiness back at him. He's about to speak, but not before he can resist the urge to kisses you again.

You smile into the kiss, but place a hand on his chest, pushing him to ask, “You were about to say?”

“...I've always known I would treat you right when we got engaged. That was always a given.” Satoru cradles your face gently, making you feel like the most precious in the world to him. “You were chosen because you're smart, and you worked harder than anyone else.”

“...But I saw you one day, when we were kids.” He speaks carefully. “You were trying your best to impress your father, but not at all happy...”

“From then on, I decided to make it my mission to make you smile.” To prove his point, he places his thumbs at the corners of your mouth to drag them up playfully. You laugh and swat his hands away.

“A real smile, just like that! None of those diplomatic half-smiles you always throw out to please people. That won't work on me.”

“Before you are the Empress, you are my wife. And I will love and treasure you as such.”

...

He says those same words at the wedding. You jest that he has no originality, but it brings you to tears just the same.

The wedding happens in the palace gardens, surrounded by countless beautiful flowers that dance and sway under the sun when the wind blows. Everything is, in every sense of the word, perfect.

For this moment, you are not the Empress. Not yet. The world can wait a day, you decide. Everything else can wait while you bask in the glowing warmth this man offers you.

As you leave the ceremony behind with your arms linked together, Satoru leans into your ear so you can hear him over the cheering crowd. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” Petals shower you both on your way, and you can't help but smile. “Just that we're perfect together.”

Satoru laughs in agreement. “Damn right we are.”

Several staff are positioned at the exit of the gardens, ready to escort you both to the carriages that will take you through the Empire to greet your subjects... But something makes you pause at the end of the aisle.

You pluck a red carnation from one of the floral displays before turning to your husband. You tuck the flower into the chest pocket of his suit, snug in front of his pocket square.

When you glance up to see his reaction, he's already beaming at you, looking indescribably happy.

“I love you too.” He says, taking your hand and pressing the softest of kisses on top of your wedding ring.

When you sent him away back then, you remember thinking how the white carnation matched well with him. Looking at him now, however, the red flower over his heart seems to overflow with all the love and all the words that need not be spoken. You like this one much better.

He leans down to pluck another identical flower, and gently tucks it behind your ear.

Satisfied, he holds your hand tight, leading you to the rest of your lives with the assurance that he will never let go.

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added or removed from my taglist

taglist♡— @flowerjun @mellozhi

[roguerogerss]

complaining

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

w/c: 3.6k

warnings: literally full on SMUT, bit of swearing, underage drinking but only if ur american, coriolanus is a warning in himself.

a/n: help my smut writing has gotten so good the past few months this popped off so hard. been obsessed with coryo since the movie came out (you cant expect a mentally ill woman not to fall in love with him. you just cant.) so here’s this. i’m disgusted by myself too. bye. (requests r open, send me stuff here)

-

Livia Cardew's 18th birthday had been a mistake to attend. The party had been held at Pluribus Bell's nightclub, a place in which you only found yourself when you made an appearance at your friend's birthday parties, and the entire club had been packed, not only with Livia's family and your classmates from the academy, but with their friends and families, too.

Overall, there must've been three hundred people there, all tightly packed together, some drunkenly pressed against eachother, dancing, others swaying silently by the bar or stood by one of the table booths, yelling in eachother's ears to get their points across. You thought that, of the three hundred, you might only have known thirty.

Livia, unfortunately, considered you as a close friend, which was certainly true when you were young children, but, as the years had gone by, you'd actually found her, and most of the other girls in your class, to be almost insufferable. Nevertheless, you'd managed to land yourself an invitation to her family's mansion before the party had started, and you'd pretended to be having a good time, even although the crystal glasses that you were drinking from and the buffet that Mrs Cardew had set out on the gold-trimmed marble dining table, had settled a queasy feeling into the pit of your stomach.

The only other face in the Cardew's enormous living room that wasn't constantly grinning, was Crassus Snow's own son, Coriolanus, who you'd make eye contact with on occasion, and he'd send a small, knowing smile, and an eye roll back in your direction.

You liked Coriolanus, a lot, actually, you considered him to be your best friend, sometimes you even dabbled with boyfriend. But your classmates couldn't know that, simply down to the type of bond that you shared, and so, after every bout of eye contact, every blush-inducing smile, you'd simply turned your body away, back to Clemensia, or Livia, or Arachne, and waited for the next time you'd catch Coriolanus' eye. Of course, he was almost always staring - he thought you were the only thing in the room worth looking at - even while speaking to his fellow classmates, and so, every time you turned around, you'd repeat the process over again.

"Are you even listening to me?" Arachne would say, voice as booming as ever, and Livia would intervene, calling your name to have you rejoin the conversation.

The party had been terrible to begin with, the opulent nature of the Cardew household having you feeling sick, right from the get-go, and had only gotten worse when you'd all left and gotten into chauffeur-driven cars to be taken to the nightclub. You'd been sweaty just looking at the crowd when you arrived, and saying hello to classmates that you didn't like but had to pretend to for the social status of it all had exhausted you even further.

But the night had ended the same way it always did, with you leading Coriolanus Snow back to your apartment, hands loosely intertwined with eachother.

You and Coriolanus lived in much the same circumstances, both in the same apartment building, where the exterior and most of the homes inside were packed with marble and precious stone, the two of yours being an exception to this.

You'd both come from rich families, of course you had, this was the Capitol after all, but, after being orphaned in the war, you lived alone, in an apartment that seemed to have crumbled more every time you arrived home, with pieces of plaster falling from the ceiling day by day, and new cracks appearing in the walls as often as every hour.

Coriolanus was only slightly better off than you were, what with Tigris and the Grandma'am still living with him.

Ever since the war, you'd been on eachother's side, no matter the circumstance. If either of you had chance to sneak food from the dining hall of the academy, you'd share it between you, and if there ever came a cold winter, Coriolanus would invite you over, and let you share the scarce warm clothes and blankets he and his family owned, topped with a bowl of cabbage soup from Tigris.

You supposed your sleeping together after the very occasional night at Pluribus' nightclub had come naturally, and the sleeping together most every night for the past few months had been only the normal progression. You didn't mind it, but, of course, no one at the academy was ever to find out. It would only spark rumours, which would certainly mean that, soon enough, your classmates would find out about both of your financial positions, which could absolutely not happen.

Your nights together remained simply intimacy in the dark, and you supposed you were both okay with that.

Coryo had his first two fingers interlocked with your last two, and your arms swung between you as you walked ahead of him. Neither of you were particularly drunk, a personal choice rather than an inability, as Livia's parents had paid Pluribus Bell extra for their daughter's party to feature an open bar, which could've been taken full advantage of by the pair of you, considering you'd never have enough money to even get into Pluribus' normally, nevermind buy enough drinks to make you both feel lightheaded.

But the Cardew's were high up in the Capitol, and Livia's entire family was in attendance, which meant that, with them, came the rich and famous, government officials, celebrities. The two of you, not having rich parents to fall back on, couldn't risk getting blackout drunk. It was the kind of thing that was funny if you were affluent enough, but embarrassing and ill-mannered if you weren't.

"You know," Coriolanus gave your arm a particularly hard swing, "I think we're getting pretty good at that."

"Good at what?"

"The whole, pretending we don't really know eachother, thing."

You scoffed and turned your body slightly to face him. "We don't pretend we don't know eachother."

"Well, whatever you'd call it. Pretending we're just acquaintances?" Coriolanus moved his tongue around in his mouth a little, mulling over the words like he'd only been asking himself the question. And then he gave his head a shake. "No, we're definitely pretending that we don't know eachother."

"It was your idea." You shrugged. Your conversations seemed to often be pointed, but it was all in good spirits. You knew that you loved eachother really.

"I'm not saying it wasn't." You laughed at his remark, "I'm saying we're good at it."

"And you're happy to do it?" You raised an eyebrow at him and he shook his head almost too enthusiastically. Maybe the posca was stronger than you'd thought.

"Not particularly, but if it means that this keeps happening, and you keep sharing the food that you steal from the hall, then I could keep going." Your mouth fell open in feigned hurt, and you clamped a hand over your chest.

"You're only sleeping with me for stolen leftovers?"

Coriolanus shook his head and grinned at your joke, looking down at his feet, which were aching with how tight his boots were. "I'm kidding, obviously. Of course I don't like it, but you know what everyone's like."

"Yeah, but it wouldn't hurt to be friends in public." You swung your hands between you for a few seconds while Coriolanus considered your proposal. You were nearing your apartment, and you fumbled in your coat pocket with one hand for your key-card.

"No. No it probably wouldn't." He said finally and you gasped.

"Are you agreeing with me for once?" You'd reached your apartment complex, now, and the LED lights on the archway into the building were almost blinding when paired with the crystal chandeliers that lined the lobby. The pair of you began climbing the marble staircase that brought you to your apartment, which was situated on the second floor. You always found it almost comical, how the Capitol had kept it's glory in apartment buildings but that the people housed within some of them were one missed rent payment away from eviction.

"I always agree with you." Coriolanus laughed, giving your hand a tight squeeze. You pressed your keycard against the lock-pad and, the second the door buzzed open, you'd untangled your hand from Coriolanus' to undo the buckle on your too-high heels which had once belonged to your mother, who's feet were only one size bigger than yours and so you were able to just about get away with wearing her old, but still stylish, shoes.

"Only when we sleep together." You gave him a seductive wink which had him laughing.

"Which seems to be more often than not these past few months." Coriolanus took off his blazer and tossed it over your tattered sofa, which was beautiful in it's glory days, but was now cracked and moulting.

Your face had broken into a cheeky smirk as you approached him, your back still to the door as he faced you. "Are you complaining, Snow?"

In one, swift movement, Coryo had backed you into the door and had one hand on your waist, the other above your head. He cocked an eyebrow at you in a way that had you weak in the knees, "Do I seem like I'm complaining?"

"I'm not sure, pretty boy, you'll have to do better than that." Your smirk was still present, and, without hesitation, Coriolanus' lips were crashing down onto your own, with just as much hunger for you as you were used to.

He moved fast, he always did, and he'd removed your coat from your shoulders and thrown it to the floor without even a second thought, and was now twirling the straps of your dress between his fingers teasingly. Your hands roamed his chest, blindly searching for the buttons of his shirt, and, when you found them, you fumbled with them until you'd undone them all, and then you pulled it from his arms, so that he was in nothing but his father's old black slacks.

Your dress was Livia's - you'd told her you just couldn't decide what to wear, and she'd offered it up - and it was huge and puffy and made you vaguely resemble a cupcake, and so, when Coryo's fingers finally slipped under the straps and began peeling them down your shoulders, you felt an incredible sense of relief to finally be out of the thing.

When you'd stepped out of the dress, Coriolanus almost dropped it on the floor, but you stopped him, "Ah, ah! That's Livia's, I can't get it ruined. Her father would probably skin me to make a new one. Can you put it over the sofa?"

He laughed and obliged, he always did, draping the dress neatly over the arm of the sofa before coming back to kiss you, this time even rougher than before. His lips trailed down your neck, hands roamed your body, fingers familiarising themselves with the black lacy set you'd worn under your dress, the only reason being that you knew Coriolanus would be the one taking it off of you that night.

He pulled back from you for a second, admiring your form, how your waist dipped in and you curved back out at the hips, how perfectly the bra sat on your chest, and, most of all, how you were all for him in that moment, how you seemed to always be all for him. "Oh my God." Was all he seemed to be able to muster.

The underwear had actually been stolen from a boutique near your house, one owned by Coriolanus' own cousin's boss. But you figured he didn't need to know that.

Coryo's head had dropped to your collarbone, and his lips travelled all the way across your chest, occasionally sucking or biting, which had your breath hitching in the back of your throat. "You're taking your time tonight." You observed.

"Mm." He hummed against you and then brought his head up so that his icy blue eyes were staring straight into yours, "Do I still seem like I'm complaining?"

"Oh, shut up, Snow." You giggled and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him back down to kiss you again. Coriolanus seemed satisfied with his teasing of you, because his hands had started to travel south, until his lithe fingers had pushed your underwear to the side and he'd pressed one of them inside of you, earning a mewl of approval and making your back arch away from the door.

Coriolanus chuckled against your lips. "Every time."

"Again," You tried to sound convicted but whined when the tip of his finger brushed against a sensitive spot, "Shut up, Snow."

Your hands reached for his belt and he didn't stop you as you made quick work of unbuckling it and pulling it from his belt loops. As soon as it was on the floor, the button on his pants was undone and they were on the floor, too.

"Eager." Coryo remarked and you moaned as he added a second finger and increased his pace. Normally, by this point, he'd have you on your bed, or at least the sofa, but it seemed he wanted things to be different tonight.

As soon as a third finger found it's way inside of you, you were a moaning, whining mess, and your teeth sunk into Coriolanus' shoulder as you tried to stifle your whimpers. Your knees had started to buckle and you knew your legs would give way any moment now. "Coryo...Coriolanus, I can't...I can't stand up." You were so breathless that even trying to get a sentence out was next to impossible.

Coryo's free hand held you steady by the waist, fingers gripping your back and thumb pressed firmly into your stomach. "You can take it, honey. Know you can."

His words had you melting and you felt yourself nearing the edge as he curled his fingers inside of you. "Coryo, I'm gonna...God, you have to stop-"

"I'm not stopping. Want you to finish on my fingers before I fuck you." He'd never spoken so lewdly to you, ever, and it had you wondering what had gotten into him, at the same time as it had you clenching around him.

"Coryo!" You called out as you felt yourself getting there. "Fuck, Coryo-"

"I know, baby. I know, come on." He looked you right in the eye as he said, "Cum for me."

That was all you needed, you came undone right there, pressed against your apartment door, moaning so loudly you were certain that Tigris and the Grandma'am would hear you, ten floors up. You, once again, sunk your teeth into his shoulder to try to quiet yourself, but it was hardly of any use.

Your legs had given out halfway through your orgasm, and Coriolanus' hand had dug into your waist harder to keep you held up. When you'd finished, he grinned at you, breathless, and scooped you up with minimal effort, only to dump you onto the sofa. His underwear was gone in seconds, and you were still wearing your set, but he was hovering over you, seemingly ready to sink into you and make you feel even better than before.

His lips found your neck again, and he was saying right in your ear, "You did so well, sweetheart. So well."

He was one for praising, and you were one for receiving, so it only made your pupils dilate even further. "Are you ready?"

His eyes were locked onto yours, fingers wrapped around your chin, always so caring, whether he'd just finger-fucked you against a door or not, always making sure you really wanted it. You nodded, "Yes. Ready."

"Okay." He kissed you again, "Let me know if you need to stop, yeah?"

"I will. You know I always do." He'd pushed your underwear aside again, and slipped into you with a slight effort in no time, which really reinforced his, 'sleeping together more often than not', statement, as it had taken at least a few minutes and some words of encouragement the first couple of times.

You gasped and dug your nails into his back, which had Coriolanus' face screwing up slightly. He'd always liked when you dug your nails into him, the pain feeling more pleasurable than anything. "You feel amazing. You always feel amazing." His hands found your breasts, squeezing them through the sheer lace.

"Do you want me to take my underwear off?" You asked through breathy moans. Coryo shook his head quickly and kissed over your bra.

"No." He said, almost authoratively, and thrusted into you harder, faster, as his hand wandered over your body and his eyes raked over you. "Want it on."

You nodded and obeyed, unable to do anything but almost scream his name, with how fast, and rough he was pounding into you. "Coryo, I'm getting close again-"

"You can hold it." He threw his head back in pleasure and a guttural moan left his throat. "I'm nearly there too. Can't hold it, seeing you like this." He gestured to your underwear.

"You like it?" You asked seductively, earning another moan and a nod from Coriolanus. "Got it for you, wore it tonight for you. Knew you'd like it."

"Fuck, who's all this for?" You knew he was close now, could feel him twitching inside of you. You were close too, but you liked the hold you had over him.

"Sorry, I'm not sure what you mean." You teased, still breathless but with a smirk on your face. Coryo shook his head at you, convincingly disapproving, and then his hand was on your throat. Lightly enough that it didn't hurt, but just hard enough that your breathing was slightly laboured and he had more power over you than you had over yourself.

"Who is this for?" Coriolanus asked again, voice harder this time. You weren't sure where this was all coming from, but you certainly enjoyed it. You were cocky at the best of times, and you liked having someone keep you in check.

"You, Coriolanus." He groaned and thrusted into you so hard you were seeing stars. "Fuck, Coryo, it's all for you. I'm always all for you."

"Good girl. That's a good girl, all mine." He gave your throat a light squeeze and then released you, leaving you gasping for air. "Shit. Gonna cum." He dropped his head again, still unrelenting in his pace or roughness. "Are you there?"

"I'm there too." Your moans were strangled, so loud you could hardly even quiet yourself by clamping a hand over your mouth. "God, Coryo!"

You came for the second time, Coryo following right behind you, and you felt his load come out in ropes inside of you, only making your high even higher. Coryo collapsed on top of you, both of you breathing heavily and bodies shaking together. "That was amazing, Coryo." You cooed, hand stroking his white-blonde curls back from his forehead.

"Might've been the best we've had." Coriolanus was so out of breath he could barely form a full sentence. You hummed in response, nodding your head and then letting it fall back against the arm of the sofa.

"So you liked this?" You teased, plucking your bra strap from your skin and then letting it ping back on you. Coryo's face turned a light pink colour and he laughed.

"So what if I did?" He lifted his head, chin resting against your belly, "I liked it, a lot. Think you're beautiful. You know that."

You nodded. "I do."

Coryo shook his head, really laughing now, "There's the arrogance."

"Arrogance? You live in the Capitol, Coryo, there's many more arrogant than me." You hadn't stopped stroking his head, and Coriolanus thought he could've fallen asleep, your voice always calmed him, someone safe, and the added touch and his physical exertion made sleeping sound even more appealing.

"I'm kidding. You are beautiful, you should know that." His voice was soft, quiet, and you were glad that his eyes were closed, because your cheeks felt warm and you were certain you were blushing. "Do you think we should start acting like we know eachother?"

"I'd like that." You admitted. "Should we introduce ourselves? Maybe tell eachother two truths and a lie?"

"You know what I mean." Coryo finally stood from where he'd been laid, between your thighs, and gave you a kiss on the forehead as he bent down to retrieve his discarded clothing. You sat up aswell, fixed out your underwear, and reached for your dress. "I'd like people to know that I know you."

"In this kind of way?" You gestured to both of your nakedness as Coryo pulled his underwear back on. Your cheeky grin was back, the one he loved so much. Your constant teasing made it hard to know whether or not the pair of you were actually in love or just best friends sleeping together, but Coryo didn't mind too much, as long as he had you, he was happy.

"Maybe this can wait until we've passed first base in public. Cant skip straight to fourth, you know?" You'd put your dress back on by now, and Coryo had just finished zipping his trousers and was fussing over his hair. You crossed the room to him, and his hands settled on your waist and he pressed a small, fleeting kiss to the tip of your nose.

"Oh, that would be dastardly." You checked the time on your mothers watch, which you still had encircled around your wrist.

"Pluribus' doesn't close for another two hours, should we go back?"

[cookingmamatwo-dinnerwithfriends]

chocolate frog terrarium || theodore nott x reader

a/n: WARNING: ur a HUFFLEPUFF GIRL and now you have made-up siblings lol the chocolate frog thing was something i thought of a while ago and i think it’s funny. and i played hogwarts legacy so i have to reference it <3

to say that theodore was nervous about the date was an understatement. he was overwrought and maybe even querulous (thank you thesaurus.com). he didn't know what to wear and he was worried that his hair looked stupid. eventually he decided he looked as good as he was going to and left to meet (y/n) in the bell tower courtyard.

when he made it outside he saw her waiting by the fountain. she was conjuring three little yellow canaries, a spell they had recently learned in mcgonagall's class. when she saw him walking towards her she waved her wand and all of the birds disappeared.

"theo, you made it!" she walked towards him, grinning widely.

"you didn't think i'd show?" he pretends to be offended. "i see you've mastered the avis charm?" he watches as a few yellow feathers fall to the ground at her feet.

"truly i was worried you and malfoy were having me on..." she trailed off before quickly pivoting to a brighter topic. "are you ready to go?"

"yeah let's get going," he offers his arm and she takes it, looping hers through his.

they make small talk as they walk across the rickety bridge and all the way to hogsmeade, talking about everything from potions class to what they think harry potter will manage to do before this year is up. they also make a brief pitstop at the puffskein den on the way to the village ("they're so cute, let's just look at them for a second!").

"where do you want to go first?" theo asked as the both of them entered the wizard village.

"honeyduke's," (y/n) answered immediately.

"that was quick," theo teased her, but still led them to the candy store.

as they walk around together theo watches as she examines almost everything in the store.

"what's your favorite thing in here?" she asks him while still perusing the shelves.

he thinks for a minute before answering, "probably...every-flavor beans."

"are you a sociopath or something?" she asked with mock-seriousness. "i can't eat those. ever since i got a dragon dung flavored bean." she shivered at the memory.

he laughed loudly, "i've never got one like that...what's your favorite?"

she picks up a chocolate frog and holds it up to theo, suddenly laughing lightly at something.

"you know i come from a muggle family, right?" she asked, tilting her head at him. he nodded, so she continued. "i bought one of these for my brother one time, and when it jumped out he thought it was a real frog, so he set up a little habitat for it and kept it as a pet."

"how long did it stick around?" theo asked, genuinely curious as he had never left a chocolate frog open and uneaten for longer than five minutes.

"a day, then it melted under the heat lamp," she chuckled, putting the chocolate frog back. "i wish you could have seen his face when he found his brand new pet frog melted in his tank."

"i've always wondered how muggles would react to all of these different candies," theo said, imagining the scene of a boy finding his new pet as a melted chocolate blob.

"don't get me started on my sister," she rolled her eyes before continuing, "she tries to talk to the cards. she has a crush on her gilderoy lockhart card."

"so you've exposed your muggle family to the wizarding world as well?" he asked.

"yes," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "i think it would be rather selfish to keep all of this to myself."

"did your parents freak out when they found out?"

"oh yes, my mom nearly lost it when i made a worm grow to, like, double its size."

"i would too, that sounds vile," he scrunched his nose up at the thought of a fat fucking earthworm.

(y/n) grabs two chocolate frogs and a box of fizzing whizbees before going to the counter to pay. before she could even get her coin purse open, theo had already given the cashier enough money to cover it.

“you didn’t have to do that,” she frowned.

“i wanted to impress you,” he shrugged.

she rolled her eyes before offering him one of the frogs. they both opened them, caught them, and began eating them.

“what card did you get?” she asked, peering over his shoulder to see.

“fig,” he said unenthusiastically. “i have like eight of him already. who did you get?”

“ooh! i got mcgonagall! i don’t have her yet!” she said excitedly, pocketing the card. “i don’t have fig though….”

she side-eyed him in hopes that he would hand over the card. which he did. he didn’t need a ninth eleazar fig.

they started their walk back to the castle shortly after this. shyly brushing hands until theo made the move to fully hold her hand. he walked her down to the hufflepuff common room where he found himself sad to part ways.

“i had a really nice time today theo…” (y/n) said shyly, looking down at her feet. “we should do this again sometime.”

“yeah definitely! i had a great time too,” he smiled down at her softly.

he was wracking his brain, trying to think of something NORMAL to say, when she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

“goodnight theo,” she smiled softly and went into her common room.

he smiled as he turned around to walk to the dungeons. when he made it to his dorm, malfoy and mattheo (yep he’s here IM SORRY) were waiting for him.

“how’d it go mate?” mattheo asked, smirking at theo.

“it was really great,” theo answered earnestly, too giddy to say something cool and nonchalant.

“that’s just adorable,” malfoy cooed at him.

“shut up…” theo rubbed the back of neck, before plotting with the boys on how to ask (y/n) out again.

[grandlinedreams]

Hello, I've been reading Ur fics lately (esp with law) and I love them

I was wondering if you could make angst? Like... Let's say there's this big battle, like the one in wano, where reader and law gets separated, but after the battle Law finds reader unconscious and being treated by chopper who then explains they had severe wounds and might need blood transfusion.

It also just happens that he was gonna confess to them after all of the chaos so that they'd be safe in his arms. And that might not even happen since now they have each foot on both worlds.

I'd imagine Law going along with talking to them even if they're unconscious just to keep them here in the living. (If they're alone ofc)

I hope that's alright

OUGH some angst my beloved,,,i can absolutely do that, I hope I do this justice for you!!

[Heads up!: angst, serious injuries, some brief medical talk, hurt/very little comfort, keeping in line w Law literally calling none of the Strawhats by their names, open-ended]

Truth be told, Law doesn't keep much of an eye on you during battles. It's hard enough keeping an eye on what the enemy is doing ㅡ especially if the Strawhats are involved. They ㅡ especially their captain ㅡ have a knack for blowing careful plans out of the water and he's forced to play damage control until it's over.

You're also fully capable of looking after yourself, and he trusts you and your skillset. So when he doesn't immediately find you once things have started settling down, he doesn't think much of it.

When five minutes turns to ten, then to fifteen, then half an hour, however, alarm bells start going off in his head. You've never taken this long to check in with him. Has something happened? Have you beenㅡ

No, he won't let himself think of that option. Not now, not ever. So he keeps as optimistic as reality will allow him ㅡ until he hears his name being called.

"Oi, Law!"

It's Sanji. "What is it, Blackleg?"

The blond's expression is his first warning that whatever it is, it isn't pleasant. "Chopper told me to come get you."

That's his second warning. Eyes narrowing and trying to rifle through potential scenarios from best case to worst, he follows Sanji silently until they reach where Chopper is ㅡ and Law stares at who the little reindeer is desperately trying to patch up.

It's you.

Part of him whispers harshly that this is par for the course, that he's worn out his luck in terms of keeping you safe ㅡ another notes that he's never seen you look more fragile.

"What happened." It's a demand as he takes in the bandages all over you, trying not to think about how most of them are already soaked with blood. Your blood.

He barely hears the explanation above the rising ringing in his ears, but he gathers enough to find it in himself to mentally curse your perchance for heroics. He's told you time and time again that your self-sacrificing attitude will get you into trouble, and now it has. (As if he isn't guilty of it too from time to time, but that's neither here nor there.)

"They need a transfusion," he says, kneels to gather you into his arms, trying not to focus on how limp you are. "I'll take it from here."

If Chopper protests, he doesn't stick around long enough to hear it. From the second he sets foot back on the Polar Tang, it's a blur.

Bandages are stripped from you and replaced, an IV of fluid in one arm, blood in the other. One of the defaults to joining the crew is letting him know blood type so he has it on hand, and he's never been more grateful to have it and less so that he needs to use it.

For the next few hours, Law hardly blinks, barely lets himself breathe ㅡ afraid that somewhere between, you'll slip from him. He can feel the cold circle of death around you, measuring, evaluating. Deciding if you go, or if you stay.

He wants you to stay. If there were ever a way to guarantee that you do, he'd do it now ㅡ but there isn't. So he sits, counts your breath (in, out. Up, down.), and waits.

And he talks.

He tells you that you're a pain, that you need to stop thinking so much of others before yourself, that a quality like that is only admirable until it means a grave instead of life. That you shouldn't be so cavalier with your time, that there are people who care about you, and what are they supposed to do if you die?

He means himself in that too. He's gotten accustomed to your presence, the way you've slotted your way into his routines and habits like you belong, and perhaps, were he a romantic, he'd say you always have. But he hardly has time for that, barely lets himself entertain it ㅡ too soft, too ideal, too good to be true. Always too much of something.

But he wants it, wants you ㅡ wonders if he'll even get the slimmest chance to tell you now. Law could tell you now, but he doesn't. He's afraid if he does, it'll tip the scales further from his favor and he'll undoubtedly lose you.

He can't do that.

It isn't fair ㅡ but when has the world ever felt fit to treat him in a way that could ever be seen as kind enough to be called fair?

[juyeonszn]

WHAT IS LOVE?

PAIRING ₊˚⊹ lee juyeon x f!reader

GENRES ₊˚⊹ fluff﹒crack﹒angst﹒slice of life

WARNINGS ₊˚⊹ mature language bc even on a different blog i won’t ever change, uni!au, reader is a matchmaker, juyeon plays baseball, lots of kys and kms jokes, sunwoo is an incel, a bunch of lesbian jokes, um one sided pining for a while, like i am absolutely ruthless to reader for a Hot Minute i am so sorry, but it’s okay!!! bc then i’m also ruthless to juyeon, the unrequited love in this series goes crazy, it wouldn’t be a fawn smau without a second lead — so there is a small second lead moment, most of the written parts are full of sheer Angst and i’m not sorry about it, there’s like idol shipping in here ? but it’s for the sake of the plot i swear i don’t condone idol shipping 😭 it’s literally in my carrd, the bullying in this smau goes even crazier, ummm for some reason there are a lot of barbie references towards the end

FEATURING ₊˚⊹ the rest of tbz, soyeon + yuqi from (g)-idle, seonghwa from ateez, lee know from skz, sakura from le sserafim, dahyun + tzuyu from twice, jaehyun from nct and mingyu from seventeen

SUMMARY ₊˚⊹ all is well in the business of matchmaking. except it’s actually not, because lee juyeon, the school’s star baseball player, has just come to you for help in obtaining the girl of his dreams. oh yeah! and he happens to be the guy you’ve had a crush on since your first year of university.

STATUS ₊˚⊹ complete!

BEGINNING ₊˚⊹ august 1st, 2023

ENDING ₊˚⊹ october 19th, 2023

MORE ₊˚⊹ HIIIII hello!!! my first smau on another blog this is crazy ?!!2!!22!!2 fun fact; in case the plot seems familiar, it was an old wip for yeonjunszn that i had for jake from enhypen and decided to scrap for reasons that i do not remember LOL but then it came back to me and i decided to redo it for juyo bc it was so juyo-coded and now we’re here 🤗 send an ask to join the taglist (bc note and dm notifs get swallowed up with the ones from my other blog)!!

PROFILES ₊˚⊹ realize real eyes real lies | ball hitters + the token lesbian | ouran high school host club (+ tzuyu)

ONE ₊˚⊹ i’m the ceo president and chair mama

TWO ₊˚⊹ the hwang yeji incident

THREE ₊˚⊹ i hide and u seek therapy!

FOUR ₊˚⊹ /s or /j

FIVE ₊˚⊹ setting virgins up with other virgins

SIX ₊˚⊹ POSER FAKE FAN

SEVEN ₊˚⊹ #mancrushfriday #mrstealyogirl

EIGHT ₊˚⊹ I HATE WHEN WOMEN ARE RIGHT

NINE ₊˚⊹ the start of a W matchmaking season

TEN ₊˚⊹ ur on THIN ICE JAMAL

ELEVEN ₊˚⊹ Just Like A Doughnut (2.04k)

TWELVE ₊˚⊹ need a comically large piano to fall on top of me

THIRTEEN ₊˚⊹ hit tweet follow me 🙌🙏

FOURTEEN ₊˚⊹ what the bell are u talking about

FIFTEEN ₊˚⊹ THAT WAS A CRY FOR HELP

SIXTEEN ₊˚⊹ chest heavy eyes misty

SEVENTEEN ₊˚⊹ they laugh at me cause i’m emo

EIGHTEEN ₊˚⊹ sangyeon boyfriend material era

NINETEEN ₊˚⊹ Blocked and Reported for threatening language

TWENTY ₊˚⊹ A Hole In The Shape Of You (2.17k)

TWENTY ONE ₊˚⊹ men against song yuqi

TWENTY TWO ₊˚⊹ i thought we were friends.

TWENTY THREE ₊˚⊹ u think i’m pretty??? 🥰

TWENTY FOUR ₊˚⊹ for research purposes

TWENTY FIVE ₊˚⊹ The Middle Of My Heart (1.60k)

TWENTY SIX ₊˚⊹ AND THE CROWD GOES WILD

TWENTY SEVEN ₊˚⊹ to me it was

TWENTY EIGHT ₊˚⊹ clown to clown communication

TWENTY NINE ₊˚⊹ A Space Just For You (2.05k)

THIRTY ₊˚⊹ THE JUYEON THERAPY FUND

THIRTY ONE ₊˚⊹ is this pic AI generated

THIRTY TWO ₊˚⊹ i’m gay…

THIRTY THREE ₊˚⊹ 11:11 make a wish

THIRTY FOUR ₊˚⊹ Our Love Loop (2.62k)

THIRTY FIVE ₊˚⊹ graduated from bitchless university

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[specialagentlokitty]

Merlin (kingsman) x reader - you’re safe here

if you do still write for kingsman (i saw it on ur list but i havent seen it on your blog in a very long time) could you do a merlin x reader where reader has been hiding an @bvsive relationship from everyone, but one day shows up to his door with cvts and bruises everywhere??💟💟 - Anon💜

T/W: mentions of abusive relationship

Part of being a kingsman was to keep your personal and work life very separate from one another.

And when it came down to that, you were amazing at it, the two lives never intertwined with each other in any way, shape or form.

And perhaps that is what your downfall was as well.

What was supposed to be a loving relationship had turned into a hell on earth for you, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

You were a master at hiding everything, so nobody you worked with suspected a thing, and your partner hated you wouldn’t tell them anything about your work life.

They accused you of everything.

Cheating.

Stealing.

Lying.

Manipulation.

Whatever you could be accused off you were, even though it was the other way around.

And there was nothing you could do about it.

You wanted to fight back, but you were scared, and when it came down to it you couldn’t bring your hand to hit them like you could anybody else.

You were stuck in a world of fear and it was eating away at you slowly.

But it had never been so bad before, never had you feared for your life so much, been on the verge of collapsing in your own legs as you climbed out of your car.

You didn’t have anywhere else to go.

You didn’t know where to find anybody else.

And you were scared that you would be followed if you went to the hospital, and terrified what would happen if you went to the police.

Slowly closing your car door you walked over to the house and rang the bell, slumping yourself against the railing, wheezing for breath.

“Who is it?”

You looked up at the intercom, letting out a pained breath.

“P..please…” you whispered.

You weren’t even sure if he would’ve been able to hear it, but you couldn’t form anymore words.

You heard running down, and the door was thrown open.

Merlin immediately crouched next to you, holding a gun out as he looked around.

When he was sure it was clear he put it away and wrapped your arm around his shoulder.

“This is going to hurt.”

With that, he lifted you up and you held back a pained scream.

Merlin helped you inside and set you down in the sofa, locking the door as he began to rush round gathering everything he could find.

Coming back over, he sat down on chair in front of you, settling some bags of ice down.

He went to reach out and you flinched.

“I would never hurt you, you’re alright.” He said softly.

He slowly reached out again, moving your arms from your ribs.

“Can I?”

You shook your head.

“Alright, I just need to make sure they’re not broken.”

He placed his hands on your ribs, gently feeling and you winced.

“Bruised but that’s all.”

It was calming to hear him telling you what he was doing so you knew everything that was happening. There was no nasty surprises.

Your breathing was pained, and every time he reached out you would flinch.

It broke his heart to see you like this.

He knew you as one of the strongest agents, never had you been injured on a mission.

Now here you were sat on his sofa, bruises forming, covering in cuts, blood stained your clothing. You were in so much pain.

And there was nothing he could do to help you aside from tending to your injures, cleaning them, bandaging them, putting ice on them.

When he was done, he took a small breath.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

You weakly shook your head.

“Alright, I’ll be back in one moment.”

Merlin left, and he came back not long after.

“Come on, let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”

He helped you up, slowly walking up the stairs with you and took you to his room, letting you sit on the bed.

He covered you up, and sighed as he looked at you.

“Get some rest, we can talk in the morning when you’re ready.”

He went to leave and you stopped him.

“Do you want me to stay?”

You nodded.

He took the chair from his desk and brought it over, sitting next to the bed holding your hand while you laid down.

At first you didn’t sleep, but pain and exhaustion took over and you let sleep take over.

And Merlin sat there watching over you, he had already his laptop, and he was going through security footage from your building to figure out what went on.

He was going to figure this out.

Then whoever had dared to hurt you like this was going to pay dearly for what they had done to you.

But Merlin could only hope you could heal from this, and that you would let him protect you

[salitok]

Save a horse, ride a cowgirl!

pairings: Cowgirl, southern!Ellie Williams x fem!southern!reader

Authors note: since y’all wanted smut, here you go !!!!!

warnings: Smut, pet names ( so many), horny, public sex, fingering (R receiving), scissoring. mdni.

summary: your cowboy-souther gf takes you on a picnic date and things heat up

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

You and your gf, Ellie, haven’t had a date in months; the both of you are very busy at work and haven’t had time to see each other properly.

You both agreed oh having a date. You couldn’t be more exited, you missed your gf badly, sometimes you wish the both of you lived together so you could see her every day and night, but the both of you were busy at work. Ellie worked at a farm from a man called Mario who was a old friend of joel. Mario’s business is to sell horses all over the south, so she has to take care of them; feed them, ride them and clean them. You worked at the local news presenting the wether, and surprisingly people loved you a lot, you were known in town as the wether girl, this made Ellie really prod to date you.

You got exited from your date night, you loved picnics and having one with Ellie made you more than happy. When you got home from work, at 3:00 pm, you got into the shower in seconds. You showered fast, but really good, you smelled grate,like vanilla. You putted on a short, flow’y dress, ur usual cowboy boots and a matching hat; you looked gorgeous, the southern “it girl”. You started preparing a cute picnic basket, filled with fruits, sandwiches and treats; Ellie is going to bring the lemonade and the tablecloth.

Ellie arrived at your house in her dirty green truck, filled with work supplies in the back. You smiled when you saw her, hoping in the passenger sit.

“Hi hon” you said with a big cute smile

“Hey sugar, you look beautiful” she kissed your cheek.

You could tell Ellie tried her best to look good, she’s always in work clothes. Ellie wore a tight-fitting shirt, bell-bottom jeans, and boots. She put her hand on your thigh while driving, her soft finger sliding up and down almost under your dress. This made you nervous, it felt… good.

the both of you got going, you were going to a park, to look at the sun hide.

When the both of you arrived Ellie carried the thing to set the picnic up. the wind blowing your skirt away, making Ellie turn around to have a view under your loose skirt.

then the picnic was all set up

the both of you ate, drank, and cuddled as the hours passed. When the sunset you were lying on Ellie's chest, admiring her, the orange color of the sun made her face look beautiful. you stared at her wholly gone, looking at her freckles.

"what are you looking at Darling," she said in a soft and kinda sexy voice. you didn't know if she meant something or if you felt horny.

you hopped on top of her and kissed her chapped lips. Ellie kisses you back sitting back up and her hands resting on your waist, squeezing them softly; you let out a low moan

"you're making me hot sugar," she said before chasing her lips to yours again, she hand moving to your ass. "I missed you, need you Ellie," you said between kisses as she kissed your neck. Ellie wanted to pleasure you too, " am going to make you feel good, don't worry baby " with a smirk on her face. she lifted your dress a little so her hand touched your bare ass and squeezed it making you moan on her ear.

Ellie flipped you over, she was on top of you, between your soft legs. Ellie took your small pink panties off admiring your already wet pussy while doing it. "mmm so wet".

Ellie's fingers pressed softy on your clit, making you arch your back and moan. She played with your clit, circling it and moving it up and down, she kissed you and inserted one finger, you moaned softly under her, she was gentle, maybe too gentle. She could see your desperation she moved it in and out of you and then inserted another. your tight walls hugging her fingers.

the motions of her fingers felt perfect, going faster each minute, and curling then inside you, "ahhh ellie". she knew you were close, therefor she placed her thumb on your clit, moving it in fat circular motions. As your moans increase and your body moved under her you came, moaning her name over and over again.

after a second you sit back up, your eyes begging, you needed to really feel her. you undid ellies big belt and then her pants, having a clear view of her grey Calvin Klein boxers.

"oh you really are needy, let me make it up to you sugar"

the both of you got into the back seat of her truck. Ellie took your dress totally off, and then she took her pants off.

"tell me what you want princess" a big smirk on her face, your submissive eyes trying to tell her. "talk"

"I.... want to feel your pussy against mine," you said, it sounded like a beg, a please.

Ellie placed herself between your legs, both of your heats touching. She groan, and both cunts wet graining against each other.

ellie's hand has total control, she moved slowly at first, but as the heat increases she gets more needy and moves faster.

"fuck... I love this precious little pussy" She grinds harder and harder, your head arching, and you grabbed one of your gfs legs. Ellie's head was thrown back, breathing heavily.

"mmm fuck hon" you moan trying to tell her you where close

"I know love, am close too" you both moaned louder and louder

"cum with me " Ellie groaned for a last time as the two of you came undone.

after that, you both cuddle up and kissed, it felt like a dream. when suddenly Ellie lifts your chin up and asks you a big question that leaves your mouth open

"move in with me sugar".

[sgiandubh]

Out of the OL bubble

Sidenote: this post owes everything to the incredible sleuthing skills of an already longtime trusted friend, who wishes to remain discreet. All credit goes entirely to her - this is such an idiotic topic, yet the Ur Troll insists.

I answered one of you in the comment threads yesterday, that once you get the hell out of the OL bubble, things begin to make sense. Why? Well, because of distance and context, I suppose. And also because this always was the dirty little secret of our Dedicated Manipulative Trolls: to make you believe in a terribly poor narrative, fit for a linear world. A world without compromise, drama, secrets and lies. Collective lack of time, perspective and/or Internet research skills did the rest and gave birth to this monster: the OL Fandom.

We are now told and are supposed to believe that because Scottish Xena apparently chose on purpose (with this and only this, I could agree, but for opposite reasons) to show us she trains in a Cumbernauld gym, that means... well, you know the rest and it involves The Magic Golden Dirk. That troll was never exactly subtle, was she, bless her heart?

That mother and entrepreneur has a life of her own and an entourage of her own and business collaborations of her own and her own agenda. Some of it is shown on her Instagram account, most of it can be speculated. Connecting dots just for the sake of it is neither productive, nor remotely interesting.

Let's see, for example, how she reacts to a very insistent fellow German athlete, whom she is going to meet at the Hyrox Cologne event (13-14th of April, during the Landcon week-end):

😬😱

What is Flamingos Club? Nope, not an ikebana society, no:

Tee-hee.

They were there before, in good company, last year, when they actually first met (rings a bell?):

(April 2023, ok? I am still waiting for my own DeLorean)

Who is this guy?

Fellow athlete, HYROX Ambassador (something I bet the farm she wants to achieve) and a contestant in this year's German reality show First Dates Hotel, on VOX (https://www.vox.de/cms/sendungen/first-dates-hotel.html):

The concept is simple: a renowned German chef, Roland Trettl (no idea!) now takes his blind date cooking show to the next level, with singles from all over the country parked into a Spanish dream holiday resort (Mallorca), shake, stir and see whatever happens. The classical Endemol recipe, now produced by Twenty Twenty. It also has an UK version, running on Channel 4 (coincidence? I doubt that very much, thank you!).

On set, Max's 'love interest' is a certain Linda. He recently wrote her ' a sweet love letter', taking the good advice of his namesake cast friend Max-the-Bartender:

(I swear to God, I feel like I am prostituting my 🧠, right now).

There is obviously nothing to see, here (or is it, such as two wannabes desperately wanting limelight?). She leads the typical no strings attached life of a single mom and he is still looking for a real job:

Since VOX does not give his full name, neither will I. It took five minutes to find him, with a bit of luck.

Why on Earth would one connect that woman to S, rather than to this nice, ambitious Bavarian?

I know why. It's almost too damn easy.

Two words: Channel 4. Truman Show. Ginger and Fred (oops, these are Our Couple).

Is it anything we haven't seen before?

Nope. We've seen way worse. But gone are the Days of Flukenzie Floozy.

[Edited] - there is no need to further expose our people.

[mystinkylefttoe26]

Tutor Session-König

cw: kinda sub!könig, virgin!könig, expierienced!reader, handjob, blowjob, König sees boobs for the first time 🥹

Summary: after a bad test result König offers to tutor you let’s just say it goes differently then expected… 

“Fuckkk” you groan looking at your German exam “another D my parents are going to fucking kill me “

While your friends are busy trying to comfort you. You feel a little tap on ur shoulder, you quickly turn around only to be met with the schools nerd nervous expression 

“What do you want König” you ask annoyed, clearly not in the mood for some smart comment 

“I can uhm…tutor.. you” he says nervously, looking like it cost him his whole fucking courage to say that. 

Man this dude needs some pussy you think.

“I uhm my native language is German so…” König continues on interrupting your train of thought. 

You think about it for a second before responding “uhm yeah sure that’d be very nice” you smile

König smiles back nervously. “You can come to my house after school today, if that’s ok with you” König says quickly almost tripping over his words. 

“Uhm yeah sure” you respond kind of unsure if you want to go to the house of a guy who look like he came in his pants when you smiled at him 

Well now it’s 5hours later and you’re standing in-front of Königs house. 

It’s a normal house nothing special about. You quickly press the bell, waiting for König to open the door.

The door opens pretty much immediately…like Königs was anxiously waiting for your arrival…

“Hallo, come in” König greets you.

“Come on let’s go upstairs into my room”

You walk up the stairs with him and god the room was exactly the way you imagined it…if not worse..

On the walls were multiple anime posters plastered, Huge gaming set up, a wall with multiple replicas of military weapons and the worst part is you see a flesh light not very well hidden under the bed.

“Here uhm take a seat” König tells you pointing to his desk.

You silently settle down looking at the multiple monster cans plastered on it.

You’ve already studied for about an hour now and you must give König this he is very good at German and teaching it.

The only thing bothering you is the unbearable heat in the room. 

“König is it ok if I take off my hoodie ?” You ask “uh yeah sure go ahead” 

You quickly pull off your hoodie..the only problem is you forgot what you were wearing underneath..a white top..without a bra…

Suddenly König lets out a loud shocked cough “everything ok?” You ask, oblivious to where he’s looking. 

“Y-yes” König says in a shaky voice. ‘Hmm weird’ you think.

You two continue studying, but you could tell König wasn’t as focused as before. 

“König you sure you ok” you ask turning to him. “Y-yeah d-don’t worry bout it” König replies quickly but seemingly still distracted. 

Your eyes subconsciously drift down towards Königs crotch, and there you’re greeted with the sight of a fuckin huge cock straining against the fabric of his sweats. 

“Oh..I know why you’re so distracted” you giggle.

Königs follows your eyes and realizes you’re looking at his very obvious boner, immediately trying to cover it with his hands. 

“No wait ! Don’t cover it, I…I can help you…” you say quickly.

Königs Jaws almost falls out at your words. “H-help..me ?” 

“Yeah” you nod eagerly, already excited of to thought of getting to suck his cock “you know you helped me with my problem I can help you with your ‘problem’”.

“O-ok” König responds shyly.

You immediately walk over to him spread his legs and settle between them on ur knees. 

“Never done anythin’ before” König mumbles out embarrassed.

“Mhmm that’s ok” you say while already palming at his erection “I don’t mind”

“O-ok” 

You make quick work of freeing his member from its confines.

And wow it was even bigger than imagined…

“Woah you have such a nice dick” you coo softly.

“Uhm t-thanks” König replies, clearly not used to getting compliments. 

Your start stroking his length, while König his already twitching in your hands and whining softly.

“C-can you uhm…take off your shirt ?” König asks trough whines and whimpers.

You pretty much rip off ur shirt. Before beginning to eagerly suckle and lick up the beads of pre-cum spilling from the tip.

You start fully taking his length into your mouth while cupping his balls.

“God, you’re really good at this” König moans out.

You start bopping your head up and down wanting him to let out more of those delicious moans.

“I-I’m so close-“ König groans while having his hands planted at the back of your head 

You chuckle internally. It’s been what..a minute and he’s already close.

With your free hand you reach up to your head and press down on Königs hand signaling him to decide your pace.

You continue bopping up and down while swirling your tongue around him.

“I-I’m ughh cuming..” König lets out an high pitched almost female moan.

Before you feel his tip spurting out his hot and almost concerning large load. 

You swallow everything before sticking your tongue out to show König.

“That’s was uhm wow…”

you giggle softly in return.

“Are we like together now ?” 

Königs already planning the wedding <3

Banners from @fairytopea and @benkeibear

[sopiao]

there’s this ghost bot i found where ur a waitress on the diner night shift and ghost is a regular that always comes to see you 🤭

ANYWAYS. waitress!reader with regular!ghost

You were sitting on the bar of the diner, almost finished wiping down the counters clean. You’ve mopped, dried every glass, prepped every silverware, cleaned the windows, and refilled up all the condiments to kill time.

Checking the clock it was only 1:32. Hours away till the end of your shift. The last few hours were spent just scrolling on your phone from how empty the diner is, a group of stoned teens visited to eat for a little, but that’s about it.

He should be here by now. You sighed, sitting back down at the counter and pulling your phone out to try and pass time. The warm and cozy lights and the heat emitting from the heater made you feel even sleepier and more relaxed. The jingle of entrance door’s bell made you immediately perk up and excited, hoping the man you wanted to see would walk through.

“Your usual?” You ask, sitting up and resting your hands on the counter. He sits down at the bar in front of you, the same seat he always takes. He lets out a small chuckle and nods.

“Was hoping to see you today” You smile, a fresh pot was already made and ready for him, pouring the black coffee in a white porcelain mug. Simon seems surprised by flattered, watching your form as you reach over the counter to put back the coffee pot.

“Lil ol’ me?” He chuckles, pointing at himself, his elbows resting on the wooden counter, the blue paint was chipping off the edge. Simon watched as you added cream and sugar, just how he likes it.

“Thanks, lovely” He nods when you set the cup down in front of him, careful not to spill any. His scarred hands hug the sides of the mug, warming his hands from the cold weather outside.

“You added something different?” He asked, licking his lips after taking a long warm sip.

“Uh, yeah. I wanted to experiment a little bit, vanilla creamer and a little cinnamon” You stood a little straighter, anxious that he didn’t like it. He could tell you were worried and laughed it off.

“No, no. I like it. It taste sweeter” Like you. He wanted to add that last part but felt that it was too fast, not wanting to scare you off or creep you away. You smiled warmly, one he always loves, leaning back down to rest your forearms on the counter.

“Mm. Glad you like it” You smiled, beaming at him excitedly, which always managed to make his heart melt. He wasn’t big on anything sweet in his coffee. Suddenly he started to tolerate it, started to like it, like you.

—

“What are ya’ doing here so late?” You ask, suddenly changing the subject, he looked up from his food, still chewing he looks up to search for a reason in his head.

“Why are you asking now?” He answered your question with one of his own, too embarrassed with the real reason why he really comes late.

“Dunno. It’s kinda odd how you always come late. Not that I’m complaining” You shrug, just out of pure curiosity. You didn’t wanna come across that you were bothered by him.

“You’re nice company” Simon unconsciously admits, his eyes staggering up to you to see your reaction. All you do is smile and laugh, finding his response so charming.

—

“You notice anything?” You ask, resting against the counter across his usual spot. His eyes flickered up at you, mid-sip, and inspected every part of you for something new.

“You’re hair. You changed it?” He asked, admiring how well it fitted you, how it complimented your skin tone, made your eyes seem so much kinder when you smiled. You lightly clapped, happy that he noticed.

“Yeah. You like it?” Smiling up at him, really hoping that he liked it, it was something new but not too new. Without thinking, Simon reaches his hand up to your shoulder, taking a lock of your hair and twirling it between his fingers.

“Fits ya’” Is all he said before retracting his hand and taking another sip from his mug. Realizing what he did and playing it off as if it was completely normal. He subtly took another glance at you, thought you looked real cute with how flushed your cheeks were and how your mouth was slightly agape at his actions.

[jiminrings]

please could you write about yoongi meeting the baby for the first time :)

478: drabble

alternatively, yoongi drops by your house out of the blue :)

[ 478 masterlist ]

Hwayoung’s first three days in the house has kept things askew.

For starters, you and Jungkook have never been happier than now but at the same note, the both of you have never been more sleep-deprived in your lives.

You’re getting the hang of breastfeeding and Jungkook’s slowly improving his efficiency in diaper-changing, the only moments wherein Hwayoung wasn’t either crying or gurgling being spent on trying to keep things maintained in general.

Your husband used to have this solid routine of cleaning everything around the house everyday but now, he can’t do so much as vacuuming in the fear of missing out and undoing all your work on soothing Hwayoung. He did read this article how it’d be beneficial to get your babies used to loud sounds such as vacuuming, but being a first-time dad, he already feels like bursting to tears when he sees his daughter’s face scrunching up from the sound.

Jungkook still has the routine down of cooking your meals but he only has much time to prepare them for you and not for himself, going about his day feeding off from granola bars and ramen that he won’t even let you have because there’s too much salt.

He’s never felt more fulfilled in his life but he’s also never been this paranoid, sharing the same sentiments with you when most of the time, you even refuse to sleep just to monitor the rise and fall of Hwayoung’s chest. Jungkook’s been stopping his breathing more frequently just to look at his daughter’s, the anxiety of being a new parent melting away when her eyes focus on him.

“I’m gonna pass out. Hold down the fort for us, please,” you yawn as you trudge to Jungkook, giving him a warm kiss before pressing one on Hwayoung who’s in his arms by the baby pink couch. “My alarm’s set up but call me immediately when she’s starting to fuss, the extra diapers are in the cart, you can-…”

“You can relax, baby,” Jungkook interrupts you, blinking up at you with doe eyes. His glasses almost get in the way when he practically inhales your cheek with the way he kisses you, but he chuckles anyway when you let out a little giggle. 

He can finally let out of a sigh of relief when you get into bed because you’ve finally succumbed after shrugging off numerous attempts, finally accepting the fact that you need to rest if you want to attend to Hwayoung in the most present yet healthiest way that you could.

It’s not long that Jungkook stews in silent adoration until his phone buzzes in his pocket, maneuvering Hwayoung in his hold. He squints at his screen because it’s not another congratulatory text nor you texting him yet another one of your reminders — it’s Yoongi.

| i’m outside ur door go open it

| didn’t ring the bell in case hwayoung’s asleep :D

Jungkook blinks once, twice before finally pocketing his phone, at a loss for words for the spontaneity of Yoongi dropping by unannounced. He obliges anyway and takes extra care going down the stairs, his daughter sleeping through it like a rock.

The moment Jungkook opens the door, Yoongi immediately brightens up — in a sweater that reads world’s best uncle. 

“Yoongi, dude, I love you but what are you doing here?” Jungkook blinks, knowing that the guy is very much aware of your no-visitor rule for the meantime but he’s clearly here in the flesh, dressed for the occasion nonetheless.

“Hello to you too, Jungkook,” Yoongi snickers, immediately softening once he sets his gaze on the baby in his arms. “Hi, pretty girl.”

Jungkook’s still stunned but he quickly reels in his surprise when Yoongi gently scoots him over, noticing that he’s carrying a whole duffel bag with him.

“Move over,” Yoongi sing-songs, looking around to assess the state of your house. It’s cluttered and he doesn’t exactly blame the two of you, yet he still takes the challenge head-on. “I’m here to cook and clean.”

“What?” Jungkook’s eyes bulge, the gasp in his throat enough to make Hwayoung bounce slightly on his chest.

“I’m here to be of service. I’ll do your chores, I’ll cook, I’ll meal-prep. I’m going home tonight anyway, but still, you get my point. I’ll come back everyday for the next two weeks, or y’know, until things start to fall into routine with Hwayoung,” Yoongi shrugs effortlessly, setting down his bag that’s full of ingredients he’d researched that’s good for breastfeeding moms and perhaps also anxious dads. “This is a surprise, by the way, even Y/N doesn’t know. Consider this as a gift because what the hell are first-time parents supposed to do with balloons anyway?”

Jungkook has his lips parted open, eyes unblinking. He watches Yoongi survey the place from where he stands and when the latter notices that he’s met with utter silence, he turns to Jungkook who looks like a fish out of water.

“Not unless… you also want balloons?” Yoongi tries, eyebrows furrowed at the way your husband is frozen like a statue. “I can get that arranged, if you’d like…? I also bought Hwayoung some diapers and they’re in my trunk so-…”

“Yoongi.”

Jungkook interrupts Yoongi with a firm embrace even with just one arm able to go around his body, an awed sigh leaving him because truly, the whole thing is such a quiet yet grand gesture that’s awfully Yoongi from the way it’s been carefully thought of. It means a whole lot, so much so that your husband can tackle him to the ground if not for Hwayoung in his arms.

He wordlessly offers Hwayoung to Yoongi and the guy just blinks before the situation registers in his head, cradling your daughter close with utmost care as he instinctively rocks her.

“Y/N and I already talked about it but she’s sleeping right now so,” Jungkook clears his throat, eyes fond with silent awe at the way Yoongi coos at his daughter. “Do you wanna be Hwayoung’s godfather?”

It’s Yoongi’s turn to be speechless, eyes wide and mouth parted. He’s even more frozen than Jungkook awhile ago, startling the latter. Your husband is just about to assure him that he could say no if he wanted to but Yoongi interrupts him this time, an honored smile on his face.

“Of course I do,” Yoongi coos, humming to Hwayoung. “I’d protect her like my own.”

[buckys-little-belle]

little rae here 💌 if it okay can i talk to u & vent a lil?

feelin small, got a bit triggered by parents arguing. loud noises wit no sleep & my brain is feeling staticy nd fuzzy, rlly hard to think rn if that makes sense? wish i had stevie & eds wit me :( took a shower tho & now im gon cuddle wit my stuffed duck mr waddles & read some of ur stuff. thank u for makin me feel safe, love u belle i sendin hugs

Duckie

Steddie x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns Used)

Warnings -

Notes - Sometimes my brain feels all fuzzy so I definitely understand how you feel. Though I can’t actually send Steve and Eddie your way, in a literal sense, I can write them, so this is for you bub <3

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW.

- - - - - -

“Duckie?” Steve questioned, holding up two boxes, one filled with regular waffles, the other blueberry. Y/n’s head snapped towards him, their mind far away as he spoke. “Which ones do you want?” Steve asked, the question now being asked for the third time, though Y/n seemed to be listening at least a bit this time.

“I dunno.” They mumbled, a sigh punctuating their words. “I can’ fink.” They confessed, their eyes filled ever so slightly with tears, guilt building in their chest at their inability to give an answer.

“That’s okay Duckie.” Steve smiled knowingly, he knew Y/n sometimes got ‘far out’, as Eddie would say, their thoughts slower and mind distant. Instead of asking the question again he placed one of each waffle into the toaster.

- - - - - -

Steve hand’t told Eddie about Y/n’s mindset, just sending them to him after breakfast to wake him up and get dressed. “What do you want to wear?” Eddie asked Y/n, rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he strode over to the dresser, opening the drawer filled with Y/n’s clothes. “A big shirt? Sleeves? No sleeves?” He began rattling off the options.

“I don’ know Ed’s.” Y/n frowned, sitting on the end of the bed, their hands in their lap as their head hung low, the carpet the centre of their attention.

“Well what colour do you want?” He asked instead, thinking that might be an easier question to ponder.

Instead of yell out their favourite colour like usual Y/n let out a sob. “I don’ wanna pick Ed’s.” The cried, tears falling from their cheeks, dripping onto the floor.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, entering the room, a coffee in hand as he assessed the situation.

“‘m head feels fuzzy, I don’ know what shirt I wanna wear Stevie, I don’ know what waffles I wanna have, I jus’ don’ know!” They cried.

“Hey, hey.” Eddie cooed, kneeling down in front of Y/n, his head blocking their view of the boring carpet, Steve sitting down beside Y/n, his hand soothingly on their back, his mug long disregarded. “That’s okay, you don’t have to decide anything okay.” Eddie smiled, rubbing up and down their arm.

“We don‘ t have any plans today Duckie, we can stay in our Pjs and watch some movies, nice and simple, okay?” Steve offered, knowing how hard it can be for Y/n when in this headspace, their mind distant and the day confusing. “Come on, let’s brunch your teeth, and find Mr. Waddles, hm?” Steve stood up, grabbing his mug and gesturing to the bathroom.

“I’ll set the couch up for us.” Eddie smiled, leaping in action, gathering pillows and blankets for the group, the couch soon a miss mash of fuzzy blankets and comfy pillows.

- - - - - -

The day went by quickly, the three of hem sprawled out over the living room, more and more stuffies being added in after every movie, Eddie wanting Y/n to be as comfy as possible. “Here.” Eddie whispered, passing Y/n their sippy cup, and Steve a new mug filled with coffee. “It’s fruit punch.” He warned, making sure they knew what was in it, not wanting them to be surprised.

“Tanks.” Y/n murmured, gripping their stuffie closer, and snuggling back into Steve, Eddie picking up their legs to lay in his lap, blankets quickly thrown over them all to keep warm.

Sure the days plans had changed, but Y/n needed their boys, and their boys were happy to comply, willing to make the hard decisions for the day in exchange for some warm cuddles and happy laughs.

[moonchildstyles]

ALSO for citrine!h something super soft would melt my heart. like maybe his girl suffers from really awful periods or something that are always super painful and exhausting and one month it just hits her so hard and h is just so caring and nurturing to her. 🥺❤️ he looks in all his books for special herb teas and different soups he can make to help her feel better and he lays in bed and rubs her tummy and her back when she has cramps STOP IM SO

could you write something with citrine and /or aster harry about the reader getting her period with him and not feeling well? love ur writing&lt;3

wordcount: 11k+

—————

Harry felt his heart tingle, the lure attached to the organ trying to pull him away from his garden and down the side of his mountain to where the rest of his soul awaited. A bright smile bloomed across his features. 

(Y/N) was almost here.

She had rang him on his sunflower a couple of hours prior, telling him she needed to take care of a couple of errands and pack for the night before she would be on her way over, and he'd been waiting in his garden since. The flowers all around him perked up just as their creator did, following the ray of sunshine he had become for them as he stretched his legs. The bell bottoms of his trousers flourished with every step he took towards the edge of his clearing, his heart roaring the closer and closer to his beloved he became. 

Just as he was about to burst through the treeline, the carrier of his soul beat him to it, her own features set into a glowing smile. 

"Hi, honey," she beamed at him, dropping her overnight bag into the lush grass at their feet. His already sore heart beat a broken tune at the sound of the petname he'd only ever heard wrapped in her voice. 

She launched herself into his opened arms as soon she was free of the weight of her bag, the wind being knock out of Harry for just a moment as he stumbled back before recovering. He fiercely reciprocated her hold, keeping his sunshine close enough to his chest his heart didn't ache so much trying to get to its companion housed in (Y/N)'s chest. 

"Sunshine," he sighed with matching relief. It'd only been thirty-six hours since he'd last been with her, and yet it felt like it could have been weeks with the way a newfound sense of comfort settled over him like nothing had before.

Seeing her like this would never get old. 

He allowed her to pull away just enough to see her face, trace his eyes over her features in commemorative runs. He needed to know if anything changed since he'd seen her last, anything else for him to add to the collection of things like fluttering lashes and stray baby hairs that now made his heart race. 

"How are you? How was class? Did your presentation go alright?" he prattled off as he raised his hands to cradle her cheeks in his warm palms. Her aura radiated around her in buttery yellows and sweetened pinks—his favorite combination on her. 

"I'm good, it was good," she told him, her smile going soft as she seemingly did the same in taking in his aura, "I honestly don't remember much of it because I was so nervous, but I'm assuming it went well since I wasn't called in for office hours after." 

Harry's face soured at the reminder of her professor who was much too harsh on his sunshine in his opinion. "Oh yeah, it was for that class, I forgot," he muttered, shaking his head, "He better leave y'alone, you're the smartest person in the world let alone his little classroom. Needs to be nicer to you." 

The grin on (Y/N)'s face burst into an affectionate laugh at his serious tone. "It's alright, H, don't worry," she assured him, her looped arms squeezing around his middle, "I only have a couple more months of this semester, then I never have to see him again." 

"And, you'll be on break with me," Harry added with a dreamy sigh. Though he wasn't one for the colder months, typically thriving under the sun of summer and sweet air of spring, there was nothing he loved more than spending (Y/N)'s breaks with her, even the winter one. 

"Mhm," she hummed, a glint flaring in her gaze that matched the flash of chipper orange that ribboned through her aura at a second glance, "Unless, you're working, of course." 

Bubbling excitement forged its way through Harry's system at her words. His hands fell to her shoulders, rings glinting in the bright sunlight overhead. 

"Wait, did they—"

Before Harry could even finish his question, (Y/N) bounced in her spot, a beaming smile scrunching her eyes and creating parenthetical lines on either side of her mouth. "Yes, yes! They called today when I was in class, and, H, they loved you! They left a message and offered you the job, you just need to call them back!" 

Gathering her into a hug, Harry barred his forearms around her shoulders as he rocked them in their spot. "Really? They loved me?" Harry bubbled off, his words traveling through the strands of her hair that fluttered around the home he made in her neck. 

"They said they appreciated how much you knew about all the classics, and they could tell you really loved just being there with all the records. They said they really want you on their team, H." (Y/N)'s voice rattling off all the compliments supposedly shared by his new employers sounded sweeter and a more compelling offer than what he was sure awaited him on her tiny cell phone. 

Harry basked in the feeling—the feeling of being in his beloved's arms, the feeling of taking another tiny step back into the world he rejected, and the feeling of being so loved in that moment he swore his heart was to burst. All he needed was Bonnie circling their feet and Dandelion bundling up between his ankles and it would be his idea of heaven.

"I'm so proud of you, Harry." 

That just about melted him. Harry could only hug (Y/N) tighter. 

"Thank you, sunshine. 'S all for you," he murmured, telling her the same thing he did when he told her he applied, got the call for an interview, and returned back from that first meeting. It was the truth, anyway. If not for her, he would still be hermitting away in his cottage, never having had a chance to feel so loved and needed like he did in that moment. 

(Y/N) drew away, Harry barely allowing her the room before relenting his grip on her. Her eyes shone with pride, a matching, colorful aura haloing her form. "Kiss?" 

He didn't even have to think before he was pressing his lips to hers, a garden growing in his chest at the contact. His arms around her form shifted until he was cradling the sides of her neck in his palms, thumb running along the line of her jaw in affectionate passes. Harry kissed her in small bursts of gentle presses, imprinting the feel of her lips against his own. 

When (Y/N) made the move to draw away, Harry had to stop himself from chasing after her lips, a pout forming on his own before he saw the light in her eyes as she gazed up at him. She really was his own personal sunshine. 

"Why don't you give them a call back, and I'll go put my stuff away and say hi to the girls?" (Y/N) proposed, Harry relenting to move his kissing to the soft of her cheek as she spoke. 

"One more, one more, sunshine," he mumbled, already replacing his mouth over hers as soon as he got the plea out. 

(Y/N) kissed him as best she could through her smile, keeping true to the promise of one more before she was pulling away and out of his embrace. She offered him her phone with a here!, sure he would finagle some sort of spell to cast around the device if he didn't immediately get what she called "service" up here. (Harry wasn't sure exactly what service was, but he knew that the set of bars up top needed to be filled in if he wanted to do anything other than take photos). 

His hands were jittery as he navigated her cell phone, finding the voicemail that was left for him. (Y/N) had been right, they seemed to really like him and Harry was all but bouncing in his boots as he placed a charm on her device that allowed him the "service" to redial the phone number and connect with the shop. 

When he heard the cheery greeting on the other end of the phone, the voice of someone who would now be his coworker, Harry brightened with excitement. That would be him soon, answering the phone so he could bestow his knowledge on all things music on whoever was on the other end. With his ear trained towards (Y/N), keeping some of his attention on her as she went about his cottage, Harry bubbled through the phone calls. 

Just as he had hoped, his new employers were excited to hear back from him and it only took a few moments to get everything set up. He was now an official member of the Record Scratch Music Store, a boutique that specialized in all things music with the largest selection of records Harry had ever seen in one place. Plus, it was a part of the same plaza that (Y/N) worked at. 

As soon as he had his first day set up for the following week, Harry couldn't wait to find (Y/N) again and celebrate for a second time that afternoon. He couldn't help himself, he was so excited and proud of himself for those baby steps he was taking to become an even better beloved for her. 

He moved on quick feet towards the cottage, expecting to see (Y/N) sprawled out on his bed with Bonnie loving on her at her feet and Dandelion huddled in her lap. Instead, he found Bonnie still laid out on the porch, head resting on her paws, with Dande munching away at the mushrooms that were growing along the edge of the stoop. A furrow pinched at his brow as the heels of his boots clicked over the wooden deck of his porch, the view through the screen door revealing that she wasn't even lying on his bed or pattering through his kitchen. 

"(Y/N)?" he called as he stepped over the threshold, almost tripping over her overnight bag that had been dropped by the door. 

The bond wrapped around his heart urged him in the direction of the bathroom, the door shut tightly though light seeped out from underneath. "Just a second, Harry," (Y/N) answered back, voice sounding tight. 

Though worry gripped at his middle, Harry sunk down on the edge of his bed and waited patiently.

She wasn't sick, was she? No, Harry decided, he would have been able to tell by her aura if she was feeling ill. Right? Maybe she was changing into some comfy clothes for the sleepover they were having? But, then again, she usually didn't bother with locking herself away behind the bathroom door in those moments, much too comfortable with the fact Harry has seen and loved all of her to worry about redressing out of his view. Why would she be hiding from him, then?

It wasn't until (Y/N) was brought into his life that Harry realized he was a bit of a worry wart. Nothing could spring his anxiety the way she could with the way he was overly concerned with ensuring every bit of her comfort and happiness was protected. Those worries were usually very easily quelled with a look at her aura, golden tinges shining through that showed him that she was being truthful when she said she was fine and happy. But, until that moment came, his heart that had been waiting for her for decades didn't settle, urging Harry to find a solution to any and every scenario that ran through his head. 

That was how he found himself sitting with a bouncing leg, eyes trained on the bathroom door in wait. When (Y/N) finally emerged, she had redressed into a pair of his worn sweats, the waist and legs cuffed the same way he had to after years of wear stretching out the elastic. She didn't seem any different, hair still fluttering like a dream around her, skin glowing under his gaze, and toes still painted the buttery yellow he had done for her last week on their self-care night at her apartment. 

"Everything alright, (Y/N)?" Harry asked, rising from his spot on the bed, arms reaching out to retrieve her as she dropped her discarded clothes on the top of her overnight bag. 

"Mhm," she hummed with a nod of her head, "Why?" 

He noted the way she wouldn't let him get a peek at her eyes, and subsequently her aura, as she instead bundled into his arms. She pressed her cheek snugly against his chest, arms looped around his middle. Though he was happy to have her back in his arms, bundled in his clothes, Harry pouted as he looked down at her, worried.

Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, Harry spoke through the stands of hair on the crown of her head, "You jus' seem sad all of the sudden. Did something happen?" 

A beat passed before (Y/N) muttered a response, "I'm not sad or anything, H, don't worry." 

"(Y/N)," he pouted into her hair, her name coming out on a whine, "You're making me worried, sunshine." 

Harry paid close attention to the way she hesitated, the way she shifted in his arms as if her thoughts were uncomfortable to keep inside. 

"Its... It's kind of... gross, H," she murmured, voice quiet. 

A pinch pulled Harry's brows together in a furrow as he listened to her. "What do you mean?" 

She sighed, but didn't offer any kind of elaboration. Harry's worry never lessened as he waited for her to form a response, only being a solid pillar for her cling and snuggle up to while she worked up to whatever she apparently feared sharing with him. Gently stroking his fingers up and down her back, he waited oh-so-patiently—just like he did during those decades he hadn't even known he was waiting to meet her. 

Finally—finally!—, (Y/N) spared him and settled her chin on his chest, allowing him to get a look at her aura once he met her gaze. An unflattering shade of yellow streamed around her form with a melancholic bruise of a blue shade running like spokes through the halo. She was embarrassed and sad, the anxiety she expressed surely going hand-in-hand with the colors tinting her aura.

"What is it, sunshine?" he murmured, bringing one of his hands up to brush over her cheek. 

Scanning over her features, Harry couldn't bite back the smile that curled the corners of his lips and brought out just the beginnings of his dimples. She was the most gorgeous girl he'd ever seen, even when she was holding a secret. 

"It's just..." she sighed, cutting herself off with a roll of her eyes, "Oh my god, I don't know why I'm so embarrassed. It's not even a big deal." 

Harry didn't push her as she thought aloud, only watching and taking it in as he brushed the pad of his thumb soothingly along the height of her cheekbone. He didn't take his eyes off her, making note of every eyelash, every pore, and every strand that made up his Flame. 

Because of that, it was impossible for him to miss the way her spine stiffened up before it seemed the air was pulled from her lungs. For a beat, her features were molded with creases as she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to force a stunted breath through her mouth. Her arms were tight around his middle, hands squeezed into fists behind his back with the fabric of his shirt getting bunched up in the grip. Just before her eyes closed, Harry caught a glimpse of a burning red searing through her aura before it flickered out. 

She was in pain. 

Before Harry had the mind to react—a healing spell on the tip of his tongue, but too muddled to be strung together through his heart-pounding fear—, (Y/N) settled. Her body relaxed, exhaustion seemingly dragging her down while Harry held her tightly. Her features unfurled, the creases and wrinkles of pain disappearing before she was left with serenely closed eyes and a deep breath being sucked in through her lips. 

"(Y/N)?" Harry murmured, worried out of his mind right then that she hadn't told him something important and now she was suffering body-aching side effects. 

"Sorry, sorry," she shook her head, hair fluttering around her face as she blinked her eyes open, "I'm okay, it was just a really bad cramp, that's all."  He could see her gearing up to tell him something else, one more thing, before she hesitated. That unflattering yellow shimmered around her form. In a last ditch effort, he watched as she shuttered her eyes with a grumpy furrow to her brows before she spoke, "I started my period last night, and it's not even a big deal, I'm just having really bad cramps this time and I'm scared I'm going to bleed on your sheets tonight on accident."

Harry listened to her rushed words, his brows pinched. He held her steady with his palms warming her cheeks, though he could argue that the hold was to anchor him more than anything. It made him ache hearing that she was so upset over something so simple, and the feeling was put on blast the second she explained the searing pain that had shot through her as cramps. 

"Sunshine," he sighed, the call of her petname puffing between the two of them. It was then that (Y/N) blinked her eyes open, already looking more exhausted than she had just a moment ago. "Are they always like this? Painful?" he prodded. He would hate to find out that this wasn't the first time she'd visited him while on her period and hid the symptoms.

"No, not always," she murmured, looking up at him, "Its only every once in a while that my cramps get really bad like this. I usually just try to stay home if they are, but I really wanted to see you this weekend." 

A heavy sigh worked its way out of Harry's lungs as he looked down at his heart's face cradled in his hands. Streaks of gold tinted her aura, honesty shining through, with an uncomfortable orange biting at the edges that showed him she still wasn't quite settled after the last string of cramps that rattled her body. Even her hold on him seemed shaky, as if it was taking every bit of her strength to keep her arms looped around him after exhaustion seeped into her muscles. 

"C'mere," he beckoned her, making a slow trail of his hands down her form until he was unraveling her knotted fingers from where they were placed behind his back and lacing them between his own. 

(Y/N) pliantly allowed him to guide her to the edge of his bed. He sat her down gently on the mattress before he crouched between her legs, knees hitting the wood floor of his cottage with his heels propped up under his bottom. Harry looked up at her with his hands warming her thighs, eyes matching her own so he could gauge her aura. 

Even without the colors radiating from her form, the creases lining her features, bags under her eyes, and the declining slope of her shoulders told him all he needed to know about how the last twenty-four hours hadgone for her. 

"Y'look so tired, dove. Why haven't y'told me sooner about this?" Harry pressed, his fingertips denting into the soft flesh of her thighs, borrowed sweatpants giving way under his grip. 

Dropping her gaze to his hands on her thighs, (Y/N) let out a bubble of laughter though the sound didn't give any light to her eyes like normal. "I thought you were always supposed to think I'm pretty; isn't that what soulmates are for?" 

"No, sunshine, you know I don't mean it like that. Always, always, always so beautiful; breaks my heart to see you sometimes, it feels so full," Harry rambled, immediately reassuring her with the truth on instinct. He even leaned up and into her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "All I meant," he continued, "was that y'don't look as happy as y'usually do. Don't like seeing y'sad." 

A quiet shrug rocked (Y/N)'s shoulders. "I couldn't sleep well last night—I didn't feel good. And I woke up way too early today, but as soon as the cramps started I wasn't able to go back to sleep so I've just been waiting to come over." 

A pout pushed at Harry's lips, "I wish y'had told me over the sunflow—" 

"But it's embarrassing, H." 

"I don't see how it's embarrassing at all, sunshine, really. 'S natural." Harry didn't allow his gaze to stray from hers at all, wanting to make sure she knew that what he was saying was gospel as far as he was concerned. "Growing up with m'sister and mum, and all the women in our coven, 's not like I've never been around this. It was never anything any of them were ashamed of, either. The moon was gifting them with their connection to our Earth, in a way that only someone like you and m'family could handle. Stars know, I could never be as brave as you are to go through this every month, and yet here you are. 'S nothing y'need to be ashamed of or embarrassed about—especially around me, my love." 

Her features softened as she listened to him, her glowing aura growing gentle along with her. Baby pinks and soothed greens made their appearance around her form. 

"I didn't think about it like that," (Y/N) mumbled, peeking through her lashes to match his gaze, "I don't know why I was worried you would be weird about it, I'm sorry." 

His smile bloomed over his mouth and stretched his cheeks as he ran his palms in a soothing circuit along her thighs. "Dovie, I've been around way too long to grossed out about something like this. You've got nothing to worry about." Harry stood to the full of his height between her legs, boots settling on the wood grain of his floor. "Now, c'mere," he beckoned to her, arms opening up wide, "Gotta hug me properly now after that." 

(Y/N) rose to her feet with a smile so airy and relaxed Harry felt his heart bloat. He liked knowing that he could be one of the reasons that she released that tension that had followed her out of the bathroom. Just as promised, she wrapped her arms around his middle in an affectionate hug, hands slipping under the hem of his shirt and splaying across the small of his back in the skin-to-skin contact they always craved after spending time apart. Harry felt his own muscles practically liquify at the feeling, her nails skimming his skin in a gentle brush that he recognized as her.

Stooping down just enough, Harry was able to comfortably cuddle her against his body with his arms barred around her shoulders and his face in her hair. A gentle smattering of kisses was placed at the crown of her head, the garden outside the window growing in mirroring plots. Breathing came easier when she was in his arms. 

Settling his cheek on the top of her head, Harry allowed his eyes to flutter to a close. As much as he loved having her cuddled up like this—flush against his body as their chests swayed in tandem as they breathed—he couldn't get the look of her exhausted gaze out of his mind. 

Though he tried to maintain as much contact as he could, Harry slipped his arms from around her, taking a careful step back before he grabbed for her hands to tangle his fingers through. "Cuddle?" he asked her, looking down at his Fated, their matching polished fingers bundled between them. 

A light returned to her irises at his line of question, nodding her head with the edges of her mouth turning up into a quirked smile. It was Harry's pleasure guiding her onto his creaking mattress, the fluffiest of his pillows being used to cushion her head before Harry followed through on his proposition.

The air was a little too warm to call for the need of the quilt stretched over his mattress, but that didn't deter Harry from becoming his own version of a human duvet with a heavy arm falling across (Y/N)'s waist. The span of his palm was splayed across the small of her back as he pulled her close to his chest. It was her that tucked her face under his chin, nose nudging the dip in his collarbones just before she hooked her ankle around his own and tangled their legs. 

Fisting his shirt in her grip, (Y/N) relaxed into the cradle of his hold, Harry watching as she finally seemed to relax in what appeared to be for the first time in the last twenty-four hours if she'd been experiencing those cramps all night long. He kept his hold on her steady as he felt her energy level out, her body being lulled into what he would charm into being a restful sleep. 

Just as he felt the blink of her aura beginning to soothe itself out while she slept, (Y/N) flared awake with a tense in her back and her breath being stolen. Instinctively, she moved as if intending to curl in on herself if Harry hadn't been there to block her movements. 

"Oh, sunshine," he crooned, the words being lost in the strands of hair on the top of her head as he held her that much tighter. 

His hand on her back worked a soothing circuit along her spine, willing all of the comforting energy he could muster without a true incantation into his hand so he could push away some of pain coursing through her system. A furrow pinched his brow as the ache lingered in her bones, not quite releasing her just yet. What he wouldn't give to take this pain from her; he'd bear the burden of the cramps and exhaustion himself if he knew she wouldn't have to experience the hardest parts of this gift every month. 

Harry knew the worst of it was over for the moment when she sunk deeply into the mattress under them, her body somehow feeling heavier after that moment, her nose nudging against his collarbones as she let out a heavy breath. 

"If I could," he murmured to her, lips pressing against the crown of her head, "I would take all this away. Hate seeing y'in so much pain." 

"I know you would, H," she whispered, voice as heavy as her muscles, "And if you ever figure out how, I won't stop you." 

That brought a smile to his face at her tiny joke. It would be his lifelong mission if it came to that—finding some kind of mystical cure to what she was enduring. 

Harry didn't stop his hand from the running circuit on her back as she settled into a hopefully more successful attempt at sleeping. He stayed that way even when he felt her energy lull into a true rest. A murmured spell into her hairline ensured she would only experience comforting, happy dreams for as long as she slept with another incantation following after that would keep her resting until most of her exhaustion finally fled from her system.  

Watching over her head, the shadows around his cottage shifted and changed as the sun traced its path in the sky. Never once did Harry dare to move from the cocoon he made around his lover's body. Even when (Y/N) rolled around in his hold, pillow fluffing under her head and duvet mussing around her form, he stayed just where he was when she settled with her back clumsily pressed against his chest. Now his hand laid gentle over her stomach, the soothing energy he could manifest into his palm now working on the knot that lingered and tightened with every ache that wracked through her system. 

He only bothered with a wave of his hand when Bonnie began to whine at the screen door to be let in followed by Dande hopping behind her. His girls had grown to love (Y/N), too, so he wasn't surprised to see Bonnie nose at her arm that hung over the edge of the bed, licking at her palm just once before his lion settled into a roll on the floor, eyes on the front door as she played guard for the night. Dande took quiet steps over the creaking mattress, her budding nose puffing  as she sniffed over Harry's hand on (Y/N)'s tummy, her ears twitching. Peaking over (Y/N)'s form, Dandelion gave him a look that only his intuitive bunny could manage, as if she was well aware of what was going on and was worried like Harry. He watched with a small smile as Dande made herself into a ball that conformed with the shape of (Y/N)'s sleeping body, padding herself against the ache in (Y/N)'s tummy like she knew. 

Having all of his girls together—both of his pets even taking on a portion of helping ease (Y/N)—made Harry's heart feel so full he feared it would steal his breath. If his Flame hadn't been feeling so down in the dumps today, he would think of this as the most perfect moment, the kind that he didn't even know he had been yearning for all those years alone.

But, knowing (Y/N) was alright now, soothed enough that she could fall into a deep sleep, he felt himself being drawn into the dreamland she was currently visiting. With Dandelion standing guard at (Y/N)'s tummy and Bonnie being the protector of the front door, he figured he could take a moment and nap with his Flame.

Hopefully, he would find her even in his dreams. 

—————

It was Dande that cut his nap short as she plodded over the pillows until she was puffing her nose in Harry's face and nudging him awake. He fluttered his eyes open to the still waning sun, long shadows dancing around his cottage with (Y/N) still protected against his chest just as she had been when he fell asleep. Bonnie was a steady presence that he could just barely see over the edge of the bed, not having moved much from when he had last had his eyes opened. 

Dandelion was the only one to have moved, looking down at him from where she stood on his pillows. "What's wrong?" he murmured to her, voice deep and dredged in sleep. 

His bunny only shuffled her feet on the cushion, ears twitching. Her puffing nose never relented, dark gaze still attached to Harry as if he should have already read her mind. 

"Is there anything wrong, or did y'jus' miss me?" Harry pressed. He wouldn't be surprised to find out she was only missing the attention he gave her, and woke him up because of it.

Instead of the humph he was expecting from her, she gave a gentle thump with her back foot to the pillow under his head. If she had brows he knew they would be downturned to match grumpy attitude she was giving him. 

"Dandelion," he sighed, tightening his hold on (Y/N), "If you're grumpy that we're napping, 'm sorry, but I can let y'outside if y'want. (Y/N) needs her sleep, honey, we need to let her." 

The little bunny didn't move from her grumped perch, only shuffling her paws. Harry was just about to shoo her away, urge her to cuddle up against (Y/N) again or conjure up something fun for her to play with outside if she was so bored, until she let out that huff he'd been waiting for before leaning down and nibbling at a stray curl of his splayed over the pillow. 

A gentle tug was felt at his scalp as she pulled on the strands, just enough to get Harry's attention. The pieces clicked together then, her grumpy attitude making complete sense. 

"You're hungry?" he asked her, his voice coming out on a laugh, "Is that what you're all upset about, Dande? Could've told me, I can put something together for you, ju—" 

Before he could finish his offer, Dandelion stopped nibbling at his hair and instead rubbed her face over the top of (Y/N)'s head, her cheek smushing against the crown. Harry watched her for a second, trying to piece together this second set of information. 

"Do y'want (Y/N) to make you f—No? That's not it?" If bunnies could roll their eyes, Harry knew Dandelion wouldn't hesitate to spare his feelings. It was when she gave a short nibble to the pillowcase before twitching her ears in (Y/N)'s direction that Harry (hopefully) caught onto what Dande was trying to tell him. "(Y/N)'s hungry?" 

The little perk up in Dandelion's posture told him all he needed to know, even if he swore her eyes were telling him Duh! 

"Thank y'for telling me, honey," he cooed to her, reaching his free hand out from under his head and gentle patting between his bunny's ears. 

He didn't doubt her intuition, his Dandelion. More often than not, she was smarter than him anyway, so he didn't bother to grill her on how exactly she knew (Y/N) was hungry and that Harry needed to know immediately so he could fix that. He only gave her a lingering brush of his fingers between her perked ears that made her eyes blink to a slow close before he made careful work of removing himself from the bed. 

Harry gently unwrapped himself from around his Flame in a careful extraction, ensuring she wasn't jostled too much and stayed content in her sleep. Dandelion made her place against (Y/N)'s side, keeping her company again now that Harry knew how dire the situation was. 

Bonnie barely lifted her head from where it rested on her paws as Harry stepped over the floorboards, a grin blooming on his face that could rival the sunflowers growing along the shingles of his roof. Bathed in the buttered sunlight, the most important facets of Harry's life were threaded together on his bed. Dandelion was now happily sprawled out in comfort, feet kicked out beside (Y/N) with Bonnie being the perfect roll by the bed, the sleepiest protector. (Y/N) was still the vision of serenity as his charms were taking perfect care of her, letting his heart rest and dream perfect dreams. 

He couldn't help himself before he clicked his fingers, his gifted polaroid—arguably his most valuable and favorite possession along with his record player and vinyl collection—was summoned to him. The yellow camera was heavy in his hands as he brought the viewfinder to his eye, the vision in front of him now warped. The click and shutter of the camera going off was the only sound to fill the room before the film was printing from the slot at the front. Harry was quick to grab for it, clicking his camera back to its safe spot in his closet with a snap of his fingers. 

The photo developed slowly, though Harry's grin didn't waver as he waited. Once it came all together, he was granted with the perfect vision of what lie before him, frozen in time and his to keep for the rest of his existence. The lens had perfectly picked up on the slight gap to (Y/N)'s lips, short puffs of air falling from between them as she dreamt her sweetened dreams. Baby hairs were pasted to her temples, the strands kissing at the frame of her face the way he loved to do. The whole vision was bathed in golden tones, the perfect glimmering light that caught the high points of her face and pinged off the tips of her bare lashes as she slept with her cheek smushed into his pillow. Around her were the woodland guardians that made up the rest of Harry's small family. Bonnie emulated a warm cinnamon roll perched on the floor, slacking on her guard lion duties as she slept the afternoon away, with Dandelion a puff of white fur cuddling into (Y/N)'s tummy with a puffing nose and twitchy ears. 

Harry's heart swelled as he took in every detail. With a brush of his fingertips along the edge of the film, the photo was brought to life. The golden light filtering through the window now gleamed in sunspots over (Y/N)'s hair and sparkled as it hit the highpoints of her face. The shadows shifted as the flowers outside gently swayed in the summer breeze. It was perfect—the perfect dream that would come to Harry's mind if he had been charmed into having the most pleasant of dreams. 

Padding across the floor, being mindful of the creakiest of his floorboards, Harry made his way to the wall facing his bed. Along the wall was shimmering vines that grew in celebration of the love he held for his Flame, flowers twinkling with points of light dotted across the flora. In the gaps of the growth was all the photos he had pinned to his wall, moments with (Y/N) or his pets, shots of his garden and the moon that he never wanted to forget. Each frame displayed that moment in time on repeat—(Y/N) twirling in the meadow outside his cottage, Dandelion trying to shove her namesake plant in her mouth, Bonnie circling his feet with a whipping tail. This new photo found its place just beside a picture of (Y/N) making a kissy face at him through the lens, the frame showing off the way she laughed after making the pose. 

A broad grin made its way onto his face, dimples deep in his cheeks, smile lines creasing his face, as he trailed his gaze along the wall. Wasn't he a lucky, lucky man? 

Casting a short glance over his shoulder, he found (Y/N) still cuddled into his bed, serenely sleeping away the exhaustion that tainted her features. Dande was happily snuggled against her mom's tummy, though that didn't stop her from throwing side-eyes in Harry's direction. He knew that if she could talk, she would no doubt be hounding him for taking too long on following through her what she told him. She's still hungry, you know, he could picture her prattling off, Just because you took a picture of us doesn't mean you can get distracted.

The attitude of that little thing. He had a plan, no reason to worry. (Y/N) was going to be well taken care of, no doubt. 

Harry allowed one last lingering glance across his wall of art, before he was silently stepping away.  He needed to find his spell book, see if there was anything in there that could help ease the discomfort of (Y/N)'s cramps and hopefully gently help her through the next week. The spell he had in mind before, the incantation that instinctively came to the forefront of his mind the first second he saw her tense and in pain wouldn't be much help as she didn't have any physical wounds to heal. He needed something that would soothe her internally. 

Reaching under his bed with a careful pet to Bonnie's head, he found his large, leather bound spell book. Inside held every word that guided him through his life as a witch. His most favorite chapters were clearly marked with the worn corners and edges of the paper, those pages surely detailing out any romantic spellwork that could be performed between a witch and their Flame. Though he instinctively gravitated towards those pages, he stopped himself before he could become distracted with the looping handwriting of an ancestor he'd never met, but had the same privilege as he in meeting their soulmate. 

Instead, he followed the fading index at the front of the book, looking for healing and soothing spells and rituals. The chapter glossary directed him to "Spells needed during a Blood Moon Cycle" (which is very different from spells that are used during a Blood Moon, as many witches have made the mistake and come up with very differing results). Inside were spells he remembered his sister vaguely using, or the many other witches in his coven as he grew up, though he never felt the need to memorize them. 

Harry flipped through the pages, scanning over the results while he waited for the perfectly right spell to pop up. Short rituals to help with mood swings? No, she doesn't need that he didn't think. A spell to ward off the cycle all together? A little too late for that it seemed. A salve to help heal hormonal breakouts? Glancing at (Y/N)'s glowing skin, Harry figured he wouldn't need to worry about that one, especially if she didn't ask for it first. 

Potions to help with cramps? Perfect! 

Harry thumbed to the page, taking in the first slew of ingredients. Reading it over, this particular potion seemed a little too ancient to execute, especially with the use of a Harper's Nest being called for. (No Harpers had been seen in centuries, let alone any remaining nests on Earth). Flicking to the backside of the same page, he found a much more familiar recipe. 

Reading it over, Harry pinged where the ingredients were in his head, a map forming of all the places he would need to slip off to before (Y/N) woke. He wanted to have it warm and ready for her the second she woke up, the tea-like potion something for her to sip on while he made dinner. That was how he found himself pressing a gentle kiss to (Y/N)'s forehead before trying his best to avoid the creaky floorboards of his cottage as he made his way outside. 

The recipe he had stowed away in his brain directed him to his garden first, finding the short stalks of chamomile flowers that started popping up once he added daisies to his plots. Muttering a quiet thank you to his plants, he tugged out a grouping of the flowers, a tiny bouquet forming in his hands of the white flowers. Digging through the rest of his garden, he pulled some nettle leaves carefully from the bunch, ensuring he didn't accidentally sting himself with the pointed greens. 

With his growing potion in hand, Harry left the meadow of his home with a quick glance behind him to ensure (Y/N) was still safe and sound asleep. He didn't love leaving her alone, but he needed to grab this one last ingredient then he could once again join her. Scavenging around the area past the tree line, Harry found the bushel he was looking for just past one of the bigger trees that helped hide the view to his clearing. 

Instead of a tall, limbering tree like most cherry plants, Harry searched the ground for a small bush staying close to the strongest roots of the large tree. Underneath all of the low hanging greens were pert little cherries. The bright red hue stuck out starkly against the green of their leaves and the dirt path they bordered. Plucking off a few pairs of the fruits, Harry grinned when he saw just what he had been looking for. 

These cherries had abandoned the regular rounded shape of their cousins long ago, instead following the pattern of the sky and molding their flesh into the shape of the stars above them. Since they grew so low to the ground, the only way to reach the kind of light needed to grow, was from the twinkling stars that peeked through the brush. The starlight gave the fruits their own special properties, especially as they became so in sync with the moon cycle, making it perfect for what Harry was hoping to do with his potion. 

Harry made quick work of navigating through the trees, finding his way back to his heart. (Y/N) was sound asleep still as he crossed the threshold, Bonnie being the only one to acknowledge his presence as she lifted her head from where it rested on her paws with half hooded eyes. 

Feeling the energy of his little family behind him, Harry happily got to work in the kitchen. His mortar and pestle were the first stop in making his tea, the chamomile flowers and nettles going in first before he began to grind them together. The petals of the flowers fell apart and mixed with the green leaves, leaving streaks of yellow from the center and fragrant punches of their floral aroma to linger in the air. A quick flick of his fingers allowed for the paste to begin drying, becoming crumbly and perfect for the teabags he was to scoop them in. As he allowed the process to take place, next was steeping of the cherries on the stove to make the perfect tart base for her tea, the cherries hopefully covering up the bitter nettle taste. The starlight berries floated in the slowly boiling water on the stove, tinting everything pink as the color seeped from the flesh and allowing dews of starlight to trickle through. 

Stirring through the beginnings of the tea, Harry watched in awe of the stars twinkling through, creating vortexes with a spin of his spoon. If he looked close enough, he'd bet there were galaxies forming in the pot.

A delicate sigh sounded from behind him before the springs of his mattress creaked under movement. Peeking over his shoulder, he found (Y/N) adjusting herself in her sleep, though he could tell from he beat of her energy she wouldn't be sleeping for too much longer. The sun had made its way down low to the horizon, taking them farther from the lunchtime she had missed and closer to dinner where he planned on taking care of her before entertaining her until she found sleep once more. 

With her tea warming and the paste that would fill the teabags drying under an imaginary sun, Harry got to work on the dinner he was set to make for her. She always loved the soups he made for her, just behind the fresh pastries he was trying his hand at after becoming obsessed with a bakery in town. But, he figured he didn't really have enough time to make the perfectly layered and flaky croissant right now, so soup it was. 

With a pot warming up stock on the stove next to her simmering tea (the stars had become so plentiful that the dark liquid was beginning to shimmer like the night sky), the sound of Harry chopping vegetables and portioning out the ingredients filled the room. If not for (Y/N)'s sleeping, he would have flicked his record player on, Elton John being on tonight's turntable. Instead, he kept his focus on the moving parts going on in his kitchen. 

Wild rice, potatoes, peas, and yogurt were the first editions to his soup, letting everything soften and warm while he took care of the final steps of (Y/N)'s tea. With a wave of his fingers, tiny, cloth teabags were summoned to his workstation. As he spooned the chamomile and nettle mixture into the bags, Harry flicked his gaze to the windowsill in front of him, a handful of his crystals having been charging in the day's sun. Spotting the small shard of amethyst that shown a velvety purple in the darkening sky beside the cluster of celestite that matched the baby blue tones of morning sunshine, Harry deviated from the original spell for just a moment. Plucking the pair of crystals, Harry added them to what would be (Y/N)'s serving of the tea, allowing their healing properties to seep into the cherry sweet base of her drink. 

Setting a pair of mugs aside, Harry spooned the cherry drink into the ceramic first, (Y/N)'s carefully taken care of in a special cow printed mug she loved drinking out of when she came over. Her teabag was left to steep inside while Harry's was pushed off to the side in wait of whenever (Y/N) was ready and awake. With a flick of his wrist and a short spell muttered under his breath, the helpings of tea were charmed to stay warm in their mugs no matter how much time passed. His focus shifted to the now warmed soup, the bit of magic he cast that helped in the process of softening the vegetables and cooking the rice brought them to just the perfect temperature as he whisked his spoon through the creamy mixture. 

While bubbles simmered to the surface, Harry distracted himself with the herb garden he had growing just along the sill of his glassless window. As he plucked at the bunches of sage and thyme, Harry almost missed the sound of the bed creaking, a pulse in (Y/N)'s energy signaling she was awake. Dropping the seasonings to the counter, a bright grin took over Harry's features. 

Turning on his heel, his heart beat just a bit faster as he took in the way her messy hair was fluffed around her face as she knuckled at her eye. A slight furrow pinched at her brow as she sat up, Dandelion none too happy with the change in position though it only took her a moment to take advantage of the warm spot (Y/N) left behind. 

"Hi, sunshine," he sighed, voice soft as he rounded the peninsula counter of his kitchen to be closer to his love. 

"Hi," she muttered, voice giving away just how groggy she was with a grumble to her tone. 

"How'd y'sleep, dove?" Harry asked, shuffling to crouch in front of where she sat on the edge of his bed. Gentle hands landed on the thick of her thighs, palms warming her skin through the fabric of her borrowed sweats. 

Her hooded eyes blinked slowly at him as she ran a hand through her hair. "Good—way better than last night," she murmured, a smile tugging at her sleep-dredged features, "Did you put a spell on me or something? Because I even had those good dreams of you and I." 

That would never get old, Harry decided; every time he put a sweet dream charm on her, she always shared that those dreams typically consisted of the two of them, lounging or kissing or whatever els her mind conjured up to make her sleep sweet. 

"Maybe," Harry mused, a quiet shrug of his shoulders being the only answer she needed, "Dande told me y'were hungry, is that true?" 

(Y/N) gazed down at him with a pinch in her brow at the mention of the bunny's name. "How did she know that?" 

"I don't know, love," Harry started, flicking his gaze to the sleeping rabbit behind her, "She knows things that I don't think I'll ever understand. I stopped questioning her a long time ago." 

He could see the way (Y/N) accepted the answer, just as she did when he exposed himself as a witch. There wasn't much else that could shock someone, even an intuitive bunny rabbit that somehow knew about their owner's eating habits. "I mean, in my dream you were making me breakfast for a while, so maybe she picked up on that. Are you making dinner?" 

A bubbling nod caused Harry's curls to flop over his forehead. "Mhm," he hummed, "I've got some soup going, and I made y'some tea that's supposed to help with your tummy, if y'wanted to try it." 

Harry's pride only expanded as he watched her perk up at the mention of tonight's menu. "What kind of tea is it?" 

Delivering one last squeeze to the mid of her thigh, he stood to the full of his height between her legs with a broad smile on his face. "It was something m'sister used to make when she wasn't feeling well during her Moon Cycle," he explained to her as he moved to the kitchen, her special cow printed mug warming his hands as he took it to her. 

The tea shimmered in his hold, the teabag having sunk to the bottom of the mixture leaving the starry liquid to shine under the waning sunlight. (Y/N) awed when she saw the glimmering light coming from her mug, her careful fingers wrapping around the ceramic, grazing over Harry's hand as he passed it off. 

"How did you get stars in here?" she asked, voice hushed as if afraid to disturb the vision in her cup. 

"There's this kind of cherry that only grows under starlight, and whenever it's used like this, stars spill right out of it. I thought y'would like it," he told her, sitting beside her on the edge of his bed as he awaited her reaction to the first sip. 

With the mug nestled in her hands, (Y/N) carefully brought it to her mouth for a taste, eyes brightening as soon as the first splash hit her tongue. Two more large gulps later, a broad grin covered Harry's features. She liked it. 

"Harry," she bubbled, starlight glimmering on the pillow of her bottom lip before her tongue peeked out to swipe it away, "this is so good! Try some!" 

Harry could have melted away as he watched her offer him her mug, the tea that he has specially crafted to aid her cramps swirling in the cup. "I've got m'own waiting over there, but thank you, sunshine. I want y'to drink the whole thing before we have dinner, alright?" His words came out as a clear direction as he left her to finished her mug on his bed, his soup and bundled herbs calling to him before they burned. "M'book says two servings should cure you of your cramps until the end of the Moon Cycle." 

At the mention of dinner, Harry saw (Y/N)'s features brighten further. It was nice seeing her come back to herself after the scare she gave him. "What soup are you making?" 

Her eyes followed him into the kitchen, gaze dropping to his hands as he worked on the sage leaves and sprigs of thyme he was working into the soup. "Your favorite," he told her with a smile over his shoulder. 

She practically bounced on the edge of the mattress, the springs creaking. "The rice one? With the peas and everything? 

"That's the one," he told her, dropping the herbs and various seasonings he had portioned out into the simmering pot. 

"Oh, Harry," she crooned, the pout he was sure she had on her face evident in her voice, "You didn't have to do all this." 

Harry was quick to shoo off her remark with a wave of his hand, his attention directed on the stirring of the soup. "I don't have to do anything, sunshine, but I want to do this for you. Tears me up inside to see y'so upset and in pain over something that shouldn't be a punishment. I jus' want to make y'happier, love, that's all 'm trying to do." 

When he didn't hear any response for a moment, a pinch quirked Harry's brows. He hoped he hadn't made her upset; if she really didn't want him to do all of this for her, she only needed to tell him and he'd back off. Looking over his shoulder, he ended up finding her with a pair of watery eyes and a pout of her lips. 

"I love you," she peeped out between her puffed lips, the sentiment small as it hung in the air between them. 

"Sunshine," Harry sighed, abandoning his soup in favorite of catering to his flame, "C'mere." He beckoned to her with arms opened wide as he rounded the kitchen counter. (Y/N) was quick to move into his arms, her own looping around his middle with her face tucked against his chest. 

Burying his nose into her hair, Harry carefully ran his hands in a circuit along her back, soothing circles burrowing under her skin and relaxing her system. He cradled her against his chest as he cooed to her, reciprocating her sentiment of love and calming her from the tears that threatened to lead over her waterline. Her breathing came in watery puffs against his chest, the warm air leaking through his top and caressing his skin. He paid close attention to the pacing of her exhales, ensuring that she was feeling less on edge by the time he pulled back from her. Maybe, he would have to revisit the ritual he saw earlier for mood swings. 

"Feeling a little teary today, too?" he asked her, voice a quiet croon between just the two of them. 

"Yeah, I guess so," (Y/N) breathed out a laugh against his chest, "Its not usually this bad though. You're just being too sweet, it caught me off guard." 

A gentle kiss was pressed to the top of her head, the strands of her hair brushing against his nose and tickling his cheeks. "I didn't mean to make y'cry, sunshine—jus' love y'so much, that's all." 

"I know," she sighed. Her arms around his middle tightened as she spoke the words that without fail made him feel like he was joining the moon and becoming a star with only the purpose of floating through the sky and shining bright for all to see: "I love you, too, Harry. Best thing that ever happened to me." 

A smile bloomed across his features as he buried his face in her hair. His eyes fluttered to a contented close as he took in the moment, his heart feeling complete with his lover right in his arms and the best thing she could ever say to him echoing in his ears. "You're gonna make me cry now, if you're not careful. Not gonna be able to finish making dinner when y'get me teary like this, you know that."

That got (Y/N)'s attention as she pulled back from Harry's chest just enough to look up at him. "But, I'm still hungry," she pouted, a teasing glint sparking across her now dry eyes. 

"I know," he smiled down at her, ducking his head to nudge his nose against hers in a puppy's kiss, "That's why you've gotta be gentle with me. Can't really take care of y'when 'm all weepy cause you're being sweet on me." 

(Y/N) let out a quiet laugh that transformed her features, softened every curve and adding creases to her eyes and lines around her mouth. Her eyes were dreamy and far away as she looked up at him. "Fine," she relented on a sigh, "Kiss before you go back to work?" 

Harry didn't even try to stand up against the pucker of her lips, immediately stretching his neck and pressing his mouth to hers in a heart-mending kiss. Though the contact was nothing more than an innocent press, Harry still felt his heart thump, urging itself to runaway as he pulled back. 

With a final nudge from (Y/N) pushing him towards the kitchen and the soup that was simmering away on the stove, it was with a smile quirking the corners of his lips and a heart trying to lift up to the clouds that he finished up the nights meal. Herbs and spices were added to the mixture, fragrancing the air with notes of sage and warm thyme. By the time he had developed the flavor he was looking for, he couldn't dole out the servings fast enough as he felt (Y/N)'s eyes on his back. 

Chunks of a crusty baguette he had hidden away in his bread box were portioned out for both bowls, (Y/N) given the bigger serving as he carefully moved to sit beside her on his bed. His minimalist cottage allowed for the pair of them to cozy up on his bed with the nest of his duvet fluffed around them, a dining table not necessary in Harry's mind when he could be close to (Y/N) like this instead. 

With her legs crossed underneath her, (Y/N) settled the warm bowl in her lap, peas and potato chunks floating around in the creamy soup, bright spots of green herbs ribboning through the mixture. Harry waited for her opinion on the soup first, watching her take her first bite while he absently flicked his hand to summon his helping of tea (that he was going to end up giving to (Y/N) as it seemed she had already finished her first mug). 

With a spoonful loaded with the wild rice and bright vegetables, (Y/N) took a careful bite. The smile that brightened her face, brows raised and eyes wide made Harry's chest puff with pride. 

"This is even better than last time, H," she beamed, spooning out another bite though her attention was pinned to him, "Did you do anything different?" 

Harry shook is head, curls flopping over his forehead at the motion. "No, jus' tried extra hard to make it good for you. Feeling any better with the tea and everything?" 

An excited nod of (Y/N)'s head sent her own hair a flutter, strands having escaped the twist she had put it in. Swallowing down her bite of dinner, she flicked her eyes to the extra mug of tea Harry had in his hand. Without thinking, he offered it to her with a silent question, urging her to wrap her fingers around the handle and take a sip. 

"I still feel a little icky," she said, throat bobbing as she swallowed down her seeing of starlight, "But way better than yesterday. Thank you for helping me." 

(Y/N) hadn't been paying attention as she brought another spoonful of soup to her mouth, going a bit haywire with a bump to her lip and causing a dribble of the mixture to land on the point of her chin and smear over the side of her mouth. Harry breathed out a laugh, bringing his hand up to her chin before swiping away the mess with the pad off is thumb. 

"That's what 'm here for, sunshine," he cemented through his smile, bringing his thumb to his mouth to lick off the mess he had cleaned for her. 

Her cheeks went warm as she watched him, aura matching with a cozy yellow and rosy pink that was his favorite combination to see haloing her form. 

—————

"Sorry I'm not being any fun tonight, I'm just still so tired." 

Harry watched with adoration swimming in his gaze as (Y/N) yawned before snuggling deeper under the covers stretched over his bed. Two empty mugs with residual stardust lingering in the bottom sat in his sink, and only a single helping left of the wild rice soup was stowed away and chilling in the refrigerator. (Y/N) had been effectively wined and dined, her system warmed and loosened enough that it had taken very little convincing on Harry's part to suggest that they head to bed early that night. Both Bonnie and Dandelion had embarked on their own adventures halfway through dinner, bored with watching their parents give each other lovey eyes and coo to one another. They would be back, he was sure, they couldn't stand to be too far from (Y/N) when she visited overnight. 

"Don't be sorry, Dovie," he told her climbing into bed beside her, "I don't blame you. Healing takes a lot out of you, and 'm sure it's not easy during your Moon Cycle." 

(Y/N) answered in a quiet sigh as Harry wrapped his arms around her. Her own arms were bundled between them, fingertips just barely brushing along the line of his collarbone. Just holding her, Harry could feel a thread of tenseness that had leaked back into her system, the tea and soup having done enough to relax her muscles, but nothing could completely erase the discomfort that came with feeling parts of your insides leave your body in a not so pleasant process. 

With a wave of his fingers behind her shoulder, Harry queued his record player up, a Bread record spinning on the turntable. Soft notes of Baby I'm-A Want You filtered through the cottage, blending with the gentle sound of the swaying breeze that blew just outside. Using the cover of the song to muffle the spell he recited over (Y/N)'s head, Harry enchanted his hands with the charm of a healing touch. A warmth touched at his palms, spreading through to his fingers until there was a level of heat that simmered under his skin. It was a touch uncomfortable for him, a sensation he wasn't used to, but was more than willing to go through if it was going to help (Y/N) finally be pulled from the turmoil her body was putting her through. 

The reaction was almost immediate as he pressed his hands to the expanse of her back. Muscles shifted and liquified, the arch and ache of her bones softened, and the stiff set of her body curled and sunk into the mattress and his arms. 

"Its like you're a heating pad or something. Already feeling so much better now that you're holding me." (Y/N) mumbled words were smeared against the slope of his throat, a broad smile touching at his lips. 

Sure, he could explain to her that he had actually cast a healing spell on his hands, tell her that it wasn't anything more than a clever charm that would wear off through the night—or, he could keep her thinking that his touch by itself was healing her, his presence just the antidote she needed. Maybe it was a bit selfish to go with the second option, but not harmful at all, Harry decided with a quiet smile.

Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he continued his circuit over her back, occasionally playing with the ends of her stray hairs and drawing affectionate shapes across the planes of her back. Despite the short nap he had taken that afternoon, feeling her so close to him brought out a serenity that was hard to ignore, even when he hadn't started out the cuddle session tired at all. 

"What song is this?" (Y/N) murmured, her words slurred and half asleep, just as they usually were when she needed that final shove of his calming voice to lull her to her dreams. And she knew nothing got him talking like music did. 

"'S this song by Bread—" 

"Bread?" 

Harry breathed out a laugh that ruffled the hair on the crown of her head. God, he loved her. No one could make him laugh like she did. 

"I know, 's a weird one, isn't it? But, this album came out in '71, I think, and..."

—————

its been so long since I posted something for citrine so im so excited for everyone to revisit their story!!! thank u sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes!! if you have any ideas or requests of your own please send them in!