#wooden jewelry cases

[salesmake]

#Wooden Jewelry Box #Leather Jewelry Box: #Travel Jewelry Case

[lovecanyon]

Inside Y/N L/N’s Bag | Vogue | Dad!H

MASTERLIST | PATREON

“Hi Vogue I am Y/N L/N and this is what’s in my bag.”

After she introduces herself, Y/N looks down at the bag in her lap. The bag she had used every single day was a personalized Pleasing mesh bag. It was a light pink color and had a blue ribbon tied onto one of the straps.

It was clear that it meant a lot to her.

“What I carry with me everyday is this.” She says grabbing onto her bag. “You can fit anything in here. And the thing about this is, it’s technically Inez’s diaper bag.”

Y/N then grins at the memory of Harry gifting her the tote.

“This specific bag was gifted to me by my husband a while ago, right before he had launched Pleasing. My son actually loves this bag and has one of his own but smaller. He doesn't go anywhere without it.” Y/N shares.

Setting her carrier onto the wooden coffee table in front of her, the Styles woman reaches into her bag and pulls out a bag of candy. Beau's favorite type.

Y/N remembers the night when Harry had got their son addicted to the chocolate minstrels.

“My son is obsessed with these and when I saw them I had to get them for him.” She laughs. “I spoil my kids way too much.”

The next thing Y/N pulled out was her phone. Just a plain iPhone 14 with a case that she had stolen from Harry or borrowed it, so she said. Once she taps on the screen her face lights up.

Her lock screen was a photo of a newborn Inez sleeping on Harry’s chest with Beau right beside them.

She almost shed a tear.

“This is my phone, nothing special until you look at the lock screen.” Y/N grins. She loved her family so deeply.

After placing her phone onto the table, she slides her hand into her carrier pulling out a blue bandanna. It previously belonged to Harry until Inez came around and slid the bandanna off of her father’s head.

It was truly her favorite thing in the world. You could say it was sort of like a safety blanket for her.

“Harry’s bandanna or should I say Inez’s bandanna. That girl loves this thing so much.”

-

A small bag of diapers, bibs, toy trucks, hair clips that she had stole back from Harry, kids sunscreen, Love on Tour’s backstage/V.I.P passes, bandaids, Harry’s headphones, her family’s passports and a camera

“Since we’re currently on tour and always traveling I always have to carry my children’s essentials.” Y/N explains looking at all the items laid out in front of her. “You can never be unprepared.”

Just five years ago her bag was filled with very different items than now. She was now a mother and had a family with a man she’s always wanted to grow old with.

Two kids later and she’s become a changed woman, a better one. She’s always valued the life she had, especially right now. Y/N couldn't have been more happy.

“Another toy!” Y/N laughs, pulling out another toy from her bag. “A mini statue of our dog Kendall who was actually named after Kendall Roy from Succession since Harry is obsessed with that show.” She holds out a miniature dog in her palm.

Following the toy, she slides out a pair of rings that clearly belonged to Harry Styles since they were his initials.

Y/N leans forward and slips the rings into her back pocket. She remembers the last time Harry had lost jewelry. It was at Coachella and he went insane looking for them.

“We are not losing any more rings.”

Comments:

harryfan2 WHEN WAS THEIR WEDDING OMFG?????

harryfan10 best mother in the world truly

harryfan4 harry’s love for succession has me rolling 😭😭

harryfan8 this. is. what. we. needed.

harryfan13 THE LOCK SCREEN

harryfan7 i cannot stress how much i love this video

harryfan5 the literal girl version of harry

harryfan9 harry is finally y/n’s husband 🧎‍♂️

harryfan11 i’m literally crying

-

tag list: @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @peterparkerbae @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @drphilssoulmate @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @eiffelmezarry @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @agustdpeach @hannahnikohl @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @youusunshineyoutemptress @cherryfragrancx @milkiane @golden-hoax @sunshinemendes8 @your--sweetest--downfall @melllinaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cashtons-wife @stellarossii @scenesofobx @manifestrry @lomlolivia

#harry styles x reader #dad!harry #harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #boyfriend!harry #husband!harry #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fake ig #harry styles fan fic #dilf!harry #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine

[rosehxnt]

the stars in your eyes

characters: deuce spade, leona kingscholar, jade leech, jamil viper, silver summary: noticing the small details that make your boyfriend him warnings: mention of leona's scar, swordfighting, otherwise just fluff

Deuce Spade  He'd been nervously shifting in his seat for the better part of ten minutes, every now and then glancing at you just to see you staring at him.  "Do I have something on my face?" He finally asked.  "Yeah, handsomeness."  His face became flushed. "Thank you...but it's like you're staring right into my soul," Deuce nervously giggled.  "It's like I'm staring into the endless ocean." You held your gaze. "But it's even better because it's you and you're right here with me."  He tried to stare back at you for a few seconds, but failed, quickly turning away and finding something to distract himself with. You let out a light laugh as the eye contact ended, enamored by his reaction.

Leona Kingscholar  His chest rose and fell as you observed him. He was once again fast asleep in the botanical gardens, sun cascading across his face.  Absentmindedly, you reached out to slowly trace the scar going over his left eye.  "Herbivore." You had woken him up and he was now staring up at you, his cat-like pupils thinning to slits to accommodate for the midday sun. "What do you think you're doing?"  "I think..." You gaze into Leona's eyes, fingertips sitting still on his cheekbone. "I think I want you to look at me like that forever."  You swore you saw his pupils grow in size, but he'd deny it if you said anything. A small smile appeared on your face.  "I think I want to nap," he replied and, much to your chagrin, closed his eyes to resume his slumber. In your mind, you replayed the image of him looking at you, those emeralds he held easily rivaling even the most expensive jewelry one could buy.

Jade Leech  It was always a joy to see Jade practice his passion. That passion being taking care of his endless mushroom collection. The happiness showing in his eyes was always worth it to you, and you made sure to take in every bit of it.  Except he always noticed your staring. Although, this time he decided to say something about it.  "Why do you look at me with such intensity, my dear?" His casually delivered question threw you off, causing you to find sudden interest in the floor.  "Oh, um, I like it when you're happy, it makes me happy."  "I'm glad you're happy, then," he commented and went back to work making sure each individual terrarium was in ideal condition.  "Your eyes are also super pretty," you found yourself saying. "I love how one is like the sun and the other is like the earth. It's almost like you're my entire world."  It was his turn to deliver a shocked expression, not expecting you to turn the situation into an opportunity to flirt with him.

Jamil Viper  You were content to sit on the sidelines while Jamil prepared that evening's meal. He insisted you not do any of the work, and you questioned if he was looking out for you or the state of the meal. His answer was ambiguous.  So here you were, watching as he moved about the kitchen. His long hair swept over one shoulder, his hands working to expertly chop up the various vegetables, and his eyes flitting to each ingredient as he threw them in the large pot that was to feed the entire Scarabia dorm.  Those eyes, the ones that reminded you of the charcoal used to light fires, similar to the fire you felt for Jamil himself. He'd lit one in your heart through the way he'd always help you when you were getting behind in class or were feeling under the weather. His observant eyes that kept watch for you and worked hard to keep you out of trouble were just one of his many charms.

Silver  You'd been invited to watch Silver and Sebek spar, which you'd looked forward to for days. Both them and Lilia had worked to make sure you'd be safe just in case any blades went flying. This ended up with you sitting on a wooden bench behind a metal fence. Lilia was in the corner watching the two boys the entire time just in case, since they tended to get competitive.  Though your sight was slightly limited, it didn't stop you from watching Silver's expression as he expertly defended Sebek's attacks and launched some of his own. He was focused on the battle and his eyes, which reminded you of the translucent lavender tinted marbles you'd play with as a kid, tracked every movement and flash of metal.  It was hard to remind yourself he was still just a human in that moment. A human who had trained among fae to become a fierce enough soldier to protect their crown prince. A human who would look at you so kindly after the sparring had ended, offering his hand to help you up from where you sat, awestruck.

a/n: i was just thinking about a specific someone's eyes and thought i'd do this m.list & rules

© rosehxnt

#i’m very proud of this one #ediewrite #twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #twst fluff #twisted wonderland fluff #deuce spade #deuce spade fluff #deuce spade x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar fluff #leona kingsholar x reader #jade leech #jade leech fluff #jade leech x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper fluff #jamil viper x reader #silver #twst silver #silver vanrouge #silver x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #deuce spade imagines #leona kingscholar imagines #jade leech imagines #jamil viper imagines #silver imagines

[albontology]

it goes without explanation with zhou's new helmet is dope as hell. i will provide explanation anyways.

(above, zhou's helmet design as posted to the KV design twitter)

the central design on zhou's helmet is almost certainly inspired by the traditional craft of mother-of-pearl inlay in lacquerware, a practice which originated in China over 6 thousand years ago, and which has been developed and practiced in discrete forms historically in Korea and Japan alike. (continued under the cut!)

(on the left, a korean (goryeo dynasty) lacquerware stationery box; on the right, a chinese (song dynasty) lacquerware lidded bowl for cosmetics or incense. both photos via the met museum website)

traditionally, lacquerware is created through the refinement of a toxic plant sap into a naturally deep and glossy adhesive coat that is built up and polished often on top of wooden furniture and decorative items, such as chests and jewelry boxes. in the above examples, you can see two types of lacquerware practice.

on the left is mother-of-pearl inlay, which is created through the careful grinding down of tortoise or abalone shell into thin iridescent sheets which are then carefully cut into shape and imbedded into the coats of dark lacquer, being repeatedly covered and then polished down in the lacquer until the shiny shell surface is level with its surroundings. it's both visually stunning and incredibly labor-intensive: for a case like this, there would have been separate artisans making the wooden base box, making the metalware (hinges and clasps) for the box, applying the base layers of lacquer, and then completing the inlay itself.

on the right is (what i understand to be) a predominantly chinese lacquer practice, which is carving into the layers of lacquer to form images in relief. while this practice is not replicated on zhou's helmet, the image selected does display the pattern of the peony flower, which i believe to be the flower depicted in the inlay! the striations of the central petals seem to match zhou's. of course, this is speculative and only based off an amateur's eye, especially considering the motif of scrolling foliage is fairly ubiquitous and somewhat generic in east asian decorative art.

(on the left, zhou's 2024 helmet (detail). on the right, a detail image of a korean chest decorated with mother-of-pearl. zhou's helmet via twitter, right image via the met museum website)

the 'metallic' or 'holographic' effect a lot of people have recognized is a natural property of polished mother-of-pearl: look at the iridescence of the design! while it has been exaggerated to some extent on zhou's helmet (for good effect, i must say), you can clearly see the inspiration when compared side-by-side with a more predominantly mother-of-pearl composition: the variegation between blues, greens, and warmer peachy-reds is mesmerizing.

i really want to drive home how brilliant of a design this is and give the due appreciation to KV Design, who made this helmet for zhou. clearly a lot of thought and creativity went into it, and I can't wait to see it in action. >:D

#zhou guanyu #zg24 #f1

[goldnhourwrites]

Not enough people talked about these so I'm gonna do it myself because oh my god (commentary and headcanons below, it's just long)

Sett has a little travel-sized sewing kit in his bag... it's so tidy... sett stitching things back together when his bandmates rip them...

Sett just casually carries around like 20+ pounds of dumbbells. Mans is literally always working out. The grind never stops.

"yo Ezreal can you grab my bag for me?" "Yeah sure--what the FUCK do you have in here? This thing weighs a hundred pounds."

His little exercise headband... and is that a hair tie behind it? Sett with his hair tied back??

Sett's energy bar collection. Sett's the type of person to pack an entire backpack full of snacks for a road trip.

Ezreal has a plushie OF HIMSELF on his bag.

this guy practically collects aesthetic glasses. 3 pairs in the bag plus the circle ones he had in PARANOIA.

Sharpie (for signing autographs???) His signature on the polaroids of himself???

The photo under the lip balm looks like it might be Ezreal and Aphelios. Ezreal's the type of person to make sure he has photos with all of his friends. Ezreal hanging up his favorite polaroids in his room.

can we talk about the all-white fit in the very bottom photo omg

Aphelios has back-up headphones for his headphones.

WHO SENT THE SNACKS. WAS IT ALUNE. WAS IT SOMEONE ELSE.

The writing on the note looks like Korean but unfortunately I don't know any Korean :(

his sticky noted book... is it a journal? is it full of lyrics? who put the little smiley face sticker on the front!! does he write in it!!

I love the idea of Aphelios just pulling out a little keyboard whenever he wants to write down a tune. How well can he play the piano? Only enough to write music, or does he have songs memorized? Does he ever play for anyone?

K'SANTE'S DRAWING TABLET

he's not just in charge of putting together their fashion, he designs it himself. i'm going to scream

I am in love with those glasses. I need art of k'sante in those glasses ASAP. i will do it myself if i have to.

What is his book!! What does the W stand for!!

The way the button on his gloves matches the one on his jacket in his LoL splash art. This tiny detail is driving me insane.

Also, the cologne? The top is the same as his necklace? Does he have a specific personal cologne? So elegant...

Kayn's Pentakill guitar pick. Let me see him play the guitar I beg

The crumpled up receipts. This man goes Shopping (also see: cash, various coins). And he just has a bunch of random shit in his bag because he never bothers cleaning it out.

the open leaking bottle of hair dye. please. do you NEED that

The random jewelry... I love the idea of him either a) taking it off, shoving it in his bag, and forgetting where he put it or b) bringing backup drip with him everywhere in case he needs more

While Sett, Aphelios, and Yone all opted for headphones, Kayn's gone with good old-fashioned corded earbuds. Does he not like headphones? Is it because they mess up his hair?

Big ass box of matches and For Why? Does he smoke? Is he too cool to carry around a lighter? Does he just like setting shit on fire?

Yone keeps a little emergency travel kit. Band mom energy. He's got band-aids and a toothbrush and toothpaste At The Ready.

Bottle of lotion? Yone with a skincare routine? Yone who stays moisturized? Everybody in Heartsteel asking Yone for lotion?

Earplugs (for sleeping on long bus rides, maybe?) I want to see Yone going "I'm sick of this shit" and tuning the fuck out.

Yone is the only one with a real headphone case. Aphelios has his around his neck 24/7, but his wireless earbuds have a case. Sett's just shoving his in there with twenty pounds of dumbbells and hoping for the best.

Yone's got so many little gadgets and I don't even know what they all are. He has his laptop and (probably) his phone, plus a smartwatch, and maybe a portable charger? He's that prepared.

I can't tell what the object beside his smartwatch is (looks wooden?) If anyone knows, let me know? I'm so curious

This man's got even more stuff inside his bag. Yone doesn't leave the house without like fifteen things in case of an emergency.

good news everyone. i'm still losing my mind over them

#heartsteel #heartsteel sett #heartsteel ezreal #heartsteel aphelios #heartsteel k'sante #heartsteel kayn #heartsteel yone

[stevethehairington]

once october hits and the weather turns cold, steve, eddie, robin, and nancy deicde to go to a pumpkin patch.

it's robin's idea, as she reads about the opening of one nearby and gets excited about going and indulging in all things fall.

steve pulls out his favorite chunky knit sweater (eddie touches it once when he first sees steve, then cant stop petting it throughout the rest of their trip because "it's so soft, man"). nancy's got her giant knit scarf looped around her neck at least three times (by the end of the night she'll be sharing it with robin). and eddie and robin unintentionally match in their flannels — eddie's topped with his leather jacket, robin's with her jean jacket.

they go with the intention of hunting for the perfect pumpkins to carve; but when they get to the pumpkin patch they see that it's so much more than just a pumpkin patch. there are stands with gourds, and apples, and squashes, and all kinds of fall fruits and veggies. there are craft stalls set up too, people selling homemade jewelry or candles or tie-dyed t-shirts or wooden carvings and the like.

there's a wooden cabin with a full baking kitchen and display cases of all sorts of baked goods: turnovers of all sorts, apple pies, pecan pies, berry pies, caramel apples, apple donuts, fudge. they sell apple cider, hot and cold, at the counter too.

at the entrance to the pumpkin patch area there are some wooden photo stand-ins, one of two scarecrows standing next to each other, one of three pumpkins in a wooden wheelbarrow, and one of a sunflower. nancy brought her polaroid, so they all take turns sticking their faces into the cutouts. she snaps one photo of steve and robin in the scarecrows, another of steve, robin, and eddie in the pumpkins, one of robin in the sunflower. steve takes the polaroid from her and insists nancy and eddie take a turn in the scarecrows, so they do. they robin catches nancy by surprise, curling her arms around her from behind, tucking her chin over nancy's shoulders, and steve snaps a photo of that too.

in the pumpkin patch itself, they search for the perfect pumpkin. eddie had a very specific criteria for his — it's got to be a big one with a good face to carve into; it's got to make a good sound when he knocks on it; it's got to be orange enough; it can't be rotten; there needs to be a stem. steve picks up pumpkin after pumpkin, holding each out to eddie with a raised eyebrow. each one gets a full inspection, but eddie always finds something wrong with them. "it's too skinny, there's not enough room to carve anything good." "steve, the whole underside is rotted, did you even look at it!" "mm, no, it doesn't have a stem." it's a little ridiculous, steve thinks, but he can't say he isn't having fun with it. sometimes he picks one that very obviously doesn't fit eddie's criteria on purpose — he likes the look eddie gives him each time, something fondly, affectionately annoyed. and if that also gets eddie to stick more closely to steve's side since steve can't seem to figure it out, that's just a bonus.

after they find their pumpkins, they hit the bakery. nancy gets a blackberry turnover, robin orders a dozen apple donuts ("i need some to take home, steve! these things are the best!"), eddie gets a caramel apple, and steve orders a slice of apple pie. he also gets some assorted fudge to bring back for the kids. they all get cups of hot apple cider too.

robin and nancy share their pastries, sitting close and swapping bites. eddie nearly gets his hair stuck in the caramel, and steve just laughs. eddie laughs back at him when steve spoons up a particularly big chunk of apple filling and it slips off the end of the spoon and right into his lap. he says it's karma. then holds up his apple, grinning stupidly, and says "or should i say... caramel." it's a terrible joke, but it makes steve laugh anyways as he tries to clean himself off.

robin asks nancy if she wants to go on the hay ride and nancy says yes but also jokes that robin is stealing steve's move because he used to always take his dates on the hay ride as an excuse to cuddle up to them. this, of course, makes steve flush bright red because not five minutes earlier he'd asked eddie if he wanted go on the hay ride. eddie had said yes, and steve did have every intention of using said hay ride as an excuse to cuddle up to him, thanks very much nancy.

they sit close on the hay bales in the back of the wagon, thighs pressed together, arms brushing. steve rests his arm against the side of the wagon behind eddie, feels eddie shift closer, sees the smile pulling at his mouth out of the corner of his eyes.

one of the tires ends up popping on the tractor pulling the wagon, so everyone unloads and starts the trek back through the apple trees on foot. robin loops her arm through nancy's and off they go, following the crowd. steve elects to hang back a little, waiting for the crowd to disperse, leaving him and eddie to their lonesome.

eddie jokes that steve orchestrated the whole thing to get him alone.

steve laughs, takes a step closer to eddie. backs him up against one of the apple trees. steve doesn't know where the sudden confidence is coming from, but he's grateful for it as he takes eddie's jaw into his hand, cups his palm to it's curve and draws eddie in, bringing their lips together.

he kisses him — the way he's wanted to all day. the way he's wanted to for months now.

eddie tastes like tangy apples and sweet caramel. his mouth is warm and responsive, his tongue soft and insistent against steve's.

when they part, eddie laughs, bright and happy, fingers gripping the front of steve's sweater in a bunch.

the two of them make their way back to the pumpkin patch, fingers twisted together at their sides. they spot robin and nancy, sitting on one of the benches together, nancy's scarf looped around both of their necks — just like steve predicted it'd be. when robin and nancy spot them back, robin's eyes go wide and she claps her hands together, pointing out their clasped hands to nancy, who smiles knowingly.

"you two get a little lost back there?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

steve laughs, flushes pink. he glances over at eddie, leans into his side more, swings their hands a little. "something like that," he answers.

"you had the right idea, roping us into coming here, buckley," eddie chimes in.

"glad to be of service," robin salutes, grinning salaciously.

and yeah, it was the right idea, steve thinks.

they just might have to make this a tradition.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #ronance... if you squint #fruity four #mack writes #macks ficlets

[toughtinkcosplay]

let's make fearne horns!

a step-by-step tutorial for making foam horns for cosplay

this was originally posted to twitter last year, but since twitter’s decided to ram itself through a brick wall repeatedly for some reason, i’m reposting here.

materials/supplies:

wire (the hardware store kind, not the flimsy jewelry kind. you want it bendable but sturdy enough to hold whatever size horns you’re making.)

craft foam/eva foam (thickness depends on project needs)

triangular foam dowel

tape or paper for patterning

barge cement (or other brand contact cement)

foam clay

plastidip spray

acrylic paints

gloss spray

heat gun

scissors

paint brushes

something to wrap horns around depending on curl needs

headband or something else to attach the horns to for wearing

the process:

1️⃣ pattern horn curl using tape or paper. mine is going to be a long triangle shape along it’s top face.

2️⃣ cut out of craft foam & trim/taper triangular foam dowel to match. cut wire to match this length plus a couple extra inches for attaching to a headband later on.

3️⃣ carve valley into dowel & glue wire into it using barge cement. tape is helpful for holding the wire down while it dries. be sure to follow glue instructions for use which usually requires good airflow/ventilation in the space! for me, that means opening the window, turning on a fan, and wearing a mask to avoid fumes.

4️⃣ glue foam dowels to craft foam.

5️⃣ spiral horns carefully around a cylinder, heat forming tips where wire can’t reach. the hardest part here is to get both sides even. (i think i used a wooden dowel or a curtain rod for my spirals??)

6️⃣ fill gaps between dowel & craft foam with foam clay, using finger + water to smooth it out. if you want to add any ridges or scars to your horns, do it once this part is dry and before the next step—but i wanted mine to be smooooth.

7️⃣ once dry (give it a couple days just in case), heat seal with a heat gun & spray with plastidip. do multiple coats to get all the angles because spirals are WEIRD!

8️⃣ paint with acrylics.

9️⃣ gloss spray!

🔟 using the bit of wires sticking out, attach to a headband or wig to wear! mine actually poke through my wig and attach to a headband that sits inside the wig which fearne’s ears also attach to.

i hemmed and hawed over how to approach these originally because i know most folks would either 3d print them or do a proper full craft-foam pattern, but i’m crap at cutting craft foam and i hate sculpting digitally and ALSO don’t have a 3d printer. so i did it my way! and it was fun!! plus, the final horns are super lightweight which makes them great for wearing all day! the flexibility of the wire also allows them to have some pose-ability which can be nice for photos to make sure they’re visible.

#cosplay #tutorial #horns #foamsmith #cosplay tutorial #fearne calloway #critical role

[inkdrinkerworld]

rockstar!sirius who’s always wearing rings and earrings and necklaces and looks hot as fuck and him and reader share jewelry!!!!! they swap rings and switch necklaces depending on what looks best or if they just want a little piece of the other person with them that day

this is a dance you and sirius dance every time he’s about to leave for tour.

he takes a case of jewellery- all his rings and chains but he always wants something of yours.

you never mind. how could you?

your boyfriend plies you with kisses; a sticky, wet mess of them from your cheek to your neck, and then he asks as sweetly as he can, “which of your necklaces can i have?”

his grey eyes look a little blue from how clear they are today- you know how badly you’re gonna miss him already.

“bring my jewellery box?” sirius is off you and holding the precious wooden box to his chest before setting it on your bed.

you rifle through some of your rings and pendants and smile when you stop upon one of your favourites.

it’s a dragonfly that’s filled in with moonstone- a pendant you’ve had forever and always love wearing.

“you can have this one.” you thread it through a chain and fit it around sirius’ neck.

his lips meet yours; “thanks puppy,” he kisses you again. “which of mine do you want?”

your fingers fall to the glossy chain he has on beneath the dragonfly, “this one.”

sirius takes it off quickly, “lift your hair,” he kisses you as he puts it on just to flaunt some degree of finesse. “there y’go; look stunning.”

#siriusblack #sirius black #sirius black one shot #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #sirius black drabble #sirius black fluff #sirius black blurb #sirius black x you #sirius black x yn #sirius black x black!reader #sirius black x reader #rockstar!sirius

[optimisticstudentangel]

Centaur/deer Simeon headcanons

Warning: there are NSFW heancanons near the end. 

Simeon is a very active centaur, he doesn’t sleep a lot, instead spends his time picking berries and walking around the forest. You were surprised when you found out that he has a cozy wooden house where he spends his nights.

He likes to plant flowers near the lawn of his house. He is generally a lover of gardening, in addition to caring for flower beds, he also grows vegetables. He cooks well, but does not eat meals that contain meat.

Initially, there was no furniture in his house for you to sit down, but after meeting you, he made a chair and even a bed for you with his own hands. He does not lie on the bed, prefers to sleep on soft grass, under warm sunlight.

Relationship with him:

He is very careful with strangers, and in most cases he avoids people, believing that they are dangerous. 

It takes a lot of time to get close to him, but after you manage to get his trust, you can consider yourself lucky. He is very courteous and understanding, as you get to know him better, you begin to notice that he becomes more open in your company. He is not afraid to seem vulnerable in front of you, he is happy to pay a lot of attention to you.

He likes to make nice gestures to you, like picking a bouquet of flowers for you, making sweets from those fruits that he grows himself. Simeon loves to spend time with you lying on the glades. He likes it when you gently touch his horns, and the curiosity with which you study his body.

He likes to ride you on himself. At first you resisted a lot, worrying that you would cause him inconvenience, but he insisted that you sit on him. He can take you for a ride with the breeze. He likes the way your hair is blowing in the wind during your little races.

On your first anniversary, you gave jewelry for his horns. Simeon was very pleased with your nice gesture. He asked you to help with putting on your gift. "MC, my dear, it's so beautiful, thank you, I will carefully carry your gift" - he kissed you on the cheek. Simeon never takes off your jewelry, even if it sometimes interferes with him.

During the breeding seasons, he gets a little aggressive, but not towards you. Simeon openly shows signs of jealousy (even if he has no competition) and does not give you the opportunity to move away from him too far. He is very tactile, asks for long hugs, sniffs you. By such actions, he shows that you are his mate, and that you belong to each other. He also leaves hickeys in prominent places so that others can admire his signs of love for you.

He likes to fall asleep with you in his arms. He is comforted by your quiet sighs, he likes to press his head against your heart.

NSFW headcanons:

Simeon loves cockwarming. He believes that this is the most special kind of intimacy. He likes how the two of you become one, this action is perceived by him as something sacred.

He has an average attraction to sexual needs. Likes to make love with you two or three times a week. He sees sex as an opportunity to show his adoration from the physical side, nothing more. If you have an increased sexuality, then he will have sex with you more often. He will be rude if you wish it, he is usually very gentle with you. Usually. Until the breeding season comes. As mentioned earlier, during the breeding season, Simeon changes. He is very persistent, ready to fuck you all day long. It becomes difficult for him to control his animal instincts. He seems to become a predator, which is very contradictory to his character and behavior. Because of the long incessant sex, you faint, and wake up to the sight of Simeon still moving in you. "Are you awake? Mgh… Ah~ you're so small, just a little more and I'll tear your hole and you"

After the end of the season, he asks for forgiveness for a long time and takes care of your tired body. He kisses every scratch, bite, mark, hickey that remains from his stormy libido. "MS, come on, I'll massage your sides to make you feel a little better?". You can't hold a grudge against him for long, and end up forgiving him. 

#obey me #obey me simeon #simeon x reader #obey me fanfic #obey me scenarios #om! simeon #simeon x mc #simeon smut #obey me smut #obey me simeon smut

[echo-goes-mmm]

Ambrose and Elliot #25

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: torture, murder

He sent Elliot to sleep in his bedroom. The poor thing was exhausted, and he needed a nap somewhere safe. 

After a bit of prodding, Elliot had told him he couldn’t remember anything prior to ‘his old master’ and Horneswood might have some information.

Ambrose couldn’t imagine just… forgetting everything. They had to have done something to his mind. He wracked his brain as he prepped, but he couldn’t think of any natural substance that could erase twenty-odd years of memories.

Surely Elliot had a life before his captors. There was no way he would have run if there wasn’t something in his mind that knew the abuse wasn’t normal. Even if it was subconscious. 

They’d find out soon enough. Elliot wanted to ask the bastard questions, and Ambrose would make sure he got truthful answers. He fished around in his jewelry box for the proper amulet.

He didn’t like using magic much; it felt like cheating. And after so many decades of shortcuts, it was nice to slow down and do things the long way.

This was not the time to do things the long way. Thank goodness he had kept all the magic trinkets and jewelry his husband had given him. 

The amulet was buried under some rings, and it took him a moment to untangle the gold chain from the gemstones. It was an inconspicuous thing, a simple teardrop ruby framed in gold, but the unnatural weight gave it away.

The cold metal immediately warmed in his palm; it recognized him. He clasped the chain around his neck, slipping it under his shirt. 

He couldn't remember what the enchantment was called, but it would let him know when someone was lying or not. A useful thing in an interrogation.

The rest of the preparations were easy. Ambrose rolled up his rugs and put them in the closet. He grabbed some rags and put them down before placing a worn chair in the middle of the room. He took old sheets and draped them over the furniture in case there was any blood spray.

He kept Elliot close by after his nap, occupying him with chores they could do side-by-side.

Until nightfall came.

He sent Elliot up to his room, and chatted nonchalantly with Mr. Horneswood- first name Sebastian (ew). He gently maneuvered the conversation, and found out that Horneswood was far from home, headed back after visiting relatives. 

His disappearance wouldn’t be noticed for months, and like most missing persons, would be assumed dead by exposure or bandits.

Good.

He went ���to bed’ after filing the information away in his mind.

Elliot had left the door unlocked for him, as planned, and he slipped inside.

“It’s just me,” he whispered to Elliot in the dark. He took his place by the door, hidden in the shadows. He unsheathed Janus’s dagger and waited.

It wasn’t long before he heard Sebastian whistling, the cocky shitbag.

The handle turned, and Ambrose kept still.

Horneswood entered the room, and in the dim light he saw him grin. Just a step further-

Ambrose lunged, clapping his hand over Sebastian’s mouth, the dagger to his neck.

“We need to have a chat.”

___________________

Ambrose pulled off his jacket and tossed it aside. He didn’t want any blood on it.

“I- What are you going to do to me?” whimpered Sebastian. He was tied down on the chair, rope securing his wrists to the armrests and his ankles to the wooden legs. Elliot sat on the sheet-covered couch, watching.

“I’m going to kill you, of course.” Ambrose traced the edge of his dagger. 

“Please- please don’t- I haven’t done any-”

“Bullshit you haven’t,” he snarled. He swung the blade forward, stopping a scant half inch before his throat.

“Elliot has told me enough to know you deserve to die. How that happens depends on you.”

“Wha-”

“You’re going to answer Elliot’s questions. If you tell him the truth, I’ll be nice and make it quick,” he lied. 

“And if you don’t… well. I’m sure you can guess.”

Sebastian’s eyes went wide, and he glanced at Elliot. Ambrose savored his ashen face, the shake in his hands, the quiver of his lip.

How Poetic.

“Look at me,” he commanded. Horneswood’s eyes snapped to his, and they were filled with terror.

“Go ahead, Ellie.”

Elliot looked unsure, but Ambrose gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s alright, love, he can’t hurt you.”

“You- you said Elliot was my new name. What was it before?” He asked quietly. 

“I don’t- what do you mean?” Horneswood looked between them, tears in his eyes.

“Did- I mean. I had a name, didn’t I? Like real people.” Elliot wrung his hands, staring at the floor.

“Answer the question.” He pressed the blade to one of Sebastian’s thumbs, threatening it.

“I don’t remember- I’m sorry!” sobbed Sebastian. “Don’t!”

The amulet tingled and the air tasted sweet. It was the truth- he didn’t know.

“See?” teased Ambrose. “Not so hard.” He let up on the finger.

“How long was I with my old master?” asked Elliot, bolder than before.

“I- um- four years.”

Ambrose inhaled, tasting the air. Bitter. A lie. Too bad.

He dug the tip of the blade into Sebastian's forearm. The man screamed, and Ambrose twisted the dagger. He waited a moment.

“Try again.”

“Six!” he cried. “Please, stop!” Ambrose flicked the pommel, and Hornesood squealed like a stuck pig.

Six years. Elliot couldn’t have been more than sixteen, maybe eighteen. Sebastian was only covering his ass because sixteen was barely legal. Not that it mattered anymore; there were worse crimes afoot.

But even six years of torture surely couldn’t reduce his memory to ash.

No one forgot their own name in six years without help.

He looked over to Elliot, and clearly he hadn’t expected that. 

“Is he lying?” he whispered, and Ambrose shook his head. Elliot looked away.

“I’m sorry,” whimpered Horneswood.

“Shut up,” snapped Ambrose. He grabbed Sebastian’s hair, yanking his head backwards. “What did you do to make him forget? What did you do?”

“Nothing!” protested Sebastian. Lie.

“You did more than nothing.” He pried a finger loose from Horneswood’s clenched fist, and severed it from his hand in one clean cut. 

Sebastian screamed again, high and piercing.

“What did you do?”

Horneswood panted. “It wasn’t me! A mage- owed Ed a favor- some spell- so he’d obey-” he gasped, “Just stop! Please!”

Ambrose glanced at Elliot, who had tears running down his face.

Memory erasure. Elliot’s whole identity, his past, gone in a flash. Irreversible. 

Fuck.

“I- I really was a person-” Elliot looked down at his hands. He covered his face, weeping.

Ambrose put down the knife. 

“Ellie,” he wrapped his arms around him, “you’re still a person.” 

Elliot tucked his head under his chin, pressing his face into his chest, clutching his shirt.

“I’m not,” he sobbed, “Not anymore.” Tears soaked his shirt, but he paid them no heed. “I just th-thought I was a-always this way. Meant to be- to serve. I- I didn’t know- he lied to me-”

Ambrose had already decided earlier that Horneswood wasn’t going to die easily, but now the idea of prolonging even further-

He couldn’t pass that up.

He rubbed Elliot’s back. “Do you want to ask him anything more, sweetheart?” Elliot shook his head. “Alright.”

“Can I sleep in your room?”

“Of course, love.” Ambrose looked over to see Sebastian. “But there might be some noise.” Horneswood’s head snapped up, and Ambrose grinned at him.

“I don’t mind, sir.”

Ambrose kissed Ellie’s forehead. “I’ll be there in a couple hours.”

Ambrose watched him go, the door clicking behind him.

“So,” he turned to Horneswood, “where do you want to start?”

___________________

“How do you feel about castration?”

“Fu’ you,” moaned Horneswood. It had become difficult for him to talk since Ambrose had pulled out a few of his teeth.

Blood dripped from the wounds on Sebastian's chest, and Ambrose considered the scars he’d seen on Elliot. He didn’t have a whip, but there were other ways. He grabbed the iron poker from the stand. Might as well finish him off. It was getting late. 

“Unlikely. But I suppose you make a point. Once I cauterize it, you won’t feel the pain anyway.”

He untied Horneswood’s writs and shoved him forward onto the floor. He straddled his back, forcing his hands behind him. Once he was secured and tied, he cut away the ankle bindings.

Sebastian didn’t have the strength to move away, the blood loss weakening him.

Ambrose put the chair aside. He tapped the ground with the poker, right by his head, and Horneswood flinched.

“I’m going to beat you to death,” he announced. “Sound fair?”

“ ‘illing is a th’in.” panted Sebastian. “Your ‘od will ha’e you.”

A spark of anger flared in Ambrose’s chest. How dare he? “You know, I don’t think he’ll mind.” He clutched the poker, his knuckles turning white.

He brought the poker down on his ankles. Horneswood howled, his bones likely shattering.

Good. 

The cracking of bones was sharp and loud, but it was nothing compared to the sounds of Sebastian’s wailing and piercing shrieks.

Ambrose made his way up Hornewood’s body, his feet, shins, thighs, pelvis (that got special attention), until finally his ribs. 

He wheezed when Ambrose struck his lower chest, and he began to cough blood. It splattered on the floor, tiny droplets of scarlet.

Ambrose paused. He’d perforated his lung, a deadly wound, but if he stopped now it would be hours before Horneswood died. Hours of excruciating pain.

He wiped the poker down with a spare rag. He put it back on its stand.

He cleaned his dagger as Sebastian choked and coughed.

He put another log on the fire. 

Ambrose went into the bathroom to wash up. He scrubbed his hands, washed his face, brushed his teeth as Horneswood sputtered on the floor.

He wasn’t going anywhere, and would be dead by morning.

___________________

Master Ambrose slipped into bed beside him, smelling faintly of blood. Elliot rolled over, burrowing into him. Ambrose was warm, and protective, and Elliot could finally relax.

“Is he dead?”

Ambrose wrapped an arm around him, a hand coming to pet his hair.

“Dying,” he said. “He won’t hurt you anymore.”

“’Kay. Thank you.” Ambrose pulled him close, humming, and the comfortable sound lulled him into a deep sleep.

taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @secretwhumplair @paintedpigeon1 @whump-blog @whump-em @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @starfields08000 @littlespacecastle @mylovelyme @whump-cravings @zeewbee @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @keepingwhumpwiththekardashians @fanastyfinder @roblingoblin285 @whumpzone @snakebites-and-ink @astrokea @magdalena-writes @latenightcupsofcoffee @tobiaslut

#screaming cheering applauding #feeling good as shit in this chilis tonight #my writing #whump #ambrose and elliot #slavery whump #whumper turned whumpee

[fishnets-fingers]

Out by the Docks

“Did you um- have you… touched yourself more to the thought of me?” She asks him quietly.

“What do you think, hmm?” He responds with a smile. He had come on his stomach and hands an embarrassing amount of times replaying that night. It was pathetic how much she had him in a chokehold.

“I would like to kiss you,” she says, scooting forward to slot her knees between his. “Would you like that too?”

He nods, tongue licking his lips in anticipation as his heart kicks up again. The butterflies start flapping about in his tummy as she leans in with puckered lips.

“I said that I’d like to kiss you not that you could,” he explains when she looks at him with furrowed brows. “You gotta ask me nicely, if you want me to kiss you,” he teases, kissing the tip of her nose.

“You want me to beg?” She scoffs.

PAIRING - spy!harry x princess!y/n

a/n - the long awaited part two to forbidden hours. it was initially supposed to be a small blurb that somehow became twice as long. thank you for waiting and i hope you like this part as much as i do. if you have any requests or ideas for the next part, let me know. as always, like and reblog. feed back is not only appreciated but much welcome. happy reading!

Word Count - 6.2k (not proofread)

MASTERPOST 

.....

பரிசோதி. Examine. Harry runs a check of his catamaran for the fourth time in the past hour. Sailing was something he grew up doing and that did not mean he took it nonchalantly. It was not an easy task in the slightest; if one was not cognizant and five steps ahead of every single aspect of it, the sea would consume them. In a lot of ways it was an intricately woven tapestry of mastering the control of being at the mercy of the ocean. Two completely opposing beliefs somehow meshing together - like acrobats swinging from one side to another, it might seem like they are at the mercy of gravity and the ropes beneath them but they spend their lives mastering and learning how to taunt the inevitable forces without succumbing to it.

“The sea is a cruel mistress, Harry,” his father would often bark at him when he got one of the knots wrong. Which would then result with him doing a plethora of knots over the next few days until his father was convinced he could hold his own with the crew. He looks around, one more time, for good measure. His oars were greased up, the fabric of the sail - albeit dirty - was without tears, he had more ropes than necessary, a smaller set of paddles in case he’d lost it, food to hold him over, and a can of water. 

Late, he sighs, sitting in his boat that was bobbing along with the lazy waves. The sun was over his head shining radiantly casting small shadows. It was past noon and no one had come to hand him the message from Princess Y/N. Did she forget? Can’t be. Maybe the stupid guard is lost, besides, the docks were vast. He reaches into his bag grabbing a fistful of puffed rice and throws it in the water, making the fish - that were previously eating the algae from the sides of his boat - flounder up and nibble on the white flakes. He looks over at their streamlined moist bodies flipping over others as they ravenously eat the floating white specs and his hands absentmindedly tightens the knot that was anchoring his boat to the side of the docks.

“Took you long enough. Have you no regard for people’s time,” he grumbles, as a shadow blocks the beam out light illuminating the iridescent scales of the fish.

“That’s no way to speak to the Princess,” she replies, with a hint of mirth in her tone. He whips his head around to find Y/N towering over him on the wooden dock. 

“I apologise, your highness. I did not know it was you,” his cheeks tinge with pink as he vaults over to the wooden structure.

Y/N did not look like a member of the royal family today. There were no silks or expensive jewelry adorning her body, her hair was not done up high with flowers. It didn’t make her any less captivating in the slightest with her raven hair slicked back in a low bun, a red cotton saree with the long end twisted around her waist to make a belt to keep the top half of the saree intact since she was not wearing a blouse, and a small black dot in between her eyebrows. She had clasped an oxidised silver ornament around her neck and a small ring around her septum. She looked like she’s spent her whole life here out by the docks rather than the giant mansions with sprawling gardens. 

“You - um - look-” Harry starts.

“I’m in disguise, Mr. Styles.” She answers, pulling out a blank parchment paper and hands it over to him. “I apologise for being late. I had stopped by the bazaar.”

“The bazaar, Princess Y/N,” he repeats, looking over her shoulder to find it empty.

“Having guards following me sort of defeats the purpose of the disguise, Harry.” She catches on as his eyes scan behind her.

“Of course.” He looks at the parchment in his hands turning it around. “It’s blank.”

“It is.” 

“I thought I needed to sail to Lanka to deliver a message, ma’am,” he mumbles, looking down at the sheet of yellowed pulp running his thumb over to feel for any creases or indentations.

“Ma’am,” Y/N snorts out. “Really? You’re calling me a ma’am after what happened the other night,” she says, shaking her head in disbelief.

“It’s protocol,” he tells her blankly.

“Was it also protocol to crowd me against my desk in the middle of the night?” She arches her brow, enjoying the way his face flushes with colour. “The message is intended for the recipient’s eyes only. Karthi will know what to do.”

He nods, folding the paper and slotting it into a small zipped pocket of his dhoti pants. “I should set sail soon,” he informs her, making his way into his vessel. “Looks like a storm’s heading this way.”

“How can you tell, Mr. Styles,” she asks, stepping forward to look over at the horizon to find rain laden grey clouds but is instead met with tiny fluffy cotton akin ones dotting the powdery blue skies.

“I can smell it. There was a ring around the moon last night and red skies at dawn. It probably won’t break ground until a few days.”

“Very impressive,” she praises, looking down at him. “Here, I bought you some food for your travel,” she shifts through her linen bag that was draped over her shoulder. She pulls out a box of rambutan and some partially cooked spiced lentils.

“Thank you, Princess.” He stashes it next to his metal box of food supply. “Do you come to town often in your disguise?”

“Not very-” she is interrupted by the sound of people marching and a loud whistle followed by a booming voice asking the soldiers to fall in a single file. “That’s the admiral,” she whispers, eyes bulging out of her head. “Fuck. If he catches me I’m so dead.”

“Hop on,” Harry tells her.

“What?!?” She whisper shouts at him. “I have to head back.”

“I’ll take you to the palace. I know a way - right behind your garden. Get in,” Harry offers, coming over to the side and holding onto the side of the dock.

Y/N balks, looking down at his rickety catamaran. The structure looked like it was going to wither away in a few days - calling it old would be an insult at this point. Prehistoric was more so the right word. The ropes were frayed and seemed used. She is pretty sure the thing was built before she was born. No way in hell, she shakes her head.

“Princess,” he urges, as the sounds of footfall grow closer and closer.

“I’ll walk back. Maybe I can slip past them,” she tells him.

“It sounds like twenty men, how are you going to slip past all of them,” he shakes his head. “You’ll only be dragging me down with you.”

“I’ve slipped in and out of the castle loads of times,” she reasons.

“There’s only one way out of here, unless you fancy swimming,” Harry points out. “Y/N,” he insists, holding out one of his hands. She lets out a sigh and grips his palm as she climbs into the bobbing catamaran. Once she gets situated, Harry grips onto the oars and starts speedily rowing from the dock, away from the bay. 

Harry looks over her every so often at Y/N as he steadily paddles his boat away. She was curled into herself, looking very unsure with her hands wrapped around her arms as she looked back at the disappearing docks. When the vessel bobs due to a sudden current she pales, gripping onto the wooden plank of her seat firmly, eyes never drifting back to the pier. He’s never seen her like that, and he certainly did not peg her to experience trepidation, uncertainty, and fret. The memory of the first time he met her was etched into the deep recesses of his brain. 

It was eight months since he’d seen her for the first time. He had quickly become fast friends with the Crown Prince - her older brother - who had invited him to train within the palace grounds. He made his way into the halls of the building in wonder of tall ceilings and intricately carved woodwork and artwork and was led to the sparring arena. Vikram was waiting for him sans armour - he believed that having armour on while practice lets one have a certain air of nonchalance with the training thereby removing the stakes. His moves and close combat skills were immediately applauded by the members there with the Princes - Vikram and Karthi - asking a guard to take him to the stables, so he could pick his own horse and learn how to ride. That’s when Y/N walked into the arena, dressed immaculately in a cream silk saree and a colourful pashmina wrapped around her shoulders. There was no jewelry on her body other than a pearl choker and her hair was pulled back into a loose braid. There were four other handmaidens following her, who’d stopped at their tracks by the opened double doors as they giggled at the sweat laden covered men.

“What?” She stalked forward and snapped at her brothers.

“Good day to you too, little girl,” Vikram mocks.

“I have far more important things to do than entertain you, Vikram.”

“Don’t get snippy with me because I pulled you out of philosophy class -”

“A class you should be attending,” Karthi notes, throwing his arm around his sister’s shoulder. “One word to the Queen Mother and you won’t see the outside of the library for the next month,” the two giggle together.

“Books don’t teach you anything, combat does. Anyway don’t go ganging up on me,” Vikram raises his hands in submission. “I just called you to meet my new friend,” he cocks his head to the side. “Y/N meet Harry Edwards Styles.”

Harry feels her gaze pierce right through him, her eyes roamed up and down his body. Being scrutinised made him straighten his back upright - mostly in a way to show off his stature. After a few moments her hickory eyes finally settled at his jade orbs. “Mr. Styles,” she greets him with a polite smile. “You must be the sea merchant who’d bought the crates of berry seeds.”

“Your highness,” he bows. “The sea merchant is my father.”

“Ah, makes sense. You seem awfully young to master navigating the treacherous waters of the Pacific.”

“Thank you, Princess,” he mutters, cheeks heating up at her calling him young.

“That was hardly a compliment, Mr. Styles. I was simply noting your lack of experience,” she lifts up her chin, keeping it parallel to the floor. “I understand from what my brothers have told me you plan on riding to battle with Vikram.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

“As noble as your intentions are, how are we to know your allegiance lies with the flag of Chozhamandalam? You landed here seven- eight months ago, am I wrong? I don’t doubt that you’ve seen many kingdoms in your father’s quests, why are you choosing to devote your life to mine? Why not the Crown of England, the land of you and your forefathers?”

“Y/N,” Vikram states firmly. “You are insulting my friend by insinuating things.”

“I’m not insinuating anything, Vikarm. I’m simply doing the grunt work for you like always,” she bites back.

“Stop th-”

“Well she’s not wrong to ask this, brother. Especially after what happened the last time,” Karthi notes. 

“You two never stop throwing what happened ten years ago in my face every single time,” Vikram gets frustrated.

“Your highnesses,” Harry interrupts their squabble. The princess staggered him in a lot of ways, she just met him but it seemed that she had some sort of an upper hand with him and it didn’t stem from her lineage. She seemed to know a lot about him from growing up in different parts of the world to the seeds his father’s crew arrived with. Surely royalty had no business knowing inventory of all the consignments at the ports; he’s sure they had people for that. His accent once thick and pronounced - resembling the dialect of his mother’s village - had now got muddled up spending time with his father’s crew men and it’s settled into a transatlantic hybrid; is that how she pegged him to be English? 

Unlike most women he’s met, Princess Y/N looks directly at him - through him in a manner of speaking - holding eye contact until their exchanges come to a halt. It felt as if she was giving you her utmost attention at all times, but it was also unnerving because Harry felt like she was also playing a game of chess. Slotting individuals in their designated squares after she thoroughly sized someone up. She was still breathtaking as the day he first laid eyes on her but seeing her up close with her gaze trained on him, made him gulp down the nerves that made him feel like she was a step above him, as he spoke, “I understand the need for Princess Y/N to ask me those questions… If I may,” he looks at her brothers flanking her sides for approval.

“Please do, Mr. Styles.” She motions with her hand for him to continue. 

“You are right, Princess Y/N, I have spent very little time in your dynasty as compared to everyone in this room but it does not take away my love for the people. You see, I have seen many places sailing with my father but almost all of them considered me a passerby - especially countries where people looked different to me. I have seen people treat people like sewage based on the colour of their skin, the faith they practice, or the wealth they’ve inherited. The first day I came to these shores, unloading heavy crates at the port, an old woman - who was walking off with a basket of fish - came up to the crew and noticed that we looked worn out and offered up some of the fresh catch so we could cook and eat. The captain denied it, but she insisted we must eat and somehow managed to have my father and the crew over to her house. She cooked for us. A woman who we did not know up until that day, invited strangers into her house and made us a hearty meal. So, to answer your question, my allegiance lies with the people, not a flag.”

“Satisfied?” Vikram smirks, taunting Y/N by bumping his shoulder on hers.

“And as for England, I haven’t been there in forever. I don’t have any ties that bind me other than it being the country my mother resided in.”

“Seems like you have your way with words, Mr. Styles,” she smiles up at him. Harry can’t help the way satisfaction brews in his chest in response to her smile.

“Oh, Y/N, Harry is good with swords, too,” Karthi tells her. 

“That so?” She arches her brow. “Now that is something I need to witness,” she says, walking over and picking one of the swords that was mounted on the wall. 

She unsheathes it, swishing it once to get a sense of its weight, before stepping into the circle. “I like a good challenge. Hope you deliver,” she tells him.

“I don’t quite understand,” he says, looking around the room for signs that it was an elaborate plan, only to be met with none. “Princess Y/N, I’m not going to fight you,” he steps back.

“Why not?” She arches her brows, pulling off the pashmina that was wrapped around herself and tossing it onto the readily waiting hands of a scurrying handmaiden.  

“Because women do not fight, ma’am,” he mumbles, and both Princes snicker at his response.

“Do not? Or not allowed to.” She challenges him.

“It is not what I mean-”

“Do you dare disobey my orders?” Y/N cuts him off. “Now fight. Don’t let up easy because you think women can’t hold their own. If you do, I’ll make you disappear without a trace.”

He nods, squaring his shoulders and hoisting up his own sword. Far be it for him to disobey the Princess Royal. He’ll give her the fight she was asking for.

He advances first, much to his surprise. He expected her to charge at him but she gilded around the periphery matching his moves, unwilling to attack. She swivels his sword to the side and from then their duel mimicked a dance They moved harmoniously, almost like each move was choreographed, both matching each other moves, the sharp end of the blades kissing each other only to be redirected elsewhere. He can’t help but get distracted by the way her supple skin feels when she brushes past him, and the way her scent niggles his heart. He wonders if she feels it too, but no cues that signaled him. They were synchronized - strike for strike, manoeuvre for manoeuvre, a sharp turn for a turn. But when Harry notices, her eyes darting to his feet, he figures out her next move and backs away when she advances forward trying to trip his feet with her own as her sword swivels around. It happens seamlessly, Harry twists around to trap her arm that’s clutching the sword and lunges forward to press the tip of his scimitar to her side of her throat.

He expects her to look up at him with surprise and even a hint of admiration - both looks he was no stranger to from women - but there was no sense of defeat in her face. Instead, her eyes glinted at him as her lips tugged up in a smug smile. His brows knit in confusion and he follows her eyes, feeling a pointy object push against his sternum - harder this time. Y/N’s holding up a small shiv, which she tugged from its sheath tucked against her waist, angled directly for his heart. 

“A stalemate,” she informs him. 

“How?” He asks, suddenly very aware that he’s got her pressed against him in front of a dozen people. She looks even more beautiful up close, with a bead of sweat running down her temple, her honeyed skin flushed from exertion, her full cheeks, flecks of gold in her eyes under the sunlight, a tiny crescent shaped birthmark on the corner of her chin, lips like a flower petal.

He’s almost reluctant to let her get away from his grasp when she steps backward, immediately missing her warmth on him. A soldier collects the sword from her, before she tucks her shiv away in its holder. She explains, while draping her pashmina the handmaiden scurried over to give, “You got cocky. You thought you figured out my next move and thereby acted in a manner that made your vision tunnel to the sword in my hand. While you celebrated your victory before your sword even touched my throat, you failed to realise that I had a shiv pointed at your heart.”

Her loud exhale of relief snaps him out of his reverie, her shoulder relaxes a smidge but Harry notices that she’s still tightly wound. Her arms are crossed protectively around herself with her knees towards her chest. She should look out of place in the catamaran he’d bought a few months ago at a bargain - bear boned structure unlike the things she was used to - but she didn’t. Almost like the wooden plank in front of him was made for her. She didn’t look out of place, just a tad nervous. “We’re in the clear,” she declares, once the pier completely disappears from view as he rows over to another bay nearby. It was rocky and jagged, lined with palm and coconut trees, dense with shrubbery sprouting all over the sand with an odd dollop of violet flowers breaking the monotony of green.

“Told you I knew a place,” he smirks. “Besides,” he remarks, leaning backward to get more movement with his row as he navigates away from the rocks and towards the shore. “It’s the least I could do. Disguising yourself and coming all the way to the docks to give me food and bid me farewell.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Y/N scoffs. “I didn’t sneak out of the palace for you.”

“Why do I find that hard to believe?”

“Stop being so cocky,” she admonishes him as her eyes fall on the way the muscles on his arm flex and bulge as he moves the oars. The veins on his hands looked delicious with the way he gripped the oars as he tugs and pulls back as he moves. 

“Can’t help it, Princess.” He chuckles. “Especially with you drooling over my arms.”

Y/N feels the heat scorch her cheeks from his comment, immediately tearing her eyes away. “Shut up, Harry.”

“How was your trip to the capital? Did you confront your Uncle?” He inquires, asking her about the incident that led him to break into her chamber. 

“Busy. The capital is never not busy. Dad’s sick,” she adds the last part quietly.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” There has been a hushed talk among the people about the King’s decline in health. Stories of people coming down from the far East and embedding needles in his flesh, and letting leeches draw impure blood spread like wildfire.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. People contract illnesses all the time. I’m sure it will pass.” She turns to the shores, eyes scanning to see if there are people around and Harry does the same, even if he knows that this area of the bay is always deserted. “I didn’t talk to my Uncle,” she answers. 

“Why not? Won’t it be best to put a stop to it right now?”

“Why would I let him know that I know what he’s plotting?” She shrugs. “It’s not about putting a stop to it, it’s how you do it. I didn’t talk to him. I asked to meet with the governors instead. Told them it was  time we start looking for brides for the future King. With Dad’s health, we must be prepared for Vikaram’s coronation and it would not be a good look, if he did not have a queen by his side at age of twenty five.”

“That helps how?”

“Easy. While they were busy squabbling over what kingdom to approach for talks of courtships, with fear brewing in their chest about the possibility of the Dynasty having added support from another kingdom. I’d simply said that I do not wish that and I would much rather prefer that the Crown Prince marry a Chola woman of nobility - one that knows our ways and our people. I’d pointed out that many of the governors - especially the ones who were meeting with my Uncle - themselves have daughters who were fit to be the future queen,” she smiles, satisfied with herself.

“Smart. There’s no way they’re going to support your Uncle now. Pitting swindling tax money and being the power that comes with being father of a future queen. Why would they not want to be the in-law of the Crown?”

“Exactly. You seed the idea of climbing up the ladder, and they are putty. There’s nothing more seductive than power. My Uncle’s support ought to dwindle.”

She is a good politician and the thought makes his chest swell in pride. Harry will never understand royal life. He covets the glitz and glamour that comes with hitting the genetic lottery but the more he spent time with the heirs the more he learnt that it was all exhausting mind games, endless duties to fulfil along with conducting yourself the way people deemed fit. It must suck. Uncle who doted on you growing up is the same one that's planning to overthrow you all this time, he thinks. He pulls the oars in when he feels the boat make contact with the sand bed, jolting the two in the wooden structure. 

Y/N lurches forward from the sudden movement, hands coming to grip his forearms to brace herself. “Sorry,” she mumbles, straightening up and squaring off her shoulders. 

“Are you sure you didn’t come all the way to the docks to not see me, Princess?” He teases. 

“You think highly of yourself, Harry,” she laughs, reaching in her linen bag and shifting through it. 

“How could I not? Besides look at where you got me,” he gestures to the scenery around them. It was just the two of them on his catamaran by the shore, the sun shining high up in the sky, and a cool breeze makes it way to them making the leaves and branches of the trees dance in its rhythm. Awfully convenient, he wonders as they bask in the solitude of the crashing waves and the screech of birds. 

“I got you?” She scoffs, raising her eyebrows. “If I recall correctly, it was you who pulled me into your boat. So, who got who alone?” 

A right menace, he shakes his head. “Why are you here then, Y/N?” He hopes it’s to continue where they’d left off that night, his body pressed up unbelievably close to her. He doesn’t miss sparing a glance - when she tucks a stray stand of hair behind her ear, inadvertently moving the fabric of her saree exposing the soft skin of her belly rising and falling as she breathes.  Even without all the fanfare around her appearance, she never looked less gorgeous.

She opens her palm, revealing a few brown candies wrapped in thin butter paper. A candy he knew all too well. It was popular in the port town. Sweet tamarind candy. “For these,” she admits. “My family thinks I should not be eating peasant treats. So, whenever I come to town to check on how the people are doing and how the children are responding with the school’s curriculum, I make sure to buy this in bulk from the market and stash it in my room.” 

“You do it often?”

“Not as often as I like,” she admits, stuffing them back in her bag. 

“Didn’t peg you as a sneak. Why not come to check on the people as the princess?”

“Because people don’t talk to me. They talk to the Princess. The crown. If they know I’m coming, they don’t see me, they see the ostentatious display of wealth and put on the best version of themselves. I want my people to talk to me, unfiltered as possible.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t been caught,” Harry claims. “It’s not the best disguise, Y/N. I can see right through it.”

“That’s because you actually bother to look at me. You’d be surprised how little people actually look into my eyes. People don’t pay attention to people they don't care about, especially ones that are from a lower caste and don’t draw too much attention to themselves. You’d be surprised how many people bumped into me today without so much as an apology.” She laughs, the tinkling sound cutting right through the monotonous sound of waves carding against the shore. “Besides, I’ve got my lady-in-waiting covering for me and my guards are standing outside the door, thinking I’ve taken to the bed,” she shrugs. 

“Next time let me know.” The words tumble out of Harry’s mouth before his brain can comprehend. “Can’t have people bumping into you.”

A smile blooms across her face. “I’ll survive. Thanks for the offer though,” she replies, pursing her lips together in an attempt to refrain from telling him how cute he looked. 

“You know,” Harry starts, taking one of her hands in both of his. “I was kinda hoping you came here and demand that you continue where we left off,” he confesses, green eyes flicking up at hers to gauge her reaction. 

Y/N can’t help but reel at the sensation of his slightly calloused thumb drawing circles on the back of her hand. “What if I did?”

“I think I would like that very much.” Harry gives her a shy smile. “Was kinda beating myself up for not kissing you that night.”

“I didn’t know you liked me. Much less in a sexual manner-”

“I think it’s more than lust, Y/N,” he confesses, bringing her hand up and brushing his lips against her knuckles. 

“Did you um- have you… touched yourself more to the thought of me?” She asks him quietly, hoping that he did not bed other women in town after that night.

“What do you think, hmm?” He responds with a smile. He had come on his stomach and hands an embarrassing amount of times replaying that night. It was pathetic how much she had him in a chokehold.

“I would like to kiss you,” she says, scooting forward to slot her knees between his. “Would you like that too?”

He nods, tongue licking his lips in anticipation as his heart kicks up again. The butterflies start flapping about in his tummy as she leans in with puckered lips. He backs up in the very last second when his lips were an inch away from hers, making her headbutt him in the process.

“I said that I’d like to kiss you not that you could,” he explains when she looks at him with furrowed brows. “You gotta ask me nicely, if you want me to kiss you,” he teases, kissing the tip of her nose. 

“You want me to beg?” She scoffs.

“Not necessarily but it won’t hurt to throw a please in there,” he mutters against the flamed skin of her cheek as he trails wet kisses up to the corner of her eye.

Her breath washes over him as she sighs, “Fine. Just this once though, don’t get used to it. Kiss me, pl-”

He cuts her off, smearing his lips with hers. Her lips were softer than he could have dreamt. His hands immediately move to cup her cheeks, tilting her head, so their noses weren’t smushed. He holds her delicately, like she was made of the finest crystal. Their eyes flutter close as their body relaxes into each other, lips moving in sync like they were destined to do this. Her palms slowly creep up his chest, resting firmly at the crook of his neck, grinning at the way she pulls a pleasured hum from him. Kissing someone never felt this right to Harry. They do it once, one more time, and another time before their lungs force them apart to pull in air. He leans in to peck her swollen lips again, silently thanking the ocean for bringing him to her.

Harry was right, he doesn’t think he had it in him to stop now that he had a taste. He reaches forward, wrapping a strong arm around the small of her back, while the other cradles her bum, pulling her onto his lap eliciting a quiet gasp from her. Y/N doesn’t waste time connecting their lips again. Only this time, Harry swipes his tongue across her bottom lip - seeking permission. His hands grip her in place at her ribs, resting right below her breasts. She opens up for him willingly and he wiggles his tongue into her mouth, licking hers hesitantly. She moans into his mouth, fingernails pressing crescents on the defined muscles of his back. He grunts out, feeling the heat pool from his chest and making its way south to his throbbing cock. They slot together perfectly, Y/N can’t help but grind down to help relieve the pressure building up in her tummy. 

“Do you like it?” He pulls back checking in, talking against her lips as they pant against each other.

“Very much,” she answers, fluttering her eyes open as her forehead rests against his. “Am I satisfactory in this kissing ordeal?”

Harry lets out a boyish laugh, the one that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle and the dimples in his cheek deepen. “You are heavenly, Princess.”

Y/N gives him a satisfactory smile. “You have a scar here,” she notes as her eyes focus on the small cut under his left eyebrow.

“Got it from a fishing hook when I was nine,” he tells her. They’d been on this ship for a month now and Harry was getting restless, so he’d convinced one of the crew men to teach him to throw a line. Instead of waiting for the instructions, he simply grabbed the pole and whipped it around, resulting in a gash and his father incessantly yelling at him for being careless.

Her fingers feather over the mark, ghosting over the skin. Her touch was so gentle that Harry wondered if she was afraid that blood might ooze out if she put any pressure. He goes to tease her but she beats him to it, pressing her lips to the scar. She lingers breathing in his scent - a musky woody one underlying the smell of the salty sea.

Y/N’s gesture makes his breath hitch, a lump forming in his throat. The delicate nature of her action, knocked the wind out from his solar plexus. He didn’t realise he craved tenderness until now, there was no one to kiss his boo boos on the boat. He barely registered the pain back when the fish hook tore through his flesh, instead he was apologising to his father telling him that he’ll be better while pressing a muslin cloth to the wound. No one has been this tender with me. “Y/N,” he breathes out as a single tear rolls from his eye, “Thank you.”

She doesn’t understand why Harry’s crying as he thanks her but she gives him a comforting smile thumbing away the tear as he sniffles. He kisses her again, slipping his tongue into her mouth as they both sigh in satisfaction. That’s how they stay for the next hour, tangled together as desire simmers in their nerve endings. Lips caressing each other, as their tongue prods and rolls around in each other's mouth. Harry’s hands rests on her hips, fingers finding the skin of her stomach rubbing circles into them as Y/N tests Harry by making him moan as she tugs on the curls at the nape of his neck. The catamaran lazily bobs in the water not wanting to disrupt  the two, like the ocean understood that they were going to part with each other soon. But the sky had other plans, a distant rumble of thunder jolting them apart, reminding them of reality. Y/N shuffles back to her seat despite his grumbled protests, reaching in her bag to hand him some copper coins, “For your trouble,” she explains. 

“You’re paying me for kissing you?” He chuckles.

“No! It’s for rowing me here from the docks.”

“I didn’t do it for the money.”

“I know but I insist,” she states firmly.

He examines the coins in his palm and laughs. “I don’t understand how you haven’t been recognized in the markets. These are the shiniest copper coins I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he comments. 

Harry’s right. The Princess had no use for copper coins, she only used gold. The coppers denominated smaller values of money and had no place among royalty. She usually goes out of her way to request some from the mint in the capital, telling her father that she needs them to throw into wells when she makes wishes. Y/N thinks wishes were lame and if her father knew her any better, he’d catch on to the fact that she had been using the coppers to visit the markets. People rarely had brand new coins because it dulled and discoloured from use. No would have so many on them at once.

Their farewell was brief. Harry helps her to the shore, telling her how to sneak back into her castle. She interrupts him when he lets her know that there's a spot  - one that’s covered in vines and deceptive to the untrained eye - low in the stone back wall of the butterfly garden of her grounds, telling him that she was the one who designed it to aid in her sneaking out. He pulls her in a long tight hug, breathing in her floral scent as he mumbled goodbyes against the column of her throat he was busy trailing kisses on. It wasn’t lost on Harry that Y/N was trying to sneak some of the candy she’d purchased into his pockets.

“Show this to the soldiers,” she pulls out her golden ring, which bore the sigil of her family. “You won’t need to sneak in. Tell them I sent you and show them the ring, they’ll take you to Karthi.”

He nods, slipping the ring on his pinky, before kissing her with reckless abandon as his hands move down her back, grabbing a fistful of her bum and squeezing it. Y/N laughs, poking his side before getting on her toes again, to plant a kiss on his cheek. He wades into the waves, pushing the boat further out into the open water.

“Be careful, Harry,” she calls out from the shore when he hops on the boat. “You know with the storm and all. Don’t want you getting lost in the middle of the ocean,” she jokes weakly but even from far Harry could tell that her eyes were full of concern.

“Promise,” his voice rings out with sincerity. “Got someone to come home to now, haven’t I, Princess?” He teases one last time, giving her a wave.

“Promise,” his voice rings out with sincerity. “Got someone to come home to now, haven’t I, Princess?” He teases one last time, giving her a wave. 

#harry syles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles yn #harry styles x you #spy!harry #princess!reader #princess!y/n #fishnets-fingers #COME SAY HI #please leave tags if you reblog #out by the docks

[kookiecrumb]

JJK || Symphony

header by: @jjkeverlast

pairing: maestro!jungkook x fem!cellist!reader

wc: 5K

summary: You have the hots for your music professor, and he wants you, but it could just be all in your head.

tags: professor x student trope, oneshot, dom!jungkook, strangers to lovers, eventually they get married but that's only mentioned at the end

warnings: smut (18+), fingering, masturbation (m&f), oral (m receiving), tongue-sucking, vocal kink, some praise kink, some corruption kink, dacryphilia, rough sex turned soft, unprotected sex* (don't do this), creampie! <3, explicit language,

a/n: aaahhhh hahahaha! I only planned on this being like 2K long. Oh well. Enjoy it.

The yellow-tinted windows of the cathedral in the early morning are heavenly. The beams of light land on the rustic wooden floors of the place of worship, falling upon the upright pews and catching particles of dust traveling aimlessly within this space.

You are the very first to arrive in your uniform, a simple black dress with black flats and no attention-grabbing jewelry that might distract from this morning's performance. After all, the brilliance of the pieces that are about to float from your fingertips should be enough to capture the ears of the esteemed service-goers.

The choir is late, but that's to be expected. They always are. It is the fault of the director, Mr.Kim, who has an oversleeping problem that he refuses to admit in fear of getting his contract with this particular church terminated.

That being said, you have seen advertisements for a new choir director on campus at your university. Only, the job description says that it only pays half of what Mr.Kim claims he makes.

This morning, you are performing select pieces from a famous mass. Although it was not necessarily required of you, you've memorized at least a few measures of the Gloria and some of the Kyrie. It came as a second nature to you after years of careful study.

Your binder is tucked away under your arm as you approach the stage, where the chairs are aligned in perfect position. The sound of your heels thudding against the floor revertebrate throughout the room as you walk forward, a speck in the expanse of the historic cathedral.

Your rhythm is interrupted by the sound of five musicians making loud conversation as they enter through the doors of the church, some voices familiar, some not. Admittedly, you did jerk at the sudden sound of the hefty doors opening.

At least now, you are sure you are awake. You sit down at your chair, humbly, and unzip your cello from its case to tune.

The musicians laugh and chat in the lobby, a plastic cup of water in their hands as they arbitrarily articulate irrelevant stories that come to mind as they please.

Secretly, you have a longing for that sort of thing. You'd never go so far as to approach the group, but you admire their carefree nature. A proper musician must establish these connections within an orchestra. Despite knowing this, you stay silent, far too timid to even begin.

"--No! I cannot do this again!" Maestro Min bursts through the side entrance of the stage. He is yelling passionately into his phone, on a tangent. "I can't. I cannot. You would have to fire me on the spot before you drag me back to that place, and I stand by that!"

Your eyes widen in alarm at what you're hearing. It would be an understatement to say that Dr.Min has never in a million years screamed like that in his life.

"No. End of story." He angrily smashes his index against the hang up button on his phone and slips it into his back pocket. With a deep, annoyed sigh, he scavanges his pockets for a conducting wand. Once he finds it, he pulls it out and glances up at what should have been a prepared orchestra.

Instead, he finds only you, gazing at him with big eyes and a concerned snarl.

"Fuck. Fuck it." He wipes his face. "I cannot. I can't do this today, I can't do this ever. I quit."

The tantrum finally catches the attention of the chattering woodwinds, unaware of the impact of their tardiness.

That's how you end up conductor-less in the middle of your spring season during your second year completing your Master's degree.

Administration did not handle it well, to say the least. There are not many candidates who qualify for such a job. The sub-par salary of a Maestro is secondary to the attachments and connections built throughout their career.

There is no such demand.

Hopelessly, you carried on studying solo pieces that only barely challenged your musucianship. In vain, you picked up your bow and practiced familiar techniques that you waywardly decided on revisiting.

The entire month of April was wasted in practice rooms, performing pieces that would never reach any established musician's ear. The baritone thrum of the cello became a synonym to the sad fate of a musician without an audience.

It wasn't until May that one of the chatty woodwinds mentioned something that peaked your interest.

"Did you hear what happened to Mr.Kim?!" Emilia shrieked in devilish delight. "He got fired on the spot when they found out what he was doing with the fundraiser money."

The others gathered around the girl, intrigued by the news.

"Really?! So now we're down two music professors in one semester," you cut through the noise, livid.

Emilee shakes her head, smirking. "I was getting to that part! You didn't let me finish, girlie." Her eyes scan the room, allowing for the anticipation to build. "They've finally replaced him!"

A collective gasp overcomes the room.

"And!" She shrieks. "And-- He's also going to be our new Maestro!"

The room erupts into deafening cheering, causing you to cringe and block your ears.

You escape the overwhelming sound in the hallway of the performing arts building, where you find a tall stranger standing in front of the events board.

He appears to stare wistfully at the unrealized events pinned to the corkboard, humming thoughtfully as he browses the selection of performances. "Hmmm..."

You would normally ignore him, but your ride home wouldn't be here for another hour and you felt like taking a chance. "Excuse me?"

He turns his head back in surprise. "Hm?! Oh! Do you go here? I mean, are you an arts student?"

Kind of a ridiculous question, but who are you to judge a stranger. He looked lost. "Yes," you answer, quickly.

"Ohh...and how is that?" He asks, flirtatiously. You weren't sure if he meant to say it that way, but you gave him the benefit of the doubt and ignored his question altogether.

"Are you looking for anything in particular?" You pivot, confused.

"No, no. I was just hired. I'm going to be conducting the choir and orchestra here, so I thought I would, uh," Jungkook gestures towards the board, "catch up on the happenings."

Holy shit, this is your new Maestro? He looks 23. "You look 23," you whisper under your breath.

"I'm...25, actually," he laughs.

You wince. What the hell.

"I am so sorry. I did not mean to say that out loud, at all. It just wasn't an appropriate thing of me to say, just..." you wave your hands around, grabbing excuses out of the air.

"No, No." He emphasizes. "Do not worry about it. I do get it all the time. I just pulled a few strings to get here. Trust me, I'm just as qualified as you might be to be doing all this," he sighs, briefly reflecting on his decisions.

"Haha! Yeah," you speak through your teeth.

"Yeah, so," Jungkook clears his throat, "I'm gonna head into the room, introduce myself...and hopefully, we'll see each other tomorrow?" He double checks.

"Tomorrow. Every weekday and Saturday," you affirm.

"Great! See you then. Bye, Y/N," he nods and walks past you, into the orchestra room.

That night, when you're alone and the only light there is is that of the candles burning on your desk, you find yourself thinking of him.

The gentle glow of the fire creates shadows on your body as your hands caress the skin beneath them. Breath fills your lungs as you inhale deeply, the scent of clean linen reminding you of tranquility.

Deep within your thoughts, lies a seed of pleasure planted by him. You discover it there, and linger on the idea of developing it.

Blind pleasure does not adhere to the rules of morality, no matter how society restrains it. This is true for all perverse attractions. Why should this be the exception?

With careful hands, you begin touching yourself. Your body expands to welcome the touch as a relaxed smile warmly paints your face. "Mmh," you sigh, a dull, heated tension growing inside you.

His palms were so big. You retrace where your mind went initially when you first glanced at them. He wore rings, all of them silver but each of them unique. Jungkook would plunge his middle and ring finger into your cunt effortlessly and praise you as he did it for taking them so well.

Your breath stutters as you quicken your pace. Moans spill from your mouth in quiet whimpers, your eyebrows knitting together in a gratifying pleasure.

You imagine the way he spoke to you was no mistake, that he wanted you more than anything at that very moment. That he would press his thigh between your legs and make you ride him in that very hallway.

"Ah, fuck," you mouth, your heart stammering against your chest as you indulge further down into the realm of your fantasies. "Hh~"

Just then, his voice appears in your head. "You're so desperate..."

Yes, you are.

"Just for me."

With a jolt, you squeeze your eyes shut and ride out your reward. "Fuck-- ohhh, fuck," you sigh.

This is gonna be a problem.

The next morning comes too quickly. You're practically falling out of your seat during the beginning of practice. Slouching has no place in an orchestra. Reminding yourself of this, you quietly straighten up and take another long sip of your morning iced tea.

Around you, people are relaxing and collectively wondering of the new Maestro's actual ability to conduct an adult orchestra full of master's students. Little did you know that Jungkook was about to prove himself right before your eyes.

From the minute he entered the room, he demanded the attention of you and your peers.

He stands over the music stand, his eyes scouring the paper for a particular measure. "Page 74, measure 224. Let me hear those violas and that rhythmic motif," he directs, his face buried in his score.

The violas hurry to that very particular measure. Once everybody has found it, Jungkook makes eye contact with the first chair, and begins conducting jubilantly.

After a few seconds of imperfect playing, he nods his head to the side and puts down his conducting wand. "Okay," he grumbles, grabbing his pencil and annotating the page directly.

He lifts his eyes up and greets the percussion with a warm grin. "A few measures before that, please. Pick up to 220."

So, the drum major makes eye contact with Maestro Jeon, watching closely for tempo and then begins to play.

This time, Jungkook is pleased with the result, so he does not write anything down. Instead, he greets the lower strings, including you.

It takes everything in you not to choke on your spit then and there. You're a section leader, so, obviously, he looks at you to indicate your entrance. "C'mon, Y/N. Measure 224 with the violas. Watch for rhythm," he smiles, encouragingly.

You glance down at your score and then back up at Jungkook and then back at your score. You're lost, but you go for it anyways.

The phrase floats smoothly. Trust in the rehearsed version of this otherwise complex motif is essential. You must rely on instinct.

It's over before you realize, and you're left only with Jungkook's reaction. He wears a slight, impressed frown. It's satisfactory.

"Well done. It seems as if the violas have corrected their earlier mistake and we will not need to work on this section today," Jungkook announces to the orchestra, collectively. "Instead, I'll take this time to introduce myself to the class."

So, Jungkook pulls up a wooden stool from near the door and sits on it with his hands folded. He rolls up his sleeves for his own comforts sake. It is significantly hotter inside the room today. It's only then that you notice he is heavily tattooed on his right arm.

You bite your lip and zone out for a good minute just staring at the intricacies of his tattoos.

Suddenly, classroom erupts in a lighthearted laughter with a few people glancing over at you.

"Hmmm?" You hum, looking around. "Did I miss something, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Jungkook shakes his head. "We were all just talking about your tendency to have your head up in the clouds."

You aren't offended. It is true that you tend to get carried away at times, especially when your new Maestro is this handsome. "Oh, haha! Yeah."

Cheeky giggles scatter throughout the orchestra before the room settles down.

You clear your throat and reach for the bottle of water at your feet, taking a few gulps before putting it back down and refocusing.

Jungkook rubs his palms together and sighs. "Right! So that's me. I hope all of you extend out your hand to me throughout the following weeks, as I am new and I have absolutely no idea what I am doing yet," he laughs. The room laughs with him.

"I'm just kidding. I've got things to prepare for the chamber choir, in my office. The rest of class time is yours and please don't be afraid to reach out to me." Jungkook gestures towards a smaller office space to the left of the practice room.

He scans the orchestra with his eyes once more, curiously before standing up from his chair and disappearing into the room, walking with purpose towards his new desk.

You're fixated on the door for a few seconds before your thoughts wander elsewhere. Honestly, wonder if you've embarrassed yourself. The thought is haunting. If you've given a bad first impression, the next two years will surely be a living hell.

You are dragged back to reality by the sound of the afternoon bells.

The classroom gradually gathers their instruments and their binders and make their way to the front of the room with their bags and personal belongings with minimal talking.

Without appearing too distraught, you, too, pick up your things and leave.

The door is blocked by lingering people, so you have to wait a bit before exiting. This, however, gives you a perfect view into the new Maestro's office.

It might have been just your impression. In fact, you're sure it's just your impression, but...

Jungkook lifted his eyes from his paperwork, only for a second, and winked at you.

You whip your head around in an attempt to verify it with someone who saw it too.

Nobody did.

Jungkook is accustomed to working late nights. As a graduate student, he would pull all-nighters at local grub spots just to get his work done on time. It wasn't uncommon for him in the least.

He ended up in his new office until seven at night. At that point, it would take him thirty minutes to get home and he'd be asleep by nine.

Jungkook groans, leaning back into his chair. It's deafeningly quiet. He should have just taken all the papers home where he could listen to the music or have something on in the background.

Regretting his decision to stay so late, he organizes the work he has completed and sets it off to the side. He pats himself down, standing up from his seat and checking if he still has his keys on him.

Once he's made sure he has everything in order for the next day, he locks both his office door and the practice room door and makes his way down the dark hallway toward the staff parking lot.

He starts his car and huffs out a tired "there we go." Jungkook glances over at his passenger seat and at his binder. "Ahhh...fuck."

Jungkook parks his car in front of a Brooklyn-style pizza joint outside of his apartment complex. He climbs out of the car, the streetlights creating streaks of white light against the glass.

He stumbles inside with his hands in his pockets and gazes up, only to find that there is no menu.

The cashier stands with her arms tucked in to one another, patiently waiting for him to order in her worn apron.

"Just one slice of cheese and a coke," he shrugs.

"A single cheese and a coke, that'll be five dollars," she replies. Fair enough.

At home, you're sitting on your bed with your legs crossed, watching re-runs in your pajamas. You hug a bowl of popcorn between your thighs. It's sprinkled with white cheddar. A gust of wind carries the rain to your window, causing a pattering sound.

"But-- I love you, Stacey," A man from the television says in a transatlantic accent. He's standing under a veranda, next to a shop window that advertises discounted haircuts.

"I-I love you too, Brad," the woman hesitates.

"Do you?!" He's brought to tears. "Or do you love Chad?!"

In a dramatic turn of events, a man who you could only assume was Chad steps out from the shadows and confronts the woman alongside Brad.

"W-what?!" She gasps.

"That's right! I know you've been sleeping with Chad this entire time. You're a vixen and a-- a whore!" Brad screams.

Stacey shakes her head and grabs Brad's coat in a desperate attempt to reconcile with him. They argue for a bit and the screen pans to a view of the city as the credits roll.

"Pff, that's dumb," you criticize, changing the channel, casually.

"And now, it's time for America's favorite game show-- Wheel Of Fortune!"

"Oh, okay," you shrug, plunging your hand back into the popcorn bowl, grabbing a handful and bringing it up to your face.

"Today's category is..."

"Oh, I wonder what it's gonna be," you wonder, snacking on another handful of popcorn.

"Pick up lines to use on your professor!"

You choke. Huh?

"That's right! This broadcast is brought to you by Mr.Jeon Jungkook who wants Y/N from Lakeview to stop being a pussy and ask him out!"

Your jaw drops open. "Whatthefuck," you mouth. You lean forward towards the television.

"Whoaaa...sounds like she needs to wake up from her dream, right, Vanna?"

"Right. Pat!" She smiles, giggling flirtaciously.

Pat laughs, and that's when you realize the rain has stopped. It's now daytime outside, as if hours had passed in an instant.

"Fuck, I'm dreaming!"

You jump awake, glancing over at your digital clock. It's the middle of the night, but there's no way you're sleeping again after that nightmare.

So, you swing your legs over the bed and walk off to the kitchen to get some water.

Jungkook was passed out cold on the couch. He barely had time to undo his tie from the moment he sat down to when he drifted away to a deep sleep. His body spread across the furniture with his bag still in-hand, he snored softly as meaningless dreams filled his mind.

It wasn't until four in the morning when he jerked awake in a panic, worried he had overslept.

"Mmmgh...fuck," he groans, looking over at the moon blinding him through the livingroom window. He's not gonna be able to sleep again.

Knowing this, he straightens himself out on the couch and turns on the television so the apartment doesn't sound so empty. He switches through a couple channels before settling on a romantic drama.

"Oh," he hums. It's a guilty pleasure of his to enjoy this sort of thing. Some might call it soft, but he didn't care. Romance helps one be more in-tune with their feminine side. Plus, the leads were usually super cute.

He's never heard of this one before, though.

Imagine his surprise when you appear on-screen, right in front of him.

"...huh?" He laughs in disbelief. "That's y/n. I didn't know she was an actress?" You are, in fact, not an actress. Curious, he follows the story.

In this episode, you fall into the arms of a handsome CEO who is known for his cool demeanor, but who is weak in the knees for only you.

Jungkooks tongue pokes his cheek in jealousy. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. They go slightly out of focus, and when they come back in, the actress' face is completely different.

"...what?" He stumbles. He clicks rewind on his remote control and starts the episode over, watching for the face of the actress.

It was never you.

Jungkook rubs his eyes and shrugs it off as if it was some glitch in the matrix. However, now that you're in his head...you're not leaving.

Instead, he starts thinking about just how cute you were yesterday. You were definitely staring. He knew it. Your face when he winked at you earlier was priceless. It made him wonder exactly how you felt towards him.

In a man's mind, any girl who looks at him that way most definitely fantasizes about him roughly fucking her pussy until she cums hard.

Again.

Again, and again.

Until it's plugged with his cum. Until it flows out of your slutty hole like a sticky stream.

He wonders if he could catch you after practice some time. Bend you over easily and shove himself inside of you before you could ever question what he's doing. That clueless expression, realization, and then reaction would be to die for.

Jungkook bites his lip, his heartbeat quickening. He adjusts his pants, releasing his cock from them and stroking himself lackadaisically. He leans back into the couch and spaces out again, thinking of your lips around it.

"Fuck yes, ohhh fuck yeah," he hisses, imagining it all the way in the back of your throat. Your tongue would do wonders on his underside. He imagines you making small, desperate sounds as he uses your throat to get off. "Gonna be a good girl for me, hm? After all, you are first chair. Such an obedient slut," he groans into a smile.

His mouth gapes open as he shakingly rides his first, his eyes squeezed shut. "Mm! Mm, mm, mmhh mmmh," he grunts, languidly fucking his cock into his wide palm. "Fuck! Fuck, ohhh fuck," he breaks, stuttering his hips until his cum flows from his tip down his monstrous length.

"!! Shit! These are my business pants!" He snaps his eyes open, realizing his nice pair of slacks are now stained with his horny cum.

He laughs at himself, slapping one hand on his face. "Idiot."

The next morning, Jungkook attends practice in jeans. It's a questionably appropriate fashion choice, in your humble opinion, but he still looks really nice in them. They're a light wash with no rips, and he's paired them with a flowing, white shirt that looks slightly oversized.

You hum, just admiring his effortlessly sexy look before opening your binder to the indicated measure and playing the part you had rehearsed yesterday, and the continuing on to the next movement with no hesitation.

He looks extremely professional throughout the whole thing, conducting as if it were his first language. Jeon Jungkook lives for the music, and his previous studies at Berklee and then Julliard show that. He's an established man with many talents, and that's what incredibly enticing about him.

He shows it in the way he interacts with the pieces he conducts and teaches. The dedication put into both authenticity and ingenious invention is derivative of mastery.

Practice ends on time. You're satisfied with your work.

You rise from your seat, discreetly checking your chair to make sure you haven't made any patch on your chair. It's a little embarrassing, but very necessary to save from further embarrassment.

In the process, you're completely unaware that your underwear is visible to him.

Everyone else is spilling out of the doors. Class has disbursed, and there's no need for you to stick around…so why do you?

"Mmmh, Miss Y/L/N," Jungkook slurs. "You've stayed behind."

"Hm? Oh…sorry, I'm gonna be a little late out today, then," you playfully dismiss him, still gathering your thing with your skirt up towards him. You're oblivious to it, obviously.

"Oh, because," Jungkook smirks. "You look like you need something from me. Don't you?" He rises from his chair and climbs the long, flat stairs leading up to your humble seat.

"...No, not that I know of, Mr.Jeon. I'm okay. I've got my music and my instrument is tuned, and I–"

Your eyes glance upwards and Jungkook is glaring at you like you're his next meal. Lord have mercy.

Your face is right where his crotch is, hovering above it. From this angle, your eyes look pleading. You swallow hard.

"You can touch me however you like. You look wet," Jungkook pulls his hands from his pockets and gestures towards your pathetic little skirt.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Mr.Jeon– it happens sometimes and I don't want you to get the wrong idea–"

"I'm not stupid, Y/N," he rolls his eyes and takes a hold of your face roughly with his right hand. "I want to satisfy your cunt. Give me that honor, won't you?"

Within seconds, he's peeling back what's left of your panties and plunging his thick fingers in your pussy, stroking you while you're stuffing your mouth full of his dick.

You whimper, bobbing your head on it as you choke a little from just how thick it is. It fills your throat unlike anything else, your tongue wrapping around the heavy length and sucking it desperately.

You hollow your cheeks to take it deeper, swallowing around it as you feel your eyes and nose pinch and flood with tears. You breathe through your nose.

Jungkook forces your mouth down on him, strings of groans flowing from his mouth as he mimics your rhythm, pumping his digits into your needy cunt.

Your clit spasms as you feel him stretching you like that. "Mh~!" You whimper, gushing around his digits, coating them as they glide inside you. "Ohh mm~!"

Jungkook snaps his hips up, thrashing roughly into your mouth before he pulls you off of him. "Sit on my dick," he rasps.

You latch off and sit on his lap.

"The fuck did I say?" He scoffs. He pulls your hips on to him and rips your panties to shove his dick into your dripping cunt.

You yelp, pouting at the new stimulation. "Shut up–" he pulls you into a heated kiss, his wet tongue exploring your mouth in curious detail. "Mmm! Mmm," he moans.

He uses his hands to push and pull your hips and roll himself into you, grinding in small, mind-bending circles. "Feel it stretch you, relax…let me fuck you," he pants.

He picks up his pace.

"Oh– fuck! Fuck, fuck– Jungkook!" You whine. "Mmmm!"

Tears threaten your eyes as you hump him in desperation, mindlessly riding his cock.

"Are you gonna cry for it?" He buzzes against your lips. "Are you gonna cry for my dick? So good, yeah? Good girl…"

You roll your eyes, smiling, completely dumbified by his words. "Yeahh~ yeah–" you sing. "Mh~…"

He sucks on your tongue, disregarding your ruined lips and thrashing himself into you. His hands squeeze your ass for stability, his grip strengthening with each stroke.

"Aaah~" a deep groan rips through him. Your eyes widen, your breath quickening as you feel your orgasm build.

You squeeze your eyes shut, pulling Jungkook's hands from your ass to your greedy clit.

Jungkook breaks into a relieved smile and starts playing with your swollen bud, rubbing you with his careful fingertips. "Mmm~!" You moan, euphorically. "Ohhh…yeah~"

Your hands rest against his chest, kissing him wildly as your orgasm washes over you quickly, causing you to flutter around his dick. He stutters, holding your body to his as he pumps you full of his cum with a staggering thrust.

You sigh, simultaneously. You run your fingers through his hair and put your forehead to his. "That felt so good, I needed that…" you admit, smiling softly.

"You needed that? So did I," Jungkook pants back. "I had a weird hallucination about it."

"I had a dream about it!" You reply, delighted.

"I'm so glad we fucked," he laughs. "We're like the same age though. It's not weird, either."

"Not at all," you reply.

After a minute of getting your heartbeats down to a normal pace and soft kissing, you start to get cleaned up with whatever Jungkook has in his teacher's bag.

He wriggles back into his pants while you wonder how the hell you're going to walk to your car without underwear on.

"You ripped…my underwear," you mention, meekly. "I can't just go commando to my car…"

"Oh, shit…well if it isn't the consequences of my own actions!" Jungkook scratches his head. "Do you mind staying here while I go to the store and get some?"

"Uhm…"

"Wouldn't that be suspicious, though? Me, a grown man, going to a Walmart to buy a two-for-one women's panty set?" Jungkook asks, in all seriousness.

"Yeah, honestly…it might be," you grimace.

"Ah, it's what I get," he shrugs, zipping up his bag. "I'll be back. I'll drop you off later."

From then on, it became a nightly thing. To relieve stress, you stayed behind afterschool to fuck him mercilessly in the practiceroom.

That is, until the janitor caught you and reported you to the school.

Nowadays, you fuck in his apartment. And you're not just Ms.Y/L/N anymore. You're Mrs.Jeon.

a/n: here you gooooo

Flo Mili once said: Aww! He likes his bitches psychotic! Sit on his face and explain and explain why I'm toxic!

permatag gang gang: @kooliv , @koobsessed , @angelwonie , @carolynanderson , @hoseokgrecns , @bangsterz , @swyseren, @sxtaep , @koostarcandy , @hgema , @jjkeverlast , @armys-dna , and @nglmrk

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader smut #bts smut #jungkook stl #professor!jungkook x reader smut #professor!jungkook x reader #bts college au #jungkook college au #jungkook x reader #jungkook hot #jungkook #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #bts fic #bts au #bts fanfic #bts smut fic #bts smut fanfic #jungkook smut fanfic #jungkook smut fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook strangers to lovers

[stardragongalaxy]

Storm of Stygia

Pairing: Yunho x gn reader

WC: 1.5k

Trope/AU/genres: Fallen angel au, smut, Angst, fluff, s2l, elemental play, rough play, marking, biting, fingering, edging, corruption, 18+ MDNI

Summary: Yunho is a fallen seeking what's been lost to him, but when the source appears to be used to communicate, he finds himself craving more

Networks: @pirateeznet @cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire

Taglist: @abiaswreck @sanjoongie @kitten4sannie @kwanisms @starlitmark @twisted-tales-of-all @anyamaris @drunk-on-hwa

AN: This is a bit late, but this is for @flurrys-creativity 1004 Angel collab!! Please enjoy!! Story under the cut! Banner made by me!

Do NOT re-upload, repost, steal, or translate my works!! The characters are not the true representation and rather are face claims. Thank you!

Thunder rumbled in the distance before lightning covered the sky, striking down in multiple locations. One area near the woods, on top of an apartment complex, appeared to look like a man with lightning crossing his body into his eyes. Turning, he watched the humans leaving in vehicles except one who was waving, calling out goodnight from a balcony. 

The fallen had watched you go inside curiously, hearing the doors close for the night, raising his head to the stormy sky listening to the boom of thunder. Feeling his wings ache for being so close to his power contained inside a jeweled necklace, he growled, feeling the urge to taste what will be his once again. 

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Finally inside your room beside the dresser top, running your thumb over the large jewel between your fingers, feeling a surge of energy from it. Moving the necklace carefully this time into a wooden box on your night stand onto a silver hook in the middle, shining from the light of the lamp. However, before you could close the wooden and glass door to the jewelry case, a powerful gust opened the balcony doors making you turn quickly. Standing in the doorway, which the lamp only illuminated so much, was a man with six large ebony wings, pulsing with a faint glowing red to the veins and tips of the feathers.  

Your eyes widened, standing up slowly, not believing that this being, what you assumed was a fallen angel of sorts with the low cut black tank top with a mesh shirt on top, leather pants, a trench coat, arm guards that end where the fingerless gloves began was in the same vicinity with you. The essence of battle ready and walking sin, leaving you a little more distracted than you'd like to admit.

"Who are you?" Questioning after you felt you stared too long. Watching his line of sight, turning slightly to connect the  recent jewelry that was hanging in the box with a glare to you when you turned back when he moved to look at you instead.

" Yunho.." Moving a step closer raising his head "Naughty human, Taking what's mine and hanging it with the rest of your possessions after playing with magick. Did you really think nothing would happen?" Yunho questioned intently, answering your question with a teasing tone, tilting his head with a smirk and lightning traveling within his eyes.

You swallowed not realizing that the necklace you just hung up was connected with Yunho. "I didn't think anything of it" You whispered innocently, new to everything your friends were teaching you. 

Yunho sensing your innocence moved closer to you, cupping your chin tilting your head up to look into his eyes. "You followed them blindly? The same mistakes humans make  that could easily end your life"

"I…" You started only to have your voice caught in your throat. Yunho watched your eyes quiver, giving the indication of being hesitant and fearful. He clicked his tongue letting his hand drop from your chin looking you over once, stepping back afterwards. 

You felt vulnerable under his intense gaze like prey watching a predator before the chase. Yunho stepped closer, wrapping his hand around your arm firmly to lead you to the chair having you sit down.

"I will say this once so listen closely. Give up the necklace and if you consent, I will teach and give you a taste of what could be. What you decide afterwards will set course. Deal?"

"What if I refuse?" 

"You won't last long then" Yunho promised, which caused you to shiver with the threatening undertone when he curled his fingers. Taking a deep breath while deciding, You looked at him. 

"What does this all entail?" 

Yunho smirked, moving his hand, tilting your head with two fingers. 

"I'll give you pleasure, teach you myself on the path you take on your own, and protect you. Do you consent?" 

After a moment of silence, you made your decision. Biting your lip, you nodded and gave consent to the being in front of you.

Yunho felt relief at the consent. "Stay. It won't take but a moment"

You nodded, watching him head over and gently grab the necklace from the box, putting it on. Your eyes widened watching as Yunho's head fell back and wings spread out within the room as a large boom of thunder sounded making you cover your ears making you whimper. Still keeping your eyes on him, you watched his transformation. It didn't take long as he promised with a few things that truly made magnificent. 

Yunho turned half way, locking his now  vibrant purple eyes with yours. You looked him over, seeing black claws and his ebony wings bleed down into a vibrant fiery red with no glow in sight. You didn't even realize he moved until he was back in front of you.

One foot on the edge of the chair that you occupied, Yunho leaned forward with one hand gripping your chin to look up at him gently, caressing your cheek as you felt the static of his electrifying touch. Smirking at your expressions, he was mere inches from your face, his eyes lit ablaze at the night ahead.

Yunho leaned in close, centimeters from your face "First lesson" he whispered, taking your lips and meshing them with his to start off testing the waters. 

Responding you moved closer, returning the kiss wrapping your arms around his neck. He nipped, scratching your bottom lip enough to make them bead up blood from his fangs, but not enough to truly hurt you. Hearing your pained whine turn into a pleasured moan. His hands roaming your body taking in the beautiful shape, memorizing all of you. Yunho broke the kiss finally letting you both breath, pulling back to look at you. 

"What are your thoughts?"

"I want more, Yun please.." 

He chuckled not having to be told twice, using both hands picking you up from the chair, having you wrap your legs around him carrying you tight to the bed. Moving your legs he let you down onto the bed. His knee dropping down between your legs close to your clothed core. 

"Are you sure you want to continue?" 

He watched your eyes now with lust and uncertainty awaiting your answer on the decision. 

"Please, I want to experience more.." You whispered loud enough for him to hear. 

He hummed, raising his hand for the winds to close the balcony doors gently before he continued. "Lay back and relax. I'll go easy" 

Yunho leaves for a moment getting a towel then coming back, not making you wait long. You did as instructed letting Yunho take the lead as he moved closer. Letting you pull down the night clothes to expose your core. He moaned at how wet you already were. He carefully pulled you up, putting the towels under you and letting you down which confused you, but you went with it. 

He didn't give much warning aside from tapping on the thigh which caused you to spread your legs wider. He worked his first finger to let you get used to the feeling, pushing in and out slowly. Going on he added another finger going a little faster, moving a little at a time to find the spot. Hearing you gasp, he smirked, messing with where he hit, seeing you react. He pulled out when near climax, leaving you whining.

Yunho licked some essence off one finger and let you taste it from the other.

"The Night just started" He stated teasingly. Putting his two fingers in, adding a third this time, beginning again. Only sending you a few times gauging your reactions each time, smirking at how much he was corrupting you, enjoying every second. Yunho leans down by your ear.

"Now to give you one thing I promised" Whispering deeply, his fingers entering, adding four, but moving faster than anticipated adding light jolts of electricity for stimulation knocking the wind out of you. Finally, you arched your back, gasping then crying out Yunho's name, letting the waves of the intense orgasm overtake you, him riding you through it until you calmed down. He tilted his head, bringing his fingers into his mouth, licking off all your essence while you caught your breath. He smiled, seeing the streaks of black veins etched around his insignia on your inner thigh engraved from his own power. Proceeding to get you cleaned up afterwards watching you start falling asleep. 

Tossing the towels into the hamper, he helped you into new night clothes and put you into bed. You kept your eyes open long enough for him to put a feather on the nightstand in front of the jewelry box beside your bed and lock your bedroom and balcony doors firmly. Coming back to you, he bent down to face level. 

"Call me when you need me from the gift I left you" 

"What about the board?" You slurred from being sleepy.

"Don't mess with the board anymore. It brings many bad things" he warned, standing up and moving his clawed hand to the lamp, watching you close your eyes, being the last thing you saw before Yunho turned the lamp off for the night. 

#cultofdionysusnet #pirateeznet #ateez smut #jeong yunho smut #18+ #ateez yunho smut

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Dramione Blurb 2.5

The Time Turner

Once upon a time, there was a boy who loved a blah blah blah.

The book snapped shut and was thrown across the room, landing beside the latest copy of the Daily Prophet. On it was a moving picture, a reel that repeated over and over and over.

Draco sneered at the paper, eyeing the boy who loved the girl who didn’t look like a girl anymore. The boy didn’t always love the girl. He was intimidated by the her. She was a full of knowledge and heart that was uncanny. The boy was lucky that she had fallen for him.

She had, somehow, been blind to how much he loathed the way she saw the world. The way she was able to pick it apart and piece it all back together. She could manipulate stories and she would show the world, and the people would ooh and aah and say, of course, what a wonderful story!

And all it took was a mere glimpse from her. And she would pierce through all of the bullshit and manage to create something new and beautiful.

So why, then, hadn’t she seen through the bullshit that was the man she had chosen to marry? Why had she said yes to the boy who hated her. The boy who coveted keeping her all to himself, determined to tamper the light that was so fucking brilliant, he should have been blinded!

Draco paced the length of the parlor room. He retraced the space that had once held the girl. Had held her crying bleeding body while this boy had done nothing. Which really doesn’t make him any better than the boy who had won her heart.

But still! Draco was fraught with unreleased tension. With regrets and indecision.

Draco Malfoy was in a bad place.

Which is what might had led him to seek out that Time Turner his father had stolen once upon a time and hidden in the back of his study. Behind a spelled book case that would only reveal itself to the lord of the manor.

Which, with his father now in prison, was him.

And so, it was with little regard and a lot of Fire Whiskey, that Draco tore from the cursed parlor and down the long hallway that would inevitably lead him into his father old study.

He remembered when his father had brought it home. Draco was six years old at the time, having no idea that his life would come down something as mundane as blood. Which every single person possesses. Blood was plenty! In the Muggle world, they had types of blood like O and A and B or C. He really didn’t know what or how they labeled a persons blood. All he knew is that they used it to save lives, not determine if it allowed a person to be hunted by a dark lord or not.

Little Draco, who knew nothing of blood status and wouldn’t until he was eight years old, watched as his father presented it to him. Like a bit of show and tell his class would sometimes do on Fridays. He held it in the palm of his hand, and pivoted it back and forth.

“Look at this, Draco.” His father said, his voice eerily quiet. “This is going to bring our family luck one day. One day, we might need to use it. But until then,” His father cleared his throat and turned to the book case behind his desk. Draco watched in awe as he reached out to place it into the book case. Only it didn’t appear on a shelf. It disappeared and Draco had been amazed. How wonderful and powerful his clever father was.

The nerve of the youth and their ignorance.

But now that he was Lord of Malfoy Manor, he could see it. The glamor of the book case wilted away and in it’s place sat a different kind of shelf. It held at least two dozen little intricate items. Urns and orbs. Jewelry that looked like it had oxidized and wooden crosses. Pearls that were silver and black. Candles that Draco wasn’t entirely sure about. Probably cursed to summon a demon when lit, he thought, just before his eyes fell on the Time Turner.

It sat just between an old wooden shoe — whatever the hell that was — and a painting of an old house by the sea. It was all rather odd but it wasn’t important.

He reached out for the Time Turner.

And hesitated.

What would he actually do, if he went back in time? Would he save Granger from being tortured? If he did, would she have been able to aide Potter in his victory against Voldemort?

If not, that would be...disastrous to say the least.

He paused and looked at the door to the study. Beyond it was the hall that led back to the parlor.

Where he had thrown the book.

It was a book somebody had written about Ronald Weasley after the victory of the battle. A book that was written using interviews from him, his friends, acquaintances. They hadn’t interviewed Draco, of course. Not hat he would have agreed.

But if he could, somehow, go back in time and stop her from going back with Weasley. Stop her from agreeing to be his fucking wife! he had to try.

And so, with only a hint of apprehension, Draco put the chain over his head and rushing through the calculations in his head, he quickly did the math that would cause him to turn the dial several times. Giving him, he assumed, the opportunity to best win her over. To make her his.

Draco finished turning the hourglass and watched as days and months passed.

He felt dizzy, watching it all morph with elapsed time.

When everything settled and he found himself in the same quiet house, Draco took off. Tucking the Time Turner into his shirt, he stepped through the Floo and stepped directly into a home he didn’t belong in.

A home that belonged to the only Pureblood family who wanted nothing to do with Draco Malfoy.

#dramione #fanfic #dramione fanfic #harry potter #draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco x hermione #hermione x draco #idiots in love #dramione blurb #dramione drabble #could evolve into something more #pining draco #my writing

[cinnamon-girl-writes]

dinner dates ! jjk x reader series pt. 3/4

by @cinnamon-girl-writes

featuring: shoko, higuruma, mahito | see: part 1

ieiri shoko:

shoko is soooo lana del ray coded to me 🍒

so in my mind, she takes you to a fancy restaurant on the coastline

i know she has the salary of a school nurse but just hear me out~

she’s wearing a cream colored pantsuit with assorted gold jewelry

omg shoko is such a baaaabbbeeeee (respectfully) smash

anyways- you’re wearing a low-cut navy blue bodycon dress and your favorite jimmy choo’s that she got you for your birthday a few years ago ✨

she drives you there in her black cadillac ct5 with one hand on the wheel and the other holding a cigarette that she inhales from occasionally

when you get to the restaurant, she takes the car to the valet to have it parked and offers you an arm to lead you inside the restaurant

when you’re seated at you reserved table, after you’re served generous glasses of chilled dom perignon, you order only the finest foods: caviar, lobster, wagyu ribeye, and various other delicacies

your dessert assortment is even more lavish ✨

countless trays of pastries, cakes, fraises, and thing you can’t even name are set out in front of you; chocolate mousse cake, mini fruit tarts, serveral varieties of pudding, coconut cakes, lemon scones

all these shiny, expensive things, you think, but the only thing that matters is sitting right in front of you 💞

you pull a special surprise out of your pocket that you had been hiding excitedly all evening~ a 24 karat gold ring with the initials IS inscribed on it

you take your lover’s hand, slipping the dainty piece of jewelry onto her finger: “i love you, koko,” you explain, “thank you for sharing your life with me”

hiromi higuruma:

higuruma’s taking you to a lil steakhouse ✨

he just got off work, so he swings by your apartment to pick you up, still wearing his black suit-and-tie and white button up shirt

you’re wearing a fluttery red sundress that goes down to just about your knees with a little bow in the front 💋

his jaw absolutely drops when he sees you, his beautiful girlfriend, in that gorgeous dress !! he’s a lucky man 🥺

the drive to the restaurant is quiet, hiromi still trying to decompress from a stressful day at work

you make sure to tell him how proud of him you are, though because he works really hard 💞

the restaurant is super nice, the staff are friendly and the food is amazing!

you talk about all the things you’ve got going on in your lives right now

he tells you about the case he’s working right now, a divorce that’s fighting over custody arrangements

you tell him about your plans for the end of the year: visiting your mom in kyoto, your best friend’s birthday that was coming up, a new movie that you wanted to see in theaters

over all just very chill and domestic vibes 🥰

once you guys are done eating, he takes you back to his apartment where y’all get ready for bed (he lended you a pair of gray sweatpants and a black tshirt for you to sleep in)

you cuddle in his bed and watch grey’s anatomy until you both falling asleep, whispering sweet nothings and planting chaste kisses before you do ✨

mahito:

you can interpret this as canon mahito or human!mahito, whatever you prefer 🥰

so you and mahito are dating and are currently staying at a luxurious beach resort ✨

(i’m sorry i just couldn’t bring myself to write mahito at a restaurant because wtf 💀 there will be food in it though 🤷🏼♀️)

your villa is gorgeous, the warm summer breeze flowing through the open windows and linen curtains blowing about lazily

it’s huge, about six thousand square feet in total

but currently, you’re not inside the beach house; you’re laying by the shore, absorbing as much sun as you possibly can before you have to return to the city

your boyfriend is lying on the cot beside you, his arms folded above his head

the two of you had decided to order room service, so there were several trays of food on the little wooden table between you

there’s cebiche, orzo salad, intricately cut pieces of watermelon (you swear one looks to be in the shape of a familiar white-haired sorcerer), roasted chickpeas, and several other dishes you can’t name alongside two glasses of mai thai

you decide to try a couple options from the assortment, spooning a couple pieces into your boyfriend’s mouth that he eats reluctantly)

he does like the salad, though, claiming it has a ‘unique taste’ (you think he was just trying to make you happy by saying that)

as the sun starts to creep below the horizon, mahito rolls onto his side, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear

he leans over and plants a kiss on your cheek, then another one on your lips

as the two of you trudge tiredly back to your villa, mahito’s arm wrapped around your waist for support, he tells you how much he loves you and wishes every day could be like this 🥺💞✨

#jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #higuruma hiromi #higuruma x reader #shoko ieiri #shoko x reader #mahito #mahito jjk #mahito x reader

[dirtytransmasc]

you should be here

tw: grief, mild self harm.

ao'nung reacts to his first day home without spider

~~~

There were a lot of firsts ao’nung had feared going through without spider; the first family meal without him, the first family sleep pile without him, the first communion with the ancestors without him, the first return of the tulkun without him. He knew those would hurt, but he could prepare for those, even if only a little. 

He didn’t expect walking into the family pod to be one of those things. He didn’t expect something so seemingly trivial to rip his out his heart and spit it out in front of him. He didn’t predict himself breaking down into inconsolable tears right where he stood. 

Everything was just how it had been the day they left for battle. Spider always tieded up his bedroll after breakfast, but everything happened so quickly that he never went back. Spiders roll was still next to his own, in between him and tsireya; most kids grew out of sleeping together by their age, but spider needed so much attention, deserved it, and the siblings were not shy about giving him what he craved. There was a kelp blanket still strewn out on the floor, he had weaved it himself, it was big enough for the three of them, and it was soft with wear. 

He remembered that night. Spider had slept against his chest, they stayed up late into the night talking, so late that even tsireya, the gossiper, was telling them to shut up. Spider had been excited to train the next morning; dad was going to teach them a new spear technique, mom was going to rebraid his hair over lunch, and then diplomacy lessons from both parents over dinner. Spider had just found his place within the clan, his heart had settled, and he no longer felt like he was out of place; he no longer felt like he didn’t belong within his family’s lives. The next day was supposed to be fun, they were supposed to be together, spider was supposed to be happy, not end up dead by the next eclipse.

They went to sleep with smiles on their faces, ao’nung holding his baby brother close, one hand extending past him to hold onto his sister's arm. He found comfort in being together more than he ever had before, and he wished he knew that would be the last time the 3 of them would be together; if he had, he would have talked to spider all night, he would have held his siblings closer, he would have done something. But he didn’t know, so he kicked his sister’s leg harder than he should have when she told him to be quiet. He called spider a kiss-ass for liking diplomacy lessons, and he didn’t kiss his sibling's forehead’s like he did most nights. Things so little in the moment were now ripping through his mind like a hot blade. 

He had sunk to the floor at the doorway, barely made it a few steps in before his grief got the best of him, but now he was pulling himself along the woven floor to gather the blanket up in his arms. This was one of the first things spider made when he joined the family, it was something he made for his family, and it was one of the last things he touched before their lives were irrevocably ruined. It remained untainted by war and smoke and blood, it was the one thing he could depend on. 

Then he looked past the bedrolls, finding spider’s pack pushed up against the wall like always. He had left it in the hurry. In it, he found some pieces of unfinished jewelry (spider never liked having still hands, so he carried unfinished projects with him), a simple wooden blade (it was from his dad, he never explained its importance, but he never went without it for long), shells from the tidal pools (he had collected them with mother and tsireya), flat stones (for tossing with ao’nung and his friends), dog tags (he said they were special to sky people warriors, he had both of his mama’s and his dad’s), and one other thing that broke ao’nung’s heart. He found a waterproof case full of photos. Within them, there were photos of him and his brother, of their whole family, past and present, blood or not. But the photo with the most wear, despite it having to be only a few months old, was a photo of spider and ao’nung. He’s pretty sure kiri and tsireya had taken it; it was the boys laid out on the beach, clearly having just finished training with each other, their spears thrown in the sand behind them, and their face’s all sweaty. They were smiling, ao’nung on his back, spider draped on top of him. Tsmukan. It was the first time spider called him brother. He’d said it with the biggest smile on his face; he was proud to be his brother, had his sister’s record the moment, burned into a piece of paper so he could hold it, all the time by the looks of it. 

What he once found endearing, spider's infatuation with family, keepsakes, things of that nature, were now slowly killing his already wounded heart. He knew about all that stuff, had seen it all before. For Eywa’s sake, half of the photos with him in were ‘selfies’ or whatever spider called it. He knew about all of it, yet it hurt now, it hurt because it was all he had left of him. 

He eventually pulled himself up, clutching the pack to his chest, to sit against the wall, blanket at his side. All he could do was cry; he couldn’t move on, spider had planted so deeply within his chest, and now he felt empty and raw. It had only been a few months, but they had become inseparable, life seemed unimaginable without him. Spider was supposed to be eyktanay, leading underneath him, they were supposed to be together, to see the end of the war, lead their people back to prosper together. 

it wasn't fair. it wasn't fair. it wasn't fair. IT WASN'T FAIR.

why? why did he have to be stripped of his brother, why did spider have to have his life cut short, why did everything have to be ruined, by him and his fucking people. first he makes spiders life hell, cold and alone, then he leaves him with those monster's for months, leaves him to get sick and almost die. now this, letting spider take a bullet for his ass, the great Toruk Makto, dreamwalker turned olo'eyktan? it was such bullshit, it was fucking bullshit and it. wasn't. fucking. fair.

fuck Jake. 

he felt a sort of frenzy fill him, sending him flying across the pod to punch the nearest support beam, nearly busting his knuckles when  he did so. the pain only lasted a second before it started to dull the pain in his chest, in his eyes as salty tears soaked into his skin, his head as it began to pound with his screams. so he kept punching, till blood ran down his arm and his hand felt numb. 

and then be looked at the post at hand, and Eywa he was lucky it was made of good wood, cause if it hadn't, ao'nung might have lost it. 

spiders name was carved there, amongst his and his sisters. 

it's where they marked their heights. spider had been so eager to join in, even though he didn't have much height left to fill. he said Jake marked his other kids height back in their old hut, but never his. ao'nung had dad mark his height, would have done it himself with great pride, but he knew spider needed their dad to do it. 

suddenly the rage left, that cold emptiness returned, he traced his fingers over spiders name over and over, the carved line in the wood now soaked in his blood. he was so small. 

he fell asleep their, tracing the lines, ignoring the throbbing pain in his hand. when he woke he felt the blanket around his shoulders and felt his hands had been wrapped. he was in spiders pallet, and his mother was sitting next to him, singing spiders songchord; all the happy memories looped over and over again. he didn't open his eyes, he just wanted to stay in this little bubble of time where he could just barely convince himself his brother was a sleep next to him, their mother singing to them after a long day of training. eventually she stopped, she began talking to someone, his father maybe. 

she was talking about fish and spirits. "spider is with him, the glowfish are a sign Tonowari, they have been circling him all night." 

oh. 

he shifted lazily, wanting to keep up the act of sleep, but turned to face the cracks between the webbing, finding he was in fact being circled by a school of glowfish. 

part of him eased, part of him ached; spider was with him, but not with him. 

before he could even attempt to stifle his tears, his mama was hold him, taking him up into her arms, hushing him gently. his dad joined her, hugging them both. they didn't speak, didn't need to, they just wept in silence until they grew tired again, tsireya coming back from her turn watching spider (it was kiri's turn now, if he remembered correctly), joining their huddle. 

yet another thing that felt empty without spider. he was so small yet he filled the gaping hole in the pile. 

they slept that night, played by the reminder that spider's body was only a few pods over, but comforted by the soft glow of the schooling fish below them. spider wasn't gone, not completely, and ine day they would be able to find peace in that, but for now, they slept in one another's arms, missing their baby with every ounce of themselves. 

~~~

sorry not sorry

#ao'nung #hi'i'tsyil te fkew'weopx tonowari'itan #spider socorro #miles socorro #miles spider socorro #ronal #tonowari #tsireya #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water