#DO YOU KNOW. DO YOU KNOW THE DEPTH TO WHICH I APPRECIATE THIS

[luludeluluramblings]

Dick Grayson's Obsession with Smalltown!Reader

A/N: Why dialogue hard? Why so hard? Y'all I tried, once again. I saved Dick for last because I really really really did not want to screw up his character. I did end up adding a scene from Part Seven in here. Just to give it some pizzazz.

A/N: Part Eight is in the works, but it’s either gonna be massive or I’m going to have to divide it up. Also, people be posting so straight up fire in the Yandere Bat tags lately. Good stuff, I needed that.

Warnings: Yandere themes, physical affection.

Out of everyone, Dick was the most enthusiastic about Reader coming to Wayne manor, while also being the most melancholic. The tragedy of their arrival wasn't lost on him, despite the thrill he had over the thought of having another person to add to hi life. Already, the need and wanted to smoother them in comfort and care was there. But, the life experiences he had allowed him to realize it was probably best not to overwhelm them.

Therefore, it came out in short burst of staggering affection at times. But, only when he was visiting. (There was no denying the fact that he was extremely tempted to call them on the phone just to make sure they were settling in just fine. And, that he fought that temptation every single night.)

That didn't stop him from feeling some minor annoyance with Bruce for keeping the fact that they existed a secret. Dick had seen the affects of this life and even felt them, but to let the family nearly miss out on something so honeyed with normalcy was cruel. (It would have been preferred if they didn't have to lose their parents in order to join the rest of the family, but it was hard to think like with how busy his schedule was and soft they felt in his arms.)

Admittedly he may have latched on to them too hard in the beginning. They felt stiff the first time his arms wrapped around them. The guilt of it gurgled in his throat, which is why he cut it short and went about his business. But, he couldn't stop the urge to do so each time they crossed each other's paths in the manor halls.

And, much to his glee, they start to soften. Slowly, but surly, they start to cling to him a little longer when his arms wrap around them. They start to depend on him. For once the thought of someone so conventional depending on him as Dick rather than as Nightwing, because everyone seems to depend on him as Nightwing, doesn't fill him with anxiety. It makes his chest flutter in a different way. Not with anxious butterflies, but with a flicker of a warmth.

It's completely innocent, the way the craving starts. He has to talk himself out of rearranging his entire schedule to be around them. Especially after the kidnapping incident. But, the Rouge break out gives him plenty of work to distract himself, and more frequent chances to find them in the manor for a dose of his new source of comfort.

His feelings finally start to become clear when rather than holding him longer and tighter, they finally reach for him themselves.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

“And, how is my favorite person today?” Already Dick has his arms opened wide for you when you walk out of the kitchen. He always appears from the depths of the manor, before he wraps around you like a slow creeping vine blooming with all sorts of sentiments.

"Alfred was doing good last I saw." But, by now you've grown to appreciate the way the tendrils curl around your limbs and burrow themselves into you. A small grin forming on your face at the chance to finally have someone to talk to, even if he isn't consistent company.

"Alfred isn't my favorite person, and you know it." The banter between them enjoyable and the undertones of his words ignorable in your obliviousness. "But, seriously, how are you doing today? You look like you have something on your mind. If it is you can tell me, you know that right?" The concern pouring put of his lips, as his grip tightens.

He had seen you through the cameras and had overheard the longing phone calls. The fact that your birthday was coming up had crossed his mind, and the realization that this would be your first without your parents did register in his brain. (But, it would also be you first with them. With him.) Bringing it up to you seemed like a bad idea. But, he would still try to encourage you to spill your feelings to him.

"No, no. It's nothing I promise." Your reply was soft and dismissive. But, the dishonesty was noticeable in it still.

Dick's arms seemed to tighten around you as you spoke, as if he was trying to decode the root of your troubles from the way your heart was beating against his chest. Eventually, he does loosen his limbs around you.

As he looks down, you known and he knows you’re lying. For a moment you think he going to push. To try to choke the words out of your lungs with another tight squeeze. But, he doesn't. Instead he lets you breathe.

"Okay," is all he says.

No extra nor unnecessary words. No constant reassurance that he'll always be there for you. Just a single word and the room to breathe. Those other things have already been said. Multiple times, in fact.

It's this one instance where he lets you breath that somehow gives you lungs the air it needs to blurt out what's bothering you as he pulls away.

"I wanna go home." The words escape your lips when you finally exhale and reach for him. The words coarse. "I just really want to go home for a bit. I miss home. I miss my family. I just—“

Dick doesn't even let you get halfway before he's enveloping you again. A slight tremble in his hands as he sprouts around you once more.

This. This is what he's wanted. You coming to him with your raw feelings. And, he knows he's the first person you've said this to at all.

"How can I help you?" He asks instead of questioning the statement.

"Can you help me convince Bruce to let me go, please, Dick?” The tentative way you ask and look up at him has him caving immediately.

"Of course!" Perhaps it was a good thing you didn't grow up in Wayne manor. If Bruce hadn't spoiled you, he most definitely would have. "I'll bring it up to B as soon as he gets back."

"He's gone?" You hadn't been informed of him even leaving, but then again, you were hardly every informed about anything it seems.

"Yeah, work emergency. It wasn't a big deal, but he'll be back soon." Dick can sense the mild tone shift, but manages to shift it back to something more lighthearted. "I'll make sure to butter him up for you. I swear. Puppy-dog eyes and everything."

It works, because before he can even clutch you to his chest you already wrapped your arms around his torso and pulled yourself towards him. Just the way you hug him tells him how genuine this type of embrace is. This is how you hold people. And, now, this is how you hold him.

"Thank you, Dick. Thank you." Comes your muffled reply into his chest.

The way you nuzzle into him like that's where you belong, because that's where you do belong, and the way you say his name causes his heart to melt. And, his mind to slowly sinks into the puddle it became.

Dick could stay like this for hours, but you start to pull away after a solid minute.

"I should let you get going. I know you got a lot of stuff to do." Your words sound so hopeful and understanding as you him go. The way you look up at him like he is your hero just for this simple small thing is touching.

Inwardly, he curses. The criminals of Gotham. The criminals of Blüdhaven, the team, the family, his schedule. Everything. He curses it all for that moment, because he could be holding you to his chest longer and having you look up at him like that instead. But, he lets it pass. He manages to let it go just as you pull away.

"Yeah, I do. But, don't think I'm going to brush off helping my favorite person in the world." Plastering on a well practiced pretty smile as he speaks.

"So, that means you got somebody more important off world? I see how it is." You tease in return as you fall for the practiced charm.

"Maybe." Dick lets the banter easy his mind. In reality, even off this world, you're probably his favorite, still. It should scare him, but it doesn't. "I'll let you know how Bruce takes the request. But, I'm prepared to sneak you out of here if necessary."

"I'll get the spy music ready, just incase." Things are starting to look up, and it's nice to have someone in your corner in this massive estate.

"Mission Impossible theme?" His grin become less practiced at the thoughts of having an adventure with you.

"Nah, the Pink Panther one. Just for the shenanigans." Your own grin growing wider and wider.

"Now I want to sneak you out just for fun." And, he means it. Already mentally planning your trip back home with him escorting you. And, then you possibly coming and staying in Blüdhaven with him in his guest room. Just to get you out of the manor, of course. Clearly you need it.

He can't ignore the way his pocket keeps buzzing, though. Clearly the others are in the cave waiting for him. But, they can wait a bit longer, he thinks diving in for one last embrace.

As you wholeheartedly reciprocate, he can see one of the secret security camera out the corner of his eye and he can't stop the smug smile from forming on his face as his gives you one last squeeze in front of it.

With the way his phone stills, he can tell the rest of them saw. It's not his fault they're too scared of physical affection to actually hug you. But, it does give him a monopoly on it with you.

As he makes his way down to the Batcave there's a skip in his step and that smug smile is still on his face.

He makes sure to look at everyone's faces as he joins them. Soaking up their envy. All of that wasn't to make them jealous, but it's kind of nice to have.

"Was all that necessary, Grayson?" Damian being the first to break the silence by practically spitting the words out through his gritted teeth. Even with his perfect poster the tension coiling in his limbs is visible to the untrained eye.

"Someone's got to be the one to do it, little D. And, clearly, they needed it." Dick's tone was placating, but his smile wasn't. The way he stands in the center of the room reminiscent of an orchestra conductor.

"Don't use them as an excuse for your touch-starved tendencies, Dick." Barbara retorted, rolling in her chair towards another computer. She immediately began typing on it at a furious pace, clearly trying to distract herself.

"Low blow, Babs." He whistled in return. Everyone else seemed focused on giving him the silent treatment causing his grin to widen further. "I can't help that I'm a naturally-"

"I just texted Bruce about it." Duke suddenly says, looking up from his phone with a smug grin. He face had been blank before, but the way his eyes glanced up at Dick and the others when there heads jerk towards him showed off a hint of self-satisfaction.

"That's cheating." Childishly spills from Dick's mouth. This was suppose to be his favor to them. His. Not anyone else's.

"Bruce doesn't get text while in the Watchtower." Stephanie points out while uncurling from her seat, but the damage is done.

"Could we contact Father in the Watchtower?" Damian practically leaps from his seat and rushes to the Batcomputer where Tim sits. Alliances quickly being drawn up.

"He'd be pissed if we contacted him for something like this." Jason adds with a grin. He doesn't bother looking up from cleaning his guns, just not at all bothered by the prospect of pissing Bruce off.

"But, then message would be logged into the League data base." Comes Barbara's stern voice from her computer, her typing coming to a pause. Tim still keeps at whatever he was working on before Dick walked into the cave, but on the screen there is a flash of airline websites so it's fairly easy to conclude what his plan of persuasion is.

Cassandra watches the exchange reading the emotions through everyone's movements. Silently, she throws her bid in as well. Choosing to slide over to Stephanie and signing the making of a plan.

From there it spirals into an all out argument between each and every member of the family. Debating logistics and exchanging petty insults that seems to go on for hours. Hardly anything gets done while words are being thrown around like bullets.

In the back of his mind, Dick once again curses everyone and everything for ruining this for him. But, he reassures himself, the banter from earlier comes back to him.

It's a decent plan, he thinks. Sneaking Reader out of the manor. Convincing Bruce would be ideal, but it wouldn't be the first time he's broken the rules. And, it's for their happiness and well being. They need him. They asked him for his help. Not the other's. Not anyone else's. His. Bruce will understand.

Besides, it would be nice to see the Smalltown they grew up in. It sounds like a quaint little place. What could possibly be wrong with it?

[2blockseast]

nights like this (logan howlett x gn reader)

summary: plagued by memories of his ex-lover, logan seeks out their counterpart for comfort. author's note: hey y'all, i hope you're all doing well! i've been simmering on this one for awhile but uni has gotten in the way so it took some time to finish. i'm sorry if the ending feels abrupt... i again blame uni for stealing mental energy from me, lol. anyways, i hope you enjoy! please feel free to send requests. i appreciate you all, stay safe! writing is purposefully in all lowercase; mildly proofread. tags: worst!logan, readers gender not mentioned, human reader (both universes), angst, comfort, happy ending word count: 2,275

nights like this

it was another sleepless night for logan. he was laying on the couch in wade’s apartment, staring at the ceiling and begrudgingly focusing on the deep ache in his chest. he felt weighted down both emotionally and physically, and despite his attempts to think of something positive, his mind kept drawing him back into the depths of his own despair. 

he was replaying every horrible thing that he had ever done, the memory of his murderous rampage at the forefront. his memories were horrifyingly vivid, with his the memory of the slaughter being so strong he swore he could smell blood. he could almost feel the slick of the blood against his hands, and he remembered how he had felt the fire within him rage on at the feeling. the ache in his chest only intensified at these memories, and logan began to feel his eyes welling with tears as his mind became further crowded with guilt.

he found himself thinking of you. it was nights like this when he needed your love most. the only mildly positive thing about his ability to recall memories so vividly was that he could remember every little thing about you. he thought about how your skin had felt, how you had smelled, the perfect curve of your jaw, your unwavering kindness, and your beautiful eyes that he had loved to lose himself in. he could feel his chest beginning to ache so much it hurt, but he continued to chase his memory of you despite the discomfort. 

logan had always loved you. in his universe, you had been his sun, moon, and stars. not a moment went by that he didn’t think of you. he would follow you around like a lost puppy, doing anything he possibly could to make you feel loved and appreciated. despite his longstanding rough demeanor, you had found a way to soften him. everyone in the x-mansion loved you in your own right, but they loved your positive impact on logan more. you knew how to read his soul and you encouraged him to be kinder to himself, which, in turn, made him kinder to everyone else. you made him a better man. 

but as much as he loved you, and no matter how much he seemed to improve, he had always loved one thing more: hating himself.

when the x-men had been slaughtered, logan’s anger had surfaced in a way nobody had ever thought possible. he didn’t know what to do with all his misery, so he turned it into rage. the nation had watched his murderous rampage through their televisions, and the worldwide fear of mutants only intensified. if people didn’t feel safe before, they certainly didn’t now. 

you had tried to call him a million times when you saw the news, pleading with him to come to your apartment, begging him to come see you, assuring you everything would be okay if he came home. you knew that the brutality of the x-men’s murders had shaken him to his core and that this anger– this rage– was nothing more than a secondary emotion. you promised him that you would take care of him, that you could get through this pain together– he just had to come home to you. 

logan had seen your myriad of calls. he had read your hundreds of frantic– then loving– then desperate– then comforting– then begging texts. he had thought about calling you, but he knew he would never be able to bring himself to do it. he had sat in the woods, covered in blood, longing to crawl into your bed. he felt jagged, and he ached for your softness. but your opposing personalities were what pained him so deeply. he had committed a horrible crime, and no matter how much he wanted to believe that you meant it when you said you could make everything okay, he knew that you couldn’t. he would have to accept that he had ruined everything. 

in his heart, logan knew that you could ease some of his pain. he knew that seeing you, even for a moment, would bring him some relief. he knew you couldn’t make everything okay, but you would at least bring him some semblance of joy in the wake of his grief. but he also knew that he didn’t deserve it. logan had never thought himself deserving of you in the first place, but now he knew that he definitely wasn’t. not only did he not deserve you, but you didn’t deserve him. you didn’t deserve to be responsible for such a monster of a man.

he had messaged you: “i’m sorry, i can’t do this. i hope things work out for you. i’m sorry” before blocking your number. 

even now, all these years later, after saving the multiverse and finding himself again, he longed for you. he wished he could go back to your apartment and apologize a hundred times over. he would get down on his knees and beg for your forgiveness. he would smile like a schoolboy as he told you about all the great things he had done, how he had redeemed himself. he imagined you holding his face in your hands, gently stroking his stubble as you comforted him. he imagined you telling him that everything was okay, that you had waited for him all these years, that you still had the same books on your shelves, that your bedroom was still decorated the same and you still wore the same fragrance. 

logan was aching for your touch more than he ever had. he considered going to wade for comfort, which he quickly realized was a horrible idea. the only thing that could make him feel better was you. 

logan didn’t know how he felt about the idea that came to him then. 

he thought about wade’s version of you and how you had met when they had just returned from their multiverse-saving adventure. he remembered how his heart skipped a beat when he saw you again, as beautiful as ever. logan had been pining over you since then, but part of him felt guilty for it. he didn’t know if you had ever known earth-10005’s version of logan– the “best” logan, as some might say– but he guessed that you didn’t considering how happy you seemed. you had always been kind to logan, but he couldn’t help but feel that you were slightly disappointed that the version of the wolverine that wade brought back home wasn’t as amazing as the anchor being that had died. 

after your first few interactions, you seemed to start avoiding him. he hoped he hadn’t done something to upset you or drive you away, but wade had told him that you had always been a bit reserved, especially around new people. “just like i remember”, he found himself thinking. his version of you had been reserved before you two had started dating, and he hoped that maybe the same thing was happening now.

he knew that he wasn’t this world’s logan, and you weren’t his world’s you, but he wanted to wrap himself in your arms nonetheless. he considered going to your apartment just to see you, even if just for a second. he didn’t know if it would make him feel better or worse and he felt bad for even thinking about burdening this untainted version of you with his issues, but he couldn’t help himself. he groggily got up from the couch, throwing on sweatpants and a shirt before heading to see you.

—

unsurprisingly, you were surprised to see logan in your doorway so late at night. 

“hey, logan,” you said groggily, a bit flustered. “are you okay?”

he looked at your face in the dim light of your apartment, taking it all in.

“yeah, yeah. i’m good,” he stopped, feeling himself hesitate. he wondered if this was a total douchebag move, waking you up in the middle of the night for his own comfort. deciding he had nothing to lose but sleep, he asked, “can i come inside?”.

you stepped aside, still half-asleep. he came in, looking around as he took his shoes off. his heart warmed at the fact that everything was more-or-less decorated the same. you had the same books, the same houseplants, the same coffee table. he couldn’t stop himself from wondering if you could also have the same feelings for him, considering how similar you were to the you that he had fucked up. 

“is something wrong?” you asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“no, nothing's wrong,” he said. “i just needed to… i needed someone”.

flattered that logan had come to you for comfort, you said: “oh, well i hope i can be that someone for you”.

“you always were” he thinks to himself.

“but,” you start, looking a bit dejected. “i have to work tomorrow and i really need to sleep”.

“oh,” logan says, feeling bad that he’s stealing sleep from you. “i don’t need anything special, just being here helps”.

“oh, that makes me happy!” you reply. “how about we just rest together?”

his heart warmed at the thought. seeing the faint blush on his cheeks and feeling his excitement, you giggle and start walking to your bedroom. logan follows, feeling his heart begin to glow at the chance to be close to you. 

throwing back the covers, you settle into your bed. logan looked around your room, decorated just how he remembered. your bed was still snug in the corner of the room, the same desk by the window, the same faint smell of your favorite fragrance lingering in the air. logan felt like he was about to start crying at how happy it made him. he had been in your room a million times, and he could replay every memory you two had shared together here. even though logan had technically lived at the x-mansion, you had always referred to the apartment as as your guys’ home, as if you owned it together. logan had always loved that what was yours was also his. he noticed now that the only things missing from this room were his flannels you had “borrowed”, as well as the photos of the two of you posted on the walls. 

you yawned, patting the space beside you on the bed. 

“are you coming?” you asked.

logan looked at you, laying in your bed in your sleepwear, looking at him expectantly. he nodded, slipping into bed beside you.

you lifted your arm, inviting him to rest his head on your chest, and logan’s heart skipped a beat. you had always been kind to him, but you had never been affectionate like this. he wondered if you were being so inviting because you genuinely liked him or if you were just too tired to be closed off. either way, he nestled himself beside you, pulling up the covers.

you rested your hand on top of his head, slowly breathing in and out. he could hear your heartbeat, gentle and consistent. he closed his eyes, soaking up the purity of this moment.

“i know you need to sleep,” he said, breathing out. “but can i ask you a question?”

you giggled, chest rising. “sure, logan”

“did you ever know this world’s wolverine?”

you stopped for a moment, looking at the ceiling contemplatively. 

“no, i didn’t,” you replied. “it would have been cool, though. why do you ask?”

“just curious,” he said. he couldn’t tell if knowing that made him feel better or worse– at least you couldn’t compare him to the honorable anchor being that had passed.

“did you ever know your world’s me?” you giggled. logan could tell you meant it as a joke, you didn’t expect him to have ever known you. 

“funnily enough, i did” he replied, squeezing his eyes shut in anticipation. his heart rate increased and he hoped this wouldn’t ruin the moment– he didn’t want you thinking he was only there to pretend you were his version of you. he liked both versions of you, and he wasn’t in your bed to live in the world as he wanted it to be. he knew you were your own unique person, even if you were similar to the you he had loved.

“oh,” you said, surprised. monotone, you added: “that’s cool.” 

logan tensed again. he couldn’t tell if you had replied monotone because you were too tired to be expressive or if you were preparing yourself to kick him out.

“what was i like?” you asked, surprising him. your fingers began running through his hair and he leaned into the familiar sensation.

“you were awesome, just like you are now,” he breathed out. “you lived in this same apartment… at least when i knew you”

“why did you stop knowing me?”

logan thought for a second.

“i did some bad stuff… cut you off. i hadn’t seen you in, i don’t know, five years?”

“oh,” you said quietly. your breath hitched as you worked up the confidence to say: “i don’t know if this is weird, but… what were we?”

logan’s breath hitched. “lovers, i guess”

you hummed. “i bet we were nice”

logan let out a low, pained laugh. “we were really nice”

“y’know,” you started after a long silence, hesitating. “i think we could be nice now, too”

logan froze, surprised. “y'think?”

“yeah,” you said, smiling. “i think that with time, we could be very, very nice… if you’re up to try”

“i would love to try,”  logan smiled. “i would try with you a million times”

you hummed, content with his answer. “i think i would like that”

logan relaxed, settling into your side. he breathed a sigh of relief, reveling in the warm feeling of your affection. he drifted to sleep, the memories that plagued him replaced with the new, softer memory of getting to love you once again.

[werewolfsister]

PSA: COMIC DRAMA

I've been slowly receiving critical, entitled, and passive-aggressive messages about the way I've been writing my comic! I wanted to address this behavior.

That being said, the majority of my readers have been nothing but positive! And when they spot a problem, they're kind about it. I really appreciate this; thank you to those who choose to be civil.

I'm making this post to address some issues, complaints, and questions I've seen. Let's take a look & see what we can discuss!

READ MORE UNDER THE CUT!

🦈-> I want you to use my character in your comic, but you're not using them! Sometimes, a character doesn't quite fit my vision for the comic-- even when they're designs that I love! I really do try to use as many people's characters as possible. I think it adds to the world & makes the comic feel more full of life! But I can't accommodate everyone's desires.

🐟->You're using my character in your comic, but you're not giving them enough screen time! Similar to the above issue, sometimes I don't think focusing on a particular character for any longer will serve the story well. Ultimately, I have final say on what happens in the comic. My advice is, if you feel your character isn't appearing enough, make your own content! Draw, write, craft, etc like I mention farther down below!

🐠->You said you were going to use my diplomat/character(s), but you only drew them in 1-2 panels. Why aren't you using them more? Similar to the points above! I was never planning on going into a TON of depth with the diplomats-- the comic focus also drastically changed, as I mention below.

🐡->You're using characters in the story that I don't like! Ahh that is too bad, but! In that case, you can always take a break from the comic & come back later to check if the characters are no longer being used, or maybe stop reading the comic altogether. However! If you have concerns with how the character is portrayed because of legitimate sexual/violence/illicit/illegal issues, then that's another issue entirely and you should let me know.

🪼->I thought this story was about rescuing Kenne, but now she's not even in the comic! I don't like the way this story is going! This is a big issue some people are having and I completely understand. There's been a lot of things going on behind the scenes that I haven't explained, which must be generating a lot of confusion. Originally, @kenneduck and I were collaborating closely on this comic. Recently, the dynamic shifted, and we're now working on the comic separately. @kenneduck is now responsible for the part of the story that heavily features her characters, i.e. Princess Kenne's perspective of the rescue, her rescue effort, and what's happening in the Domain of the Luminous trench. I am now working on a different angle of the story-- the diplomatic efforts of Zora's Domain in their attempt to negotiate for Princess Kenne's return. So, the story is still the same... the focuses have just changed and split!

🦑->You reblogged my fan art and/or linked it in your comic directory-- does that make my content canon? Oooh, this is actually kind of a tough one! Normally, if something is in the comic directory, I consider it to be canon to the story. So, if you've drawn something, and I add it to my directory for a comic chapter, I'll consider it to have happened in real time. THERE'S AN EXCEPTION! And it may be confusing, so I'm genuinely sorry! If you have drawn something where you are heavily modifying someone else's character--this means cosmetic changes, giving the character children/spouses/family, killing the character, altering their personality-- WITHOUT THEIR PERMISSION, then I cannot accept that as canon. It's still fantastic that you drew/wrote/created something and I will probably put it in the MISCELLANEOUS section of the comic directory. I'VE MADE MISTAKES ON THIS! So, I've since updated the directory. And, sorry for all confusion on this issue! If you've made something & intended it to be canon, let's talk about it!

🐳->I want to collaborate with you on your comic, can I do that? That's awesome! Maybe in the future, but right now I'm not taking on any more partners. Maybe you can make your own separate additions, with your character(s) like I mention below!

🐙>I want to make fan art, can I do that? You absolutely can. Go for it. This was originally meant to be a very interactive comic, so draw/write/create away!!!

🦀->I want to draw my character(s) doing something in the world of your comic, can I do that? You absolutely can. Go for it! Like I mentioned above, however, I may or may not deem it canon to the events of the comic. But even if I don't, I'll add it to the MISCELLANEOUS section of my comic directory! ...as long as you don't alterate someone's character without permission! If you've made something & intended it to be canon, let's talk about it!

🐬->I want to make a character based on a Domain you created/idea you drew/etc., can I do that? Of course! Go for it. I love seeing what people make!

I know this is a lot of text, but it's better to be comprehensive! Please, keep in mind, I'm just one hobby artist making a comic for fun, with the spirit of interactivity and collaboration in mind. But it's impossible to keep that spirit going when people feel entitled and demand things of me that I am not obligated to give.

I queue out my pages several weeks in advance with the help of the people I'm working with, so what you see in the comic is the product of a lot of thought and work. You're getting something for free here, y'all. It ain't so serious!!!!

Anyways, thanks for reading this! And for reading the comic! Peace out ✌️

[agueforts]

AUTISM WIN THERE'S A DIMENSION 20 ANIMATIC SET TO NO HAPPY ENDING BY THE MECHANISMS

[todayisafridaynight]

Throwing in fun (not fun) facts to contribute esp bc I was tagged in the essay: (Sorry in advance this is literally my career and special interest AND I just got back from a training conference about this SO obv I am going to talk too much. Disclosure: These statistics are from peer-reviewed sources AND the National Children's Alliance. The NCA IS an American association, though, so take this all with a grain of salt bc we're applying it to someone whose bg is not American lmao. This is an essay for funsies. CW: discussion of and stats about CSA, Child Abuse) Relevant to the Jo stuff is also that victims of one/any kind of abuse are statistically much more likely to subsequently face overlapping abuse, so knowing he comes from a home where abuse and potential neglect was actively occurring sets Jo-boy up for some sad statistics. I am looking for my notes on the stats for that but it's something stupid high, I wanna say over 30 or 40%.

Additionally, 47%~ of CSA victims are revictimized. Abysmal statistic but mostly just an interesting note if this IS the case/if we choose to interpret Jo this way bc of the other things mentioned in Masu's ask, specifically if we're viewing his unhealthy and ultimately traumatic relationship with Ikumi as a potential example of that revictimization (similarly, coming from a like background, it may have been revictimizing for Ikumi if she had ever experienced something like CSA, as well. It's one of those cases where they both got hurt even if neither of them were at fault for "playing house" as Jo calls it).

Seconding/Adding on to Masu's thoughts about Jo's behavior being as self-destructive as it is because of the compounded trauma of his life, victims of adolescent abuse "engage in health-risk behaviors such as substance use, physical fighting, and risky sexual activity," in far higher numbers than non-victims. We know for facts that adolescent Jo checks at least 2 of those 3 boxes, and that he still puts himself in unnecessary danger as a full grown adult (the Heian Tower fight, and Hoshino's Office fight): An interesting and well-written cycle of trauma and abuse on RGGs part, tbh, but also so narratively telling about how he saw/sees/continues to see himself as more an object than a person. (Love your notes on that btw, it rings very true. I could write an essay on that alone tbh.)

Another weird little thing I notice from both a Doyalist AND Watsonian perspective: Jo's disclosure of his father's abuse would classify as what we call an "accidental disclosure" in the field even though it's clearly intentional that he shares it with Ichi - it's offhanded and markedly unimportant in the story he's telling. He says it passively in a literary sense, as well: "The only thing waiting for me at home was my father's fists." Like homie, that's the most roundabout way you could have said "My dad beat me." Interestingly, up to 50% of [specifically CSA] victims do not state outright that abuse occurs, but disclose it accidentally/offhandedly; and in general, accidental disclosure is more common among people who have also delayed disclosure. Up to 66% of admissions from victims of child abuse come delayed if they come at all.

I think it's a very in-character remark of him to make, but statistically, it lines up with other victims of abuse as a whole. I think it's also just cool that from the Doyalist perspective, writing his lines in this way was intentional. It's part of the whole "Everything Jo says sounds like it could mean more than one thing" thing. He speaks poetically - it's intentional not just for the character but for the writer.

Okay, I'm done for now I'm sorry I just wanted to throw some added stuff into the convo bc I love applying my everyday usage of adolescent-focused trauma care and pysch shit to blorbos and seeing what sticks. Anyway, I also have a shit ton of thoughts on Masumi Arakawa as an abuse survivor but THATS another essay I won't dig into now. If I am still in your good graces after this long ass spiel I will consider it not only amazing but perhaps even cool as hell.

[ continuity of this ask ]

[marblerose-rue]

hi! i wanted to say that ur art is super cool!

🖊 <- also!! this is a free ticket to talk about your ocs

go ham

THANK YOU!!!! <333

I ACTUALLY HAVE LIKE. so many. in my main oc universe ive got at least 60 characters (granted im counting like, parents of characters) and a few dozen warriors ocs + a few mlp ocs!! my main ocs are a special interest of mine but i have such a hard time talking abt them bc theres literally so much going on AHBKDFHJBDG /LH

BUT I CAN LEAVE U WITH THIS this is my new ponysona and i dont have a story for them quite yet buuut i may just cheat and have them be in some silly little college like i am :]

[unproduciblesmackdown]

being alive at the time i gleaned some general elements abt encanto but never actually heard we don't talk about bruno beyond awareness it existed popping off & i think i heard like the title recited off key off rhythm but in a way that indicates speak singing nonetheless lol so upon experiencing it it's like oh but it's the Verses? while the last refrain goes harder but prior to that it's comparatively underwhelming to said verses which feels appropriate like verses / pieces of a larger picture & that a "we don't talk about him" as a disappointing Lid on infinitely richer more characterful & dynamic "but: talking about him" instances. like well personally it'd be like um seven foot frame....anyway besides being able to firsthand go like oh damn Real (the kind of thing you know exists if alive at the time) it's like alright hang on lol. one thing when a core theme is yeah like "is it a refuge if 'especial' vulnerability ultimately gets pushed out rather than made safer" subset like the parties whose even observation of truths (problems) & drawing attention to them is seen as Ruining Things, like if you're painted as Making futures that aren't simply what's desired or reassuring rather than a guidance via just observing & sharing the truth. but then it's like whaddaya mean living in fear of bruno stuttering and stumbling you could always hear him sort of muttering and mumbling lmao like now that's just Association between the Truth Perceiving & Telling behavior & behavior that's just apparently distinctive of the same person. & like Not Accidentally when [what if people were magic] specifics are obviously primarily abt a metaphorical meaning & like, indeed it was made clear like oh this situation isn't Just b/c [boo we hate your prophecies] & that [an Ability that isn't directed towards what anyone Wants / is "weird" even by these magic standards] isn't Coincidentally given to someone who just so happens to already be "weird" in other ways & be set up to have a different perspective & be pushed away due to having the supposed "extra" vulnerability of unmet needs / insufficient support, same as someone who doesn't "correctly" have any kind of magic ability....like yeah banger and also like Oh Yeah Kind Of Devastating re: that metaphorical resonance allowing for like [set the metaphor aside] now hang on with this about this disabled family member lol. misinterpretation to The Ruinerrr / The Problemmm / The Maliciousss etc (i.e. the scapegoatinggg) despite their efforts likely entirely to the contrary. then despite like, efforts aside, Just Existing, always kind of muttering & mumbling like & what of it. & then like oh sorry weird pets. weird [auspicious for adaptable tenacious thriving surviving; either way simply creatures, existing] pets.

truly like As Is The Idea I'm Sure quickly becomes like hands behind back standing at the window Uh Oh Sisters musing on all the [disabled person] metaphorical & already literal elements there. blair witching it in contemplation like We've All Been There whether being so resented for the mere disruption of "existing in a group as the 'abnormal' odd one out" or like people talking shit abt anything associated w/you as soon as you've left the room, which is also made relevant like, this wasn't Only directed at this person when seemingly permanently gone, nor were they unaware / unaffected prior....pacing in the Musing parlor like things don't Have to be compared to billions but i only ever even see so many things & it's like billions sure is like "get scapegoated rword" & then said scapegoating is presented as only beneficial & we hate autists & even beyond that it's like, grabbing billions, Imagine If Things Meant To Be About Something Were About Something. quite a contrast when they are & furthermore like, deliberate thought & Care for [who gets scapegoated & why] & the truth of like, people getting pushed aside & out who have a key perspective & are primed / liable to come through for others similarly vulnerable & the supposedly Ruinous, Problems Generating disruptiveness is actually the strongest effort to make essential changes to a group. & come through with like, it'd be undermining thee point if it was "reassuring" us like oh haha people will be supportive b/c bruno will be more normal, so great that it Didn't like no, no Normality Reassurance(tm), presence of abnormalities(tm), Good, & everyone Can Deal b/c if you don't then it's pushing this person away, is exactly what happens, including even if they're still Around but are being mistreated b/c that is entirely part of that pushing away like anyone's victim blaming is ready to pounce at any time but if someone can't stand to stay / leaves b/c they can't see another option like that's not out of nowhere nor Regardless of what full support & flexibility they were getting lol. these Active Measures everyone loves so much, which are everywhere always & would include Staying & Trying To Make It Work & those efforts would be "disruptive" & resented & Bringing It On Oneself & etccc smh

that is to all say like. Woww when clearly basically the core thread was these beats of like, the crucial site of [thee scapegoated], & why that comes down on someone & how that plays out. endless ideas about how someone weird(tm) & disabled (&/or queer. but there's no Or here lol. & again like it's a Context like, to even be the one person without kids? likely not living up to "full" correct sexuality in that way alone; any oppression's logics of "inferiority" being logics of ableism, ready examples being that "inferior" race, gender, sexuality (& their experiences as people classed as inferior) all being pathologized as disordered) are seen & treated as someone Ruining Things & who cannot belong like whew. bracing. winding. which, i also recall like i was watching with headphones & during this one dialogue pause i was like "?? what's this Extra Sound i heard there" & had to go over it like twice before being hit upside the head like well it Was still the dialogue pause but it was also bruno Stuttering in a very quiet whisper for the duration of that pause before continuing like iiiiiiii x_x

[floral-hex]

okay, so lil steroid shot seemingly hasn’t done much for my breathing, but it did give me a bit of… uh… *squints at side effects* insomnia and sore butt

[pastanest]

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: you’re used to me disappearing for months but I hope by now you can trust that I’ll always come back x

warnings: reader is a victim of misogyny (aren’t we all)

In A World Of Boys

Doctor Spencer Reid. His name alone sends your heart thrumming as the elevator ascends, your shoes tapping against the metal ground with excitement and impatience in equal measure. It isn’t unusual for a case to have called the team in at the crack of dawn, but that was not something you ever imagined you’d actively look forward to. Then again, you couldn’t have counted on the sunrise casting a soft pink, almost heavenly glow to illuminate the office that seemed to converge around one man in particular the moment you saw him.

He approaches you with a warm smile, one mug held to his lips and another held in an outstretched hand, for you. Made just the way you liked it; not that you ever verbalized such details, someone’s eidetic memory just thought to pay attention to how you prepared your hot drinks until it was a task that could be taken off your hands entirely.

“Good morning.” Spencer greets you, a playful lilt in his voice at just how early this morning is.

“Morning, and cheers.” You share a light chuckle as you clink your mugs together in a gesture of soft comradery, your gazes locking as you take a simultaneous sip.

Such a thing is officially a symbol of trust, but the look in Spencer’s eyes is enough to hold you still if the ground was ripped out from beneath you. His curls are a little disheveled, as always, and his tie is as crooked as ever. Ruggedly handsome would be an accurate description, if you didn’t know Spencer better than that, know him to be so much gentler than such a roughened description. And your heart sings for him.

A tradition you’ve come to appreciate amongst the BAU during longer flights is sharing stories of their shared pasts. The tales are typically hilarious at the expense of one team member or another, but it is all in jest, and as the newest member of the team, you love hearing about their funniest moments from before you had known the people who have welcomed you so openly.

“Oh, we have to talk about the pool incident! What was her name, Spence?” JJ asks with a mischievous glint in her eye, the team’s attention pulled entirely to Spencer.

You can’t withhold the shocked expression on your face, you’ve not heard of any previous romantic encounters in Spencer’s life; this should be interesting.

“It was Lila, wasn’t it? C’mon, Spence, it’s been years, you can tell us now!” JJ presses, the rest of the team egging her on, but you stay quiet, your interest piqued to the extent that you can’t utter a word.

“Lila was an admirably strong woman, but as much as I hate to disappoint, there’s really nothing more to tell.” Spencer shrugs, smile unreadable.

In his former years, such a question would have flustered him, but not anymore. His answer is enough to fluster you, however. A man who doesn’t kiss and tell, and is so quietly firm in such a resolve, is one to keep in mind.

As if to make matters worse, Spencer then rises from his seat on the jet and strolls past you, making the effort to lean away from you - in case any sudden turbulence should unsteady him, he won’t risk even nudging you - on his journey to the galley. And the way he walks, the delicate trail of his cologne lingering in his wake when he passes your seat, it’s dizzying.

This is a moment that you know you will never forget, and you can’t help envying the fact that Spencer can so effortlessly recall every moment spent with you in the depths of eidetic memory. It’s almost ritualistic, how you lie in bed every night and replay your most treasured moments with Spencer, to send yourself to a peaceful sleep in which you hope to dream of him. Part of you wonders if he ever replays moments with you in his mind, with more clarity than you can ever hope to possess.

Little do you know, you are his favorite film.

On nights when insomnia strikes, you are the guaranteed remedy. When it is for you, Spencer’s eidetic memory is nothing short of a gift. He has a library dedicated to you, containing every look in your eyes, every micro-expression, every variation of your laugh, your smile, every word you have ever said in his presence. Sometimes, it takes him hours to decide which memory of you he’ll replay before he allows himself to sleep.

Neither of you are aware of how many nights you have spent lying awake in the same hours, focussing on the very same memories. While you absentmindedly play with the little flower charm on the necklace that Spencer bought you for your birthday, his gaze will drift to the special edition of Frankenstein that you bought him, for no reason other than it made you think of him. Of course, Spencer already had a copy, but the one from you lives on his bedside table. He had the edition completely memorized in a matter of minutes, but he has devoted more time to rereading that book than he has any other, because you gifted it to him. Sometimes, Spencer traces the spine and wonders where you’d held it before gifting it to him; if that will be as close as he ever comes to the blessing of one day holding your hand.

One of your most vivid memories with Spencer - and one that you frequently use to fall asleep with a smile on your face - first came to be during your second week working with the team. You didn’t know Spencer very well then, but you knew enough to be besotted by him; you knew that from the moment his eyes first met yours. A case required an undercover mission centered around you, as the only member of the team to fit the unsub’s type. While you could have handled the mission on your own, Spencer insisted that he be placed undercover inside the club you were set to enter, posing as a member of the public, to ensure you had immediate backup if you needed it. The undercover mission itself went without a hitch, though Spencer spent the duration of it trying his very best not to crush the glass he pretended to nurse in his hand as he watched the unsub flirt with you mercilessly, and without an ounce of respect. When the unsub was arrested and dragged out of the bar, you and Spencer followed, and he went to one of the government-issued vehicles to grab his FBI jacket for you while advising you to stand in the doorway and wait. He didn’t want you getting cold in your pretty dress, but that was a detail he kept to himself.

As you stood in the doorway, leaning against a wall with your arms crossed over your chest, the wind caught the thigh-high slit in your dress, exposing the skin of your thigh only momentarily, but it was enough for some sleazy, drunk middle-aged man to leer out you.

“Sexy lady!” He had called out to you in a slurred voice, opening his arms to you, beer bottle in hand.

And, as every woman has learnt to do, you gave him your best, tight lipped, polite smile.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” You answered as evenly as you could.

In an instant, the sleaze’s smirk was gone, replaced with an almost disgusted frown.

“Stupid slut.” He muttered, so quietly you almost didn’t hear him, but in the time it took for your eyes to widen, Spencer had pinned the man’s hands behind his back and sent the beer bottle shattering on the ground - collateral damage from shoving the sleaze into the nearest wall.

“You are under arrest for drunk and disorderly behaviour, as well as sexual harassment, and absolutely any other charge I can find when I dig up every morsel of your existence.” Spencer’s words were eerily quiet, but they were sharper than any you’d ever heard, dripping with a venom you didn’t imagine he was capable of possessing then.

After tossing the drunk misogynist into the back of one of the police cars still on the scene from your undercover mission, Spencer walked over to you and draped his FBI jacket over your shoulders, tugging it around you with a gentleness that completely juxtaposed what you had just witnessed.

“I’m sorry.” He’d said quietly, warranting a confused frown from you, that urged him to elaborate. “I’m sorry that you were treated in such an abhorrent way, and that you had to see me like that.”

Your frown melted into an adoring smile. “Spencer, you’ve got nothing to apologize for. Thank you for defending me from a man that I doubt realizes he even did anything wrong. While he might be the scum of the earth, you-” You gently poked his chest through his shirt, “-are a gentleman.”

Spencer had thought then that his heart couldn’t possibly soar higher than that, but oh, how wrong he had been.

Coincidentally, one of Spencer’s favorite memories of you is one you can recall very little of. It was the only occasion on which Spencer had politely declined the team’s invitation to a local bar for drinks in an evening. He had been rereading the copy of Frankenstein you’d bought him, comfortably nestled on his couch with a lingering smile as he sought pieces of you in between the lines of text, when his phone rang.

Seeing your name, Spencer picked up in a microsecond.

“(Y/N)? Is everything alright?” His mind was immediately reeling. Had something happened? Were you safe?

A sniffle came through the phone, and his heart shattered.

“Jus’ so lonely.” Your voice was slurred by the alcohol you’d consumed, but in the sweetest way. Your words did little to ease the anxiety swirling in Spencer’s mind, because every time he had seen you drink, you had been the giggliest mess he’d ever known; you had never been the stereotypical sad-drunk, as far as he knew.

“Lonely? Aren’t you at the bar with the team?” He questioned, because he could hear other voices in the background of the call and alarm bells were ringing. Had the rest of the team left? Or, worse, had you drunkenly wandered off somewhere and gotten lost? He was already putting his shoes on and grabbing a jacket.

“Yeah, but they’re not you.” There was an urgency and an aching sadness to your words, Spencer could hear it even through the distortion of a phone call, and your words stumped him. He blinked once, then twice, before replying.

“Well, no, they aren’t me.”

He felt that had been an obvious distinction, but perhaps you needed him to make that clear in your drunken state.

An equally dramatic and exasperated sigh came through the phone. “I know that, and that’s why I’m sad. I miss you!”

Spencer was out of his apartment door in record time, racing down the stairs until he reached the parking lot beneath his building.

“You miss me? Really?” He had asked you because he wanted to hear you say it again, he had to, the smile on his face growing exponentially.

“Lots.” Your voice broke on that one word, and it was enough for Spencer to risk several speeding tickets to reach you in a time he would never, ever tell you, because you’d lecture him about road safety. Perhaps someday he will tell you, just to hear you speak to him for a prolonged period of time, even if it’s a lecture at the expense of his reckless adoration.

By the time Spencer arrived at the bar, you were a blubbering mess in Rossi’s arms. It was only when you were transferred to Spencer’s arms that your drunk mind registered his presence, and the sheer joy on your face despite your tears was something he knew would be his only remaining memory if he lost everything else in some freak accident. Amidst your incoherent mumblings of compliments and praises towards Spencer - each and every one under lock and key in his heart ever since - he carried you back to his car and drove you home with your body wrapped almost entirely around his arm from where you sat in the passenger seat of his car. Once at your house, he carried you to the door bridal style, lowering you temporarily so that you could clumsily unlock your front door, before he picked you back up again and carried you inside, all the way to your bed. And there, he laid you down, slipped your shoes off, tucked you into bed, and wiped your face with your skincare products efficiently, from what you’d told him of your nightly routine. He fetched you a glass of water and sat you up to drink the whole thing, then refilled it and set it on your bedside table - in case you woke up thirsty in the night, or if you needed it first thing in the morning. Lying you back down, he left a little kiss on your forehead, and due to your eyes being closed, he assumed you were already falling asleep, until you reached for his hand when he tried to go.

“Stay.” You pleaded in a barely-conscious and far-from-sober tone.

Spencer smiled at you like you were the stars in the sky.

“Alright.” He almost whispered, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, while you laid under your covers, practically curled around where he sat.

With one of his hands on your shoulder, Spencer sat with you, spelling out words you’d never register on the back of your shoulder blade with his thumb and index finger.

So beautiful.

Everything.

To be yours.

And as his thumb curved the last letter “s” on the back of your hand, Spencer heard your breathing settle to a rate that told him you were dreaming. Very slowly, he tucked you under the bedcovers, stood himself up, and left, but not before leaving you with a message he intended for you to comprehend later. You had not consented to Spencer staying the night with you, and you were in no position to give that consent in your state, but you had asked him to stay, so he stayed until you wouldn’t know that he’d gone.

The next morning, you awoke to a little note on your bedside table that simply said:

Good morning, angel. Please drink some water and let me know you survived drinking enough alcohol to fill the Hoover Dam (not literally, that’s not biologically possible).

-Spencer x

It was enough to make you laugh, and despite your immediate pounding headache, you reached for your phone.

You: hahaha, very funny. thank you so much for last night, I’m sorry for the mess ❤️

And, to your accustomed surprise, Spencer started typing back immediately.

Spencer: I’m glad that you survived to enjoy my joke. You are always welcome, and you have nothing to apologize for.

You went to set your phone down on your bedside table again, when it lit up with another text.

Spencer: ❤️

Surviving the alcohol you consumed was nothing compared to the way you had to fight for your life upon receiving that.

That morning, when you were called into the office for a case, you’d expected to be greeted with an onslaught of teasing from your coworkers, but Spencer had enough time before you arrived to plead with the rest of the team not to embarrass you. Surprisingly, they had agreed, but on one condition: Spencer had to do something about his workplace crush, because the rest of the team were losing their patience with the tension between you. To save you the embarrassment, Spencer sacrificed his own dignity in agreeing to that, and it’s been hanging over his head ever since.

The clouds beneath the jet serve as an interesting background to your thoughts, your headphones blocking out any and all sound beyond your music. You are away in your own little world, save for the part of your brain that is acutely aware of your elbow touching Spencer’s with the only barrier being your jacket and his. Does he spend as much time dwelling on these things? Does he ever wonder, like you do, that this connection between you could amount to something else, something more, if either of you were willing to take the risk? The risk is, in itself, a great one. While the risks surrounding any love in general are an obvious factor, in your shared field of work, that is exacerbated. Neither of you can explicitly trust that you would be able to act professionally if the other was harmed in any way, and you could bear witness to any degree of harm against the other while in the field. If that wasn’t enough, should it not work out, you would have no choice but to leave your dream job to work and live elsewhere, uprooting the life you’ve built here in its entirety; while Spencer would stay with the family he has worked with for so many years, the building would never feel the same to him without you in it. Whoever took your desk after you, he would be unable to withhold a small amount of resentment towards - he would never act on it, but he would feel it. And the guilt of being with him having caused you to have to restart your life somewhere else? That is a weight he is terrified of carrying. So many have faced worse fates as a result of getting close to Spencer, but when it comes to you, he cannot think of any worse than that, or his chest will start to hurt.

Perhaps this case is the perfect opportunity, he wonders to himself while a female cop converses with him, barely occupying even half of Spencer’s brain as he focuses on thoughts of you.

“I think it’s great you guys have come down here to help us!” The local cop grins up at Spencer.

A case in Vegas, where he could use some time once the case is closed to show you some of his favorite places. You’d like that, he thinks.

“Thank you, we’re always happy to help when requested.” Spencer answers casually.

But from the little office you’re working in, you can see the way that local cop is ogling at Spencer, and you feel a twinge of jealousy. It was only a few minutes ago you were looking at the hazel in his eyes up close in the same way she currently is, but you like to think you’re a little less obvious than that. You are not.

“Some of these guys, you can tell they don’t know what they’re doing, but you definitely do, don’t you? I’ve heard the rest of your team calling you a genius!” The local cop babbles to Spencer, eyes like an animal in heat.

Perhaps a tour of the casino’s? But a certain card-counting ability resulting in a certain state-wide ban would make that somewhat difficult. That probably wouldn’t be a very good date. Would it be a date? Spencer wonders, before he shrugs, feeling a little awkward.

“I don’t believe intelligence can be accurately quantified given its diversity in both person and circumstance, but I appreciate your faith in the BAU, who I’d better get back to. Thanks.” With that, he steps away from the officer, thinking nothing of the conversation given that his focus had been elsewhere for the duration of it.

You, however, cannot let it go. To your detriment, you assume a seasoned profiler like Spencer can read flirtatious intent a mile off (his unreliable grasp on social cues begs to differ) and from a distance, it didn’t look to you that he outright rejected the advances of another woman (his unreliable grasp on social cues left him unaware there were even advances to reject), and that left you feeling…upset. You had thought your relationship with Spencer to be special, that he didn’t reject the warm, sweet tension between the two of you because he liked you, specifically, but if he didn’t reject the flirtations of another woman, are you just a more regular occurrence of what she offered him?

Little do you know, if Spencer heard your thoughts suggest he only merely “liked” you, he may very well go into cardiac arrest under the pressure of the weight to correct you, adamantly. There is not a string of words in his vocabulary to adequately describe what he feels for you, and to imply “like” conveys them is salt in the wound you cause in his heart for each day you’re not his.

Naturally, for the rest of the day you are accompanied by a cloud hanging over your head to consistently remind you of that very same fact - that you are not Spencer’s. It is hardly surprising you do everything in your power to avoid him, offering to assist every member of the team with whatever task they’re doing to take you out of his reach and prevent him from talking to you. Of course, you know he’ll notice, and you’ll apologize when you’ve recovered enough to not cry at the thought of him, but for tonight are destined to bury yourself in hotel bedcovers that you partially hope suffocate you into unconsciousness to save you further torment.

Most unfortunately for you, only an hour into your tears, there is a soft knock at your hotel room door. By now, you are beyond the point of being able to hide the extent to which you have already cried, so you formulate a number of excuses pertaining to allergies or hormones on your way to the door. All of those lies evaporate on opening your door to find Spencer standing there, looking down at you with pleading eyes that quite frankly make you want to launch yourself from your hotel room window.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, (Y/N), I just came by to-“ His eyes widen. “You’ve been crying.”

It’s not a question; Spencer knows you well enough to not need to doubt himself when he reads your physical tells.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Did you need something?” You brush off his concern, hoping to distract him with whatever his original reason for coming here was - it wouldn’t be the first time Spencer materialized in your presence to ask your opinion of something obscure or a social situation he was uncertain of because he felt comfortable enough to come to you about it, you just wanted to get this over with so that you could return to your crying pit.

“I- what? Don’t worry about it? You’ve been crying, of course I’ll worry about that! Extensively!” Spencer exclaims, his voice rising in pitch slightly with his distress, before he clears his throat. “I came by to check on you because your behavior today confused me, and it appears I was right to be concerned.” Seeing the apprehension on your face, Spencer is quick to amend the question he was going to ask. “If you’d prefer not to talk about it, I understand and won’t pressure you, but please don’t force yourself to suffer alone if you can help it. There’s nothing I’d rather listen to than you.”

The sincerity in Spencer’s words brings fresh tears to your eyes, and it’s physically painful to look away from him and stare at the doorframe.

“It’s nothing, Spencer, just getting in my head about things that-“ You begin, and in a moment that is completely unlike his usually overly-polite self, he interrupts you.

“Is it something I did?” He asks, his eyes widening with the same plea as before.

Spencer’s question surprises you so much that you hesitate to answer him, only for a second before your lips part again, but your delay is enough of an answer to him.

“(Y/N), please tell me I did so that I can fix this. I don’t understand- I’ve already gone over our every interaction over the past 48 hours, 30 times each, and I’m not smart enough to have been unable to determine a conclusion on my own. Please tell me.” Spencer begs, his voice hoarse with the weight of having hurt your feelings without ever intending to.

Knowing he isn’t going to forgive himself without an explanation and that he’ll see through any lie you give him now, you are left without a choice.

“That cop you spoke to today, was she flirting with you?” The words fall from your lips freely, and Spencer blinks.

Once, twice, then a third time.

“Which…female officer? In the past 8 hours I have spoken to three.” He asks so carefully, like he’s walking on glass.

You have to resist rolling your eyes, because you know Spencer isn’t being clueless on purpose, but it doesn’t ease your pain.

“Just after midday, the one who was looking up at you like you were the best thing she’d seen all day.” Now, you can’t resist rolling your eyes; an involuntary reaction that makes Spencer frown in confusion.

“The conversation consisted of her thanking us for assisting them with the case and enquiring as to whether I’m a genius- to which I said I don’t think intelligence can be accurately quantified, and that was it.” Spencer has never been more confused in his entire life. He feels there is something obvious staring him right in his face and he is mortified at being completely blind to it, but he is treading very carefully over this invisible minefield.

“She was flirting with you, Spencer, didn’t you see the way she was looking at you?” Trying to read his expression and only finding confusion is not helping.

“I wasn’t really looking at her.” Spencer answers truthfully, because his eyes had been glazed over as he thought of places he could show you while in Vegas, where posed the highest probability of a successful date, should you accept the offer he had every intention of presenting you with.

“You didn’t notice…” You murmur, your heart sinking in your chest.

You had been upset that Spencer hadn’t rejected the advances of another woman under the presumption he understood her advances, but if he truly did not when she was being so obvious, he most likely doesn’t notice yours, either. He hasn’t been reciprocating the energy you thought was between you for that reason, he’s just been continuing the conversation without a clue. A lump forms in your thought.

Meanwhile, Spencer is even more confused.

“I’m not certain I understand what the issue is. Was it the flirting? Or the fact I didn’t register it? Should I have?” He is lost and in desperate need of guidance. As soon as he knows what he’s done to upset you, he’ll beg on his knees for your forgiveness, but at this time he is still unable to determine the problem. If you had not realized he didn’t acknowledge the flirting until now, that couldn’t be the issue, but if the issue was simply that he’d been flirted with, you now knowing he wasn’t aware of it would have fixed that - so why do you look more upset? This just in: Doctor Spencer Reid loathes social cues.

“Do you notice when anyone flirts with you?” Answering his question with your own question is only sending him further into a spiral.

You are the only person he ever wishes would flirt with him, but Spencer is absolutely convinced you never would. If he answers “no” to your rephrased version of the same question you had just asked him, that appears to be the answer you are assuming to be true which is making you look sadder. He does not understand this at all.

“How do I answer that in a way that won’t upset you further…” Spencer frowns, focussing very hard on your every micro-expression, trying to use your face as a cheat sheet.

“I don’t think you can, Spencer. Thanks for coming to check on me. Goodnight.” You give him a weak smile and go to close your hotel room door, but Spencer places a palm against the door with an expression of alarm.

“Please-“ He starts, then stops himself when you meet his eyes, his tone softening. “Talk to me.”

You take a deep breath and decide to bite the bullet. What do you have to lose? Your heart’s already been hit with every weapon of mass destruction you can think of.

“I thought- I thought you knew there was- it wasn’t flirting, but there’s been something between us that I thought you knew as well as I did. Stupidly, I thought you were reciprocating it, but if you couldn’t tell that cop was flirting with you, there’s no way you knew…” Your weak smile wavers. “Like I said, just getting in my head over things. Doesn’t matter. You haven’t done anything wrong. Night-“

Once again unexpectedly, Spencer interrupts you, but this time for a very different reason.

“I need to sit down.”

It’s only then you realize how suddenly pale he’s become. Paler than you’ve ever seen him, in fact. Your eyes widen, and you grab Spencer’s forearms, guiding him into your hotel room and over to the armchair in the corner of the room, the door clicking shut behind you while Spencer stumbles with the most shell shocked look in his eyes.

“Spencer, what’s going on? Are you alright?” You ask him worriedly.

“Indeterminable.” Spencer answers in a distant voice.

“Okay, okay, uh-“ You flit from him to the sink in your hotel room to grab Spencer a glass of water, that you’re quick to bring to him. “Here.”

His eyes don’t even focus on you or the glass, but he takes it from your hand and gulps it down. Spencer makes the mistake of glancing at you mid-sip, and starts choking, resulting in you patting his back.

“Something between us…” He coughs out. “You said, something between us. What.”

Your eyebrows furrow, and your face feels hot.

“You know, mutual pining. Like in movies.” You feel very awkward having to explain that.

“Books, first.” Spencer corrects you quietly, his breathing finally steadying.

“Yeah, okay, books first.” You can’t help chuckling lightly and taking the empty glass back over to the sink, then returning to Spencer, but stopping in your tracks when you find him now standing instead of sitting in the armchair.

“A study has shown that on average it takes men 88 days to fall in love, while it takes women 134 days. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t believe every aspect of love can be reduced to facts and statistics, but in moments of self-doubt I fall back on what I know. I knew what I knew of how I felt about you on the day we met, but I waited 88 days to be certain, and then it was only logical I waited 134 days to give you the chance to develop even the vaguest pleasant feeling towards me.” He takes a breath. “It has only been 120 days; I had not yet decided how I was going to broach this topic with you, and the question remains as to whether I’ve waited long enough for you to be as certain as I am. If the answer is anything other than yes, I promise, I’ll wait as many days as it takes, even if it’s a number I can’t reach.” Spencer’s voice is that of a man swearing an oath he has no doubt he’ll live to honor in every sense, and you are certain your heart has stopped beating.

You stare at him with wide eyes, feeling like time has frozen around you, the only sounds being your breathing to fill the suffocating silence of your hotel room. A microexpression of terror flickers across Spencer’s face, and you are brought back to yourself in an instant.

“I wish you’d asked me 120 days ago.” You say breathlessly.

“I didn’t ask anything.” Yet, Spencer adds internally, his heart pounding.

“But you’re going to.” You clarify softly, and Spencer nods, so you nod back at him.

“Would…” Spencer clears his throat. “Would you allow me the honor of taking you on a date? With me? Together? Here? Or anywhere- anywhere we can realistically travel to, that is-“ As he rambles and gets ahead of himself, your expression of shock evolves into a smile, and it’s your turn to interrupt him.

“Yes. Anywhere, anytime. Yes.” You answer.

There’s a beat of silence as Spencer catches his breath.

“Now?” He dares to whisper, and you’re grinning, glancing between him, and the provisions of a TV, bed and phone that this hotel room provides.

“Would you be opposed to a first date of takeout and shitty hotel room cable?” You offer playfully.

A bashful smile curls at the corner of Spencer’s mouth as he smiles back at you.

“Anything with you.” He says, but is quick to amend his own words. “Provided it’s an entirely safe scenario, obviously.”

That makes you snicker. “Obviously.”

Spencer looks between you and the bed, nervous of how to proceed. You make the first move, taking a step towards the bed, and Spencer offers you his hand - somewhat needlessly, but if he ever misses an instant in which he can deliver a gentlemanly action upon you, he would suggest that’s the instant you shoot him dead - to assist you onto the mattress before he follows suit and sits down beside you, kicking off his shoes.

“I’m completely underdressed for our first date, sorry.” You joke, looking between your pajamas and Spencer’s suit.

“You’re beautiful.” Is all he says, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it as he gazes down at you with the most gentle smile.

You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers, and Spencer doesn’t hesitate to lift them to his lips to kiss each of your knuckles tenderly.

“Takeout?” He murmurs against your skin, and for a second you’re lost to the daze of his kisses that you wonder if he’s asking whether the act of them has taken you out (to which you’d answer with a resounding yes), but remembering the nature of your date, you nod wordlessly.

Spencer smirks against your knuckles.

“I meant, what kind of takeout?” He amends, and your face feels hot again.

“Anything at all.” Is all you can think to respond, because to be completely honest, you do not care what you eat tonight.

Spencer chuckles quietly at that, keeping his hand holding yours while his other hand reaches for the hotel room phone, to dial for reception and request their recommendations for the best local takeout places.

“What’s so funny?” You ask him, but you’re smiling regardless of not yet knowing, just seeing him laugh while his thumb caresses your knuckles.

“I was just thinking, ‘Anything at all’ is exactly what I’ve thought every time I’ve looked at you.” Spencer muses as he brings the phone to his ear.

Anything at all to make you smile again, anything at all from you, if you asked he’d anything at all for you.

And much like the last time, you don’t even realize he’s spelling out words against your skin with the caress of his thumb. This time, though, it’s just one phrase, repeated.

To be yours.

To be yours.

To be yours.

[redwinewhiteroses]

What does your fs love the most about you?

👰🤵💌

Pick an image

Choose the image you are drawn to the most

Images are numbered from left to right

‼️For entertainment purposes only‼️

Image 1

Your fs is really attracted to you sexually. It's really a strong energy almost like lust and desire. I think they love your body, sensuality and your sexual expression. They admire your physical body too much in a good way. They're really tempted by you. They might even be obsessive over you. Your fs feels intoxicated by you. I think you seduce them and they love that about you. You might know what your fs wants and you'll say it exactly the way he wants, I think he's so charmed by that. You could be a bit manipulative in getting what you want, and he is kinda turned on by that ngl. Also you might be a dom or have some control or an invisible grasp over him and he likes that. Like they can't say no to you. You or them could be a bit submissive and your fs likes that power dynamic. It seems that one has control over the other and they love that their partner is submissive or dominant over them. This could be a theme in your relationship. For some you might be into heavy makeup or roleplay or kinky stuff and they love that about you. For some of you, you might be a daredevil and pretty unconventionally attractive and they love that about you. For some of you, you guys might indulge in something together and they love sharing that experience with you, whatever it is.

Your fs loves your optimism and warm hearted nature. They think you are full of life and they feel inspired by you in so many ways. I think they love your cheerfulness and positive attitude towards life. You could be playful or goofy with them and they really enjoy that about you. You bring a lot of love and light to their life and they are truly grateful to have you as their life partner.

You could be a happy go lucky person or you might radiate a childlike joy and your fs adores you for all of those traits. They find you charming and confident.

Your fs loves your enthusiasm for life. You might have expressive eyes and they love your eyes. You make people feel valued and appreciated and that really catches your fs's eyes. You might have a lot of friends or you love building connections with people. Maybe you love celebrating people. You build community and your fs loves that. You can be a social butterfly. Your fs thinks you have a good friendship and a passionate love life. They might think they got the better end of the deal in your marriage lol. There's this energy of them seeing you as a catch. Almost like they feel a thousand times better about themselves with you by their side. You magnify their self confidence and they love that about you.

For very few of you, this relationship might have started as a fwb situation and progressed into a marriage. That's it for my dear group ones.

Image 2

They love the stability you bring into your relationship. They love how reliable you are and that actions always follow your words. They think you are reliable and they value your partnership and commitment more than anything and everything else. They feel at home with you. There's this strong sense of belonging they feel with you. They love that you bring so much joy and optimism into their life and how their life is now a thousand times better with you in it. They love how caring you are and they love the conversations you share. They love the depth of the relationship you have, they think it is so profound. They are incredibly grateful for your presence is what I'm seeing. If you are already married to this person, they absolutely love your marriage. I think they would love to have kids with you and raise them together enjoying those little cute family moments together. They basically love love love doing life with you. Living under the same roof with you is something they cannot get enough of. This is so precious 😭

They also love how nurturing and emotionally stable you are. They think you are quite mature and impressive when dealing with emotions and complex feelings. They think you are very secure in yourself and you know how to regulate your emotions really well. They feel very safe and protected in the relationship. They think you support them and they're very grateful for you. They feel understood and accepted for all that they are. They love how sensitive you are. You could be an empath or you feel things rather deeply and intensely. They love how you don't judge but rather fully accept and embrace all parts of thrm without discrimination. They love your healing presence. You might be feminine and a true romantic at heart and your fs loves that about you. They always appreciate your sweet romantic gestures.

They also love your emotional abundance. You radiate love and kindness. You embody the true essence of love. They think you are a good spouse and loving, gentle parent. They love how loyal you are and how secure your relationship is. You might be creating art or creative in general and they absolutely love that about you. You bring them a lot of peace and emotional wellbeing. Both your heart chakras are fully open in this relationship and finally you both could navigate towards spirituality together and heal and find a higher purpose in life. There is also a newness in your relationship, like it's always fresh, never stagnant, never boring and there's always more to look forward to. Your fs loves that abundant positivity and rejuvenation in your marriage together. There's overflowing love here. Really beautiful relationship 💕

One thing that is very prominent here is you could have many kids together or you or your fs could have a strong desire to have kids. Pregnancy and fertility is very abundant in this marriage. So there's a lot of good luck and high possibility if that is something you want.

Image 3

Your fs loves how warm and welcoming you are. They love how optimistic and joyful you are. They love the stability you bring into their life. They feel safe in your relationship. They are grateful for how supportive you are. They love how stable your relationship is and they think your relationship is built on a strong foundation with mutual trust and respect. They love being married to you. They love spending time with you and they love talking to you because you possess a lot of wisdom. They feel this sense of belonging with you. They feel at home with you. They feel well understood and supported by you. They might look forward to coming home after work just to see you. Also they love having kids with you. They would most definitely love to create a family with you. They love the acts of service you do to make their life easier. They are incredibly grateful for you.

Your fs loves how you stand in your own true power. Your fs feels like you can guide them and help them navigate difficulties in life. They appreciate the knowledge and wisdom you bring to the table. You might raise your kids well and you maybe a strong guiding light for them and your fs really loves that about you. You could have an answer to a lot of things and you resolve conflict easily within the relationship. You could do a lot of self reflection and your fs thinks that the stability you bring is multiplied ten times over due to your amazing personal qualities. You could be quite independent on your own. You have a good sense of self, likely from a lot of introspection. They see that, and they absolutely love that about you. They think you are a very thoughtful partner. You could go against the grain and you would definitely not fear standing on your own. I think you have a lot of power and inner wisdom. You stand true to your beliefs. You could be a bit of a loner but never lonely. You could have a passion for life and maybe you charge that power and transmute that into creative energy with alone time. Your fs loves how you have a life for yourself within your marriage. Like you could have your own passion and ambitions for things you love to do and you bravely pursue them without hesitating. You have a good balance of depending on your partner and venturing into the world on your own. Your fs loves your wisdom and sense of self and your bravery to stand true to yourself at all times.

Your fs loves how passionate you are. You might have a lot of energy. Contradictory to your self isolation tendencies, you definitely has a lot of drive and ambition for life. You could have a home based business or you might have a creative pursuit. Your fs loves your ambition and determination. You might be into fitness, high energy activities and you might have some interesting hobbies. It's never boring with you is what I'm seeing. You could be a go getter and action oriented and your fs loves how decisive you are. You are confident, spontaneous and daring, you might even challenge them in some ways and inspire them. You could also lead the relationship in some way and I think your fs appreciates that. Your fs and you could travel a lot together.

Your fs also loves how passionate you are. You could be very confident with your sexuality and you are great at expressing yourself that way. There's this fiery passion in your relationship and it's very real. You could have a lot of spicy time with your fs and they absolutely love your wild, crazy, passionate side of you.

There's a possibility of pregnancy here. You would most likely create a family with your person. If that's something you want.

In case you were attracted to group two, I suggest you read that if you feel called to do that. The energies were quite similar, not entirely but there could be messages for some of you.

Image 4

Your fs could love your femininity and your nurturing qualities regardless of gender. You could be a provider of sorts. You might have a good intuition and your fs loves that divine feminine side of you. Your fs loves how nurturing, soft and compassionate you are. Your fs also thinks you are enigmatic and alluring. You could have emotional depth and you could come across as a bit mysterious. Your fs is intrigued by you but at the same time loves that about you. You could have some specific fears or insecurities and your fs could be aware of them.

Your fs also loves that you are a bit possessive or jealous. You might have a tight grasp on your lovers or romantic relationships. Your fs loves how you are quite possessive over them.

You could be a hard worker and could be financially well off and your fs admires that about you.

You also have a tendency to give too much of yourself or too little of yourself in a relationship. I think it'll be healthy to have balance in your relationship with your fs. There could be a power dynamic of sorts and your fs kinda loves that. You might overextend yourself or give too much and your fs seems to love that regardless of that being a bit unfair. Youcould be carrying a lot of responsibilities and your fs might slack off and expect you to do them. Your plate is full in a way. You could be a risk taker and you just make things happen. Might not be for everyone, but you could be the breadwinner and your fs loves how you manage a lot of responsibilities on your own and never look to their side for support. Some of yall might be giving too little in the relationship, so your fs loves the chase. He loves the challenge and he wants to figure you out. Unravel more and more of you and your secrets. There seems to be a underlying unhealthy dynamic that plays to the benefit of your fs. Regardless your marriage with your fs could be fulfilling and passionate.

You could be highly passionate and sexual. You could be playful and adventurous. You could have a high libido and there also can be a huge emphasis on your physical relationship. There could be over indulgence in sexual activities and your fs loves that. Your fs also loves your daring and fiery nature. You could take charge in the bedroom and even in public life. Your fs could be submissive in a way and he loves the dynamic you have. For this group, your fs loves this dynamic that exists in your marriage and it's coming through strongly and not necessarily your individual qualities.

There could be a lack of balance in this relationship. It's not necessarily bad, if one particular partner enjoys being more dominant and carrying more responsibilities and the other partner is more laidback and less driven naturally and they both consensually agree that it is okay, there's no problem at all. But if overextending yourself isn't your own choice, it's better to achieve more balance in the relationship with your fs and resolve things if there are any visible or invisible problems. This was quite an interesting group.

Thanks for joining me for this reading! 💌

[wandagcre]

i got what you need | wanda maximoff 🔞

(College!Perv!Bestfriend Wanda Maximoff x Innocent!Fem Reader)

You're walking on eggshells with Wanda. She's unaffected and you're confused. It doesn't help that your encounter with your best friend unraveled new sensations for you, that it made your small break a huge challenge as you spend it with her.

WARNING: jealous!wanda, corruption kink, defiling childhood bed (r), dirty talk, degradation, almost fingering while in front of other people, perverted actions: using inanimate objects as plushie and hairbrush for sex, unconsented pictures, guilt-tripping, steve and tony as your parents bc why not | +18 men & minors dni. Words: 5.1k Notes: i'm back, kinda! i hope everyone enjoys this :3

[perv!wanda series] | [masterlist]

Your best friend, who lent a helping hand – pun intended – is coming home with you during your break. 

While you were beyond appreciative, you were nervous more than anything on how to act normal while being on the receiving end of Wanda’s affection without the flashes of the sensual touches and little adventures she took you on. It played like a crazy loop in your mind. Not only that, but it definitely shed a light on your feelings for the woman. You’re certain now that you like her more than a crush, more than as a friend.

Wanda revolved tenfold inside of your mind. Your little thoughts grew into a garden of filth, her consummate touch and moans playing like a broken loop – distinct and even agonizing.

You can’t help but worry still. Sure, Wanda has been increasingly affectionate – you didn’t even know that was possible. She barely let you go and her stares that lingered weren’t that slick even to your own observation – yet, you weren’t sure how Wanda feels about it. She never spoke about it, even after blowing the fuck out of your mind…

Little did you know, Wanda had a lovestruck fool of a grin on her way to her room, after accompanying you back to your own. You were a blushing mess, both hearts pounding as you walked through the carpeted halls, your best friend truly lived up to her words – expanding your horizon of taste when it comes to bed activities. 

It was a torture to still feel Wanda’s fingers exploring your depths, her coaxing tone clear as a day, all while she brought you to a high you’ve never had before.

Shortly after, you went back to your normal routine. Your smile was wide as ever, Wanda mirroring yours with her head against the doorframe, checking you out from top to bottom. The thump on your chest didn’t ebb when she met you for a study session.

There was enough space between the two of you, and it’s safe to say how it was unnerving and Wanda didn’t like it one bit. Why were you holding back?

The chair creaked as she moved it closer to you. 

“I can’t do this,” Wanda whispered vulnerably, slamming her book close which startled you. One moment she was busy flipping through the pages as you, who tried so hard to contain the thoughts, and suddenly you feel Wanda’s breathing by your side.

“What?” Was all you could say until you saw her head tilted and unmistakably leaned closer to you – feeling her soft lips pressed against your chapped ones, her scent washing over your senses. 

The action was so chaste that it made Wanda feel her stomach flutter. You held her waist tenderly and gave her an eskimo kiss. She smiled at the contact and the woman was wrapped up into a softness she loved about you. It slightly made Wanda feel ashamed of her dirty thoughts. 

All it took was for her to recuperate her mind and look down to your v-neck shirt that emphasized your breasts and made Wanda’s mouth water. You met her in a liplock, hers filled with an edge of roughness and wanting that churned up your resolve. She’s fast and devouring your pretty lips, that it wasn’t long before you caved in to Wanda’s frantic touches and she adored how you tried to keep up with her. Your best friend made sure you remember the traces she left you, reigniting the rush from the other night.

It honestly brought you to a point of being overwhelmed. The questions rattled you and Wanda can feel the gears turning in your head. Nothing else happened but her words struck you. 

“Don’t you dare leave in the morning.” She muttered while caressing your nape, her arm snaked around your mid waist as if you were to disappear in thin air. And so you didn’t. 

You woke up embarrassingly wet again. Was it the flashbacks? Had Wanda spilled her drink in the bed again? Or perhaps it was the so-called discharge you’ve learnt from her? You immediately fled from the scene, timidly asking Wanda for set of new clothes you could borrow.

Each day progressed badly. You remained baffled at the events even more that it led you to slowly slip away from your closeness and routine. It aggravated the woman, you can see her neat eyebrows crease every time you made up a poor excuse. Though, you were thinking that it’s Wanda; beautiful and you didn’t have an inch of worth to her standards. Whatever that relapse was, it bothered you. 

Meanwhile, Wanda was motivated to get you both out of this funk.

Though, you rushed out of your dorm that made Wanda’s beautiful emeralds become puzzled as soon as you saw her in front of your doorstep, holding a paper bag full of love – her words, not yours. You can’t help but internally coo at her effort, which made you act before you even think of it. All you did was leave a kiss on her soft cheek and left her with nothing but a cryptic reply of meeting a friend.

It was a whiplash to the two of you. You weren’t this impulsive and intimate; while a part of Wanda is appreciative, reddened with your initiative, she was unaware what was the pushing force. Especially when you have been practising unspoken boundaries for the past few days – now she has to overthink who was this friend you speak of.

Were you hanging out with someone new? The girl from the library whom you shared a table with and constantly smiled at you, maybe the one who was too touchy and friendly with you at your student org? Her mind ran for miles. Was that what you craved? A new thing that could offer much more? Wanda huffed in disagreement. She doubts that someone else can be better than her.

There Wanda was, struck, a little humiliated and crestfallen. It felt like you were teasing her. The frustration builds up her chest as the woman couldn’t do her usual moves to you as workload took both of your time. 

As much as Wanda possessed and adored her collection of erotic polaroids that contained you, nothing could beat the real thing now. Not when she successfully coaxed you to open Pandora's box – the memory of you riding her pillow to the brink of wetness and first orgasm, how she luckily had another time with you, still anew to her perverted mind.

She’ll make sure to make you pay back for this.

Around noon, you met up with your best friend. You guys were still following through your original plans for the break – your filthy rendezvous be damned. Zipped up in her black sweater, her denim jeans and chunky shoes. To your surprise, the emerald eyes were already looking at you. Your lips were caught in a twist, looking away in embarrassment.

“You’re barely covered up.” She nods over you, her tone amused.

It caught your attention. “Why? Doesn’t it look good?” You’re clueless, doing a small twirl for your best friend and self-consciousness has begun to eat you. 

“Great. Wonderful, actually.” Wanda’s rasp stoked something in you, making your eyes quickly flit in her direction only to be met with dilated pupils that raked over your figure – one you were acquainted with. “But look at the skies, it could rain.” 

You looked up at the gray clouds and shrugged. “We have your car. We’ll be fine, Wands.” 

She concedes and it falls silent. Being in her car was the closest you two have been besides the previous incident. Though it was awkward for you, Wanda looked just fine. You stole glances of her side profile every now and then as she inspected her stuff in the visor and glove compartment. A small smile escapes your lips as you see the little trinkets you gifted her proudly displayed on her dashboard and still thoughtful as ever, Wanda adjusts the car’s AC towards you. She smelled wonderful, the awareness of your Wanda-deprivation kicking in.

“Where were you?” Wanda finally asks. Your eyes narrowed in confusion. “When you, uh, kissed me on the cheek. You seemed to be in a rush.” She clarifies with an adorable blush on her face. That was new.

Your eyes fluttered rapidly, not meeting the woman’s inquisitive green eyes – a telltale sign of you hiding something.

“Um, just ran some errands.” You sheepishly reply.

Wanda merely hummed in disbelief. She leaned to your side, fastening the seatbelt for you. 

“Uh-huh. And I’m not buying that, you know?” Her honeyed voice washed over your neck so lightly, making you suck your breath in. It doesn’t help that you feel Wanda’s hand clasped and brushing over your front. “You suck at lying. What’s bothering you?”

“Let’s… let’s not talk about it right now, Wands.” How odd, Wanda thought. Still, her mission of riling you up was on the move and this motivated her even better.

Wanda bit the inside of her cheek in disappointment. You’re lucky that she loves challenges and she’s nothing but persuasive. 

She sighed, letting go of the topic for now. “Okay.” Wanda will crack it out of you.

The pitter patter of your heart only grew with Wanda's feather-like touch, the woman softly hummed along the songs in your playlist. You're graced with her perfect side profile that your eyes cannot help but flicker back and forth, from her eyelashes up to her plump red lips and the slight movement of her wetting them with her tongue. It didn't take long for your mind to get sucked in flashbacks; how they felt against yours and the expanse of your skin...

“Are you alright? You look a little flushed, dorogaya.” Wanda murmured. 

Your breath hitched and both your hands were gripping onto the seatbelt across your chest, the need to lessen your lightheadedness constantly increasing. 

“We’re visiting your home to relax, (y/n/n). Maybe I can help you to de-stress again.” The woman feigned innocence in her words. You didn’t pick it up but she knew your mind was running a mile, recalling how good her definition of ‘de-stressing’ was.

How your best friend took you carnally on her bed… twice. At least the ones you remembered.

“Like a massage?” Your voice cracked, looking unsure over Wanda.

A devious smile is painted on her face. 

“Sure, something like that.” 

After a few hours, the two of you pull up into your hometown’s driveway. There’s a newfound feeling that stirred between you two after that life changing event – albeit Wanda coming over wasn’t exactly foreign, it felt as though your relationship progressed further.

Like she wasn’t here as your best friend, but something more. That had you nervous like a hopeless teenager again, barely normal around the woman you’re crushing into.

She was greeted with shoes being left on the doorstep and saw the picture frame that she cannot help but coo at each time she sees it. You look away which only tugged at Wanda's heartstrings. She pulled you close for a side hug. You were so fucking adorable. Both of you arrived at your hometown near dinner time and the more Wanda sees the parts of your house, her excitement grows more to finally see the room you grew up in.

Amongst other things…

Your best friend naturally takes the seat beside you. It was getting harder for her to restrain herself as she saw your outfit that went along with the breeze of the night. You changed into comfortable shorts and an oversized shirt, a contrast with your mostly covered self at the dorms.

Wanda’s eyes kept fleeting over the bits of your exposed skin and the whiff of your scent and lotion that got into her senses.

She absolutely cannot control herself.

“How's university life treating you, honey?” Steve asked, turning the rotating table on your way. It brought Wanda back to reality as seeing you shift uncomfortably in your seat, for a split second you halted on taking a spoonful of the meal. You were not willing to unpack the stress that you momentarily left miles away.

Wanda senses it and bites onto the opportunity of lending a supportive touch on your arm – a comfort to you and for herself. She orbits around you at this point and one thing Wanda knows well is the feeling of handling it on your own. 

“She’s wonderful. This one is always trying her best at all times, sometimes I find her sleeping at her study table. I have to find ways for her to relax on multiple occasions.” Wanda smoothly took over with a charming smile.

Suggestiveness may not have been your strongest suit, but you learned enough from your best friend by this time enough to be nervous to the next words she was about to drop. You remember the ungodly activities that only your dorm can ever know. How uninhibited you were under Wanda’s voice and touch… the floating and inexplicable sense of relief that it gave you.

You feel your palms sweat. “No need to tell them all that, Wands,” You quickly chewed on your food, feeling slightly bothered.

“All I’m saying is I make sure (y/n) over here is in good hands. She keeps me grounded and I intend to return that gesture as well.” The grin on Wanda’s face was seeping through her tone. “She’s… quite a hard worker. Always deep once she’s locked in the learning zone.” 

While you knew what she meant – you’re thankful that your fathers only took her words with a sweet smile as they listened intently with hands clasped at the table, taking Wanda's words as a reassuring reminder that you weren’t alone.

Conversations occurred again and it somehow led to a fit of chuckling and sounds of agreement at the dining table with more stories of your other dad, Tony's raging party days – refined into an appropriate storytelling, of course with your Pa Steve around – telling you the do’s and don'ts, and Wanda’s caresses had progressed into tiptoeing across your arm, then placing her hand atop of yours. She takes it as a win when she sees your slumped shoulders become less tense.

Among all things, you haven’t noticed Wanda's eyes that raked over your legs right now. She tunes out a little. As much as she loved being in this opportunity with you, your bestfriend still craved you and you were there, unknowing. Hers for the taking. She couldn’t help but ogle at your thighs through your short jeans, exposed before her own eyes, and clearly recalling how addictive they were to caress and mark.

Hands slithered on your left thigh, a ghosting touch that was beginning to rile you up. Wanda was on a mission to grip you softly by your thigh. It made you visibly hitch your breath, making Wanda chuckle. It made you flustered, hands tense around the utensil and so was the muscle of your thighs. Your best friend notches it up, feeling her fingertips stroke on your plush inner thigh. She feels so warm over your cold skin. Dangerously near your core. You’re familiar with it now – sensing the overflowing need and desire in Wanda’s grasp over you.

You gave her a pointed look. What was the point of this? You didn’t want your parents to catch you. It was beyond exhilarating. “Wanda, what’re you up to?” You utter close, only audible for her to catch.

“Nothing.” She shrugged as though her actions weren't anything scandalous.

By gods, Wanda cannot wait to have her hands and lips all over you again.

After the weird encounter you had at the dining table with Wanda, you both changed into indoor clothes. Nothing is ever that too normal with Wanda, you suppose. God, the teasing! It was torture. You were close to combusting into a mortifying pool of distress and lust – perhaps it was Wanda’s plotting all along because of the unwipeable grin etched on her gorgeous face.

She playfully (or so you hoped) suggested taking a shower together but you became a mess at the thought alone, you were stammering and barely making eye contact in front of your best friend. Wanda seemed to take mercy and left you to gather yourself, but not without a kiss on your cheek and a light slap on your ass.

Almost like she was mocking you for the same thing you did a few days ago.

She was cuddled up to your side, mindlessly tracing your arm and the soft skin of your slightly exposed stomach. The bed was better than the one from your dorms, offering a decent space for the two of you. Even enough for some of your plushies to lay in. It was driving her to the wall, looking at your fitted shirt that emphasized the swell of your breasts nicely, and the sweatpants combo that you wore for tonight. To Wanda’s mind, it was like you paraded yourself like fresh meat for her, ready to be taken once again. Your free hand stroked her brunette hair as the movie played on the television in front of you, occasionally pulling back when your phone rang. 

You hear Wanda huff ever so lightly beside you at the divided attention she was getting. 

“Just some project stuff,” You lean your phone to Wanda’s eyesight for affirmation. The group chat came into her view.

Her eyebrows creased once again. “At this hour?” 

“Yep. Probably overthinking. More than me, which is surprising.” You humorously said to ease her protective nature and thankfully, Wanda snorted at. 

“Hmm. Don’t respond now,” Wanda whispered as she burrowed her face on the crook of your neck. “You smell so good.”

You smiled nervously. Her breath tickled against your skin. “You smell just the same. Well, you used the same products as I did…”

You were talking nonsense out of nervousness, she could tell. Thankfully, Wanda didn’t call you out. You typed away, itching to wrap the conversation and enjoy your time with your best friend. Wanda can see it from the way you responded, she was so proud that it filled her with delight. She’s happy to know that a time with her was a bigger priority.

Underneath the light interaction, there was the desire that continues to brew in the pit of Wanda’s gut. She couldn’t do anything for now. As much as she wanted to stay up, the driving tired her out. So Wanda rested her eyes for a couple of minutes, hugging your bunny plushie.

Until there was a sigh of content that stirred Wanda to wake into consciousness.

Her brain didn’t register it for a few seconds. It continued, so pitiful and mewl-like. That can’t be right. She paled in realization. When Wanda woke up, she caught your hand in the cookie jar – the arched neck and eyes screwed shut, biting your bottom lip to suppress the moans. God, Wanda raked over your exposed legs and halfway pulled down underwear, as though you were so desperate — in a rush to touch yourself.

“And you were going to invite me, when?” You turn your head too quickly at the sound, you pull your fingers back like you were burned, eyes flutter just as rapidly.

“I didn’t think–”

“Clearly you weren’t. Touching yourself like a whore that wasn’t treated properly,” She snarked back. “You could’ve asked me this – days ago – and I would gladly give it to you, dorogaya. Now tell me, what were you thinking about?”

She scooted closer to you, on her knees and Wanda’s brunette hair still messy yet beautifully cascading. Her green eyes were filled with nothing but mirth. 

“I didn’t know what to think about… it was better when you, um, led me a few weeks ago. I mindlessly just went for it,” Your center was wet, Wanda notices, but not as it was when she was deep in you a few nights ago when you were fast asleep.

“See how much you need me? That’s why you should’ve told me. Instead of roping me into a limbo with you.” Wanda settled between your legs. You audibly groaned when she took off your underwear, your legs feeling less restricted. “Maybe you need to be taught another lesson.”

She sees you visibly gulp. Your throat felt dry all of the sudden. “W-whatever you think is best for me, Wands.”

“Best for you, huh.”

She called you a whore but it didn’t phase you that much. You suppose it was the truth, no decent woman would touch themselves with their best friend innocently laying beside them. Wanda loved seeing your doe eyes. So compliant, the fear of being punished and talked down while simmering in careless yet a raunchy act reeled her in the most filthy thoughts once again. 

“Did you get your fingers nice and wet?” 

“Y-yes,”

“You sucked them good enough for me?” The thirst was unmistakable in Wanda’s saccharine tone that made you drip every second in your underwear.

She saw your inner thigh muscles become tense, as though you were grounding your mind, preparing for what was about to come. You hesitantly nod – embarrassed that even in suppression of your feelings, Wanda remained as the star of your lust and pent up desires. Maybe honesty will serve you well.

She pinned your wrists above your head. It embarrassingly made your back arch at the slight recoil due to the firmness of her grip and action. You were cruel for igniting a spark of hope, the icing of it all she got was a random kiss on the cheek. Wanda had enough of playing nice. 

“We’ll start with the game of truths before you get rewarded. Is that fair enough for a whore like you?” The term rattled you – oddly in a good way. It sent you on a submissive headspace, being degraded by a different version of Wanda was satisfying. It made your stomach do flips and your cunt pounding. “Tell me who was the friend you met up with.”

It caught you off-guard. You feel bad at the realization that Wanda was racking her mind over it.

The friend in question was no other than her own brother. You wanted clarity on Wanda’s headspace, how to woo her, how the woman was like when it comes to… relationships. Naturally, her twin Pietro came to your mind. You spoke of your conundrum but nothing more than that – you can never share whatever happened in the dorms, of course.

“It was Pietro,” Your voice cracked at the confession. “I had some questions to ask about you.”

Wanda's fingertips skimmed over your ribs, trailing lower. Your breasts were practically begging to be groped – the way it flopped perfectly as you laid down. Did you say it was about her? She muses what it could've been about. She doesn't like being excluded from it.

"You're already with the better Maximoff twin. You should have asked me instead, whatever it was. I thought I was your favorite," Your bestfriend said, hurt. She caressed your knee and the action sent tingles right up your southern part. You shivered in pleasure. “My brother always gets everything. He can’t have your attention as well.”

You didn’t Wanda to misconstrue things from here on. "I know and you are, Wands! But it was about relationships, I wanted to know if uh, you were in one from the past and what you think of them,”

It seemed to do the trick, her aura calming down at your words.

“Let me get this straight, you wanted to know if I fucked someone before and if I’m a girlfriend material, so to say?” It was shameful when she said it out loud. Like you were frenzied to know Wanda outside of her comfort, making you avoid eye contact. "Oh dorogaya. If you wanted me, you already had me from the beginning. I'm definitely your girlfriend now." 

Wanda has a devious smirk. It warmed her heart you consulted her twin and she basically had your mind hostaged. The smell of your arousal though was affecting her slowly.

She continued, “You left me high and dry. Do you think that’s fair for me, dorogaya?” Wanda raised an eyebrow, her tone condescending.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s always like that. You know I would never do you wrong, yet still…”

“I-I’m sorry,” You repeat hopelessly. “How can I make it better, Wands?”

She gave your mound a slap. Hard enough to startle you, yet your hips chased and bucked for more of Wanda’s touch.

“We can start with a few things. I wanna know if you used something else other than your fingers when you first explored masturbation.” Wanda wanted you to sit uncomfortably in your hole of shame it seems. 

Her dexterous fingers bristled with intent, sensual and motivated to turn your gears. Wanda’s finger pads skimmed on your folds, just above the surface. Albeit each stroke did not come with force, it didn't stop you from slowly spreading your legs apart further and further.

"You just can't help it, hm?" Wanda’s eyes darkened when a sheer wetness covered her fingers. “Maybe it was mister bunny over here. Have you thought about grinding your pretty cunt against this soft plushie?” You breathed rapidly at the implication, heat spreading at the tips of your ears.

Wanda held the toy by its neck, the face of the innocent bunny being rubbed at your bare skin. It descended from your mound to your cunt. When you attempted to shut your legs at the teasing, she clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, unamused as your erotic mewls of desperation bounced off the four walls. 

You felt the fur of the material, getting tainted by the sinful act. Wanda stretched your folds as she dug the toy deep as it could get, rubbing it back and forth. You closed your eyes as you reel at the foreign sensation, it tickled you – almost near as grinding over Wanda’s pillow – remembering her words; gyrating your hips, letting your weight fall completely. To simply feel. So near your clit. But it was futile with its barely cuddle size.

“No, I’ve never,” You breathlessly reply, on edge. 

A smirk fell onto her lips. “But you enjoyed that, didn’t you? I don’t think you used it either. It’s too small for someone as needy as you. You’re a big girl who wants a big reward,”

The striking difference of Wanda was moving you in ways you never thought it could. She was unnerving and demeaning, yet it was palpable with pleasure. You look over your side – the nightstand. Wanda follows your line of sight and it clicks to her what the object was.

“You used this?” Wanda humorously says, her green eyes dilating further. She held your hair brush, right at its bulbous tip and it made you feel so ashamed. “So adorable. I can definitely see you fucking yourself with this. Some good old penetration. Now, open your legs wide for me.”

You hesitantly spread them. Wanda clamped her teeth over her bottom lip, looking at the hot mess that you were. She went in slow with your pretty, wet hole intruding with the bulbous tip that you haven’t felt for a while. You felt the impatience in Wanda’s motions, pushing and pulling until all of its length was inside of you. Granted, it wasn’t much, but it stimulated you nonetheless.

Oh, it drove Wanda crazy.

“Maybe next time I’ll fuck you with a better toy,” She pushed the tip and you feel her tongue flattened, licking across your neck. A better toy? You wondered for a brief second. “A double-ended strap. A slut like you would enjoy a pleasurable length and girth, I can tell. Now say it how bad you want it,”

“I’m–I need you so bad, Wands!” You whined with bucked hips. "O-oh! Please, please. Wands..." You grasped on her nape and peered over the unrecognizable emerald eyes. 

Her pupils blown, cheeks visibly flushed, and holding you tighter by your love handles. You bucked your pelvis by instinct and it made Wanda sport a knowing smirk before latching her lips onto yours; a kiss fueled with rough need. Her thrusts with the hair brush’s tip didn’t falter. She thrived on this sight of yours.

Wanda shushed you. She roughly pulls you by the cheek, only to give you the softest kiss to the expanse of your tense jaw – slowly easing to her ministrations. Yet again, you have fallen under her spell. Was it the dark or lightness you see; that, you can’t quite figure it out. But you know that you craved Wanda just as much.

She pulled the bulbous tip away, rubbing the length across your slit. It progressed harder right on your throbbing clit.

"Please, please.” She mocks you. You squirm and feel the soft sheets rustle against you. “Be patient, dorogaya. This isn't meant to be fun for you. Can you imagine how torturous it has been for me for a month? I'm simply walking you through it, baby."

Your spine arched until your front chest met Wanda's clothed own and it naturally gravitated in return, making your bodies pressed in heat. She feels the tip of your nipples, all pebbled that she can’t resist but suck on them, giving them ample attention.

Even when Wanda slowed down her ministrations, it didn’t help with the pressure she applied over your clit. You feel her in circles and all determined, your legs spasming and arms slung around her, wanting to hold something to gravitate you through this fucking.

Wanda’s grip over you was strongly reminiscent of a leash; you’re whining like a hopeless puppy. Cheeks heating up as you squirm.

What else is there to detest? Wanda is here touching you in all the right ways. You beam at her all eager, like the woman has shown you colors you never thought ever existed. You felt the familiar release that sent your body and mind into cloud nine with Wanda slumped over your body. She kissed your forehead and during the moment of you temporarily passing out, you saw a flash of something flicker for a second.

She took pictures of your fucked out face.

You felt something that was poking your lips apart. You opened them mindlessly, soon it registered that Wanda had inserted the hair brush’s tip – she wanted you to clean it off. And so you did, putting up a best attempt to suck them off dry. You tasted sweet and salty. It felt raunchy and dirty… how her mind worked when it came to lust, you were certain that Wanda was a succubus sent to devour you and your well of innocence.

Wanda ravished you thoroughly. She took off her own clothing, deciding that she’ll have her time of pleasure later on. Who knows, maybe she’ll introduce you to tribbing. Imagining your determination of wanting to please her, grinding harder against her cunt – Oh how it excited Wanda now that you were hers.

“Next time you want something, just tell me.”

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

[celestemona]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒

and how they deal with their children and domestic life.

pairing: dad & husband! wriothesley, lyney and neuvillette x fem! reader.

cw: original characters, slightly ooc to fit the plot, domesticity, fluff. pregnant reader is mentioned to introductions but not too elaborated. not beta read.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

kazuha’s part. | part. ii

Wriothesley 

If outsiders had previously felt intimidated just by the Duke's fame, with the announcement of your pregnancy, the mere mention of his name was capable of frightening even the bravest of men. And it was no wonder since now he was often seen patrolling the corridors of the Fortress of Meropide with a frown on his eyes and his fists clenched like he was ready to go into combat — if newest prisoners had already feared the idea of meeting him before, now they did anything to never be caught on his sight.

What they didn't know, however, was that internally Wriothesley was a nervous wreck about the whole situation, and his mask of aloofness was the only one he knew to use to hide the imminent fear that was bubbling in the depths of his soul.

Luckily for him, and for the citizens of the fortress, Wriothesley had a very attentive, convincing and confident wife. It was thanks to you and your assurances that the duke was able to calm down and overcome some of his insecurities and then finally celebrate the arrival of his son.

When this happened, even the guards felt they could breathe a sigh of relief and they thanked you, the duchess, for the sudden change in their boss. You just winked in complicity.

In turn, little Cameron couldn't have come into the world at the worst possible time, which only served to rekindle and feed Wriothesley's fears. You were weak and sick, barely able to move even with all of Sigewinne's treatments. Plus, Fontaine was going through too many abrupt changes for the two of you to keep up with, which only made your recovery more difficult. Wriothesley feared losing both you and the baby, but deep down he knew that his wife was stronger than she let on and that trusting you was the only thing to do.

And fortunately for him, Wriothesley wasn’t mistaken as both you and the baby managed to overcome all the terror that was the birth.

“Please don’t scare me like that anymore. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you both.” he had told you with a trembling voice from the fear still running through his veins.

“You need to start giving me more credit, Wrio”, you respond, kissing his cheek, “Your wife is too stubborn to let herself be overcome by any illness.”

Although Wriothesley initially had doubts about fatherhood, as his own background hadn’t given him a good view of it, he was an incredible father. His gentleness and affection were immeasurable and not just you, but the entire Fortress of Meropide could notice a soft side blooming in him. This didn’t mean that he left his guard completely goes down because the duke still remained adamant about the laws and administration of the prison.

Still, it was comforting (and even funny) to see the cryo user patrolling the production zones or administrative areas with a baby that looked so much like him held in a carrier on his torso — not that they dared mention it to him, much less get closer to the new father.

Cameron was also a very calm baby, rarely getting angry about something; instead, preferring to observe his surroundings. His icy blue eyes always seemed to sparkle with curiosity and Wriothesley found this characteristic particularly fascinating.

When it came to taking care of the baby, you and your husband always took turns so that the care of the child and the Fortress of Meropide was well managed. And to tell the truth, your teamwork was very good because when Wriothesley had to take on his duties as duke, Cameron was happy with your attention, and when you were requested as interrogator, your husband spent hours locked in his office with the mini version of him sitting on his lap as he enjoys a cup of tea as well.

Like every first-time father, Wriothesley faces the negative and positive sides of fatherhood. Some nights he is awakened by his past demons and a sudden dread appears to cloud his thoughts. But as he looks at his son's growth, celebrate the success of his small achievements and admire the honorable young man that Cameron is becoming, he knows he has done a good job and there is nothing to fear.

“Well, since we have nothing to fear, then it’s time for me to announce that I’m pregnant again, right?”

Lyney

Lyney liked to think that even if you didn't meet in this life, you would meet in your next incarnation; even if you belonged to different worlds, your souls would find a way to cross time and space to find each other. It was as if a red string that only the two of you could see connected both of you, and for the magician, it was undeniable to say that destiny itself had written your story or that the stars in the sky had illuminated his path to you.

The love that he had for you was unconditional, and Lyney doubted that there was anything in the entire universe that could contradict that fact.

But, well, that was before you gave him what would be the greatest gifts of his life. His twins babies Quentin and Corinne.

Now, that everyone knew that Lyney was a loving husband was nothing new. Since the beginning of your relationship, the blonde man has always made sure to emphasize your dating then later marital status and he had never hidden his affections towards you, whether they be publicly or not. And with the announcement of your pregnancy, his pride only seemed to intensify as he always had a characteristic smile on his face when you walked together through the streets of Fontaine, showing you off like you were a rare jewel much for you enjoyment.

His affection and gentleness towards you remained the same, although this time there was a greater care that you couldn't help but appreciate. Your husband was always ready to grant your wishes and he was able to understand your feelings even before you had to verbalize them. Lyney was very good at dealing with people so it was no surprise how magnificent of a father he’d be too.

And, well, to say it exceeded your expectations would be an understatement.

You had never seen Lyney cry except for his slight watery look on your wedding day. However, that changed with the arrival of the twins who gave you the vision of the man openly crying while holding the two children in his arms, making it impossible for him not to be moved by this new phase of his life — giving you a beautiful memory to remember for all eternity.

“They look so much like you”, he said after a pause, his voice still breaking, “They are beautiful”.

And in fact the twins had inherited all your genes, allowing from Lyney only the inheritance of his violet-cat-shaped eye. To say that this upset him would be an unforgivable lie because for Lyney there was no one in the world as beautiful as the mother of his children and it made him happy that they look just like you.

That being said, Lyney is a doting dad deeply in love with his children. He quickly adapted to fatherhood even with the ups and downs that come with it — after all, he still had his duties to the House of Hearth and some of his performances required him to travel to another nation, leaving you and the twins behind, but he didn't let it get him down and became stronger through it.

Furthermore, Lyney understood very well the tiredness of motherhood and always having to be available to the children, so in the late hours of the night he was responsible for feeding, changing diapers or paying attention to the two babies.

From an early age, Quentin and Corinne already showed to have personalities as distinct as he and Lynette and it brought a smile to his face when he saw a little of himself reflected in his children. While Quentin always seemed to have a lot of energy, Corinne only demanded her father's attention if it was for her basic needs or a nap in his warm embrace.

Lyney would have no problem showing his children off in the public eye once they got older, but as long as they were defenseless kids he’d prioritize their privacy. Until that day came, he’d keep you and the twins under his wings, teaching them to take care of each other but also to learn to be independent.

As was also to be expected, magic and illusion tricks are two constants in your house and Lyney loves showing little tricks to the twins who always give him the best reactions.

Finally, Lyney is a proud dad and is happy for his children's small achievements. All his love is shown through words and actions, never failing to show every day how much he cares for them. No matter what path Quentin and Corinne decided to take, he’d be the first to support them. And even though deep down he feared that the world might erase the sparkle in their eyes, he’d always protect their innocence, no mattering the means.

Neuvillette

Just as in the beginning it was somewhat sudden for the people of Fontaine to get used to the idea and the sight of their Iudex walking through the streets of the capital at your side, it was equally shocking for them when a few years, after getting married, the image of you and your slightly rounded belly appeared on the cover of The Steambird in an exclusive interview about your career and personal life — in fact, it sales were as abundant as the water that surrounded the hydro nation, not surprising Charlotte a bit who was delighted with the audience received.

After all, if there was one thing the journalist knew very well, it was that fontaineians would always crave good gossip.

Not much was revealed to satisfy the citizens' curiosity, but it served as a trigger to make them create the most absurd theories. You didn't seem to care about them at all, though. In fact, you even fueled some rumors for your own pleasure. Neuvillette, however, didn't appreciate them as much as you did, especially when it involved his name and his supposed “lack of sensitivity”. When these comments reached him, the sunny sky was replaced by a few rain clouds.

The unknown truth was that you and Neuvillette had been planning to start a family for a long time, you just didn't know how to since the Sovereign heritage was little studied and your husband was afraid of risking your health and safety for a selfish dream. It was only after a lot of persuasion, support and even medical advice from Sigewinne that the two of you were able to announce your pregnancy and then welcome little Éveline.

To say that Neuvillette was a helicopter husband during your pregnancy would be an understatement. All his worry and attention suffocated you to the point of almost making you go crazy. Even if his care for the smallest details and his devotion to you were appreciated, it was something that annoyed you when extremes.

But then, after the ordeal of childbirth and with the baby finally sleeping in his arms, you were able to notice a new side awakening in the dragon. A passionate and serene look that only his daughter could bring him.

Neuvillette loves having the little one around and rarely left her side in the first days of her life. Fatherhood, not surprisingly, suits him very well as your husband always knows how to meet your daughter's needs before you even take action — perhaps it was experience from all those centuries caring for the Melusines or perhaps it was just his instincts providing for his offspring. Whatever it was, you couldn't be more grateful for his efforts.

Éveline showed to have your features, but she also inherited all of Neuvillette's draconic traits, including his personality you’d dare to say.

In fact, about this last topic is a detail that you learned to avoid because if your daughter cries, Neuvillette is distressed, and if both father and daughter aren’t happy Fontaine is devastated by a torrential rain.

Furthermore, Neuvillette is expected to be fiercely protective of the baby, allowing only a small and significant number of people to meet her in the first months. After all, loving is caring and he’d never forgive himself if something happened to her.

A curious fact that you’d love to share with your friends but can only record in photos would be that every night, and on his rare days off, Neuvillette would transform into his draconic form so he could snuggle up to Éveline and make her sleep — the difference in size between them completely melting you.

And even though his daughter was a little too old for that, he still loves to share these moments with her.

Overall, Neuvillette is a very attentive and affectionate father, preferring to show his love through gestures rather than words. Physical contact is a constant in your home so Éveline learned to grow up in an environment where hugs and pats on the head are everyday gestures.

Neuvillette, even if he’s busy with all his duties as chief justice of Fontaine, will never fail to be present at every stage of his daughter's life, teaching and guiding her to become a respectable, fair and noble-hearted person.

.

.

a/n: i intended to rewrite kazuha's part, delete his solo post and add it here but it'd be very troublesome because some people has read already. even though i wished to let it all together i'll let it like the way it is already. furthermore, i don't know if it's gonna turn into a series since my will to write disappears as fast as it appears. but if so, i'll only write for these four men.

please let me know if there's any mistakes ;)

[elysiansparadise]

Composite chart observations 4

🤎Moon either ruling 2nd, 4th or 7th house makes both of you constantly want each other's presence. They need to be close to each other many times, and only the presence of the other is enough to make them feel better. They may perceive the presence of the other as soothing, relaxing or very comfortable, lowering their defences and being more expressive and receptive of love and affection. There is a feeling of being at home, of being safe and of feeling mutually protected and loved. This desire to care for and support others naturally arises from them.

🤎When Mars or Pluto rules the 11th house shows a strong sense of complicity. They are the kind of duo that live exciting, fun or crazy experiences in some cases and get each other's back no matter what. There is a lot of loyalty between you and, even if you are not very verbal or communicative with your appreciation, you will know that the other person values ​​and appreciates you very much. They will not hesitate to jump to defend the other from whoever or whatever. It can be like 'I can mess with you, but nobody else can't', because this duo does it playfully and will not tolerate another person doing something, even the smallest thing to attack or hurt the other.

🤎With Mercury in water signs [Cancer, Scorpio & Pisces] or houses [4th, 8th or 12th] you may both feel that it is easier to talk about your emotions and open up to the other person. They may share things they have never done before with others and feel that they can be truly vulnerable with each other. This duo may prefer personal and in-depth conversations rather than small talk or talking about things that are very mundane for them. It will be easy for them to get lost for a long time in conversations with each other.

🤎When the Ruler of the 1st house is placed in the 8th house or vice versa, this relationship is characterised by being very strong and lasting. They can experience many intense things and stay by each other's side regardless. Both will know the dark sides of the other and that will not stop them from appreciating, loving or respecting each other. It is also very common in those couples that, although it is difficult for them to open up and trust others, they see in the other someone they can fully trust and who will always keep their secrets.

🤎Jupiter in Leo is one of the most beautiful placements to have here. Both people will mutually encourage the other to be themselves and love or even admire the other's true personality. Moments of fun, lightheartedness and genuine joy in sharing moments together. There can be playful banters and drama, both parties will keep things interesting for the other party. They will make the other feel more enthusiastic and self-confident. Furthermore, what I consider most wonderful about this placement is that they will seek to contribute positively to the other's life, doing many things to maintain their happiness or create beautiful moments especially for them. the other.

🤎Saturn or Pluto in the 3rd house make both of you feel like you can talk about many topics no matter how difficult they are. These couples, friends or colleagues do not shy away from difficult conversations and can have an easier time understanding the other's point and making them feel heard when they share their most personal experiences or opinions.

🤎When the ruler of the 7th is in the 4th or vice versa, both of you will be able to connect on a very strong emotional level. They will instinctively understand what the other needs to feel comfortable and no emotion will be hard for the other to process. This is a relationship in which both seek comfort and mutual understanding, there is a deep love between you and a tendency to pamper and spoil the other, being able to easily be the other's soft spot. They awaken the tenderness and affection of the other.

🤎The best placements for Saturn are in their domicile houses, that is 10th and 11th house. This is because both placements are great indicators of long-term planning, both see the relationship as something they want to maintain over time, in addition, something in which they will not hesitate to invest time and energy. They find value in this bond with the other person by finding them as someone suitable, someone who easily makes them feel worth trying.

🤎When the ruler of the 5th house is placed in the 2nd or 4th house, it is very likely that they will enjoy more calm, intimate and homely plans. From watching movies together, cooking at home or doing sleepovers. They will enjoy meetings in which there are only the two of them to get to know each other better, to learn more about each other. They have a deep desire and taste for intimacy with others, especially emotional, from talking about the past, their emotions or things in which they find a lot of value. They can be naturally very touchy and caring with each other.

🤎Venus either ruling 6th or 12th house can tell us that the love language of both is acts of service. Both will always try to help the other, whether it is finishing tasks or dealing with a lot of emotional and work/academic burdens. They enjoy and find pleasure knowing that they can make others feel better or more relaxed. They will seek to do small actions that make the other feel more comfortable and happy.

🤎When Venus is ruling 2nd or 10th house it means that, although they are not very verbally expressive, both prefer to show their love and affection through actions, gifts, or more tangible things. Both people will take small and practical actions that lead to improving the relationship. They will have gestures such as asking about each other's boundaries, what they like, what they value most in relationships [whether romantic or friendly] and they will always cherish each one of them. They are even likely to value the same things in a relationship, which makes for a long-lasting and strong bond.

🤎Saturn in the 8th or 12th house tells us about a couple who has individually experienced hardships and find it difficult to trust other people. However, in this relationship both can manage to open up to each other and work together to create a relationship in which they accompany the other in their most difficult moments, being a reliable pillar of great strength and reliability. There's mutual support and a desire to be caring towards the other, even if it's in a subtle way.

🤎When there is a stellium in the 9th house this couple can motivate each other and be a great teacher for each other. There is a feeling that together they grow a lot and that they have a partner at their side who fills their lives with fun and meaningful lessons or experiences. They may feel that the person is everything they ever wanted or that they somehow "manifested" the other.

🤎When Jupiter is in the 10th house, they both always push each other to go for more and achieve great things. They make each other feel capable of achieving many things, they make each other feel confident about their potential and abilities. They talk a lot about each other with other people and tend to praise them behind their backs, which greatly improves their reputation.

🤎Cancer Saturn/Saturn in the 4th house can help you create a long-lasting relationship in which you support each other. It is very likely that you will have issues opening up and showing your emotions or even talking about your emotional needs, but you can have the patience to support the other person speaking, which can be a very practical way to build trust in yourself. They do not take each other for granted, because they know how difficult it is to trust and be vulnerable.

🤎Pluto in the 8th house tells us that both can change each other's lives at great levels. You will live many moments of epiphanies and realisations, many things that you thought were usual or normal, you will soon begin to see that they are not and they can help you change a lot for the better. This placement represents the union of two people who have experienced many difficult or tense things throughout their lives, who are willing to provide strength and support to the other to face any adversity. Likewise, they can be very drawn to others without being aware of why.

<- Go back to the masterlist

[emmcfrxst]

logan howlett x reader

word count: 1.6K

warnings: smut! nasty filthy smut! afab reader who gets called a girl one (1) time because i didn’t know what nickname to use, MINORS DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED! i literally dreamt of this specific scenario last night and it was so vivid i decided to write it LMAO as always feedback is welcomed and appreciated <3

Being sent on a mission up north with Logan and as you’re scouting the area around a frozen lake after setting up in an abandoned cabin, the ice shatters underneath you, your body getting quickly engulfed by the icy water.

Logan doesn’t have to think twice before diving after you, retrieving your trembling body from the depths of the lake and bringing you back to the cabin. You’re shivering the whole time, clinging onto him; despite the fact that he also went in the water, his body naturally runs at a higher temperature, which makes him far less cold than you are— and he gently puts you down on a pile of blankets in front of the fireplace before lighting up a fire, turning to you with concern in his eyes.

“Gonna have to get these off of you, bub.” he mumbles hesitantly, gently tugging at your soaked clothing. You nod your consent, lifting your arms to allow him to take off your shirt and bra, hips lifting to aid him in sliding your pants and panties down your legs afterwards. He keeps his eyes on yours out of politeness, clearing his throat awkwardly and letting out a rough sounding “Right.” when you remind him that he should take his off, too. Once you’re both naked, he hesitates again before sitting next to you, offering his palm in invitation.

“It would… Be quicker… If we shared body heat.” he sounds just as awkward as he feels, cringing internally at himself, goosebumps spreading over his skin when you tentatively push on his torso to make him lie down, joining him right after and curling your body against his. Logan takes it as a silent permission to start rubbing up and down your arm and leg from where you’re laid on your side against him, one of your hands coming up to rest on his bare chest. He tries to ignore the way your heartbeat is pounding in his ears, focusing on getting you warm enough to avoid any injuries. The process happens in comfortable silence despite the sexual tension reigning between the two of you, your body finally relaxing when your temperature comes back up to normal. He’s still trying to be polite, only glancing down at your face, body tensing up from the feeling of your bare breasts against his ribs, laid down flat on his back. Noticing his restrained expression, you run your hand down his chest lightly, stopping at his abdomen.

“You saved my life.” your voice is soft, making him turn to meet your fond gaze, heat creeping up the back of his neck.

“It’s nothin’, bub.” he assures you hoarsely, squeezing your arm affectionately.

“You would’ve done the same for me.” you smile at his comment, shaking your head affectionately and running your hand back up his chest.

“That's beside the point.” you protest gently, moving to press the entire length of your body into his side, making his eyes flutter shut and his breath hitch.

“How can I repay you?” you ask, lips slowly trailing down his shoulder, making him tense up again.

“You don’t have to do anything, bub.” he assures, a large, roughened palm coming up to cup the side of your face to make you look at him, concern flashing in his eyes once again.

“I want to. I've wanted to for a long time.” you reply, making him inhale sharply. He looks into your eyes for any sign of hesitation, thumb caressing your cheekbone before he exhales shakily, eyebrows furrowing.

“Are you sure?” he rasps out, finally allowing his desire to show. You nod, kissing his shoulder again, looking up at him with wide, worried eyes when he grasps your chin in his hand.

“I need to hear you say it, pretty thing.” he mumbles, voice serious. You only smile, moving your head to kiss his hand, holding his gaze steadily.

“I am sure. I want you, Logan." The words make him groan low in his chest, eyes searching yours for half a moment before finally giving in and shifting your bodies so you’re laying underneath him.

“Been wanting you for so long.” he confesses, the gravelly tone in his voice making you press your thighs together. The smell of your arousal hits his nose a second later, making his eyes roll back into his head, a moan leaving his lips. He wastes no time to kiss you, groaning softly at the sheer enthusiasm with which you kiss him back, mewling into his mouth. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip, tangling with yours when you part your lips in invitation. Pulling away for air, you gasp softly, arching your back to meet his chest when he grasps one of your thighs and spreads them, sliding between them in one fluid movement. The action causes his hips to fit right against yours, hard cock pressing against the slickness of your cunt. Moaning into each other’s mouths, you start swiveling your hips, causing his cock to nudge your swollen clit. Pulling away again, you feel your walls fluttering around nothing when you notice the trail of spit connecting the two of you— one that Logan has no shame licking away from your chin once it breaks off.

“Fuck, Logan, I need you.” you whine, making his cock throb. Gripping your thigh, he spreads you open even further, nestling his cock between your folds and grinding slowly.

“Gotta prep you first bub, don’t wanna hurt you.” he sounds far away, pupils swallowing the rich brown of his irises, but even then, he still worries about you; a fact that only seems to make you wetter. Despite your arousal, you still gasp out loud when he slides two fingers inside your cunt, your eyes fluttering shut at the delicious stretch his thick fingers provide. His eyes watch you carefully for any sign of discomfort as he starts to stretch you out, your body jolting upwards to meet his when a calloused thumb circles over your clit.

“You look so fuckin’ pretty like this, bub. Gonna take such good care of you.” his voice is lower than you’ve ever heard it before— tone almost dangerous— causing goosebumps to bloom across your skin. Your orgasm is building up quickly, mewls mixing with the loud, slick sound of Logan’s fingers drilling inside of you. Without warning, your thighs tense up and you let out a soft squeal, gushing around him. You can hear his depraved moan even through the deafening beating of your heart in your ears, teary eyes moving up to meet his as he brings his hand up to his face— his palm absolutely fucking soaked. You watch as he licks a stripe up his hand, his eyes rolling back into his head at the taste of you, cock twitching hard from where it’s pressed against your thigh. He inhales deeply, stomach tensing up for a brief moment before he finally regains control of his body, dark, hungry eyes landing on your fucked up form.

“Fuuuck, could come just from that.” his words have you aching again, a desperate tear running down your cheek— one he kisses away, humming lowly. You tangle your fingers in his hair as he starts kissing down your body, heart pounding in anticipation. Getting up on your elbows, you watch as he makes his way between your legs, feeling warmth creep up your neck and down your chest when he breathes you in loudly, groaning in the back of his throat. You try to push his head away timidly but he grasps your wrist with one hand, pinning it down and away from him.

“Let me have my moment. Been dreamin’ of having you like this for fucking ever.” the lust in his voice causes butterflies to erupt in your tummy, still shy from the shamelessness of his desire. Nodding your head, you sit back on your elbows, gently kicking him in retaliation when he gives you a cocky little grin and a hoarse mumble of “That’s it, good girl.”

Your amusement is, however, cut short by Logan burying his face between your thigh and licking a stripe from your hole to your clit, moaning against your cunt at the taste. Crying out loudly, you move again to tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling in encouragement as he practically makes out with your pussy, his eyes closing in ecstasy. He switches from thrusting his tongue inside you to sucking your clit between his lips, making you whine out his name. Through the thick fog of pleasure that overcomes your body, you notice the floorboards creaking under Logan’s weight— he’s driving his hips into the blankets, trying to alleviate some of the tension in his body. The sight makes you gush a second time without warning, your fingers pulling at his hair harshly and nails digging into his scalp as you come on his tongue. The moan he gives you in response makes you clench around nothing, feeling his body tense up and his hips stutter against the blanket before he relaxes, face still shoved into the meat of your leg. Oh.

“Did you just—“ you cut yourself off suddenly, feeling a delicious twist in your gut at the thought of Logan coming untouched simply from eating you out. Your lover picks his head back up with a dazed look in his eye, beard glistening with your slick. He’s still hard.

“Yeah. But I’m not done with you yet.” the promise in his voice makes you tremble, warmth coursing through your body— the mission could wait.

[wheeboo]

01:10am | choi seungcheol

SYNOPSIS. in which your cuddly boyfriend interrupts your late night reading time. PAIRING. choi seungcheol x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. a lil suggestive, reader is smaller than cheol, lil makeout kissing sesh oops, terms of endearment, cheol is whipped, self-indulgent fr WORD COUNT. 1.1k

notes: i just have this thing for soft cuddly bed scenes w cheol :(

Seungcheol really doesn't know why that out of all other times of the day, you choose to read during the depths of the night.

But he's not at all complaining𑁋he's blessed with this grand view of you with your headphones on as you're sitting up against the frame of the bed behind, knees almost propped up to your chest, with a tiny, dim book light attached to the bridge of your book highlighting your face. Seungcheol thinks this might be one of his new favourite views of you.

He flips himself over to face your direction, opening an eye so he could quietly watch you. Seungcheol takes a moment to appreciate the cute, subtle details of your face when you're focused𑁋the way your eyelashes cast delicate shadows on your cheeks, the steady rise and fall of your chest, and the way your lips occasionally move, silently forming the words you're reading. The only sounds in the room he can hear are the rustling of you turning the page, the distant murmur of the city outside, and the faint music escaping from your headphones.

Letting out a yawn, he takes a moment to check the time on his phone, eyes widening to see how late it was. Yet when he turns back to you, he only pauses, because you seem too immersed in the book to be able to go to sleep right now, and he really doesn't want to disturb you.

"Baby?" he calls out to you softly, yet you don't hear him as expected, only furrowing up a brow at what Seungcheol could assume was you reading a peculiar scene in your book. He feels his shoulders deflate.

Instead, with a huffed breath, he can only take to sinking back within the bedsheets and hoping that you'd fall asleep after him.

But he can't fall asleep, no matter how much tossing and turning he does, since it's almost outrageous to his mind to the thought of him falling asleep without at least holding you in his arms like he always does.

Seungcheol turns himself over once more, a pout at his lips as he scoots closer towards you, yet you still don't seem to notice him. He contemplates for a moment, glancing down at your free hand at your side, and a thought crosses his mind. Slowly, he grabs your hand into his, intertwining your fingers together, and the action is just so natural and instinctive like a missing puzzle piece fitting perfectly into place.

He glances at you, noticing the slight smile that tugs at the corners of your lips as you continue reading. It isn't until he starts drawing circles on your palm and picking at your sleeve that finally grabs your attention, and you pick your head up to look at him, slipping your headphones off.

You watch the way he continues playing with your hand𑁋from drawing shapes on it, tracing the creases on your palm, to running a finger over your knuckles𑁋like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

"Cheol, what are you doing?" You ask bemusedly, attempting to pull your hand away but he just tugs it back.

"Hmm, missing you," he coos softly, adjusting your hands so that your flat palms are touching each other. The fact that the size of your hand is perfectly smaller than his is utterly adorable. "Your hand is small, you know?"

You roll your eyes, as if annoyed. "And yours is huge. We've been over this already."

"It's cute." He locks your fingers together again, tilting his head slightly to look at you. "You're cute."

You only click your tongue, biting back the smile to your face and the heat threatening up your neck as you bring your attention back to your book.

You release your hand from his. "Let me go read𑁋"

But before you can go back to reading, you feel a pair of arms wrap around and pull you into a tight embrace, knocking the book off your lap. A surprised gasp flies out of you, and in one swift motion, Seungcheol flips you both over so that he's now hovering over you. Your book is long forgotten on the floor as you stare up at him in surprise, the dim light casting a soft glow on both your faces.

Something catches in your throat as you lock eyes with him. If you listen closely, his breathing is just as unstable as your heartbeat, like he's breathless already. His dark gaze seems to hold a silent request, glancing between your eyes and your mouth. It bares a question that doesn't need words, and you answer with a small nod.

And with that, he leans down to press a kiss to your lips. It's soft, tender like always, and it doesn't take much for your body to go all limp below his as it deepens. He presses his weight against you carefully, making sure you're comfortable beneath him.

You feel the way he trails his fingers along your arm until he reaches your hand once again. With a deliberate move, he laces your fingers together before bringing your hand up to pin it gently against the pillow behind your head.

Seungcheol breaks the kiss, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

"Okay?" he asks, voice a low murmur.

You nod, even though your heart is more than ready to burst out of your chest at any given moment. "Okay."

His eyes only soften, the smile to his face widening, a couple of shy giggles escaping your mouths together and into the thick air surrounding you both. He captures your lips once again in another sweet, lingering kiss, before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

"So pretty," Seungcheol whispers against your skin, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. He starts peppering feather-light kisses along your jawline, his hand gentle on your waist as he revels in the simple joy of holding you close. You lightly run your fingers through his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingertips.

"Why are you being so... so touchy right now?" You tease impishly, sighing contentedly at his touch, feeling the soft vibrations of his laughter against your cheek.

"I dunno," he admits simply, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "You were reading too much."

"I was only reading for, like, an hour. That's not that long."

"An hour too long," he counters sulkily, pressing a soft peck to the tip of your nose. "I can't fall asleep without you."

You let out a playful scoff, running your fingertips up the exposed skin of his back ridden up from the black hoodie he wore. "You're such a big baby, Cheol."

Seungcheol leans down so his mouth is just a breath away, and before you could register it, he's rolling over once again so that you're on top of him this time, his hands coming to rest firmly at your hips. There's a smirk to his face that you can hardly see, yet you already know what he's thinking.

"Only for you."

"For... me?"

"Just for you," he murmurs against your lips. "I'm all yours."

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag

[blissfullsvn]

between the lines pt. 2

pairing. academic rival!taesan x reader genre. fluff word count. 2.5k warnings. reader is allergic to coffee & shorter than taesan a/n. read pt. 1 before this! but once again, the academic rivals are not academic rivaling here bcs they’re busy being (ironically) stupid 👎 anw, long-awaited pt. 2 is out! feedbacks are vv appreciated <3 pt. 1 | masterlist

taesan is kind of regretting his decision.

when you had reluctantly stood up and rested your weight over him, he was nothing but nervous. it was the first time you had ever been this close to him, your body directly pressing against his, and it took everything in him to not break into a bundle of nerves. or at least, not enough for it to be visible—he would rather redo that hellish test he took last week than make you see him like this.

his determination had proven to be difficult—extremely difficult—when he felt your cheek land on the curve between his neck and shoulder, the warmth of your breaths tickling his skin. he hoped you couldn’t see the goosebumps on his skin, or the way the hair on his nape stood.

that had been the only movement from you since he hoisted you up, and he was already walking out of the building, which took a considerable amount of time from the student council office. judging from how quiet you had been all throughout, he expected silence to blanket him all the way to your dorm as he assumed that you had fallen asleep again.

that was when his words had bounced back to slap him across the face.

the weight on his shoulder lifted, and he felt your gaze from behind him. “han taesan,” you called, breaking the quietness of the street.

“hmm?” he responded gently, and lifted you up to adjust your position.

you had allowed another beat to pass before you opened your mouth, and that was when the dam shattered.

taesan immediately slows down his steps in surprise, and he merely blinks at what he’s hearing. every single word you utter out only makes him more baffled, because what you’re saying should never be said aloud, especially in public. even now, you’re still throwing out the most creative expletives he could’ve gone his entire life without knowing, not to mention the concern you’re starting to instill in him over his own life.

but despite all of this, he can’t take you seriously when your cold has made your voice so nasal that all he can think about is how adorable you sound, on top of the fact that you’ve dropped your head to his shoulder again in the midst of your life-threatening remarks. your cheek is squished against his jacket, making your words come out in a mumble, and he can’t help but be absolutely endeared. even when you’re cursing at him like your rent’s due.

so, yes, he’s aware that maybe what you’re saying isn’t something which warrants a reaction like his, but how can he help himself when you’re even cuter in this state?

hence, even though you’ve cursed him out a total of 81 times within the past five minutes, he’s not offended. if anything, he’s amused, though he is seriously considering the depth of your feelings towards him.

“did you eat the wrong medicine?” you mumble slowly, eyebrows furrowed in genuine concern. “possessed by another entity?” you sniffle. “or shoved a pipe down your throat?—wait,” you pause, sniffling again. “that’s what i want to do... to you… but i’d be concerned if you did it to yourself….” you trail off, as if thinking about the possibility. “i digress. are you insane?”

taesan can’t hide the amusement that escapes in a form of a poorly-hidden chuckle.

“are you laughing?” your tone is accusing. “there’s seriously something wrong with you,” you say, and he spends another few minutes getting told off for everything he’s done wrong to you in your book. he remains silent the entire time, as he has been since you began talking, until he hears something that makes him feel indicted for the first time.

“...and that one time,” you sniffle, “you gave me a cup of coffee back in our first semester… you were trying to murder me, weren’t you?” you huff, but ironically, you’re tightening your arms around his shoulders.

“i genuinely didn’t know you were allergic!” he lets out almost petulantly, feeling incriminated. “if i had known, i would’ve never done that….” he trails off, then adds quietly, “there’s no way i would.”

you raise your head, looking at the empty roads beside the sidewalk as you ponder for a bit before your cheek falls back on his shoulder. “i’ll admit that was a bit of a reach. i won’t apologise though,” you say, and he can only let out an incredulous snicker. 

“and i suppose,” you add, “if you had such sinister intentions behind your pretty face, i would’ve been dead by now.”

taesan widens his eyes, slows his steps. the tips of his ears are hot, but he plays it off when he asks teasingly, “you think i’m pretty?”

“of course. i’m not blind,” is your immediate response. you say it so candidly that it catches him off guard, and his plan to fluster you instantly backfires on him. he’s just glad you can’t see his face, because he’s sure he resembles the red light ahead the empty roads.

“oh my god, han taesan.” you suddenly raise your head, looking down at him in disbelief. he panics at your reaction, ready to spew out excuses about why he’s full-on blushing, when he hears what you say next.

“did you offer to carry me home to distract me? to make me think about this moment over and over again and lose sleep over this and mess up my speech during the election so you can end up becoming the president? is this your grand plan?”

taesan has noticed that you become, for lack of better words, a yapper when you’re sick, but he didn’t think that your imagination would go overboard in this state too. nonetheless, he easily pushes the observation away when he deciphers the meaning behind your words and he doesn’t miss the chance to spin the tables around.

“i’m flattered, y/n,” he says, biting back his grin with a blush that’s still visible, but a lot more subdued. “i didn’t know i had this much of an effect on you.”

it seems you’ve finally registered what you just said, as he feels you freeze up behind him, and all he can do is try to suppress the smile that threatens to stretch across his face. he’s slowed down his steps considerably because he knows he’ll arrive at your dorm soon, but you’re already jumping off his back before he can realise.

“have a terrible night,” you say with a painfully straight face and walk off briskly, but halt in your tracks almost immediately.

“you left your bag,” taesan says, hiding his amusement behind his hand as he holds up the backpack he’s been carrying together with you.

you turn and stalk to him, grabbing it wordlessly before taking long strides away from him to disappear from his view.

when you wake up in the morning, it feels just as humiliating as the time you called han taesan when you were drunk (you had ended up cursing at him for fifteen minutes straight, and he somehow hadn’t cut you off once), which had become one of your top miserable moments in life.

no, this is even more humiliating, because at the very least you could use the excuse of intoxication before, but you had been fully sober this time.

it takes a little more effort to get up today, but before long, you’re heading out of your dorm quietly to not wake your roommate. despite being ten minutes later than usual, the student council office is still empty by the time you arrive. you can only be grateful, because the dread that had clawed at your skin as you stood before the door was intense—you really didn’t want to face him.

you find yourself hating the joy you dumbly felt a few moments ago, because the moment you take a seat, the door opens and of course it’s the person you wanted to avoid the most today.

you don’t greet taesan or even spare him a glance as you pull out your laptop and place it on the desk, but you see him inching closer from your peripheral vision. with your eyes lasered on your laptop screen, you pretend to not notice until he’s directly next to you and you have no choice but to address him.

wordlessly, he places a bag next to your laptop and walks to his usual seat on the opposite side of the conference table. your gaze follows him momentarily before you turn back to the bag. you take a peek and immediately raise an eyebrow when you see three different cold medicines, your favorite candies, and a cup of hot green tea—the same one you bought last night.

you look up at taesan, who seems to be darting his gaze everywhere but at you, but the door is already opening again as more members enter the office for the meeting. you keep your eyes on him for a little longer, who’s still adamant on not looking over, until you finally break your gaze when the meeting starts.

after you’re dismissed, you immediately call out for taesan, who looks up like a meerkat at your voice. you ask him to stay in the room for a little longer and pointedly ignore the meaningful looks from your fellow council members, who quickly file out of the room sensibly.

the moment the door shuts behind them, you raise the bag he gave you, shaking it slightly. “are you trying to bribe me?” you interrogate, straight to the point.

taesan only blinks, as if he's trying to process what you just asked, before his lips part and one corner of his lips quirks up in what can only be a scoff of disbelief. “are you serious?” he shakes his head, but not unkindly. 

“i mean—” you falter, finally realising how you came off. “thank you,” you say, and the way he instantly brightens up reminds you of a cat at the sight of treats. “but,” you add, and he shrivels. “why?”

he swipes his bottom lip with his tongue and flattens the hair on his nape as he says, “you’re sick.”

“i’m… aware,” you reply, forcing down the recent memories that floated to the top of your head. “i just—” you pause, looking down at the bag in your hands to gather your thoughts before you face him again. “people don’t usually do this for those they hate.”

taesan blinks. once, twice, thrice. the immediate rigidness from him is so noticeable that the air almost turns icy around you. you’ve never had a comfortable one, but the silence that falls over you is suddenly too loaded, too overbearing. 

but then his eyes lock onto yours, as if he’s finally seeing you, and the edges of his demeanour instantly melt away. he’s looking at you so softly, reminiscent of his expression in your memories, that it strangely makes you fidgety.

“y/n,” he calls, which suddenly feels too loud in the room with no one else but the two of you. he rounds the table and walks towards where you stand on the opposite side, stopping a few feet away. 

you look up at him, and it’s the first time you’re noticing how tall he actually is. like this, him staring down at you with eyes that hold too much, you feel a little… nervous.

though his expression is still construed as bewildered, you can feel his gentleness radiating from every cell, as if he’s holding a flower in his hands he’s afraid to crush. “i don’t hate you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t think i ever could.”

oh. you think, and you can feel the puzzle pieces start to align in your head. “but… you’re always trying to rile me up.” you find yourself furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, the pieces repelling each other again. 

he caresses his nape, looking down sheepishly. “i thought… we were having friendly banter,” he says, then looks over at you through his eyelashes. “i’m sorry for upsetting you,” he says, and the sincerity in his tone is so evident that it takes you aback.

“oh.” you think aloud this time, surprised by the unfamiliarity of the man before you. “it’s… okay,” you reply. then, you suddenly realise how dramatic you’ve been, and you feel your cheeks heat up uncontrollably. “i’m… sorry too, for all the times i’ve been rude to you.” you lower your head and shut your eyes, too embarrassed to look at him.

taesan laughs, a hearty sound that surrounds you like a warm blanket. you open your eyes, realising it’s the first time you’ve heard him like this, and look up to capture the moment. he’s laughing toothily, eyes crinkled into half-moons as he hovers one hand over his mouth. as you take in the sight of him in awe, you suddenly realise that this may be what has been beneath your emo rival’s irritating remarks all this time.

when you look back at all the times taesan has interacted with you, you don’t know why you thought he hated you. besides his tendency to, in his words, banter with you in class and the student council, he’s always tolerated your ridiculousness—from that call where he had simply asked if you needed a ride home after listening to your insults, to carrying you on his back all throughout the relatively long walk to your dorm just because you said it in passing.

you furrow your eyebrows. the puzzle pieces are moving closer again.

“taesan,” you call out before you can stop yourself. as of this moment, your mouth has disconnected from your brain as you try to fit the puzzle correctly, so you find yourself spitting out the question without a warning. “do you like me?”

the way he stiffens instantly would be comedic if not for the fact that you had asked a question that could break the truce you just formed. the realisation finally dawns on you, and panic starts to set in as you see his reaction. “you don’t have to answer that, i didn’t mean to—”

“y/n,” taesan cuts you off effectively. for a moment, only silence can be heard between you, and you hope he doesn’t catch your erratic heartbeat from your nervousness.

then, he offers a small smile. “give me a chance to answer this properly next time,” he says extra softly, as if he’s afraid of scaring you away. “for now, just know that, even if you drunk-dial me to yell at me again or curse at me all throughout another piggyback ride,” he softens, “i will never be able to dislike you.”

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