#moon is soo beautiful

[manincaffeine]

JUST ME,HER AND THE MOON 🌕

FULL MOON 25.02.2024

[starfall-isle]

I just think when a series has 0 fat characters in it you should get 2 do whatever you want with them at that point

[mrsoharaa]

the moon is sooo so pretty tonight! so full and bright and enchantingly elegant! 🌙💗

[ltslyn]

LOLL

[marymekpop]

⟢ scenes & themes: joseon attorney - absolute cinema [ep. 01-08] ⟣

[joon4jun]

Whether its only one moon in the sky and saying you are also only one for me or the moon looks beautiful tonight Or wish we are also like those two moons always together, Moon is always romantic.

[sagittarious-swiftie]

[nitunio]

Ryou's "I love you" to Momo....

[sluttysnowangel666]

His Second Wife - cregan stark x reader (request)

summary: two years following the death of cregan’s first wife, he accepts an undesired marriage proposal to rhaenyra targaryen’s daughter. rhaenyra’s daughter, who had loved cregan the moment she first met him as a young girl, immediately loves and accepts cregan’s first child as her own. yet it is still not enough for cregan to find his own love for his new wife.

cw: mean cregan😓, widow!cregan, targ!reader, loss of virginity(reader), rhaenyra’s daughter, angst to fluff, unrequited love, sex, happy ending

do yall notice i always post a long ass story usually around midnight or later ( i’m unwell)also this is long af soz it was a detailed request and I wanted it to be to a T. this is SOO long. i prolly should have done two parts… oh well @lillithsalvatore hope you enjoy it love ❤️

“How do you feel, my love?” Your mother asked, placing a warm and comforting hand on yours.

You sighed. “Nervous.”

She gave you that warm and sweet smile of hers. “I know. I hope you know this choice was not easy for me to make, as I know this was a hard task for me to place upon you.”

“I know, mother.” You say with forgiveness, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Had it been any other lord I would have surely declined but… Starks are the most honorable among men. I know your union will be blessed by the gods.”

You give her a smile, blindly trusting her words. You had met him once, and you knew he was kind. In fact, he had left a paw shaped imprint on your heart. You thought to yourself no union could be more suitable. You knew he had married once before out of a prior marital alliance, but the marriage had been short lived, lasting only a year before his first wife died in her birthing chambers.

It took more than four moons before you arrived at Winterfell, as if every power in the world was set on preventing it. You were not a superstitious person, so you simply thought all the bad things that happened prior to your marriage was coincidence.

Each time you went to leave, something prevented you. Your mother miscarried your baby sister, Lucerys was killed by Aemond, Daemon went silent at Harrenhall, Rhaena ran away and was lost in the eyrie before revealing she claimed Sheep-stealer.

You arrived in the dead of winter, and the journey had not been kind to you. You got a chill on the way up, causing you to stop at an inn for a few nights, you had came across raiders who killed one of the many men escorting you, and your clothes were ill suited for the weather.

You did eventually arrive at Winterfell thankfully, all in one piece.

You stepped out of the carriage cautiously, eyeing the snowy landscape surrounding you. It went as far as the eye could see. You held your hand out, letting the thick snowflakes fall and melt in your hand.

“My princess.” You turn to see Cregan, walking towards you. He bows, forcing a politeness. “Winterfell is yours.”

You bow in return, “No need for such formalities, Lord Stark. This is your home, and I am honored to have you welcome me here.”

He nods, choosing to say nothing else to you.

“Please show the princess to her chambers.” He says to one of the servants, then immediately turning on his heels to leave. Your jaw falls slightly, surprised at his curt demeanor.

You compose yourself, trying to hide the slight hurt in your features before making your way to your private chambers.

You bathed immediately, welcoming the hot water against your skin. No water could be hot enough for your dragon blood, but what they had drawn up for you would do nicely.

Your wedding was a week after your arrival, the lord having given you time to settle in. You had not seen him much during that week so you chose not to bother him, assuming he was busy with duties.

When you walked down that snowy path to the red weirwood, Cregan stole a glance at you. You looked beautiful, and he felt horribly guilty for thinking it. He felt like what he was doing was betraying her.

You said your vows, swearing your love before the old gods. You smiled at Cregan and he gave you a forced one in return. Guilt wracked his whole body. He felt guilty for you, knowing he wouldn’t be able to give you a union where you were loved, he felt guilty for liking your smile, he felt guilty for forgetting hers.

There was a feast following the ceremony, nothing large due to the pains of winter, but it didn’t bother you. The small gathering felt intimate, compared to southern weddings where lords and ladies travelled from all over the realm to witness it.

It was here you met Cregan’s son, Rickon.

“Hi, little one.” You said. He was only two, a fat little babe who looked just like Cregan.

“Rickon, this is my new wife.” Cregan said. The way he worded it made you twitch, it had sounded so strained. He didn’t even use your name. You told the boy the name he could call you, but he said nothing as he hid behind his father’s leg.

“I apologize.” Cregan said, his voice showing no sign that he actually was sorry.

“It is alright, my lord. He is just a babe. He and I will have time to get to know each other.” You said. Cregan tensed up, suddenly remembering again this union was forever.

“Excuse me, princess.” He said, turning and walking away with Rickon. Your heart sunk a bit. You could start to sense it now, Cregan was not in the slightest invested in your union together. You felt lost, out of place suddenly.

You sat back down at the high table, overwhelmed with nervousness. You bit at your nails and the skin around them, biting until they bled. You missed your mother dearly. Being here, in this room among strangers who didn’t care much for southerners to begin with, made you feel small.

You had sat there for an hour or two, not moving or eating once, save for your cuticles.

Cregan came to you, not noticing your nervous state. If he had noticed, he chose to ignore it. “I’ve put Rickon down… Would you please accompany me to my chambers?”

You looked at him, the nail bed of your thumb resting between your teeth. You nodded, standing and staring at the hall one last time. You locked eyes with a man, who noticed you both about to take your leave.

“Is it time for the bedding ceremony, Lord Stark?” The man asked, erupting a few cheers from the men mostly.

“No!” Cregan nearly barked the order. “There will be no bedding ceremony.”

The men in the crowd shuffled awkwardly at his outburst but accepted.

“Princess.” Cregan said, walking away and not waiting to see if you were following.

You did anyway, struggling to keep up with his quick pace. You had the sense he wanted this to be over with quickly.

He held the door as you both entered his chambers. You took in your surroundings. It was a clean and large kept room with a lit hearth and a large bed. A thought passed your mind, even though you tried to push it down.

Did he share these chambers with her?

Cregan began to take off his armor and furs, again not watching to see if you did the same, only assuming you were. If you weren’t, he didn’t care.

“Um, could you help, my lord?” You asked, referring to the laces of your white wedding dress.

He sighed, walking over to you as you turned your back to him. Your eyes welled with tears, but you tried to hide it.

His hands were gentle with the laces, not tugging at them as you expected him to. He obviously had experience doing this before.

He grew emotional as he undid your dress, but he hid it well. It was a weird sense of deja vu. Your hair looked like hers from the back and he felt like he was back at his first wedding.

You pushed the dress off, revealing the sheer linen soft dress underneath. He hadn’t moved from behind you, trying to maintain his composure. You walked away from him, lying on the bed and biting your nails again.

He finished disrobing besides his briefs, and you stole a glance at his back. It was huge, muscular and scarred.

He walked over to the bed, getting between your legs and pushing up your shift.

“Is this alright with you, princess?” He asks. “We need not consummate this if you are not ready.”

For the first time it seemed like he kinda cared about how you felt. His hand still had a hold of your shift, which was resting on your pelvic bone.

You nodded, “Is it alright with you, Lord Stark?”

He nodded, pushing your shift up the rest of the way to reveal your chest. He wanted to fall on his sword for the way he kept stealing glances at your breasts.

He pushed his briefs down, and you choked on your breath at the reveal of his length.

“Oh, gods.” You mumbled under your breath.

He rubbed himself against your slit, and your heart stilled for a minute. The feeling was foreign and intense.

He gently grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from your mouth. You hadn’t even realized you were still doing it, it was starting to become like breathing. A natural, unintentional habit.

Your hands fell to his biceps to steady yourself. You looked at him, but he did not meet your gaze. He instead bowed his head, watching himself enter inside you.

You dug your nails into his arm, gasping in shock. He gently shushed you, telling you it was okay.

“Please, please.” You said, not knowing what you were even pleading for.

“What?” He asked gently, his voice low and almost mimicking of your whining. It sent a shiver up your spine.

He was slow and gentle with you, not in it for any pleasure himself.

You touched his chest and his hair and his arms, and while he didn’t stop you he made no effort to touch you himself. His hands rested beside your head, holding up his weight.

Your hands found his arms again and you moaned softly, feeling your peak building in your stomach. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead to his head, moaning as you spilled onto him. He closed his eyes as he felt it, and guilt wracked him again.

He gently pulled out of you and stood up, immediately dressing himself into his nightwear. You pushed your shift back down and pulled the linen covers over you, immediately going back to biting your nails at his reaction.

He laid beside you, not facing you and not saying anything.

You said nothing, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed how he intentionally avoided spilling himself into you.

———

It had been 3 months since your arrival to Winterfell, and you had adjusted as well as you could given the circumstances.

You did not often see your lord husband, but you were used to it. He spent a lot of his free time in the crypt where she was. It hurt, but you gave him his peace and he appreciated that you didn’t hover.

“Mummy!”

“Sh, sh, love.” You say as Rickon runs into your chambers.

Cregan did not like when Rickon called you his mother. He’d gotten upset with you a few times over it, and you assured him you would correct Rickon when it happened.

“Mummy.” He repeated. You giggled. pulling him into your lap. You shook your head and tapped his nose, saying, “Nooo. Not mummy.”

“Mummy.” He laughed, and you ran your fingers through his thick brown curls.

“What ever will we do with this mop on your head, my son?”

“He is not your son.” You turned to see Cregan standing in the door way. “And his hair is fine.”

“Apologies, my lord.” You said, curtly. He ignored your attitude.

“Come, Rickon.” He said, beckoning his son.

“No, mummy.” Rickon whined, holding you.

“Go see papa.” You told him, and with your blessing Rickon ran to Cregan.

Cregan gave you a cold stare as he left, and you returned the favor.

You were growing ever so agitated with your husband. He had welcomed you into Winterfell, but not his heart. The only time you both had shared a bed was the night of your wedding, to which Cregan had made sure not to give you an heir.

You had no one. Rickon had you, Cregan had you even if he did not want you, yet you were alone here in Winterfell.

You decided to write to your mother on Dragonstone, requesting for Jacaerys to pick you up on dragon back so you could visit your family and hopefully receive advice. You had left your dragon, Silverwing, at home. You did not want to disrespect the already hesitant northern people, and you did not want Silverwing to be cold or hungry.

That night when you were brushing your hair before bed, there was a knock on your door.

“Come in.” You looked in the mirror and saw Cregan’s half sister, Sara, enter.

“Hi, Sara.” You said. She came up behind you, taking the brush from your hand and slowly combing it through your hair. You two had formed a unique bond, given you were both considered outcasts in Winterfell. You were a southerner, she was a bastard. They were two sides of the same coin here in Winterfell.

“I heard what happened today.” She said, and you hummed mindlessly. “My brother can be a bastard.”

You smiled at her in the mirror. “Is that so?”

She nods. “I wish I knew what to do, Sara.”

“We northerners love hard, princess. We are unwaveringly loyal. The wound of losing Aly is still fresh in my brother’s heart. Give him time. He knows you love Rickon, and that scares him. I don’t know why.”

“Was Aly pretty?” You ask.

“You have a southern beauty we do not see often in the North. Aly was not a beautiful woman, but she was a fierce fighter. That is how history will remember her. She was born fighting, and she died fighting. I know you are a fierce fighter as well, princess. You are the blood of the dragon. Do not let the grief my brother holds make you feel small.” She kisses the back of your head. “Throw a fucking book at his head if he acts like that again.”

You laugh, her joke comforting you. She turns and leaves you alone, your head clouded with thoughts of Aly.

You heard back from Jacaerys within a few days that he would arrive shortly to bring you home. You had not yet told Cregan, as you knew he wouldn’t care anyway.

A few days following the letter from the raven, it was Sara’s name day. Cregan had decided to celebrate with a feast, one bigger than your wedding.

You all sat at the high table, your husband and sister in law drinking heavily. Although Cregan was a big man, the amount of ale he consumed that night seemed enough to kill a horse.

“My princess.” A servant rested her hand on your shoulder. You and Cregan both turned to look at her, and she grew nervous, not expecting Cregan to pay any attention or perhaps she would not have asked the princess the request. “Rickon has had a nightmare and wants no comfort of the maids. He is requesting you by name specifically, princess.”

You turn to look at Cregan for his approval. He gives a quick nod, which you hadn’t expected. Perhaps he only obliged since Rickon had requested you by your name, rather than requesting his “mother.”

You walked with the maid to his chambers, opening the door.

“Mummy.” He said through sniffles. You turned to face the maid.

“I thought he requested me by my name.” You said.

“That is your name, princess… to him.” The maid closed the door.

You turn to face Rickon with a gentle sigh. “You know papa doesn’t like that word.”

“Mummy.” He just says again. You walk to his bed, fitting yourself in to lay with him. He cuddles into your chest, and you play with his hair to help him sleep.

“Say it okay.” He says.

“Hm? What do you mean, child?” You ask.

“She say it okay to call you mummy.”

“Who?”

“Mummy did.”

“No, you have to call me my name, sweet boy.”

“Not you, mummy. My other mummy said it okay.”

“You confuse me, Rickon.”

“Mummy says ignore papa.” You chuckle softly.

“Sleep now, my love.” You say, and he slowly falls asleep while you hum him a soft song.

You rise, tucking him in and giving his head a kiss.

You open his door to return to the feast, and Cregan is there waiting.

You gasp, covering your mouth quickly to not wake Rickon.

“Gods, you scared me!” You whisper/yell at him. He says nothing, his eyes in a glossy and drunken haze.

You close the door, nearly standing chest to chest with him.

“I heard you sing to him.” He says softly. “Where did you learn that song?”

“He taught me it.” You say, as you go to step past him when he stops you.

“Cregan?” You say confused, turning to look up at him.

He takes your cheeks in your hands and slams his lips on yours. You freeze for a second in shock, before immediately returning the kiss. He presses you against the door, and you moan into him as you quickly grow wet with Cregan’s sudden change of behavior.

He moves to press gentle kisses on your neck, biting softly here and there. His fingers dig into your hips, grinding himself into you. You moan softly, trying not to cause too much noise against the door.

“Not here.” You moan. He avoids your eyes, taking your hand and pulling you further down the hall to his chambers. It was only your second time in his room. He lifted you into his strong arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing you against the wall.

You both hadn’t even undressed, but you loved the thrill. Your husband finally wanted you after three long grueling months. He pushed your dress up to your waist as you unlaced his breeches.

He took you there against the wall of his chambers, fucking you so sweetly, fucking you in a way that would surely produce an heir.

Your moans filled the halls, and the servants began to spread word that the lord had finally moved on from his first wife.

He carried you to the bed, placing you along the edge as he stood, fucking you with sloppy and drunken thrusts.

You moaned his name, both of you drawing so close to your peak as your hands rested against his stomach. He leaned closed to you as hand moved beside your head to hold his weight, and the other moved under your lower back to lift you slightly off the bed and pull you more into him. The angle sent you over the edge, crying and moaning his name.

Your moans pushed him over, but his next words made you sick.

“Fuck, Alysanne.” He groaned, burying his head in your neck and spilling his seed into you.

You gasped, not even sure you heard him right.

He kissed your neck a few times and then rolled off you, not noticing the look on your face.

You laid there unmoving, still in your dress which was now damp with sweat, and your thighs now sticky with Cregan.

He fell asleep the second his head hit his pillow, still in his clothes.

You choked back a sob, moving your hand to your mouth so he wouldn’t waken. In reality, you could’ve started screaming and he wouldn’t have woke, or even shuffled.

You exited his chambers, trying not to be sick on the way to yours.

“My sister!” Sara drunkenly yelled as she seen you in the hallway. She took notice of your disheveled dress and hair. “Oh my gods, did you and Cregan just…?”

You ignored her, but she noticed the tears on your face. “Wait, sister what is wrong? What happened?”

You slammed the door in her face, throwing yourself into your pillow and screaming.

—

“Mother would be furious if she knew you were sleeping this well past sunrise.”

You groaned, lifting your head from the pillow to find the voice in the room.

“Jacaerys?” You said, when your eyes landed on him.

“I take it the feast for Sara Snow was a success.” He says, making fun of you. Your hair was sticking to your face, wet with a mixture of tears and drool.

“I guess you could say that.” You said, wiping your hair to the side.

“You’re disgusting.” He says.

“Gods, five minutes you’ve been here and you already frustrate me! Get out!” You say, both of you immediately teasing and arguing like you had never left home.

You push him out of your room.

“Don’t touch me, wench!” He whines, smacking your arms.

“Piss off! Go harass the bloody Lord of Winterfell.”

“I’d rather harass the Lady.” You push him out of your doors, turning and pressing your back to slide down the wall.

You hear him knock again and you rise to your feet, angry. “Jace, I said-“

You don’t finish your sentence, since as you open the door it’s Sara.

“I wanna talk about last night.”

“I don’t.” You say, going to close the door on her before she pushes it back open.

“What happened?” She asks, angry. She closes the door behind her and follows you to the bed. You sit on the edge and rest your elbows on your thighs, burying your face in your hands.

“Did my brother hurt you?” She asks, worried.

“No, no.”

She rests on her knees in front of you, placing her hands on your knees. “Tell me what happened.”

You sigh, trying to hold back your tears, but you cannot. “We had sex.”

“Isn’t that good? What went wrong?”

“He called me Alysanne.” You sob out.

“Oh, no.” She says, moving to sit beside you and wrap her arms around you.

“I cannot stay here no longer, Sara. I am being haunted by Alysanne. I find letters she wrote to Cregan, her clothes, her weapons. Rickon thinks I am her and Cregan wishes I was.”

“I am sorry, princess.” She says, sadly. “I thought I knew my brother better than that… Perhaps, if you talk to him about these past few months things can be different. Just give it a try, yes? You have your brother here now. You can leave if things do not work and the marriage can be annulled.”

You did not even wish to think of that possibility. It would be so shameful for both of your houses. You would do everything in your power to make it work.

You cleaned yourself up and went to Cregan’s chambers, knowing he would be hungover.

And you were right.

You entered his room without knocking, finding him in a bath with a warm rag over his eyes. Three times now you’ve been in his chambers.

“You can set it on the table.” He says, not moving the rag.

“What?”

“Oh.” He says, his voice changing in tone. “I thought you were the maid.”

You say nothing, unsure of where to even begin.

“Can whatever you’ve barged into my chambers for wait until I am done.” He asks, only the question is more of a statement.

“No.” You say, angry. You walk over to him and pull the rag off his eyes. He squints at the brightness, then gagging on the air as if he might be sick. “We’re going to talk, Cregan. We’ve been married for months and I don’t think we’ve ever truly had a conversation once. It is all I am asking. You could at least give me that. You’ve given me the cold shoulder for three months, and I’m tired of it. I’ve helped raise your son, I’ve loved you and I’ve cared for you even when you didn’t want it. You owe this to me.”

He sighs, defeated. “You are right in that, my princess. I apologize. We can talk later, alright?”

“No, Cregan. We will talk now.”

“You wouldn’t rather talk when I am of a clear headspace?”

“No. Now.” You say. He sighs again.

“Say your piece.”

The words left your mind the second he said that. You had this conversation in your head many times before, but now it was here and you could not handle the heat of the moment.

He raised his eyebrow at you, as if you were dumb.

“Oh, do not do that. I thought you Starks were supposed to be the most honorable among men. This whole marriage I have been treated with everything but. You are a disrespectful man, Stark. I am truly sorry about Alysanne-“

“Do not speak to me about my wife, ever!” He yells, pointing at you.

“I am your wife!” You cry out. “You chose me, whether you were ready for another marriage or not! I left my home, my family, my dragon to be with you! If I cannot have your love, is it too much to ask for your fucking respect?!”

He goes quiet for a few moments, “You have always had my respect, princess… and I know I have erred in the way I’ve treated you these past moons. But this marriage is just a duty. Nothing more, nothing less. This marriage is not out of love… so do not expect me to love you back.”

You laugh, dryly. “You called me Alysanne last night… Do you remember that? No… I suppose you were too drunk. You never would have touched or cared for me like that sober.”

He says nothing, but his hands grip the side of the tub and his face is contorted with anger. You rise, hiding any sort of emotion on your face.

“The dead don’t need lovers. Only the living.” You said. He threw his rag at the door as you walked out, not even granting him a second glance.

The memories of last night flooded back to him, and he rested his face in his hands, crying at his behavior. He had let down Aly, his son, and you.

He did care about you, he did love you in his own way. He just didn’t know how to show it. He didn’t want to show it. If he had shown it, he only would have betrayed Aly even more.

You went down to the crypt, somewhere you had never gone before. You had no reason originally, no people to mourn.

You stood in front of her plot, staring at the statue of her. She had been a skinny girl, with long dark hair and ‘plain’ features. You thought she was a beauty in her own way. You saw why Cregan loved her.

You cried. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help him.”

Your hand touched her statue, then you stood and left the crypt.

You said goodbye to Rickon, Sara, and then you left with your brother on dragon back, ready to be home with your true family.

———

“You’re a fucking fool, brother.”

“You think I don’t know that? Gods.” Cregan rested his head in his hands. He had sent every raven in Winterfell to Dragonstone, yet not one had responded in the weeks since you’d left.

“We’ll be lucky if the bloody queen doesn’t declare war on us for you scorning her daughter.”

“I am trying here, Sara! I’ve sent my ravens, I’ve sent men to retrieve her. There is nothing more I can do!”

Sara slammed her hands on the table. “Go and get her your bloody self, Cregan. The trip to Dragonstone will give you plenty of time for reflection.”

Sara turned to leave, and Cregan knew it was his only option of getting you back here. He would go and get you and make things right. He had to.

You had your own time for reflection, riding home with Jacaerys made you realize how much you missed being on dragon back.

Your mother of course welcomed you with open arms, but was wracked with guilt that you and Cregan’s union was not working. You paid it no mind however, spending your days patrolling Dragonstone on Silverwing.

Cregan had taken his horse and a few men to retrieve you from Dragonstone. The trip by horse was long, more than several weeks.

The entire time he rode in silence he thought of you. He thought of your last conversation and the final words you had said to him. The dead don’t need lovers. And you were right. Alysanne would not have wished to see him treat you how he had, she would not have wanted Cregan to spend his time sulking or being angry. He only wished he had realized it before he left.

He loved you. If only it hadn’t taken you leaving for him to realize. You were kind, gentle, beautiful. Traits Alysanne didn’t have but it was what seperated you from her. It had been how he was able to find his own kind of love for you, even when he didn’t consciously realize it yet. His own bitterness from losing Aly had made forget his honor.

Cregan arrived about two moons after you had left. He was aching, frustrated, and desperate by the time he reached Dragonstone.

It was dark, pouring rain, and you were playing with your brothers Viserys and Aegon when he arrived.

“Your Grace!” A knight came into the room shouting. Your mother looked up from her book. “Cregan Stark of Winterfell has arrived and requests an immediate audience with you and the princess.”

Your mother looked at you, and you looked like you’d seen a ghost. Your heart sank and your face went pale, but you nodded.

You met him inside the council chambers with your mother and his men. He was soaked, shivering. You could hear your heart beating in your ears, that was how nervous you were.

“Cregan.” You said, walking towards him and pushing him by his arms to the hearth to warm him up. It was another thing he loved about you, your protective nature, so he said it.

“I love you.”

“Cregan…”

“Love her?” You both looked at your mother, whose face was angry. “You love my daughter?”

“Your Grace.” Cregan said, removing his sword and bending his knee. “I’ve come to beg your forgiveness.”

She walked towards you both. “It is not mine you need to beg for… I sent my only daughter to you, and you spurn her for your dead wife?!”

“Mother!”

“You will not interrupt the Queen when she is speaking.” She commands you. “What do you have to say for yourself, Lord Stark?”

He stands. “I have nothing to say, Your Grace. You are right. My behavior was unacceptable. The princess deserved none of it.”

“Why are you here?” Your mother asks him.

“I’ve come to ask the princess to return home.” Your mother scoffs at him.

She looks at you, then back to him. “You are lucky it is not my decision to make.”

She turns and exits, leaving and commanding his men to wait outside the doors so you both could be alone.

You were even more nervous with just the two of you in there. It is silent for a few moments before you speak.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” You ask Cregan.

“It took you leaving for me to realize I love you.” He says, taking your hands in his. You roll your eyes, taking your hands back and stepping away.

“I can’t believe you.” You say, starting to sob.

“I know, I know.” He steps closer to you again, taking you in his arms as you cry into his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“I loved you, Cregan.” You say, crying. “Since I was a girl I loved you. I thought you were different from other men. But, you’re just like the rest.”

Cregan cries into your hair. “I’m so sorry, my princess. I’m so, so sorry.”

You both stand there, holding each other and crying.

“Please come home.” He says. “Let me take you home.”

“Rickon misses his mother, Sara misses her sister… I miss you, you my wife.”

You pull away to look at him, trying to read his normally stoic features. You can see he means it.

“Okay.”

———

You returned to Winterfell on Silverwing, no longer having the strength to remain apart from your dragon.

Cregan had to endure another long and grueling trip back to Winterfell, which you enjoyed knowing he was suffering while you road through the skies.

Rickon had cried tears of joy when you returned, and a week later when Cregan arrived Rickon cried again.

You and Cregan had remained in seperated chambers while you still navigated your marriage, but Cregan made a point to spend every moment of his free time with you.

But you had been keeping a secret from him.

After you returned home to Dragonstone originally, your blood never arrived. The maester determined you were with a babe, which would arrive several moons away in the dead of winter.

Your thick furs and dresses made it easier to hide from Cregan, as you were not ready to tell him.

The babe had complicated things. If you had not been pregnant, you might not have returned to Winterfell when Cregan came for you. But you knew you had a duty, and you believed if Cregan could love you then you could fix your union.

Cregan had indeed put the work in the second he arrived home. He attended to you, conversed with you, ate with you, laughed with you, but gave you the space you needed and gave you the option to be intimate with him when you were ready.

It was strangely like falling in love all over again. You blushed around each other, got nervous and flushed, made each other’s hearts race, shared a first kiss when you were both ready.

Cregan had undoubtedly fallen madly in love with you, and he regretted not taking the time to do it sooner. He couldn’t make up the time he lost being afraid. All he could do now was love you without guilt, love you without fear, love you without shame.

Normally Cregan always knocked on your chamber doors before entering, but for some reason this time he hadn’t. He didn’t know why he didn’t knock, he didn’t know if it happened unconsciously or if he was too busy wrapped up with his thoughts.

Either way, he entered without knocking and by that point the cat was out of the bag.

He said your name, greeting you with a smile, only for it to fall off his face as if it had never been there.

You were in the bath, relaxing in the burning water, but that wasn’t the problem. He’d seen you naked, although it hadn’t been for a few months by this point, but him accidentally invading your privacy wasn’t the problem either.

It was the bump in your belly that was a problem.

Your head turned sharply, covering your chest quickly. “Cregan!”

“Sorry.” He said quickly, turning around to avoid disrespecting you.

“It’s fine.” You said, dropping your arm from your chest. “You just gave me a fright.”

He said nothing for a moment, only continuing to face the wall.

“What is that?” He finally asked. You sighed, stepping out of the tub and into your robe.

You walked up behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to face you now, and his eyes fell down to your other hand resting on the small bump in your stomach.

“Perhaps it’s time we talk.”

“You think?” He spits at you, immediately apologizing after. “I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to be cross with you.”

You said nothing, walking over to the seats by the hearth hoping he would follow.

He did, and he sat next to you, his eyes never leaving your belly.

“Can I?” He asked, gesturing to your stomach. You nodded, untying your robe so that you were bare. You grabbed his hand, bringing it to the small bump.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have accommodated for you, made sure you were comfortable.”

“Truth be told it’s been hard for me to accept I’m truly with a child.” You say, “The reality had not set in until… well until you just now found out... I am sorry, Cregan. I should not have kept it from you.”

He chokes back a sob. “Feels like just yesterday Alysanne had Rickon.”

“He will be overjoyed to know he will have a little brother or sister.” You tell him. He looks at you, his face full of emotion.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks and before you can even finish nodding your head, you’re already leaning in to kiss him.

“I love you. I love you so much, my wife.” He says in between kisses.

His hand did not move once from your stomach the whole night.

[runariya]

🥸🪄🤫

Merman JK who placed a courting offer on a rock for a potential mate and human reader takes it. She also goes willingly to the mating cove not knowing JK prepared it for their mating. JK's yandere show at the end when the reader tries to leave him after 🤫

Note: JK wasn't really yandere for reader unti the end. He really just want a mate but because reader took his courting offer, she's it for him.

Thank u soo much for accepting reqs! And u write so fast how do u do that? Your writing is also marvelous!

(yandere+fantasy+smut) part of the prompt game pairing: merman!Jungkook x human!female reader genre: fantasy!AU, S2"L", yandere, merman!AU, dark romance warnings: oblivious reader, fluff, language barrier (merman-language is italic and blue), smut, a little bit of fingering, big cock JK similar to the shape of a whale idk man..., unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, panic, realisation, yandere, lmk if I forgot smth (still hate writing warnings) word count: 3.375

a/n: aaaah thanks a lot for your lovely words anony! I hope it turned out just as you imagined it 💕

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The ocean is beautiful. 

You remember a film once, where the male lead whispered that the moon is beautiful as a stand-in for "I love you," but for you, it's always been the ocean. The sea is your love. The scent of briny air, the soothing rhythm of waves unfurling endlessly against the shore, the gentle nibbling of curious fish as they dart around you in the cool, embracing water—all of it anchors you, providing solace in moments of sadness or joy alike. It's what love feels like, or at least what love should feel like, wrapping itself around your soul, calming yet oh so profound.

You always marvel at the depths of the sea that stretch out before you, boundless and mysterious, and yet infinitely captivating. Sometimes, in those quiet moments when the world recedes and you find yourself alone, you long not just to stand as an admirer of its splendour, but to be one with this vast and enigmatic force of nature. 

And so, as you walk along the shoreline, as you do almost every day, your bare feet sinking into the warmth of the sand, you're taken aback when you stumble upon a bracelet resting on the stone where you so often sit to gaze at the waves. It appears pristine, otherworldly, with pearls and shells glistening in violet hues beneath the afternoon sun, a beauty far too rare to be discarded by chance on a lonely shore like this.

Your fingers trace its entchanting form, marvelling at the craftsmanship—the smoothness, the intricacy, though curiously lacking any engraving. You glance around, noting the empty expanse of the beach, and let your eyes wander across the vast waters; there is no one else here. The bracelet appears to be yours now by some strange serendipity, still, you hesitate for a moment, torn between leaving it behind and taking it with you, a part of you reluctant at the thought of it being swept away by the tide or snatched by a passing gull. In the end, you slip it over your wrist. But it doesn’t fit—too loose, and as you allow your hand to tilt, it falls away.

You frown, perhaps the universe is nudging you to let it go. But then, as you glance at the bracelet, now nestled near your foot, it occurs to you that perhaps it's meant to be worn as an anklet instead. That makes sense, and so, convinced by this thought, you sit down upon your stone and fasten the jewellery around your ankle. It fits perfectly now, shimmering with a quiet elegance in the sunlight. And as you lean back, stretching your arms behind you, allowing the coolness of the water to caress the tips of your toes, you know that it is, without a doubt, a beautiful day, and this small discovery seems to elevate it to something extraordinary.

It’s not long after when, suddenly, something stirs the stillness of the moment. You sit up straight, eyes wide, as not far from you, without so much as a splash or ripple, a human head breaks the surface of the water. Instinctively, you pull your feet close, nerves bristling slightly from the scare. “C-can I help you?”

But the man remains silent, drifting in the water, and as you squint against the sunlight to study him more closely, you spot what seem to be scales glistening on the back of his neck. Your mouth falls open in an instant—this can't be real. Yet here he is, a creature from tales of mermaids and mermen you once dismissed as fanciful myths. And here you are, unable to tear your gaze from his face, dark wet hair framing features both familiar and otherworldly, his violet-tinted eyes locking onto yours that sends a strange thrill through your veins. His smile, too, is not quite human but not wholly alien either, a delicate balance of sharpness and charm you think. 

“Wow,” you breathe, unable to conceal your awe, the astonishment spreading across your face in a grin of its own. He moves then, slowly, swimming a little farther away, and you feel a pang of disappointment, a pout forming unbidden on your lips. But just as quickly, he beckons you to follow, his gesture smooth and inviting as he stays near the shore.

Without a second thought, excitement bubbles up within you and you spring to your feet, hastily dusting the sand from your dress as you jog alongside him, eyes transfixed by the way his body moves through the water with such fluid grace. His tail—large, powerful—propels him effortlessly, and you're left torn between admiring his handsome face and the hypnotic sway of his tail. He makes it look so easy, this gliding through water, while you're struggling to keep pace, panting and stumbling to catch up with him. 

Soon, you find yourself before the entrance of a vast cave, its shadowy maw framed by a path of few smooth, small stones that allows you to cross where he has already vanished beneath the surface. Nothing would have prepared you of what you’re met inside. The cave is nothing short of paradise—sunbeams slanting through narrow crevices, casting a thousand reflections on the water’s surface, turning the space into a living kaleidoscope, while droplets of condensation plop gently from the stone ceiling, adding their own melody to the serene ambiance.

The merman is there, resting near a platform, still smiling that beguiling smile, making you approach slowly, leaving a respectful distance between you as you settle yourself against the cool stone wall. “It’s so beautiful,” you whisper, your voice hushed in the face of such breathtaking beauty.

He regards you warmly, then speaks in a language that dances on your ears like music, though you can’t understand it. Still, there’s an unmistakable sense of warmth in his tone. “I hoped you would accept my courting offer.”

You smile, pointing to yourself. “I’m ___,” you say simply, hoping the meaning translates through gesture. 

He nods, understanding the basics of this exchange, replying, “Mate.”

Thinking he’s simply stating that you’re human, you enthusiastically reply, “Yes! ___ mate. And you?” You point towards him right after.

His expression brightens once more. “Jungkook mate,” he responds, nodding firmly. 

It takes you a moment, puzzling over his words, and then the realisation dawns on you—he doesn’t mean ‘human’. He means ‘friend’. Of course! A wave of happiness washes over you at this revelation, more than happy to be friends with him. “Yes! ___ mate, Jungkook mate,” you repeat, beaming.

His eyes glisten even more at your response, and you can’t help but smile back, the sheer magnetism of his presence holding you in its thrall. It’s as if he’s cast a spell over you, drawing you into his world, his realm. But the moment is soon broken by the buzz of your phone, vibrating in the pocket of your dress, reminding you of your upcoming dentist appointment. Regretfully, you rise to your feet, an apologetic smile on your lips as you back towards the cave’s entrance.

Jungkook looks visibly disappointed, or so you think, as his brows are furrowing ever so slightly, though his expression is still one you're learning to decipher. 

“I have to go,” you say softly, “but I promise I’ll be back tomorrow.” You gesture as you speak, hoping he might understand. “___ mate, Jungkook mate. Tomorrow, sun down, sun up, I here.” You gesture dramatically to emphasise your words, and to your relief, his features soften, his nod of understanding clear.

With one last glance at him, you turn and make your way back out into the light, already counting down the hours until you return.

🌊

And so, seven days drift by, each one seeing you return to the cave, where Jungkook awaits with that silent patience of his, the two of you growing ever closer, your understanding of him deepening with each shared glance, each exchange of words. With every moment together, the awkwardness ebbs away, replaced by a gentle ease, as if you’re learning to interpret the language of his quiet gestures, his lilting voice that carries meanings beyond the reach of words.

It’s on the eighth day, after you’ve spent enough time together to almost convince yourself that you can read the currents of his mind, that something shifts between you. The anklet around your ankle, the one you now realise must have been crafted by Jungkook’s own hands, seems to have inspired you to gift him something as well.

“Kook?” you call softly as you step into the cool shade of the cave once more, a bracelet for Jungkook clutched in your palm, something you’ve carefully chosen, a small token of gratitude for all he has given you. You shouldn’t have called out, though, for there he is, as always, waiting by the platform, his strong arms draped languidly over the stone, his face splitting into a wide smile the moment he sees you.

“Mate!” he calls in return, the word making your heart twist in a way you shouldn’t feel. He means friend—but the taste of it is bittersweet now, the small seed of longing inside you growing with each encounter, but you push it aside.

“I’ve got something for you,” you announce quietly, lowering yourself to sit before him, close enough to feel the cool mist of water from his skin as his hand instinctively reaches out, resting lightly on your legs, as if needing to sate his curiosity for your strange, warm softness. You take his hand in yours—his skin wet, cold beneath your touch—and fasten the bracelet around his wrist. It’s titanium, chosen for its strength, its resilience against the sea, knowing it will last, just as you hope this tenuous connection between you will endure. “A courtship gift,” you murmur, the words familiar now—he used them himself every time he pointed at your anklet.

Jungkook stares at the bracelet, turning his arm this way and that, admiring it from every angle, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. He whispers the word that has become his tether to you: “Mate.” His voice is soft, reverent, as if the gift means far more to him than you had imagined, and his gaze, filled with such raw affection, causes a flush to rise to your cheeks, a smile tugging at your lips at his sentimental reaction. 

But then, before you can make sense of it, his hands cup your face with a suddenness that takes your breath away, and his lips press forcefully against yours. The kiss is so unexpected, his pull so swift and sure that you lose your balance, your arms flailing before they instinctively loop around his neck as you tumble into the water.

He holds you effortlessly, keeping you afloat as his lips claim yours again and again, his cold mouth moving over yours with an intensity that blinds you to the cold water. You had wondered, more times than you’d care to admit, what he might taste like—whether the salt of the sea would be a part of him—but reality is sweeter than fantasy. There is a hint of salt, yes, but beneath it lies something sweet, something intoxicating, that makes you crave more as his tongue slides against yours.

His hands roam your body, sliding over the wet fabric of your dress, exploring with a curiosity that borders on obsession. His fingers press into your skin, kneading the softness of your breasts as his breath grows heavier, more laboured. You can’t help but let your hands wander in turn, feeling the smoothness of his scales beneath your fingertips, the hard muscles that ripple beneath his skin, as solid as the stone walls of the cave.

When you finally pull away, gasping for much needed air, your eyes meet his, and up close, they are even more mesmerising—violet speckled with flecks of black and blue, like galaxies swirling in the depths of his irises, and you reach up to touch his face, tracing the lines of his cheekbones, his lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss, and you imagine your own must look much the same.

Your peaceful moment is shattered when something thick and solid brushes against your thigh beneath the water, and with a startled shriek, you push away from Jungkook, not sure if your heart starts racing or stops altogether. But his arms tighten around you, keeping you from sinking beneath the surface, his expression shifting to one of sadness as he realises he’s frightened you. The panic ebbs as quickly as it came, replaced by a curious calm as you peer down into the water, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever had startled you.

“Oh,” you exclaim softly, your surprise evident as you realise it wasn’t some sea creature that had brushed against you, but rather, something that extends from Jungkook’s tail. And again, you’re not sure if your heart starts racing or stops, when you realise what it is. “Oh!”

His arousal is unmistakable—large, thick, and utterly unlike anything you’ve ever seen, more like that of a whale than a man, and you swallow dryly as you force your gaze back to Jungkook’s face. He watches you intently, waiting for your reaction, his expression unreadable but his eyes filled with an intensity that sets your skin aflame despite the chill of the water and his skin.

A deep heat begins to pool within you, your body responding to the sight of him, the proof of his desire for you undeniable. It would be a lie to say you aren’t tempted—to say he doesn’t stir something similar within you, something that makes your skin prickle and lungs work overtime. The wetness gathering between your thighs is evidence enough of that.

“Are you sure?” you murmur, your voice still echoing in the cave, your gaze searching his as if hoping he’ll understand the question without needing words. And perhaps he does, for his eyes darken with something unmistakable—an answer, a promise—before he nods, pulling you closer once more.

His lips find yours again, kissing you with a hunger that speaks of deep, aching need, his teeth grazing your skin, his rough tongue lapping at your lips, your neck, as though he can never get enough of your taste. You lose yourself to it, the world melting to nothing but the feel of his mouth on yours, his hands on your body, the heat of his desire coursing through you like a you imagined devotion would feel like.

You help him rid yourself of the soaked fabric of your underwear, Jungkook’s hands exploring your thighs with barely concealed curiosity before his fingers find the sensitive skin of your cunt, teasing your clit until soft moans escape your lips, your grip on his shoulders tightening without much thought.

But you pull his hand away, knowing the water will only wash away your arousal, leaving you wanting. Instead, you reach for him, your small hand wrapping around the thickness of his cock, marvelling at its size, the way it seems to pulse beneath your touch. Jungkook groans silently, his eyes never leaving yours as you guide him towards your entrance, the size of him daunting but the ache of desire overpowering any trepidation.

You take him slowly, gasping as he stretches you wide, the burn too much at first but quickly giving way to a deep, overwhelming pleasure as he begins to move inside you with the little bit of his cock that fits, each thrust sending sparks flying behind your pupils. He holds your legs tight, forcing your thighs together around the remaining part, the friction equally becoming almost unbearable for you, his cock filling you to the brim, and before you even realise it, you’re crying out his name, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

Jungkook doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, his movements relentless as he fucks you with abandon, whispering words in his strange tongue, words you don’t understand but that seem to echo with a raw, untamed passion that makes your heart race all the faster, imagining he’s praising you, thinking that you’re such a good girl for him. 

You lose track of time, of the number of times he makes you cum on his cock, your mind a haze of bliss, his name the only thing you can remember to say. Each time you think you’ve reached your limit, he pulls another climax from you, his cock hitting every sensitive spot inside you with devastating accuracy, his low groans and moans clouding your mind even more.

Finally, you feel him tense, his body shuddering against yours as he buries himself as deep inside you as your physique allows, his release coming in thick, powerful pulses that fill you to the point of bursting. The sensation sends you spiralling into yet another orgasm, your body trembling uncontrollably, your mouth parting without a sound, as pleasure consumes you yet again.

When at last Jungkook pulls back, placing you gently on the platform, you collapse against the cool stone, utterly spent. It takes all your effort for the world to slowly come back into focus—the soft hues of the cave ceiling, the gentle lapping of the waves, the quiet drip of water from the ceiling above. 

You lie there, breathless, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts, like the restless waves outside the cave, wondering what you’ve just done, what it means, and whether you’ll ever be able to return to the life you knew before.

But your mind can’t settle.

The realisation of your stupidity and naivety crashes over you in waves—the impossible reality of sharing yourself with a creature of myth, the deep-seated regret that gnaws at you like a tide pulling at the shore, whispering that this was a mistake, that you should have known better, should have resisted. 

You find yourself wondering absurdities—whether a morning-after pill could possibly work against the seed of a merman, or if his essence would simply fade away inside you like mist, dissolving with the salt water, leaving no trace behind. Your body feels foreign, strange now, as if you've been altered by his touch, by the unearthly pleasure that coursed through you, and an instinctive panic rises, setting your nerves alight, urging you to flee. 

Your limbs still tremble from all the orgasms as you push yourself upright, hands unsteady as you try to find your balance, desperate to extricate yourself from the surreal haze that envelops you. Jungkook is still there, watching you with those mesmerising eyes, his fingers gently tracing aimless patterns along your exposed thigh, as if nothing in the world could be more captivating than the feel of your skin beneath his touch. His gaze is so tender, so filled with awe, that it only deepens the ache of guilt growing in your chest, highlighting the dangerous ground you’ve ventured onto. 

You attempt to pull away, to create some distance between yourself and the fantasy you’ve allowed to take root, knowing full well that this is a world you cannot inhabit, a dream too fragile to hold in the blinding light of reality. But Jungkook’s hand is faster, catching your ankle in an instant, right above the anklet he gifted you—an innocent token that now feels like a binding chain, keeping you bound to something far beyond your understanding. 

You struggle, trying to shake him off, beginning to feel more panicked than you ever been in your life, but his strength is undeniable, your efforts feeble against the power of his hold, of the very being he is. 

And then, he speaks—softly, with that strange lilt of his voice, but this time, not in his tongue. The word that falls from his lips is yours. The sound of it stops your breath, chills not only the air around you but you too. And in that moment, you realise what you should have known from the beginning, what you should have seen the moment you clasped that anklet around your leg—you’ve crossed a threshold that cannot be uncrossed, a line that cannot be erased. 

“Mate.” 

[ellecdc]

Baaaaabe 😫

Ive been sick for the last couple days, and as always, that first day was horrible. Ive had my brain legit decide it wants to inflate bigger than my skull capacity (long story short, pregnancy 🫡) and i got to re-experience that feeling for the first 12 hours 💀

BUT i came back and i was sooo excited for your updates!! They were soo good (please tell me theres a part 2 to that angst....pls 🥺) And i love our discussions in the comments 🫶

I do have another request though if you have the time love. Another possessive!wolfstar buuuttt..... make reader Jamie's sister (twins?)!! Its troublesome enough for James to keep Sirius' hands to himself, but full moon Rem?? He's a brick wall. Like somethings happening between the 2 and Jamie is chasing reader, then she spots Rem and hides behind him. James tries to reach for her and Rem is just kinda like "???? Excuse me, thats mine. Dont touch. James Fleamont Potter. DONT. TOUCH." without even knowing whats going on. James is incredulous (because thats HIS sister) and Siri is chuckling but it looks like Rem might actually bite Jamie's hand off so he moves between them to seperate them but Rem is also like "ExCuSe YOU??? Also mine. *to siri* dont touch him. *to James* dont touch them or you might not have all your fingers when you wake up!!"

And just the repercussions of this where James isnt allowed alone with either until a couple days passed the 🌕

Hope youre looking after yourself darling 🩵

I love James' sister trope - something about it screams fluff and perhaps a little angst but just in all the best ways. I would imagine his sister to be so much like him: mischievous, funny, and full of love. Thanks for requesting!!!

poly!wolfstar x potter sister!reader

There were quite a few perks that came along with being James Potter's twin sister. One said perk was having a built-in best friend from the moment you came into the world. Another was that whilst you were attending school, you had the benefit of no one being willing to mess with you on account of the company you kept - namely, your brother and his infamous friends who called themselves The Marauders.

What being James Potter's twin sister couldn't protect you from? James Potter.

What could protect you from being James Potter's twin sister? Being the girlfriend of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

You and James were leaving Care of Magical Creatures together, heading to meet up with Remus and Sirius near the Greenhouses when one Lily Evans walked by - graciously bestowing James the time of day for quite possibly the first time ever - when you decided that this was the perfect pranking opportunity.

You really couldn't be blamed for what happened next: it truly was a gift bestowed upon you by the great pranking gods, and who were you to deny it?

"Hello, Potter." Lily said, causing James to gasp dramatically.

"Hello, Lily! Beautiful day out today, innit?"

Lily couldn't help but snicker at the sickeningly wide grin that took over James' face.

"Oi, Jamie. I forgot to tell you: mum sent that rash cream you were asking for. She said to remind you it's only safe to put around your anus, not in it." You proclaimed loudly, pretending to read from a 'letter' your mother had sent.

The courtyard became incredibly quiet before what you recognized to be Barty Crouch Junior's laugh echoed the space, triggering the snickering of all those present.

"You are so dead!" James sneered and you didn't hesitate to take off in a sprint - knowing your brother was a mere few paces behind you.

"You slithering little snake! She finally starts coming around - are you kidding me!?" He shouted as you swerved between bodies standing in your way whilst he just barrelled right through them.

Suddenly, you saw salvation in the form of one Remus John Lupin.

Now, granted, Remus didn't always protect you from your squabbles with James. Part of the reason for that was because half of the time you sort of deserved it (much like today), and the other part was that he claimed he didn't know what proper protocol was in sibling relationships on account of him being an only child. Sirius, a brother himself, had no such qualms and always took your side.

However, you knew that the full moon was in a mere two more sleeps, meaning Remus was at his most protective (read: possessive) which did not distinguish James Potter as friend, sibling, nor pack.

Right now: James Potter was only a threat.

And, let's be honest, being James Potter's twin sister, and a girlfriend to Remus Lupin and Sirius black also meant you were mischievous as hell. So you had no trouble using this to your utmost advantage.

You squeaked in terror as you slid behind Remus' lanky frame a moment before James - the bastard - slammed into his form and all but bounced off of Remus. James was admittedly more muscular than Remus, but Remus' height and werewolf strength left him towering above James as the dumb sod picked himself up off the ground.

"What in the buggering hell is going on?" He spat at James as one of his arms wrapped behind him, shielding you from your fuming brother.

"That sneaky little witch just embarrassed me in front of Lily!" James barked, looking like he was still trying to figure out how to get around Remus in order to strangle you.

"Please," Sirius drawled as he walked over casually, "like you need any help in that department Prongs."

You tried to hide your snicker, but from Remus' glance at you through the corner of his eye, you knew he caught it.

"She told the entire courtyard I needed cream for a rash on my anus!"

Sirius doubled over in laughter and you preened when you noticed Remus let out a soft chuckle himself.

"It's not sodding funny you wanker! Lily spoke to me first today! I'm going to kill you!" James snarled, moving his attention from Sirius to you.

As James stepped forward menacingly, Remus grabbed the collar of his shirt. "Prongs, enough." He barked.

Sirius was still laughing when he moved to stand between Remus and James, releasing James' shirt from Remus' fist.

"Okay, down boy." Sirius snarked, patting James' shoulder consolingly.

"Oh, sod off." James muttered, elbowing Sirius as he moved to step away.

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding and tried to even out your breathing; lungs still burning from your run.

"You okay, dove?" Remus asked you so gently as he bent down to make eye contact with you. His face screamed love, attentiveness, and care, making you feel slightly guilty for having shoved him in the middle of your tomfoolery.

"I'm fine, Moons. Sorry for causing trouble." You answered solemnly.

His face picked up slightly at your words as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "You wouldn't be you if you weren't causing trouble, love."

Your tender moment was interrupted by a yelp, causing the two of you to turn only to notice James and Sirius wrestling. James seemed to have gotten Sirius into a headlock, and the sod wasn't willing to tap out - still kicking and clawing at James in anyway he could.

"Oi!" Remus shouted as he plucked Sirius out of James' grasp and shoved him in the direction of the castle. James used his momentary distraction as an opportunity to set his sights back on you as he lunged, tackling you to the ground.

"Fuckin' hell Jamie! You weight a tonne!" You shouted, kneeing him in the gut. James doubled over and rolled onto his side in the fetal position.

You didn't even get a chance to right yourself before you were thrown over Remus' shoulder who was still shouting at Sirius to "get back to the dorm. The both of you are staying within my sights for the next foreseeable future" as you all left James with the wind knocked out of him, keeled over on the castle grounds.

[manincaffeine]

What's your love language?? my love language is railing my girl under the moonlight

[11hedonistic]

Astrology Observations 🌴

air venus/air mars are usually the type of people to fall for the friends or find nothing wrong with having a fwb (friend with benefits)

venus touching the ascendant (no matter the aspect) can manifest a beautiful appearance (same with mars but with mars, i would say this gives more of a sex appeal vibe)

scorpio moon/mars definitely wins the title for holding grudges the longest/being the most unforgivable if you cross them

i realized that a lot of aries mercury people don’t really think before they speak😂

taurus mercury people are those type of people to repeat what they already said just to make sure everyone understood

my gemini mercury people.. i know how hard it is for you to stay focused. you’re doing great reading this sweetie

cancer mercury people have craaazy intuition

if you’re looking for someone to tell a good story, find you a leo mercury!! these people are such good story tellers 😂

virgo mercury people can be brutally honest people when giving advice, which can hurt people in the process but that’s not their intention most of the time!

if you need a mediator during an argument, find u a libra mercury. they’re always looking at both sides of an argument

scorpio mercury people can become very rude/disrespectful if they feel annoyed or bothered. especially if they have sag/cap placements.. scary

sagittarius mercury people almost always come off as too blunt

capricorn mercury people, how often are you put in leadership positions? 🤔

aquarius mercury people and their way of coming up with ideas no one else could think of >>

pisces mercury people.. you and that imagination of yours. always in your head. i know you enjoy living in your imagination dont you (my neptune 3rd house can relate so you’re not alone lol)

taurus moon + scorpio venus lovers >>

the best omg this guy that im talking to right now has this combo and he’s always spoiling me with gifts, mind you we’re not even dating 😂 and they’re SO observant. like i play my music around him sometimes and yesterday he literally surprised me with a playlist of my favorite songs & his favorite songs (he’s moving away so he made it for me to listen while he’s gone when i miss him 💔) but wow. if you want real love, these people are it

pluto 4th house people.. how’s your family/home life?

pluto 1st house people.. how many times has it felt like you killed your old self just to make a new one? coming back stronger and stronger each time of course

im soo tired of this gemini venus slander and saying WE CHEAT! we dont cheat we just lose interest fast if you’re boring or fail to keep our brains stimulated. just dont be monotone/boring, make us laugh & we’ll be willing to work on the connection 😁 its also just that we dont really deal well with a bunch of intense emotions being thrown at us. give us time

capricorn moon people.. are you ok? and dont lie to me

scorpio suns.. how is your relationship with your father?

i saw someone say how saturn in 1st house people hate the inverted filter & they were nott wrong. my sister has this placement and she despises it. always picking at every single flaw she has whole time she looks fine lol

[hwallazia]

OCEAN, BED, TATTOO – 정우영

synopsis . in which wooyoung tattoos your skin with ink... and with his lips.

pairing . jung wooyoung & fem! reader

genre . smut (mdni!), fluff & comfort, established relationship, tattoo artist! wooyoung

taglist . @bro-atz @purplenimsicle @vampzity @iykyunho | comment your username if you wanna be added to my permanent taglist! ♡

word count . 2,1k

DISCLAIMER! dom! wooyoung (he’s a teasing menace here) sub! (and very whiny) reader, fingering, clit play, light scratches, unprotected sex (boooo👎), tattoos involved, overstimulation, dirty talk, praise, petnames (my love, sweetheart, youngie & more). lmk if i missed anything.

NIC’S NOTES hey, i’m back at the game again after a long month full of exams !! i’m soo glad, i missed writing so much ♡ well, enjoy <3

tattoos aren’t as bad as people say. they look cool on your skin and they are aesthetically gorgeous. when you were about nine years old, your older sister, a few months after she came of age, got a tattoo of a beautiful, fine mandala on her right leg, and from that moment on, you were committed to tattooing your skin—probably the forearm, you often thought.

and you finally did it when you turned 20. with your sister’s company, you arrived at the tattoo parlor in search of a certain “wooyoung”, who would be the artist who would draw the permanent (and hopefully pretty) lines on your skin.

“excuse me. um, we’re looking for wooyoung? he’s supposed to be the tattoo artist for my sister.” your sister said to the man behind an old oak desk that seemed to be some kind of reception, her body leaning against the wood, elbows resting on it. 

“guess you’re looking for me then” a voice not participating in the conversation intervened. since you heard it coming from behind you, you turned around. just to meet the most good-looking, jaw-dropping, mouth-watering man you’ve ever seen, his figure leaning against the door’s frame that seemed to lead to his studio with his arms crossed in front of his chest, his notoriously pump chest.

“you must be yn.” he continued as he approached you and your sister’s position. “hi. i’m wooyoung.” he extended his right arm, placing his left hand under it. oh, he looks like a prince, a tattooed prince, but hush. “well, do you want to come in alone or do you want your sister to accompany you?”

fortunately, your sister could read you like a book. so when she saw your momentary inability to formulate coherent sentences —she’d later study the reasons why you suddenly were flabbergasted— and before you could say whatever thought your short-circuited mind processed, she answered for you. “go on. i’ll wait here. sometimes you gotta face situations without your dear older sister’s help, right?” she said as she ruffled your hair playfully, slightly messing up your hairstyle. an annoyed huff escaped from your lips with a small pout in reply. 

a cute, quiet snort came from wooyoung, your embarrassed heart racing a little at the sound of it. “come on, then” he tilted his head sharply indicating you to enter his studio. you walked side by side towards its door and before you both could pass the threshold, he stepped aside the door’s frame and extended his arm, his fingertips pointing to the inside of the room.

“ladies first” he uttered in a honey-dripping tone that made your heart skip a beat. and the warm smile he gave you after you locked gazes? double kill. heat flushed through your cheeks, now turning into a more reddened hue. when wooyoung saw your adorable, bashful face turning into a cute tomato, his eyes closed even more. two beautiful, heartwarming crescent moons decorating his eyes. you bowed your head slightly at the embarrassment and entered the studio. abstract art pieces hanging on the wall; a melting-type clock on the side of one of them; a few framed diplomas embellishing a narrow decorative table located below a large window, which gave the most beautiful view of the busy downtown of seoul and, at the same time, allowed the entry of divine natural light, changing the ambience completely. he also had some plants here and there.

“so, what did you have in mind for today?” he spoke as he reached for his chair, grabbing it by its back and pulling it to him so he could sit on it. his arms finding support on the top of the chair as his upper body vaguely leaned against it. “is it your first time?” he asked and turned around to prepare the tattoo machine by grabbing the black ink he’d possibly need.

“yes, um. it is, actually” you stuttered, trying to sound as clear and understandable as possible. “i thought about tattooing the word ‘resilience’ on my forearm. is that okay?” your eyes wondered between wooyoung’s fingers and the veins that came from them, a bottle of isopropyl alcohol in his right hand. 

“of course it’s okay. you’re the boss in here.” he chuckled a little at your stammering tone. ‘well of course it is, you’re the one getting the tattoo and paying for it anyway, so duh’ a bothering voice in your head replied to you, a soft huff from you was heard. “so, do you have an idea of how you want it to look?” he continued while he stretched the latex glove on his left hand and then replicating the action on his right.

“yeah, let me get my ph-” you started to say as you touched your upper body, and then your hips, and then your pockets, and then your pants... you had totally forgotten your phone, in which you kept the idea you saw on pinterest the other day of the tattoo you wanted to get. a murmured curse coming off your lips when you realized. “i, uh. i don’t have my phone with me right now. i... forgot it at home.”

“oh. well don’t worry! it happens to me more times than i’d like.” he laughed not too exaggeratedly. he wasn’t trying to piss you off by giggling at your disgraceful situation; he was comforting you in the best way he could because, after all, you were strangers. “hm. so do you wanna reschedule or-”

you didn’t think twice before responding by shaking your hands in front of you. “no! i trust you with it! it’s just a word anyway.” the words easily slipped out of your tongue, not a hint of doubt in the spark that glimmered in your orbs.

“but it’s your first tattoo-” wooyoung replied with notorious insecureness in his tone and you, unbothered, interrupted him.

“come on!” you spoke as you lifted your dark purple oversized sweater’s sleeve, revealing your soft skin to his fox-like eyes which doubted for a second before resting his slim, latex-covered fingers on your exposed skin. you were able to see a very close-up of the touch of his fingers against your skin, your hair standing on end as a result. his fingers sent shivers and sparks down your whole anatomy, a weird feeling forming in your belly and chest. you felt how his touch dragging flowers through the meadow of your complexion, creating the most beautiful garden.

who would say that that boy who marked your skin for life with his art would now be the one with whom you wake up every day, the one to whom you trust your most intimate secrets, the one whom you love and kiss every day. the one that makes you see stars.

like now, fucking his fingers sloppily from all the right angles into your wet cunt.

“youngie, wait i- hgh- i don’t wanna cum yet.” you whine as you grip the silk, champagne-colored sheets underneath you. he has spent a generous amount of time prepping you, playing way too much with your sensitive clit. and that has brought you to the brink of abyss. you want to cum when he finally fills you with his rock-hardened cock, but wooyoung seems to have no intention of stopping. he is a hundred-percent committed in making you cum as much as you physically can.

“huh? what’s that, sweetheart? didn’t quite catch that.” he mocks at you, deepening his index and middle fingers inside you and putting his thumb to work on your bud’s stimulation. a desperate cry bubbling out your throat. “but stop crying, baby. so you can respond.” his non-working hand releases its firm grip on your hip and moves up to your cheek to stroke it in the most gently way.

your voice lets you down, your tone drowning in the blubber that erupts from your lips once your body feels the consequences of wooyoung’s incessant thumb swaying over your clit. the palms of your hands sheltering your reddened cheeks.

he chuckles at the sight of you, “covering your face when you’re dripping all over my fingers?” he withdraws his fingers from your warm interior, your walls clenching around nothing due to the nostalgia of being satisfyingly full. he then covers your hands with his and takes them away from your blissed expression and pecks your lips briefly. “shameless.” 

he gets on his knees in between your legs, his hands pushing them apart before he bends over your figure, trapping you between his strong, tattooed arms. you have tried in the past putting your legs on his shoulder; and yes, he does push further than usual, but it was an uncomfortable and painful position for you. so you opted for simpler things, nothing so difficult so that it replaces pleasure with pain. wooyoung always puts your satisfaction over his, doing everything he can to give you the most toe-curling orgasm every time. and he never fails. 

your hands instinctively find comfort on his back, your fingers mindlessly stroking his back tattoo. “i’m putting it in, love.” he murmurs against the crook of your neck as he pushes in further and further, your nails digging onto his bare back. the combination of a masculine grunt and a whimper floats in the air, which is getting heavier and heavier. 

“holy shit- ah, wooyoung. you’re so.. fucking deep.” you blubber as you feel his cockhead faintly rubbing your g-spot. his thrusts are precise and strong, driving you quickly over the edge. his sighs blowing on your face as almost invisible clouds because of the humidity generated by the situation. 

“fuck baby. you feel so soft and warm. and tight” he exhals, some strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. he does some kind of push-up to come down your face and kiss your swollen, red lips frantically. your tongues fighting and his winning over yours. “wanna stay inside you forever. ah.” wooyoung pants out his words, hips still going and knocking a little more roughly against your cunt with every push.

“i know you can give me a little more, though” he pants raspily, totally out of breath. your fucked-out mind can only process something about ‘wanting more’ or something like that, you don’t know, way too gone to even say your name without stumbling with your own words. you can only understand what he says when his very familiar touch lingers strokes on your clit, so swollen and tired of overstimulation. the cute, pleasured sounds coming out of you only encouraged him to speed up his fingers and his hips as well. he practically is wanting to break you completely until you aren’t able to even recognize where you are, your name or how much is two plus two. and wooyoung finds your current state quite amusing, so he starts to imitate you, mocking your broken sobs and pathetic mewls exaggeratedly. 

“if only you could listen to you right now. but you aren’t even listening to me, are you, doll?” he teases, enjoying a bit too much the tears that pitifully stream down your face profusely. your eyebrows furrow together, your thighs shake more than usual and you start feeling lightheaded; you’re about to fall into the abyss of pleasure and wooyoung is more than happy to receive your warm, dripping juices. 

“oh fuck, youngie. ’m gonna cum. you’re gonna make me cum. please let me... fuck... please, i—” you give up on the rambling begging and let yourself just helplessly whine and mewl.

“i know, my love. go on, cum for your youngie. make me proud, angel.” he encourages you, his fingers keeping a steady pace on your bud as well as his thrusts. three or four more are more than enough to melt you under his divine touch as your throat lets out the very last shriek of the night. “ah you’re so good, so fucking tight for your youngie, aren’t you? ugh” he shakes above you as he lets out a moan that sounded more like a cry. he quickly, but carefully pulls out, your body shuddering at the sudden emptiness, releasing hot shots of cum over your belly, painting your navel’s surroundings with pearl-like spurts.

he finally lets his body surrender to the overwhelming tiredness, collapsing above you.

“wooyoung. love. get off of me, i can’t breathe.” you speak, receiving a drowned and unbothered ‘mm’ as a response. you chuckle with the little strength you have left, “at least get off of my arm?” you try to negotiate with him the dumbest thing ever. but he finally does as told and moves a little to the side, releasing your right arm from his weight, “there you go. see? it wasn’t that hard.”

“hush. i’m sleepy. and tired” he mentions separately in a grumpy tone. of course, how could you forget the grumpiness that wraps your boyfriend when he runs out of energy?

“fine, babygirl.”

“don’t call me that!”

| masterlist

[harmoonix]

╔═══❖•ೋ ೋ•❖═══╗

Iconic Astrology Notes Part II

⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊╌──┈⊰᯽⊱

✵ - The ascendant in your ascendant persona chart shows how you are inside, how you act more Inside while your natal ascendant shows how you are on the outside ( it works for me so much🌃)

✵ - Eris asteroid (136199) aspecting ascendant SHOWS big power for standing up for yourself, no one can tell you what to do honestly

✵ - Also Eris asteroid aspecting the Venus cannot stand when someone messes up with their partners, like they are top biggest defenders of their lovers

✵ - Eris aspecting Mercury can tend to cuss people off and to end them with words because they can really be aggresive verbally, like starting a fight with them is like being in the middle of a hurricane

✵ - Eris aspecting Moon can have chaotic feelings and feel multiple things at once but these aspects are also very strong for defending what they love and what they want to achieve

✵ - Lilith aspecting Moon can be intense, especially if you have mommy issues but is more than that, this is powerful, you are able to control your feelings very well and to manage to not show your emotions

✵ - Lilith - Mars aspects are soo good at attracting the opposite sex to them, especially if you are attracted to men with this aspect you drain them into you

✵ - Have you ever been to a party with someone who has a Sagittarius or Leo Moon? Or someone who has Moon in the 5th or 9th house? These people really know how to party like, partying and their socializing time is everything "If you see us on the floor you'll be watching all night"

✵ - Saturn/Venus/Sun or Moon in the 7th house = GURL you know you're getting the hottest thing called spouse ever on this earth right??

✵ - Sun aspecting Chiron be like "People will never feel how I feel and will never understand what I feel and why I feel some things,I guess i have to not tell my pain to anyone" - They are def some of the strongest people born

✵ - Ascendant sextile/trine/conjunct Pluto are too iconic for this world to have, so many celebrities have these in their birthcharts

✵ - Nobody but nobody ever can tell someone with Libra or Leo Rising that they look bad because they will embarras themselves, like you tell the beauty icon that they look bad? BFR

✵ - Aquarius Placements wil always be the definition of uniqueness in your birth chart and shows what makes you unique, they aret the salvation

✵ - Aquarius Risings are rare at personality. Notice how is always something unique with the celebrities who have this specific rising sign? They are natural rarities and people don't appreciate them enough

✵ - Capricorn Risings have the same effect because of their authenticity. They keep it authentic and creative, do not be afraid to show your true colors to people

✵ - Gemini/Virgo Risings look more young than they actually are, this thing can make them more attractive because it will be hard to guess your age. Also don't tell your age let people guess your age for more mystery

✵ - Sagittarius Risingsss and their appealllll like gurlll you are magnetic, your ruler Jupiter grants you luck for your whole life since your birth and until your death you have luck written in stars, I love ittt

✵ - I should give a raise to Moon - Pluto aspects for being so misterious and hypnotizing, they are like a shadow who follows around but you never know where it is, also their eyes are extremely beautiful

✵ - Sagittarius Placements are so Iconic for being this honest,I mean you don't want honesty in your life and you choose to be Delulu? Good, always be friends with Sagittarius Placements cause they will spill the tea

✵ - Capricorn Sun/Rising/Moon and the dark femme fatale aesthetic fits so good together like gurlll, black is definitely theirs, they dominate when they wear black (Even Saturn approves)

✵ - Get yourself a bestie with Leo placements so you can talk hours about fashion and gloss, trust the process they have so many good points

✵ - Asteroid Sirene (1009) in Gemini/Virgo will use their enchanting voice to charm the people they want to attract, the native has such an enchanting voice

✵ - Asteroid Sirene (1009) in Scorpio/Cancer/Pisces and GURLLL you really give off Sirene vibes, your eyes, your appearance are enchanting (I imagine them being Vanessa from the little mermaid)

✵ - Juno sextile/trine/conjunct Midheaven and the way they will show off to everyone what a lovely relationship they have will be EPIC, these people have the relationship everyone dreams

✵ - Juno at 5°, 17°, 29° degrees.. Who's gonna tell her?? HOW iconic your spouse can be?? LIKE they will be there for everything at the right moment

✵ - Lilith aspecting Mars (all aspects) often can find the men to be more attracted to them, like a magnet, even the men you don't want to have around you

✵ - Ascendant aspecting Venus (all aspects) are extremely pretty, they are all blessed by Venus in different ways to express their beautiful nature and their gifts

✵ - Hurting someone with heavy Capricorn/Aquarius placements = Karma coming for you when you don't expect it, is like something that never stops until you acknowledge you hurt these people

✵ - Venus at 10°,11°, 22°, 23° degrees can get vey good looking spouses, also mature aswell and veryyy serious about their relationships, they are the type of people " We don't break up we fix it together" (Saturn rules these degrees)

✵ - For those interested in men...Jupiter at 5°, 17°, or 29° degrees can have the same effect, meeting that partner who is extremely hot and smart in the same time, (they will have a good personality)

✵ - Scorpio Sun/Moon/Rising and their mystery is something else, they are remarcabile at hiding secrets and they are extremely loyal to their lovers

✵- Lilith or True Lilith in Leo/Libra/Scorpio/Aquarius are so mesmerizing , when you encounter them you be have this energy of wanting to talk with them and make a contact

✵ - Venus aspecting Mercury, CAN I tell how iconic your voice is??? Everyone is always so impressed by your voice and the way you talk is so gracious

✵ - Venus in Capricorn/Taurus/Virgo and LET IT flow with money, Venus is these signs feels like a "Material Girl" they are having money, style, everything

✵ - Lilith or True Lilith in the 7th house and their mesmerizing power to attract people is INSANE, I tell you is insane how many people can be interested in them

✵ - Air Moons and their style in music is everything, music is bounded to them fr. Highly artisans natives, they can even be good compositors at making and writing music

✵ - Juno at Pisces Degrees (12°, 24°) will most likely meet their true soulmate in this life and create a bound with them. Is written in your destiny and these degrees confirm it

✵ - North Node in 7th house in your Chiron Persona Chart indicates your destiny in order to heal is to have an healthy relationship and an healthy partner

⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊╌──┈⊰᯽⊱

✨ ICONIC placements post for y'all 😍🤞🏼 enjoyyyy ✨

💥💋 Everyone is iconic in different ways but with same knowledge 💋💥

💥💋 I hope you all have a good day full of good moments with the people you love 💋💥

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

With love, Harmoonix 💋

[arminsumi]

I LOVE YOUR WRITING OMG ITS SOO GOOD !! 🤍🤍

i wanted to req doing a skincare routine w gojo, like asking him to lay down so you could do it. if that makes sense 😭😭

(i thought it would be so cutee !! pref a fem reader)

NIGHTS LIKE THESE

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

Satoru just enjoying getting pampered by his wife.

[ Note ] : ahhh u are so very kind 😖💗 i lovee the idea of skincare w gojo sm!! he deserves to be pampered like a royal puppy

He's all for it when you suggest doing a skincare routine on him. I mean, laying down and letting your soft hands work out the tension in his face with some nice smelling products? Yes, please. That's exactly what he needs on a Friday night after teaching martial arts to his students all day.

"What's this?" he asks for each product in your hands. He doesn't eye them out suspiciously, he just accepts whatever you're putting on his face.

He's in this love-ditzy state tonight... oh, maybe it's just the strong blossom scent flooding in through the windows putting him in that state.

"This is a face mask... I'll put it on, then peel it off in fifteen minutes..." you're murmuring slowly, voice soft as you focus on smearing the sparkly gelatinous liquid over the curve of his cheek."

"Mmm..." he hums in acknowledgement to what you said, eyes closing.

His hair is put out of the way by a pink makeup headband; it's the one he bought for you at the beginning of the year, that Sailor Moon one. It just has a crescent moon on the center.

Satoru wiggles his feet and rests his finger-locked hands on his stomach, relishing in the attention you're giving him.

There's a serene silence as you apply the face mask with carefulness — you're trying to make it that perfectly rounded mask.

"... you're so gentle." Satoru comments, smiling to himself. "It's nice... getting pampered by my pretty wife. I think this is the meaning of life." he says in a low rasp. You can hear how tired he is after teaching all day in the hot sun.

"What, the meaning of life is... getting a face mask put on you?" you chuckle.

"Being with you." he replies.

You soften your brows and look down at him with love. He's still got his eyes closed so he can't see your loving look. It's okay. He can feel your love radiating.

"Well aren't you sappy..." you tease. He smiles.

He knows he's sappy, but you like it, don't you? And he means it. His meaning of life is being with you.

"I'm done, by the way."

"OOH let me see."

He checks his reflection in his phone camera, and you know snaps a picture with you while he's at it. You complain that he's gotten your bad side, and that he has to take it again, but he's giggling like a mischievous kid.

You sigh and look at him. "Of course... of course you look good in a face mask."

"Uhhh yeah duh I look good in everything." he responds cockily, then adds, "... you look good in everything, too."

"Ah shut it!" you giggle, and the sound makes his heart lurch.

"Mmm, it's true." he leans in, giving you a lopsided kiss, "Thank you, baby. Anyways... this stuff smells so good... is it edible?"

"No, it's not. So don't eat it."

He eats a little to mess with you. Then scrunches his whole face at the chemical taste.

"Satoru why are you like this." you shake your head. "Anyways... I'll cut some cucumbers for your eyes." you say, turning to the tiny cutting board that you put on top of a pillow.

"Yay, cucumber time." he says like a five-year-old. "It's not bigger than mine, is it?" he eyes out the cucumber you're taking into your hands.

"Satoru!" you laugh scoldingly.

He lets you cut the cucumber in peace, not wanting to talk in case he distracts you. But the way he stares at you, with his fists tucked under his chin and that star-struck look in his eyes, he distracts you anyways, and you nearly slice your finger.

Satoru's a different kind of beautiful. That's apparent from the first time you meet him, but you realize it during times like this; when you're snuggled up in your dim-lit bedroom. The clear face mask glitters a bit, you can see it drying.

"Don't touch it. It's drying."

"Sorryyy."

You shake your head at him. Then you catch him trying to touch his face again.

"Ooh, I can feel the little stars in it."

"Satoru, let it dry. Lay back. I'm covering your eyes..."

"... ooh, kinky."

You sigh, he smiles — he's so happy that he can be an absolute idiot around you and yet you still love him. How'd an obnoxious idiot like him get a tender, loving woman like you? I guess, 'cause he's god's favorite, I mean... with the Six Eyes and Limitless bestowed on him, of course he'd be sent an earth angel too, just to protect his sanity. You're very much his sanctuary, the refuge he seeks when responsibility whips his back.

The soothing cucumber slices cover his eyes now.

Laying and letting you pamper him like this makes him feel so at peace, he's becomes drowsy, and soon falls asleep. Soft snores sound from him. He's so utterly soft and gentle while he sleeps, you wouldn't think he's the strongest.

You decide to not wake him, and just peel the face mask off him gently once the fifteen minutes passes.

He just sleeps like a baby while you finish the routine. A soft, radiant glow adorns his cheekbones. His chest rises and falls like a calm tide.

That's your husband; a hyper, sleep-deprived, overworked and overburdened man who lives for the nights you do these sweet things with him.

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.