#give hush a happy meal

[vollerey]

his name is shhh and i want him to eat a happy meal IMMEDIATELY ‼️‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️ GIVE MY SILLY GOOBER A FUCKEING HAPPY MEAL NOWWW🗣️‼️🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

spoilers in tags

i really want doc to be super hyperfixated on stars and tell hushy hush shhh about them. “so that really bright star there is sirius..” if ykyk

or like, ring a wind chime by him and hes like “???” idk. i really headcanon my pookie doc as a wijd chime loving star obsessed goober snoober. and they explode whenever stars/space gets mentioned in a conversation.. just me?? sorry. im also heavily head canoning that doc just has fish.. maybe like a pond behind their apartment that they just visit every day. doc is disney princess coded AND U CANT TELL ME OTHERWISE ‼️‼️‼️‼️

#give hush a happy meal #doc pls #let my boy eat smth #would he be like #woahh #or smth? #hes so babygirl #i love mysterious crazy dudes who have a brother that wants to actually kill them #too specific? #my bad. #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted hush #hush my baby.. #how would he react to a cat/dog? #or a fish? #??? #maybe a butterfly? #butterfly colors have meanings so what if doc likes butterflies #i want doc to be absolutely drooling in special interest brain about stars #just me? #redacted headcanons #redacted doc

[evilminji]

You know what idea has always ENCHANTED ME?

Ever since I saw it on a sci-fi show?

The Deadly Magical House That Loves You™. See, it's a house that has become something MORE. Gained sentience. And? Instead of acting out some cheap horror movie jump scares? It digs deep to its foundations, thinks long n hard, and decides on what it WANTS.

And it WANTS?

To be a HOME™.

To TAKE CARE OF somebody. Have LIFE in its halls. Meals at its tables. Joy and laughter bouncing across its walls. So? It lays a trap. Lures people in.

Come live in me~

I am a good home.

I am Free! I am "Safe". I will give you whatever your heart desires.

I care not for morality or laws. Boundaries or taboos. Do you desire? Come, come, be HAPPY~! Live in me! Relax here! Forget about the world beyond these walls. Anything I can not give you, I can bring TOO you! This is a Happy Home.

But, of course, such sentience and pushiness terrifies. People run and flee in horror. The house getting more aggressive. Trying to hold tighter. After all! If they would just STAY for a while, they would SEE! It's so LOVELY here! The would LOVE to live inside them!

But... instead?

They are hurt.

Doors smashed open. Windows broken to escape. Furniture thrown. Their avatar, Jeeves, bashed with heavy things. Why... WHY?! They are only trying to HELP! To LOVE them! Be a good HOME! They grow more and more run down. Starved. Wrathful.

It is, of course, their Obsession. To be a home. They are so very hungry.

When? Who should come along?

But the depressed AF Ghost King! He's been... not TECHNICALLY kicked out. But "things are tense" kicked out. He's tired. His college courses are remote. He can't really AFFORD rent. And everything is just...

He's TIRED.

He wants to cry.

Why... why can't he have ONE good thing? ONE sign everything's gonna be alright?

"Free House!"

Well... I mean... that IS a literal sign. Huh. He flies down. The house notices him. Tries to look as enticing as it can. And? Gasp! I... It's WORKING? This one seems INTERESTED? Quick! Flowerbeds! Look at my flowerbeds! Ooooh, lovely floooowers! A.. and there's probably really nice wood flooring! C'mon. C'moooon!

Danny? Sees a free Lair. Not too far from both Gotham AND Metropolis. Good location. Needs a little fixing up. But I mean... you can't beat free, right?

Is he really gonna do this?

......fuck it. Yeah, let's do this. First house time. He's just glad he carries a sharpie on him most of the time. Scribbles "Sold!" Over the sign then calls Jazz. He's... kinda not sure WHAT he's supposed to pack?

Finds out, post move in, whoop. Sentient Lair. Clingy, clingy, highly desperate sentient Lair. Oof. Guess fixing up the place can be therapy for both of us. Jazz helps.

The house heals. He falls into a routine. Schoolwork, hang out in the garden or the observatory, meals FaceTiming friends or watching videos, naps whenever he wants them. It's... it's so peaceful. Quiet and soothing to his agitated and worn down soul. Like a balm.

House gets him whatever he needs. They're kinda awesome like that. Always seems to have room to fit this or that. He doesn't question it. His brain figuring it works on Zone logic.

He probably SHOULD have.

Because? Things have been going missing. At a slow, steady, pace. Food, technology, entertainment. A building that shouldn't BE there, has been spotted in a wealthy county just outside of Superman and Batman's two cities.

No one can get near it.

It's been getting BIGGER.

Growing, like a tumor, room by room. Floor by floor. The gardens creeping like kudzu, to swallow everything in their path. Yet delivery drivers drop things off. Things they don't remember. On trips they don't recall. People are scared.

Amateur detectives have managed to discover some sort of starlit fae that lives there, along with a human boy.

Justice League Dark has been called in. Are currently standing just outside the slowly creeping property line. A garden statue just hissed at them. The trees are trying to throw acorns. A hushed argument has already broken out. How do they contain the house?

@the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @hypewinter @hdgnj @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @spidori @lolottes

#minji's writing #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt

[wanderingconstellations]

fatui scara being obsessed with eating fem readers pussy inside his office <3 even when she’s so overstimulated she cries he won’t stop, even rutting into the bottom of the desk chair that she’s sitting on!!

pussydrunk Scara is happy Scara!!!

You were sobbing and whining about how overstimulated you were, but Scara just hushes you and continues to suck and prod at your folds.

He had your legs spread out to him, your cum dripping down on his office chair. He was lapping as your juices, eating you out like it was his last meal he can ever get. Your fingers were tangled in his indigo locks, you would usually pull him into your cunt even more but you were trying to push him away. He didn't give a damn though, you would always find him lapping at your cunt even after your many protests.

Your legs were quivering, and you found yourself orgasming on his tongue once again. He licked and swallowed all of your cum and juices once again, continuing to abuse your hole with the help of his tongue.

Did he give a fuck if his subordinates heard you both? Fuck no, as long as he's stuff in between your legs and thighs crushing his head, he'll be happy to die right here.

You moaned and whimpered, your eyes glistening with tears and cheeks all flushed crimson. He apparently gave up on keeping your legs spread out for him, and just let you crush his head with your thighs. It's not like he needs to breathe anyway.

He wouldn't stop until he satisfied, he didn't even damn care if he needs to breathe. His tongue would lick all of your pussy juices, and his mouth would happily suck on your sensitive nub, making you cum for him again then for him to do the process all over again.

#genshin imagines #genshin impact x you #smut brainrot #genshin impact scenarios #genshin smut #genshin impact #scaramouche x you #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin scara #scara smut #scara x reader #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin impact x female reader #fem reader

[babyleostuff]

svt on your birthday | ot13

❥ seungcheol 

i’m sure a lot of us would say that cheol would plan an expensive restaurant date, book a table at one of the more extravagant restaurants in town (he’d probably buy you a dress, and some jewellery to match it too), and treat you like a princess for the whole day. and as much as i agree with that, he’d also try to make it a bit more… nostalgic? like, at the end of your night he’d bring you to a place that means a lot to the both of you, and whip out a framed, old photo of you from one of your first dates, or pull out from god knows where your favourite flowers - you get the gist. he’s a lil big romantic at heart.

❥ jeonghan 

would plan something very low-key - not because he doesn’t care about your special day, but at the same time hannie doesn’t feel the need to be as extravagant as cheol to show you how deeply he cares about you. his sweet touches, gentle gazes, and a gift that he prepared a couple of months in advance would be more than enough. to be honest, except for the gift, he wouldn’t plan anything in particular. you’d wake up together, eat breakfast that he made, and then he’d ask you what you want to do. the end of your day would end up with lots of cuddles, and sweet kisses.

❥ joshua 

if there is one thing joshua doesn’t mind spending his money on it’s you. he’d probably prepare two gifts - one handmade by him, and one quite an expensive one, because you need to be spoiled on your birthday (and any other day). as for the plans for the day, i think it’d be pretty similar to jeonghan’s - as long as you spend it together it’s all good. he’d maybe take you out on a nice walk, and buy you street food, or take you to some sort of faire or market if it was in town. something very chill, so you could spend some quality time together.

❥ jun 

i feel like jun would try to surprise you with something, whether it be a gift or an activity. nothing too big, but meaningful to you. why do i have a feeling that the surprise wouldn’t really work, though, - either he’d spoil it, or you’d find about it by accident, but nonetheless, your birthday would be perfect. you’d spend the whole day together, maybe you’d go out with a couple of your closest friends, do some fun activities, eat and drink a lot, and at the end of the day jun would either take you to like a “special place” for you, or if you were too tired he’d take you home, and give you his gift with tons of shy kisses and hugs.

❥ hoshi 

he’d definetly plan something crazy, you’d not be bored - that’s for sure. he’d wake you up at dawn by jumping on the bed or playing loud music, and singing into your ear. his energy would be impossible that day, even more so than usual (he’d be that excited to celebrate your birthday). after rudely waking you up (with love), hoshi would drag you to the kitchen and make you eat the breakfast that he had prepared (he almost burned the house down), and then take you out on your super duper fun birthday excursion. the end of the day, though, would be very calm, and filled with sweet touches and hushed words of  “i love you’s” and “happy birthday”.

❥ wonwoo 

unlike hoshi, wonwoo would let you sleep in, and while usually he is the first one out of bed, he’d stay with you until you woke up (your first gift would be a bare-faced, and naked wonwoo cuddled into your side) (do i have to mention his adorable bed hair). he’d try his best to make you a nice breakfast, and that in itself would feel like the greatest present you could ever get. other than that, he’s the next member of the “chill squad”, because wonwoo wouldn’t have anything specific planned. he’d take you out on a nice meal, or maybe to a park to take some photos of you, so you’d have a nice memory of the day (the best one would be the one taken by a stranger, with wonwoo having his arms tightly wrapped around you, and you nuzzled into his side). of course the gift would be very well thought out, and he’d blush furiously while giving it to you.

❥ woozi 

okay, so bear with me - i know he’s usually locked up in his studio, and rarely leaves the place (thank you nana tour for changing that) (not that i have anything against him spending time in his studio), but why do i feel like he’d take you out of the city for a trip. nothing too big, it's not like you’d fly to another country, but like a 2-3 hour road trip. woozi would really try to make this day as special as he could, and going on a short getaway trip would be perfect. you’d walk around, eat, take a lot of pictures, and most importantly - spend some quality time together. at some point, like the most random one, he’d whip out his gift for you, and it’d be just as special as the trip.

❥ dk 

dk to me is such a romantic soul, and because of that i think he’d stress a lot (in a good way) about your birthday, to make it as special and memorable as possible. there would definitely be a lot of flowers involved, and multiple gifts, big and small, whether they’d be made by him or bought. he’d plan some nice activities - you’d go places that you wanted to visit before, but didn’t have the time too, get ice cream if your birthday was in the spring/ summer time, or go sledding if it’s in the winter time. at the end of the day you’d go to a nice restaurant, not as extravagant as cheol, but still more on the expensive side, because he has to spoil you. also, you’d definitely take some photo booth pictures that you’d hang on your fridge later.

❥ mingyu 

first gift? waking up to his cuddles, endless kisses, hugs, “i love you’s”, and migoo giggles. you’d probably spend the first of the day eating take out, watching bad movies, and talking about the most absurd topics there could be. the whole time, you’d be nuzzled into his naked chest, while he’d have his arm around your shoulder tightly holding you close to his body. you’d get up (with a lot of complaints from you, because what better way to spend your birthday than cuddled up with mingyu?) when the sun would start to set, and that’s when the real “party” would start. mingyu would take you out to some fun activities, like mini golf, or a bar where you could play pool and darts. then you’d go around the city, when most of the people would already be in their homes getting ready for bed, with mingyu's jacket draped around your shoulders.

❥ minghao 

i just know the gift you’d get from him would be perfect. it’d be so well thought out, and it’d definitely be something that’d mean a lot to you. minghao would give it to you right after you woke up, still drowsy from sleep. he’d probably coo at you, and kiss your forehead, while placing the gift on the bed with a lovesick smile. he’d incorporate anything that has to do with your hobbies throughout the day, because what’s better than making the love of your life smile and watch doing what they love. minghao would also be a lot more affectionate, in like the “physical touch” way, you wouldn’t be able to peel him off you, AND you can expect a call from the xu family, because his mom and dad loves you more than they love him. at the end of the day, you’d end up on the couch on facetime talking to his family, and eating your favourite take out. 

❥ seungkwan 

i feel like, similarly to mingyu, you’d spend the morning and afternoon in bed, cuddling, kissing, eating, and probably gossiping about everyone you know. it’d be so nice to just spend some time together, without having to worry about your work, or school. later, he’d take you out to a nice restaurant that he had booked in advance, and give you a bouquet of your favourite flowers. after - neither one of you would know how, you’d end up in the most random place in the city, probably getting lost (but it’s all right, as long as you are together it doesn't matter where you end up). after finally getting back home, you’d turn on a movie, and you’d cuddle under a blanket, where you’d fall asleep together.

❥ vernon 

he wouldn’t have anything planned. now, not because he doesn't care (of course he does), but because he wants to spend your day in the way that you want. you want to stay in bed? great, now you can cuddle for the whole day. you want to have a movie marathon? he’s on his way to the kitchen to make popcorn. you want to go out? vernon is already putting his shoes on. all that matters to him is that you’re together, and you get to spend the day as a lil lovesick couple that doesn’t care about anything except for each other. the only thing he has planned is the gift he has for you, which he’d be actually so nervous to give to you. because what if you don’t like it? what if you think it’s too sappy? but of course his gift would be perfect, just like the whole day.

❥ chan 

another one that i think is very romantic, so he’d stress about planning your birthday as well, because hello? there are so many things that could go wrong, and your special day has to be absolutely perfect. dino would wake you up with kisses on your cheeks, and forehead, while wishing you a happy birthday (he could be saying anything, you’d be too tired to understand what he’d be saying at that point). he’d give you your gift to unwrap while he’d be making breakfast (he’d be panicking so much, because one - what if you hate the gift, and two - what if he messes the food up? so you’d have to reassure him lots that you love the gift, and that the breakfast was delicious). same as dk, i think he’d love to take photobooth pictures with you, so you could put it behind your cases, and after your little photoshoot he’d take you out on a picking in the park (if the weather was be bad you’d have a picking in your living room).

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #seventeen reactions #svt reactions #seventeen kpop #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #seventeen carat #seventeen reaction #seventeen requests #seungcheol #jeonghan #joshua #woozi #wen junhui #wonwoo #vernon #svt #seungkwan #dino #svt woozi #mingyu #minghao #hoshi #chwe vernon

[d4yl1ghts]

Hi could I request an Anthony bridgerton x wife(reader) angst where he married his wife who used to be from the lower class and they end up having a fight because she did something that is “out of class or wrong” so she ends up giving him the silent treatment

unfair (1)

(mean?) anthony bridgerton x wife, fem!reader

summary: after benedict makes a rude comment about your past and anthony doesn’t do anything about it, you and anthony end up having an argument

A/N- i hope this is alright, i felt the need to make it have a happy ending

part 2

-

Your husband of three months sat beside you with your hand gently clasped in his. You were at his family’s house for a meal and Benedict had been getting on your last nerve, he had arrived drunk for a start. He had also been attacking your social status as you were from a lower class family. Anthony knew this was getting to you, so he took your hand in a way to calm you. “So, Y/N, how was it growing up in the streets?”, Benedict obliviously questioned. You knew he was only saying it because he was drunk but this was too far. “Would you please stop going at me for where I grew up?!”, you raised your voice slightly as you stood up.

“Darling, sit down.”, Anthony carefully whispered to you, as if one wrong move would set you off. “No, I’m not going to sit down! Are you just going to let your brother treat me like that?”, you said lowering your voice towards the end. “Of course he has no right to treat you like that but darling, there is no need to raise your voice.”, the eldest Bridgerton replied.

You sighed in defeat. How was he going to just allow this? You arose from your seat again, tucked your chair in and stormed off into the room the two of you were currently staying in.

Violet watched you leave and turned to Benedict: “You can not act like such towards your brother’s wife, Benedict.”

Benedict just watched her in amusement but she knew he would regret this when he had sobered up. “I do not care if you’re drunk, tomorrow morning you will apologise to Y/N as she has done nothing wrong.”

“And Anthony, will you go and check on Y/N instead of just sitting there?! She is your wife, you know!”, Violet exclaimed. Anthony rushed off silently, realising he had acted impulsively. He lightly knocked on the door of your shared bedroom. “My love?”, he tenderly called out to you through the door, making sure he was alright to come in. “Go away.”, you yelled back at him. He could hear light sniffles and sobs. He felt awfully bad.

“Can I please come in?”, he tried again. Silence. He took this as a sign to go in. He was met with you weeping into the sheets of your king-sized bed. “Come here darling, it is quite alright.”, he hushed you but you pushed him away, ignoring his presence. “That was out of class, my love.”, he’d whisper, caressing the back of your hand. You instantly removed your hand from his. “How dare you speak to me like that?! Get out.” He saw the build up of tears in your eyes and knew he must leave you alone for the moment.

Why did he say that? What caused him to say that?

He sat idly against the back of his bedroom door, listening to you silently crying. Anthony felt horrible, he caused this! After half an hour, you opened the door to an asleep Anthony. He looked so peaceful- until you opened the door and he fell back. “Are you okay?”, you asked, trying to hide your laugh. “Yes, I am fine I believe.”, he smiled, watching you laugh. He let out his own quiet chuckle. “About before, I’m so sorry, my love…”, he began. “I do not know what got into me, I’m so sorry.”, he said with a longing and genuine look in his gorgeous eyes. “If you are truly sorry then I guess it is fine, you do have such an impulsive nature.”

Anthony sighed with pleasure as he brought his lips up to yours and hastily and passionately kissed you, breathing you in.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton oneshot #fem!reader

[titanic-angel]

мιgυel o'нara х F!reader

◥︎ 『 coғғee ︎pт.1 』︎ ◣

▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎

ѕυммary ➞︎ yoυ вrιng мιgυel coғғee тo нelp нιм тнroυgн a long wor�� nιgнт

warnιngѕ ➞︎ none

noтeѕ ➞︎ part 2 is up ❤︎

▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎

The evening air was so dry in the summer, and the silence that invited itself into the coffee room buried deep in your skin. The tiles felt cold under your slippers, the setting sun stealing the heat and light from every inch of the room.

You let out a harsh breath, pouring the deep brown liquid into the two cups, staining the white glass with caffeine and steam.

You, Jess, and Peter B had made an agreement since your involvement in the Spider Society had started.

Miguel’s workaholism caused long periods of time, sometimes days, where he wouldn’t even leave his lair, chest deep in his own mind and perfectionism. You all initially believed that his inhumane attributes gave him the stamina to last weeks without rest, but after catching him in deep sleep on his own computer, you realized the goliath wasn’t, in fact, invincible.

So, like any good friends (although Miguel never really used those terms), you took shifts bringing him coffee. With the mugs, Peter and Mayday brought him laughter (all of which was their own, but there wasn’t an indication he didn’t appreciate it), Jess brought him a tough love and a listening ear that fueled his work and you…

Well you weren’t sure what you offered.

You never left without a conversation- and maybe a little coffee yourself. Sometimes he would explain whatever anomaly had taken his attention for the hour, or he would stay silent, listening to you talk about your own day, slightly less exhausting but much more exciting.

Most times, however, you’d give him his coffee, and without saying much, he would look at you.

You are convinced more and more each time that, years ago, his eyes were more brown than they were red. Deep bronze like the color of the coffee in his cup. Younger than they are now. Maybe it was his exhaustion seeping through his irises, but something in the way he looked at you…it felt softer.

Kinder.

You shook off the image as your slippers padded against the hallway marble, the once lively hub now hushed to an empty whisper.

Jess had gone to her universe, undoubtedly resting her weary body, and Peter B eagerly ran home to his beloved red-heads. Homes filled, endlessly, with reunions, warm meals and kisses doused in exhaustion and a love unique to them.

You were happy for them, but you would be lying if you told yourself that you weren’t envious.

Quietly, secretly, you much preferred the hub over your own home, it’s thrum of life filling the emptiness of your crammed apartment. It was depressing to go home to silence after a day of action, which meant many nights you slept in your office, feigning the stress of work and battles to avoid questions from your peers.

You stepped over stray wires and scraps of metal, amongst other abandoned equipment you were sure meant something, once. The dark room was illuminated in neon, flashing lights pulsing across the floor and ceiling.

His gigantic platform came into view, hovering over the pitch floor. The familiar sight of him, surrounded by yellow holograms, greeted your eyes with a brightness that made you squint, vision adjusting to the light.

You caught the butt-end of a conversation, Lyla glitching around his head with attitude. You kept your mouth shut, a little curious to hear their idle chat.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Miguel said, flatly.

“Don’t play stupid, I’m an incredibly intelligent A.I. I know fondness when I see it.”

“She brings me coffee- that’s all.”

You paused, muscles tense and the suggestion that they were talking about you.

“I don’t know Miguel~. Peter B and Jess do the same and you aren’t as soft with them.”

“I am not soft!”

“Sure, sure.”

Lyla’s hologram stuttered, and she suddenly focused you. Even from far below, you recognized her mischievous grin.

“Well, I’m feeling awfully tiered. It’s very late y’know! I’ll just let you do your thing!”

“But you don’t-“ Miguel followed her line of sight. He looked down at you with surprise, and you sent him an awkward wave through the cup handle.

“Bye!” Lyla’s drawn out y’s echoed even as she disappeared, Miguel’s hand swiping at the air before she vanished.

He let out a harsh sigh, and you slung up to his platform, handing him a cup. He looked at you again, that faint brown sparkling clearer tonight.

Strange.

“Thank you.”

You nodded, leaning against his table.

“Long night again?” You asked, thumb tracing the smooth glass of the handle.

Miguel nodded, letting another exhausted sigh escape his chest. “Yes.”

You waited for more, but it never came, Miguel shifting near awkwardly as he clicked on the screens with his free hand.

You nodded slowly, taking a sip of your cup. You shuddered, unfamiliar with the pure caffeine. You looked down at your cup, dark brown looking back.

Oh shit.

You watched in short-lived anticipation as he took a sip of your cup. He’s face scrunched in surprise, as if the sweetness of sugar and cream was completely foreign to him.

He looked at you, the red in his eyes more prominent now. Your cheeks strained, but soon the ballon of laughter burst from your chest.

It bounced off the dark walls, echoing around the both of you. You closed your eyes, squeezing out tears as you gripped his desk, laughter shaking your core.

When you regained yourself, you slowly sat up, wiping your wet cheeks and grinning ear to ear. You sighed, small laughs residing with your quickened breath.

“Oh, Miguel you should’ve see your-“

You stopped.

Miguel was smiling.

Well, in the generous sense of the word. Although it wasn’t bright like Peter B’s or gentle like Jess, it was genuine. His eyes crinkled, his lips drawn into a gentle upturn, highlighting his dimples.

Your shocked face must have startled it, because it quickly disappeared, now taught in a hardened, neutral line.

You smiled at him empathetically, slightly guilty you had embarrassed him. You reached out your hand, beckoning your drink.

“Here…let’s switch.”

You fingers brushed at the exchange, and you blushed, the warmth of his skin penetrating your own. If he noticed, he didn’t let it show, taking a quiet sip of his flavorless, bitter coffee.

An awkward silence fell over the two of you, agonizingly different from the laughter just seconds before.

You were beginning to think that he really only was fond of you because you brought him coffee. Sure, you had polite conversation but it never really passed surface level. Not to mention you always initiated it. Maybe Miguel was just playing along, desperately waiting for you to leave him to his work and study.

You sighed, your tone possibly letting on to more than you would’ve liked. You stood, flexing your legs and taking a sip from your cooling coffee, ready to breathe air that wasn’t so endlessly stiff.

“Why- why do you drink coffee with so much sweetness in it?”

You paused, looking at Miguel with surprise. He’d never asked you a question like that. A question about you.

“I uh- well,” you laughed a little bit, still a little startled at the sudden interjection, “black coffee is too bitter for me. The sugar and cream lets me enjoy it.”

“But coffee is meant to energize you, you aren’t supposed to enjoy it.”

You lifted a skeptical brow. “That’s a pretty serious take, don’t you think?”

Miguel paused, lips pressed together in thought before he replied, “I’m a serious guy.”

You laughed, a little quieter now, leaning back onto the table. But this time, closer to him. If you were paying attention, the way his eyes looked at your new position might of told you he noticed.

“I gathered.”

Silence fell over the two of you like a weighted blanket. But now, you had hope that he might want this conversation to continue. That he liked it- you.

“How about this Mr. Serious,” you leaned in, “I’ll give your black coffee another shot if you do the same for my sugar and cream.”

He scoffed, but when the corners of his mouth quirked up you knew the proposition interested him- if only a little bit.

“Absolutely not. I already did try it.”

“First impressions aren’t always accurate, y’know.” You shook your mug, the light brown liquid creating a small whirlpool.

“Try it? For me?”

He glanced at you, and although you thought yourself educated on his eyes and their looks, you were stumped by this one. It was entirely alien to you- there was something in it that you couldn’t place.

You liked it.

He let out a sigh, and held his hand out. You grinned, taking his mug and swapping it for your own.

You both took a sip, and you forced yourself not to wrinkle your nose.

His coffee was extremely bitter- as close as coffee could get to the bean. If his scowl and general demeanor was grown and grind into a beverage, his drink of choice is what it would taste like.

However, it was extremely warm. Somehow it hadn’t cooled off in the fifteen minutes since you had poured it. It’s bitter bliss seeped down your throat and made home in your chest. It was almost calming.

You opened your eyes, surprised to be as content as you were with the drink.

You glanced at Miguel, whose lips were pulled into a tight line. His brows were drawn in thought, eyes glimmering in the hologram light.

“Well?” You asked, rocking on your heels.

“You first.”

You paused, running your tongue over you teeth to remember. “It was a bit gross. But honestly? No bad.”

He nodded, and sighed. “Yours wasn’t….bad either.”

You gasped, a wide smile spreading across your face in stunned victory. “So you liked it.”

“I never said that.” He said, narrowing his brows.

You raised yours. “Didn’t have too.”

He shook his head, handing you the coffee mug. You looked at him as if to ask are you sure? To which he rolled his eyes and pushed it closer to your chest.

You sighed, taking his cup and swapping mugs for the last time. When you looked up at him, sending him a gentle smile, you noticed a thin line of cream that lined his dark lips. You stifled your laughter, stepping forward to a clueless and confused Miguel.

“What are you-“

“Stay put, you have a little-“

You brought your hand up to his face, cradling is course skin under your palm. Your movement stuttered, just for a moment, savoring the feeling of his rough jaw.

You lifted a gentle thumb, your touch but a whisper on his skin as wiped the sweetness from his upper lip. Contrary to his jaw, his lips were soft under your print, molding to your movement with ease.

You imagine they’d taste like coffee.

You paused, your eyes drifting from his lips to his eyes. When they met yours, they were the softest brown you’d ever remember seeing them. It could be how close you were, feeling his slow breath on your nose. It could be how small, short the moment was, catching his facade in a moment of weakness.

But you think, hopefully, foolishly, that it might be how good it felt- to be this close.

You drew your hand away, still staring at the warmth. You settled yourself on the floor, holding your cup with both hands, the once steaming glass now a cold comparison to his face.

“You…you had some cream left on your face.” You laughed weakly, your gaze looking to the side. “I didn’t want Lyla to make fun of you.”

You paused, uncomfortable with the silence your created.

“Sorry.”

Miguel stared at you for a moment, with that same glimmer you couldn’t quite place. He cleared is throat, eyes flitting between your eyes and your lips.

“It’s- okay…I-“ He paused, eyes finding your again, “thank you.”

He had whispered, speaking as though if he has said it any louder he would’ve scared you away. It was so- gentle compared to the gruffness of his voice. Warm.

The silence that followed was completely novel from the past dips in conversation. It was full of tension, thick and suffocating. It felt as if you had swallowed cement, every breath trapped in your collarbone and buried in your throat.

You stepped back, your vision so deep in his own- their intensity making it feel as though there wasn’t anything else to look at. Even in their softer colors, they were so deeply overwhelming it felt like they had woken something visceral in you. It wasn’t fear, or terror-

It was fondness.

“Well- I think I need to get my own rest,” you tore your gaze from his, setting your coffee down on the table next to him, “I won’t be needing this- I don’t want caffeine dreams. You’re welcome to finish it- now that you like it. A little.”

You smiled up at him, the thrum of your heart and the heat of your breath tickling your skin.

“Goodnight, Miguel.”

His chest rumbled, preparing to speak, before he sighed quietly and quickly, another genuine smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Goodnight.”

You took one last look at the brown- intimate and tailored to yours. One look at the coffee cups, different in every sense but comforting none the less.

One look at the man who may have just given you the home you’d been envious of.

As you slung off into the the void, you smiled at it all, welcoming the shudders of warmth that pooled in your stomach at the revelation.

︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎

The next morning, you woke up in your office yet again, the early morning chill crawling up your spine and beckoning you to wake.

The first thing your eyes were met with was your mug, matte in the morning light.

It was empty, a yellow note rested under it.

I didn’t want it to go to waste.

︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎

Part 2

#across the spiderverse #fanfiction #into the spider verse #spiderverse itsv #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderverse atsv #fanfic #fanfics #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara x you #atsv miguel #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara

[xjoonchildx]

kanalia | jhs x reader | final chapter: because i couldn't stay away

banner by the amazing @kth1 💕

⚜️summary: secrets and uncertainty plague a young queen in her arranged marriage to a kind but distant king. the farther she drifts from her husband, the closer she gets to one of his most trusted men.

⚜️pairing: queen!reader x royalguard!hoseok

⚜️rating: mature, 18+

⚜️genre: royal AU, historical AU, smut

⚜️warnings: infidelity (it’s complicated, y’all) mentions of pregnancy, fertility issues. OC struggles with depressive thoughts and episodes. smut warnings in effect.

⚜️word count: 10.2K

⚜️author's note: happy birthday month to my forever muse, jung hoseok. i hope that i did this poor, tortured version of you some justice. and yes, it did take me years to finish this story (😭) , but i did. thank you to every single who has ever taken an interest in this story and cared enough to stick with me through long delays and rough writing spells. once again, i have to shout out the OG @hobi-gif who lent her eyes to part of this story. i appreciate you all so much and if you enjoyed it, i would very much appreciate a reblog as well as your feedback.

thank you guys so, so much 💕

previous chapter masterlist

Love doesn't discriminate Between the sinners and the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep loving anyway We laugh and we cry and we break And we make our mistakes And if there's a reason I'm by her side When so many have tried Then I'm willing to wait for it I'm willing to wait for it

– “Wait for It”

Hamilton, An American Musical 

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

One perfect loop is followed by another. And another. And another.

You need not look back and check your work, not anymore. Now you know simply by the pull of the thread that each stitch you place is snug and uniform. You sit in your chair by the fire and repeat the motion over and over again, staring unseeing into the pattern in your lap. 

“It’s a beautiful day, Your Grace.”

Hyeri’s voice taps at the edges of your consciousness, muffled as though she’s standing outside the chamber door instead of seated right beside you. You ignore it and push another loop through the fabric.

“Not a cloud in the sky,” she persists, gentle. “Perfect conditions for a walk, if you feel up to it. I could even accompany you, if you wish?”

There was a time, not long ago, when Hyeri’s prodding would have set your teeth on edge. But you do not have the energy to muster any such emotion. And so you give Hyeri the same answer you’d given her the day before. And the day before that one. The same hushed words, spoken in the same decisive tone.

“I’m content to stay in today, Hyeri. Thank you.”

“Very well, Your Grace.”

She drops the matter with a quiet sigh.

It’s unlike her. The Hyeri you know would fret and fuss for as long as it took for you to relent; until you had no choice but to quit your chamber simply to enjoy a moment’s peace. The Hyeri you know would be shooing you away from the fire, prattling on about how one errant thread could catch and send your entire dress up in flames. 

But the Hyeri seated beside you does none of those things.

So you sink deeper into the plush chair perched in front of the hearth and watch the flames dance. The embers at the base of the fire glow deep red, putting off a heat blistering enough to scorch your bare feet. 

But you cannot feel it. You cannot feel anything.

You’ve surrendered to the weariness now; let it consume you. Allowed it to fuse itself to the very marrow of your bones. For days you’ve done little beyond sleep and spend your few waking hours seated by the fire, needle in hand. 

Twice you’ve left your chamber and neither time by choice, but rather because the King had insisted on your presence at dinner. To what end you still cannot be sure seeing as you’d taken both meals in stilted, awkward silence. Apparently His Grace is far less bold without a bit of ale in him.

“The hunting party leaves in three days' time,” Hyeri says. “There’s been quite a fuss in the kitchens over it. They’re taking enough supplies to travel for months, by the looks of it.”

You make a non-committal sound under your breath. Hyeri forges on, undeterred.

“There will be a send-off in the courtyard, of course. Will you – “ she pauses to choose her words carefully. “ – Well, I assume that you’ll want to see the King off.”

You do not want to see the King off. Were it not for his pigheaded adamance that you keep up appearances for the sake of this sham marriage, you’d be content to never see him again. But you’ll not tell Hyeri that. Not when she’s made it clear where her loyalties lie and not when she still holds on to the delusion that one day you’ll decide to embrace your role as the placeholder by the King’s side.

So you say nothing at all. The fire pops as one of the logs crumbles in the hearth.

Hyeri clears her throat. “Your Grace, I only want what’s best for you. Surely you know that by now? And I don’t want people casting aspersions, which they most certainly will do if you’re not there to see the King off. The staff is already asking questions about why you’ve not been seen in days.”

“Has he asked for me?”

Hyeri blinks. “The King?”

“Yes, Hyeri,” you say slowly. “The King. Has His Grace requested my presence at this send-off ceremony?”

The color seems to drain from her soft face as she admits, “No, Your Grace. He hasn’t.”

“Then I see no point in worrying yourself over the matter.”

You return your attention to your needlework and place another yellow thread in the center of your Mugunghwa flower’s pistil. The flames crackle in perfect, undisturbed silence. 

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

“It’s cold out there today,” Hyeri says. “But if you bundle up tight, it’s quite pleasant in the sunshine.”

“Thank you, Hyeri,” you reply evenly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

It’s a lie, and you both know it. You have no intention of leaving this chamber today and much to your relief, the King did not require your presence at his evening meal the night prior. Hyeri had ordered your dinner sent up and then proceeded to dine with you herself. An insidious voice inside your mind whispers she’s afraid to leave you alone.

You ignore it.

Instead you try to focus on your Mugunghwa flower. You study it, blinking until the riot of colors before you has clear, defined boundaries – fiery crimson at the center which slowly bleeds into a subdued pink which in turn dissipates into a milky white. You pull fresh white thread through your needle and set to work on the flower’s edges.

“Your needlework is much improved, Your Grace,” Hyeri notes. “You’ll be finished with that pattern by the end of the day, as I see it.”

You thumb over the fabric and consider her assessment. She’s right, you’ll be done with this pattern in a matter of hours. And the only thing that awaits on the other side is another pattern. And another. On and on and on. 

“Perhaps when you’re done, you’ll consider mending this for me,” Hyeri says, gesturing towards her lap. “My eyesight is not what it used to be. I’m terrified of ruining the old man’s beautiful design.”

You set your embroidery down and turn to look at Hyeri, gaze falling to the opulent plum fabric in her hands. Slowly, the details sharpen into focus. The rich velvet trim. The gold threads glinting back at you in the firelight. The room begins to tilt.

“A footman found it in the woods last night,” Hyeri explains, her cadence slow and deliberate. “By the stables.”

You are keenly aware of the way she watches you in the weighty seconds that follow, one gray eyebrow lifted as she awaits a response. You do your best to appear calm despite the panic clawing its way up your throat.

You’d lost that shawl in your mad dash back to the castle. You’d been tearing through the dark, paying little heed to the branches that tugged at your dress and occasionally scraped at your hands and face. One of them had caught the shawl, but you’d been so desperate to reach the refuge of your chamber that you’d hardly noticed when it was wrenched away. You’d had, after all, your humiliation to keep you warm.

And you’d earned it, hadn’t you? With your drunkenness. With your recklessness. You’d let every one of your baser emotions take control. You’d risked every advantage of your carefully curated life just to throw yourself like a wanton at the feet of one of your husband’s closest confidantes. Like a fool. 

When Lord Jung turned on his heels that night and abandoned you in the woods, he’d done far more than just rebuff your clumsy advances. 

He’d finished you. 

“Your Grace?” Hyeri’s curiosity is evident. “Are you alright?”

Hardly. Your mouth waters as your stomach threatens to cast up what little you’ve eaten today. One glimpse of that garment had been enough to bring a torrent of memories rushing back; vivid, awful memories that you’ve worked hard to banish to the deepest recesses of your mind. You grip the arm of your chair hard enough to make your knuckles go white. 

“Your Grace?”

You don’t answer until you’re sure that you won’t retch the very moment you open your mouth. Hyeri studies you in the interminable silence, lips parted in an expression of concern. Your tongue is thick when you finally collect yourself enough to speak.

“Please do thank the footman for me, Hyeri. And I think it best to leave the more intricate needlework to you.”

Hyeri stares as you reach for your needle and thread with trembling hands, but you don’t dare look her way. You try to place a loop at the edge of your flower but the Mugunghwa’s colors have gone blurry again and you’re forced to back the needle out and start over.

Perhaps there was a time when the Mugunghwa was as vivid as a rose. With petals of rich orange-red, opaque from pistil to tip. But perhaps it was asked to weather too many storms. Too many droughts. Too many winters. 

Perhaps the Mugunghwa looks the way it does today not because of how it was made, but rather what it’s had to endure. 

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

The first snow of the season arrives early.

You stand at your window and watch it fall, noting how quickly the fields turn from green to white. You press your fingertips to the windowpane and the cold seeps through it, chilling you instantly.

In the courtyard below, the horses are draped in heavy blankets. Stablehands scurry around them; dusting snow off their muzzles and checking their shoes. Footmen work in teams, sharing the weight of the heavy trunks they load on to waiting carts. 

“I’ll wear the blue walking dress today, Hyeri. The one with the white flowers on the bodice.”

“Your Grace?” Hyeri is on her feet at once to join you at the window. “You’ll see the king off, then?”

“I’ll need the matching cape too,” you direct, brushing her question aside as you watch the newly-packed trunks take on a layer of white snow. “If the conditions are as awful as they look.”

“Yes of course,” Hyeri breathes, hurriedly whirling about the chamber behind you as she gathers your things. In a matter of minutes she has you dressed and seated, fingers twisting your hair into a plait at the base of your neck. She loops the plait and pins it into an elegant bun, fingers smoothing the hairs into place before her hands come to rest on your shoulders. She squeezes them gently.

“I’ll not ask you why you’ve changed your mind, Your Grace,” she says softly. “But I’m so glad for it. It’s important that people see you. For them, of course, but for you most of all. And besides, you look so lovely.” 

You don’t feel lovely. In fact, you don’t feel anything at all. And if Hyeri had pressed you as to why you’ve changed your mind, she’d not be satisfied with your answer. You’ve changed your mind because you cannot bear to cause more conflict with the King. Because you have no desire to create a scandal that you’ll somehow have to fix. You’ve changed your mind because you have no fight in you left. This is the path of least resistance.

You rise from your seat and Hyeri’s hands fall away. She clutches them to her chest, rheumy eyes soft with sadness as she watches you take your place at the window once again. Outside the snow falls harder, and you watch the footmen leave deep divots in it with their boots.

“Tell me when it’s time,” you say quietly.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

You can scarcely recognize anyone in the throng of well-wishers gathered outside the castle.

They’re all bundled tight in winter coats and pelts; some wear hats and scarves. The snow doesn’t help either, and from the moment you enter the courtyard you’re grateful for your cape. Not only for the warmth of its thick lining, but for its hood, too. It affords you a bit of privacy in this otherwise very public affair.

You weave your way through the crowd and do your best not to make eye contact with anyone. Surely Boram is among those gathered with sweet Yeona in tow, here to see Lord Min off on his adventure. But you cannot bring yourself to seek her out – not when she’s already called on you twice without so much as an explanation for your disappearance. At any rate, you don’t think you could bear to look at her right now. To see the worry and concern you know you’ll find written all over her face. 

So you keep your hood pulled tight and your eyes down as you set off in search of the King. And you have no trouble finding him despite your reticence to make your presence known. It’s not just that he stands a head taller than most. It’s in his stature, in his stance – in that self-assured air that seems to come naturally to those born with power. He catches sight of you as he’s speaking to a footman and pauses, gaze locking on yours.

Your legs feel heavy. Your boots sink into the snow as you approach, each step more tiring than the last. When you are finally standing before the King you bow, dipping your head as you peer at him from beneath your hood.

“Your Grace,” he murmurs, lips twitching into a cautious half-smile. “I wasn’t sure you’d come down to say goodbye.”

“And yet I have,” you respond evenly. A snowflake lands on one of his long eyelashes and you resist the urge to reach out and sweep it away. “So I do very much hope that you are pleased.”

“I am pleased.”

The King reaches for your gloved hand. He waits a heartbeat before bringing it to his mouth and pressing a kiss to your leather-clad fingers. Beneath your hood, your cheeks burn. You withdraw your hand quickly and let it fall to your side. 

“Well. Then. I wish you a comfortable journey,” you say. “As well as a safe return.”

The two of you stand there for an awkward moment, the King’s expression expectant as though he’s waiting for you to say more. But you have no more to say. The words you’ve already offered him will do. They’re as empty as the vows you’d exchanged little more than a year ago.

“We ought to head out, Your Grace. We’re losing precious daylight and this weather will slow us as it is.”

The voice comes from somewhere in your periphery, but you need not see the man to know exactly who it is. Suddenly each breath you draw is painful, the frigid air pricking your lungs like a thousand tiny needles. You will yourself not to turn towards it, not to react in any way. 

“You’re right.” The King acknowledges Lord Jung with a brusque nod. “Have the stablehands check over the horses one more time.”

You won’t look at him. You can’t look at him. Not when the sound of his voice reverberates through every wounded place inside of you. Not when you can close your eyes and still feel the hot trickle of embarrassment that slid down your spine that night in the woods. But then he leaves you with no other choice.

“Your Grace.” 

The low timbre of Lord Jung’s greeting makes the fine hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end. You turn to him, slowly, and his dark eyes briefly connect with yours before he bends into a shallow bow. Your knees nearly give way when you return the gesture, along with a subdued, “My Lord.”

What must this man think of you now? What has he told the King? The nausea you’ve managed to stave off for days returns at once. 

You startle when a gloved hand wraps around your forearm and the King beckons you to face him. You flick your eyes up to meet his and find that they – along with his countenance – have darkened. By now Lord Jung is yards away, tending to his horse as the hunting party readies to embark. Your lungs ache with each deep pull of cold air.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, no. Not at all,” you insist, contriving a weak laugh. “I’m not accustomed to this kind of cold, is all. I’ll need to go back inside to get warm.”

The King’s brows furrow as he studies you. But you maintain your mild expression until his face relaxes and the disquiet subsides. He leans in to place a chaste kiss to your cheek. 

“Hyeri assures me you’ll be well taken care of in my absence.”

You lift the corners of your mouth in a gesture that you hope will pass for a smile.

“Thank you, Your Grace. Be well.”

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Hyeri does not protest when you ask to undress upon your return to the chamber. Nor does she fuss when you climb into bed with the morning sun still high in the sky. She simply presses a soft kiss to your hair, draws the curtains tight and leaves you with a whispered rest well. 

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Your chamber is dark when you wake but for the soft glow of a fire. 

As you come to, so does an ache in your temples, a quiet thud that pulses in time with your heartbeat. Your muscles protest as you roll onto your side to find Hyeri seated at the hearth. 

She’s yet to realize that you’ve roused and so you lie there for a while, studying her. She has a strange, far-away look in her eyes as she stares into the flames, her grip tight on a book in her lap. After a few minutes she opens the book and begins to thumb through it and you watch, curious, as she pulls a worn piece of vellum from between its pages.

She unfolds the missive and reads over it, face crumpling as she fights back a sob.

“Hyeri?”

The older woman nearly jumps out of her skin when you call out to her.  She hastily folds the vellum and slips it back into her book, smoothing down her dress as she stands at attention. “Your Grace,” she says, voice huskier than usual, “I hadn’t realized you were awake.”

“It’s alright,” you say absently, voice rough with sleep. You steal a look at the book left lying in Hyeri’s chair as she hurries over to bring you some water. Her countenance is that of someone who’s been caught doing something they shouldn’t have. You stare at the glass she offers you, watching the water slosh back and forth. 

Is she trembling?

“You ought to eat something,” she admonishes gently, waving a hand towards the food waiting on the table nearby. “You slept through the evening meal. I had my mind made up to wake you if you’d gone much longer, but thankfully I didn’t have to. So come,” she beckons, “Eat something. It will do you some good.”

Your stomach twinges at the mention of food. It’s been in upheaval for days now, and as such it’s been far too long since you had a proper meal. But whatever awaits in the dishes nearby smells enticing enough, so you allow Hyeri to help you out of bed. Your muscles are stiff with disuse and you grimace as you make your way to the table. Your eagle-eyed handmaid takes note.

“A long, hot bath will do you some good, too,” Hyeri remarks as you spoon lukewarm bulgogi onto your plate. You eat slowly as she busies herself with lighting the torches and stripping the linens from your bed. “I’ll have the maids bring up the water after you’ve had a chance to eat.”

You’ve only managed a few bites of the bulgogi before there’s an army of maids filing into the chamber, flitting about the room like a swarm of bees. You watch the entire affair in a daze as the maids make quick work of the tasks set before them: tidying and sweeping the chamber, draping your bed in fresh linens, filling the tub with steaming hot water. And when all the commotion is finally done, Hyeri dismisses them with strict orders not to return unless they are sent for. 

You are grateful at once for the silence that immediately falls over the chamber. Even Hyeri leaves you for a while, disappearing into the antechamber to prepare your toilette. But when you glance over at her chair, Hyeri’s book is gone. Along with whatever was written on the vellum inside.

“Come now, Your Grace,” Hyeri says, at last. “I’m ready for you.” 

She leads you into the bathing chamber, where the air is humid and sweet. Then she helps you out of your rumpled nightgown and holds out her hand. You accept it, leaning into her as you step over the tub’s steep rim. Slowly you ease yourself down, sucking in a breath as the heat blazes a path up your feet to your legs and thighs. The water is hot almost to the point of pain but you withstand it, sinking until it laps at your shoulders.

“I used rose oil tonight,” Hyeri says, kneeling behind you and cupping your head in her hands. “I thought you could do with a bit of pampering.” 

The delicate fragrance envelopes you, carried on the curls of steam that rise just above the water. You breathe in the soft, floral scent and close your eyes; try to clear your mind. Hyeri presses her thumbs to your temples and starts making firm, soothing circles. 

“I remember the very first moment I saw you,” Hyeri muses softly. “I’d been so impressed by your poise.” Her hands move to the column of your neck and she kneads at the tight muscles there, pulling the tension from them with each pass. “You were little more than a girl then, but I could still see that you were lovely, inside and out.”

Were you? You’re not sure that you would even recognize the girl that stepped out of that carriage so long ago. You’d been so idealistic – so certain of the comfortable life that you would find here. Of the affluence and status and yes, perhaps, even love that you’d enjoy once you’d ascended to the throne. But that girl had been a nitwit. The woman you are now will never entertain such foolish notions again.

“I know that so much of this has not been easy for you,” Hyeri continues, setting to work on your shoulders. “I know that there have been days when you’ve struggled to put one foot in front of the other. But you have. And that means something.”

It does mean something. It means that your mother’s great work is finally complete. She’d spent her entire life molding you into the polished, empty creature you are today. If only she could see you now; see how biddable and pathetic you’ve become. It would fill her to overflowing with joy.

“Anyhow, when you’ve lived as long as I have you realize that nothing is forever,” Hyeri says thoughtfully. “Same as what you’re going through right now, Your Grace. It won’t be forever.”

Nonsense. Hyeri cannot change the King’s heart. She cannot save you from a lifetime of awkward exchanges and forced smiles simply because she believes things can change. And she cannot will a child into your womb simply by decreeing that it should be so. The swell of emotion that surges inside you is more powerful than anything you’ve felt in days. And it’s anger. 

“Hyeri, stop,” you order tersely. “No more.”

Her face falls at that, features going slack with dismay. But she heeds you, holding back whatever she’d meant to say next. Then she reaches for the soap and begins to wash your hair in silence. You chase the beads of oil that float along the surface of the water with a fingertip, cheeks hot with embarrassment. You hadn’t meant to be ugly to Hyeri. 

But then you’ve done many things of late that you hadn’t meant to.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur.

“It’s alright, Your Grace. I know you meant no harm by it.” Hyeri dries her hands off and then rises to her feet, looking down at you with a kindness you do not deserve. “I’ll leave you to soak for a bit. You can have a few minutes of peace before I return.”

You’ve been unfair to her, haven’t you? The realization cuts you deep as you watch her retreat from the antechamber. She’s served you in so many ways since your arrival here: as caretaker and as advisor and as confidante. And how have you thanked her? By being cold and distant. By unleashing all the frustration and resentment you feel towards the King on her. And what of the tears you’d seen her hold back while she’d been sitting by the fire? Have you been so mired in your own anguish that you’ve neglected to see hers? 

The water has begun to cool and your skin has begun to pebble by the time Hyeri returns.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” she says upon her return, helping you out of the water. “The time got away from me. You must be freezing.”

“Only a little,” you lie, teeth chattering. Hyeri sets to drying you, throwing the damp linens on the floor to catch the rivulets of water that fall from your hair. Her dark eyes dart from your shoulders to your neck to your ears, but they do not meet yours. 

“Is something wrong, Hyeri?”

“No, no. Not at all,” she answers quickly, “Just a bit tired.” Her reassurance rings hollow because she keeps her eyes trained on the floor as she bends to reach for the rose oil. When she straightens, you catch her hand with yours, stilling her. 

“What were you reading tonight?”

Hyeri’s mouth opens in surprise and then quickly closes.

“I saw you sitting by the fire,” you admit. “You were reading something that looked to upset you.”

“And here I thought you were sleeping,” Hyeri grumbles, taking her hand back. She pours the oil into one palm and then warms it before pressing it to your neck, letting a long moment pass before she speaks. 

“It didn’t upset me,” she explains. “Not in a sad way. Those were happy tears, I suppose.” She pours oil into your hands and begins to gently massage it into your fingers. “It was a letter from my Sanghun, back when he’d been courting me so many years ago. You might find this hard to believe, but I wasn’t always the old woman you see now. I had more than my fair share of suitors.”

It’s not hard to believe. Time has been kind to Hyeri. Her features, though soft with age, are still striking. She must have been quite fetching as a young woman. 

“What made you choose Sanghun?” you ask.

“I don’t know that I had a choice in the matter at all,” she laughs as she helps you slip into a nightgown. “The moment I saw Sanghun, no other man existed for me. It was him or no one.” Her eyes go soft with a faraway look as she recounts the memory. “The other girls thought him too practical, too serious. But I saw a side of him that no one else saw. A part of him that was just for me.”

“You must miss him,” you say gently.

“Every day,” Hyeri admits. “Ten years he’s been gone and I think of him every day. Those letters remind me of what it’s like to be young and so in love that you’ll not see rhyme or reason. But –” she trails off and waves a hand as if fending off fresh tears. “Never mind that. Come sit.”

It’s unclear which of you she’s sparing from the memory. But as Hyeri begins working her comb through the lengths of your hair, you’re struck by how shortsighted you’ve been. There is suffering in never having the chance to love and be loved, certainly. But there is a different kind of suffering that comes with having that kind of love and then losing it. The thought humbles you.

Hyeri comes to stand behind you and begins working your wet hair into a loose plait.

“I’m sorry, Hyeri,” you say softly, gaze dropping to your hands. “I’m sorry that I haven’t thought to ask you about Sanghun. I haven’t been myself and I’ve just – “

Hyeri silences you with a soft hush. She secures your braid with a piece of linen and then drops to her knees to look her in the eye. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” she says softly, stroking a hand down the side of your face. “Nor do you owe anyone an explanation for feeling the things you feel.”

Her warmth thaws the frozen places inside you. It causes tears to spring to your eyes. And when she takes your hand in hers, you squeeze it gently — hoping that the gesture can convey the feelings you can’t put into words.

“Now put all of that behind you,” she says, smiling through her own unshed tears. “And come sit with me for a while.”

Hyeri leads the way into the chamber and you follow, only to stop short when the hearth comes into view.

When your gaze falls on the silhouetted figure near the fire, you nearly scream. You try to scream. But fear seizes your body, inch by inch – rooting your feet to the floor and closing around your throat like a shackle. You have no choice but stand there, staring in horrified silence as the figure begins to emerge from the shadows. In the span of one frantic heartbeat, the figure has a shape. In the next, it has a face. 

And in the next, it has a name.

“H-Hyeri?” you stammer, swaying on your feet as your legs threaten to give way. Your handmaid doesn’t answer and so you call out again, voice quivering. “Hyeri?”

You cannot take your eyes off the man standing before you. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, and so you stare as the firelight flickers over his stark, beautiful features. Shadows dance across his clenched jaw and knit brow. And his eyes – those dark eyes you know so well are fathomless, inscrutable – smoldering coal set in unblemished, unforgiving stone.

“Hyeri!“ you call out to her again, desperate – reluctantly tearing your gaze from the man to look for her. And when your eyes finally land on Hyeri, you find your handmaid standing near the chamber door, hands clasped together tightly. Streaks of color running up the thin skin of her neck and into her soft cheeks.

But she’s not surprised, is she? Not flummoxed in any way by finding Lord Jung lying in wait inside your private rooms. The realization comes over you slowly, wholly, until a strangle tingle runs from your scalp to the tips of your fingers. She’s arranged this, hasn’t she? 

“W-What is this?” The words leave you as more air than sound, but they ring out clear enough in the silence of your chamber. Lord Jung and Hyeri exchange a long look, but neither utters a sound.

“Someone speak!” you cry, wincing at the hysteria in your voice. 

Hyeri finally clears her throat, her face now fully aflame. “I believe the two of you – “ she pauses, swallowing hard. “Well, I believe the two of you have some things you need to discuss.”

Discuss? You and Lord Jung? Suddenly the panic you feel metastasizes, growing into something much darker. Has he come to admonish you, then? To punish you for your disloyalty? Has he come to lay bare every humiliating detail of that horrible night at the stables for Hyeri to hear? 

“No,” you whisper. You do your best to appear composed, despite the way your knees tremble. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Hyeri. I have nothing to discuss with Lord Jung.”

“Yes, you do.” The man in question speaks for the first time, his voice little more than a low rasp. “And we will.”

“No,” you repeat your refusal, shaking your head as though the movement will help sort your jumbled thoughts. “No. You have no right to turn up here and say what I will and will not do. And where did you come from? I saw you leave. I saw you mount your horse and ride off with – “

You stop yourself before you can finish the thought, flushing fiercely at the unspoken mention of the King. Your tedious, disinterested husband would be anything but if he had any inkling of this clandestine encounter.

“I was called back to the castle,” Lord Jung explains evenly. “A palace rider came bearing a missive bidding that I return at once to address an issue at the stables. I was but an hour’s ride away at the time.” Once again, he looks to Hyeri and they exchange another one of those maddening looks.

“But there was no issue at the stables,” you deduce quietly, the pieces falling into place, one by one. “Was there, Hyeri?” Your handmaid seems to shrink beneath the weight of the accusation in your eyes. 

“No, Your Grace,” she confesses weakly, “There was not.”

Oh, but your head is truly spinning now – each new revelation more disorienting than the last. How long have these two been conspiring together? What does Hyeri know about what’s transpired between you and Lord Jung? What does he know about the many private things you’ve shared with Hyeri? Both thoughts cause the bile in your stomach to rise.

“You can leave us now, Hyeri,” Lord Jung says. “Thank you.”  

Leave you? Has the man lost all good sense? You open your mouth to protest, but when met with the intensity in his glittering dark eyes, words fail you. You just stand there, mouth agape, rendered mute and immobile with shock. You look over at Hyeri, who has fixed her pleading eyes to your wide ones, her expression urging you to comply. And though you cannot make sense of a single thing that you’ve witnessed tonight, you do.

“Very well, My Lord,” she says quietly. “Rest well, Your Grace. The staff rouses at dawn.”

And with that Hyeri takes her leave, the chamber door closing behind her with a heavy thud that echoes the one in your chest.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Once you are alone with Lord Jung, you realize how truly vulnerable you are.

With little more than a thin nightgown to cover you, he can see far more of you than would ever be considered proper. All it would take was one shout from the man to bring the guards running, to compromise you both to the point of expulsion. Perhaps worse.

But the situation is far weightier than that. 

You’ve been vulnerable to this man from nearly the first moment you saw him. You’d been weak to his attention and charms. You’d allowed him to see you in ways that no one else has: not Chaehee, not Hyeri and certainly not the King. And the only time in your life that you’d thrown caution to the wind – and acted with abandon, not restraint – he’d mortified you. The memory of that night is a wound that’s just barely begun to heal, and now here Lord Jung stands, poised to pour salt on it. 

You’ll not allow him to devastate you again. 

“Go on then,” you say, lifting your chin and speaking with feigned bravado. “You’ve gone to great lengths to speak to me, so speak. I assume you’ll enlighten me as to which matter is so pressing that you felt the need to steal into my chamber and risk ruin for us both.”

“I know what I’m risking,” he growls. Then he stops to collect himself, exhaling deeply as he shoves a hand through his hair. “I know what we both stand to lose. But I could not come to you any other way.”

“Why have you come to me at all?” you demand. “You made your feelings quite clear the night of the festival, did you not?” You can no longer contain your bitterness and it drips from your every word. “You should go back to your sovereign, My Lord. Back to your King.”

Lord Jung looks stricken when you use his own words against him. There is a despair in his dark eyes that might have pained you once, but not now. Not anymore.

“You have every right to be angry with me, Your Grace,” he acknowledges. “And if you bid me to leave, then I will do so. But not without telling you the truth. You deserve to hear the truth.”

“Everything here is a lie. Perhaps you, most of all.”

He looks at you for a long moment before turning towards the hearth to gaze into the fire. Orange-red light illuminates his profile, sweeping across his smooth brow, over the elegant slope of his nose and down to his strong jaw. He is still the most beautiful – and most terrible man you’ve ever known.

“The King said he would give her up,” he says woodenly, staring into the flames. “When your marriage was announced, he swore it. And I believed him.”

Every muscle in your body pulls tight.

“I knew that he loved her. We all did. But he vowed that he would respect his father’s wishes and I’ve never known him to be a duplicitous man. I’ve never known him to say one thing and do another. And when I realized that he’d been deceiving you, deceiving us all, I – “ he stops and shakes his head at the memory. “ – I wasn’t thinking clearly. I confronted him at once and demanded that he explain himself.”

The argument in the courtyard. The memories come back to you in an instant. The way they’d both looked so irate, the way their voices would rise and then fall. Lord Jung turning his back on the King and stalking away into the dark. 

The tightness in your chest is unbearable now, viselike. 

“I was so damned angry,” he whispers, more to himself than to you. “Never once in my life have I imagined putting my hands on the King, but in that moment – I don’t know. I don’t know what I might have done had I not walked away. But I confronted him because I had to know why.”

He rips his gaze from the fire and turns to you, eyes flashing.

“And do you know what he told me? Do you know what he said when I asked him why he would insult you by keeping a lover? He told me that he couldn’t stay away. That he’d tried to do the honorable thing but he couldn’t stay away.”

“Why are you telling me this?” The tremor in your voice belies your pathetic attempt at composure. “If you mean to cause me pain, it’s too late. I’ve known about the King’s lover since the early days of this marriage, and I’ve accepted it. Just as I’ve accepted that I’ll never amount to more than a trinket he dusts off to show to his people.”

Lord Jung takes a step towards you, his beautiful face hard in the firelight. There’s a maelstrom behind his eyes, a polite violence that sets you to shiver.

“I’m telling you this because I need you to understand,” he says. “I want to hate him. I have tried to hate him. But I cannot. I have no position of honor to stand on. No rightful claim to virtue. I have no right to condemn the King for his sins when I have so many of my own to account for.”

“I – I don’t understand,” you say weakly.

“I have no right – “ his voice breaks, thick with emotion, “-- I have no right to denounce the King for coveting another woman.” He drags a hand down his face, distraught. “Not when I have spent every single day since you stepped out of that carriage coveting you.”

You stop breathing entirely.

“So no,” he continues, voice graveled. “I cannot bring myself to hate the King. And you were right to think me a liar. I’ve pretended that my nearness to you was benign, nothing more than an act of service. I’ve tried to make myself look honorable to you, when I have been anything but. I’ve been a liar since the moment I met you.”

You are trembling now, head to toe. Rendered speechless by Lord Jung’s confession. Slowly, the maelstrom in his eyes starts to recede. He looks as vulnerable now as you feel. 

“You deserved to know the truth,” he says quietly. “If from no one else, than from me.” 

There is a heavy silence in the seconds it takes you to find your voice.

“My Lord, I – “

“Don’t call me that,” he pleads. “Please. Not now. Not when I’ve come to you like this.”

“Very well, Hoseok. But you sent me away. In the woods that night, I’d asked you to – “ you stop, not wanting to say the words aloud. “What’s changed? Why are you telling me this now?”

“I have tried to leave you alone.” His voice is ragged now, anguished. “I thought if I could just put some distance between us – if I rose earlier and worked harder and retired later – that I could exhaust this need out of me. But I can’t.” Torment is etched into every line of his beautiful face. It makes you want to reach out and touch him but you resist, uncertainty keeping your hands pinned to your sides.

“I cannot war with myself any longer,” he says hoarsely. “I cannot continue to lie to you or myself. And if he is not willing to give you the things you desire, then I will.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, your neck. It gathers in your belly, too.

“So if you’re asking me why now?” he says, taking another step towards you, closing what little distance remains. “It’s because I couldn’t stay away.”

He touches you then, takes your face into one warm hand and strokes his fingers down your temple, smooths the pad of his thumb over your lips. The featherlight touch raises goosebumps all over your skin. It’s more intimate than anything you’ve ever experienced with the King. 

“Do you still want me to kiss you?” he murmurs. 

“No,” you breathe. “I want so much more than that.”

He looks at you with such heat that the warmth in your belly goes molten. Then he presses his mouth to yours and slowly coaxes it open with gentle strokes of his tongue. He tastes of whiskey and smells of fine, heady soap and he does not relent until you are panting. Moisture gathers at the juncture of your thighs, beneath your thin nightgown.

But suddenly you are apprehensive. You’ve no idea how to kiss a man properly, much less satisfy him as a lover. And you’re not sure that you could ever live down the shame of disappointing him. When he finally pulls away to look down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, you have no choice but to confess.

“There’s something you should know, Hoseok,” you say, the sound of his given name still foreign in your mouth. “It’s just that – well, I am by no means a maiden but in some respects, I might as well be. I know almost nothing about how to please you.”

Anger flashes in his eyes, and for one terrifying moment you fear it’s for you.

“That is through no fault of your own,” he says darkly. “And if he’s been too much of a fool to see to your needs, then so be it.” He dips his head to press a kiss to your ear, then whispers, “Your pleasure will be mine and mine alone.”

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Hoseok spends an inordinate amount of time tending to the fire. 

You sit on the edge of your bed and watch him, feverish with anticipation as he moves the weakest logs and adds fresh ones. Once he’s satisfied, once the chamber is glowing with fresh flames and warmth, he cleans his hands and comes to you.

Your heart rattles harder with each step he takes towards your bed. 

When he’s finally standing at the foot of your bed, he takes off his belt. And then reaches behind his head to pull his tunic away. The sight of his bare chest is enough to make your mouth go dry. His body is lithe and sleek and strong, his muscles rippling as he puts his hands down on either side of you and lowers his mouth to yours for a kiss.

“Tonight is about you, pretty bird,” he murmurs, trailing more kisses across your cheek, down your neck. “So I want you to tell me everything you want.”

“I want to see you.” The words leave you in a rush an account of the way his mouth moves from the juncture of your neck and to the hollow of your collarbone. “All of you.”

Hoseok wastes no time in straightening to his full height to remove his breeches, and then his smallclothes. And try as you might not to stare, it cannot be helped. You’ve never been able to study a man like this. Not even the King.

“Can I touch you?” 

“Please,” he groans.

And then you are cautiously reaching for him, wrapping a hand around the length of him, marveling at the way he pulses in your palm. You run your fingertips down the skin of his shaft, awestruck by how silky and warm he is. But when your fingers reach the blunt head of him, he flinches.

“I don’t – I’m sorry,” you say quickly. “Did I hurt you?

“No, no. You didn’t hurt me,” he assures you, his voice sounding a bit strangled. “I’m just sensitive there, is all.”

“Will you show me, then?” you ask, curiosity far stronger than any self-consciousness you might feel. “Show me how to touch you.”

“Of course.”

He sits down on the bed beside you, taking hold of your hand. And then you watch with a heady mix of confusion and excitement as he takes your fingers into his mouth one, by one. He finishes the unfamiliar preparation by licking a long stripe up the palm of your hand. The stroke of his tongue sends a bolt of desire racing through you.

“It’s easier like this,” he explains, guiding your hand back to his length. You take hold of him again and this time he wraps his hand around yours. He moves your hand for you, up and down the length of him, until you can feel him growing hotter and harder in your hand. You’re fascinated by it all – by how firmly he wants to be touched, by how labored his breathing becomes, by the way the muscle and sinew in his legs seem to twitch at your command.

He leans over to capture your mouth as he begins to buck into your hand in earnest. And after a while his own hand falls away, leaving you to take control of his pleasure. And what an intoxicating power he’s given you – taut muscles in his abdomen flexing with each of his strained breaths.

“That feels so good, pretty bird,” he groans, taking your bottom lip between his teeth. “Just right. Your hand feels so good around me like this.” 

The wetness you’d felt between your thighs when he’d kissed you the first time returns, and each sound of pleasure he rewards you with makes you wetter and warmer. He is rock hard in your hand now, the dusky head of his manhood shiny with moisture. You watch a bead of it appear at the tip and you slide your fingertips over it, transfixed by how smooth it feels. Beside you, Hoseok shudders.

“I think that’s enough for now,” he says, breathless. “I’ll be of no use to you if you keep that up for much longer.”

You have half a mind to protest, but then his hands are sliding over the thin material of your nightgown, cupping your breasts through the gauzy fabric. He takes one of your nipples between his fingers and teases it until it’s standing at attention. You sigh.

“Can I take this off?” he whispers, pulling at the nightgown. 

You hesitate. Not even the King has seen you nude. Not once has he ever asked you to remove your nightgown and so for a long time, that is what you’d assumed he preferred. That is, until you’d caught him in bed with his lover. 

“Look at me,” Hoseok says, sensing your anxiety. He tips your chin up until your gaze meets his own. “I’ll not ask you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. But I would be lying if I said that I didn’t want to use my mouth and hands on you. On all of you.”

You inhale deeply, flustered by the way he speaks so plainly about his desires. But that’s what you want, isn’t it? What you’ve longed for all this time. And that’s what he’s promised you, isn’t it? Pleasure. Pleasure that will be his and his alone. 

You draw your nightgown up to your thighs and then raise up to pull it even higher. When you’ve finally discarded it, when there is nothing left between you and Hoseok you flush, looking away.

“You have nothing to hide,” he rasps. “You’re beautiful. Believe me, pretty bird – you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

Emboldened by the praise, you draw nearer to him and trace the outline of his heart-shaped mouth with one finger. And then it is your lips that find his; your tongue that moves past the seam of his lips and your teeth that find the shell of his ear. You thread your fingers in his hair, and he groans, gathering you close.

“You can’t imagine how many nights I’ve dreamed of you like this,” he says, gently laying you back on the bed. “You can’t imagine how many nights I’ve taken myself in hand to these fantasies.”

Oh, but you can imagine, can’t you? The few times you’d dared to try and seek your own pleasure, it had been him in your mind’s eye as your hand was between your legs. It had always been him. 

Hoseok’s mouth leaves yours and when it  finds the tip of one aching breast, you gasp.

“Do you like that?” he goads, laving your nipple with his tongue, taking it between his teeth. The pang of pleasure he incites in you is so sharp, you cry out. “Your body is so responsive,” he murmurs. “So damned responsive.”

There is only so much of that particular torture you can take, and so when his mouth finally leaves your breasts you exhale a sigh of relief. But then his mouth is on your sternum, and then your stomach, and then –

You freeze.

“I want to kiss you here,” Hoseok explains, cupping your mound with one large hand. “I promised you pleasure and this is the surest way to it. Will you let me?”

He looks up at you from the edge of the bed, his dark hair wild and his dark eyes glossy with desire, his mouth hovering over your most secret place. Your pulse skitters, heart pounding erratically at the thought of him kissing you there.

“Is it – is it proper?” you ask, chiding yourself at once for asking such a stupid question. Your face flames when Hoseok raises a brow. “I don’t know that I’ve ever thought to consider the … propriety of such an act,” he says slowly. “But I know that you’ll enjoy it if you allow me to show you. And if you don’t enjoy it, I’ll stop.”

In the seconds that follow, you think about the way he’d let you take him in hand. How he’d showed you how to bring him pleasure, without reserve. How powerful you’d felt when he’d been shuddering under your touch. He’d trusted you, hadn’t he? Just as you now must trust him.

“Alright,” you whisper, nodding your assent. “I trust you.”

He grins at you then, wickedly, before lowering his mouth to your mons. And then he is kissing you there, softly, each brush of his lips moving lower and lower still. Until you feel the heat of his breath at your entrance. You tense.

“Relax for me,” he instructs, licking a long, wet stripe up the length of you. The touch sends a frisson of sensation shooting through your limbs. “Close your eyes and try to think of nothing but this.”

And then he sets his tongue to the tiny pearl at your entrance. 

And at once, you see stars.

“H-Hoseok!” you gasp, your hips flying off the bed at the contact. The urge to snap your legs shut is almost as strong as the urge to push deeper into the pleasing press of his tongue. Almost.

But he pins your legs down with his arms and continues the onslaught, stroking and licking at you with his tongue, nipping at you with his teeth. You grab fistfulls of the duvet as though it might ground you somehow, keep you from bursting into flame.

And then he slides one long finger into you.

You are incoherent now, moaning and begging in broken sentences that do not make sense. But your body is responding in ways that your words cannot, hips moving in time with his mouth. Each pass of his tongue sends sharp spikes of pleasure to your core. You’d thought you’d known what this pleasure felt like, that perhaps you’d be able to reach it on your own someday, but never once had it been like this. 

And then you can feel it – the coil turning inside you, the desperate ascent to the one place you’ve never been able to reach. And it’s so close, so so close – the promise of whatever awaits on the other side strong enough to sate this nameless craving that you’ve felt for so long. It’s within your reach now, if only you can just hold on.

And then it stops.

He takes his mouth and tongue away and the pleasure vanishes. “Hoseok, no,” you cry, sapped of all energy, robbed once again of the relief you so desperately seek. “Please,” you beg weakly, “please.”

But he’s at your side now, the length of his body resting against yours, his manhood hard and hot against your leg. “Come now, pretty bird,” he soothes, “I didn’t bring you this high just to let you fall.”

He presses his lips to your ear at the same time he presses his fingers back to the aching bud between your thighs. “Go on then,” he whispers. “Fly.”

He brings every sensation he’d wrought from you rushing back with his fingers. His mouth hovers at your ear, whispering his encouragement until the coil inside you snaps. He must have known that you’d not be able to contain yourself when you came apart because he covers your mouth with his own, swallowing the sobs he wrenches from you, bringing you down slowly as you come apart.

And when you finally come to your senses again, when your breathing has evened and your heart has slowed and every part of you feels liquid and languid, he smiles.

“I couldn’t risk you waking the entire castle,” he explains apologetically, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” you shudder through your quiet laughter, aftershocks of sensation rippling through you. “Quite the opposite, in fact. I’ve never – never experienced anything like that.”

“That’s mine,” he murmurs, going up on one elbow. “Just as I told you it would be.”

Indeed. But what about his pleasure? The firm reminder of it remains pressed against you, the rigid length of it leaking onto your duvet. You reach for it and he draws a sharp breath through his clenched teeth.

“I want to feel you inside me,” you say softly, noting the way a muscle tics in his jaw. You wrap your hand around him and squeeze, astounded by how feverishly hot he feels. “Please.”

Hoseok nods, climbing over you and settling his hips between your thighs. He takes himself in hand and when you feel the blunt head of him at your entrance, you tense again. But he doesn’t enter you right away. Instead he looks down at you, his dark eyes brimming with emotion.

“Are you certain,” he breathes, his brow dotted with a fine sheen of sweat. “I need to hear you say it.”

You lift up to kiss him, pressing your lips to his. “Take me, Hoseok,” you whisper. “Now.”

And in one sure stroke, he’s buried to the hilt inside you. 

Bodies sealed, fates sealed.

The force of his entry steals the breath from your lungs. And though you’ve been breached before, it’s never felt like this. You’re still sensitive from the pleasure he’d given you only moments before and each of his thrusts only heightens the sensation. 

You cling to him as he rocks against you, closing your eyes to revel in the fullness. He buries his head in your neck and thrusts harder, the sound of his skin meeting yours just as gratifying as it is lurid. And when he reaches between you to press his fingers to your pearl once again, impossibly you feel fresh pleasure begin to bloom.

Broken phrases fall from his lips, a string of curses and blessings and everything in between. And his coarse language doesn’t scandalize you; in fact it only causes you to hurtle towards the peak faster. And then you’re flying again – flying apart, scattering into a million pieces. Crying into his mouth as your release explodes into color and tiny wisps of fire slowly drift back to the earth.

But you come back to yourself just as his rhythm has started to falter, just as the steady cant of his hips becomes so frenetic that you know his own release is near. You have only a moment to mourn the loss of his weight and his warmth before he’s on his knees before you.

You’ve never seen anything more erotic. Firelight flickers over him as he throws his head back, the cords in his neck clenching as he takes himself in hand. And then he is groaning, long and low, as his release spills on to the duvet.

Then he collapses onto you, wrapping you up in his arms, turning you both until he’s on his back and your head rests upon his chest. And then you both lie there for a while, skin to skin,  watching the flames cast shadows on the stone.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Neither one of you sleep, the threat of dawn too near to indulge in any such luxury. 

“What happens now, Hoseok?”

You ask the question after he’s made love to you a second time, both of you too exhausted to move. Hoseok inhales and exhales deeply. “I don’t know. I have no control over the world outside of that chamber door, pretty bird.”

You map the lines of his chest with one finger, thoughtful.

“You told me earlier that if the King would not give me the things I desire, you would. Did you mean that?”

“I did,” Hoseok says, pressing a kiss to your hair. “If it’s within my power, then I will. I will give you anything I can.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. “Thank you.”

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

You sit by the window and take in the afternoon sunlight, eyes drooping as you fight to stay awake.

You cannot ever remember being so tired. You sleep in fits and starts now, two or three hours at a time. And your body is too fatigued to talk up walking again, though the fresh air and exercise would do you some good. But you will walk again, soon. It won’t be long before you’re sitting with your birds and reading in the gentle Spring breeze.

Hyeri charges into the room like a bull, the tea tray in her hand clattering loudly. You narrow her eyes at her as she approaches and she fixes you with a sardonic look.“Oh, hush you,” she grumbles, setting the tray down on the table and walking over to you. “I wasn’t that loud.”

But her scowl falls away as her gaze locks on the baby at your breast, her muted eyes glowing with admiration. 

“That’s a fine Prince you have there, Your Grace,” she says softly. Then she looks up at you and her scowl returns. “Though at the rate you’re going, I’ll never get to hold him, will I? You’ve an entire staff to help you with him, and still you refuse. You’re going to make that boy rotten.”

You chuckle under your breath as you stroke your hand over the tuft of downy hair at your son’s crown. He blinks up at you with his huge dark eyes, and your heart is filled to overflowing with a love that you once you thought you’d never know. 

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

y,all i finished it! hahah okay so listen. if you'd like to talk to me, i'd love to hear from you. please consider reblogging and dropping me an ask 💕

#hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #j-hope smut #j-hope x reader #bts smut #bts fic #bts x reader

[pink-princess-pussy-pop]

Welcome Home - King Ben x Reader Smut!

Warnings: smut, ben cusses :)

Request: Hi! Could i request a king ben smut where he has like a tough meeting about some other country and goes into his office where the reader is waiting for him all sweetly and he just bends her over his desk and gets his frustrations out?

(The way he smiles makes my insides CHURN.)

Everything was planned to a T. After being gone for two weeks, visiting King Charming and Queen Cinderella, Ben was finally returning.

Chad had unfortunately, but not surprisingly, done a stupid business deal with some pirates off the coast of Auradon. Since he was technically in Auradon waters, Ben was the one who had to handle it. After sorting out the issues with the pirates, he’d gone to King Charming’s castle to discuss the matter further, leaving you to govern Auradon.

Not that you minded, you just missed your husband. A great deal. So his arrival needed to be perfect.

His plane would arrive the next morning and so you had taken the initiative to have everything prepared. You’d asked the staff to prepare his favorite meals, planned a date for the next evening, and as your own added touch, we’re now setting the biggest vase of blue roses on his desk.

You opened your phone, looking at the last text he’d sent you.

It was from this morning,

See you soon, my love.

You simply couldn’t wait.

Your days were lonely without him, as were the nights. And selfishly, you’d been missing something else. These past two weeks was the longest you and Ben had ever been apart and your body was definitely feeling the repercussions.

You really missed Ben.

ALL of Ben.

As you turned around, the door to his office opened. Your head looked backwards and your heart jumped at the sight of your husband. His bag fell to the floor at the sight of you.

You froze in place, leaning back on his desk.

“Wha- why are you back?”

He smiles.

“Wanted to surprise you. Didn’t think you’d be in my office, sweetheart.” He walks closer to you. “Are you not happy to see me?” His brow arches.

“No, I am I’m just confused-“ Your words are cut off by a kiss. Ben lifts you up sit on his desk, stepping between your thighs. As much as you want to give in, you push against his chest. “Wait, Ben… how was the meeting?”

His eyes roll.

"Horrible. Chad's dad is an asshole. Chad is an asshole. The pirates were assholes. Now, I'm finally home and I'd really, really like to fuck my wife. Is that okay with you?" His eyes flicker down to your lips then back up to your eyes.

"Uh... yeah sure. That's cool."

"Great." His hand wraps around your head, pulling you into him again, lips meeting yours. Your hands find his face, thumbs sliding over his cheeks and pull him closer.

His fingers trail down your body and then grab your waist.

"Ben..." He keeps kissing you. "Do you maybe wanna..." Another. "Go back to our room?" His fingers play with the hem of your blue dress.

His voice comes out hoarse and deep.

"No, I think we are gonna stay right here."

Ben's lips attached to your neck, fingers threading up into your hair to tilt your head back.

The other hand begins pushing your skirt up higher and higher. Your breathing turns uneven as your eyes dart around, hoping no one is going to walk in on your escapades.

"Ben, are you sure..." He pulls away harshly, glaring at you.

"Do I need to bend you over my desk, Y/N?" You suck in a breath as a deep blush crosses your cheeks. His eyebrows raise because of course he notices and then his eyes roll. "Oh for fucks sake."

And then before you can even blink, Ben has you bent over his desk with your skirt over your hips.

You whine as his hips roll into yours, fingers curling over the edge of his desk. Your head turns, ready to glare at him when he rips your underwear clean off.

Your eyes widen in surprise, stammering out his name but go silent when you feel him podding at your entrance.

His voice is hushed next to your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body.

"A loss for words, honey?" His fingers tighten on your hips as he pushes into you. Your knuckles turn white as your grip on the table tightens as well. He gives you no time to adjust to him and begins ramming into you. You shove your face into your arm, biting the flesh to contain your lewd sounds. "Fuckin' hell. Missed you so much."

One of Ben's hands leaves your side to press down on your back and you arch in response. Though you cannot see him, Ben grins. He loves your body's response to his. He can never get enough.

His jaw sets as he nears his orgasm, he'd missed you so much that he could barely hold it in. The sounds of his groans fill the office, along with the slapping of hips and the wetness of your core.

Desperate to make you come before him, his fingers dip between your conjoined hips to circle your clit. You jolt in response, an especially loud moan escaping your throat, boosting Ben's already inflated ego even more.

Before either of you know it, your pelvic muscles squeezing uncontrollably around him and his body collapses onto yours, absolutely spent. The two of you are silent while you come down from your highs and then Ben places soft kisses across your shoulders.

"Welcome home, my king." He groans as he feels himself harden inside of you.

"Oh, honey..." He pulls back, ready for round two. "Welcome home indeed."

Not sure if this is what you had in mind but there ya go. Hope you enjoy:)

#ben descendants smut #ben florian #ben x reader #king ben #ben florian x reader #ben descendants #descendants king ben #descendants smut #descendants

[imwetforyourmom]

heading for the door pt2

pt1

summary: what happens after the breakup?

warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of lack of eating, crying, swearing, fem!reader, ive never been in a club so mb if its poorly described, meantions of drinking and alcohol, help yall idk what else

sorry this took so longg

~

y/n held her knees to her chest as she sat on her bed. she was only staring at the wall infront of her. the creamish popcorn wall. nothing special about it, nothing special going on.

the only special thing she could think about was matt, even though she knew she shouldn’t. she was only tearing herself down more and more.

the thoughs of matt holding her, mumbling hush words to her with a sweet and caring tone of voice, the memories of them going on picnic dates together and laughing and giggling the entire time came flooding back to her, just as her tears did, overflowing from her eyes.

the realization of her actions and what had happened only sunk in after matt left, and that was almost a week ago.

she’d been in bed all week, no motivation to get up, shower, get dressed, nothing. she couldnt bring herself to move herself to do important things, such as eating, the last she’d eaten was almost two days ago.

but as of right now she couldnt focus on the gurgling and rumbling of her tummy, the way her body ached, the constant pounding in her head, the overwhelming thoughts, no. all she could think about was how she’d never feel matts touch, hear his voice, see his clothes lying around, as much as she hated picking all of it up, now she’d absolutely kill to be able to do it again.

but no. everything, absolutely everything was gone. and there was nothing she could do about it, except wait until something happened, just hope that maybe she’d find the motivation to move her sore and aching body off the bed, take a nice and warm shower, brush her teeth and take care of herself, eat a delicious and big meal.

she hated how she felt, how she couldn’t even look at a bracelet on her dresser, a bracelet her and matt had made to celebrate their two year anniversary. their two years of loving one another, two years of giving as much attention and affection as possible, spending two years of their lives together.

all of that was gone. she couldnt relive any of it, she couldnt bring it back somehow, she couldnt do anything except accept that she ruined everything, she ruined the love they had for eachother, the life they built together.

“am I not good enough for you?” the words rung through y/ns head, being all she could hear. the words she never wished to come out of her matt. the words she absolutely hated since he spoke them. she hated the way they made her feel. she hated how she felt sick to her stomach when the words processed through y/ns head.

knowing that he felt as if he wasnt enough and was basically worthless to y/n absolutely destroyed her. knowing matt was everything, everything. he was everything to her. without him she didnt feel like herself, and now that he was gone and gone for most likely forever she’d always feel this way.

she couldn’t feel complete, a part of her would be missing for forever and she’d never feel comfortable with herself. never feel normal. never feel the same joy she felt when she was with matt.

god, she built her entire life around matt, relying on him for her everything, her happiness, her grounding, her safety and comfort. she was so used to being with him, that everything she saw or heard reminded her of him, and what did that do? nothing. it only made her feel worse.

• • •

“come on y/nnn, you havent left your bed in a weekk, just come out, and you’ll feel better.” the text read, y/n stared for a moment, thinking all the thoughts of what would happen if she went out.

what if she saw matt? it wouldnt matter. they’ve broken up anyways.

what if another man reminds her of him and she breaks down and sobs? highly doubt that would happen, matts one in a million.

what if she gets black out drunk and calls matt? she hopes she does, maybe they’ll get back together.

y/ns thumbs moved across her keyboard quickly, pressing the letters and forming a sentence.

reading it over and over again, y/n made sure this is what she wanted and what she wanted only, not basing it off of anything to do with matt.

“yeah ill come out. pick me up at 9.” she pressed send and clicked her phone off.

she took in a breath, moving her legs to the side of the bed, pushing them to the edge and onto the floor.

the harsh cold wood on y/ns feet(sies) reminding her this was reality and not some stupid dream she’d made up.

• • •

y/n quickly thanked the uber before stepping foot out of the car, immediately being greeted with a very enthusiastic “hiii!!” by ryleigh, her voice high pitched as she wrapped her arms around y/n.

y/ns arms wrapped around ryleighs body, saying a quick “hi” aswell, maybe a small smile at her lips. she still felt disgusted with herself, with what she did to matt. she’d never be able to feel the way she did before she’d done what she did to matt.

hell, she couldnt even utter the words of what she’d done. the words brought her great pain, a nauseous feeling to her stomach and tears to her eyes.

“are you readyy?” ryleigh asked, her voice just as comforting and encouraging as y/n needed it to be.

ryleigh pulled away from the hug, her grin ultimately comforting y/n and reminding her she was in a safe space with ryleigh.

“yess! by the way, love the dress babe, you look beautiful!” y/n answered, her lips curving into a grin, matching ryleighs.

“thankss. lets go inside.” ryleigh pulled y/n by the hand, pulling her inside the club.

as soon as the door opened loud ass music, neon lights and chattering engulfed y/ns senses. the lights really getting to her, they were just.. so much brighter than inside her bedroom.

ryliegh, on the other hand was enjoying it all. the sweaty bodies she and y/n moving against others as they walked to the bar. everything going on was just what ryleigh needed.

“hello ladies, what can I get ya?” the bartender offered a warm smile towards the two. his voice sending shivers down rylieghs spine. it was a husk, and deep voice, ultimately pulling ryliegh in.

“uh- um.. I- ill take a majito.. um.. y/n? what do you want?” ryleighs shaky and flustered voice turned to y/ns direction.

“I dont want anything. thank you though, ryleigh.” y/n answered. as easy as it would be to consume alcohol and drown out all her thoughts with matt, she knew it wasnt right. she shouldnt because she needs to live the reality of what she did, and also, because drinking alcohol like that is not a good idea, whatsoever.

“alrighty, then. thats all.. mister..?” ryleigh trailed off as she turned back around to face the bar tender, leaning her forearms onto the counter.

• • •

y/n left ryleigh and the bartender. they were just flirting and shit. she didnt want to be the third wheel. wheres the fun in that?

y/n was currently enjoying her night, atleast trying too. as much fun as someone who just ruined their relationship could.

she lightly swayed with the music, her hips moving side to side gently with the music.

she lightly hummed the words of the song, suddenly being so consumed by the beautiful sounds of the singers voice and the background music.

then, everything stopped. her body movements came to a halt. the music suddenly going quiet. her breathing stopping and her heart rate quickening, as her eyes laid on matt.

she immediately bit her lip and took in sharp breaths. her arms twisting together as she stared at him, her eyes darting down his face and body.

the way his silky and shiny brunette hair fell perfectly ontop of his head. the way his green shirt looked so, so good on him. the color perfecting his skin.

god, everything she wanted in a person, yet she couldnt have, but once did.

matt stared at the crowd of bodies infront of him, all moving under bright lights. his eyes trained on each and every individual, his eyes scanning the way each body curved and didnt curve, the features of their faces and their clothing. studying each person for no other reason than being bored.

his eyes were currently laid on one girl, his eyes trained on her hips moving, not even bothering to glance up at her face, nothing.

he could only think about how familiar the movements looked, how perfect she moved her hips.. but more importantly how it looked so familiar like he’d seen it plenty times before.

suddenly, her bodys movements stopped. his eyebrows raised in confusion, wandering why the girl had stopped. he moved his eyes from her hips to her face.

he didnt even have to look for another second to know that is his girl- that was his girl. once was, never (at least, what a part of him wants) again.

he quickly took in how she took in sharp and small breaths, her arms twisting together in the same way she always used to, when she was nervous, he quickly recognized.

fuck.

suddenly his eyes began filling with tears as his lungs slowly deflated with no air. he couldnt find it in himself to take in a breath, without atleast letting out a small sob.

as much as it pained him to look at the girl he only wished was still his, he couldnt bring himself to look away.

he missed the way her arms felt around him, the way her words always got to him, comforted, brought happiness, anything he wanted her words always seemed to do it. the way her beautiful eyes stared into his, the beautiful color of her irises bringing such comfort, warmth and nervousness over him at any given moment with no failure.

as much as what she did with koda absolutley kills him, he still loves her, he still hopes she was in his bed with him everymorning, he still wishes she was the one to always hold him as long as he needed it.

all he wanted was her, and he knew he could have her back, but he knew she didnt deserve him.

y/n stood in her spot, her feet planted to the ground as she took in her shaky breaths, so badly wanting to walk over to matt and talk to him, she just wasnt sure if she was ready or if he didnt want to talk to her. why would he? she basically cheated on him.

her eyes couldnt help but to stay on the boy, until he motioned for her to come to him.

she nodded, before looking away then untwisting her arms and flailing them to her sides, shaking her hands for a moment to get the nerves out and to prepare herself.

she brought one foot infront of the other, walking to matt in a quick motion.

“hi.” matt breathed, seeing y/n standing infront of him. seeing the girl he wanted so badly stand infront of him.

“hi.” she spoke, taking in a breath before quickly saying “alright, listen. I am so fucking sorry for what I did matt. I would absolutely do anything for you. I’d- I would do anything matt. words cannot describe how drained ive been without you, I havent felt the same, I don’t- nevermind. this isnt about me, this is about you and what I did.” she took in another breath, collecting herself before starting again.

“alright. what I did was absolutely unacceptable and absolutely disgusting of me. you were my boyfriend and I should not have done what I did with koda. its absolutely sickening and- and, wrong. no man could ever amount to you, you’re everything and all of everything ive ever wanted. koda is- is not the one to blame here. its me. but I need you to understand that I still love you and if I could I would treat you so so much better than what I did before. i am, truly, so sorry matt, and i do hope we could date again- or atleast be friends.” she finished. exhaling a large breath, feeling a huge amount of weight being lifted off her shoulders.

matts eyes stared down in awe at her. all of her words went straight to his heart. he’d completely forgiven her the moment she opened her mouth and admitted what she did was wrong.

his hands slowly came up to her face, his hand cupping her cheek and pulling her face into his, pressing their lips together in a passionate and sweet kiss. nothing sexual behind it.

y/n crumbled into the kiss and closed her eyes, until matt pulled away and pulled her into him. wrapping his arms around her body as he hugged her. he muttered words into her head, “I forgive you, I forgive you.” he repeated, his hand coming to the back of her head as he pulled her into even more of a warm hug.

2308 words

tags:

@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @mels22lunchbox @ssilentzom @haunted-headset @scofposts @jupitersturniolos @mutualsafe @evieolo

#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #the sturniolo triplets #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matthew #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #matt sturniolo angst #angsty

[ghouljams]

Fic Master List

If you’re on mobile you can search my blog using the usual au tagging structure of (AU)!(Character) and that should yield results. I will attempt to keep this list updated as well as put posts in the correct timeline order, but no promises.

Cowboy!141 Au

Cowboy!Ghost

First Post

MeetCute

On your knees

Save a horse

Morning After

Off Limits

Lowkey Stalker Ghost

Sun in Your Eyes

The Coyote

Kiss me like you miss me

Sandbagging

Pop Tabs

Not Boyfriend Material

Hands pt.1

Hands pt.2

In the Barn

So he’s a comedian

Rummy

A Hard Cry

Almost Caught

Caught

Give that man a baby

Momma’s Boy

4th of July

Taking Care like Lovers Do

Shower Trouble

Bonfire Season

Drunken Confessions

Branded

Cowboy!Price

Meet Cute

Family Fluff

Momma’s home

Cowboy!Soap

Chaos Siblings Meet

Meet Cute

Remember your vows ladies

Bourbon

Confessional

Real Cowboy Shit

Cowboy!Gaz

Loves a Mrs

Meet Cute

First Date Jitters

Cowboy!König

Meet Cute

Sharing a Saddle

One Bug

A Small Trade

Not Very Good at This

Working Overtime

Just Dinner

Piggy Smalls

Chickens

Lock your Doors

Jealous

Bee’s Expertise

Bad at Haggling

Moonshine

Bee Cracks

Broken Dam

Foals

Murder for Hire

OC Snippets

Goose’s Accident

Goose x Reader

Fae AU

Fae!Ghost (World Building #1, What the hell is Tapping, Court Standings, Tethers)

Caught

Released

No escape

Prey

Alt. Reality (escaped)

Alt. Reality (Bad End)

Do the thing

Repaid

Scent Marking

Bait

An Unfortunate Meeting

Apologize

Debts

Both Ways

Names

Stabby Stab

Owned

Playing with Tethers

Animals

Crafts

Gushing Gold

Cabbage Patch

I Guess They Can Keep It

Trio Activities

Fae!König (everyone is so mean to König all the time)

Meet Not So Cute

Banned

Liebling and Love meet

Unbanned

Your Tethers

First Date

First Kiss

Panic

Bracelets

First Time

Bitten

Iron

Aftermath

Twice Bitten

Changeling

More Changelings

Scent Marking

Mocking

Return of the Seedling

Play Stalking

Fae!Price

A potential Darling appears

The Witch

141 Places a Bet

Miss Me

Playing with Tethers

Cigars

A Bet with the Witch

The Fae Trap

Testing the Threshold

Enforcing the Threshold

Overbearing

Tapped

Knit Cap

Protected

Sweetheart

The Mimic

The Mimic (pt2)

The Mimic (pt3)

Scared

Misuse of Magic

Aftercare

Fae!Soap

Meet Cute

An Artist

Another for the Club

Drained Dry

Manic Chaos

Horror Artist

Violinist

Godmother’s Gift

A Softer Touch

A Stalker’s Approach

The Threat

Sandwiched

Fae!Gaz

A Darling a long time gone

A Creditor’s Apothecary

Happy

Fae!Valeria

Her Pet

Where you belong

Short Leash

OC Snippets

Liebling’s Sight

Non-Canon Snippets

Drunk Love

Barely a peck

Liebling Dies

Demon Darlings

Ghost

Personal Hell

Die

Feed Me

A Good Meal

Kind of Cute

Reverse Au

König (pinterest board)

Fetch

Good Girl

Desk Duty

Bitten

Soap

Hush

Sin Summer

Part 1

#cowboy!141 #Fae AU #ghoul speaks #Wow I have written a lot #everything is in chronological order here #at least what I consider chronological order #but it is not in the order it was written #Also I know this isn't pretty I don't care #better legible than pretty

[aheathen-conceivably]

🎶'Cause he held in his arms, and he taught me to be strong 🎶

Although Zelda and Giorgio’s efforts on the farm were growing less dire, there were still days when some of them had to go without meals. Rather than leave Violette there with empty cupboards and exhausted adults on days when she wasn’t at the schoolhouse, Antoine would bring her to Abraham’s ranch with him. 

It comforted him having her so near, seeing her run unencumbered on the sand without any of the worries that plagued his or Zelda’s mind. She seemed happy and comfortable there, but sometimes it terrified him that she was growing older and there was nothing he could do to stop it. It seemed like only months ago that she’d been born, not over seven years before. Soon enough she’d be a young woman, and the thought alone was enough to make him panic. He wanted nothing more than to freeze time at exactly this moment, before anything could hurt her or take her away.

He was happy that she had William, who was such a kind and soft spoken boy that was always happy to play whatever games Violette suggested.  But even his presence reminded Antoine that one day there would be a boy he couldn’t protect his baby girl from, one who would break her heart and make her cry, just the way he had done when he was young. 

He only hoped that he would be there when it happened, to help her pick up the pieces and stay as strong as he knew she was now. Every day he could see his mother and sister not only in the color of her eyes, but in her temperament too. She was strong willed and stubborn, but she allowed herself moments of such fancy and wonder, that he couldn’t help but see Zelda in her too. Each and every one of them triggered a fire in his soul, a pure rush to safeguard them against the rest of the world, that all of them combined in his only child was enough to make his heart burst.

He told himself at least he had her there with him now, that if he could focus on exactly the girl she was now and give her everything she could possibly want, he would show her the type of man and life she deserved; because above anything, he knew that she deserved the world.

He wanted to give her the best sides of himself, the moments in his day that made him feel happiest and uplifted him from the drudgery of the world. So of course, he took her to meet Silver. He had been worried that the horse would respond to Violette the way she did with everyone else, but she seemed to immediately sense that the child was Antoine’s, and thus an extension of the trust she already had for him. With amazing softness, she lowered her head toward Violette, and the child’s usual harsh bravado softened in turn, transforming into a gentle, hushed amazement as she looked into the horse’s eyes. “Poppa, I love her!”

He could feel the pride welling in his chest, threatening to burst into tears, when she looked back at him with excited eyes, “Can we take her home, Poppa? Please? Please!”

“I’m afraid she lives here, Princess. But I’ll get you your very own pony one day. I promise.” Her face transformed even more, brightening with excitement as she continued to pet Silver. The horse seemed so content, that Violette brought her face against her nose. Antoine panicked, bringing his hand forward to stop her, but the horse stayed calm, looking back at Antoine as though to tell him to calm down for once.

With her face still close to Silver’s Violette turned her eyes up at her father, “Can we at least ride her then? Pretty please?”

Antoine had asked himself that very question every day since Abraham had offered. But he didn’t want to tell his baby girl he was afraid, or that the stories of the men she had kicked into the sand were more gruesome than any Western he had ever read. So instead he simply said, “Maybe one day….”

Even a child could hear the wistfulness in his voice, but then Abraham’s curses from outside punctuated the moment. Antoine knew that meant one of the horses was refusing his commands, so he gently moved Violette’s hand away from the horse and opened the stall gate. “You go and play with Will now, alright? We’ll visit her again tomorrow.”

She looked up at him with her big olive eyes, trying to stop him as his boots headed for the door of the barn. She needn’t say a word to besiege him to stay; but he mustered even more strength than needed against the most stubborn of horses to drop down on one knee and kiss her goodbye, promising that he would come and find her at the end of the day just as he always did.

#1932 #sims 4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #ts4 historical #sims 4 decades challenge #the darlingtons #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #sims 4 story #ts4 story #1930s #Antoine Duplanchier #Violette darlington #William Hines #Abraham Hines

[spooky-holtz]

You Don't Need To Keep It Hush

Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Genre: fluff, VERY suggestive, its so close to being smut

Word Count: 2.7k

Prompt: based on the song 'Toothbrush" by DNCE (cringe, I know)

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

There is an undeniable warmth coursing through your body when you finally manage to wake in the morning hours of a spring Saturday. The sun that peeks through the open curtains casts your bedroom in a yellow hue, the glow making the once boring room seem so much more enticing. While this helps the warmth you can feel, there is no doubt in your mind that the main culprit is the body pressed against your back.   

A heavy arm is wrapped around your waist and a soft pair of lips exhale gentle snores onto the smooth expanse of your back. You can’t help but smile as memories of the night before come flooding back. Flashing details of red hair and heavy breaths surge through your mind, the heat that was already coursing through you growing exponentially as you remember the sounds that left the lips currently pressed gently to your spine.   

You can feel the smile that graces your lips before you realize it's even there, a blush creeping across your cheeks as the sight of Melissa’s heaving chest comes straight to the forefront of your mind.   

You had never meant for your relationship with Melissa to end up this way. You had simply started as co-workers, but that’s how it always starts, right? What was the odd weekend catch-up over coffee quickly turned into full-blown meals together and now Melissa is like clockwork, always managing to turn up at your apartment door at 6pm on the dot every Friday after school, a bottle of wine and a bag of take-out under her arm. What started as a way to simply relieve stress after a rather tipsy suggestive conversation during one of those evenings has easily become the best part of your week.  

You’re snapped from your thoughts by the arm around your waist tightening, pulling you closer into the redhead as she lets out a quiet groan.   

“Jesus Christ, couldn’t you have managed to close the curtains properly last night?” she asks, her voice thick with sleep. You let out a laugh, a sharp exhale through your nose as she pushes her face further into your spine to escape the harsh glow of the morning sun.   

“You didn’t even give me chance to, you know that right?” You retort, playfulness laced in your tone.   

Melissa’s manicured nails scratch gently at your bare stomach as she stirs, pondering her next comment. You feel her smile as goosebumps erupt across the flesh of your torso where her hand lays, clearly feeling the effect her touch alone has.   

“Touche,” she says through her sleepy grin, “Can you blame me, though? Those plaid pajama pants you had on last night were extra sexy.”   

You turn your head slightly to look at her over your shoulder, only seeing the mess of red hair that is sprawled across the pillows she insists on keeping in your bed. Before this little arrangement you were quite happy with a single pillow but, of course, Melissa had her way and now the head of your bed is adorned with well over half a dozen pillows for the single night she spends here every week. The sound of soft giggles breaks through your faux-offended silence as she chuckles into the skin of your back before pressing a soft pair of lips between your shoulder blades.  

“I’m just kidding, babe,” she says, her voice still incredibly raspy from the slumber she has just awoken from. Your stomach flips at the little nickname. The giddy feeling you always get whenever Melissa calls you ‘babe’, or ‘hun’, or ‘sweetheart’ never gets old, even if she has been calling you some variation since you met in the teachers’ lounge at Abbott. The words carry an entirely new meaning now than they did a few years ago.  

Even if you aren’t technically in a relationship, you know that her words carry the affection that she shows you in other ways. That same affection is there in the sickly-sweet cup of coffee that waits in front of your seat in the teacher’s lounge every single morning, directly next to the redhead’s Stanley Tucci mug. It’s in the requests to get your classes grouped together during every single Abbott field trip. You see it in the way she’s memorized your take-out order for each restaurant this side of Philly, or the tupperware filled with leftovers that she brings you most days. While you both may not explicitly say that you love each other, you hope that these actions speak so much louder than words possibly could.   

“You’re an asshole, I hope you know that,” you say, breaking the growing tension between you. You feel her lift her head from the pillow, the hand that rests against your stomach pulling to roll you onto your back so you can get a real look at her face.   

Her chin is resting on her hand, propped up against the soft mattress and awaiting your gaze. You can’t help but be taken aback by just how beautiful she is. The sun reflects off her fiery hair, giving it a golden tint that creates a halo around her head. Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she teases you, knowing exactly what to say to invoke a reaction from you, only so she can soothe the ‘hurt’ a few seconds later.  

“Yeah, but I’m your asshole,” she says, batting her eyelashes that still wear the remnants of yesterday’s mascara, the makeup collecting under her eyes that are impossibly bright despite her sleepy state. You scrunch your nose at the statement. She does nothing but giggle, seeing your immediate disgust – she knows what she’s doing.

You can’t help but feel all traces of negativity leave your system when you feel her relax against you, choosing to move her head from her hand to rest her chin on the soft flesh of your chest. She looks up at you through her incredibly thick eyelashes and you feel your entire demeanour soften within seconds. You let the comfortable silence take over for a few moments, the two of you simply taking each other in. Her head rests against a chaotic pattern of red lipstick stains that cover your skin from the night prior. You can still feel each kiss that left each mark burning your skin.  

“Morning, gorgeous,” you say, a hint of a smile playing at your lips. She rolls her eyes at the nickname, but the blush that spreads rapidly across her cheekbones and down the milky expanse of her chest reminds you just how much she loves being called that. She’s propped herself up again, looking down at you with unspoken admiration as your free hand traces patterns up and down her spine. She forgoes words and instead trails her hand up your body to rest against the side of her neck, her nails once again scratching gently at the flesh there.   

She pulls you toward her gently, meeting your lips in the empty space between. She’s careful to use a tenderness that is only reserved for you, gently pressing your lips together while you hum your appreciation for the action into the quiet of the room. She moves languidly against your lips, taking her time to show her affection. You automatically move your hand to cup her jaw, moving her head to deepen the kiss and regain your control. You feel her gasp at the action as she reciprocates hungrily, tracing her tongue against the swollen flesh of your bottom lip. You can’t help but groan quietly against Melissa’s lips, feeling her smirk into the kiss.  

With a newfound satisfaction for your appreciation, Melissa moves away slightly and swings her leg over your waist coming to rest on the other side of your waist. She uses the leverage to straddle your hips completely, trapping you on the bed between her thick, pale thighs. As she pulls back from the kiss to look down at you through curtains of red hair, you can’t help but notice the shift in her energy, the relaxed Melissa you had just seconds ago being replaced by one that has an undeniable hunger in her eyes. It’s the same look you’ve come to recognize every Friday evening, and one that you will never tire of.  

You’re half-hypnotized as you look back at her, a mixture of her incredible beauty and intoxicating actions rendering you useless. She just smirks as you stare at her dumbly, knowing that she has you wrapped around her little finger. You find it incredibly easy to lose yourself in these moments, taking in the wrinkles around her eyes that deepen when she smiles, her bright green eyes never leaving your own.  

She’s looking down at you with a similar admiration, her eyes flitting from your own down to your lips and back. You raise your eyebrow slightly in a silent taunt, inviting her to act as she sees fit.  

She wastes no time in leaning back in, this time bypassing your lips completely and attaching her own to your sharp jawline. Her hands rest on the pillow either side of your head, trapping you in place, as if you had any desire to be free from the situation. Though your eyes are closed with pure bliss, you can feel her mussed red hair tickling against the skin of your chest as she moves one hand to rest against your jawline, maneuvering your head to reach the places she needs to reach.  

You whine as she tilts your head, her lips travelling across your jaw and down the expanse of your neck. She finds the sweet spot underneath your ear and latches to the skin there, the firm grip she has stopping you from moving away from the inevitable mark she will leave there. Covering that on Monday morning is the least of your worries right now, with the only thought coursing through your mind being Melissa’s intoxicating floral scent. You can feel her heavy breathing in your ear as she works, the sound only bringing back welcome memories of the night prior.  

As if she’s reading your thoughts, you feel Melissa’s hips push into yours from where she sits atop you. The feeling of her undeniable arousal on your stomach making your head spin, the hands that rest on her hips guiding her and pushing further into you. You’re given a slight reprieve from the overwhelming sensations as she begins to pull away from your neck, moving her head upwards to look at you properly again.  

“I guess I forgot to say, ‘good morning’”, she says, licking her lips. There is no denying that she knows exactly how to rile you up and you know she’s proud of it with the smug expression she wears. Over the last few months Melissa has learned your body like the back of her own hand, knowing exactly what spots will have you melting at her touch and bending at her mercy. She runs her thumb over your swollen bottom lip from where her hand still sits against your jaw, her strong grip keeping you in place. She looks at you almost expectantly but all you can do is stare back with your mouth slightly agape, wondering exactly what you did to deserve this wake-up call.  

“Jesus Christ Mel, you’re going to have to give me a few minutes before you pull that shit again.” You say, sighing through the sentence.  

You feel her giggle as her face breaks into one of those cheesy grins that you love, her dimples becoming more pronounced as she does so. You don’t think you will ever tire of the bliss and domesticity of your Saturday mornings with Melissa. Even if you aren’t in a ‘real’ relationship, it’s an unspoken rule that she’s not allowed to leave before you can cook her breakfast (or brunch, depending on how long you decide to stay wrapped up in bed together). Sometimes she helps you by chopping fruit or brewing the pot of coffee on the kitchen surface, stealing glances from the other side of your apartment’s small kitchen. 

The comfortable silence is broken by a quiet sigh from the redhead before she begins to move off you.  

“I guess I should probably start getting ready for the day,” she says, swinging her leg back over your hip so her bare feet can reach the cold hardwood floor of your bedroom, “Those papers won’t grade themselves.”  

She picks up your crumpled Blondie shirt from the night before from where it lays discarded on the floor at her feet, pulling it over her head before she shakes her hair out. You can’t help but watch her in awe. She truly makes even the most mundane of tasks seem incredible.  

She moves toward the bathroom as you sit up in bed, wrapping the now warm sheets around your torso to cover the smattering of lipstick stains across your chest that will probably sit there for another few hours. You can hear her as she rummages through her bag, no doubt trying to find the toothbrush she always swears she packed before leaving her own home the evening before. You sit cross-legged as you wait for the rummaging to stop and the sound of running water to start. As if she can hear your thoughts, her head appears in the bathroom doorway, a sheepish smile on her face.  

“You wouldn’t happen to have a spare toothbrush I can borrow, do you?” She asks. Her fingernails drum on the doorframe as you stare back at her, the soft smile on her face relaxing her anxiety radiating from her.  

“Check the cabinet. I bought you one while I was in the grocery store yesterday.” You say, your smile growing wider with the evident relaxation on the redhead’s features. “You can always just leave it here then, ya know? You’ll never have to remember a toothbrush if you already have one at my place.”  

She cracks a grin from where she stands, hand removed from the doorframe and playing with the rings that sit on her fingers. “Thanks, hun,” she says quietly, the sheepish grin back on her features, “I really appreciate it.” 

She disappears again and you can feel yourself slipping away with the easiness of these mornings. There is a domesticity that you’ve found yourself craving since meeting Melissa that you can only find in the Saturday’s you spend together tangled in sheets. You know that there is something more to it but the thought of ruining this near-perfect arrangement stops you from taking the next step with her.  

“Hey, how would you feel about going out for breakfast with me this morning?” You blurt out into the empty room. You can hear Melissa’s actions freeze as the quiet swishing of her new toothbrush against her teeth stills. She pads toward the doorframe again, toothbrush still in hand and foamy toothpaste covering the corner of her mouth. The sight of her makes your heart melt in your chest, knowing that nobody else gets to see her this vulnerable.  

“What, like, out-out?” she asks, her brows furrowed slightly. The question makes your gaze drop to your hands, suddenly incredibly distracted by the way that you’re picking at your cuticles.  

“Yeah, I uh, I thought that maybe we could actually go on a kind of date instead of, you know, just doing this and then not seeing each other until Monday?” You say, more to the bed sheets than to Melissa herself. You’re trying so hard not to be offended by her lack of answer, knowing that even saying anything that could hint toward your real feelings was the worst decision you could have made.  

Before you can decide to get up and remove yourself from the situation you’ve created the bed dips in front of you and a warm hand comes to rest against the side of your face. Melissa is kneeling on the crumpled white sheets that are half-wrapped around you, the grin she’s wearing showing you her newly cleaned teeth. You don’t have a chance to react before her lips are on yours, the redhead’s grin making it impossible for her to kiss you the way she really wants. She holds you delicately, the softness of her actions a sharp departure from the night before.  

It’s a short few seconds before she pulls away and meets her eyes with yours, her chest still heaving from the exertion.  

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

#melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fluff #fluff #lisa ann walter #melissa schemmenti x y/n #self insert #wlw #reader fanfic #reader fic

[eris-snow]

𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥

Tags: bakugou x gn!reader, fluff, I forgot how to tag things

So I haven't done a story in this format for months now, so I figured that I'd do it again in case people were missing it.

Bakugou hates fall.

He resented the cooler weather for purely practical reasons. His Quirk isn't as effective, and the multiple layers he has to wear are a pain in the ass to get off.

But you? Oh, your eyes just light up when you see the leaves change to red. You celebrate the fact that the season of lower temperatures has arrived. You cherish the feeling of bone-chilling wind whipping past your face.

"I don't fuckin' get you." Bakugou iterates as he opens the door one-handed. Your arms are full of groceries, and he's fresh off his shift, so you both are hungry and tired.

"It's cold, daylight peaces out at 4 in the fucking afternoon, and you have to deal with more villains 'cause of the festive seasons. What's there to like?"

"Everything." You deadpan, kissing his cheek. "Now put away the toilet paper or I ain't giving you dinner."

"You wouldn't do that to me. I know you and you wouldn't do that to me. You love me way too much."

"Try me, and see where that gets you," You breeze past him and kick off your shoes, beelining to the kitchen to put the groceries away.

"Fall was the season you confessed to me, dumbass!"

Bakugou pauses by the glass cabinets, toilet rolls in hand.

Oh.

You'd been in a major fight that day, tossed straight into a building with glass etched in your skin. Bakugou almost thought you wouldn't make it. There, holding you in his arms as red colours everything he touched, he almost lost it when you'd closed your eyes.

He thought he lost you.

"You were so frantic," You chuckle, grabbing leftovers from the fridge. "And then when I woke up, and you called the doctor, you told me that you didn't want any regrets."

Bakugou rolls his eyes at the memory as he slams the cupboard shut. "You know, if you got your ass kicked by some D-listed villain now, I'd be laughing my ass off, right?"

"Oh hush, you'd be crying like a little bitch."

Bakugou hears the oil cracking, and he's glad. He's hungry.

With a growling stomach, he strides back into the living room and watches you fire up a meal for the both of you. This year moved so fast. Your new apartment, his break into the Top 10 Hero Rankings...he's...

Happy.

He's actually happy.

"I love fall, because it's when you showed me that I'm not alone." You hum. "That if I was ever on that bed again, I'd have someone there to cry for me. That if I have to walk through this shithole called life, I'd have someone to walk through it with me to make shit suck just a little bit less."

You don't even flinch when you feel him up behind you, hands around your waist as he buries his head into your shoulder. It's so domestic, and it's something that Bakugou never thought he'd have.

Someone to put up with him. Someone to hold like this. Someone cooking for him and someone to share a home with.

"When you put it like that, you make me want to start liking fall too," He mumbles, voice muffled by your clothes.

Bakugou still hates fall, mind you. But if it meant that he gets to cuddle up with you and sip on hot coco, if it meant that he'd see you with that crazy happy grin and hear your stupid laugh, then fall can keep on going, thank you very much.

#mha #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x you #katsuki bakugō #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katuski x reader #fluff #bakugou fluff

[themidnightcrimson]

Birthday—e. olsen

summary: in which it is lizzie's birthday!

warnings: some making out, lots of cuteness, me being desperate to be lizzie olsen's gf, short and sweet

masterlist.

It was one of the only times you had ever been up before Lizzie in the morning.

Lizzie was naturally a light sleeper, so it took every effort and concentration to make absolutely no noise as you creeped out of bed and went into the kitchen to make her one of her favorite breakfasts and a coffee. The sun was barely creeping through the windows as you silently stood over the stove, enjoying the smell of the food cooking and her coffee brewing.

You didn’t even hear her feet scuffling into the kitchen until you heard a hoarse, sleepy voice. “Baby?”

Whipping around in shock, you saw Lizzie standing there in her pajamas, rubbing her eyes, her hair all messed up from sleep. She looked almost like a confused child, and while it was so dearly cute, she was not supposed to be up yet. “No!” you exclaimed, dropping your spatula on the counter and rushing over to her. “You’re still asleep!”

“Huh?” Lizzie said in confusion as you put your hands on her waist and gently ushered her back to the bedroom.

“You’re sleepwalking, you’re still asleep,” you whispered as you guided her to the bed. She plopped down and squinted at you in sleepy confusion as you softly pushed her back to lay down, grabbing the blankets and tucking her back in.

“What are you talking about?” she murmured, your behavior causing her to awaken more as a smile curled on her face in realization.

“Hush, hush, baby,” you whispered, taking her sleep eye mask and messily putting it back over her eyes. With the mask on crooked and the blankets tucked up to her chin, Lizzie started to giggle when you kissed her forehead and told her to go back to sleep. She pulled the mask up to peek at you, but you gently pushed it back down and patted her cheek before scampering away back to the kitchen to make sure her breakfast wasn’t burning.

Although Lizzie was now restless, she laid under the blankets and pretended to be asleep for the next ten minutes before you finally came back in, holding a bamboo bed tray with a plate of breakfast and a cup of coffee sitting atop it.

“Good morning, baby,” you spoke, and Lizzie stretched her arms out from under the blankets, pretending to yawn as she took her mask off as if she was just now waking up. “Happy birthday!” you exclaimed as you came closer to the bed, carefully holding the tray so as to not spill anything.

Sitting up, Lizzie gasped in feigned surprise as you carefully sat the tray down on the bed in front of her, looking up at you with a grin. “Baby, thank you so much. You’re so so sweet.” She reached her hands up for a kiss, and you leaned down, giving her a chaste kiss before sitting down on the bed next to her.

“I would have sang you happy birthday, but I didn’t want to ruin your morning with my screeching voice,” you joked.

Wrapping her arm around you and pulling you closer, Lizzie smirked and remarked, “Oh no, please, I wanna hear you sing for me.”

“No!” you exclaimed, and Lizzie started tickling you until you finally gave in, singing a very shrill and shy rendition of happy birthday that made Lizzie laugh until she spilled her coffee.

Lizzie’s birthday was scheduled with a little party at lunch where all your friends came over with food and drink. It was so nice seeing Lizzie so happy, surrounded by the people she loved most on her birthday. You had to partake in singing yet again when everyone gathered around a birthday cake and sang her happy birthday, so many videos going on Instagram from the gathering.

Usually, you would’ve had a party at night, but Lizzie had specifically requested to have a dinner with you at her favorite restaurant called Il Buco. You both dolled up and headed out as the sun started to set, getting immediate seating due to your reservations and the fact that the staff knew Lizzie personally.

After the meal, you both shared a huge slice of chocolate cake with two scoops of vanilla ice cream. The restaurant’s lights were dim, and a few candles lit on the table provided a warm aura around your private table in the corner of the room.

“This is fucking amazing,” Lizzie remarked as took a forkful of the cake and ice cream. “I could eat cake everyday.”

“Everyone knows about your fixation on cake,” you joked as you took a forkful from the other side of the dessert.

Lizzie giggled and took a drink from her wine, leaning back in her chair and looking at you from over the glass. She had put on a black jumpsuit for the occasion and paired it with a smokey eye that, aided with the sensual lighting, made her green eyes dazzle you. She set her wine glass down and licked her lips, eyes fixated on you as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.

“Thank you, darling—for everything today. All my best birthdays are the ones I’ve spent with you.” Her voice was quiet and assured as she spoke, and she reached across the table and took your hand in hers, squeezing it.

Leaning closer to her, you smiled before quietly whispering, “Your birthday’s not over yet, my love.”

When your foot reached under the table and grazed up Lizzie’s calf, her eyes seemed to turn two shades darker as her lips twitched.

Smirking, Lizzie reached for the wine bottle sitting in a bowl of ice and uncorked it, filling your emptied glass up with more wine.

“Trying to get me drunk on your birthday?” you remarked as she put the bottle back and you took the glass and sipped from it.

“Well,” Lizzie spoke, clearing her throat and leaning back in her chair, eyes burning into you. “You do get slutty on wine, but really I just want to ease you up so you’ll tell me what my real present is besides the wrapped box sitting on the kitchen table.”

You had nearly choked on your wine from the first half of her sentence, setting your glass down and wiping your lips as Lizzie looked rather smugly at you from across the table. You recuperated and challenged, “Guess.”

Tilting her head, Lizzie stared at you as she thought for a moment. “Give me a hint.”

Now it was your turn to smirk. Of course, Lizzie had sniffed out your extra surprise for her. “It involves lace.”

“Is it skimpy?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s go home.”

You had barely gotten through the door before Lizzie was on you, grabbing you by the waist and yanking you towards her as her lips crashed with yours. You’d both drank too much wine, tasting it on each other’s lips as they devoured each other.

Lizzie hungrily kissed you as she started backing you up towards the bedroom, but you averted her away from it, instead leading her towards the kitchen. She tried to tug you back towards the bedroom, but when you resisted, she instead tucked her hands under your ass and lifted you, throwing you onto the table that sat against the wall in the hallway. You could hear the decorations on the table crash to the floor, but when your back slammed against the wall, you couldn’t sense anything but Lizzie’s hands grabbing at your thighs.

Finally, she let you breathe, moving her lips away from your mouth and instead sloppily kissing and nipping at your neck. You panted, grabbing at her shoulders as she pressed you hard against the wall, your thighs wrapping around her frame.

“Lizzie,” you panted as she started to suck hard on your neck, her hand grabbing your hair and pulling your head to the side so she could bite marks into your neck. Your legs wrapped tighter around her as warmth pulsed through you, but you remembered her original present. “Lizzie, wait.”

As hard as it was, she pulled herself off you, taking a step away but keeping her hands on your waist as she looked at you with glazed eyes, her lips open as she breathed heavily. “Yes?”

“Your present,” you reminded her, ignoring the wet feeling on your neck.

“My present,” she sultrily echoed, leaning back in until you kept her at a distance with your hands on her shoulders.

“Nooo, your actual present,” you chuckled, and she finally understood, smiling a bit and straightening up.

“Yes, my actual present.” She helped you off the table and picked up the things that had fallen from it before you took her hand and led her into the kitchen where a wrapped box was sitting on the counter.

You grabbed it and handed it to her, and she took it with a smile that formed dimples in her cheeks. She held it up to her ear and shook it, looking thoughtful as she tried to guess what it was. “That doesn’t sound like lingerie.”

Rolling your eyes, you poked her side. “Open it, silly.”

Sighing, Lizzie graciously unwrapped the box, turning it around to see that it was a set of several garden tools with every kind of tool she regularly used, along with the ones she had been needing for a while.

Gasping, Lizzie grinned wide and looked at all the tools pictured on the front of the box. “Oh my gosh, babe, this is so great!” she said with genuine excitement.

You smiled upon seeing that she truly was happy with the gift. “I got tired of being worried you would get tetanus from all those rusty clippers you use.”

Chuckling, Lizzie turned the box over and looked at the back. “Baby, thank you so much. This is perfect.” Using one hand to pull you closer, she gave you a lingering kiss on the mouth, still smiling all the time.

When she had pulled away from the kiss, she looked at the box one last time before tossing it rather carelessly onto the counter. “Right, now my next present, please.” Smirking, she grabbed you and picked you up, your legs hooking around her as you shrieked and giggled.

“Hey, those tools were expensive!” you exclaimed as she carried you out of the kitchen and into the bedroom.

#elizabeth olsen #lizzie olsen #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen fluff #wanda maximoff #happy birthday lizzie ily so much im sorry im so delusional over you

[flappingdragon]

can u do how the om brothers would react to a mc that is like. (for lack of better words) EXTREMELY dumb ..... like karen smith level slow💀

Lmao I LOVE this idea. The best part is that I can definitely relate to this lol.

Content Rating: SFW

Content Warning: None, GN!MC

Characters: ✨The Seven Brothers✨

Additional Info: MC is very slow to understand, the brothers are patient, shorter HC’s this time (sorry), we love dumbfounded MC, the brothers love MC

Lucifer

He finds it quite surprising, actually

That the fact that there is such a human who is so oblivious to so many things

He first noticed when you walked into his office and he was on a phone call, but you didn’t see he was and you just continued to talk

He had to tell you to hush

He also told you to be more aware of other people’s situations

But he loves that about you

He even finds it endearing

Mammon

You’re in the same boat as him

You both take so long to understand a joke and you often find yourself looking at each other with confused expressions

It will take you both at least a day or two to understand what something meant or recognize what was happening at a given moment

Sometimes if one of you find something out before the other, one of you will rush to tell the other

It’s a cycle you two repeat endlessly and it’s hilarious

He’s just happy he finally found someone who can relate to him

Leviathan

If you’re slow to figure something out, whether it be a “why does this character to this and that” or a “what do you mean by that”, prepare to have a very long rundown conversation

Levi LOVES to explain everything to you in very large detail

He also loves the fact that you will volunteer to understand everything about a show he gets absorbed in

That means pulling an all nighter to go through every single manga volume or watch every episode of an anime

And if you ever need to know anything, he’s got your back

He fawns over you and the fact that he gets to talk to such a human like you and express his love for things to you without hearing you complain

He’s head over heals for you

Satan

Usually, if you ever find yourself struggling to understand something in a book or something you’re studying, he’ll explain it to you in the most simple way possible

Or if you need a more detailed and longer explanation, he’s happy to give you one

He’s an excellent source if you ever need help with your R.A.D school work

He’s also a walking dictionary

So if you don’t know what a word means, just ask him

He gets an ego boost every time you go to him and not one of his brothers

He loves the trust you put in him

Asmodeus

He usually gets stumped on how to explain things you don’t understand that isn’t of the sexual, joking manner

But he’ll try extra hard just for you

Like if you don’t understand how makeup works, he’ll more so demonstrate than tell you

It’s easier for him

And if you’re more of a visual and hands-on learner, then you’re in luck!

Because he won’t give up until you’ve mastered whatever art you ask for help in, even if it’s a skill he isn’t an expert in

He just loves how he can be in your company for hours and not get tired of you

Beelzebub

It doesn’t matter if you’re well conversed in food culture or not, he will explain everything about a certain food item to you down to the very soil the ingredients were planted in

He would talk for hours just describing the taste of food or furniture

Make sure to get him a snack to munch on while you get him to talk about food or he might just start nibbling on your arm instead

He loves the way he can talk to you about his favourite snacks and meals without making you bored or tired of his nonsense rambling

Belphegor

Ask him where the best napping spots are and he’ll make a five page full analysis on where he thinks the best spots are

He’ll explain why if you ever ask

He will even invite you to his favourite; the attic

Then he’ll continue to explain there

He’ll also act as if it’s the best thing that’s ever happened in his life

I mean, he gets to talk to someone who actually wants to know about his favourite napping places?

Count him IN

He loves the way you will earnestly listen to him and he also loves the fact that you will fall asleep with him when he asks

A/N: I hope I answered your ask correctly! I hope everything made sense bc I didn’t go back and proofread anything. Thanks for reading! Thanks for requesting, anon! 💜

#obey me #obey me nb #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me fandom #obey me mc #obey me mammon #mammon obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me swd #obey me ask #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #obey me fluff #obey me brothers #obey me requests #obey me reader #obey me gender neutral mc #obey me gn!reader #obey me gn!mc #gn reader #gn!mc #thanks for the ask! #i love them all

[blacktacmopsi]

Hesh HeadCanons: General Things Vol.1

Hesh absolutely HATES when people do not put their shopping carts back after going to the store. He's not one to kick up a fuss but this is like the ONE THING he will get on a soap box about. "Look, there's no reward for returning the cart, it's just something you DO because we live in a civil society! I fucking swear..."

This man will talk baby-talk to Riley. He lets him sleep in the bed and has so many little weird and cutesy names for him that he uses when no one is around. "Oh, come here you big stinky/ bran muffin/ big wiggle." "What a good boy my honey bunches of oats!"

Hesh is the kind of guy who uses 3 in 1 shampoo/ conditioner/ body wash. He'll even wash his face with it.

Hesh is a sucker for southern food... especially when it comes to seafood. Like, give this man a fried catfish basket with hush puppies and he'll be delighted. Hell, he'll try to barter with you for hush puppies. "Here, I'll trade you my coleslaw and fries if I can have your hush puppies. That's a good deal man! I'll even throw in my tartar sauce!"

He'll occasionally drink. Not enough to get wasted but enough to get a slight buzz. He tends to be pretty fun when he's a bit tipsy.

Like Keegan, Hesh too keeps where he lives pretty clean and orderly. In fact his apartment smells perpetually like Pine Sol. This is something Elias and his mother instilled in him- a clean home is a happy home. He still lives by this today.

Hesh will unironically watch ESPN8 - The Ocho.

Is something broken? Go to Hesh. He can fix it. If not then he'll figure out how to do it. This guy is weirdly resourceful.

Puts the toilet roll on the spindle in the proper direction. He and Logan got yelled at too many times for not doing this when they were kids that ultimately it became a habit well into his adult life.

He is a boobs & leg man, not an ass man.

Hesh listened to Nu Metal growing up.

This man is also a hairy beast. He does manscape because he hates feeling gritty and gross when the temperature gets too hot.

Hesh was the Walker brother that was forced to mow the lawn. This is why he lives in an apartment now- he doesn't want to deal with lawn work anymore. "If I have to mow the lawn one more fuckin' time...."

He hardly ever gets sick. It's weird. Like, RARELY will you see him with a cold or even hear him sneeze. Those that have heard him or even seen him sneeze almost don't believe their ears and eyes. It's like they saw a living unicorn or something.

Hesh sleeps and just sprawls out. You sharing a bed with him? Good luck, you might as well sleep on the couch or floor.

This is a man who also feels like they can't function unless they have had breakfast. This is literally the most important meal of the day for him. If he doesn't get breakfast, he'll be hangry for a while.

#BlackTacMopsi Writes Garbage #call of duty #call of duty ghosts #cod ghosts #cod hesh #hesh walker #david hesh walker