#i love my wife so much im sorry for not drawing you for so long juno baby

[blueribbs]

some justice sketches with a little bit of jackstice cuz i miss drawing them

a closeup of the smaller two

[eldrith]

˗ˏˋ your lips, my lips ˎˊ˗ Jacaerys Velaryon

jacaerys velaryon x fem!wife!reader words: 5.6k synopsis: you remind Jacaerys that there is no shame in accepting help, especially from his wife. notes: this idea came to me in a fever dream the other day idek. this can be read as an au, it is implied that the dance happened but that luke is alive so idk. as i always say: do what you love. i think jace can be happy for a bit, as a treat. this is honestly like 3k fluff and 2k smut lol. pls lmk what you think <3 warnings: canon-typical injury. jace is so horny and in love that he becomes a poet! light dirty talk(mostly in valyrian bc jace is shy), very very brief breeding kink, slightly sub!jace, praise kink (mutual), slight size kink, hair pulling, pussy whipped jace, PiV creampie, reader rides him. valyrian is translated at the end (author uses a translator so if its wrong im sorry). feedback is appreciated<3 requests open. masterlist.

SHADOWS DANCE. 

Toes cold upon empty stone, you pad across a corridor; short, illuminated in torchlight. A path you’ve taken many times. 

Worry twists your fingers together, toying as you watch the silhouette of your night shift swish upon the contours of the wall. Chamber doors which connect the small hall to your own are open; an afterthought, perhaps, though your husband quite often prefers to slumber with his door to yours drawn open. 

He is hurting. 

Not in any dire way, not by far. Burns, the whispers had reached your ears - from maester to house worker to ladies in wait - burns, across the Prince’s palms; some troubles while handling dragonfire. You have been alive for long enough to have seen dragons dance, see the flesh melt from bones of even those coursing with Valyrian blood in their veins. You cannot imagine the pain of it, lying marred in his palms. 

The maester has seen worse, you are told. He is not in too much pain, to your relief - he is neither sick nor hurting but rather unable to perform any tasks, no matter how menial; something you know your husband will not take lightly. Only a few paces and you reach his chambers, taking in the sandalwood and cedar smoking in small dipped sticks; a favor of his mothers, he told you once. He’s taken to them recently, to the comforting scent; as have you.  

Feet move slowly into the archway; his chambers are always so much warmer than your own. Furs, thicker - bed, more comfortable, hearth, drawn larger. Though it is more likely to do with the company. 

Your husband stands before the mirror of his chambers, his back upon you. 

You watch for a moment - his brows, furrowed in the reflection, a razor is held rather uncertainly in a bandaged grasp. A pang through your stomach at the sight of the gauze, restricting his fingers; a kind glow of candlelight dances across concentrated eyes, once-steady hands trembling as he holds the blade against his cheek, head tilted back. 

Slow breaths - your chest moves with his, as it seems to do more and more these days; a drag of a blade, the wobbling of which sets your teeth upon edge. Such a mundane chore, shaving: yet you know just as most how painful the burns of dragons may be upon flesh.

Your sweet husband is a proud soul; you can almost picture him, resolutely dismissing any offers of assistance before he readied himself for the night. Struggling to wet the razor, to lift it upon his face, yet doing so with a bristling determination. You linger, a specter in the doorway, fingers tracing the stone arch beside you as he works. Slow, determined.  

His chest rises and falls beneath the simple tunic; unlaced, revealing the glimpse of skin awaiting beneath as he clenches his jaw, metal dragging against porcelain. 

Though as soon as you draw a breath, a hiss from him - the razor has slipped, blood thinning in a bloom upon his cheek. Stark against such pale skin. He curses softly, thick brows knitting in some helplessness as his wounded fingers, shaking in pain or perhaps frustration, brush and come away crimson. 

You step forward immediately, concern overriding all hesitations and shyness you’d felt previously.

"Jacaerys," your voice, soft and scarcely a whisper, carries through the room. Through the mirror your husband looks up, his eyes meeting yours. 

A whisper of surprise in his visage that melts into some shade of embarrassment as he turns to you. Your name, falling from his plush lips, bitten in previous exasperation. His voice is warm, guilty. "I did not wish to wake you."

You shake your head softly - he’d not made a single sound since you returned from your evening duties to retire. You learned of his injuries through scarce whispers in the corners of your chamber, not from any loud disruptions from within his own. 

 Ignoring his words, you move closer - feet light, heart aching for his felt helplessness; A crimson tear beads out of the thin cut upon the cut on his cheek. You tilt your head to look into the warmth of his eyes. "You should not be doing this with your injuries," you chide, nodding to the strips of bandage around his palms.

A sigh from him, gentle nod as he looks down upon your expression. "I did not wish to trouble anyone," you find a touch of frustration still coloring his voice, but are not foolish enough to believe an ounce of it could ever be directed towards you. "I am not so helpless." he prepends with a clenched jaw. 

Nodding, you gently take the razor from his loose grip. "No, you are not.” You agree gently, “Sit.” 

You guide him to the table aside the mirror with light hands. He murmurs your name; it slips through his lips like honey. "I do not wish to burden you. It is late, I would not want to keep you awake." 

You cannot help the surge of affection; your husband, so doting, thoughtful. A gentle touch to his cheek, your fingers grazing just under the fresh cut as you swipe away the red. "Sleep can wait.” Your voice is just as gentle as his own. “And you are not a burden; You are my husband. Your troubles are mine."

He sighs, a small appreciative smile growing upon his lips. "I resent being unable to tend to myself." he admits sheepishly.

You run your hands gently over his palm, tracing gently over where gauze conceals marred flesh. “You must heal fully so you might be of aid again soon.” You pull away, crossing the room to retrieve the cloth, oils, and small bowl of water; “In the meantime, there is no shame in accepting help. Especially not from your wife."

His eyes follow you upon your return, your sleep gown swishing against the quiet of the apartments; aware of the semi-sheerness of the fabric, you feel yourself flush. His smile is appreciative.

The bowl makes a small noise as you place it upon the table - you watch the soft illumination of your reflection ripple in the water. “I am a lucky man.” He says, as if to himself; you resist the shy smile that grows upon your lips, looking away from the contents of the bowl and shaking your head gently. He does not seem prepared to leave it be, though: “I scarcely know how I came to deserve someone as wonderful as you.” 

He prefers it like this, you’ve learned; kindness, candor, sweet admissions - flushed cheeks, soft smiles. A true marriage, one being built with respect, with love. And still, moons after your union - every compliment you pay your husband he seems to return tenfold. 

It is content, quiet against the spitting of embers in the hearth as you bend before him, seeking an angle safe enough to press the blade to his skin. A soft conversation, scarcely more than whispers in the eve - though you become weary at the prospect of a safe approach. 

His legs spread wide as he watches you pace - expression somewhere between an amusement and puzzle; You let out a breath in a small huff as you draw a decision.

Your hand falls first onto his shoulder - a steadying grip as you slowly slide onto his lap, positioning yourself to see his face clearly; Jacaerys, with eyes widened in surprise and arms instinctively rising to hold you steady. Despite his injuries, his touch is firm, wrists pressing to you where hands cannot. 

A thick swallow within his throat that you steadfastly ignore. 

The touch of his arms around you, of your thighs straddling his lap - you burn, clearing your throat. Your voice comes, barely more than a breath. "Is this- alright?"

His lips, parted with the proximity, flutter before he finds words. “Y-yes. More than alright.”

With a small grin, you school yourself; pouring the oils upon your palms, you begin to smooth the ointment upon his skin. Cheeks, down the short shadow of stubble he has so resigned to eliminate this evening. A sharp jaw, a strong chin, plush lips. His breath is scarcely more than puffs against your cheeks as you press gently into his jaw muscle; his eyelashes flutter closed. 

When you bring the blade to his skin, it is with no hesitation he tilts his head for you; eyeing you through lids, the apple of his cheeks warm in the light. You release a short breath and begin to shave him with slow, careful strokes. Jacaerys remains still, his eyes fixed - you drag the blade with light pressure, a relief building in you as you begin to effectively remove shadows from his cheek. 

As you continue, the room grows quiet; a soft song of the gentle scrape of the blade and the crackling of the fire. Your heart may have fluttered ceaselessly had you been any less focused on ensuring you do not hurt him; Though there is no doubt - a very handsome man he is, and a very lucky wife he makes you. 

“How did you learn such a skill?” His voice, curious as you tilt his jaw slightly. You do not pull your eyes from your task as you hum gently, aware of his warm stare.

“I’ve never done it before,” you admit, tilting your head along with him, focused on the glide of the blade against the bristled shadow of his jaw. “Though I watched my lord father do it many times. He’d often have me sing to my younger brothers before they were put to chamber - he tended to perform tasks as such when I did so. They used to love watching him.”

Jace nods contentedly, humming at your recount. "Lucerys used to watch me when he was younger, as well.” It seems at the memory he laughs gently - the motion stunted as you hold his face in your grip. “One day he decided he was old enough to give it a try. He sneaked into my chambers and took up my razor."

You can't help but smile at the image, lifting a brow. "And what came of it?"

You sit back, preoccupied with the story - your hand wipes the blade upon the rag beside you, meeting his warm gaze as his grin widens. "I found him standing before the mirror, razor in hand.” A flicker of his gaze to the mirror behind you before he finds you once more. “I tried to warn him, but he was too stubborn to heed me. So, I stood back and simply watched."

Your eyes widen, lips parting in mild amusement. "You let him to do it alone?"

He chuckles lightly, tongue prodding his lower lip. "I thought it best he learn a lesson.” His arms unconsciously pull you closer, readjusting your position upon his lap. You swallow down the warmth at such casual intimacy between he and you. “He managed a few strokes, was quite proud of himself, until... he nicked his lip." A small gesture with his jaw towards your own, his eyes focused on the bottom lip that has found itself caught between your teeth. 

You lift your brows, your hand pausing as it rinses the blade in water. "Was he quite hurt?"

"No, just a small cut," Jacaerys soothes, laughter bubbling up again, eyes tearing from your lips up to your own warm gaze; your stomach flutters at the sound and you can no longer suppress a small giggle of your own. "But the look on his face! He was so indignant, I reckon more in his failure than the pain. He turned to me, lip trembling, and demanded to know why I hadn't helped him."

You swat his shoulder gently with the rag, trying to suppress your own laughter. "You are incorrigible, Jace. You laugh at your brother's misfortune?" You chide, teasing; He shrugs, still grinning as his eyes trace over your face warmly. 

"It was a valuable lesson, one I had to learn myself once. Besides, he forgave me soon enough. I helped him finish shaving properly and patched him up. We've laughed about it many times since." His voice is soft against the crackle of flame, adjusting his posture slightly under your weight.

You laugh gently, the image of a young Jace and Luke pulling a grin to your lips. "You two are quite the pair."

Jacaerys’ eyes soften as he hums in agreement. "I have to let him make a fool of himself now and then." 

He’s taken to moving a stray thumb - one not restricted with salves nor gauze - upon the line of your spine. A gentle ghost of affection as you shake your head fondly at him. 

You hum, resuming your efforts, now moving towards his chin with a gentle grasp. "Well, just be glad I am here to ensure you do not cut yourself again. I should not trust you alone with a razor any longer." You tease, wrinkling your nose as you fix him with a faux stern stare. 

Jace’s laugh is rich, warm. "You wound me, wife.”

The gentle laughter between you trails off amiably as you move your focus upon his upper lip; you, dutifully focused, worried of your own skills, knowing you could very easily slip and cut him - he, enduring your hand around his chin, eyes ceaseless upon your face as you move him how you please. 

You finish the last stroke, setting the blade aside; his eyes are pools; sunlit amber. The cloth is wettened - you string it out and gently press it to his skin, wiping away the remnants of shaving oil and the small trail of blood from his previous nick. 

Jace’s breaths rise and fall languidly with your own in the quiet of the chamber. Your movements are slow, tender; your focus entirely on him, ignoring the heat growing in your abdomen, his muscles flexing beneath you. A shift in the calm of the room; a once placated, gentle silence has grown into a thick, tense quiet - enunciated through short puffs of breath and the slow shifting of your bodies as you clean him.

A lean closer, his finger idly trailing your hip as much as the bandage might permit - you inspect his soft skin, the scent of the oils clouding your mind; lavender, cedar, sandalwood. Incense sticks have lost ember in the corner, the ocean rolling in tides upon the distant shores. You find no missed stubble, only undeniable affection in his eyes; you’ve begun to trace the cloth rather idly along his cheek, eyes rising to find his own gaze stuck upon your lips. Echoes of a house attendant walking out in the halls.

“Done,” You whisper, making no effort to rise from his lap; the warmth that has only grown has begun to make you sweat, that desire, still so new, growing between you. He shifts beneath you, staring blatantly, speaking no words. Worry flickers - a foolish thing, to worry when you’re with him - yet you still murmur your words. "Have I overstepped?” you ask softly, gaze flickering down to his plush, parted lips, watching as he shakes his head vehemently.

"Never," he breathes, "I’m merely admiring your beauty."

Heat. Jacaerys has never, not even in the earliest days of your betrothal, hesitated to praise you for your beauty, intelligence, wit, or heart; yet it still sets your mind dizzy each time. You send him a coy smile, hiding the flush of your cheeks under his compliment, “You only say such things because of the blade in my hand,” You tease. 

Expecting a retort from your sharp husband, your eyes flicker to his; he grins at your jest, whispering, “I would speak such words even if you held nothing but air.” 

His gaze roves over the heat of your cheeks, the flutter of your lashes. Want grows hot within you; to be seen, to be so cherished, it is more than you could wish. Jacaerys stirs your heart like no other could. You do not miss when he leans forward slightly, into your own space; the longing in his gaze is rather unmistakable, and it sends a rush of thrill through you. 

Heart, singing in your chest. “Jace.” you whisper.

He breathes your name in response; a prayer. 

“What are you thinking?” You hum, your breath hitting his own; your hands fall to grasp his shoulders, fingers trailing over the crook of his neck, the ties of his tunic. 

 "I'm thinking," His hands, despite their bandages, pull your hips upon his own quite subtly - your stuttered breath, shaky at the feeling of him beneath you, arousal growing just as your own. His voice is husky, "-that I’d like to kiss you."

 A thrill in your stomach; you purse your lips against a smile of affection before closing the distance, your lips meeting his. 

Warm, soft; gentle as he always is with you - but soon in the undercurrent of the late hour, of the thin material upon your frame, you feel fever infect you. 

It comes in a tilt, sliding your nose against his own, lust coiling between your thighs; any tension of before melts, soon replaced by an urgent need to be closer. Your tongue finds the plush of his lower lip, sliding hungrily. 

He groans softly against your mouth, his injured hands pulling you tight; The faint smell of incense, an intensity of desire matching your own - your hands tangle in his hair.

A wince as you shift, his hand flexing and drawing a grunt of pain from his lips. 

You pull back instantly. 

"Jace," you murmur in concern, even as his lips chase your own, a small bridge of saliva between you two in the firelight. Your voice is breathless, filled with longing. "We shouldn't. Your hands."

He shakes his head, his lips seeking yours. "I care not," he whispers fiercely. "If you cease for my sake, I will perish."

Your eyes roll at his dramatics, though your heart flutters at such fervent words. The desire in his eyes is undeniable, and you are finding it harder to resist such pretty requests. "I do not wish to hurt you," you protest softly, though your resolve weakens with each passing moment.

He gazes at you with a mixture of tenderness and longing. “You could never hurt me. Please, let me feel you. The only pain I feel is the distance between us.”

Unbelievable, his cunning knack for dramatics.

Despite the lifted brow you send him, there is an undeniable tremor within you, your hunger growing at the lilt of his tone. Perhaps, you should feel some kind of shyness; Indeed, you’re still learning of each other. You’ve lain with Jacaerys only a few times since being wed last moon—and yet perched so firmly atop his growing arousal, you can’t help the rush of need.

“Well,” You sigh, hand gracing his soft cheek with a small look of pride, “You mustn’t beg.”

He breathes as a smirk of his own grows, “I am a prince, dōna riña. Begging is beneath me.” He murmurs, eyes aflame with that teasing craving, “but I'd gladly beg if it means I get to have you.” 

His ravenous words, mere kindle to the flame. “It is fortunate for you that I am so generous, then,” you murmur, seeking the warmth of his lips once more. He hums in agreement; a reverberation in his chest below your palms stirring a shiver through you. “Fortunate indeed,” he breathes. “Now please do not torture me any longer.” 

You pull away from his searching lips just so, watching as he chases the warmth of your breath. "If you insist," you whisper, your lips brushing against his. His breath is sharp - he dislikes being so teased when he cannot deliver it in return. "I do insist.” he murmurs, words swallowed by the surge of him, teeth and noses clashing as you exhale, stomach flipping. 

His tongue, sliding into your mouth; eager, you part lips for him. The chamber fades into shadows, a dim glow as the witness to your ardor, the only thing to hear such soft sighs and groans from you and Jacaerys. His lips leave you rather soon, peppering kisses upon the flushed skin of your neck. 

A glance behind his shoulder as you cast your neck to the side - flickering shadows, intertwined with each other in a rather sensual embrace upon the wall; Jace’s nose pressed to the heartbeat of your throat as he bites gently against your skin. 

His lips are fervent - the warmth of his breath, his chest heaving below your palms, the scent of his shaving oils - a fierce wildfire within you, consuming every thought but the touch of his body against your own.

An urge, the light pressure of his wrists, desperate to move you upon him - and then his voice, a growl. "Feel me," he breathes against your throat, pulling back so slightly to catch your gaze as his hands, light but insistent, press upon your waist. 

You respond to his urging without a thought; your hips instinctively shifting, meeting the rise of his form with an eager press. The sensation is both thrilling and intoxicating - his moan of pleasure only spurs you on, a shiver of ecstasy as you press just so upon the sensitive of your heat. 

The space between you is gone, the touch of his hands guiding your movements lightly, encouraging your slow rolling hips. The air is thick with the mingled scents of desire and embers low - you, lost in a sea of sensation. His breaths grow ragged, the intensity of his gaze never wavering as he watches you with a look of utter devotion. "Yes," he murmurs, his voice nearly breaking, "-like that, gods - let me feel every bit of you." 

At such words, your cheeks heat vividly - you surrender to the heat of the moment, your movements growing more urgent, more desperate. His breaths are hot against your cheek as you let out a small moan, toes curling as you rove your hips, chasing the heat of pleasure. 

Your movements become more frantic with each passing moment, the need to be close to him overwhelming your senses. His heart, beating as wild as a beast against your own chest; Your head grows dizzy with need, a small noise from the back of your throat as his wrists coax your hips against him. 

“Jace,” Your breath comes in puffs, cheeks hot with the incessant need to feel him within you. “I need you.” 

He hums against your mouth, tantalizing as he tilts his head, “I had not noticed.” 

So cocky; you sigh, hips ceasing slightly, hands trailing over the fabric of his night shirt, feeling the warmth of his lean muscles beneath your palms. “You tease me.” You pout; he kisses the expression away with a small grin. You insist in the absence of a response, “You are cruel, to make it so hard for me to remain composed.” His arms pull you by the small of your back in an embrace - shivers over you as you feel his hard arousal drag along the heat of your aching cunt between too many layers of clothing. 

“I would have you mad with desire, if it means knowing you are as consumed by me as I am by you.” He mutters into the shell of your ear. Your cheeks, constantly heating under his words, so effortlessly setting you afire. 

You pull back enough to trail your lips over his jaw, dropping to press a soft bite upon the skin of his neck; savoring the soft noise, near whimper, from his lips. “You speak as though you haven’t already driven me mad,” You murmur into his skin, “Though I pay it willingly; I would have it no other way.”

To wait any longer would be torture; your hands, hungry and insistent, begin to gather the skirt of your sleep gown - Jace, watching with desire burning heavy in his eyes, hands lying uselessly - the glint of frustration in his gaze is not missed; though you know he wishes to touch you, you revel in the scarce opportunity to take care of him as he does you. 

A soft smile plays upon your lips as you look into his fervent eyes, feeling the heat of his desire merge with your own; Slipping beneath his trousers, you let your fingers graze his skin just enough to drive him wild; deliberate, as slow as his own fingers often are when he finds himself between your thighs. 

His cock is heavy upon your palm; your thighs, trembling with need as you place a few languid pumps upon him. His head, falling back, hands unable to truly grasp your hips - a groan, uninhibited as his brows knit together. “You’re a vision, my love.”

The endearment sends your hips in a short buck - grinding upon his cock, your arousal finds his own; a choked moan from yourself, falling forward to his chest. Laborious sliding of your hips over his own, spreading your need and coating his cock with your desire. Fingers, twitching against your spine - your own threading through his hair. Breaths together, short huffs and unsteady inhales as you finally guide yourself to the tip of his cock. 

“Are you-” His swallow is thick, “Are you sure, love?” He has the gall to question you after such excruciating a wait - though as you stare into his eyes, a flicker, a fleeting observation; He has always taken more than enough time to prepare you to take him; it is no lie that he is rather blessed by the Father - Such memories heat your cheeks. And though you know it may sting, it does not matter to you; You would certainly welcome the sensation. You stir your hips, biting back a noise at the jolt of your sensitive clit against his cock. “Yes, Jace. And you?” You question. An insistent nod, a short groan - "Gods, yes- stop teasing me," he near whines. You conceal a small chuckle of amusement, pressing your lips soundly against him.  

And you sink onto him slowly, eyes screwing shut at the sensation - he, with a low groan, head lolling back to expose the long stretch of his neck. A sharp exhale as you lower yourself, heart slamming as you’re filled; a sating desire within you, growing as you find yourself adjusting to him. 

When you find yourself fully speared upon your husband, you let out a shuttering whimper; his fingers twitch where they lie, pupils blown wide as he gazes upon you. Your lips find his once more in hunger, whispers of moans swallowed, tongue warm as it slides into his mouth. He tastes of the anise candies he favors; a hint of wine, cherry and dark. 

He remains, hips static as you breathe through the sensation of being full of him. His lips are fervent, though any wild need to feel you around him tamped momentarily by his concern for your own comfort and pleasure. 

A distant rove of waves upon a shoreline; the memory of Jacaerys, flushed and wide-eyed the first time you shared his bed. You slowly grow accustomed to his size, the hunger boiling within you as you slowly shift, growing restless. 

And slowly, experimentally - Jacaerys’ hips push slightly up against yours. You stir at the sensation, his cock pressing a spot deep within you - a keening gasp against him, swallowing his short moan with your lips. A slow lift of your hips, feeling him press against you - your eyes flutter shut once more as a flooding of pleasure courses through you, liquid fire within your veins. 

“Gods, my love-” He nearly chokes, “J-just like that-” 

Your small gasp as you begin to rock against his pelvis, cock stirring and pressing deliciously against the deepest part of you; upon shaky legs you rise, gently allowing his cock to drag out of your hungered cunt. “Jace,” Your voice is whiny, breathless - unsure what you plan on saying otherwise, your hands slide into the curly locks, tugging gently. He is rendered unable to speak, mouth open before moving to lick the slight salt from your skin. 

A flush has grown upon your chest; your husband’s lips have found your breasts, peppering bites and lingering upon a spot just under your neckline, his groans reverberating within your skin. Steadying yourself upon him, you find a rhythm - his cock reaching the deepest parts of you, your head tilting back in true satisfaction, a heat coiling within your gut. 

And his lips, ceasing only when your fingers tug at his curls; a curve in his own spine, head falling back against the back of the chair with a groan of pleasure. Heat curls and coils, lit afire by Jacaerys and the feeling of him reaching deep within you. 

“Jace, you’re so deep-” You whisper, toes curling with the sounds of your shared desire echoing in the chamber softly. He lets out a small noise at your words, a smattering of pink across his cheeks; cock twitching with desire within you. 

The hunger calls you. Without further consideration, you snake a hand between you, down to the heat of your cunt taking him, fingers shaking as you seek your yearning bundle of nerves; His eyes, lidded as he watches you. Jacaerys, in his endless pursuit to ensure your pleasures, has always provided his fingers or tongue to bring you closer to finish - though with him injured below you, you do not mind picking up such slack yourself. 

Especially when it brings such deeply melodic sounds of need to his lips. Despite his arousal at your actions, your hand shies away - knowing whatever extension of pleasure you wish to give yourself will be no match for how he so often touches you. Your grip rises instead to steady yourself upon his shoulders, spearing yourself onto him in languid thrusts, ecstasy climbing within you like the wild of fire. 

“Look at you, ābrazȳrys.” He mutters, pupils blown in pleasure, hips canting to meet yours. Though you speak not the language, you are familiar with such a word: wife. A shudder of pleasure at his ancient tongue - of which he has whispered many words to you, most unknown.

He, the picture of the gods below you, letting out a sharp exhale in his own pleasure. His lips, slick and bright, mutter your name - at the summon your gaze finds his own, molten and hungry as your hips move together, the feeling of his cock twitching within you, reaching a spot that has your back keening.

“I’m c-close.” He whispers, a heat upon his cheeks - embarrassment, perhaps, at his eagerness. His eyes find you; you’re met with that dark gaze, regally commanding as he speaks. “Gaomagon ziry. Touch yourself, love, I want to feel you.”  

Gods save you. 

Just as your husband wishes, you drop your fingers once more with no hesitation, jolting. You do not slow your pace; thighs burning, you keen forward, whispering his name against the pulse of his throat, groaning as your fingers press further, tight circles that bring shudders of pleasure. 

“Jaesa, so pretty. Renigon aōla.” Jacaerys’ brows, knitted upwards in gratification; voice, leaking of desperation, of some kind of adulation. He quite often slips into that frantic tongue - the rush of pleasure, of ecstasy, his sharp mind rendered unable to decipher the common from the ancient tongue. You do not know the delicious words that fall from his lips, yet it does not matter - they spur you closer still towards completion. 

“Jace, I’m close,” You hiss, teeth clenched in desire; your hips, dropping upon him slower, deeper; his arms pull you closer with a groan, lips falling to nip small marks into the smooth of your neck. A moan, unbidden from his sweet lips, “Do not stop, please-” he wishes, and who are you to deny such pretty begging? 

When you hit your high of ecstasy, it is with a muffled moan of his name; into the thin linen of his tunic, legs slowing as you roll through pleasure, spasming gently around your husband. His own, quiet moan into your hair, wrists pulling you into him as he whispers, “Yes, ñuha sȳz byka ābrazȳrys, fuck-” 

A thrill within you as you ride your high, such vulgar of a word from your husband; and all, your doing. A frantic whimper from your lips into his throat as he bucks his hips up into you, chasing his own high with a soft whimper. “You feel so good, Jacaerys.” You keen, raising to his face as you feel his abdominal muscles tense beneath you; pressing your forehead to his own, you ride through your completion, heavy breaths upon each other.

Noses sliding against his, you drink his small groans, holding him close; a ghost of his lips against yours, a nip of your lip by his teeth. Long lashes fluttering, Jace finds his own high. He releases his seed into you; you feel him, his hips thrusting up into you weakly as the warmth of him spreads within you. His breath, hot against your cheek, lips chasing yours as you pull away slightly, the slight shift in position sending you both in a harmony of whimpers at the sensitivity. 

The chamber’s hearth spits and crackles; an ember lands near the floor beside the chair. It smolders out, fading slowly into darkness against the stone as you rest your cheek against Jacaerys’ chest, pleased by his gentle kisses upon your hairline.

After moments of silence, basking in your shared pleasure, you press a kiss to his chest. “Are you alright?” He asks gently, soothing over your spine with the soft of his forearms. 

You let out a shaky sigh of satisfaction as you pull back, feeling his cock within you - a fleeting thought; you hope his seed takes. He watches you, eyes warm and gentle as a shaky finger, curled in pain, wipes a stray strand of hair from your forehead - you nod, lifting your hand thumb away the bead of blood that has appeared once more on his cheek; “Yes. And you?” You wonder, pressing a kiss to the freckle upon his lip. 

His smile is the kind that makes your heart skip beats. “Always.” 

translations; dōna riña - sweet girl

ābrazȳrys - wife

Gaomagon ziry - do it

Jaesa - goddess, holy/divine woman

Renigon aōla - touch yourself

ñuha sȳz byka ābrazȳrys - my good little wife

taglist: @bitchydragonparadisee @lukehughes43 @rhea-ripley @jottositto @chloe-petrichors @elaena-aerrin @smurfelle @greenvita @alyssa-dayne

[jakescakeislateforourdate]

Hey girly!! Im too shy to ask this without the anonymous filter but first of all I’ve been reading through your blog and I love it honestly. I was wondering if you are open to requests if you’d be able to write up something about joe rantz (I am absolutely LIVING for blonde callum) and maybe a coaches daughter trope? he saw her when he went to sign himself up, at the practices all that jazz and just them like becoming friends then more than friends, the boat scene where he gets his seat taken away from him maybe? thank you so much and again I love your work! xx

Hello, my lovely anon. Glad to see you in my inbox. I apologize for the wait but I've been coming out of an awful slump and I was trying to make this piece not total garbage. I hope you enjoy it and I hope I see you in my inbox again.

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

Joe Rantz (Callum Turner’s) x reader

wc: 4,600

Joe finds himself utterly gobsmacked when he discovers that the pretty face he’s seen at the shell house is the coach’s daughter and not his wife.

Enjoy this garbage!

…

Joe Rantz had come to the shell house in search of work. He’d hoped that making the team would cover his tuition and get him a room and he needed it so desperately. Roger Morris stood next to him, chewing nervously at his nails. “Sorry, Joe, didn’t realize competition would be so tight.” He mutters, spitting out a shred of his fingernail. Coach Ulbrickson was going over the basics of practice. It sounded like absolute hell to Joe but he was out of options. He fidgeted with the number painted on his jersey. Sure, he was strong from a lifetime of rough labor but so were the other boys. Most of them were broke too and just as desperate. Joe didn’t know if he had what it took to stand out but he’d be damned if he couldn’t make a life for himself because he couldn’t muscle up some money for college. 

As Ulbrickson speaks, a shadow appears in his office window. It’s too far for Joe’s nervous gaze to actually study the figure. He tries to focus on coach but the shadow continues to draw his attention. Roger notices too. “Who the hell is that?” Joe just shrugs. The shadow never leaves the window even as Ulbrickson finishes up and the boys get split up. Joe can’t dwell on the figure any longer because he’s being herded into the middle of shellhouse. He begins a horrible set of workouts. His body is made for hard work but he’s never actually worked out before. His muscles aren’t used to straining this way. 

It’s not long before his breathing becomes labored and sweat is pouring down his back. His curls hang down his forehead, sticking to his skin uncomfortably. And just when the pain is becoming unbearable the coaches are swapping them out and Joe is put on a junky old boat and an oar is pushed into his hands. They start rowing and instantly, the only thing on Joe’s mind is how bad his back hurts. Pained grunts and groans echo across the water as the boys struggle to keep pulling the oars. 

Eventually, it’s all over. Joe stumbles onto the dock in front of the shellhouse and feels his knees shaking with excursion. Men begin to drain away from the shellhouse and as the numbers dwindle, the shadow in the window of Ulbrickson’s office reappears. It moves through the glass panes like a swan through water. Then the office door opens and Joe sees your face for the first time. 

“That was some tough practice, huh?” Roger bumps Joe’s shoulder, a crooked smile on his face. Joe cannot respond and Roger follows his gaze. “Washington, Washington, what finery you enjoy.” 

You descend the steps and take a place between Ulbrickson and Bolles. Ulbrickson puts and arm around and Joe feels his heart wither a little. You’re probably Mrs. Ulbrickson. Though he can’t shake the impression that you look a little too young to be with Ulbrickson. 

“Alas,” Roger throws up his hands, “Finery we cannot also enjoy.”

“Don’t be crass.”

“I’m not! How was that crass?” Roger purses his lips and nudges Joe. 

Joe just buttons up his jacket and picks up his books, “C’mon, let’s get outta here.”

The very next day, Joe is suffering through practice. He aches all over and his muscles scream at him. He’s already shaking when he gets done with the basic strength building exercises. Most of the boys are. There are fewer numbers today but this does not better Joe’s odds by much. They clamber into Old Nero and start rowing away. His wrists twinge and his knees spasm. He rows and rows until he thinks his body will give out and then Ulbrickson is directing them back to the shellhouse. Jow crawls out of the boat, soaked to the bone and stiff as a board.

Then he sees you again, this time your sorting registry papers with Pocock. Your back is turned to him, so you don’t notice his longing stare. He keeps telling himself that you’re a married lady and that he should be focused on making the team, but nothing seems to chase you from his mind. 

Coach Ulbrickson sweeps across the dock and places a hand on top of your head, an odd gesture between husband and wife but Joe wouldn’t know about those things. Since his group was the last to use Old Nero, they get the privilege of stowing the oars. Joe begins unlatching the mechanism when he shifts on his knees.

It happens so fast he can’t clock what’s happening. First there’s the sensation of slipping, the horrible thrust of his legs flying out from beneath him. He twists mid slip, and his side smacks the dock painfully before he’s swept off the dock by his own weight. He plumets into the cold water with a catastrophic splash and agonized shriek.

When Joe resurfaces a dozen hands are reaching for him. He grasps onto George Hunt’s forearm and allows Shorty to hoist him onto the sodden wood planks. A fluffy white towel is draped around his shoulders; firm hands rub his chilled biceps. “Are you alright?” You face appears before him.

Joe is almost too stunned to speak, “I—yeah, yeah I’m okay.” 

You tuck the ends of the towel into his hands, “Better get showered up and dressed.” Joe just nods and stumbles past you and into the locker room. Roger follows closely behind, teasing Joe relentlessly.

“You’re fallin’ harder than I thought.”

“Roger!” Joe grinds his teeth, huffing and puffing. “You need better jokes.”

Joe spends that night struggling to focus on his schoolwork. He has math homework that needs doing. He has books to read. The one in his hands now periodically goes in and out of focus as Joe’s mind wanders. On the page is the story of a western novel, a man had found a girl walking alone the road at dusk, all on her own. He didn’t want to leave her to the coyotes, so he offered her a ride into the nearest town. They were riding horseback across the prairie. Her arms wound tightly around him; her hands splayed over his chest. 

Her hands—

Her hands—

What is wrong with you, Joe?

Joe reads this line over and over again. Each time he nears the end his brain short circuits and all he can think about are your hands on your shoulders. You hadn’t even really touched him, at least not his skin.  Yet the only thing shooting through his neurons are the sensations of your fingers along his skin. That imaginary touch he can conjure up so perfectly. He eventually gives in and skips down a few paragraphs. He reads late into the night and the phantom touches are still nagging his senses when he closes the book and rolls over to sleep. 

…

Day after day, Joe sees you at practice. You congratulate him when he makes the team and help him with his technique every once and a while. “Roll your wrists just a bit more.” Your fingers would poke at his forearms and direct him in graceful strokes. It fries his brain. You give pointers to the rest of the team too, working closely with Bolles and Pocock to get them in racing shape. It’s not long into the season when Ulbrickson decides to switch coxswains. 

“This is Bobby Moch. Your new jockey.” Bolles announces one day. Bobby is short and slender and sharp tongued.  The second he climbs in the boat and starts barking out commands, Joe is flabbergasted. Who is Bobby to talk to the team this way? But they all find themselves obeying his every word. What really irks Joe about Bobby is how friendly he is with you. You exchange jokes and poke fun at each other. Joe tells himself that he just thinks it’s inappropriate to flirt with the coach’s wife but beneath it all he’s incredibly jealous that Bobby can make you laugh so easily. It makes Joe pine for attention in a way that he never has before. 

The day of their race against California, Joe is all jitters and nerves. He bounces on the balls of his feet and shakes his hands, trying to loosen the anxiety. Streamers and garlands of flags decorate the locker room and the campus. People have gathered in clusters along the course and wave flags of purple and gold. The smell of popcorn and peanuts permeates the air and Joe promises to indulge himself if they win.

As the crew carried their shell down to the water, they begin chanting to themselves. “Bow down to Washington!” They neglect the varsity’s jeers and clip their oars into position. They spot Coach Ulbrickson in the stands, you at his side. And then there’s another woman. And Ulbrickson hugs her. And then he kisses her.

Right in front of you! What is going on?

“Rantz! Eyes on me!” Bobby hollers. But Joe can’t help stealing another confused glance. “I said quite drooling over coach’s daughter and LOOK AT ME!”

Joe feels like an idiot. He puts his head down in shame and tightens his grip on the oar. Ulbrickson joins them on the dock and gives one of his famously encouraging speeches. Joe is only half paying attention. They push off and are left with lovely Bobby hyping them up while they wait for the race to start. They lean forward, like a bow drawn for a shot. And then the white flag flies and the boats shoot away from the docks.

There’s nothing but blur as Joe rows. He can only focus on the muscled shoulders of Don Hume in the stroke seat as Bobby screams at them. “28!”

About halfway through the course, Bobby demands the stroke rate be upped and Don performs. The shell lurches forward, eating up the distance between Washington and Cal until the JV boat surpasses the Berkeley blokes. Then the boat is cutting across the finish line, a clean win. Adrenaline rushes Joe’s veins. He throws his fists in the air as the team splashes and roars. They’re inevitably drowned out by the crowd who bursts up in a shower of peanuts and Washington flags. 

Coach Ulbrickson, the new woman Joe assumes his Ulbrickson’s wife, and you rush the dock as the boys climb out of the boat. “Excellent job.” Mrs. Ulbrickson shakes their hands as they unclip their oars. Bolles is compassionate enough to give them each a pat on the back as they hoist the boat over their heads and haul it off. 

Joe can’t help but notice the copious amounts of onlookers pooling around the shell as they carry it back to the shellhouse. They set it down on the stands and before they can even take their hands off the shell, they are bombarded by Washington fans. Girls reaching out to stroke their biceps or kiss their cheeks. Joe has never received attention like this once in his life. He’s as polite as possible, brushing off a few girls here and there and shaking the hand of the occasional fellow. Shorty has accumulated a few lipstick stains on his cheek. Don Hume is blushing from the tips of his ears down to the point of his freckled nose. Chuck and Roger accept a few hugs. They bask in the winners’ glory for only a few moments until the varsity team strolls by. They make a comment to Moch that Joe doesn’t catch but judging by the way Bobby’s shoulders square he can make obvious conclusions.

“You rowed so well today, Joe.” He hears your voice, and his palms start to sweat.

“Thanks, I uh—” It occurs to him that he doesn’t actually know a thing about you. “Sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten your name.” You smile at him, and syllables fall out but the crowd is too loud. “What?” Your grasp his shoulder and lean in, the sound of your name echoes off the shell of his ear. 

When you pull away, you’re still smiling but before Joe can ask you another question, Bobby is buzzing by with a play-by-play of exactly what happened in Bobby’s world. 

You shade your eyes and peer down at the docks, “Looks like dad is almost done with the varsity. I should get down there.” You say, and Bobby turns around to talk to Shorty. “Hey. Will I see you at the party tonight?” Your hand rests on Joe’s shoulder. He prays you can’t feel his heart skip a beat. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Good. You had better save a dance for me, Joe Rantz.”

You leave him breathless, the butterflies in his stomach so vicious that he shudders. He watches you disappear down the pathway to the dock and his heart starts hammering with anticipation. You want to dance with him. You want to touch his hands, touch him. And then he remembers that you already did that, he was too focused on the motion of your lips that he’d hardly registered the sensation of your hands on his arm. Damn! What had it felt like? He’d remembered it’d made him flabbergasted and choked his speech but he couldn’t remember how the grooves in your palm felt as they brushed over his skin. The warmth of your fingertips. He curses himself out and vanishes into the locker room to get changed.

…

The dance rolls around rather too quickly and Joe is swimming in nerves. He has to tie his tie twice because he messes up so badly, he can’t even draw it tight to his neck. Roger found out all too quickly and hasn’t let Joe catch a break.

“A date with coach’s daughter. Careful Joe, Ulbrickson might throw you off the team if he catches the wrong look in your eye.” 

“Shut up, Roger, I’m not greasy like you”

“Ouch, that hurts me.”

“Clearly not enough.” Joe hisses as he finally gets his tie right. 

“Feels like I’m a father about to send his kid off to prom.” 

Joe sighs and throws on his suit coat. “Oh, please—”

“Look at you fly, shooting out of your league.” 

Roger works a smile onto Joe’s face, and they set off for the party. Spring is finally warming the campus up from a brutal winter and a few couples mull around outside. Joe and Roger find their way into the crowded gymnasium, both shocked by just how loud it is. Joe can’t even hear his own thoughts. They spot the team almost immediately, clustered around tables, drinks in their hands. A few of the boys are dancing with some lovely dames, a few are leaned against the wall having close conversations. Don is sitting by himself on a bench a few feet away from the refreshment table, watching the dance floor. Joe is turning to follow Roger towards the other boys but an arm loops through his, “Thought you weren’t going to show.” You practically shout. 

Joe can’t help but grin as you capture his attention. “You weren’t joking.”

“Not a bit, Rantz, didn’t have any other dancing plans except for this one.”

“Guess I should make it worth your wait then.” Joe leads you into the thicket of bodies.

He prides himself on the laugh you let out, “please do,” you say as he takes your hands and spins to face you.  He places his hand high on your waist and cradles the other gently in his palm. He can feel the smooth plains of you hand against his. Each crease and each callous. His are no doubt unbelievably rough from the rowing and he would feel bad but right now all he can feel are your fingers lacing through his. “You’re not half bad.” You tease. Joe knows his cheeks are heating up to a flaming red. Probably his ears too. 

His hand migrates to the small of your back as the music changes into a soft slow song. “I’ll be completely honest,” he starts, “I had no idea you were the coach’s daughter.”

“Then who else would I be?” 

“I thought you were his wife.” He looks away sheepishly, but your laughter is so unrestrained and whole that Joe’s heart melts. You can’t stop laughing either and it’s contagious. 

“You’re an engineering student, right?” Your shoes brush as you sway with him. 

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Joyce.” Joe’s heart drops. In his infatuation he’d forgotten all about her. “She was trying to hit on you, but she figured out that your attention was elsewhere.”

“You too are good friends then?”

“Just since the start of the year. We have an English class together.” You and Joe talk for a while, it forces you to be close and neither of you care to separate. Eventually, you move outside and sit with sit with Joe on the steps of the gym. It’s still chilly out and you sit close to Joe which he doesn’t mind one bit. At some point your head rests on his shoulder and you close your eyes. Joe can do nothing but stare down at you, his mouth agape. 

“Why is your heart beating so fast?” You trace his knuckles with your pointer finger.

Joe’s head pounds, his mouth dry, “This has never happened to me before.”

“None of the girls from high school? Never?”

“Not one.”

You look up at Joe and reach to smooth back a blond curl. “Shame, they were missing out.” This makes Joe smile again and he’s immensely pleased with how easily you do that to him. Make him happy. He hasn’t felt like this since… he can’t remember when. Sure, he was happy when the team won but that was different. That was pride. So was making the team. This feels more affectionate, closer to the heart. He wonders if this is what love feels like but that would be silly; he’s only known your name for a day. He’s also never been flattered quite like this. Besides Joyce, he can’t think of anyone else who’s actually been interested in him. Certainly not one who compliments him the way you do. 

People start to drain out of the gym very slowly and Joe checks his watch. “So late already?”

“Guess I should get home; my dad will be wrought with worry.” You joke and straighten out your skirt. 

“Can I walk you home?”

“I would love that.”

Joe offers you his hand, “Where does coach live?” 

“Not too far.” You accept his calloused hand and direct him off campus. Surprisingly, Joe has read the book you’re reading for English and time flies as you discuss the book. Then Joe makes a sobering comment that makes you stop and study him. 

“His parents remind me of my own.”

Joe realizes what he’s let slip, “Don’t worry about it too much. I’m okay.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

Joe presses his lips into a line and stares down at his worn shoes. A wave of self-consciousness washes over him as he realizes how ragged of a life he has lived and just how much it shows. “Well—”

“Is this why you have a hard time trusting your team?”

“Hey now,”

“Sorry.” You take his hands.

He grimaces and squeezes your soft palms. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes.” 

Joe sighs and swipes a thumb across your knuckles. “My Pops just… left me one day. Told me I’d be fine on my own.” Joe gives you parts of the story. Mostly what he feels like stomaching at the moment.

When he’s finished you let go of his hands and cup his cheeks. He sinks into the touch, soaking it up like a flower budding in sunlight. You don’t say anything, you just look at him. You look at him like he’s the only thing that’s ever mattered and his heart trembles because he has never once known what it’s like to be that for someone else. And then you stand on tip toes and plant a hearty kiss on his forehead. “This is it actually,” you gesture behind you at the hosue that must be the Ulbricksons’. “I’ll see you tomorrow at practice?”

“Yeah.” The spot on his forehead that you kissed tingles. “Nowhere else I’d want to be.”

…

The Poughkeepsie Regatta rolls around all too quickly and Ulbrickson has to make a decision. The varsity boat who deserves it. Or the JV boat who could win it. His hands sweat as he stands on at that pulpit and reads off his preplanned speech. As he talks, he thinks about the future of the rowing program. The jobs it has provided him and Bolles. About how Pocock would have to find work elsewhere and it’d kill Al Ulbrickson to send him away. 

He leans into the mic and spits, “and that boat is our JV boat.” It has to be them. They have to win. Moans and groans blow his way as the crowd rejects his announcement. Regret washes over him but he cannot take this back. He has to be right about his crew. He tips his hat and hustles off the podium as the JV bursts into celebration. He has to be right.

…

Joe is more than pleased to see you on the train to Poughkeepsie. He slides into the car with you, and you chat away. You were fast friends the night of the dance and have since become closer. The kiss on the forehead still lingers sometimes, especially when Joe sees your lips form your smile. You entice him into some card games and eventually a game of chess. At some point, he decides that he needs to sleep and bids you goodnight so that he can find a train car to sleep in. But before he does, he sneaks a chaste kiss onto your knuckles. 

His good mood is stamped out the very next day when the team takes to the water. They don’t row good, and frustration starts to build. Bobby and the coaches try and get them working together, telling them that it’s just nerves and new water. But tensions rise regardless. The days start to dwindle, and the crew is getting worse and worse. 

Blame starts to turn to him, and Joe is at a loss. He doesn’t want to believe that he’s holding the team back, but he thinks back to what you said that night he walked you home. But the most awful feeling creeps over him, not an ounce of care. What’s wrong with him. This crew has been the only family he’s had in years. He needs them. But he can’t bring himself to admit it. 

Before he knows it, it slips and Ulbrickson is exiling him from the boat. As the crew watches Joe storm away, their spare crawls in and they set off for another row. Bolles taps you on the shoulder, “you had better see if you can do anything. Enlist Pocock if you have to.” Your father nods along.

You set out to find him, not that it was hard there’s not many places he can go alone. He’s stuffing his suitcase when you find him. “Don’t start.” He snaps. Then he sees your expression and his anger sours. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t—”

“Don’t give up on your team, Joe.”

“I’m not.”

“You are, you’re quitting and throwing everything you’ve worked for away.”

“Don’t, don’t even start to pretend you know me.” He realizes too late that he’s made everything so much worse and before he can fix a thing Pocock is at the door.

“I could use some help putting another coat of oil on the shell.”

You duck past Pocock and leave Joe with a painful pit of remorse in his stomach. He follows Pocock and takes the talking to straight to the heart. As he lathers on a thick coat of oil, he figures he can bargain with Ulbrickson in the morning, but he should make a proper apology to you now. He racks his brain for anything that would make it right, but he’s horrifically inexperienced and it’s crippling him now. He feels like a child having a tantrum. He feels miniscule and insignificant.

After Joe dunks his brush into the whale oil can for the last time, he figures he’d better just confront the issue head on since he has no way of handling it delicately. He has no grace and he’s sure you’re aware of this. Pocock gives him an encouraging pat and takes the can from him. Joe winds his way back to the hotel and through the halls. Your room is on the second floor, third door down. He knocks gently, eyes lingering on the hideous carpet and tacky sconces. The door swings open after a moment and Joe is met with your disapproving glower. His tongue seems to swell in his mouth so badly that he worries it’ll flop out when he tries to speak. 

“Coffee?” You ask when you realize he will stand there silently forever if you don’t let him in. 

“No… I just wanted to—to apologize.”

“Oh really.” Your eyebrow quirks.

Joe is fumbling for words. You stand aside and motion for him to step inside so you can have this discussion in privacy. “I know that was wrong to take out my frustration on you. That wasn’t fair and none of it is your fault.” He twiddles his thumbs. How does he go about this without absolutely butchering it? “I just—” As he trails off, he notices a hurt dullness in your eyes. He recognizes it as pity. “You and the crew are really all I’ve got, and I’m so scared I’m going to lose it.”

“These boys aren’t going to leave you behind unless you separate yourself from them like today.”

“I know.

“Really?”

“Pocock made sure I know.”

The edges of your lips tilt up. You pull him down onto the foot of the bed and take his hand. “Are you actually going to try and trust them?”

“Don’t have enough faith to put it in anyone else.”

You squeeze his hand and trace a finger along his jawline, sweeping a knuckle under his chin. You force his stubborn gaze to you and find nothing but desperation. Wanting things like this doesn’t come natural to Joe and it shows, but he’s not so different from the other boys in that boat. 

You reach up and fiddle with a curl, “apology accepted.” Tears pool in the corners of his eyes and he tries to choke them down. You place a hand on his chest and rest your forehead on his. His breath fans over your cheeks. The tip of his nose brushes yours. His shoulders sag inwards and he reaches for your waist. 

“Can I—may I kiss you?”

Joe’s sweetness never fails to amaze you. You cradle his face and bring him closer. “Yes, Joe.” His breath hitches and his lips finally meet yours for the very first time. He’s gentle but generous and lets you kiss him for as long as you like. His arms wrap around you fully and hold you to his chest. He gets the feeling that he’ll be craving these moments all the time now, finally understanding what Roger and Chuck rave about. He’s hooked on your lips and your weight against him and when you pull away it breaks his heart. 

“You should get cleaned up before you talk to my father, you smell like whale oil.”

...

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading this. If you'd like to request, feel free to do so. I always love you in my inbox. I hope you enjoyed this fic and if you like it please check out my masterlist for more. Have nice day.

-the author

[minhosimthings]

D!ck

Symphony Smut Series Day 3: Doja Cat and Starbo3's D!ck

Lyric: She actin like an addict

Pairings: Husband!Sunoo × fem!wife!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, pheromone usage, p in v, oral (f receiving), dom!Sunoo, sub!reader, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, spitting, sort of a breeding kink, brat reader, swearing, french kisses

A/N: and day 3 has come! I loved writing for Sunoo, cause I've never written for him before and also CAUSE HE'S MY AGE YAAAS. So have some pheromones even though Sunoo doest need those for me to cling onto him

THE SYMPHONY SMUT SERIES MASTERLIST

Buisness trips. So boring weren't they? For the wife of a man who was constantly on them, it was even more so.

"Sunoo another party today?" You're sighed, falling back on the bed as your husband laughed and adjusted his tie in the mirror.

"Im sorry darling, but I've got to attend." Sunoo fixed his hair, carefully combing down a cowlick, "Would you like to come too? You know that blue dress has been laying idle in your cupboard for a long time."

"It's turquoise, Sun." You grumbled, getting up and giving a quick kiss to your husband, before fumbling with his tie, "I'll wear it, only if you agree to give me what I want tonight."

Sunoo chuckled and leaned closer, basically pinning you against the wall, before going in for a deep kiss. His tongue collided with yours painfully, giving you the taste of something you've been wanting to devour for weeks.

"Ngh- Sun" you wanted him to eat you out right there and then.

"Tch tch impatient aren't you?" Sunoo chuckled. You could feel his erection press against your sweatpants, rubbing arousal into you.

"Tonight sunshine." Sunoo caressed your cheek, "I promise. Tonight after the party. Get all pretty for me alright?"

The night was coming too slow for you. All throughout the day, you did nothing but laze around, annoy the cook into teaching you how to make lasagna, failing at making said lasagna, and then speed running a Pokemon game.

But the real treasure of the day were the few minutes before you were getting ready.

Patting down the creases of your perfectly ironed dress, you admired yourself in the mirror, doing a little spin for yourself, and watching as the fabric perfectly spun like a Disney scene. The pearls on your neck stood out too, with their gliterry sheen and the gold embossments.

Reaching into your perfume drawer, you spotted a green coloured tube, which was labelled 'Oil perfume'.

You chuckled at that. Oil perfume, your ass. That, you were certain, was the 'special' perfume Sunoo has gotten you from Italy.

Chuckling like a villain to yourself, you took the greasy substance from the tube and applied it to your neck and wrists, where you knew Sunoo would kiss you, inhaling the intoxicating perfumes of the pheromone, and maybe he'd give you your cake earlier than before.

"Darling, you look stunning." Sunoo greeted you, as you stepped out of your room into the hallway.

"Thank you Sun." You giggled, promptly lifting your wrists up for Sunoo to kiss.

"Nice perfume." Sunoo kissed your wrists more harshly than he usually did.

"Fuck you smell so good."

You had no time to think about anything, as the next second, you were against the wall with Sunoo an inch from your face.

Your tongue danced with his in what seemed to a synchronized tango, the two of you treating each other with as much love and affection that your bodies could exude at the moment. His hands toyed with the hem of your dress, his fingers drawing small circles on your thigh. You brought your hands up to his face when you two pulled away from the kiss, pressing your lips against the tip of his nose. His lips connected themselves to your mouth once more, a smile on his face as he did.

He led you to the top of the bed, laying you down slowly as his body hovered on top of yours. He took a moment to take you in, how the light coming from the curtains accentuated your every feature. He leaned in, pressing a small kiss to your forehead and moving on to your cheeks. "You’re so breathtaking baby." he whispered, his mouth coming to yours as he kissed you with such an intensity you'd never faced before.

He undid your dress after you gave him a curt nod, tossing it off to the side. He pressed his lips to the side of your neck, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses on the surface. You moved your neck to give him more access, offering what you could of your body so he could take. his hand moved downward, cupping your breast in his grasp. His fingers rolled around the nipples, pinching and tugging them the way that would have them hardening underneath his grasp. He bit down on your neck, his tongue running over the affected skin to soothe the sting a bit. His mouth moved down to your other breast, engulfing it and treating it the same as the other one.

You brought your hand down to his hair, grasping at the strands as his teeth gently tugged on your nipples. The buds started to erect with every swipe and lick that he took at them, his eyes locking on yours with every movement that he took. Your mouth slightly parted, your breathing starting to grow a little heavier as he stimulated your nipples. He pulled away, leaving a small kiss on the top of your breasts before pressing his lips against your stomach. He trailed kisses all the way down to your cunt, stopping where he knew that you needed him most. His lips moved to your inner thighs, pressing kisses against the delicate flesh. He bit into your right thigh, his fangs leaving their indenture when he pulled away from you.

His mouth eventually did make itself to your cunt, his tongue swiping across your folds to collect the slick that had accumulated. You closed your thighs around his head instinctively, watching as he looked up at you while licking a stripe up your pussy. "Always did taste so good for me, could spend hours buried in this pussy," he spoke up, his tongue going inside your hole after he finished with what he had to say. Your hands made their way to his hair, your fingers gently stroking his hair as he started to push his tongue in and out of you. His eyes rolled to the back of his head when your slick coated his tongue, often taking more pleasure in this than you. "Oh fuck, right there," you moaned out, your voice sounding needy as you felt his tongue hit that one spot inside of you.

He moaned, feeling your body shudder beneath him, your muscles clenching tight around his mouth. He moved faster, his fingers digging into your hips as he pressed his tongue deeper, relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure. "That's it, baby," he growled, his voice low and raspy.

You were right at that moment, feeling your belly pressurize as Sunoo moved like a maniac around your clit. But-

"Oh fuck this." Sunoo spat at your pussy, "I need you inside me."

Your eyes are fixated on his cock that yearns to be inside of your warmth. He pumps his length a few times, drops of precumming spilling out of his sensitive tip as he slowly lines himself up with your drooling entrance. You mewl out lewdly as he pushes himself in, filling you up completely and your palms fly up to his shoulders for purchase. 

You're thankful he prepped you a little bit earlier otherwise you're not so sure if you could take him in one go like this. after a few heartbeats, he rolls his hips slightly, his pelvis rubbing against your puffy clit and you moan softly. 

He picks up the tempo, his thrusts now faster and harder as the room echoes with the sounds of your pleasure and the bed creaking. his strong arms move your legs up to rest on his broad shoulders, making the position more intimate but most importantly, making it easier for him to go deeper.

Sunoo's nostrils are flared, taking in the sweet poison of your perfume. He didn't know what was making him act like this, but he loved it.

The kiss on your neck was gentle and innocent compared to the sinful actions being committed with each of his powerful thrusts. With every single drag of your tight cunt against his dick, constantly clenching around him deliberately which forced out a long string of groans as he felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge.

He dotes on the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name in a choked whisper, your nails clawing down his back. Your cunt pulsing around his cock. Your juices spilling from your hole as he thrusts into you like there's no tomorrow.

"Fuck Sunoo!" you cry as you cream around his cock, cunt tensing around him which pushes him over the edge too. He lets out a broken moan as his warmth fills you up. he stays inside of you for a few moments, not wanting his cum to go to waste. 

"So I guess we'll be skipping the party today?" You look at your husband cheekily.

Sunoo glared at you and gripped your waist more tightly.

"You used that perfume didn't you?" He poked his cheek with his tongue, "Didn't know you were such an impatient slut for me."

"Don't worry darling.

I've not even started yet."

[waterloggedsoliloquy]

mutual 1: sorry the update for my webcomic this week is a bit late! i really had to rush it so it prolly looks really sloppy lol [some of the most sophisticated comic art ive ever seen]

mutual 2: call me uterine lining the way astarions cervix got me bleeding profusely

mutual 3: do you think nanowrimo will give me a posthumous pity publishing deal if i mention it in my suicide note

mutual 4: okay fine i finally started revolutionary girl utena

mutual 5: does columbo know the service he did for butch lesbians. for all of us

mutual 6: wish you were here [blurry picture set of conifer woods in early autumn evening, taken as if frantically running down a winding trail]

mutual 4: im pretty hardy i dont need the trigger list but thanks for looking out for me guys

mutual 7: good morning lovelies another day the wizard tried to best me and another day i successfully locked him in the spare bathroom lol hope u like drinking shampoo fucker

mutual 8: here is a zip of every yuri manga scan i have and here is a backup in case i get dcma'd. the himejoshi lifestyle will never die

mutual 9: i wish i could go back in time to the shinzo abe assassination and ask to hold the doohickey

mutual 10: here's my essay on how wanting to be loved is the same as wanting to be eaten. three paragraphs in you'll find out that this is 100% tied to an obscure beauty and the beast manga i've been reading lately and how much i want to fuck the beast

mutual 4: oh thats why there was the trigger list.

mutual 11: YOU CAN'T LOCK ME IN THIS BATHROOM FOREVER

mutual 12: why do i have to defend my thesis to people i dont even respect. im not dickriding you just give me the degree

mutual 13: its just me and this scab ive picked into my scalp against the world

mutual 14: my little dragon got glazed and is ready to go into the kiln! everyone wish him good luck!

mutual 3: nvm i am a beautiful genius. perhaps the most beautiful genius of all

mutual 15: i think we should give david lynch rpgmaker and whatever happens happens

mutual 16: kpeyboaatrds brpokem gpuys

mutual 17: also heres my work in progress glossary of mixtec words! i still have a long way to go but i love being able to preserve my roots even in this small way

mutual 4: i just finished the black rose arc. question: what

mutual 18: i need emet-selch to be my wife

mutual 19: i need glados to be my husband

mutual 20: visited the ocean today!!! <3 beach pics!!! there is a darkness growing within me

mutual 21: the forms for my legal name change came in. pls vote in this poll of what my middle name should be: Dill Pickle (Dickle for short), Optimus Prime, Tumblr User Gorgonicteratologist, Smeve

mutual 22: just finished my 100th book of the year! this weeks read was the uses of enchantment by the psychologist bruno bettelheim,

mutual 23: reeses penis butter cups lol

mutual 4: i need to hunt akio for sport

mutual 24: oouugghhrgh. hot. dog.

mutual 25: your favorite character or fictional other would want you to brush your teeth and wash your face so you're well rested and wake up feeling refreshed! make them proud!

mutual 26: being a delivery driver isnt the worst job ive ever had but i do keep wondering what itd be like to drive off into the wild blue yonder one day and not come back

mutual 27: weird dog? [phone picture of critically endangered stork]

mutual 28: i think the two phone line polls in front of my house are having a lovers tryst. no way to prove it tho

mutual 4: WHAT

mutual 29: while you bitches are balduring your gates or finalling those fantasies im doing what a REAL gamer does. playing a b tier rpg that came out in 2004 for the 18th time

mutual 30: ^ real. hamtaro ham ham heartbreak is a masterpiece of interactive art. im not even going to call it a video game at this point

mutual 4: THAT'S HOW IT ENDS?! ANTHY?

mutual 31: can you help me pick which drawing looks better: 34% overlay or 36% soft light?

mutual 32: new video essay out. its called disability in video game narratives: final fantasy 14's most reliable fault. i churned the script out over an all-nighter and my mic crapped out halfway through but by god i did it

mutual 33: my new zine bundle is out! if you buy it you also get a discount on all my game jam games! i really cant wait for you to play them!

mutual 4: yall should watch revolutionary girl utena

[moriartyluver]

Okay but imagine being Liam’s wife and he forgets his lunch so you take it to him at the university, and his students (who have seen how soft Liam gets when he talks about his wife) are gushing over you and asking you a bunch of questions about their professor, how the two of you got into a relationship and all that

Meanwhile he’s just flustered and blushing in the corner

AND THAN AFTER YOU LEAVE THEY START TALKING TO HIM ABOUT HOW NICE AND PRETTY YOU ARE

🎀.

A/N: IM CRYING BC I WROTE A ONESHOT FOR THIS BUT IT DIDN SAVE 😭 ANYWAYS I REWROTE IT BASICALLY THE SAME SO TAKE THIS. YOU HAVE BEEN FED ONCE AGAIN, MY DEAR LIAM SIMPS

Character(s): William James Moriarty x fem! Reader

Format: oneshots

Genre: fluff

Prompt: ^^

Warnings: uhhh implied nsfw at the end ig? Reader is a noblewoman, reader is female, reader is William’s wife/ established relationship. NOT PROOFREAD kinda short too 😞

A knock came from the other side of the door to the lecture hall. Classes had already started so you were hoping and praying that this was the right room, as you would’ve felt so embarrassed otherwise.

A familiar voice calls out to you, causing you to smile.

“Come in.”

You slowly open the door, trying not draw too much attention to yourself, which fails terribly the moment you’re visibly in the classroom.

You play with the cloth wrapped around the lunchbox in your hand, which your husband, who was now teaching his class some complex equation, had forgotten that morning in a rush to get to work. (“Five more minutes” he said as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck when you told him to wake up. Those five minutes became half an hour and yet your tired husband didn’t even regret it)

“I’m so sorry to interrupt, Professor-“ you apologise as your husband’s face shifts into a soft smile.

“It’s alright, darling,” he said softly but discreetly as he approached your figure by the door. He took the lunchbox in your hands and gave you a chaste kiss on the cheek right before you walked back to the door, ready to leave as the handle squeaked.

“Oh look! It’s the professor’s wife..!” One student called out to you

As you began to turn to leave, another one of William's students spoke up. "Excuse me, Mrs. Moriarty," he said, waving his arm about as you failed to notice the growing blush on your husband’s face"but we've all been curious about our professor's personal life. Would you mind answering a few questions?"

You hesitated for a moment before nodding your head. The students leaned forward in their seats, eager to hear you talk about the usually strict professor.

They asked about how you met, how long you'd been married, and what it was like being married to the mathematics professor. They all seemed fascinated by William's usually strict demeanour turning soft whenever he mentioned you in the past and now they were faced with you, they understood why.

William was sat in the corner of the room, clearly flustered by the attention, which was rather amusing even if you didn’t admit it aloud. He kept his head down, hiding his pink cheeks whilst you answered his students happily.

As you finished answering the questions and prepared to leave, the students all thanked you for your time. The moment the door shut, William lifted his head to continue the lesson, coughing slightly to regain his composure. The young men in the room talked of how beautiful and kind you were to them, while the professor desperately tried to change the subject.

Not that he didn’t agree, of course, because he certainly did, but because he knew if the topic of conversation had stayed on his lovely wife, he wouldn’t be able to resist singing your praises or getting incredibly flustered and lovesick as he thought of you.

When he arrived home after work, he showed this great affection in the best possible way (iykwim🤭😏), secretly hoping you’d come by his classroom more often.

[unknownfacelessfanfictions]

i have an idea for a q x reader (specifically the one from the next generation cuz idk) but i have absolutely no writing pizzazz so id thought you’d like to hear about it:

ok so reader (can be she/her or gender neutral whatever ur comfy w/) works on the enterprise and she was betrothed to a guy when she was born. he’s a bit of a jerk, she doesn’t rlly wanna marry him BUT in grooms society a betrothal is a binding vow so the crew on the enterprise can’t interfere with it as it’s their way of life (cuz i THIIIINK that goes against the prime directive im not too sure tho). so anyways she/they is feeling a little bit down so she decideds to pray to *any* god out there to help her (i think you know where this is going accidental summoning of god trope here we go). SOOO unfortunately she summons Q. Q says “i’ll help you, but you need to get married to me instead because ever since i was turned into a human i’ve wanted to know what that’s like and fortunately ur in the right place at the right time girlfriend”. reader says yes cuz again groom is a jerk. their relationship develops (and obviously everybody on the enterprise and their mothers are VRRY mad, picard even more so).

if the reader ever does develop actual feelings for him and turn it into a fluffy fic or if she is totally disinterested and it can be a lil angsty twinge that’s for you to decide. SORRY if this is too many details and doesn’t rlly leave room for creativity i tried to keep it as barebones as possible. again if you wanna write this that’s totally up to you and i 100% respect it if you don’t but if you do see this and it catches ur interest then im glad i asked. love ur stuff 🫶

I do.

Q x fem!reader (3rd POV) Words: 3.1K Warnings: Arranged marriage, marriage of convinience A/N: Thanks again for the request @franlovesyouu and I am so sorry again, that it took so long. I changed a bit, I hope that's okay. Hope you still enjoy it :) P.S. the fiancé became a bit of an asshole. Sorry for that

His hand lay on her back and travelled up and down. She felt sick and had to turn to the side as the mere sight of him was too much for her. From the corner of her eye, she could see that Worf and Will, among others, were sitting at one of the tables nearby, watching her tensely. She tried to give them an encouraging smile, but she already knew it would be useless. There was nothing encouraging about the situation.

Just then, she could feel Esua's hand move from her back to her waist and pull her towards her. "Hey. Eyes on me sweetie." His breath reeked of alcohol and she squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could to stifle the tears that suddenly welled up, but before she did, she could see Worf sit up straighter and was held back by a grim-looking Will. "Hey!"

His fingers gripped her chin firmly and he turned her face almost brutally towards him.

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and looked at him, still fighting back the tears. He grinned smugly. "' That's good." She managed a growl and yanked her head out of his grasp. "Don't. I told you I don't like it." His fingers tightened around her chin again, this time with more pressure, and she was sure she'd bruise. "You are my wife. You have to obey me, whether you like it or not."

Her heart grew heavy and at the same time she felt like she was going to throw up. She tore herself away again and stood up this time to get some space between herself and him.

"I'm not your wife yet," she hissed softly so as not to draw attention to her, but she couldn't stop the tears from welling up in her eyes. "Which means you have nothing to dictate to me."

She turned on the spot and stormed towards the door. Will stood up, concern clearly visible, but she just shook her head. She just wanted to be alone

At that moment, she was glad that she could have mapped out the layout of the ship in her sleep, as her vision was obscured by a veil of tears that allowed her to make out nothing more than outlines. She only allowed the tears to flow freely when the doors to her quarters closed behind her and she was in the private safety of herself.

A sob escaped her, clawing at the back of her throat, and she pressed a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. Even if the walls were soundproofed, there was that small part of her that refused to shed tears over this man. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

"God," she gasped, running her hands vigorously over her face in the hope of getting a hold of herself without much success. "Pull yourself together. You're strong, not fussy, you shouldn't be sitting here crying."

But no matter how hard she tried to keep it together, she couldn't and eventually the first hot tears began to roll down her cheeks. As soon as the liquid wet her skin, there was no escape in sight and as much as she tried to fight it, she couldn't help but collapse on her sofa, sobbing.

She should have been more composed and in control of herself by now. After all, she knew it would come to this since she was a little girl. The Drakthar, her people, were a fairly traditional people, as the humans liked to call them, and betrothals of children for political and social benefits were not uncommon and more importantly: binding. There were very few reasons why a betrothal could be broken off and Esau, as obnoxious as he was, was no fool and had taken meticulous care to ensure that none of these cases would occur.

And she had actually come to terms with it by now. However, now that the wedding date was only a few months away and the time when the bride and groom were supposed to be together began, the whole thing seemed so much more realistic and threatening.

She knew that crying wouldn't help her either. She would have to marry Esau and spend her life by his side.

Not even the Enterprise could help her, as it was already clear that he would live here with her.

There was no escape. And yet she caught herself as it escaped her lips. "Please, someone, help," she pleaded, but knew it was useless. No one would be able to help her. No one.

At some point, she must have fallen asleep, exhausted and weeping, because she woke up as a flash of light coursed through her quarters. Sleepy and a little disorientated, she looked around and it wasn't long before her eyes fell on the tall, brunette man in the captain's uniform, who was looking at her with a raised eyebrow and a mischievous smirk on his lips. She had never seen him before, let alone met him in person, but it was no secret who was standing in front of her.

"Wrong quarters Q," she muttered, more resigned than angry and annoyed, which was probably how she should feel. "The captain's quarters are on a different deck."

Q, however, contrary to her expectations, did not move more than a step towards her. "No, no, my dear lieutenant, I'm definitely in the right place."

She frowned, but didn't have enough energy to actively argue with him. "Q, please. I'm really not in the mood for any games."

Q clicked his tongue admonishingly and stepped a little closer to her. "So ungrateful. Even though I've generously agreed to help you out." These words caught her attention and she straightened up a little on the sofa, confusion clear on her tear-streaked face. "To help out? How so?"

The grin had returned to his face and he seemed to take her question as an invitation to come closer. "I've heard your dilemma, with this ... creature you're supposed to marry because of your parents' wishes. Truly awful, no taste this man, just his choice of clothes seems even more boring than you mortals normally wear."

She didn't interrupt him, no matter how much she wanted to argue with him. She was desperate and if he actually had a way to help her, she would take it, no matter how impossible it seemed.

"But don't despair, for I have heard your plea!" Q spread his arms out as if he were standing in front of a huge crowd and giving a speech that would be followed by thunderous applause. She didn't clap, but simply raised a brow.

"Please don't get me wrong, I don't want to underestimate you or anything, but how are you going to help me? Breaking a Dratharkian engagement is next to impossible." Q smiled and leaned forward so that his face hovered directly in front of hers, allowing her to see the twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "But not completely." He snapped his fingers and a scroll appeared in his hand with a small flash of light.

In a loud voice, as if he were standing in an open courtyard, he proclaimed, "A betrothal between the son and daughter of Drothrak is to be cancelled only if the son has betrayed the daughter; if the family of one harms the family of the other; if the daughter of Drothrak is claimed by divinity; or if the son of Drothrak is unable to provide a life for the daughter."

He rolled up the scroll again and it disappeared in another flash of light as he looked at it expectantly.

But she was only the more confused and devoted than before. "I know the rules, Q. And trust me when I say that none of them apply to me. Esau has not deceived me, at least not demonstrably, or cannot provide for me, nor do our families have a feud that can prevent this marriage. There is no way out." She pulled her knees to her chest.

Q, however, sighed heavily and dramatically and shook his head. "And here I thought I'd caught an intelligent mortal." He leaned further forward so that their faces were inches apart as she glared angrily at him. "What about the fourth exception?"

She snorted and turned her head away so she no longer had to stare into his irritating eyes. "Oh of course, how could I forget, silly me. Let me just call our neighbouring god and see if he can 'claim' me. Of course, how could I not think of that."

She expected a snippy comment from Q, but he remained silent, which irritated her even more. Although it was the first time she had met the omnipotent man, she knew from stories that he rarely remained silent. When she turned back to him, however, he only looked at her expectantly, somewhat amused, she thought, and seemed to be waiting for her to come to the conclusion he had already reached.

With a furrowed brow, she looked at him in turn and thought hard, mentally going over the things he had told her and the things she knew, and suddenly everything seemed to click into place. She widened her eyes and looked at him in surprise. "Oh."

"There you go!" Q straightened up and spread his arms. Out of nowhere, fanfares sounded and confetti fell to the floor like an awards ceremony. "The penny has dropped."

She was still a little behind, a little overwhelmed by the revelation. "You want to claim me?" Q grimaced slightly. "Claiming is such an outdated term. Very toxically masculine, don't you think? No, no, my dear. I'm offering you marriage."

The situation seemed to be slipping away from her more by the second. "You want to marry me?" Her voice got a little too high for her taste towards the end. "So my solution to escaping a marriage is to enter into another one?"

Q clicked his tongue again. "Well, I certainly hope that my presence is a lot more pleasant than that deadbeat's." She didn't even try to answer. "But why? What benefit could you possibly gain from it?" "Can't you just settle for me trying to help you?" Q was beginning to look a little annoyed and massaged the bridge of his nose, but she withstood his piercing gaze.

"You're offering to marry me. If you know our laws so well, you should know that a marriage like this cannot be dissolved. Never. So forgive me if I would like to know your motives before I bind myself to you for the rest of my life." Q stared at her for a few moments, as if contemplating whether it was worth it, before sighing devotedly and waving his hand dismissively in the air. "I've become curious." She raised her eyebrow in disbelief. "Curious? About marriage?"

He just snorted. "Don't sound so surprised. I was mortal myself. Admittedly not for long and it was an experience I would have liked to avoid, but there were definitely aspects that piqued my interest. And one of them is marriage."

His gaze slid to the porthole and his eyes flickered back and forth, as if trying to burn each passing star into his memory. "The idea that you choose one person to spend every moment of the rest of your life with... It's a strange thought, but an interesting one."

"Q," she muttered warningly. "If I agree to this, you'll be the one. This is not a game. I won't force you to spend time with me or anything like that, but I won't be allowed to have any other kind of relationship. So you need to be clear about what it means and be sure you're serious."

He looked at her and for the first time she truly felt that the man in front of her was eons old and had seen unimaginable things, just from the way his eyes looked in the dim light. " I am more than aware of the fact." She nodded slowly and exhaled shakily. She had to be insane, completely insane. Then again... What choice did she have? Q tilted his head. "I take it you'll accept the offer?"

A bittersweet smile settled on her lips. "I do."

~**~

"This is irresponsible! A disgrace!" Her mother's voice rang shrill and sharp in her ears, but she couldn't help but smile slightly herself. They were sitting in the captain's office and for the last ten minutes she had been listening to her mother and Esau's mother ranting in turn. Esau himself was sitting next to her, devastated.

Opposite her sat the captain and Will, both with serious faces, although she thought she saw the hint of a slight smile on Will's lips. "How dare you?" "Hasn't been particularly hard," she returned, which didn't make either woman particularly happy. "You've brought shame on both our families," Lytal, the mother of her ex-fiancé, screeched. "Esau was supposed to be your husband! You had obligations!"

"Ladies," said Picard, who had risen from his chair. His face was one of practised neutrality, but she could see the little sparkle in his eyes as his gaze flitted over to her for a brief moment. "I don't think this is going to get us anywhere. What's done is done."

"It's not valid," her mother hissed and she let out an annoyed sigh. "Mother, I've already explained it to you several times: Q and I followed the traditional rites. We are legally married according to Drothraki and Federation law. You can't undo it, when will you finally understand!" "You were betrothed to Esau, that's binding!" "I obeyed the law, Lytal." She was getting tired of it all. She had already repeated herself at least four times. "It is written in the law of our people that a betrothal can be cancelled if the bride is claimed by a god. That's what happened."

Lytal was fuming, so much so that she was sure the woman was about to burst a vein. "This is nothing more than a loophole, something added for the sake of etiquette-"

"And still part of the law!" Her mother gasped. "You apologise for your behaviour right now!" She exhaled slowly and squeezed out a forced smile before turning to Picard, to everyone's surprise. "My mother is right. I apologise for all the inconvenience I've caused you. I realise that I have caused some problems, but I hope you can understand my motives, sir."

She could see how hard it was for Picard not to smile. Will had completely given up, the smug grin clearly visible on his face. Her mum didn't think of it as funny.

"You ungrateful child!" She stormed towards her, her hand raised, but she didn't get far. A flash of light travelled across the room and suddenly Q stood between them, his eyebrow raised in warning, his expression one of amused annoyance. "Ladies, I think that's enough." There was something threatening in his tone.

"If any of you lay a hand on her, you'll have a problem with me, and believe me-" there was an almost dangerous glint in his eyes "- no one wants that." Both her mother and Lytal recoiled, frightened and the protest stifled in their throats, while Esau watched him sceptically from the corner. Picard, for his part, cleared his throat. "Q, I think that's enough."

However, he only snorted and just stepped far enough to the side for her to see him, but close enough to be able to step between them again in an emergency. "My own mother-in-law wanted to go after her daughter. My wife! As amusing as the whole thing has been so far, I would be neglecting my marital duties if I didn't intervene."

His gaze hardened as he looked back at the two women and Esau. "She is now under my protection. Any harm done to her will be dealt with in... creative ways." It truly amused her how quickly the colour drained from the three's faces the longer Q stared at them.

Will cleared his throat this time and stood up too, so that everyone present was now standing. "Let's face it: it can't be changed. The necessary documents have been submitted to prove that the marriage between her and Q was concluded months ago and is legitimate. However they managed that."

She had to suppress a grin, whereas Q presented his openly. It certainly had its advantages when space and time were no longer obstacles. "We should concentrate on what the lieutenant desires and what she wants."

He turned to her. "Lieutenant, did this marriage take place according to your wishes? You were not forced?" She nodded. "Yes, sir, it was all with my consent." "There you have it." Q raised his arms as if to say 'I told you so'. "Problem solved." Picard and Will exchanged a few glances before he turned to the two mothers. "As Commander Riker said, there's nothing we can do legally. And since the lieutenant is satisfied, we're not going to intervene. So we have no choice but to accept the whole thing and put it behind us."

Her mother turned red in the face again and seemed to want to say something, as did Lytal, but both were held back by Esau. "Leave it," he muttered, pulling them towards the door. "It's not worth it."

Q eyed her with a smug smile. "Smart decision, little mortal." He gave Q a scathing look, which wasn't particularly intimidating, before the door closed behind them and she exhaled in relief. With a somewhat exhausted smile, she turned to Picard. "Forgive me again, Captain." He just nodded. "Dismissed." She could still see Will's grin before she and Q disappeared in a flash of light and emerged in her quarters, where she dropped onto the sofa with a frustrated sound. Q followed quietly and settled down on the cushion. "You held yourself well. For a mortal."

It sounded derogatory, but she had learnt to read his mood over the last few months. He was impressed and pleased, at least a little. She turned her head slightly so that she could see him and noticed him twirling the ring on his hand, lost in thought, before he quickly withdrew his hand.

"Thank you Q. For stepping in." He just shrugged his shoulders, but she could see how pleased he was with the praise. "I would be a terrible husband if I didn't defend my wife's honour and health. I've learnt that much, after all."

She smiled. Although their relationship was not exactly a romantic one, she had grown fond of the god. And who knew what might come of it?

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

Don't know if you still wanna be tagged since I've been gone for a bit, but still did it just to be sure.

@bigblissandlove1 @akamitrani

[nivtee]

: ̗̀➛ OPEN. kirishima eijirou

kirishima eijiour x gn!reader

fluff ! open relationship ! cheating ! unhappy marriage ! jerk!midoriya ! reader is reffered to as 'wife !

your husband wants to open your marriage, and kirishima has been waiting for so long

sipping lightly on the champagne you had ordered, you ignored the slight buzz running through your stomach. as much as you wanted to claim it was the drink, you knew it was the nerves.

you still wore your wedding ring, the green jewel sitting on full display. you turned it around to face your palm with a frown.

you were a wife, a wife to izuku midoriya, deku, the number one pro hero. you thought you treated him well, acting like a good little housewife for him whenever he went away.

however, you couldn't ignore the sutble glances you gave him every now and then. you weren't a pushover, no, but you let things slide under the rug when it came to midoriya.

the pieces of clothing you'd find tucked away in his draws when doing the laundry, the way he would hide his screen at the dinner table, too many late nights at the agency. you weren't stupid.

maybe you were, otherwise you would have left him, demanded for a divorce like mina and suggested and ran off. only, you had sat and listened to his excuses and his suggestions of how you both could work on the relationship.

you scoffed, like you needed to work on anything for him.

he'd suggested an open marriage maybe three, four months ago. tabloids had blown up after you agreed, 'pro hero deku seen courting fellow hero uravity!' 'deku seen with another woman, without wedding ring?' 'are the midoriya's still in love?'

you shook your head and pulled out your phone. you hadn't dabbled in dating, hadn't even thought of going through with izuku's idea until momo had suggested it.

“you should take him up on his offer,” she had texted your right after getting off the phone and listening to you rant about him for the seventh time. “go on a couple dates, see how quickly he comes running back to you.”

and so here you were, dressed up, covered in red. a passerby may have believed you were being stood up but you weren’t, you’d arrived almost half an hour earlier.

maybe this was wrong, maybe you should just call him up and tell him you weren’t ready-

“am I late?” you lifted your head, eyes dancing up the black suit with red accents that stood in front of you. he was taller, much taller that you or izuku, with his hair neatly slicked back, most likely freshly dyed due to the red stains on his forehead.

he held a bouquet of flowers, gripping the bottom of them so tightly you were worried they might break, and his other hand gripping the back of his chair.

you hadn’t responded since he spoke, too enthralled by his sharp teeth and the way the suit clenched around his muscles.

“no!” you jumped at your own voice. “no. sorry, im- you’re just on time.” you smiled and let out a puff of air, straightening yourself up.

“good. shit, oh- sorry, I was so worried i’d be late, didn’t want you to think of me standing you up.” he rubbed the back of his neck.

eijirou kirishima, pro hero red riot. you kept your eyeroll to yourself at mina’s obvious matchmaking. she had told you just how enamoured he was with you ever since he’d seen you at one of the hero galas.

of course, you’d never seen him so dressed up before. “you look stunning.” you smiled, covering your mouth with your hand to try and stop the blush running up your neck.

“im- mina said you liked red, so.” you shrugged, picking up a menu despite already knowing what you wanted.

“i’d like you in anything,” you raised your eyebrows, peeking at him and noticed the pink covering his cheeks.

izuku didn’t compliment you much, not when you’d go out to dinners and not when you’d been at home.

“if this date goes well, I might just show you in my winter wear.” you winked at him, and he let out a laugh in response. he shook his head and raised his hand for a waiter.

you furrowed your brow and bit your lip, ignoring the slight flutter in your stomach as you compared his actions to things izuku would do.

he wasn’t rude, but being number one had gone to his head and somewhere along the way he started figuring out he could do whatever he wanted, so usually he’d walk straight to the kitchen and order straight from there.

as the waiter came around, kirishima glanced up to ask you what you wanted, giving you the chance to snap out of your thoughts.

“uh- could I please have the cheese steak?” the lady nodded, sending you a polite smile before collecting your menus. it was a stark contrast to the way most waitresses would glare when you were with izuku.

“so,” eijirou was nervous. he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, because he didn’t want you to think he was worried and uncool, but god was he nervous.

staring over at you, his breath kept catching every-time your eyes glanced up at home. your jewlery doing nothing in comparison to the red over your chest.

he would have to thank mina for the suggestion.

“do you want to talk about it?” you knew what he was talking about but you hadn’t expected him to ask, no one had asked you about it.

“no, no.” you smiled up at him, “we’re on a date. I wan’t to talk about you.”

everything had been amazing. kirishima had paid for the dinner, even after you’d tried to pay, and he’d promised to let you pay next time. you couldn’t ignore the way it made your stomach tighten.

he’d even walked you to the front door, where you were sure izuku would have already had his guest come and go. meaning you wouldn’t have much time before he came down to see who you were with.

“I hope you had a good time. with me- I mean.” kirishima pursed his lips. you stood up two of the steps and only just reached the same height as him. he held your hand in his own and rocked it back and forth.

“I did,” you swallowed, ignoring just how nice he felt with your hand in his, how warm he was. “i’m really looking forward to the next one.”

you pulled him forward by his tie and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips, pulling back only for him to pull you back in, his lips stopping just before your own.

“please-“ he whimpered, letting you know that it was you that got to make the final move. you crashed your lips against his, wrapping your arms around his neck and feeling his clench the fabric on your waist.

the flick of the porch light made you well aware of your predicament, the both of you splitting a part as the door swung open.

izuku, shirtless and dressed in his grey sweatpants, arms crossed and staring down at the both of you.

“oh. izuku, this is-“

“kirishima.” izuku nodded, completely ignoring you and staring the taller man down. if he was scared. eijirou didn’t show it and instead nodded back and turned to you.

“ill see you round, alright?” he waved and moved back towards his car, letting you turn your attention back to izuku.

[ike-mcswains-mortician]

hello hello fellow lovely and talented artist that I happened to be mutuals with, can I learn more about your ocs? /nf they look so skrunkly and precious snndndndndndnrkelsofk /pos

HI HELLO!!! first off let me say that you’re so sweet wtf?? thank youuu gah i love my sillies and im honestly honored people want to hear abt them c:

second, sorry this took so long to answer hehe i wanted to post ref sheets for my characters and i realized i. dont have them. SO i had to doodle em up hehe

OKAYYYY first on the docket is wynn!

she’s my cleric in @locke-n-k3y’s campaign and she is pathetic <3. she has never stepped on a crunchy leaf and she just wants to Go Home. i can’t say much more cause of plot spoilers (glares at my other moots in the campaign /lh) but mayhap i will flood ur dms!

-

next is my character from my first ever campaign and her armpiece boyfriend! hehe

so fun fact they both hold titles: queen and bishop respectively, because the campaign took place in a demon’s chess game!! it was super fun hehe and max was originally an npc from leonora’s backstory BUT my dm brought him into the campaign proper and then i stole his character sheet so he’s MINE NOW.

leonora is actually the niece of the BBEG and her father was the patron of our party’s warlock! so some fun family dynamics there. max is rumored to be an insane necrophile because leonora is legally dead! fun!! and there’s a whole lot of backstory stuff i bombarded @thedndgoblinwholivesinyourwalls with hehe so they’re linked here, here, and here.

-

next are some characters i love dearly but haven’t posted about much! starting with lorelei

…whose character playlist is 80% carrie underwood. if that gives you any indication of her vibes hehe. rambunctious child to a pious, uptight family, lorelei is off to discover herself and prove herself out of SPITE!! she’s a college of chance bard to be specific and she’s kind of just here for a good time not for a long time. also i accidentally made it canon that she has in fact fucked a dragon.

-

and finishing off the roster of characters i’ve finished refs for: casimir (and his daughter veda!!)

so casimir is a necromancer whose wife left him after he was Consumed By The Horrors!! but his daughter stuck around and accidentally saw some stuff she wasn’t supposed to see, so his mentor had her killed as a way to teach casimir his place so to speak. he intended to give up his studies but then her ghost started appearing to him, and now it’s almost like she never left! also he is very much drowned cat in the dumpster energy as well. i love him dearly.

-

i have some more characters but i didn’t get a chance to draw refs for them but i’ll sum them up briefly!!

j. “backfire” hicks is a pact of the trigger warlock who is quite literally just jimmy from the young riders but with magic guns instead of real ones lol. slightly altered backstory but not by much

and i have another warlock named derowyn, whose info is here! loosely based on the woodsman from over the garden wall, but a satyr whose brothers soul is in the lantern and if she tries to back out of the deal THEY becomes a tree hehe

-

AAAH THAT WAS SO LONG SORRYYYYYY but i love getting able to talk about my sillies :D thank you for letting me infodump hehe

[angelwolf985]

finished watching supernatural s1-15 in 3 months! here are my opinions on the finale!

(warning: probably unintelligible, and very ranty) (+ obvious spoiler warning)

episode 18 was fuckin emaculate. genuinly. it was amazing. the one thing i didnt like about it was how it jumped about, same with 19.( i dont blame them for it tho, it makes sense with the story, i just didnt really love it.) 19 was good for the most part and served as a decent ending but was missing castiel and eileen (mention + presence) which sucked but what can you expect yk,,

episode 20. i have. so many issues with episode 20. WHY DID THEY EVEN????? LIKE TWO MENTIONS OF CAS, NO MENTION OF EILEEN, DEAN FUCKING DIEING, SAMS WIG, ???HEAVEN BEING LACKLUSTER???? it was so. just disappointing. cuz it could've been great. the end part of 20 was the only good part (jared and jensen signing off of the show). the show should've ended on 19 tbh. thats how im seeing it anyway. in my mind thats where it ended, but like, with cas and eileen back.

what i really disliked:

deans death. im pretty sure everyone hated that. and the whole like thing of him dying was really,, sorta,, weird? like; why did it go on so long?? did it happen bc he doesnt have god given plot armor anymore or was it just cuz?did jack see it? how did he feel about it? did he care or did he be all omniscient because he became god?? how did he survive that long? logistically? there was a fucking rusty rebar thing IN HIS SPINE (or like RIGHT NEXT TO IT??). WOULD THAT NOT?? PARALYZE?? OR WORSE???. and, im sorry, but i hated the forehead touch. it felt weird man. i get that they were close but,, not that close? even when they were more unhealthily codependent they wouldn't have done that. i think so anyway. i dunno. also. DEAN HAS SHOWN MULTIPLE TIMES AND IM SURE THE WRITERS WERE OVERTLY AWARE THAT DEAN DID NOT WANT TO DIE ON THE JOB. HE WANTED TO RETIRE WITH SAM AND CAS. ALWAYS WANTED THAT. he often said shit like "we're gonna die on the job, draw the short stick, thats just how it is, how its gonna end for us." (mixing quotes from the top of my head so, not exact) which he clearly thought would happen because pessimism but he NEVER wanted that. for HIMSELF or SAM. dean dying in this episode IS A CRITICAL DISSERVICE TO HIS CHARACTER.

sams mystery wife and (non mystery) child. BLURRY FACE WIFE. WHY IS SHE. WHY. also- how did he recover (seemingly) so quickly? i mean- if he really believed dean was gone FOREVER. when death hasnt meant forever in forever, how would he be so okay? idk. also, idk why, but sam having a kid seems very bizzare. could just be me. also. where tf is eileen. is she the blurry face wife? why would they do that if yes? (could be a load or reasons, either way they couldve like, said it was eileen, if it was supposed to,, idk,,,)

one or two mentions of castiel. did the writers just forget his CHARACTER IMPORTANCE?!?!? HES SO IMPORTANT TO THE STORY??? HE GRIPPED DEAN TIGHT AND RAISED HIM FROM PERDITION. HE LOVED DEAN. DEAN (INARGUABLY) LOVED HIM BACK. he (castiel) deserved SO. much better. my friend who has watched spn since she was a baby AGREES WITH ME. i GRRR I GRR I GRRR!!!! cas not being in this episode is such an aggravating disservice to his character. he deserved more. the fans deserved more.

alright im done ranting now. may add more on later. im gonna go rewatch the show and read fix it fics.

[dimension20npcofalltime]

My Favourite Tags / Reblogs of Round Two

Yeah sorry this one's long

#the yogurt man deserves this

Loose Duke did NOT hide for nearly an entire season in a spaceship’s vents, personally haunting Emily Axford the real person’s mind, to lose. - inkytrinket-irii

#loose duke is the only npc that gets better the less you see him

#hell yes! BIM SWEEP!#all the calroy girlies see his canon artwork and run for the hills. pathetic.#that man is a slice of cake and he’s sexier than any pink​​​-haired twink you could possibly draw

#chose calroy bc of that one monologue that out of context makes a crown of Candy sound like the most intense historical war period piece#to ever exist#also bc I did not watch sophmore year

#calroy sweep are you kidding#the gayest slice of cake to ever live

#hardest decision of my life 5ever#shit in your mouth vs watch me shit? how could i ever decide between those two?#(it was calroy easily)

#voted ox just so it's not a complete wipe. he's a Good Boy and i'm love him#but he doesn't stand a chance against the unhinged all-consuming-devotion dykery that is wuvvy

#i love garthy but Aelwyn has been giving me brainrot for the padt few months#the kind of character you want to snap in half and then cry about it

#it’s tough because aelwyns whole deal makes me cry#but on the other hand garthy is hot as hell

#ough this is hard#on one hand aelwyn is v complex and is central to adaines development in fhsy#on the other hand... garthy's voice is hot as hell and they are chill as hell#i GUESS ill pick aelwyn. im just saying i hate asmr but if it was garthy i think all my stress would melt away

#GUYS COME ON I KNOW GARTHY IS HOT BUT.#LOOK AT HER#SOPPING WET CAT OF A GIRL ALSO REMEMBER WHEN SHE WALKED INTO A LUDICROUS PARTY#OF HER OWN MAKING#SMASHED TWO BOTTLE OF LIQUOR AND MAGICED THAT SHIT STRAIGHT DOWN HER THROAT???#she is so everything to me Adaine in the first minutes of the campaign immediately tries to murder her#she shut down her mind to survive torture and kept her personality in a black box only her sister could open#sibling relationship of all time guys

#i love them both#but it has to be john feathers#most guy of all time despite literally being a bird

#if you're not gonna beat up a bunch of angels to give your wife tax advice don't even look at dale

#WHY is esther losing!!!#justice for my girl#my girl has the only braincell in NYC#released from her curse and immediately jumps the hot firefighter#nothing but respect

#one of the very few acoc characters i'll vote against without hesitation#ESPECIALLY for baron my god i love that little freak

#baron you funky creation from aroace fear

#i love dr lugash so fucking much#but you really put him up against annabelle cheddar? the most dyke 5ever?#i love her sm

#lugash would want you to vote annabell#because he is lgbt ally

#why does raghs art have him dressed as a dad at a barbecue#actually you know what he IS gay and it makes sense for him to be that flavor of gay

#plug's gonna lose a poll the same day he's gonna die- tomorrow

#Wilma!!!#or did y'all forget our education on docking

#vote caramelinda my god she deserves this win#also she's canonically lesbian. dyke rights.

[deepspacedukat]

Hey! I love your Vulcan content, its all so good! So I got into a car crash the other day and im in a lot of pain right now, can you maybe spare any Vulcan/Human relationship content to distract me? Thanks for reading my ask, have a great day!

Thank you so much for your sweet words, Nonny. Sorry this request took me so long to get out, but hopefully the other Vulcan stories I’ve put out have been able to tide you over in the meantime! 💚 I hope your pain is gone, and that you enjoy this little drabble!

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Drizzle

Mestral (ST:ENT) x Reader

[A/N: This is just fluff.]

Warnings: Interspecies relationship, Vulcan/Human relationship, fluff, kissing, cuddling, established relationship, rainy day cuddles.

~*~

Mestral had seen rain many times before while stranded on Earth. Before T’Mir and Stron returned to Vulcan, it seemed unremarkable to him - merely a logical weather phenomenon. As the decades passed, however, he observed many different reactions to precipitation. His first partner, Maggie, had detested rain.

After she passed, Mestral left Carbon Creek and traveled for many years, observing humanity. People scurried for cover when rain came, but whether they complained about its presence or welcomed it depended entirely upon the individual he was observing. He never truly understood why rain should draw an emotional response from people, but it often did.

For example, Mestral found his new partner curled up in an armchair by the window watching the spring shower from the warmth of their living room. She seemed not to hear him walk in, at first. He had already removed his big, rain-soaked coat and left his boots by the door. Her serenity seemed so complete that he almost hated to disrupt it, but after the cold of the rain he dearly desired his love’s embrace. She was warm and she never hesitated to share her body heat with him.

She looked over just as he knelt beside the arm of the chair and rested his chin on the soft fabric. A smile curled her lips, and Mestral was reminded of the same brilliant joy she’d shared with him. Even that first sheepish smile she’d given him when they first met. She’d been dancing in the rain, taking such obvious pleasure in the simple sensation of the precipitation on her skin that she hadn’t noticed him watching her at first.

“I was wondering if you’d get home or if you’d simply be washed away,” she murmured now as his hand rested lightly on her thigh. He knew his adoration was plastered quite obviously on his face. If his wife had been Vulcan instead of Human, he would likely have been chastised for the openness of his expression.

“You realize of course that such an occurrence would be illogical, my wife,” he replied, but she just let out a little laugh. “Ah, I see that the rain has encouraged a pleasant mood.”

“Mmm, yep. Rain like this is beautiful! Besides, it means I get to keep my husband warm this evening,” she said as she ran her fingers through his hair, letting her nails scrape against his scalp the way he enjoyed. Mestral’s eyelids fluttered shut, and he let out a contented sigh. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s go to bed.”

Moments later, the two of them were twined in each other’s arms, watching the rain patter gently against the windows from beneath their blankets. Mestral had grown to love rainy days as much as he loved his wife.

[sukirichi]

holy shit long rant ahead

"Like-like you're looking for the man who courted you two years ago, the one you truly wanted to marry. Well, I'm sorry to disappoint, because you're not going to find him. He never existed in the first place. Whatever it is you're looking for, you won't find it in me," *shit here we go again audio with head in my hands*

"Get out of your head. Just because I did all those things for you, doesn't mean they meant something. Are you forgetting I spent two years of my life trying to win you over, and I never once felt something for you other than tolerance?" When your face fell, triumph washed over his features. "That's right. You remember now, don't you? She's the one I want. Everything I do is for her. Don't forget your place."

Man idk how the princess heard this another time without breaking down in rage cause either this man is going down with me or nothing. Princess where is your self respect? PICK YOURSELF UPPPPPPP THIS MAN LEGIT RUNS ALL OVER YOU AND all we do is cry and yearn for more LIKE WE NEED TO BLOW IR*S AND HIM UP ATP BRING THE BIG GUNS OUT I NEED KUROO AND HIS ROOSTER LOOKING ASS TO POST THAT ARTICLE ASAP

“Your mother's sniffles was the last thing you heard before the sound of a fist connecting with skin resounded in the area. Pulling back, you gasped at what you saw.”

OH THE SATISFACTION I FELT HERE SWEET HEAVENS I wish someone recorded it and we could watch it all over again cause UM LESGO WWE 🗣️🤺 never have I ever loved a father this much cause he SLAYED LEFT NO CRUMBS AT ALLL #curedmyfatherissues

“Want me, you pleaded silently, at least want me. Just a little bit.” pookie 🤠😟😞 cmon we better than this

“Rintaro hadn't mean to. Sure, he was careless and never used protection, but he thought little of it. Iris® cycles were irregular and they never worried if she missed her period. She was always on the pill - all because of him, since Kiyoomi wouldn't have touched her anyway.”

he’s one sick bastard I hope he rots imagine cheating on your wife that you claim to love, doing it in your shared bed AND without protection like babe the article was so deserved by god

and the ending sentence,,,,,just made me so sick because as much as I hate rin and ir*s, I think I hate the queen and the king more because the issues started with them. with the king being an absolute whore and having kids with random ass women LIKE WHERE IS THE VASECTOMY GET HIS TUBES TIED and the queen being a bitch to rin his whole life just to find out my man got issues for nothing??? not defending him at all but to find out that all he knew as his “home” and family (even tho they sucked) were all never really his,,, I can see his heart breaking with the image he had of his family in his mind in the form of drawings made by his inner child, torn in half,,,,,,,oh I am about to be SICK

(and once he finally found his real home aka princess, bro fumbled it up BADDDD like if I was him I would beg for forgiveness + repent + burn the castle with the queen in it <33 (not the princes, tobio pookie you are coming home with me)

bro’s mental health must be in a delicate state, I hate him but I am also worried for him 🥲

- Freud anon is in shambles btw

THE HERE WE GO AGAIN AUDIO AAHJKA SO TRUE he just keeps on going back and forth like decide already!! 😭 do you want us or not!!

the self respect is… there, just buried under very deep layers of still hoping for something good. but also like we can’t really blame dtd!yn for acting this way because rintaro was FINALLY changing and being the husband we wanted him to be! the whole romantic dinner setup, working on the beach house together, and not once even mentioning iris????!!? BRO WAS DEDICATED. but then yeah he really just had to ruin it all again UGH. “all we do is cry and yearn for more.” actually real.

the daddy issues tag im crying 😭 sending all my love and hugs to you anon. BUT YES omg I loveeee our dad so much in DTD because he really said fuck around and find out! dude literally did not care that he was punching a royal because his daughter was more important than their titles! our parents in dtd are soo parents goals I love them <3

nauh bcos rintaro is careless and CRAZYYY. not only did they do it in OUR bed but he did it raw like! I would’ve thrown up ngl. AGHJSKA the vasectomy LMFAO. unfortunately it’s his duty to have many children and he fulfilled that part VERY well, just yknow… they really should’ve specified to him that he had to have kids with his wife and not other women. but yes I agree! all the problems really started because the king and queen hated each other (or more like, the queen hated him for how he treated her, and the king just didn’t care about her at all. he just knew she’d be a good queen and he needed someone smart and capable in leading the country so he can slack off. terrible, terrible man.) YES OMGGG THE DRAWINGS STOPPP I GET SO SAD EVERYTIME I THINK OF RINTARO’S LIFE WAS STOLEN FROM HIM AND ALL HIS ISSUES, EVERYTHING THAT HE FUCKED UP, HAD BEEN FOR NOTHING! and now he’s fumbling so bad too like bro is losing everything that should’ve never been his in the first place ugh.

YES! we protect and love tobio in this house!! and I agree </3 rintaro is going through a lot and it honestly goes two ways – it’s either he does worse things to cope, or he completely shuts down and forgets everything that happened. I’m not sure which one I prefer…

[monards]

Actually wait because of that Dove Alicia Magnolia ask now I kind of want to see what your rankings on Beauford Albedo and Mint are. They're all such good boys it's so hard 😭I'm sorry

THESPIAN. I THOUGHT I COULD TRUST YOU. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Ok. But really now. Here are the ULTIMATE rakings for my three favorite guys. Because theyre the onlu guys ever actuallly okay shh

3. Albedo (sorry albedo) honestly. i love albedo very much. do not get me wrong. he is such a sweet boy and i would knit him a blanket if i could. But I also think compared to the other two,, im not as emotionally attached to him; if you asked me this question like. a year ago he'd absolutely be on top. but thats also because over a year ago i hadn't played silver thread or symbiosis. so. woe is me albedo'ss story is soooo near and dear to me. like, i love how he's being set up to have this huge divide between love and knowledge. And I will ABSOLUTELY eat that up when it happens. but sadly, a certain company hasn't given him more than like a smidgen of screentime in a very long time, so i think a lot of my fixation on him has dwindled :(

2. Beafford I love beaford. he is just. so funny. he's a college dropout; he likes anime; he forces alicia to watch anime; he cosplays; he has a cat keychain that resembles himself; he left home without saying anything; hes really intelligent but acts stupid. What can you NOT love about him?? (besides his horrific taste in fashion.) I think his personality is also very important to me. Because obviously he's not the most serious person. at all. But he can still convey how smart he is; I.E the way he was able to in the moment find a way to back up Alicia and also the Chinese room experiment. Maybe I'm just a big fan of characters who are smart and dont have it as their entire character; but I think thats just SO near and dear to me. He also clearly has some stuff going on considering his few mentions around his family. So I'm glad he got to come and (against his will) work with Alicia :)

mmint I think mint deserves this spot for a lot of reasons. One, magnolia is his mother so I am just slightly impartial. But also because two, hes so horribly sweet and tragic and kind that he KILLS me. Mint lives in the forest his whole life and is told explicitly to not go out into civilization. Does he want to live in the city and go to school? yes. and does he voice this? hardly. why? because he knows it makes magnolia sad. and he doesnt want to see his mom said. Mint meets lady in forest who looks the age of his mom, and said lady tells him his mom is evil. His initial response? He knows. He knows magnolia is evil. he already knows magnolia is a murderer. but he knows magnolia loves him and he loves him mom. so its okay. (In ending B) not a horribly long time later; same women shows up in his room at an unholy hour and within the next hour the SAME women has a gun to his moms head, which is clearly making his mom very distressed. within 5 minutes he finds out this women is his moms ex-wife. within that same 5 minute period his mom disappears and tells him to treat this women like his mom. A couple years later he comes back to the house and we find out he could never bring himself to call dove mom. He also finds out his mom kept all his drawings. Tears are streaming down my face.

[sleepingmire]

Omg Hiiii! Thank you for answering!!!!!

(I'm sliding back in your dms for some best girl Jules content)

do you have some writing or some art for her planned? ( i swear i saw a fic about her and tyr on ao3)

Also what are her relationship with characters like Freya, Sindri, Thor etc?

YOOOOO!! best anon in the world hello omg !! dude feel free to slide in anytime – these asks give me life ngl

HNGNG there was a fic that I wrote and I did keep posted for a while. It was called ‘No Light No Light’ after the f+tm song (it’s very jules and tyr coded, especially their early marriage and also it’s just a banger song in general). But I don’t know, I wrote it while I was stuck in a really bad writing rut, to try and kick myself out of it? And tbh I kinda hated it so I took it down :”))) Although, I was thinking about rewriting it/continuing it! It follows how Jules and Tyr met, and like the relationship between the Aesir and the Olympians? Which I feel like could be interesting.

As for upcoming fics and art!! Hmm.. I am currently working on a COD fic that i'm really excited about, so it'll probably be a little while before I get any jules fics out -- altho i guess it depends on what you wanna see?? But in terms of art, my uni term has just ended so im finally having time to get back into it! I want to draw her again because by the gods i miss her :')) she is so lovely to me

Okay so this is going to be a pretty long one, so the rest is under the cut.

OHOHOH cracks knuckles let me tell you

______

Heimdall -- he was a little boy when Jules and Tyr just got married, and since his mother wasn't in the picture, she def mothered him alot. Doted on him, calling him her 'little magpie' because he liked her jewellery. Although, as he grew up Odin obvs wanted him to be a certain way, and esp with Odin and tyr's disagreements, jules and tyr would spend time away form the aesir gods. This created some mad issues between her and heimdall as he grew up, especially as he started being alot like Odin/the heimdall we know, he could see with his powers that in her mind she was starting to dislike the person he was becoming. But even to this day, she still viewed him as her boy, and it was actually her unconditional love/trust that got her captured !

(for some backstory, tyr was captured and imprisioned by Odin. And Odin, being actually kind of a smart dude even if he is a pos, is like ?? ayo?? Hmm maybe let's not let his Olympian (scary strong) wife who very much loves him be running around on the loose, especially is she thinks i killed him. So what if we capture her?? ((he didnt want to kill her because u know how when Olympians die it like, wreaks havoc??)) and so he basically send heimdall to be like, 'hey!! im so sorry about being distant but tyr is this way come on!' and lead to Odin, who was disguised as tyr, and when she jumped into his arms he like, put magic cuffs/collar thing that makes her not be able to use her magic? and imprisoned her somewhere in musphelheim (hot hot place for hot hot lady who, if she died or escaped, couldn't use her powered to melt/destroy shit)

After she gets out, she misses/hurts/greives him but also like, understands that he was kind of a shit person, even if it wasn’t entirely his fault.

*

Sif -- Slay besties for real. Espeically once she settled in, I feel like she'd easily fall into pace beside sif, espeically since (at that time) neither of them had kids. Very much like, real houswives of the Aesir kinda energy except they are all judging everyone else together. I feel like they'd both be pretty interested in like, each other's country's versions of femininty? Like, how sif is the embodiment of being a woman in norse and Aphrdoite (jules) is also like, peak feminitny (kinda) in greek mythos.

After ragnarok I think her and jules would be working together to rebuild, and she would be hella empathetic? Especially since for the last like century or whatever she believed her own husband (who she loved dearly) to be dead. And like, thor while a pos dad and an asshole, sif loved him?? And he loved her?? And they really did try?? Idk I feel like jules would help take care of her because she knows what that’s like.

*

Thor -- at least in these games, seems very women respect-y. I feel like he'd respect her and almost kind of admire her/like her more than his brother? Tyr is a little bit uppity (at least from thors perspective) and jules is a bit more >:)) commit crimes and cause problems on purpose. In saying that though, I feel like they'd probably never be too close and mainly would spend time together because of Tyr/Sif.

*

Freya -- her and freya used to be besties, they both kinda knew what it was like to be the outsider (?) wife from a different place. But both freya and jules are both super stubborn/bull headed, and esp when it came down to baulder. That's when freya said something to her (to be fair, in freya's defence jules was probably way overstepping even if it came from a place of care/kind of what happened between herself and heimdal) she held a grudge in typical olympian fashion.

*

Sindri/Brok -- I think that maybe she didn't interact with them too much? I'd like to thing though that maybe her and Sindri got along better than say, her and brok. I imagine that maybe one time she helped them forge something using her sunpowers, like a cool weapon or something maybe as a gift for tyr. Otherwise, they are on good terms. Also, I think especially due to the fact that like, craftsman ship was a very admired/masculine thing in greek life, maybe she'd have a bit of admiration for their craft?/the dwarves in general. Appreciating the fact that while they make very good weapons/structures/devices etc, they also make them beautiful.

_____

Hmm... I'm trying to think of some other people that she interacted with. OH HAHA there's a running joke in my friend group where like, Freyr is Jule's and Tyr's third (mainly because I think he's handsome but whatever) And i feel like, especially as jules has no real internal fealty to the Aesir apart from Tyr, who himself is always kinda teetering on a blades edge, she tends to appreciate/befriend people even outside of their 'allies' kinda thing. (This wily willful nature maybe also pissed Odin off, who was expecting like, maybe someone like Harmonia)

Also here are some bonus teehees and bits about tyr n jules specifically because they are little running jokes and make me teehee a bit:

Tyr, early on in their marriage when things were still a bit shaky between them and jules was taking out her frustrations/fear on him, he tried to take her to Vanaheim as a cute little like, date thing? also to get her out of Asgard. Anyway, him being a dork nerd was like 'BY MY BEARD, JULIUS!! look at these wonderful specime--' and then the flower like, exploded colour all over her dress, staining it and she was HELLA pissed. And then, a few days later he tried to buy her a bouquet of vanaheim flowers as an apology, and they were also. pollen staining ones. Let's just say he slept on the couch for a few days after that.  Now everytime they go to Vanaheim together she treats him like a child at a grocery store -- hands INSIDE the trolley, look with your eyes not your hands, PUT THAT DOWN!! YOURE NOT GETTING THAT put it back !

ALSO ! theres a running joke that Tyr has like, water-proof journals (so his tears dont make the ink run) he writes into like a tween girl everytime jules is 'mean' to him. 'dear diary, today my beloved light-of-my-life jules called me a dork and said that the french toast i made her was 'alright'. I will never recover.' followed by a page of poetry about how his beloved has betrayed him.

He feeds her well is all im saying. Mans can cook and shes sitting on the bench holding the bowl.

also jules funfact of the ask -- her name is Julius (roman/latin)/jules because its cute, but like her greek name is ιουλος (ioulos). I mainly chose the name jules despite it being hella inaccurate because 1) it's cute as hell and the nickname is cute and 2) idc that it's inaccurate, she's not real and plus it's my meow meow oc and i get to make the rules... also i dont really love alot of male greek names :')) (She was born a boy! And probably aligns more with genderfluid but mainly fem lady girlboss, she's a shapechanger becuase hmmm Aphrodite powers and also i said so)

Anyway im gonna end this up with a Spotify link to her playlist because !! I listened to it almost exclusively for like, 8 months so yeah. Love that gal.

thank you best anon in the world for letting my ramble abt my baby girl for 1.5k

[anzuhan]

Do you have any 00 characters you like, aside from the innovades and the Trinitys?

yes and im sorry i dont really talk about them or draw them (only sometimes) 😭 i posted a tierlist awhile back & i have no idea where it is . so i will just talk about everything here now :) it will probably be VERY long so i am putting it under a read more. also this will be full of spoilers but i guess that makes sense <- saying if anyone stumbles upon it & is still watching

edit its super long 🙏🙏🙏🙏 HOPE YOU ENJOY READING

my absolute favorites besides the innovades (trinities included) are neil and chris! i did draw neil a few more times than anyone else thats not an innovade, and sadly only drew chris once for her bday 😭 IVE REALLY GOT TO DRAW HER MORE shes so cute and fun to draw..

my opinions of neil were very rocky at the start and i didnt like him AND IT WASNT EVEN HIS FAULT 😭 i first played dwg3 before watching anything gundam related at all (and then started by watching 00); i didnt know which lockon stratos was in dwg3 but he was kind of annoying to me </3 and because i couldnt tell them apart i just supposed it was neil and hereby disliked him 😭 well . that one was lyle but i found that out later ... thruout s1 i slowly got to like neil more and more and by s1 finale i was absolutely crushed . my opinions on tieria may also be foreverchanging, but one thing we share for sure is that we hated neil till he died then just didnt anymore </3

chris i liked a lot from the beginning because of how easygoing and nice she was with everyone, and in more ways than one she reminded me of myself 🥺 i also dont really see very often characters that like coding or technical stuff & are extroverted & like fashion so this felt like a win for me.. finally... some representation (real). this all and her whole thing with weekly crushes is so 😭😭 when she first saw johann and got a pic with him IMMEDIATELY and thought he was hot n then got sad that he was evil and fucked up was so me 🙏 so with how much chris meant to me & how they basically replaced her with mileina that i do not like for variety of reasons was my personal 9/11 for this anime

now besides these two i also hold quite literally majority of all characters in high regard. i love patrick a lot for being funniest guy around & kati his not bayonetta badass wife ... i dont usually do shipping but theyre really so cute together i always go 🥺🥺🥺 when they were just happy together. saji and louise too !!!! the whole story with how their relationship changed and evolved was so great and i was hooked. marie is absolutely one of my favorites in terms of backstory & the peak of s2 to me (yes ... despite the innovators because i didnt like a lot of handling of them 😭) — i really didnt care all that much about soma in s1 and then they elevated that so hard in s2. i am not a person that holds family things in high regard due to my own personal bad experiences, but besides her backstory with allelujah, the scenes between her and becoming smirnov's family were always so dear to me whenever we got them 🥺 this was also really just from a little side thing of the extra s2 chibi animation, but that scenario of them all taking a trip to heaven and marie making andrei talk to his parents and them getting all together was so sweet as well i love loved that one ...

despite it all, i also truly believe graham is best boy of the entire 00 series. this guys so peak i dont even know where to begin; the bond between him and his other squadron members was so good. it was a real shame they kind of had to go 😭 his love for the flags was also so real... and this guys VERY good at what hes doing, like my guy could fight off whole gundams with gn drives in some far underdeveloped flags. i know some people didnt like the turn they went for with him in s2 where he became weeb supreme but i thought it was so funny 🙏 MR BUSHIDO LOVE. he also got a super cool custom ms so i gotta give it to him ... all & all as well, this guy then sacrificed himself, died a hero, and was so cool he just came back to life to become a new meister. how can any other guy in this beat THAT ☝️

for the rest of meisters, i am sorry everyone. i did not care about setsuna that much </3 i acknowledge him and his greatness and how much hes helped multiple people here, but whenever they just wanted to mirror setsuna and saji i always ended up being more interested in saji im sorry 😭 ; allelujah is a little guy i just felt sorry for the entire time for literally everything . all the way from the start from the debacle with tieria that was so crazy to the hallelujah struggles to then having to also struggle with soma 😭 this guys just the real struggler. the supreme struggler of all time. i hope he gets some rest he really needs it asap ; lyle i used to not like because of . how he even started off in the scene with feldt </3 AND I LOVE FELDT like get ur hands off her omg ... but he did grow from then and i think hes pretty epic now, him killing off ali was also super satisfying in the end of it all :)

for the rest of ptolemy, talked briefly about feldt above, i think shes great but also her changing crushes between meisters was so funny 😭 like you go girlie i guess ... ! she tried her best . her holding the crew in such high regards as her own family was very wholesome 🥺 LICHTY 😭 lichty was so funny too and. well. LIKE I GET IT i get the drama that went down in s1 but i wish it didnt have to end like that skllwmegj😭😭😭😭 i wish theyd just have a near death experience and then him and chris could just get to be happy together after but i guess not 😔 sumeragi & kati's intertwined backstories we got to know more of thru s2 were really cool to see, and billy's love for her punched me and kicked me into a wall. this man loved her SO much its unreal . hes such a good guy 😭 (which it kind of ticks me off he ended up with mina ........... LIKE COULD YOU GUYS NOT FIND A MORE NORMAL PERSON FOR HIM 😭 i think he deserved better but thats just my personal opinion ... im sure theres a lot of people out there who want mina right NOW and would disagree. so this ones for u guys . if u think shes epic and cool then i guess he got peak ! good for him) ; other unmentioned members i had no real big opinion on 😭😭😭😭 i sometimes even forget lasse exists i am sorry . hes done nothing wrong just left absolutely no opinion on me ��‍♀️

now im not gonna detail THE REST as well but again i literally hold everyone in high or at least neutral regard from ali to whatever the name of the a-laws blond evil guy was im sorry 🙏 the only two i can even say i dislike in the slightest are mileina and alejandro 😭 which is such a duo out of every character in this to tie together . i know . but yeah i hope you enjoyed the sumi rambles 00 NO INNOVADES edition 👍👍 i tried to be as true to myself and my opinions as possible so heres all of them . on paper. digital tumblr paper