#I know this is very well established but: there is something deeply wrong with him

[raconteur-wanpi]

I think we as a fandom don't bully Rob Lucci enough for the whole pigeon ventriloquism thing. Or like, in general.

Why did he do that. He didn't have to do that. In what ways was it necessary in helping him hide his identity. He pretended he couldn't speak unless it was through a funny animal voice for years. Years. For no discernable reason.

[luveline]

Hiii!! Could I request a bombshell reader x Spencer where someone (a local police maybe) says something rude to her about her appearance or something and normally it doesn’t really get to her, but something snaps and she kinda shuts down/is rude to Spencer until he coaxes it out of her? Sorry it’s long I had an idea and ran w it loollll

ty for requesting angel! confident fem!reader, 1k

Spencer shouldn’t expect his colleague to hold his hand, especially one so confident. What sense would that make, a woman as established as you are, who smiles without a lick of worry nor smugness, wanting to hold his hand? 

But you do it all the time, is the thing. In the car on the way to crime scenes, in the hallways of the office, under the round table. It started as a tethering for his distractedness, when one day he’d wanted to talk but hadn’t had the presence of mind to walk at the same time, so you’d taken his hand and led him to the office. You’ve been taking it at your discretion ever since.  

Spencer knows something is wrong —you haven’t tried to hold his hand all day. And even if you aren’t interested in him romantically, Spencer has come to crave the touch. He’ll accept platonic hand holding. Anything, really. 

“You’re staring very deeply, Dr. Reid,” you mutter, shades from your usual lightness. 

“I’m thinking.” 

“Aren’t you always?” 

“About you.”

“Well,” you smile fleetingly. “You should always be thinking about me.” 

“You’re truly humble.” 

His joke doesn’t land, it crashes and burns; your smile fades completely into a short, sharp line. Your gaze moves back into the restaurant, waiting for the team's food order in silence once again. 

Spencer’s pinky finger twitches across the gap. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks. 

“Fine.” 

You stay quiet, Spencer worries. He takes the bags before you can when they bring your food to the collection desk, two lumps of heat he holds to his thighs as you begin the walk back to the hotel. Tonight, the team will pick at their food together and rehash the same arguments they’ve been making all day, filling in each other's gaps, and tomorrow the work will start again. He can’t have you this unhappy again tomorrow. 

“You’re amazing,” he says, watching you turn to him from the corner of his eye, “you know you are, we all do, everyone who meets you. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, or to feel better, but… I’m here for you. If you want to talk. It’s been a hard couple of days, and talking about traumatic events as they happen and directly afterward make them easier to recover from.” 

“I’m not traumatised.” 

“Upsetting,” he corrects. “Having a shoulder to cry on is good for you, and I can be that shoulder. You know, if you need me to be.” 

He can’t know this in the moment, though maybe one day you’ll tell him, further down the line when the hand holding is better defined, but you look at him and you love him. To know Spencer is to love him. Or at least that’s how you’ve always felt. You’d love to cry on his shoulder about what transpired that morning if it weren’t embarrassing to think about, you’re upset over a throwaway comment made by nobody important. 

Spencer offers his company earnestly. He stammers. It’s amazingly sincere, as he usually is. He won’t mind if it’s embarrassing, he’ll just listen. 

You clear your throat. “I know I’m not to everyone’s taste. I know that the way I… present myself isn’t what most men like. People love confidence, but not when it’s bossy, not when it’s– when it’s vain. And I am vain. I think about my appearance a lot, I think I’m beautiful most of the time, I try so hard to have that be true.” You eye him thoughtfully. “Do you realise that?” 

He shakes his head gently, one ear toward one shoulder and then the other, as though balancing. “Sort of. I know you put effort into your appearance, but I also assume a lot of it to be natural.” 

“Right, well. It’s not natural. Not really. My natural beauty wouldn’t be all the beautiful to most people. And I’ve accepted that, I know what I like about myself, and–” You’re losing the thread of your point, an upset creeping into your melodic tone and turning it ragged. “When people tell me they don’t like how I look now, I guess it hurts because I know they wouldn’t like me before, either, and I feel defeated because I know I can’t win.” 

“Who said they don’t like how you look?” Spencer asks, confused, on his way to annoyed. 

“Officer Friendly.” You look to your shoes, watching the steps you take. “Guess he wasn’t as nice as we thought.” 

“What did he say to you?” 

You shrug. “Same story. He doesn’t like girls who wear makeup. Doesn’t like uppity women.” 

“Did he call you that?” 

“What are you gonna do if he did?” you ask without malice. 

“Morgan’s teaching me self defence for a reason.” You smile at his light joke, though it doesn’t last. He transfers the takeout bags into one hand, the other held out to you, his fingers sliding down your arm to your wrist. “You know you’re beautiful, with or without makeup. And you’re not uppity, you’re out of his league. There’s a difference.” 

“You’re flirting with me.” 

“No.” He wishes he had the wherewithal sometimes, but this isn’t flirting. “I’m being honest with you. Men like that don’t like you because they know they’ll never, ever have you, or anyone like you. There isn’t anyone like you,” he adds, sliding his hand into yours. 

He squeezes all your fingers together twice in quick succession. 

“Don’t let a jealous chauvinist halfwit make you think you’re not good enough,” he says. 

You curl your fingers around his before he can take his hand back. Slowly, you squeeze his hand. Then, smiling, you let him go. 

“I’ve never heard you say something mean like that,” you say. “Halfwit. That’s crass.” 

“I was going to say he’s an asshole, if that’s better.” 

Your laugh echoes off of the sidewalk. “That’s perfect. Say something meaner.” 

The insult he uses next doesn’t bear repeating. 

[neocrias]

Hello can you do 7dream headcanon: ways to win their hearts/ to approach them?pls

Thanks🤍🤍

Sorry for the delay, we are a bit of a procrastinator

Ways to win their hearts

Mark – Being a Good Person

With Mark, it’s all about being genuinely good. He’s known for being a leader and has been working in the industry from a young age, so he’s deeply touched by understanding and empathetic people who show genuine interest in him and his feelings. But there’s one thing that truly wins him over: being good with kids.

For him, that’s the ultimate sign of a good person. Mark is family-centered, and if he sees the person he’s interested in playing with a child, being kind and gentle… he might just drop to his knees and propose on the spot. Of course, this would come after an already established connection between him and his S/O.

Renjun - Artistic and Intellectual

Our Renjun himself can be a very introspective, reflective and artistical person. For one like this, being in touch with those higher forms of human essence could be a sign that someone is... well, special.

For him, I think he'd just really appreciate having someone who can add to his unique perspectives, have their own strong and remarkable opinions about the interests they have in common. Bonus points if the person knows how to articulate their thoughts and defends their points of view fiercely (he would definitelyyy find that hot), or if they're artists themselves.

Jeno – Compliments

Jeno is a calm and composed guy who loves being praised and appreciated. Acknowledging his skills is the key to his heart. If you compliment him often or make it clear how amazing he is, he’ll melt—after all, he’s just a puppy at heart. Tell him, “Good boy,” and give him two pats on the head, and he’ll be wagging his tail in no time.

Something like: “Hey, can you grab that box for me? Careful, it’s heavy—wow, you’re really strong…” When he lifts it effortlessly, Jeno will pretend he’s unfazed, but inside, he’s screaming: Oh my god, she wants me SO bad. I’m irresistible.

Haechan – Challenge

This man thrives on challenges and dynamic interactions. He absolutely lives for the thrill of breaking you, teasing you until you snap, pushing you until you lash out at him, making you so frustrated you want to cry (I once heard he likes making his sister cry or something). BUT- when you fight back???

That’s it. There’s no one else. Just you.

He loves when someone doesn’t fall for his charm immediately, when they challenge him right back, when they don’t get flustered but instead match his energy. If you fire back with even more wit and mischief, Haechan will be absolutely hooked.

Jaemin - Common Interests and Shyness

Okay, we've come to this: Na Jaemin, the leo. Although Jaemin might do and say things that have us all asking ourselves "wth does he mean with that", I also believe that he's much more of an open person than we take him for. Jaemin would really appreciate a partner who shared same experiences and hobbies as his, as a leo, because that would get him a way of seeing himself in someone else - and believe me, he'd be head over heels. Plus, being understood and related just feels likes something he craves, especially because of all his eccentricity. Having someone to match his freak would be...welcome.

A plus is if the person is shy. Hear me out on this one: THE Na Jaemin, flirty and easygoing, trying to fluster his S/O who can only blush and giggle at his compliment showers. That would do wonders to his ego, and he would coo so badly with his kindergarden-teacher-voice.

Chenle - A listener

Our dear yapper Chenle. Yes, you got it right. He'd fall for someone who can keep up with his endless talking. Don't get me wrong, he doesn't really realize he's been talking nonstop for the last forty-minutes until he reaches an obnoxiously specific topic and asks the other person "wait, how did we get to this again?" - so it's not really personal.

However, this moment of epyphany in which he realizes he's been going on and on about different types of sauces for different types of meals for the last hour and the other person has just been nodding, observing and reacting properly will get him totally gone. Like wdym they've been ACTUALLY listening the whole time? He'd might just be in love!

(And yep, later in the relationship he might seriously refrain himself from talking too much, just because he wants the S/O to be talkative too. That'll make him realize that listening may end up being much fun to do - especially if you're listening to a loved one)

Jisung – Inexperience

Jisung was the maknae for way too long, and he’s tired of being seen as an innocent little boy - he wants to be seen as a man (sources? I made it up). That’s why I think he’d be incredibly obsessed with the idea of being the experienced, responsible one in a relationship—the one who leads the way and is trusted to make decisions. Not too much, though; he wouldn’t want someone completely dependent or childish.

He wants to teach things, everything he knows, everything he’s learned (from Chenle). He wants you to rely on him, to be sweet and gentle in a way that feels natural, and to let him take the lead in most situations.

[loudstan]

Bestie

Summary: A project for your botany class goes wrong. Now you and your friend who you have a very obvious crush on are stressed and horny.

Pairing: Werewolf! Yangyang x Witch female reader

Warnings: Smut, sex pollen, phone sex, JUST THE TIP IS NOT A SAFE METHOD FYI, friends to lovers, I would call this couple dumb and dumber. Also I need him. No angst (FINALLY)

Yangyang was a weird guy. 

That’s what you thought when he joined the same botany class as you for elective credits, and he was already muttering something about how he hated it before it started. He wasn’t talking to anyone in particular but he was dropping his bag and sitting on the available seat next to you so you could hear him.

“Then why did you enroll?” you asked, a little annoyed. He was kinda cute, but a grown adult whining about his chosen class was a turnoff.

“All the good classes were full already,” he replied petulantly. “I’m not even good with plants. I killed my mom’s cactus when–” his sentence died out when he turned to look at you and he just stared at you dumbly.

You lifted your brows, expecting him to finish the story about how one manages to kill a cactus, but he just stared.

“What’s wrong with you?” you finally asked.

“H-hi,” he said instead of replying, with a nervous yet cheerful tone, contrary to the one you had heard earlier. “I’m Yangyang.”

You frowned. You had met a few weirdos on campus, so you assumed he was just one of them. Still, you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“I’m Y/N,” you said, offering your hand for him to shake.

His eyes lit up and he grabbed your hand, but he immediately pulled back with a …moan?

“Fuck, bad idea,” he murmured, standing up and getting away from you like you had just burnt him.

Fairly enough, your hand felt incredibly hot after he touched it and a comforting warmth was now expanding in your chest.

“Bad idea,” he repeated, grabbing his backpack and running towards the door. “Nice to meet you, Y/N!” he yelled before disappearing. 

Yangyang was euphoric like never before. As he ran home he felt the cold wind hit his reddened cheeks and the still-fresh memory of your citrus scent mixed with the ocean breeze so perfectly he found himself with his arms wide open and inhaling deeply. It smelled like happiness. Holy shit, your scent should definitely be called liquid happiness and sold in tiny expensive bottles. But then other people would get to smell you.

A low growl resonated in his chest and he stopped dead in his tracks, placing his palm on his chest to feel the vibrations. 

Was he being possessive?

Wow, so the others weren’t exaggerating when they said imprinting made you unreasonably jealous and clingy. ‘Wolf instinct’ they called it.

He resumed his way home, now feeling the fatigue and pain that everyone told him about when entering an unscheduled rut due to imprinting, which he also mistakenly thought was an exaggeration. 

“Skipping class already?” Ten asked, unimpressed, as soon as Yangyang opened the front door.

“Yes, but it's an emergency,” Yangyang said, out of breath and dragging his feet to come in.

“What’s wrong?” Ten asked with a concerned tone this time.

“My dick’s about to explode.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“I’m so serious,” Yangyan groaned, barely making it to the sofa and flopping on it. “Imprinting better be fucking worth it because this hurts.”

“Imprinting?” Ten repeated incredulously. “You imprinted?!”

The younger nodded tiredly. “She’s so hot, hyung. Everyone’s gonna be so jealous.”

Ten squealed excitedly. “How did you meet?”

“We 're in the same botany class and…fuck, I really need to be her partner for the project.”

“Wait, botany class with Professor Lawson?”

“Yeah, why?” 

“I know the guy,” Ten said with a smirk. “I’ll have a word with him. I’m sure he won’t mind helping you out.”

“Oh, thank god. Thank you so much,” Yangyang murmured weakly.

“Tell me more about her! What’s she like?”

“Well, we established that she's the hottest woman on Earth. She also has beautiful eyes that look so cute when annoyed.”

“You annoyed her already?”

“And her voice is so addictive,” Yangyang continued, ignoring the question. “And she has this super delicious scent…” he groaned, not noticing that his hand was going down to his trousers.

“Yangyang, do that in your room! Have some shame!” Ten exclaimed, forcing him to stand up and pushing him to the stairs. “Go upstairs and I’ll bring suppressants in a minute.”

Surprisingly, Yangyang was obedient this time, forcing himself to make an effort to go to his room. He usually took suppressants before he could even experience a pre-rut, so he didn’t remember the last time he felt this tired and needy. He took the pills Ten gave him and took off his pants, knowing very well that no pill would be too effective now that he had met you and that he had to take care of himself the old-fashioned way.

Honestly? He was happy to do it if he got to think about you to cum.

“Hhmmm…” he bit his lip and arched his back when his fingers—the same ones that had touched your skin earlier— finally circled his cock.

He remembered how soft your hand was. How would it feel if it was your hand touching him instead of his?

He chuckled. Your hand probably wouldn’t be able to grasp all of him. You would have to use both.

“Yeah, Y/N,” he whispered, closing his eyes and imagining he had you there with him. “It’s okay, just g-go slow, hm?”

In his vision, you stubbornly tried to grab him more firmly and jerk him faster. In reality, he tugged at his cock until reaching the desired speed. “Ooohh, you like it that much? Mhmm? You can have it, Y/N, g-go ahead…”

He ran his thumb over the tip a few times, imagining it was your pretty tongue teasing him. “Oooooh yes, baby, that’s my girl, right there…”

He quickened the pace, occasionally teasing the tip again. He was so close already and he had barely touched himself.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispered letting out a breathy laugh, thrusting into his fist. “Fuuuck I’m so lucky.”

Would you let him cum on your face? Would you close your eyes or keep them open and meet his gaze?

“Y/N–Oh!” His eyes screwed shut and he tossed his head back. His mouth opened in a silent scream and his toes curled when his orgasm hit and cum covered his fist and lower belly…and it kept coming out. “Ooooh, what the f-fuck, whatthefuck, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N…” he babbled out incoherently, tossing at the neverending pleasure. 

When he finally stopped coming, he opened his eyes slowly and looked at the ceiling in astonishment.

What the fuck was that? Was every orgasm going to feel like this from now on? What would happen when he finally got to do it with you?

He couldn’t wait to figure it out.

You, on the other hand, thought you wouldn’t see Yangyang again, assuming he had dropped the class. So you were more than surprised when he showed up next week, standing in front of you and clearing his throat to catch your attention.

“Oh, it’s you,” you sighed. 

“We’re together,” he mumbled, showing you a piece of paper with your name on it.

Great. Not only was there a lunatic in your class, but you were stuck with him as a partner for a project.

“Why didn’t you drop the class?” you asked honestly. “You said you didn’t like plants.”

“I don’t hate plants,” he shrugged, sitting next to you. “They just die on me.”

You glared at him in disbelief. “You do know your grade depends on your ability to keep plants alive, don’t you?”

“Are you good with plants?” he asked back.

“Yes,” you hissed. “Unlike you, I want to be in this class.”

“Then you can teach me,” he shrugged.

“Or better yet,” you offered. “I’ll do everything and write your name on the report. Just don’t get on my way.”

“Mr. Lawson!” Yangyang called for the professor, raising his hand. “Y/N doesn’t want to follow the rules–”

“He’s kidding!” you yelled quickly, grabbing Yangyang’s arm and hitting his back.

He groaned and then laughed like he enjoyed this type of attention coming from you.

“Yangyang, I won’t risk my grade for you.”

He smirked lazily. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

He shrugged.”Yeah, we just have to learn to work together.”

“I don’t know if you can’t tell, but I already dislike you,” you said.

He shrugged again. “I kinda like you though.”

You blushed immediately, not expecting such words to come out of his mouth.

“J-just promise me you’ll carry your weight and maybe we can try to be friends or something.”

“Friends,” he savored the word. “Sounds good.”

You opened your book, ready to end the conversation there and concentrate on the class when you remembered something.

“Why did you run off like that? That time when we shook hands?” you asked, turning to look at him and freezing in place when his eyes met yours. They looked hungry, and predatory, unlike before. How did he keep changing his aura like that?

“Something urgent came up,” he said, still holding you captive with his gaze.

“What was a bad idea?” you asked.

“Hmm?”

“You said ‘bad idea’ before you ran away.”

His eyes hardened and then he looked at your lips, but he didn’t reply. 

The warm sensation came back, but this time traveled down your chest to your stomach and then went even lower.

You crossed your legs quickly and saw him smirk. Could he know what you were feeling?

“What was a bad idea?” you repeated, a little unsure you wanted to know the answer this time, but right then the professor started talking and you quickly looked to the front, focusing on the class.

“Shaking your hand,” Yangyang’s voice whispered, right next to your ear, giving you goosebumps and making you sit up straight, tense.

“Why was shaking my hand a bad idea?” you asked nervously, still not daring to look at him.

“Mine was sweaty,” he said unexpectedly, trying not to laugh when you turned to look at him with an annoyed expression. God he was going to have so much fun with you. “It’s really embarrassing.”

“Your hand wasn’t sweaty,” you countered.

“You didn’t feel it because I took it back fast enough. I’m a very considerate guy as you can see.”

“I think you’re just annoying,” you said, deciding he was not worth your attention and concentrating on the class again.

“Deal with it. I’m your new friend,” he said casually, opening his book.

“I never said–”

“No takebacks.”

“But I–” “Shh, bestie. I’m trying to pay attention to the class,” he nagged you. “I’m not risking my grade for you, Y/N.”

You scoffed, irritated. You assumed he would be a handful, but as time went by you discovered that he wasn’t as terrible as you thought. He was surprisingly diligent; taking detailed notes, asking relevant questions (some of which you wished you had thought of yourself), and even correcting you when you made a mistake (much to your disdain). 

You had no idea how he managed to pay attention when he was looking at you the entire time. At first, you thought you were imagining things, but he made it very obvious, sometimes not even bothering to look away when you caught him staring. He often stared at your neck and chest, biting his lip so hard you thought he would draw blood, other times he would stare at your crossed legs as if he knew that you were fighting your arousal due to his intense gaze, but most of the time he stared at your face, clenching his fist like he was fighting the urge to caress your cheeks. 

You got the most piercing glares when you wore something a bit more revealing. 

It was a regular summer day when you decided to wear the prettiest floral dress you owned. The fabric was light and fresh, not too tight but it hugged your curves nicely. Most importantly, you felt both pretty and comfortable.

“You’re here?” Yangyang asked casually without looking up from his phone as you placed your bag next to your seat. 

You had sat next to each other for at least a couple of months now, and you were working on the final project together which meant you also met often outside of the class. Sometimes you went for food or ice cream after hours of writing a report and you genuinely had a good time whenever you hung out. You could confidently say that you were somewhat friends by now. 

You hummed and sat down. “How was your weekend?”

“Eh, nothing interesting,” he shrugged, scrolling down. “Have you seen this video–” he finally looked up to show you something on his phone but he stopped mid-sentence when he saw you.

“What video?” you asked.

“What are you wearing?” he asked back.

“A dress?” 

“Why?”

You roll your eyes. “I never question your fashion choices, do I? Plus, I think it’s pretty,” you said, grabbing the hem to pull it down and cover your legs a bit more since the dress had rolled up when you sat down. “What’s wrong with it?”

No sound came out of his lips but he mouthed a very clear ‘fuck’, as he tried to decide if he should focus on your legs or your clavicle.

You blushed and muttered a ‘whatever’, deciding to ignore him for the rest of the class for your own sanity. The last thing you needed was him checking you out and feeding your fantasies that you had unwillingly conjured along with developing a huge inconvenient crush on him. 

You had tried to deny your feelings for weeks, but after the first month, you couldn’t help thinking of him when you pleasured yourself, wondering what he would feel like inside of you. Finding out he was a werewolf only made you even hornier, having heard about how intense sex with one could be. 

You also wondered what he would sound like, if he would go slow like the tease he is or fast and rough to hear you scream.

 Maybe the latter because he seemed to like eliciting sounds from you. You could tell by how often he annoyed you, scared you, and even tickled you until he got some type of vocal reaction from you. 

He would often call you cute when any of those scenarios happened and then his hands would linger a little too long before you slapped his arm and he laughed.

Your crush had intensified by the time you had your midterms and you got an A+ for the report you wrote together. He gave you a high five before impulsively pulling you in for a hug.

And god, he was so warm, and his chest was firmer than you thought and his hands felt just perfect on your waist.

“You did amazing,” he purred right next to your ear, causing you to let out an unexpected whimper.

You both tensed at the sound. You had never been more embarrassed but then you felt his grip tighten and his heartbeat accelerating on his chest pressed against yours.

“Oh, fuck me…” he groaned, nosing your neck.

Your eyes rolled back and you wanted to tell him that you would gladly do so until you heard someone clearing their throat. 

Professor Lawson was not enjoying the show.

You quickly pulled away from each other and never spoke about it again. But Yangyang was always staring, sitting too close, grazing…

Right now, his shorts allowed for his bare legs to gently rub yours and it was making you imagine things that weren’t appropriate for the place and time. The fact that his breathing sounded slightly agitated didn’t help and neither did having him manspreading to feel your touch better so shamelessly.

You gulped before deciding to be bold for once and spread your legs slightly too, pressing your thigh closer to his. 

He inhaled sharply.

He decided to be bold too by slowly dragging one of his hands under the table and gently patting your outer thigh with his fingertips.

You gasped and he retrieved his hand immediately, but you grabbed his wrist, feeling his quickened pulse where your fingers were.

This was a bad idea and you knew it. You were in public, in the middle of class, yet you found yourself shakily placing his hand where it was again not daring to look at him but hoping he would get the hint.

He kept his eyes on the whiteboard, but his fingers drew small patterns on your skin, making you wetter than before. 

You gathered some more courage to place your hand on his thigh, wanting to do the same for him, but as soon as you made contact with the hot skin exposed by his shorts he moaned loud enough for the people on the desks around you to look at you. 

You quickly took your hand away and he did the same. You still didn’t make eye contact and you knew this would be another one of the so many not-so-friendly moments you shared that would never be spoken about again.

Once the class was over, and even though you were mortified, you cleared your throat to speak.

“Uh, we need to talk about–”

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to!” he quickly said with wide eyes, fearing a rejection before he even had the chance to confess.

“No, we absolutely have to–”

“How about you take your time to think about it–”

“Yangyang,” you deadpanned. “It’s about the project.”

“Oh,” he let out a relieved sigh. “What about it?”

“Remember I told you I’m going to visit my family for two weeks?”

“Yeah, so?”

“I can’t take our plant with me.”

“Oh…OH?” Yangyang’s eyes widened when he realized what that meant. While he was quite good at the theoretical part, he was still terrified of killing the plant so you were the one to take care of it all the time. If you were away then that meant he had no choice but to take the plant with him.

“You’ll be okay, right?”

“Probably.”

“Probably?”

“I’m terrified,” he admitted.

“It’s only for two weeks,” you reminded him. “You are more than capable of taking care of our baby during that time.”

He blushed hard when you called the plant ‘our baby’ and smiled like an idiot thinking of this being the first of many things you would share. And then he nodded, telling himself that it would be fine as he walked with you to your dorm to receive the project you both had worked on so hard for months.

The Scarlet Sugar Plum was a beautiful plant and, if properly nourished, its leaves could be used as an ingredient to make a Love Potion, which Yangyang was sure was a sign that you were meant to be.

He placed the pot near the window in his room, smiling dreamily. 

Our baby…

But a week later he was glaring at said plant with a sour expression. He didn’t get it. He gave it plenty of sunlight and water so why did it look so weak and dry? The before colorful leaves were turning brown and some of them had fallen, and he feared it soon would be nothing but a bent stem.

You were going to kill him.

Worse: you were going to be disappointed in him.

You were going to hate him and never want to talk to him again and he wouldn’t get to properly confess and he would die alone without his mate and–

Fuck…There had to be something he could do…

Maybe he could buy a new plant? 

No, you would notice immediately that it wasn’t the same one.

Then…he had heard some classmates talk about this potion that would make a plant grow bigger and stronger. The problem was that it wasn’t legal because the side effects could vary and end up making a plant poisonous. 

Was he willing to break the law so you wouldn’t hate him?

…Yes.

You suspected nothing when you texted him asking for a picture of the plant and saw that it looked healthy and strong, even with an extra flower.

“Told you you could do it!” you exclaimed happily when he called you later to catch up. 

“Just hurry up and come get your baby,”  he complained.

“Our baby,” you corrected him. “She’s your project too.”

“I was talking about me,” he replied and you could hear the teasing in his voice. “I’m your baby.”

“You behave like one,” you laughed.

 “No but seriously, hurry up. She misses you.”

“She misses me or you miss me?” you teased.

“I miss you,” he said with no hesitation. 

You blushed, not knowing what to answer for a second and then you paid attention to his breathing. It sounded agitated.

“Are you okay?” you asked. “You sound a little out of breath.”

“Yeah,” he groaned. “It’s just really fucking hot today.”

“Turn the AC on. Don’t be stingy!” you joked as a way to distract yourself from how hot his little groans sounded.

“It’s on!” he complained. “Maybe the problem is me. Am I in rut? Why am I in rut?! it’s not time yet…” he rambled on.

You bit your lip. Yeah, there were times when he had no filter around you, but this was the first time he spoke so openly about his rut.

“Oh, when is it supposed t-to happen, then?” you asked casually, hoping he wouldn’t notice your stutter.

“At least in one more month,” he breathed out. “Fuck, being a werewolf sucks sometimes…”

“It’s kinda cool,” you admitted.

“What’s cool about it?”

“Well, you have a better sense of smell, don’t you?”

“That’s both a blessing and a curse,” he chuckled weakly.

“Why’s that? Because of odors?”

“Because some people smell too fucking good,” he sighed. “Make it hard to control myself.” “O-oh,” you gulped. “Like who?”

“I think you know who, bestie,” he purred, making you shiver.

What was going on?

Was he this direct because of his rut?

You breathed shakily. “W-well, you are also faster and stronger than us humans. That’s pretty cool.”

“Hmm, yeah it can be cool,” he admitted. “I could catch you easily if you tried to run away…”

You gasped and he hummed. You heard some movement too.

“W-why would I run away?” you laughed nervously, feeling your panties sticking to your pussy.

“Wouldn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t…” you breathed out.

He moaned loudly and you heard the sound of a zipper.

“Yangyang,” you rubbed your thighs together needily. “I think I should hang up.”

“No, fuck!” he groaned. “S-stay a little longer, hm? Talk to me.”

“A-about what?”

“Anything,” he breathed out and for a second you could hear a wet sound that made it very obvious he was touching himself. “W-what else is c-cool about werewolves?”

“You have a g-great sense of t-taste,” you said, very consciously sliding your hand into your shorts to feel your wetness over your panties.

Oh god. Were you really doing this?

“Yeah, f-fuck,” he moaned and the fapping sound became faster. “Taste so fucking good,” he sighed dreamily. 

“What tastes good?” you asked, grazing over your clit.

“You–shit!”

“You d-don’t know that…”

“I’m sure,” he replied between moans. “Someone w-who smells so delicious has t-to taste good…”

“Fuck…” you breathed out, rubbing your clit slowly.

“Wanna know what else is cool?” he panted. “Our body temperature is higher…haaa… so m-my tongue is hot as fuck–Mmm…Wanna feel it, bestie?”

Your eyes rolled back and you moaned shamelessly.

“Oooh, yes t-that’s it, imagine it, baby,” he urged you, making you clench at the nickname. “Feel so fucking good, yeah?”

“So g-good,” you panted, rubbing faster and hearing him moaning your name.

“Have you ever seen a knot?” he asked between groans. He couldn’t see you shaking your head but he continued, assuming your answer was no. “N-nothing could make you feel as f-full, ah…filling you up j-just right–fuck…Would ruin you for any other man…”

“Please…” you begged, almost tasting your climax.

“Fuck you so good,” he spoke with slurred words. “Bet y-you’d take it all, yeah?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you muttered, arching your back.

“Ah, haa…Y/N you’re d-doing amazing– oh god…”

“Yangyang!”

“FUCK! Yes, s-say my name j-just like that,” he whines, very obviously fucking his fist and panting desperately as he heard you murmur his name again and again like a mantra. “Oooh fuck, take my knot–”

You didn’t even try to hide the embarrassing moan that came out of your mouth when you had the most powerful orgasm of your life.

While talking to a friend on the phone.

And moaning his name.

You were coming down from your high when you heard him laugh breathlessly.

“So fucking good…” he murmured.

Oh god, you had had phone sex with Yangyang.

“Uh, so, I hope your rut goes well,” you said awkwardly.

“It would if you were here,” he said, still daydreaming.

“Haha,” you laughed nervously. “You’ll find someone to bang next time!”

“Huh?”

“I heard Cassie has the hots for you!”

“B-but…just now…we–”

“Hey, happy to help, bestie!” you interrupted him. “But next time you’ll do that with someone you like.”

He groaned. “Y/N, what–”

“Gotta go! Take care of our project!” you faked a cheerful tone and hung up, turning your phone off and throwing it away nervously to then proceed to scream into your pillow.

Now he knew for sure.

He knew you had a crush on him.

Fuck, you were so embarrassed. He was horny because of his rut, but you had no excuse to moan his name like that. You probably sounded pathetic begging for him.

Maybe he wouldn’t care? Yeah, maybe he was thankful that you helped him out and you would continue being friends. All you had to do was not address it, just like all the other moments of tension you kept sharing and then pretending that never happened.

It would be fine.

Everything was fine.

You kept repeating that to yourself to calm your nerves when you stood in front of Yangyang’s house a few days later. 

It was an old-fashioned house but it was huge, which made sense considering he told you he lived with his pack. 

“I’ll get it!” you heard Yangyang’s voice scream from the other side of the door after you rang the bell. “Why are y’all just standing here? Go away!”

There was a moment of silence. And then you thought you heard him say ‘Fine, but act normal.’

The door swung open and Yangyang welcomed you with his characteristic smile.

“Hey!” he greeted, giving you a friendly hug.

You sighed, relieved. Nothing had changed. He wasn’t awkward around you.

“Hey, you!” you smiled until you noticed at least a dozen eyes on you. A group of men, who you assumed were his packmates, were looking at you with big smiles on their faces.

“Oh, hello!” you said nervously.

They replied cheerfully. Too cheerfully. And Yangyang quickly grabbed your arm and pulled you up the stairs with him.

“Ignore them,” he told you once you entered his room and he closed the door. “They don’t know how to act around girls.”

You snorted. “Oh, so I’m a girl to you now?”

He frowned. “You’ve always been?”

“We’re friends,” you reminded him, deciding to do damage control just in case. “We’re basically bros. You don’t see me as a girl and I don’t see you as a boy.”

He gave you an unreadable look but before he could answer you reached for the plant.

“Oh my god! She grew so much!”

“Yeah…” Yangyang agreed.

“You did a great job! You didn’t need to be afraid, see?”

He bit his lip nervously.

“Normally they don’t grow more than one flower a month, you know?” you babbled out. 

“U-huh…”

“And the leaves normally wouldn’t be this shade of green until winter!”

“Uh…yep…”

“And the scent is normally not this sugary…” your voice became a murmur.

You turned to look at him and he looked away.

“Did you do anything special?” you asked.

He shrugged. “I followed the instructions.”

You looked at the plant, taking a deep inhale at its scent, and then looked back at him. “Yangyang.”

“It’s healthy, isn’t it?” he asked defensively.

“But it isn’t normal.”

“Guess I discovered my natural talent.”

“Yangyang,” you warned him. The air was starting to feel hot and it was irritating you.

“Maybe I’m not as hopeless as you think.”

“I never said you were hopeless.”

“But you imply it!” he brushed his hair with his fingers, frustrated. He was flushed and beads of sweat were forming on his forehead.

“I didn’t–,” you groaned. “I just want to make sure!” you said, feeling slightly suffocated by the sweet scent of the plant.

“I…fuck! I’m sorry, okay? I fucked up!” he admitted, sitting on the bed.

“What did you do?” you asked, fanning yourself with your palm.

“I cheated,” he said defeatedly.

“How?”

“I used Gloom Dust Potion.”

“What?! Where did you get that?”

“The black market, of course,” he grumbled.

“How could you be so careless!” you yelled.

“But I wasn’t! That’s what makes this so frustrating,” he yelled back. “I measured the water, I made sure the room had the right temperature I even set alarms to check on her in the middle of the fucking night! I did everything and it still whithered and I don’t know why I’m such a useless man but I really tried my best because I wanted to give you an A+ and I wanted you to be proud of me and now you hate me–”

“Woah, hold on! I don’t hate you!” you said quickly.

He covered his face with his palms and you kneeled in front of him. “Hey, Yangyang, look at me,” you told him. 

He didn’t reply. 

“Please?” you asked softly.

Hesitantly he uncovered his face and gave you a shameful and sad look. He really had tried his best and he felt terrible about it not working out.

“I don’t hate you,” you repeated.

“Are you sure?” he asked with a small voice.

“Very sure,” you said, cupping his face with your palm.

He let out a soft moan, leaning into your touch.

That’s when you noticed that he was burning up.

“Yangyang, are you okay?” you asked.

“Sorry about the project,” he mumbled, nosing your palm.

“Forget about it. I think you have a fever,” you said, about to retreat your hand and go call for help but he grabbed your wrist and brought you closer again.

“I’m so sorry,” he slurred.

“It’s fine,” you said.

“You’re not mad?”

“I’m not, okay?”

“You’re so good to me…” he whispered.

You frowned. “Yangyang, I’ll go get one of your pack brothers.”

“Did you use this hand?” his question caught you off-guard.

“What?”

“When you touched yourself,” he clarified, scenting your wrist. “That night on the phone.”

You blushed furiously.

“W-what?” you repeated dumbly.

He brought your fingers to his mouth and licked them. It was true that his tongue was hotter than that of a human.

“Yeah, I bet it was this one–fuck…” he moaned.

Your knees wobbled. 

“Yangyang,” you gasped. “Let go. You have a fever.”

“But your skin is hot too,” he mumbled before sucking your index and middle finger into his mouth.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, feeling your head spinning. He was right. You felt incredibly hot and not only that. Your pussy was throbbing and your nipples had hardened under your shirt way before Yangyang had started acting weird.

You were too irritated to notice before but both you and Yangyang got turned on incredibly fast as soon as you entered the room. 

“W-wait oh, no,” you spoke again, pulling away from him and hearing him whine. “I know what’s happening,” you said, making your way to the plant.

Yangyang followed your every move with his eyes like he was hypnotized.

You got closer to one of the flowers and inhaled deeply, only to feel more sticky wetness accumulate between your legs. 

You groaned.

“Yangyang, we need to get out of this room,” you said, going back to him and trying to make him stand up.

“Why?” he asked, not budging.

“The potion intensifies the properties of plants. Ours is used to emulate the feeling of a crush…the feeling of liking someone, right?”

“Right,” he said, trying to process your words.

“Because of the potion, instead of just a crush, you get something bigger. Lust. Desire,” you deduced. 

His eyes widened. “I turned our plant into a fucking aphrodisiac!? So that’s why I’ve been so horny this past week?”

“It’s not your fault,” you say quickly, pulling his arm. “You didn’t know this would happen.”

“Wait,” he said, standing up and towering over you. “Does it mean you’re turned on too?”

You blushed even harder if it was possible. “Yeah, well, that’s what aphrodisiacs do…”

He closed his eyes and inhaled. “Fuck…you’re right. I can smell it…”

You cleared your throat awkwardly. “Yeah, well…Anyways, let’s get out of here.”

“No way, they will see my hard-on and I’m never going to live it down!” he groaned.

You fought your eyes from looking down. “That’s not important right now!”

“And they’ll smell you,” he added, making you halt. “My entire pack will know you came out of my room aroused.”

You muttered a hushed curse and sat down on his bed.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated timidly, sitting beside you.

“Stop apologizing,” you sighed. “We can still pass the class with what we have done so far.”

He didn’t say anything, staring at his lap.

“Hey,” you said, reaching for his hand. “I promise. I’m not mad. We’re still friends, okay?”

He gave you a weak smile and his thumb caressed your hand. 

“Now we only need to think of a way to get out of here without being seen,” you said, looking at the window.

“You’re not jumping out the window,” he deadpanned. “This is the third floor.”

You sighed, flopping on the bed with him following, lying down next to you.

 “The other option is going out when we’re not turned on anymore,” you said.

His hand squeezed yours involuntarily. 

“Oh,” he said. “Maybe it will wear off after…ya know…”

It took you a few seconds to understand what he was proposing.

“You’re suggesting we get off while the other is in the room?” you turned to look at him.

“I w-won’t look,” he promised.

You licked your lips.

“I won’t look either…”

His eyes widened and his ears turned red. 

“R-really? Are we gonna….oh my god…” he squirmed a little as he felt his member twitch.

“I mean…it wouldn’t be t-that different from that time…on the phone…” you whispered.

He groaned.

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t have a better idea,” you breathed out.

You stared into each other's eyes for a few seconds.

“Okay,” he whispered, letting go of your hand. “I’ll turn around,” he informed you, turning to his side with his back towards you.

You took a deep breath in and did the same.

You could feel each other's heartbeats when you were back to back.

“Ready?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah…”

You moved first, slowly sliding your hand into your pants. Your breath caught in your throat when you touched your pulsating clit and then you let out a shaky breath when your index teased it.

You heard him sigh and felt him move slightly. He tried to be quiet when his hand touched his dick, but when he heard the wet sounds of your hand caressing your folds he moaned.

You thrust a finger inside and a whimper escaped you. Yangyang groaned and you heard him whisper what sounded like ‘yes…’

He wasn’t being shy and you were able to hear and feel exactly what he was doing even without looking. 

Another finger entered you and you got lost in your fantasy, imagining it was him doing this to you as you heard his groans.

“Faster,” you accidentally said out loud and were about to apologize, mortified, but you felt him moving his hand faster as he moaned your name.

And you ended up matching his rhythm. 

You weren’t sure if it made a difference if you were looking or not. You were touching yourselves in the same room, back to back, at the same speed and very obviously thinking about each other.

“Are you close?” his question was directed to you, not caring about pretending anymore. “Y/N,” he called your name clearly when you didn’t reply. “Please tell me you’re close…”

“Y-yeah…” you replied shyly and he inhaled sharply.

“Touch your clit,” he instructed after a broken moan. “I’m touching my tip too.”

You whined, using your other hand to draw circles on your clit and your orgasm washed over you. You came with a sob and your body tensed while he murmured profanities and grunted behind you.

“Fuck…” you murmured when you were able to see straight again, still feeling your pussy clenching.

“Fuck…” he agreed, trembling slightly.

“I think it didn’t work…” you admitted.

“Yeah,” he agreed again, and you could feel that he was still palming himself. “I’m still hard as fuck…”

“What do we do?” you whined, tiredly.

“Let’s keep going,” he proposed with no hesitation, still moving his hand behind you. “One more should do…”

“Or…” you trailed off.

“Or?”

“We could…touch each other?” you spoke barely above a whisper but he heard you loud and clear because he turned around and sat up quickly.

“What?!” he asked.

You groaned, embarrassed. “Forget it, it was dumb…”

“No, no, it’s not dumb,” he cooed, patting your back.

You shook your head.

“Y/N, please,” he sighed. “I heard you the first time, but I want to be sure I got it right. You want to touch me?”

You still refused to reply or look at him.

“Because…I would like to touch you…” he confessed quietly. “I would like that a lot…”

Slowly you sat up and made eye contact with him. Your cheeks were burning just like the rest of your body, due to arousal and embarrassment. 

“Really?” you asked equally quietly.

“Really,” he said. “So what’s the plan?”

You took a deep breath in before speaking again.

“We can help each other,” you bargained, trying not to lose focus as you watched a drop of sweat travel down his neck. “We’re friends, after all. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Yangyang gulped.

“Yeah, we’re just friends,” he spoke shakily. “Just two friends affected by a dumb plant.”

“Exactly,” you nodded, breathing heavily. “It’s normal to be horny. It’s the plant. It’s not because we like each other.”

“Totally. It’s not like I imprinted on you when we first met or something,” he mumbled, fixated on the way your lips moved.

“…What?”

“What?”

“Did you just say you imprinted on me?” you frowned.

He averted his gaze, clearing his throat. “I said it’s not like I did,” he replied. “Meaning I didn’t.”

“Okay,” you conceded, sitting closer, “then it should be fine, right?”

“I think it would be more than fine,” he assured you, though he sounded strained, not fine at all. He closed his eyes when he felt your fingertips on his jaw.

 “What do you wanna do?”

“Is there anything you’re not comfortable with?” you asked.

 “Anything you wanna do’s okay,” he said, locking eyes with you.

You lowered your hand so it was now on his neck. “Anything?” you purred, applying only a little bit of pressure and watching in awe how he rolled his eyes and groaned.

“A-anything…” he repeated.

“But what do you want to do?” you asked, allowing your hand to go lower, using your nails to tease him over the material of his shirt sticking to his chest.

“Y/N…”

“Is there nothing you wanna do to me?” you teased, lifting his shirt a little and placing your palm on his lower belly. You were also looking for reassurance. You would feel like a loser if you were thirsting over your friend when he hadn’t fantasized about you once.

“I–I don’t know,” he lied. If only you knew all the things he wanted to do to you.

“Hm…I guess you don’t want this enough,” you sighed, starting to withdraw your hand but he quickly grabbed it and placed it right on his crotch. “Y-yangyang?!”

Instead of replying, he forced your hand on him harder with a strangled moan and you felt something hard twitching right against your palm before even more wetness spread on the fabric of his sweatpants.

“Oh, my god, Yangyang…” you whispered in disbelief, gently pulling your hand away to inspect the sticky substance on it. “Just like that?”

He didn’t even try to deny it. “I…uh…I’ve been exposed to the plant for too long, I guess…Sorry…”

“Are you feeling better–Oh!” you gasped when he suddenly pulled you on top of him.

“Are you kidding me?” he groaned, hiding his face in the crook of your neck while hugging your waist. “I just came in my pants, feeling the warmth of your hand while looking at you– I’ve never been hornier!”

How he admitted to it so openly made you blush. “Should we do more, then?”

You felt him nod. And before you could ask what was next, the muscle of his thigh flexed under you, causing you to let out a surprised gasp. He tensed at the sound, holding his breath and waiting patiently for your next move. Only when you moved your hips and he heard you moan weakly did he dare to exhale.

“Y/N, are you–? Oh god, oh god…” he breathed out against the sensitive skin of your neck, in utter disbelief because there was no way the woman of his dreams was riding his thigh. 

“Is this okay?” you asked nervously, slowing your hips down just in case you were doing something he wasn’t comfortable with, but he whined, holding your hips and guiding them to move again.

“It’s so okay,” he quickly assured you. “Use my thigh all you want…”

“J-just once, okay?” you told him, but you were actually trying to convince yourself.

He didn’t reply, too busy bouncing you on his leg and getting lost in your little sounds.

“Hmm?” he asked absentmindedly, placing a wet kiss on your collarbone.

“I s-said this is– Yangyang!” you grabbed onto his shoulders for support and arched your back, feeling like you were about to explode.

“Yeah?” he breathed out, nibbling on your earlobe.

“I’m cumming–” you barely managed to whisper.

“Do it,” he urged you, helping you move faster, “do it, do it, c’mon, it’s gonna feel really good, baby, c’mon–,” he stopped mid-sentence and his eyes widened when he finally witnessed the beauty of having you cum right in front of his eyes. He had imagined it plenty of times, but he could never picture it right; he had no idea your voice could get this high-pitched, that your pupils would dilate this much, that you would feel this hot and wet on top of him…God, all his fantasies were wrong, so wrong, they could never do you justice. He had to memorize every single detail and never get off to anything else.

You were still coming down from your high when you felt a pair of warm lips on yours, soft and gentle. Yangyang was kissing you. Your platonic friend who stole your fries and called you a bro.

With a sudden yelp, you pushed yourself off him, standing up.

“What?!” he asked.“What’s wrong?”

“You kissed me!”

“...Yeah, and?”

“You can’t do that!” you exclaimed.

“You said we should help each other out!” he reminded you.

“Yes, but as friends,” you explained like it was obvious. “Kissing is too…intimate for friends.”

Yangyang stared at you with wide incredulous eyes. “Kissing is too intimate but humping my leg isn’t?”

“Yangyang, you don’t just kiss anyone!”

“You don’t fuck yourself on just anyone’s thigh either!”

“Right, but–,” you sighed and decided to come out clean. “I worry that if I kiss you I could end up feeling a bit confused.”

He looked up at you and listened attentively. “Confused how?”

“Like,” you tried to organize your thoughts while your body was burning up and a hot guy with a raging boner in front of you. “What if I like it?”

He stared at you, waiting for an explanation of how that would be a problem, scoffing when you didn’t elaborate. “God forbid you have a good time in a consensual sexual experience,” he mocked. 

“I mean, what if I like it too much?” you clarified.

“What does that even mean?” he groaned, accommodating his hard-on and trying to understand the words coming from your mouth.

You were starting to get frustrated too. How could you explain properly that you were scared of falling even more for him while you were clenching at the view?

“Just no kissing, okay?” 

He frowned and looked at your lips, mulling it over. He didn’t understand, nor did he like it, but he agreed regardless. “Whatever you’re comfortable with,” he finally said. “Anything else is off limits?”

“Do you have a condom?”

He shook his head.

“Then we should probably avoid penetration,” you said. “I’m not on the pill or anything like that so…”

“Right,” he gulped. “Let’s be careful. Anything else?”

You tried hard to think of more things, but your brain was foggy and everything was too hot, too suffocating.

Yangyang was feeling it too and he didn’t have the patience to wait for your entire list of forbidden things. “Y/N, my dick hurts,” he spoke with difficulty, pressing his palm on his crotch to relieve the discomfort. “Just tell me!”

You gulped and pressed your thighs together. “I uh…can’t come up with anything right n-now…thinking is h-hard…”

“Y/N, please,” he whimpered between elaborate breaths.

“How about you name something and I tell you if it’s okay or not?” you proposed. It should be easier this way.

“Can I fuck your tits?” he asked immediately.

You gasped and felt yourself get wetter at the suggestion. Yes, you told him to say what he wanted, and you knew he was blunt, but he had never been this blunt.

“What? Too intimate for you?” he asked half-seriously, half-mockingly.

“N-no, it’s…it’s fine,” you replied. “But how do we do it?” you asked nervously.

“Lie down,” he instructed with no hesitation, like he had thought about this too many times. 

You complied and got back on the bed, nervously lying down and waiting to see what he would do next. 

He slowly climbed on top of you and you felt your heart beat so hard and fast you worried it would break through your ribcage and escape your body. Yangyang was on top of you. Sweating, desperate for you, and his eyes looked at you with something you could have easily confused with love in a different situation. 

With shaky hands he grabbed the hem of your shirt and started pushing it up, pausing when his fingertips touched the lace of your bra. He held his breath and his eyes met yours silently asking ‘Is this okay?’ and continuing when you bit your lip and nodded.

He barely grazed over your covered breasts when he finished wrinkling the fabric of your shirt near your neck and his dick twitched excitedly and the view of your hardened nipples under the thin material of your bralette.

“Y/N…” he whispered just to savor your name, humping your stomach in an almost unperceivable way. “Can I?”

“Just do it,” you whined, maybe wanting this more than him.

He nervously placed his hands on top of your breasts and let out a needy moan when he finally felt your softness and warmth in his palms. “M-maybe I’ll cum like this,” he commented. And he was totally serious because he was leaking again.

“No!” you said too quickly. “You said you’d fuck them,” you whined, arching your back and pushing your tits further into his touch, making him squeeze harder.

“Yeah? Want that?” he asked breathily, delighted at how quickly you nodded. “Shit, okay, okay…” he said, letting go of your chest and standing up to step out of his pants and boxers.

You used the opportunity to quickly take off your shirt and bra, too eager to be used and very pleased to see him freeze when he looked back at you and saw you half undressed. His jaw hung open and he just couldn’t look away. After all this time stealing glances at your clavicle and fighting his boner every time you hugged and he felt your boobs against his chest, you were willingly showing them to him. And he was about to fuck them.

“F-fuck…” he breathed out, straddling your chest. “Can I really?”

“Yangyang,” you whined, hitting his arm. “How many times do I have to say it?”

“One more?” he asked hopefully.

You rolled your eyes, but you were getting impatient enough to humor him. “Will you fuck my tits or not, Yangyang?”

He groaned, grabbing his base firmly to stop what wanted to come out. He took a deep breath in and positioned his member between your breasts, letting out a shaky breath when it slid on your skin, trapped between your boobs as you pushed them together.

“Shit, Yangyang…” you gulped when the tip of his cock got a little too close to your chin. “You’re kinda…”

“What?” he half-moans, sliding back and forward slowly.

“Big,” you whisper in disbelief.

He snorts, continuing the slow rhythm of his hips. “Perks of being a werewolf,” he shrugged. “This is average…”

“No way,” you laugh too, gasping when he pinched one of your nipples playfully.

“I swear,” he said half-laughing, half moaning as he accelerated his movements slightly. Everything felt so relaxed and fun with Yangyang. 

So natural.

“Mm…Bet you would fill me up so good…” you commented absentmindedly, actively daydreaming at this point.

He halted, looking at you with wide eyes. “What did you just say?!”

“That you…would fill me up good?” you repeated, blinking up at him.

Oh, so he heard you well. 

“Y/N, are you trying to kill me?” he asked.

“It was just a thought,” you mumbled.

“...Are you thinking about it right now?”

“Can you blame me?” you asked back. Of course you were. How could you think about anything else in this situation?

He groaned, thrusting hard. “Yeah? Do you imagine me inside of you moving like this?”

A soft moan escaped your mouth and you nodded, feeling droplets of hot precum land on your chest.

“Fuuck…it’s a shame we can’t,” he honestly lamented, rutting faster. “I really wanna…”

“Yangyang,” you called his name, your hands leaving the sides of your boobs to reach for his hands. “Yangyang, wait.”

He whined, looking at you in panic. What if you changed your mind and wanted nothing to do with him? He would cry. He would cry all night.

You pushed him lightly, making him stand up next to the bed as you sat up, and oh my god he really was about to cry because it looked like this was the end, until…

“Hold them,” you instructed, placing his hands where yours were before, on each side of your breasts. “Push them together, okay?” 

He nodded. Anything you said as long as you didn’t actually make him stop. He shuddered when one of your hands caressed his hip bone, and then he noticed where your other hand was going…all the way down your stomach.

“Oh god,” he gasped, finally understanding the new position with him standing in front of you and you sitting on his bed, touching yourself. He bent his knees slightly to slide his cock back where he wanted and his eyes rolled back when he pressed your breasts together so tight that his tip released a tiny stream of white liquid. “ I love your tits so much,” he blurted out, resuming his chase for pleasure.

“Is that why you’re always staring at them?” you teased, tapping your clit.

“Y-you knew?” he asked nervously. Fear flooded his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Instead, he thrust up faster, moaning uncontrollably.

“You d-don’t even try to hide it,” you reply, moving your fingers faster.

“I didn’t mean to stare,” he whined. “They’re just pretty.”

“Yeah?”

“Y-yeah, so pretty–Oh!” he moaned loudly when he felt something hot and wet touching his tip. You had opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, meeting his dick when he thrust up. “Y/N, fuck, fuck, are you for real?!”

You licked around the tip messily and that was all the answer he needed, he threw his head back and rutted against your soft skin once, twice–

“Oooh…Nngh….shit…” he moaned, letting go of your breasts and trying to focus his gaze as he looked down and saw you wrapping your lips around his tip, sucking softly. “You’re so fucking hot…”

When the taste of his cum invaded your tastebuds you felt another orgasm hit you and you moaned around him, while your thighs shook.

“I love you.”

You let go of his dick and looked up at him. His eyes met yours as he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“What did you say?” you croaked.

He seemed to snap out of it, blinking and pulling his hand back, taking a step back as well. “Nothing,” he said quickly.

You tilted your head. You heard him say he loved you. It was his voice…

“Are you sure?”

“Yep,” he said, looking away awkwardly.

… Maybe the plant had hallucinatory effects too?

The tingling sensation in your center told you it wasn’t enough, and that immediately made you go back to solving the issue of why you both were half undressed in the first place. “Yangyang, I think I need more…”

“Oh, thank god. I’m still hard,” he sighed, kneeling in front of you and leaning in for a kiss before he quickly stopped himself, remembering the limits you had set. “Sorry, I forgot.”

You licked your lips and looked at his face. He wasn’t as red as before, and you also weren’t feeling as feverish as before. “I think it’s wearing down though. Maybe we just need one more.”

He nodded. “We can just rub one off quickly.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, lowkey hoping he meant you would do it to each other and not to yourselves.

“Or…” he hesitated.

“Yes?” you asked eagerly.

“We could– uh… I could…” he gulped, losing his confidence as his mind was getting clearer. “I dunno how to explain but, can I try something?”

“Sure,” you breathed out.

“Can you take your pants off?” he asked timidly, surprised when you did it immediately.

“Now what?”

His chest rose and fell heavily. He pushed you back until you were on your back on the bed again and he positioned himself between your legs pressing your bodies together and groaning at the wetness of your panties now sticking to his dick too.

“Oh, yes,” you moaned, arching your back and pushing your hips closer to his. “Best idea you’ve ever had–”

“No, I meant–wait,” he interrupted you and stilled your hips. He lifted the hem of your panties right where your inner thigh met your center, just enough for him to slide his dick under them and rest it directly on your wetness.

You gasped, grabbing his arm quickly. “Yangyang!”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he assured you. “I won’t put it in,” he explained, placing one of his hands on top of where his dick was nested, pressing down but leaving enough space for him to thrust his hips. He did it once, showing you how the little trap he had made with your panties and his hand allowed his cock to slide against your clit deliciously. “Like t-this…okay?”

You nodded quickly. “Y-yes, yes–Oh!”

He sighed in relief, sliding against you more earnestly. “Feel good?”

“So good,” you admitted, opening your legs wider for him. “Wish you were inside though–” you blurted out.

His cock twitched and he groaned, snapping his hips harder. “Yeah? I d-don’t think friends do that haa…ah…”

You shook your head, moving your hips to match his rhythm. “They don’t,” you breathed out.

“I don’t think they do anything we’ve done in the past hour either,” he continued.

Again, you shook your head. “B-but it feels so good…”

“Yeah? You like your friend’s cock rubbing your pussy?”

You were about to reply when Yangyang’s harsh thrusts got a little out of control and you felt something poke your entrance just enough to have you clenching around it. You moaned and he quickly pulled away.

“S-sorry, it slipped,” he said anxiously. “W-we can stop–”

“Again,” you begged, trying to pull him back on top of you.

“Y/N, we can’t–”

“Just a little,” you bargained.

He stared at you, dumbfounded, and then shook his head, as if he was trying to wake himself up. “We’re not w-wearing protection and–”

“Just the tip,” you insisted.

He groaned. “Y/N–”

“Please?”

You stared into each other's eyes, knowing damn well that you were not thinking clearly, but not caring at this point. Silently, he grabbed his dick and placed it right where you wanted it, pushing just enough for you to engulf his tip and have both of you moaning wantonly.

“This is a t-terrible idea,” he mumbled, pulling out and pushing back inside, driving himself (and you) crazy. It wasn’t enough, yet it was so good.

“It’s okay–ah!” you tried to excuse your poor choices. “We’re j-just ooh…helping each other out–AH!”

“Uhuh,” he nodded, building up his rhythm and switching between thrusting the tip in and sliding against your clit. 

“Fuuuuck– You’ll be ascended to best f-friend for this, Yangyang–”

“Oh, hell nah. Fuck that.”

Just like that, Yangyang’s lips were on yours again. This time very on purpose.

“Y-yangyang w-wait,” you whined, though you were responding to his kiss too actively, sucking on his bottom lip eagerly. “Told you it’s gonna b-be confusing if we–oh!”

“Drop the act, Y/N,” he said between kisses. “Are you telling me you see me as a friend after all this?”

You whimpered. Was it that obvious?

“We’re not fucking friends,” he panted. “You’re not gonna push me deeper into the friendzone when your pussy is trying to suck me in like this.”

“B-but you said–”

“I lied, okay?” he confessed. “Yeah, I imprinted on you. No, I don’t wanna be just friends. And yeah, I know kissing you will make things even more confusing,” he admitted, rubbing and pressing his cock on your clit harder to have your eyes roll back as he continued kissing you. “I want to confuse the fuck out of you until you think you like me back. I don’t give a fuck if it’s unfair. I like you too much–no. I love you –oooh, fuck, fuck,Y/N!”

Your heart skipped a beat at the confession and a dumb smile formed on your lips and then he moaned and grabbed both your hands, positioning them around the base of his cock and holding them there as something started to grow.

“Oh my god…,” you sat up with difficulty staring in disbelief. “Is that your knot?”

He nodded wordlessly, applying pressure on your hands to signal you to squeeze there, hard. When you did he closed his eyes, his body tensed as he spilled spurts of cum on your center, smearing it all over your folds.

You kept squeezing and massaging the inflated base as he whimpered and thrust his hips up weakly. Finally, cum stopped coming out and he sighed.

You didn’t even have time to worry about your still pending orgasm, too preoccupied with processing his earnest confession, and by the time you reacted, he had already crawled down and taken your panties off.

“Shit,” he mumbled. “I made a mess…” caressing your labia and ironically making the sticky mess worse. “Lemme clean it,” were his last words before he slid his tongue between your folds.

Your hands quickly grabbed onto him, pulling his hair to get him closer to where you needed him the most. “Yes, Yangyang, please–”

“What the fuck you taste amazing,” he mumbled against your center, licking incessantly. 

“That’s your own c-cum,” you laughed, interrupted by a moan when he tried to talk while still attached to your  pussy.

“Mixed with yours,” his words were muffled as he moved his lips and tongue lazily to collect as much wetness as he could. “So good together…”

“Yangyang,” you spoke shakily, pulling harder to get him to your clit which he seemed to be avoiding on purpose. “N-not there, here…”

He kept lazily lapping at your inner labia, ignoring your instructions. “I’m helping you clean, like a good friend.”

“No, no, no, please make me cum,” you begged shamelessly. Your climax was so close you could taste it but he was playing with you.

“I dunno,” he detached himself from you and rested his face on his palms, locking eyes with you. “Making you cum with my mouth is too intimate for me…”

“You fucking–AH!” your complaint was cut short when he flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue just once, making you squirm desperately. “Yangyang, come on!”

“But what if you get confused?” he teased, swirling his tongue around your clit slowly.

“P-please, please, please, oh!” you sobbed when he stopped again.

“You sound confused, Y/N,” he cooed, kissing your inner thigh. “ Wouldn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Fuck our friendship!” you finally yelled. “I like you. I like you so much. Kiss me, eat me out, fuck me as much as you want, please just do something…Oooh!”

He finally shoved his face between your legs and engulfed your clit with his lips, sucking, allowing you to guide his head however you wanted. He hummed in delight at your confession, determined to make you cum harder than ever to reward your honesty.

“Yes, yes, yes, Yangyang, don’t stop, please, right there ah, ah, ah!” you beg, thrusting your hips up.

You felt him chuckle and it was enough for you to reach your orgasm with a silent scream, arching your back and shaking while he lapped your juices eagerly.

And then you felt a sharp pain in your inner thigh.

“AH! What the fuck, Yangyang!” you exclaimed, sitting up rapidly and catching him with his teeth sunk into your soft skin. 

His eyes widened at your reprimand, and he switched to licking the wound in a comforting manner.

“Why did you bite me?!”

“Got carried away. Sorry…”

Well, at least he didn’t cum inside you, just like you had agreed on. But you hadn’t considered that you two may end up tied up together in other ways.

“Yangyang…does it mean we are–?”

He looked at your panicked eyes and then back at his mark on your body.

“Maybe? I…I don’t know?” he said nervously. “Normally we bite our mates on their neck or somewhere around that area.”

“Then this one probably doesn’t count, right? We aren’t bonded or anything,” you lied to yourself. You knew it made zero sense that a mating bite only worked in a specific area of your body, but you were in no condition to process that you were bonded for life after your not-so-platonic crush ate you out in a house full of werewolves.

He caressed the wounded area lovingly. Something that felt weirdly like electricity traveled from his fingertip which was in contact with your skin all over his body, making him shudder and inhale sharply. He was 89% sure you were bonded, but he ignored his instinct to give you the answer you wanted. 

“I guess it doesn’t work if it’s not on your neck.Maybe.”

“Okay, cool,” you sighed, letting your body finally relax now that the horniness was gone.

“Cool,” he echoed, biting his lip nervously. “So uhh…Wanna grab something to eat?”

“That pizza place down the street?” you suggested tiredly.

“Sure,” he said, standing up and grabbing his pants. He said the next part carefully. “It’s a date.”

You smiled to yourself, trying not to laugh at his nervousness. “Yeah, it’s a date.”

Yangyang could have died a happy man right there and then. He got dressed quickly and helped you sit up and get dressed too. He looked at your exhausted face and he found it endearing, especially with how it lit up after he gave you a soft peck.

You both would deal with the failed botany project later and the fact that everyone in the house probably knew what you did.

…And with the very real bite on your thigh that you both refused to acknowledge for now.

[pearlywritings]

The scent of being mine

synopsis: lately your husband has been staying deep in his thoughts as if bothered by something. It's only natural you want to figure it out and help.

pairing and characters: Neuvillette x fem!reader

tw: established relationship (marriage), tiny hurt/comfort, draconian features (scenting, growling, implied sharp nails)

word count: 3k+ words

“Beloved, you are brooding. More than you usually are.”

Your comment snaps Neuvillette from his thoughts, long lashes fluttering in surprise. He blinks, primordially beautiful eyes finally focus on the document in front of him, and the man makes a frustrating discovery - he’s been staring at one single line of text for who knows how long.

“Beloved?” Your sweet voice soothes the momentary disappointment, and Iudex’s undivided attention is on you in a second. 

“Yes, my dear? My apologies, I didn’t quite catch what you said. Could you be so kind and repeat, please?”

You lower the book onto your lap, and the man can’t help but relish in the sight of you comfortably lounging on the sofa in his office at the Palais Mermonia, with your shoes neatly put near one of its legs and your legs hidden under the light embroidered plaid. Your back and side sink into multiple pillows, half of which he fetched for you previously from the second sofa, and you look pleasantly relaxed within the walls of his work space, knowing very well that he has no meetings scheduled for the day, and the only people who can enter his office are the melusines with document delivery. And who would be uncomfortable in the presence of their own ‘daughters’?

“I was saying that you are brooding. And It won't be superfluous to note your sour mood too,” you nod in the window’s direction, where the sky is cloudy and gloomy. It has been this way for a couple of days already. “I wasn’t bringing it up since I thought you were simply a bit stressed, but after observing you for some time, I am sure there’s something on your mind that’s been bothering you immensely.”

Neuvillette exhales deeply. How could he ever hide anything from the woman he’s been married to for so long? Not that he ever tried, but subconsciously he sometimes tends to push his own worries aside not to make you fret. Besides, usually it’s not something of a big deal…

Watching the thoughts overtaking his mind again, you grab the bookmark from the armrest and soon the closed book takes its place, at the same time as you push the plaid off. Not caring to put the shoes on, you make a quick way to the grand doors to turn the key left in the hole from the inside. But changing your mind a little, you take a hold of a handle instead and crack the door slightly open, enough for the melusine at the reception to hear you.

“Sedene, sweety, Monsieur Neuvillette is taking a small break.”

You can’t quite see her perking up in her booth, but you know she is aware of what that means.

“Thank you for informing me, Madame. Would you like anything to drink or eat? I could send someone to put an order in whatever restaurant you’d like.”

“Much appreciated, but we’ll be fine.”

You hear her hum in understanding and only then close the door and lock it, turning the key two times.

“Now…” glancing back at your husband, you slowly walk back to your previous place of resting, but making it past the sofa and then around the desk, stopping right at his side. Neuvillette lifts his head, looking at you, and immediately pushes the chair back to make room. Gloved hands take a hold of your waist when you step closer and help you settle down onto his lap. One stays gingerly on your hip, the other is placed upon your knees, as you adjust your position, turning half-around to face him. Mesmerizing eyes with slitted irises stare at you with hardly-veiled adoration, and for a moment it almost fools you into thinking that nothing is wrong. Until he inhales and white eyebrows furrow slightly.

“Neuvi, what’s going on? Is it something I can assist you with?”

The man leans forward, pressing his face to your neck, silky locks of his fringe tickling you when he releases a breath. Your fingers find the back of his head, softly scratching the scalp, making him groan in satisfaction. His own digits flex, and you think you feel the claws digging slightly into your flesh through the dark material of his gloves and the skirt of your own clothes, and you let the dragon be a tiny bit greedy in expressing his affections.

“It’s not something I thought would bother me,” you hear him murmur into your neck. Instead of rushing to ask him to elaborate, you encourage him to take his time with a soft touch, gently following the pointy shape of his ear with your fingertip. The man shivers, but quickly relaxes, leaning into your body a bit more.

“Why logically I understand I’m in the wrong, but on an instinct level it doesn’t give me rest. Remember the celebration Lady Furina threw three days ago?”

Ah, of course you remember. It was a nice little feast the Archon organized to mark another successful staging of hers, to which your husband and you were obviously invited. You can’t, however, recall anything particular that could upset Neuvillette. He wasn’t offered anything to taste he didn't enjoy - had his own supply of fresh water even; he had no cases to worry about, having finished everything rather important beforehand, and he was not engaged in any interactions he could potentially be uncomfortable with. Maybe it was something related to you? However, you can’t think of anything: most of the time you spent conversing with Furina, discussing her next outstanding and grand performance, or dancing with your beloved, happily twirling in his embrace. Sure, other people approached you too, but…oh. Wait, there was something.

“Do you mean the celebration during which that opera performer from Li Yue was flirting with me?”

Immediately his body tenses and a low sound, kind of sounding like a growl, escapes his strained throat. He quickly composes himself though, once you drop your hand from his head to his back, drawing circles there.

“...I apologize for that.”

“Please don’t, I don’t mind a bit of jealousy,” you assure him, and the man finally leans back, looking at you with those fairytale eyes.

“You think it was jealousy?”

“Well, maybe right now it was just a bit of frustration, but back then I think it was jealousy,” Neuvilette hums, lowering his gaze, processing the information. You meanwhile decide to ask more. “But what sparked it? You know I am yours and that no human will ever be able to steal me from you.”

“Ah, my love, I am fully aware of that,” gloved palm leaves your knee and cups your cheek instead. “I know all that, but…but what I felt is hard to explain in words.”

“Try,” you encourage, turning your head and kissing his palm, “I’ll get it.”

“Alright,” with a sigh he lets his fingertips outline the contour of your jaw and travel down the side of your neck, sending a pleasurable sensation down your back. “I suppose I should start with what happened before, when we were still back home. You looked so ravishing and regal - a true gem to an eye, - and I just couldn’t help but let some of my scent linger on you.”

Which is absolutely fine, you love doing the same for him.

“Keeping that in mind I felt all those strange emotions wringing my heart, as he was giving you compliments, especially about the scent, not realizing it’s mine. And then more and more.”

As he doesn’t find what more to say, you stare at him, trying to analyze the information. After a couple of minutes of silence, during which you absent-mindedly braided a little braid out of his straight lock, you decide to summarize.

“So… If I understood you correctly, it felt upsetting that, basically, he caught the whiff of you on me, yet didn’t stop his attempts to hit on me. Am I right?”

“Exactly,” a small smile graces his pale lips, and Iudex presses a delicate kiss to your shoulder. “I could not have worded it better.”

“Hmm… Now I see why you are torn. It is annoying for sure, but it’s not like an ordinary human could know of draconian peculiar properties.”

He nods, thumbing at the pulse point on your neck, staring a little bit past you. His state is saddening, really, even though a tiny slither of pride infiltrates your heart - knowing your husband wants the world to know you are his as much as you want to claim the same about him… Would’ve made you purr if you were a feline.

You shiver when Neuvillette brings his face close again, soft lips pressing to the side of your neck.

“You are so dear to me, my love…” he breathes in a way that makes your heart skip a beat, voice full of unbridled devotion, something not many can hear from this stoic man throughout their whole life. “There are days when I can’t bear the thought of you not being close to me, I overcome with desire to be in your presence, to hold you in my arms, to listen to your divine voice… When you call my name, I want to bring everything I have to your feet.”

“But you already do so,” you cup his cheeks, kissing his forehead. “You don’t have to say all of it - you sound like you are apologizing, like you are trying to excuse your natural behavior. Don’t do it, please. You are so precious to me, I’d be damned if I ever felt unnerved by something like this.”

“I apologize if it sounded like this,” he sighs, long lashes flattering close, when you proceed to kiss over his eyelids. “I just meant to express how thankful I am that you chose me.”

“Oh, Neuvi,” you chuckle, kissing the bridge of his nose and when the tip of it. “I adore when you are so affectionate in private. As for the public display, if we return to the topic of scent… I think I could figure something out for the both of us. If you trust my judgment, that is.”

“How can I not?” Those eyes are staring back at you, bottomless pools swirling with wonder and elation. “Only if you truly want this.”

“I do,” your lips hover dangerously close to his. “And I will find the way.”

Soft thuds rhythmically yet quite leisurely cut through the lofty noises of the Court of Fountaine, catching the attention of the passersby. One hit of an elegant cane against the pavement equals two steps of yours, as you and your husband walk through the main square of the city. Your appearance - no matter together or by yourself - always gathers attention, and you could bet that if Fontaine didn’t have a law prohibiting photography of executives without their permission, your picture would’ve adorned tomorrow’s copy of The Steambird.

And you are a sight to behold - your hand resting in the crook of his elbow, gloves matching perfectly his today’s cravat of choice, jewelry specifically picked to mirror the beauty of their wearer’s partner, clothes tailored to clearly be a ‘couple outfit’... It is pretty evident that this outing is planned, if the Iudex’s absence from the Palais Mermonia didn’t serve as a clue.

You hold no conversation, rather relishing in the warm rays of sunlight (you did though tease Neuvillette upon stepping outside that his mood seemed to improve). Despite looking like it’s you who is clutching onto the man and him leading you somewhere, it’s completely vice versa. Your beloved has absolutely no idea what kind of ‘surprise’ he is soon to experience, but your previous words keep his mind at rest - you found a solution for his concern.

As a result, his high spirits are pretty apparent to the people who know him well. Or the melusines, if one is being accurate, who approach you two along the way with warm words of greetings and cute waves of their hands, which brightens Neuvillette’s features more evidently.

“I think we should soon visit the Merusea Village,” you suggest after bidding goodbye to Tristane. “And do a little gathering for our girls who work here, in the city. I am sure they have many stories to share with us.”

“I would really like that,” Neuvillette's smile is a heart-warming sight. You can only hope that you’ll get to see it more after today. “How about we start planning tomorrow after work?”

“That would be wonderful! I can’t wait to write an invitation to every single one. And to the village too.”

“Then it’s on you as always,” he agrees without objection, leaning a little to subtly kiss your temple when you turn the corner. Letting out a soft chuckle, you give him a fond look, and then focusing back on the street.

It’s barely a couple of minutes later when your partner sees you perk up. Trying to pinpoint what caught your eye, the man scans the signboards of the shops and boutiques lining up at both sides of yours. Jewelry? No, he doesn’t think so - you adorn each other with fine gemstones regularly. Clothes? Doubtful, given you’ve just received a couple of new outfits a week before. Maybe it’s-

You disturb these wandering thoughts, tugging on his elbow to catch his attention. Looking at you and then following the direction of your raised hand, Neuvillette lifts his eyes to read the signboard above the shop you’ve stopped in front of.

“Palais des parfums”

“So,” you start when he gives you a questioning look, “it’s a perfumery, yes. And my suggestion is the following - let’s choose a scent we could wear together. Before you get concerned about it becoming too popular, because we will use it, this shop has an option of creating something personal. We can just pay a little more to make it exclusive.”

“The same…scent?” Your husband hums, touching his chin in thought. This actually sounds quite good - created by a human master, it is to be perceived by humans, and by utilizing one fragrance on you both it will be made clear that the two of you are spouses. Not to mention the newspaper that will spread the fact for others to know. “My dear, that’s a marvelous idea.”

“Really?” A wide smile lifts the corners of your lips.

“Really. I like it a lot,” he assures you with a smile of his own. “And I do favor the possibility of making perfume specifically for us. How did you know though, my love?”

“Have done my research. And already spoke to the vendor before. Furthermore, I think we can order the creation of two perfumes. One for every day, and one for grand events where our presence is required.”

“I see you’ve done your research indeed,” his words are soft and gaze is full of admiration. It’s so hard to resist and not kiss him right in the middle of the street, yet let your fingertips gently scratch his forearm.

“I promised my husband a solution, didn’t I? Couldn’t disappoint you.”

“You can never disappoint me, if anything you astonish me every single day of our lives. Shall we get inside?”

“We shall. Just please, beware, there are a lot of fragrances mixed in the air. I am afraid your nose will be assaulted just like mine was.”

“I can bear with it, beloved. I would be a coward of a husband, if I turned back after the amazing work my wife did,” your cheeks heat up at his praise and you lightly dig your covered nails into his arm.

“Oh, stop it, no need to be so sweet, I already understood your appreciation for this,” your eyes motion to his hand resting on the hilt of the cane and fingers joyfully tapping against the wood. With a barely audible chuckle, the man unhooks your arms, wrapping his around your waist, and steps forward, reaching for the handle.

A soft chime caresses his ears, as the maddening mix of scents hits him right in the nose. Glancing to the side to check on you, he notices how you instantly switch to breathing through your mouth and follows your example. It, thankfully, gets better.

The shop owner is not hard to find, a sweet lady in her late 50’s welcomes you with a glint in her eyes upon recognizing you, which soon is replaced by the look of surprise when she sees your companion.

“Good afternoon, Monsieur, Madame, how can I help you?”

“Good afternoon, Mrs Deschamps,” you greet her with a smile, “I came by two days ago, remember?”

“Yes, yes, how could I forget our dear Madame? You were curious about my perfumes and if I do personal orders.”

“Right! This is my husband,” you motion to the man still courteously holding your waist, who bows in greeting.

“Pleasure to be meeting you.”

“O-oh! How could I not know you and your husband? Your wedding was the event of the century!”

“Haha, you flatter us,” you chuckle merrily, covering your mouth. “We are here to put in an order. We’d love to buy a newly crafted perfume. However, we have a couple of conditions…”

It’s almost evening when the doorbells chime again, marking your departure. Once again walking side by side and with arms linked, Neuvillette feels an almost primordial satisfaction. These hours spent in that stuffy, smelly box of a shop will be absolutely worth it when your order is complete. While he does feel the inevitable approach of a runny nose after test-smelling way too many fragrances, and it doesn’t feel like he left work today at all, as he was handling legal documents relied to the exclusivity of the product, he doesn’t regret a single mora spent and to be spent in the future for this.

Soft thuds once again cut through the sounds of the city, and they are gently lulling your mind. Maybe your head hurts just a little bit, but it pales in comparison to the invested state of your husband and how much evident fun he had in meticulously choosing the right aromatic notes to your future shared scent.

You can’t wait to help him apply it every single morning to come and get the same treatment in return. This is going to be a new, hopefully a long-staying option to your usual scenting routine.

taglist: @meimeimeirin

[bellatrixscurls]

𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝐢 / d.m & t.n.

cw ⇢ eventual smut (in another part). established relationship (theo and reader), italian pet names, talk of kinks (very brief), draco being draco, crying, female reader (has no specific eye, skin or hair colour), reader calling herself an idiot multiple times.

summary ⇢ y/n begins falling in love for draco, but her love for theo only seems to grow at the same time.

a/n ⇢ i loved writing this. please let me know if you have any suggestions and if you liked it, so i can know to write more parts. ♡

Draco Malfoy can be quite a lot sometimes.

Some days he just glares at anyone who dares walk past him, Merlin forbid they speak to him. Some days he’s a cocky bastard, making fun of everything and everyone.

Either way, things have to go his way.

Then why are you so drawn to him? It makes your head ache as you look for an answer. He is the epitome of rudeness, yet-

“Hello there, dolcezza” you freeze as your train of thought is interrupted by a deep, very familiar voice. Your boyfriend.

He sits beside you on the couch, spreading his arms on the back of it. He gives you a confused look, brows furrowing as you put your feather down, notebook long forgotten on the armchair.

“Hi” you say almost shyly. You cannot help the way Draco makes you feel, but you know that’s not fair to Theo. He’s an amazing boyfriend and he treats you so well all the time, even when he’s having a rough day. You just can’t help it.

He lights up a cigarette, taking a long drag off it and blowing it out of the corner of his mouth. Merlin, you could look at him all day long.

“You look troubled” he whispers sweetly, his free hand encircling your waist and pulling you to him, so gently like he didn’t even mean to touch you in the first place. “What’s wrong, amore?”

You sigh. How could you make it sound… even decent? How could you tell your boyfriend that you like someone else too. You could, but that would mean losing him, and quite frankly you don’t want to. It’s such a weird feeling, a feeling you’ve never experienced before.

So you choose the easy way out.

“Oh, it’s just… Slughorn’s given us some more work to do. Like the seven page essay on Dementors wasn’t enough.”

A lie.

Theo nods slowly, squeezing your waist just slightly. “What do potions have to do with Dementors?”

“Oh, just- just that-… See, nothing! That old man, I think it’s time he retires already. Don’t you?!”

And then there’s silence, and your stomach churns. You are such an idiot, and you sure do feel like one. Because who on Earth would lie to their perfect, sweet boyfriend?

“Okay… Can I just stay here, with you, until you finish it?” he asks and his voice is so soft that it has you melting. When you nod, he throws his head back on the sofa, looking up at the ceiling, looking like he’s deep in thought.

Merlin, you feel awful.

♡

The next morning, when you enter the Great Hall, all of your friends are already there. And Theo. And Draco.

They are sat across the table from your usual spot, laughing at something Draco’s said about Potter. Of course.

You sit down, quietly greeting Pansy, Blaise and an amused Mattheo who is eyeing you.

“Seems like someone had a rough night” he says, a wide smirk spreading across his face. “Good morning, starshine. The Earth says ‘hello!’”

But before you even get the chance to open your mouth and dismiss Mattheo, Theo notices your presence and he smiles a soft smile. “Are you feeling better, principessa?”

Your eyes meet his and it’s almost like it is the first time. You feel so deeply for this boy, the thought of possibly (most definitely) hurting him kills you.

“Much better, Teddy” your hand covers his on the table, trying your best to ignore Malfoy staring at you. “Thank you for asking.”

And it’s like you can see the light return to his eyes, his gorgeous eyes.

You all go back to your plates, making small talk about the day to come and the awful amount of work for next week. But you still feel uneasy.

When you look up, your eyes lock with Draco’s. He’s been staring. And you also realize that he’s been awfully quiet this whole time. Draco Malfoy - awfully quiet.

He averts his gaze after a few moments, poking at the food on his plate.

Okay, now that is weird.

♡

The walk back to the common room, from your last class of the day, is peaceful. You struggle to keep your legs functioning as you walk down the stairs to the dungeons.

You hear footsteps behind you, but you don’t mind them. It might be just another student, eager to get back to their dorm and sleep for eternity. And boy, are you wrong.

The footsteps become louder and louder as said person reaches you, and you tense visibly when they speak up. “He doesn’t believe you, you know that?”

You look down at your hands, fiddling with your bag, but Draco quickly snatches it from you, throwing it over his other shoulder. “You do” he notes, eyeing you intensely, an amused smile adorning his face. “Aren’t you just a cruel little thing, hm? Lying to him with no shame. Always knew you were.”

“He told you?” your voice is small as you keep walking, not daring to look at him just yet.

Draco huffs, quite literally side-eyeing you. “I’ve known that guy since we were four years old. That pout doesn’t hide much…. so, what are you hiding?”

He looks at you with those piercing grey eyes, and you swear that your breathing stops for a second.

“It’s nothing too important” you whisper and he comes to a stop, urging you to do the same, tall, handsome frame leaning against the door of the common room.

“You told him of your embarrassing first time with Davidson. He has your period cycle on his calendar” he says coolly and your eyes widen. You don’t know if you’re more shocked about the fact that Theo told Draco these things or that he has the nerve to admit to it right now.

He laughs and pokes your side. “Yeah. What did he call you? Mistr- Ouch!” you slap him across the face without a second thought, immediately regretting it.

You cover your mouth with your hand and Draco covers his now red cheek, rubbing the skin as the grin on his face widens.

“I’m so sorry, Draco-” “I liked it.”

You stay there, mouth agape, completely dumbfounded as you look up at him. “What?”

“Come on. Davidson calls you tons of names and you laugh about it, but I’m the weird one?” does he enjoy leaving you speechless.

You stumble over your words and with one last smirk, he turn to whisper the password, and you follow him inside.

There, Draco sees a tired Theo, sprawled on the sofa. The wheels in his head start turning, but you can’t help but feel bad when you see your boyfriend.

He moves to sit up, legs wide and hands twitching at his sides when he sees you.

“She told me what’s wrong, Theo” Draco approaches him, a hand on his shoulder as he lets go of your bag, placing it beside your boyfriend. Your eyes widen, what’s he trying to do?

He turns to look at you for a mere moment, that damn smirk still there. “You tell him, okay? He deserves to know, Y/n/n.”

Theo stands up, an almost shocked expression on his face. “What do you mean? What did she say? What did you say, amore?” he turns to you, eyes sweet and understanding, hands engulfing you almost completely, but his eyes still on yours.

“I’ll leave you two to talk” Draco pats Theo on the back, blowing you a kiss that goes unnoticed by his friend, who is still worriedly looking at you.

He walks up the stairs to their dorm and when the door closes, Theo hugs you tightly, holding you to his chest as he places hard kisses on top of your head. “Whatever it is, principessa. Whatever it is that you did or said, you don’t have to hide from me” your lip starts quivering when you hear him. His voice is shaking and desperate, he’s on the verge of breaking down, and all because you choose to be an idiot instead of being honest. “You can tell me. I won’t judge you- I- Merlin, I will help you hide the body-”

“Teddy” you say desperately, raising your head from his chest, looking into his teary eyes. He relaxes against you and you cup his face, keeping him as close as you can whilst still looking at him. “I- I think I like someone else too. Not just you, I mean… I love you, but there’s someone else too and I don’t know what to do… I’m so sorry.”

You can feel his arms loosen against you and your eyes close tightly, preparing yourself for the worse. Theo is a sweet, understanding boy, but not even he could take that.

You expect him to leave, to break up with you, but instead he sits down and pulls you to sit on his lap, his fingers gently caressing your arms. “Amore…”

“I know. I feel like an idiot. I am an idiot” you sob against his chest, your hands shaking as he holds them in his own, kissing from your knuckles to the tips.

“You’re not an idiot, bella. I might be one though” he chuckles halfheartedly and you look up at him, pouting slightly. He kisses it away and you try to chase his lips, but he speaks again. “I always knew you liked Draco. I just… thought you might like me a bit more.”

You choke on a sob, lifting your head from his chest as you look at him incredulously. “No, Teddy. I do! I don’t just like you, I love you. I want you in every way. I promise” your throw your hands around his neck, your vulnerability causing his breath to hitch. “I know it might seem like I’m lying but… I know I should’ve been honest with you. I guess I just wanted to push those feelings away.”

“I understand… I think” he nods slowly, his ever so gentle hands rubbing your back. “But I don’t want you to ignore those feelings, tesoro. I don’t want to ever be in your way.”

He’s so vulnerable, so gentle, so Theo.

It makes you wanna kiss him, and you do. You press your lips to his and his fingers tangle in your hair, holding you to him. When he finally pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours. “I’m yours, if you’ll have me.”

“You have me cornered, amorina” he rubs the tip of his nose against yours and your heart explodes with happiness.

Your feelings for the other boy haven’t vanished, but one thing you know for sure : you’ll never give up on what you and Theo have.

[deathbxnny]

Hi! I really love your fic. Could you write oneshot reader x Viktor that reader has imposter syndrome and they blame themselves for little mistakes. How would Viktor comfort them?

The failed overachiever. | Viktor x Gn!Reader

I'm feeling a little better again healthwise, so I hope this is good, Anon! Thank you for your request and enjoy!<3

Content: Imposter syndrome, pre season 2 viktor, some angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, Reader is a genius, established romantic relationship, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

"Ah no, no, no! This just won't do!" You hiss out as you toss another paper filled with prototype scribbles in the trash. Working on your latest projects was already a painful drag, but it certainly didn't help that you just couldn't make up your mind. The equations you have come up with also seemed wrong. And the deadline to the showcasing was coming closer and closer!

Sleep was rare to find these days, mainly as you were stuck trying to chase a perfection you just simply never have found yet in your lifetime. An impossible feat you were unwilling to give up on no matter what. The many endless achievements that littered the walls of your laboratory were a clear statement to your deep desperation. You were practically renowned for your genius innovation and philosophies, but they never reached your mind. To you, they felt undeserving as in every one you could only see the flaws and mistakes you've made.

You couldn't escape the cycle of self hate you've trapped yourself in for years now... but that didn't mean that your dear boyfriend Viktor wasn't going to try and help you anyway.

Viktor narrowly dodged an incoming crumbled paper when he entered your laboratory late into the night. You hadn't left it in days now, and whilst it may have very well been hypocritical of him, he had come to bring you to bed. You used to do this often to him as well, way before the obsession for a flawless project had taken over you, but ever since you've been asked to present your latest projects at a inventors gala, things changed for the worst. He was already familiar with your rather self-destructive behaviors and was deeply concerned by them, another form of hypocrisy on his part, he supposed.

Tilting his head at your hunched over form, he carefully approached you, the sound of his cane making you hum weakly in acknowledgment. "Rough night?" He joked, although you found less amusement in it as you shook your head in disappointment. "I am simply enraged by everything! Every draft is worse than the last, and the deadline is in two weeks, and I have yet to finish a thing, and, and-" You let out a frustrated string of curses, before near swiping everything off your work desk. "I'm just... such a failure... nothing I do is good enough. Every mistake is a testament to how little I deserve my position as a scientist and professor."

Viktor frowned gently at your clear defeat, the tears in your eyes making his heart ache. He knew that feeling all too well. And he never wanted you to feel it, too. You were a genius beyond every measure. People followed your inventions like they were religion, always so eager for the latest news. Yet you never saw that part of your success. In fact, not an ounce of you believed you were successful by your own volition either. Every achievement and reward was just dumb luck to you.

"I don't think that's true." He started as he leaned down with great difficulty to grab some papers you had thrown away in rage. "And no one else does either. You're this generations genius. Everyone knows this... but you. And that's sad, my love." His words were soft and warm, the sweetness making you turn to look at him, whilst he sat down in a chair and flipped through your work intently like he always did. Patting his good leg, he invited you to sit in his lap, something that always made you nervous despite him making it clear that it didn't hurt him. Yet you indulged him this time without protest, desperate for some comfort.

He chuckled when you quickly hid your face in his neck, not wanting to embarrass yourself with the tears that were burning in your eyes. Pulling you close with his unoccupied hand, he pressed a kiss to your head and looked over your notes with a prideful glint in his eyes. "Your work moves and inspires thousands. Everyone knows of it and praises it like its gospel. You should be more kind to yourself... which may be hypocritical of me to say, but it's true nonetheless. Your work is perfection." "I don't think it is. The mistakes are so foolish that they are unforgivable." "Hardly." Leaning away, he made enough room to make you see the papers. "This is a flawless equation, and the design is impressive... may I watch you work on it? It would be an honor, my love." The man hummed, making you blink in surprise before you collected your ego and jumped up with a determined, yet flustered look on your face. "Well! If you really think that, then I suppose you can! But don't expect me to slow down for you!" You huffed out, making his smile widen. There you were. The prideful scholar he fell in love with so many years ago.

You began picking and setting things back up, your head turned away from him as you spoke. "... Thank you, by the way. I really needed to hear that." Viktor's eyes glowed with a warm, loving glow as he watched you, his heart full at watching you do what you loved the most.

"No need to thank me. I'll always be there for you."

[d1gitalwitness]

Siuan & Moiraine: Love and Justice in The Wheel of Time

I've been thinking a lot about Siuan's final speech in third season finale of The Wheel of Time, and I disagree with the reading that it centred Moiraine, when it was about Siuan's sense of justice, and what the Light means to her. It was also very clear for the most of the season, little of what Siuan did actually involved Moiraine - they were broken up (in a sense) but still did what they had to do respectively.

"Will you stand behind this woman who stands for nothing? Who loves nothing but power?"

Ever since Elaida's introduction, we learn that she wants the throne for herself not because she cares about the world, or even the prophecy - she wants it to establish a powerful title equivalent to her rank and that was it. There is nothing behind her ambitions, which is the darkest thing of all - even worse than Melindhra who swore to the dark because she wanted to save Malkier.

Siuan is different. She never wanted to become Aes Sedai, much less the Amrylin Seat. She comes a little fishing village and wears her Tairen tattoos proudly for everyone to see; she uses fishing metaphors even in official capacity; she decorates her room like a fishing hut and doesn't care what others think. This is who Siuan's father taught her to be - never to be ashamed of her identity, and always to wear her pride on her sleeve.

"So much for the Amrylin Seat remaining neutral without favourites. No life. No love of one's own. Nothing but the Seat."

The necessity of the Amrylin's indifference is not who Siuan is, who loved her father and never wanted to leave him, who loved Moiraine so deeply that she continued their affair knowing that it ran the risk of death. She made a choice to love Moiraine when it wasn't safe to do so, because this love is what gives her life meaning. Thematically, Moiraine and Siuan's love for each other is inextricable from their pursuit of justice - they are fighting for a future they may not get to see, but to be happy while the world rots is not something they stood for.

This is where Siuan differs from Elaida; Siuan is a ruler who loves and is loved in return, and White Tower laws do not allow room for that. The intractability of the White Tower will cause them to lost the last battle. They want to cage and gentle Rand - with good reason, of course - but this decision also means that they don't have faith that Rand can choose to do the right thing. They don't trust anyone and don't stand for anything but themselves. Moiraine, despite her ruthlessness, has come to trust that somewhere in the Dragon Reborn lies a good-hearted shepherd named Rand al'Thor.

For Siuan, the Amrylin must stand for something and someone. She cannot lead the world with indifference and selfishness. Notice that Siuan wishes that they never went to Gitara's study. For Moiraine and Siuan, the thought of knowing the truth and eloping never crossed their minds - maybe if they hadn't walked into the room, they would have eloped. But they were given the burden of knowledge, and they cannot abandon the world. It is perhaps true that Moiraine and Siuan only fell in love with each other because they recognised in each other a fundamental goodness. As Anvaere has said of Moiraine, the same can be said of Siuan.

"But there are two things my sister understands better than anyone; the difference between right and wrong, and how much harder it is sometimes to do what is right."

So when Elaida accuses Siuan of working with Moiraine - knowing damn well that these two were lovebirds - Siuan tells the truth. She loves Moiraine, and she won't be shamed - the laws of the Aes Sedai need to leave room for choice, for love, and for light. If they are to win the Last Battle, they need to change. Elaida is using the ugliness of tower laws fuel her dictatorship, and Siuan saw right through it. Elaida isn't a dark friend, but she doesn't know what the light means. Siuan does, because she loves and is loved. Her declaration of love isn't about Moiraine as much as it is about the indifference and cruelty of Aes Sedais. But Moiraine and Siuan's love for each other is what sustained them; they had the slightest of hopes that winning the last battle is what gets them closer to their dreams. It is crushing and moving and deeply heartbreaking.

“Everyone has a choice and every choice has a consequence."

People fall in love. And when they do, they care about the future that they have to live in. To have "nothing but the seat" is what Elaida embodies, and in her final hours, Siuan is warning Elaida that this tyranny and narcissism will rot her soul. Elaida's countenance of shock and surprise affirms this. Unlike her, Siuan stood for someone and something. She has more than Elaida ever would hope to gain. Siuan will never become a tyrant because she loves. To discount Siuan's love for Moiraine is to overlook the choice she made to love against the grain, even when it is the most dangerous thing she could do. As Moiraine has said, every choice comes with a consequence. Both of them knew they were living on borrowed time, but that is what enriches the love they have for each other.

There is a future where Moiraine is waiting for Siuan, but ultimately it can't be because they made a choice to forge a future for the whole world, even if it means forfeiting their happiness. Even if it means they won't live to see it. There is an extremely moving and earth-shattering bravery in that commitment.

[javiscigarette]

Ease

Javier Peña x f!reader

Requested:

requesting… daddy!javi comforting u after a stressful work day 👀 pls n thank

warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, fingering, squirting, spitting, spanking, a bit ass play (I cant resist), dirty talk, daddy!javi obviously, d/s dynamics obviously, extreme overuse of pet names and I'm not sorry, fluffy Javi deserves its own warning

w/c: 5.3k

a/n: the long overdue Javi fic is finally here lmao I wrote this very quickly and I haven't written for him in a long time so it may not be my best but I'm honestly just proud that I finally got something out :)) pls let me know if you like it!! ALSO! I reached 1.5k followers awhile ago which is just mind blowing so I just wanted to say THANK YOU to everyone who has joined me and continues to support me. This blog and all the friends I've made here have helped me through some pretty rough times and I'm forever grateful AHHH I just you all soo much!!

my masterlist

You’re not there to greet him when he opens the door. Usually you’d have a glass of whiskey in your hand for him, already a little tipsy from the glass you had for yourself earlier.

There’s a unpleasant shiver that runs down his spine as the thought of you being in some sort of danger immediately crosses his mind. But the sound of you puttering around in the kitchen gives you away. That and the haze of smoke and smell of burnt food wafting through the entire apartment. 

He kicks his shoes off and loosens his tie as he rounds the corner to the kitchen to find you standing in front of the stove, tending to what he assumes is some chicken in a pan. The exhaust fan on the range hood and the ceiling fan are working overtime, pushing the smoke out of the kitchen and through the open window. 

“Hi, bebita” Javi says as he enters the smokey kitchen. You don’t say anything in response, just give him a quick sideways glance before turning back to the stove. 

He crosses the room and moves to stand behind you. Maybe if he had seen the frown on your face, or the way your eyebrows are deeply creased in frustration, he would’ve said something very different. 

But he didn’t see. 

“Dinner smells delicious” he teases, squeezing your hips. He’s expecting a little chuckle from you, or at least an annoyed eye roll with a hidden smile. 

So he’s caught very off guard when you slam the spatula down on the counter with a loud, frustrated sigh.

“Well I’m sorry that I tried to make a nice meal. Guess I’m fuckin’ useless at that too.” 

You try to push yourself out of his grasp, but his grip only tightens. 

“Hey okay okay, easy.” Javi soothes, turning you around so you’re facing him. “What’s wrong, bebita?” he asks, his tone immediately switching from teasing to soft and tener.You puff out a heavy sigh, refusing to look up at him and staring at his white shirt stretched across his chest instead. 

All the thoughts about your horrid day at work that you’ve been trying to block out break the damn and come flooding back into your head; your boss telling you that you fucked up two different major tasks and refusing to tell you how to do them correctly, catching your coworkers gossiping about you in the breakroom, your computer dying right before you could save any of the work you had done for the day, and how you tried to come home and cook as a distraction but you clearly forgot about the chicken sitting on the stove and almost caught the house on fire. 

You hadn’t even noticed the tears welling up in your eyes until Javi is wiping away the ones that have brimmed over and slid down your cheeks. 

“Cariño…” Javi whispers, his tone drenched with concern. That’s all it takes. You instantly break down, falling forward into Javi’s chest as your whole body shakes as you sob, your tears wetting the crisp fabric of his shirt. 

You tell him everything in between wet gasps and uneven breaths, unloading everything at once. He just holds you through it, nodding along and giving you an occasional understanding hum while running his palms up and down your back until you finish talking. 

“Your boss is an asshole” is the first thing Javi says. “Your coworkers too” 

You respond with a pathetic sniffle. “I really fucked up though. And now everyone thinks I can’t do my job” 

"Bebita,” Javi starts, continuing to rub soothing circles on your back. “Everyone has tough days at work. It doesn't define your abilities or your worth. You're so much more than a single bad day."

You sniffle again, still leaning heavily against him for support. 

"It's just... I'm tired of feeling like I'm constantly failing."

Javi clicks his tongue and moves one hand to use two fingers to gently tilt your chin up, making you meet his easy gaze. 

"You're not failing, mi amor. Sometimes things don’t go as planned and that’s okay. You're learning and growing."

You wish he wasn’t so right all the time. Sometimes talking back to the false narrative that runs rampant in your head 24/7 is too much work. 

"I know”  you sigh, wiping away tears with the back of your hand. “It’s just hard not to let it get to me."

Javi's thumb brushes against your cheek, his touch gentle and comforting. 

"I understand. Just remember you're not alone in this. I’ll always be here for you, my sweet girl” 

You manage a weak smile, feeling a bit of warmth starting to seep back into your heavy heart. 

“Thank you” you whisper.

Javi smiles warmly, his eyes full of admiration and unwavering support. 

“Of course, baby. I’m here for you always. No matter what.” 

You let your head fall back to his chest and you take a deep breath. He keeps rubbing your back, physically feeling the tension leaving your body as you melt against him. Without your brain in overdrive, you finally register the smell of his faded cologne and his cigarettes sticking to his shirt, the scent immediately washing away more of the tension in your muscles. The warm feeling in your chest starts to spread all the way down to your toes, your whole body feeling 10 times lighter than it did 5 minutes ago as his embrace brings you a sense of solace you hadn’t experienced all day. 

After another silent minute or two, he places a kiss to your hairline before leaning in close, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. 

“You know, there’s another way to forget about it for a little while.”

His low voice alone already has the base of your spine tingling. You pick your head up to meet his gaze, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. 

“Yeah?” you ask, a weak smile slowly spreading across your face.

“Mhmm” he hums, his hands sliding down to your waist and slipping under the hem of your shirt, his warm fingers splaying over your skin. 

"You've had a tough day," Javi continues, his voice a sensual murmur. "And I think you deserve something to take your mind off all that stress."

His words, laden with suggestion, push all the worries out of your body, replacing it with a thrill that courses through your veins. He leans in until his face is inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Let me take care of you, bebita."

All you can do is nod dumbly. Javi grins as he pulls you in closer. His lips capture yours in a slow, tantalizing kiss, his lips soft and warm against yours, the taste of him flooding your senses. His hands slide up from your waist to your rib cage, rucking up your shirt in the process. Every touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, drawing you impossibly closer to him. He pulls away just long enough to pull it over your head before his lips capture yours again. 

He wraps one arm around you, keeping you close as his other hand cups your jaw, his fingers curling around the back of your neck as his thumb mindlessly brushes your cheek. Your hands find their way to his back, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. 

He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip and you part your lips with a soft sigh, his tongue immediately sliding against yours. It’s a dance of desire and vulnerability, an unspoken promise that he’s here to take away all of your worries. The rest of the world quickly fades into a distant blur, leaving just the two of you in this electric connection.

 His lips eventually leave your mouth, his breathless chuckle fanning across your jaw at the sound of your quiet whimper. He trails wet kisses along your jaw, down to the side of your neck, each one accompanied by a soft exhale that causes goosebumps to erupt over every inch of your skin. The sensation is exquisite and maddeningly arousing, and you find yourself tilting your head back, giving him better access. 

His teeth gently graze over your pulse point, sending shiver coursing through your entire body. Your heart races as he finds a spot just below your collarbone, nipping and sucking before soothing the dark spot with his tongue. His hands roam your torso, big, warm palms exploring every inch of exposed skin. You can feel the bulge in his jeans rapidly grow against your hip and your core throbs with a dull ache in response. Everything that happened earlier is miles away as you feel yourself relaxing deeper into his embrace, losing yourself in him. 

He pulls away when you whine quietly and looks down at you, his pupils already blown with lust and desire. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear then ducks down to place a chaste kiss to your lips before whispering “Bedroom. Now.” 

You nod and turn to head out of the kitchen, letting out a small giggle when he lands a quick slap to your ass. His eyes are glued to your backside as he follows you to the bedroom, his fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt along the way

You flop down on the edge of the bed with Javi just a few steps behind you. He tosses his shirt to the corner of the room and starts working on his belt as he stalks towards you. You smirk and reach behind you, undoing the clasp of your bra and letting it slide off your arms. Javi licks his lips at the sight of you sitting there in only your soft cotton shorts, looking like he’s about to pounce on his prey. 

He crosses the room until he’s standing inches in front of you, then slips his belt out of the loops and tosses it aside. You reach out, intent on undoing the button and zipper of his jeans but he stops you by wrapping a large hand around your wrist before you can touch him. 

“Nuh uh, baby. I’m takin’ care of you tonight”  

His words send a strong pulse of excitement down your spine and your heart pounds in your chest. He lets go of your wrist and you let it fall limply back to your side as you stare at him through your lashes. 

“Take off your shorts.” 

You immediately follow his command, quickly standing and moving to slide your shorts and panties down your legs so fast that you stumble a bit when they get caught around your feet. Javi reaches out and grabs your arm to steady you as you step out of your shorts and kick them to the side. 

“Good girl” he chuckles, dropping his hand from your arm. You watch with wide eyes, saliva gathering in your mouth as he shuffles out his jeans, his hardened cock gently slapping against his lower abdomen. He catches your gaze and gives you a knowing wink before making his way onto the bed. You stand in place, patiently waiting for your next set of instructions as he props himself up against the headboard. 

“C’mere” he says softly, patting his thigh. You positively beam as you climb on the bed towards him. You face him and you’re about to straddle his lap, but he stops you with a hand on your hip. 

“Turn around, cariño.”

You listen and immediately turn around and sit down between his spread legs, pressing your back into his chest. His cock presses firmly into the small of your back, a warm and welcome presence. With a contented sigh, you lean back and rest your head on his shoulder. 

“You listen so well, baby” Javi rasps, his voice rough with arousal. You only hum in response, your lips curving into a grin as you glow under his praise. He presses a kiss to your temple and his hands find your torso once again, slowly sliding up and down your sides. But he can only resist temptation for so long. 

He uses both hands to cup your breasts and you both let out soft sighs in unison. 

“Tan bonita, princesa” he whispers, his fingers finding both of your nipples. A small noise escapes from your parted lips as he feathers the pads of his fingers over the sensitive buds, teasing you until they’re stiffened peaks. He then pinches both, gently rolling them between his thumb and fingers. 

“That feel good?” he asks softly, his lips moving against your temple. 

You nod, letting out an uneven breath as you involuntarily push your chest forward into his touch. He pinches a little harder, pulling a delicate gasp from you. His cock twitches against you in response. 

“Want you to use your words, bebita.” 

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before responding. 

“F-feels good, Javi.” 

He clicks his tongue and squeezes a little harder again. 

“And what do you call me when I’m makin’ you feel good, princesa?” he asks, his voice dangerously low in your ear. 

Your mouth goes dry and your heart skips a beat in your chest. 

Fuck. 

The stress of your day was already far in the back of your mind, but Javi was intent on erasing it completely. And he knows exactly how to do so. 

“Daddy” you correct yourself, the simple word placing you on precipice of submission “Feels really good, daddy” 

“That’s right, bebita” Javi groans softly, his cock twitching in approval. “Such a good girl for me.” 

He then hooks his chin over your shoulder while you exhale a long, shaky breath as one of his hands leaves your breast and slides down your stomach. You clit pulses in anticipation, but he avoids where you want him most and instead smooths his hand over the top of your thigh. Your chest heaves with every breath as he teases you with gentle touches, getting you all worked up just the way you both like it. 

“You want me to touch you, princessa?” Javi asks, his fingertips dancing delicately on the inside of your thigh. It tickles and you reflexively try to close your legs, but he brings his foot to the inside of your calf and pushes it to the side before placing his foot flat on the bed, keeping your leg firmly in place. “Answer me.” 

“Yes, daddy, please” you whine, your voice coming out a lot more desperate than you intended. 

“Where, baby? Tell me where you want daddy’s fingers.” 

He’s teasing you, but it serves as an excellent distraction –  the events from earlier today are the least of your concerns right now. 

“You want them here?” he asks, his fingers now just barely tracing your dripping seam. “Want me to touch your pretty little pussy? Rub that pretty little clit?” 

You nod fervently and buck your hips up without thinking, your body betraying your patience and chasing after his touch. Javi chuckles darkly and harshly pinches your nipple with his other hand, making you jump in surprise. 

“Tell me, baby. Be a good girl and tell me.” 

You whimper, a hot flush spreading across your chest and creeping up your neck. You’ve been here a thousand times with him, been in far more desperate situations too. But the butterflies still tickle your tummy and the tips of your ears burn with embarrassment. 

“Want…want you to touch my pretty little pussy, daddy.” you murmur, the last of your sentence barely audible. 

He immediately rewards you by dipping two fingers into your slippery folds, groaning softly in your ear when he feels how wet you are for him. “Mmm that’s my good girl. Always fuckin’ soaked for me, huh?” he asks, dipping the tips of his fingers into your hole, gathering your slick and dragging it up to your clit. You nod lazily, your eyes fixed on his hand between your legs. 

He starts with slow, languid circles, his cock pulsing against your back with every small noise that bubbles up out of your throat. His other hand is still occupied with pinching and rolling your nipple. Hot arousal flows through your veins, every nerve ending on fire just from his easy touches. You want it faster, you need more. But you know he won’t give it to you unless you ask. 

“Pl-please, daddy. Faster please” you huff, squirming in his lap as you try to suppress the urge to buck your hips up again. 

“Look at you, princesa. Being such a good girl asking’ nicely like that” Javi whispers, instantly picking up the pace of his fingers and adding more pressure. You let out a long, low moan, the sound of it filling the bedroom. “Sound so pretty too” he adds, pressing his lips to your temple. 

His other hand leaves your nipple and he shushes you softly when you whine at the loss. He doesn’t tease you this time, his hand immediately joining the other between your legs. He keeps his two fingers on your clit, rubbing firm circles just like you asked while his other hand finds your leaking entrance. 

He doesn’t make you ask again before he slides his middle finger inside of you, probably more out of his own desperation to feel you clenching around him. You’re absolutely soaked, you juices freely flowing out of you, down his finger and into his palm like warm honey. He wants to draw it out, slowly work you up until you’re about to snap, but he’s not feeling very patient anymore. 

He slides his finger in and out of you a few more times before adding a second, curling his fingertips. He finds the spot inside of you instantly and you reward him with a loud gasp, your whole body trembling as you relax against his chest. 

“That’s it, baby. Just relax for me” Javi coos, his voice tight and strained as he tries to contain his own excitement. He pumps his fingers inside you, his fingertips nudging against the spot that has your whole body jolting with every pass. Every inch of your skin feels on fire as he works you, lewd sounds filling the room as he plays with your slick pussy. You feel wetness on your back and quickly realize that it’s his precum leaking from his warm tip, smearing against your skin as you squirm around. 

“Mierda, princesa” Javi groans as you clench tightly around his two fingers. “You close, baby?” he asks, already knowing the answer. You answer with a high-pitched whine, throwing your head back on his shoulder. 

“Cum for me, baby” Javi grunts, moving his fingers faster, bringing you to the edge. “Cum all over my fingers and then I’ll fuck you, nice and deep just how you like it” 

His fingers are relentless, rubbing dizzying circles on your clit and punching up into your g-spot. You can’t hold back anymore, rocking your hips and grinding down on his fingers. Your chest burns with every breath you manage to suck in, the hot coil in your tummy wound tightly, threatening to burst at any moment. You open your mouth and try to tell him that you’re about to cum, but every time you try to speak, the only sounds that come out are loud gasps in-between broken moans. 

And then you finally snap. Javi groans as you clamp down around his fingers, so tight that he can hardly keep moving them. He then quickly pulls them out, his eyes wide with amazement as your juices gush out of you, drops of it landing on his leg, most of it soaking the blankets underneath you. 

 “There’s my good girl” he hisses between clenched teeth. He watches intently as you thrash around, the sight of you squirting and the sweet sounds of your moans going straight to his cock as he works you through your orgasm. He doesn’t let up until you come down, whimpering and jolting at his touch. 

You collapse backwards against his chest, your head on his shoulder as you pant and try to catch your breath. He goes back to tracing your seam, his touch featherlight once again. You let out a sigh, your limbs heavy and head fuzzy with pure ecstasy.

He eventually moves his hands away, placing them on your thighs and letting out a low whistle. 

“Did so well, princesa. Look how much you came for me” Javi rasps, nosing at the column of your neck.

You pick your head up, looking down at the aftermath of your orgasm. You laugh breathlessly at the dark spot underneath you and the liquid on Javi’s calf shining in the dim glow of the lamp on the bedside table. Javi’s chest rumbles with his own chuckle as he presses sweet kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck. 

He doesn’t give you much time to recover before he taps your thighs and gives you your next command. “Hands and knees, princesa.” 

You’ve barely had time to catch your breath, but your pussy still aches in anticipation of his earlier promise. You take a deep breath and find enough strength to sit up straight. Your limbs are weak and noodly as you crawl over to a dry spot on the bed and get into position, your ass in the air with your face pressed against the soft blankets. 

You crane your neck to watch Javi who flashes you a devilish grin as he assumes his position on his knees behind you. You give him a sweet smile back and wiggle your ass. And he takes the bait, groping your cheeks with both hands before he spreads you open, putting everything on display just for him. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous, baby.” he growls before leaning over to spit. You gasp and moan softly at the feeling of the warm liquid landing on your asshole and sliding down to pool at your swollen clit. He then brings his thumb up, using the pad to gently rub his saliva against your puckered hole. “So fuckin’ gorgeous” 

“Daddyyyy” you whine pitifully, pushing your hips back into his touch. He chuckles breathlessly and wraps a hand around the base of his cock and lining himself up. 

“You’re so good, baby.” Javi starts as he slides his cock in the mess between your cheeks. “My strong, beautiful, intelligent, good girl.”

Your face heats up at the praise, the words stirring up the butterflies in your stomach yet again. 

“Thank you, daddy” you murmur, the sound muffled by the blankets. Javi just hums and continues to glide his cock through the wetness, addicted to the way whimper every time his cockhead brushes against your swollen clit and your aching entrance. You whimper and wiggle your hips again, trying to get what you want. 

“Repeat it.” Javi commands simply. “Wanna hear you say it” 

You squeeze your eyes shut and whimper again. He’s completely taken over your headspace now, forcing you into a place of submission where there’s no room to think about anything other than him and what he asks of you. This is how he takes care of you, how he can turn every bad day on its head and take away every single one of your worries until you’re a blissed out mess underneath him. And he’s really fucking good at it. 

“I’m your strong, beautiful, intelligent, girl” you choke out, a fresh wave of slick gushing out of you and onto his rock hard cock at the forced admission.

“Forgot one” he breathes, his thumb still rubbing at your tight little hole. You wrack your brain, thoughts moving slower than syrup in your head as you try to remember what he said not even 10 seconds ago. 

“Good.” you say, as soon as you remember. I’m you’re good girl, daddy.” 

“Yes you are, baby” Javi says, notching his tip at your entrance. “So fucking good for your daddy.” 

He pushes all the way in, burying himself to balls deep in your aching cunt in one smooth movement. The sounds you make are obscene as you twist your fists in the blanket underneath him. He’s so deep, you swear you can feel him somewhere near your lungs. Just like he promised. He moans roughly behind you, the feeling on your warm walls squeezing rhythmically around his neglected cock overwhelming all of his senses.

But you don’t let him catch a break. You barely give yourself time to adjust before you take matters into your own hands and start rocking your hips, fucking yourself on his cock. Javi inhales sharply, both hands finding your hips and trying to hold you in place, but you’re not having it. 

“Daddy please–oh shit– please fuck me, need it so bad” you whine as you continue to rock your hips despite Javi’s best efforts to stop you. 

Javi just growls in response, his fingertips digging into your hips as he slides out until just his tip rests inside before slamming back into you. The loud moan that he pulls from you travels as a shiver down his spine and fuels his fire. He quickly finds a steady pace, brutally slamming into you like he’s fucking the stress out right out of your body. You let all the moans and whines and whimpers float freely out of your mouth as you take what he gives you, as he fills you up and stuffs you full over and over and over again. 

“You're so good for me” Javi grunts, gripping your hips and moving them backwards to meet his every thrust. “Feel so fucking good squeezing me like that, this tight little pussy was fucking made for me” 

Your eyes roll back into your head, his words once again turning your brain into mush as he fucks you into another plane of existence. You’re already teetering on the edge of another release, your lower abdomen burning with it, your swollen, neglected clit pulsing and desperate for attention.

And Javi feels it too.

“Already gonna cum again?” Javi asks breathlessly before landing a smack to your ass. You yelp in shock and there’s another wave of your juices leaking out onto his cock. 

“Ohh you like that, don’t you baby?” Javi coos before spanking you again, this time a bit harsher. Your face scrunches in pleasure and words have completely eluded you so you just cry out against the mattress, hoping that and your clenching pussy gets the point across. 

Thankfully Javi doesn’t ask you to answer him. Instead he keeps fucking into you, delivering firmm hits to your ass, completely mesmerized with the way it jiggles as he spanks and fucks into you. He’s just as close as you are, never lasts very long if he’s inside without cumming at least once beforehand. 

He moves one hand from your hip to between your legs, his fingers tracing where you’re stretched out so nicely around his thick cock before they land on your clit once again. You sob as he starts immediately rubbing fast, harsh circles that send you speeding towards the finish line. 

“Oh fuck, daddy! Gonna cum m’gonna cum pleasssee let me cum” 

Javi sucks in a harsh breath, his eyebrows furrowing together as his cock lurches inside of you. 

“Yeah, fuck yeah, baby. Cum on this cock like a good girl” Javi grits out, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he clenches his teeth together, trying to hold himself together. Your hands scramble against the blankets as he slams into you with newfound vigor, pushing you up the bed with each thrust and making you scream in ecstasy.

“Cum and then I’ll fill you up” he grunts. “I’ll fill you up and fuck it so deep that it’ll be leaking out of you for days, just reminding you of how good you are for me. Always so fucking good baby jesus christ” 

His filthy promises send you flying over the edge. You bury your face in the blankets and scream, your legs giving out from the force of it, your hips dropping to the bed and leaving you in a prone position. And Javi doesn’t miss a beat. He presses his chest against your back, using his freehand to support the bulk of his weight as he keeps working his fingers on your clit the best he can, not letting his pace falter even once. 

The new position shoves his cock even deeper inside of you, punching against your cervix with each thrust as he rearranges your guts. Your only option is to lie there let him drag out your release for as long as possible. 

“That’s it” Javi rasps, his voice sounding absolutely wrecked now. “Sweet little pussy is fuckin’ milking my cock, cariño. You want my cum? Want me to stuff you fuckin’ full?” 

You’re too far gone to respond, reduced to nothing but putty in his hands, your trembling body limp and pliant just for him to use. He can only hold it together for a few more thrusts before he buries himself all the way inside of you, spilling his hot seed deep inside of you.

Staying true to his promise, he fucks you through it, shallowly moving his hips and pushing his cum as deep as possible. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, the sensation of it all pushing you over the edge once again, though you’re not sure if you ever came back from the last one. Javi watches in amazement as you cum again, your voice breaking on desperate sobs while you squeeze around him, truly milking him for all he’s worth.

He moves his hand from your clit once your moans start to die down and then collapses on top of you, carefully though as not to completely crush you. You welcome the weight, a comforting pressure that makes you feel so warm and safe and secure. 

He stays buried inside of you as you both come down. You can feel his heart pounding from where his chest is pressed against you, his warm breath fanning across your neck as you both try to catch your breath. The two of you stay there for a while, basking in the post coitus glow. His cock softens inside of you and he only moves when his cum starts to dribble out of you. 

You whine softly as he moves to sit up, his now soft cock slipping out of you and leaving you feeling empty. But the feeling doesn’t last too long. 

He scoots back so he’s kneeling between your legs, both hands on your cheeks and spreading you open again. You feel his eyes burning holes into your skin as he watches his cum slowly leaking out of you. He doesn’t let it fall too far though, using a finger to scoop up all that’s dribbled out and pushing it back inside. You moan softly at the sensation and it takes everything in him not to fuck you with his fingers once again. 

“Think we need to get you in a nice hot shower” he says, his tone sweet and soft once again as he removes his fingers. 

You turn your head to look at him through hooded eyes, a dopey smile plastered to your face, looking completely fucked out.

“And we’re ordering take out too” he announces, leaning over to place a sweet kiss on your cheek. Images of the burnt chicken sitting on the stove float through your head, along with fuzzy memories of the events from earlier today. But you don’t give a single fuck anymore. Javi thoroughly wiped every ounce of stress from your brain. And now anything that isn’t directly related to you and Javi at this moment, on your shared bed in the dim light of the evening sun filtering through the curtain is far, far away. 

“We’re not getting fucking chicken” is all you say and the sound of yours and Javi’s laughter rings pleasantly through the room and in your ears as content seeps deep into your bones.

I LOVE THIS MAN okay thank u for reading <333

[babextoken]

so I can have you to myself...for once

summary: new boyfriend!virgin!vessel thinks the world of you and can't think of a better way to show it than giving himself to you completely

vessel x fem!reader 𐙚

head's up/tags: switchy desperate lovesick vessel, sweet gone feral, smut with feelings, loss of virginity (lots of checking in and sensitivity), new established relationship, vessel is touch starved and simping, pet names (craziest one is puppy-girl tbh), p in v, dirty talk

Something Vessel didn’t tell you when you first matched on Tinder was that he was…well…how would he have even put it? Touch starved? Desperate? Needy? But you seemed to understand that. You were always holding hands while walking, or in a tight embrace if you were waiting at a crosswalk, or your legs and feet were touching while you sat. You get the idea. As much as he enjoyed the affection, he needed more. While he didn’t out himself as being, well, completely desperate for any kind of physical affection, he was upfront about being a virgin. Sure, he’d fooled around. He’d been blown plenty of times backstage and at parties…and yes he knows where the clitiros AND g-spot are, thank you for asking. But it never led to intercourse. In fact, it didn’t always lead to a relationship or a text back. A lot of times the timing was just off or the person was wrong for him or neither party wanted to. Which was completely understandable, but he had started to wonder if something was wrong with him. That was until he met you.

You were witty, kind, fun. Easy to talk to. And deeply into him. Vessel understood the allure of him. His aura and what came with it physically but otherwise he couldn't understand why you would want to stick around for more. Yeah sure he put himself out there on Tinder during a break from tour and he wanted the attention, but you…you were an angel. You made him take a step back and really consider what he’d been doing all this time. The drive to feel someone and something from others was strong for him. The sex he’d had wasn’t “consummating” by the wider society’s standards, and he was at peace with that, but he finally saw some truth in “saving yourself for the right person.” And it all came from a very sweet genuine place. He thought the world of you! But the other drive... To taste. To ravish. To fuck. That was very much running in the background.

When you two started having serious conversations about your histories and preferences, he was nervous. When he admitted that he’d never actually fucked someone, you chuckled just the tiniest bit, making him blush. 

 “What’s so funny?”

You just shook your head and looked past him, trying to keep a level head.  “I’m not laughing at you. Just myself.”

“Oh. Why…at you?”

“Because I could have really fucked things up. Do you know how hard it is to be good around you? To not just…rip your clothes off every time you come over? To not immediately drop to my knees with my tongue out like a greedy little puppy-girl?” You paused and met his gaze. Poor guy was blushing and breathing like he’d been out in the heat. “I don’t want to scare you. It’s not like I would push you or anything, but I’m glad I know. If you’d ever like to…you know…do something with me. Just let me know. I think we could have a lot of fun together.”

And that’s when Vessel started loving you and simultaneously cursing you. Loving you because you were so sweet, and patient, and gorgeous, and fun, and thoughtful and and and(at this point whoever was listening would pat his shoulder and say, “we get it, mate, you’re whipped”). But he cursed the day he mentioned being a virgin to you because he couldn’t get that image out of his head: you on your knees, begging for his cock. You saw all his scars and flaws and still wanted him in the rawest, most basic way. That blew his mind.

…

On the night you two finally slept together, you stayed out later than usual. Probably past midnight. But you don’t care. He clung to you all night at that stupid party and tried to make out with you in the Uber like a horny teenager. It was adorable. He was adorable. Back at your place, you fiddle for your keys on the darkened porch, which was quite difficult with a giggly man clinging to you. 

“Use your phone light,” Vessel says as he holds your waist and kisses your neck.

You let out a playful, exasperated sigh. “You use your phone light! My hands are full!” Finally the front door opens, and you both clamber in. Vessel’s hands find your waist again and pull you in for a frantic kiss. His hands can’t stay still as he clutches your plush ass but then trails all the way back up to grasp your hair. With a moan he pulls away.

“I think… I want to try it tonight.”

The giddiness and giggliness doesn’t stop once you fall onto your bed, making out and attempting to undress each other. Vessel kicks off his shoes and hesitantly moves away from you so he can take off his jeans. You lean back on your elbows, shaking your head softly. “So eager for me,” you chuckle.

He stands before you in his boxer briefs after he’s taken his shirt off, just taking in the sight of you. His fingers twitch by his side…and so does his cock. You like what you see and feel yourself propelled forward. Onto your knees. “Gonna take care of me, babe?” he asks with a shaky breath. He whimpers softly and bites his lip as you smirk up at him with a little smirk as your fingers lightly trace the waistband of his underwear and his happy trail. On the inside, he’s a mess. He feels the need to claim you as his. He doesn’t even really care about losing his virginity. Vessel just wants to know he’s been with you. The thought of screwing up tonight and not fucking you makes him cringe. He can’t take another night of fucking his stupid little fleshlight and sucking his own fingers pretending both holes are yours. When you ask if you can take his boxers off, he nods dumbly and bites his lip. He thinks he must have blacked out because suddenly your tongue glides from base to tip. Such a pretty smile on your face, too.

“Take your dress off. Please. Please, baby,” he pleads.You shake your head “no” with a little wink as you take his cock deeper into your mouth, nose almost touching him. “Fuck. My girl is talented,” he says as his chest starts to heave a little, “mmm please I…I want to see you.” He can barely get the words out as you let your tongue drag up the underside of his cock. As your lips pass over the head, Vessel’s panting turns into little whimpery moans. “Please.” You gaze up at him through half lidded eyes and see that he’s chewing on his lip and shaking…he wants to manhandle you. He needs to act out. “Fuck it.” Vessel takes your jaw in his hand and holds you so that you’re looking up at him.

“I am done begging. This is me telling you. Take your fucking dress off for me.”

His voice is firm. Dark. Lustful. 

“Yes sir,” is all you can manage before pulling the straps down. You stand up and let the satin-y material pool around your tummy. Vessel curses and growls under his breath as his eyes trail down your bare chest, his hands then pulling your dress further down your plush waist and hips. The feeling of his thumbs hooking the waistband of your panties makes you gasp a little. Vessel just shakes his head and chuckles as he undresses you. 

“You’ve already sucked my cock like it was nothing and yet me undressing you embarrasses you? And here…I thought you would be bossing me around tonight. You’ve folded, hm?”

“I uhm…heh.” You can’t even finish your thought as he pulls your hair back so you look straight up at him. “Got…got too excited I guess.”

“Hm,” he hums with amusement, “like a greedy puppy-girl. All bark…but you have any bite for me? Hmm?”

You stammer as he pushes you back on the bed. There’s something in how he maneuvers you that feels calculated. Practiced. “Ves…babe…? Are you sure you’ve never done this?”

He laughs as he lays atop you, his cock rubbing against your tummy. You can feel him quivering as your nude bodies touch for the first time. Vessel steadies his breath and whispers into your neck, “baby, if you had kept sucking me any longer I was going to lose it…but just because I’ve never been fucked doesn’t mean I don’t think about it.” His cock twitches between you both. “I know what I’m doing. And…dammit I know I’m going to just absolutely…” he pauses as his fingers mash against your clit “…drain myself so fast once I’m inside you. My pretty girl.” He trails wet, sucking kisses down your shoulder, breathing heavily as he poses a question. “I know you think about this. Has it made you cum?” You grit your teeth and whimper as his middle finger enters you and starts to fuck you. 

“Veeeeessssss fuck, baby…s’not nice to ask me something…while you…fuck.” He’s relishing in you trying to answer as he adds a second finger. Your hips buck against his fingers as he kisses your forehead and coos about what a sexy little thing you are. You can’t help the whines coming from you as he pulls his fingers from your needy pussy. All sense in your head flies out the window when he sucks his fingers clean and tastes you for the very first time. “What happened to my sweet, timid boyfriend?” you ask breathlessly.

Vessel plants a soft, deep kiss on your lips as he nudges the head of his cock against your entrance. You find yourself giggling breathlessly as he peppers your face with kisses before he rubs his nose against yours and whispers. “Still him. Just taking what you’ve so very kindly offered me…fuck…you gonna let me in, love?”

You nod softly and whimper as he pushes in. A pathetic, throaty moan ripples through him as he bottoms out. You’d never been someone’s first. It was a bit surprising but very endearing to see him go from feral and touch starved to blushy and pussy-drunk. Vessel wants to move. To feel your hot body against his…to hear you…to kiss you…to have any simultaneous feedback. His lust reciprocated. 

The instinct to care for him kicks in. You hold his face and whisper. “You feel so good inside me…you do baby…I want you so bad… Do you feel good?” His eyebrows knit together and he whimpers softly, wincing like he’s in pain. But he nods. “Do you want me to take care of you?” He nods again and buries his face in your neck. God his cock is throbbing hard inside you. Your hips buck sensually against him, riding from beneath. 

“Oh…fuck…you’re actually…you’re fucking me…you’re fucking me…” he whimpers pathetically. He winces and bites his lip. “Stop, baby.” 

“Are you ok?”

Vessel looks down at you with hazy, dreamy eyes and nods. “This is heaven. You are heaven.” His mouth goes to your nipple while he maneuvers one of your legs over his arm. “What did I do to deserve this…hm? Smart, beautiful girl with a perfect pussy…you shouldn’t have been single,” he whispers as he moves to kiss your lips. You both moan into the kiss, which makes his hips twitch. You feel the first tentative little thrusts and make sure to nod and “mhm” throughout the kiss to encourage him. He breaks the kiss, panting and quivering. You’re about to ask if he wants a break but he looks you dead in the eyes and gulps. “I love you, but I’m feeling a little overwhelmed. You’re driving me crazy. I’ve…I’ve wanted this for so long…and doing it with you I just…darling….” He trails off, thrusting slowly, making your eyes roll back from the stretch and feeling of his pubic bone meeting yours. You can tell he’s holding back. Holding his breath.

“Ves…Ves, babe…breathe with me. You’re ok…you feel so fucking good.”

“I can’t stand it…I have to…I need to…”

The look in his eyes betrays the sweet pout of his lips. He wants to claim you. Shape your insides to him. “Do it. I can take it.” 

He growls in your ear with a little chuckle, “you’re not one of my toys. I don’t want to hurt you…” He takes a shaky breath and cups your breast with his free hand, his other resting above your head.

“I trust you. And love you. You look sexy up there, ya know?” You say with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. He responds with another chuckle and kisses you deeply. You both get lost in each other and then he finds his rhythm again. You have no concept of how long he actually lasts. And you don’t care. When he cums he keeps fucking it into you, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he cries out your name…little curses…broken moans. 

The next morning, he spoons you. Pressing his morning wood against you and whining about how you didn’t cum last night. “I know I don’t know everything yet, babes, but maybe I could just poke around…play a little? Please?” 

[maxdibert]

Would Snape even be capable of being a good boyfriend?

That depends a bit on what you think makes a "good boyfriend."

There are very basic things in romantic relationships that people often view as a plus but that should really be the foundation of any kind of connection. For example, respecting the other person's boundaries, honoring the agreements established, showing emotional responsibility, and generally treating your partner or the person you're involved with well. Many people believe that doing these things makes someone a good boyfriend because men are held to very low standards when it comes to being good partners, but those things are just the basics. They're the simplest things, really—just having a certain level of emotional maturity and behaving like a decent human being.

Relationships are more complicated than that, certainly, because it's not just about being a good or bad partner but about the compatibility between two people. This compatibility is based on two fundamental things: goals and character. It’s not about having identical goals and personalities, or even similar ones, nor about being completely different or opposites. It’s about finding a balance between those two concepts. You can meet someone who checks all the boxes for what an ideal partner might be and still not work out because your personality and theirs don’t mesh, or because your life goals are very different. You might even experience this with someone at one point in your life, meet them again years later, and have it work out because both of you are at a point where a healthy relationship is possible. There are a lot of factors at play.

Severus is a very complicated character with a terrible personality. And that’s just how it is. I love him precisely because he’s a prick with a bad temper, capable of being the most efficient, effective, and functional person in certain aspects but then getting triggered by something and suddenly behaving like a tantrum-throwing child incapable of managing his emotions—especially his bouts of anger. This makes for a fascinating and fun character to explore, but having a partner like that requires a certain kind of person. Severus wouldn’t be an easy boyfriend because he hasn’t had an easy life. He’s never addressed or worked through all the traumas he carries, he’s never learned how to manage his emotions, and he doesn’t have tools to handle them apart from using Occlumency—which is essentially an avoidance mechanism, and we know avoidance mechanisms are the absolute worst when it comes to emotional management.

You’d be dealing with a guy who, first of all, isn’t pleasant. He can have pleasant moments, but it’s not his default. He doesn’t know how to be pleasant and doesn’t like being pleasant. Being unpleasant is a type of protection he’s imposed on himself because he’s spent so many years performing that role to build a wall between himself and the rest of the world, especially to avoid forming personal connections or overly intimate relationships. He doesn’t know how to deal with positivity. I imagine him as someone who’s been through so much that he can’t quite believe he can have something good, and if someone were to ask him out, he’d probably think it was a joke or experience anticipatory anxiety, thinking they’re going to leave him any moment. He’d likely leave first or subconsciously sabotage the relationship to create a self-fulfilling prophecy and maintain the stigma he’s placed on himself—that he can’t be happy and everything goes wrong, blah blah blah.

He’s a deeply depressed person with terrible anger management, someone who would likely lash out over the slightest perceived attack, saying things that are incredibly, deeply hurtful. Then he’d feel terrible about it and, instead of apologizing, would fall into an avoidance spiral out of sheer embarrassment. He’s someone who’s very used to being alone, which makes people quite particular and fussy, often complicating cohabitation.

But on top of all that, he’s someone who wouldn’t chase after you, wouldn’t make the first move, or wouldn’t ask you out again. He’d be too terrified of feeling and losing because his emotional intelligence in that sense is quite stunted. So he’s a complicated guy, a guy with a lot of baggage, and someone who’s like catnip for people with a "rescuer syndrome"—those who want to save broken puppies from the street, “fix him,” or prove to him that life is worth living. That kind of partner would be terrible for Severus because he doesn’t need someone to change him. Lily already tried that, and it went terribly wrong because he has a specific personality, and you can’t put conditions on loving someone. You either love them with all their flaws, or you don’t—period. And that’s okay; it’s not a bad thing—it’s just incompatibility. You’re not going to change Severus, and you don’t have the right to change him. What he needs isn’t a mother or a caretaker; he needs someone who’s his equal, who stands up to him, and who, if he yells, will yell louder.

He needs someone who can understand his messed-up head, maybe even share some of that, someone with the same shitty character but greater emotional maturity at the same time to be the more rational one in the relationship. Someone who doesn’t judge him for what he’s done, who doesn’t even give it much importance. That’s to say, someone who can hold their own with him. I’ve always believed that, for someone deeply traumatized but unworked, the best match is another deeply traumatized person—but one who’s done the work. In other words, someone who has the same issues but has developed the tools to manage them because that creates the perfect balance: you understand the other person, you can handle them, and they understand you and can handle you, but when things go south, the person who’s done the work knows how to manage the situation and de-escalate.

I think that if Severus found someone who could keep up with him, then yes, he could be a good partner. Why not? He’s a very loyal and dedicated guy with almost obsessive devotion to those who earn his respect, trust, or affection. He’d do anything for someone he loves. He’s extremely devoted in his attachments because he’s so intense in that regard. The thing is, that’s not everything. He also needs to be with someone who can provide balance so he doesn’t act like a jerk. If he were with someone who gets scared at the first sarcastic comment or when he blows up over some nonsense, then no, he’d be a terrible partner. I mean, with complex personalities like his, everything depends entirely on the person he’s with and their character. Severus is a very difficult person. I think he could only show that he’s capable of having healthy and functional relationships with someone equally difficult but who has a clearer sense of things than he does.

[anotherhomelanderblog]

The Ravishing (Part 2)

Summary: You've discovered a certain jar, so confront Homelander about it. He doesn't react very well. Content: Homelander x fem!Reader | established relationship | The Pube Jar(TM) | angst | hurt/comfort | nonspecific S4 timeline Word count: 1.8k Author's note: Strap in for the rollercoaster that is Homelander's mood swings!

One Two Three Four Five

He returns within an hour, which you take as a good sign. It gives you time to discard what remains of the jar you can without giving you the space to grow too anxious. You don’t check the news for spontaneous explosions. You do check his fridge is fully stocked with milk.

All will be well.

Homelander touches down on the balcony with more grace than he left with. He seems calmer too, though there’s still something stony and livid in his face. You cross your arms and stop pacing the penthouse floor as he slips back inside and reverses the path he took earlier. As you’ve been expecting, he gets the first word.

“That,” he says, pointing to the charred table, “never happened.”

He avoids looking your way entirely. You cock your head to one side.

“Um. Yes, it did.”

Homelander freezes in the middle of the room. You think he was heading for the door, simply passing through to tell you what’s what before finding an underling to harass until working hours finish. He pivots a hundred and eighty degrees on his heels and stares at you intently. It’s some kind of magic, really, that not a single hair on his head has been blown out of place.

“Excuse me?” His eyebrows are up. As they lower, his left cheek twitches. His expression darkens. “Do I need to start worrying about your hearing?”

You can feel your heart beating faster than usual, so you know the sound must be deafening to him. Still, you’re not Ashley, or a member of the Seven, or some random Vought employee; you refuse to let him treat you like one whenever he gets rankled.

“At least then we’ll both be worried about something,” you snap, and the frustration comes easily. You uncross your arms and stride towards him, only stopping when you’re close enough to point in his face. Pulling his own tricks against him can flummox him, if nothing else. “I know. You can keep denying it all you want, but I know something is wrong. You’re not okay.”

He scoffs. “Care to enlighten me on what exactly you think’s wrong me with me, darling?”

His tone is biting, but you see the hurt welling up in his eyes. Fighting with him can be so difficult. You wish there was an easier way to make him uncomfortable, that it didn’t always strip him down to this defensive, raw, bleeding person. His anger and his pain both seem to wound him in ways that don’t clot, like he’s some sort of emotional haemophiliac. You love that he feels deeply, but you wish there was anything on earth that could heal as deeply too.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” you say, less abrasively.

“Do I?”

He steps back from you, the hurt in his eyes still festering. Despite your lover’s fluctuating temperaments, you’re a little surprised by how fast he’s unravelling – you’d expected more anger before he got upset, if getting upset was even on the cards tonight.

You sigh. “Babe…”

You try mirroring his step back with another one forwards, but he turns away from you completely and crosses his arms. You’re faced instead with the flag: pitiful and limp.

“I know you’ve noticed, alright? Seems every fucking person has,” he mutters. “I hear what they’re saying when they think I’m not listening.”

“What are they saying?” You deliberate on whether to reach over and touch him. “Homelander–”

He whips back around before you can decide.

“That I’m getting old, Y/N! Is that what you want me to admit?”

The hurt in his eyes is burning sapphire blue, and you feel the last dregs of your former annoyance seep out of you. Paradoxically, right now, he has never looked younger. Why is he so painfully, hauntingly human?

He sucks in a breath and continues, “You want me to agree? That– That I’m going grey and fucking creased a-and wrinkled and–” He shakes his head, gaze on the floor when he speaks again, bitterly, “That I’m a joke.”

“You’re not a joke.” Now you’re the one getting defensive.

His head darts back up to scrutinise you. “Oh, but I am old, right?”

“You’re middle aged,” you correct him. So, he’s having a midlife crisis? That’s… better than it could’ve been. You can handle that. You step towards him a second time, and now he lets you. “Darling, how long has this been bothering you? That jar–”

He waves a dismissive hand. “A few months.”

A few months? You try your best to repress whatever reaction you know you’ve just had to this news. That jar was nearly bursting with pubic hair.

“I wish you’d told me,” you say.

He scoffs again. “Why? So you could drag me back down to earth?”

“That’s not fair.”

You frown, but the tears in his eyes are getting dangerously close to spilling. There is an aggrieved quality to his posture all of a sudden. His shoulders slump.

“Do you still find me attractive?” he asks.

There are visceral, horrifying moments when you think Homelander looks like a character in a movie he’d never star in: a person stood in the middle of a road, seconds before a violent death rips them away from the viewer forever. Whenever there’s a painful question on his lips, that lost spec in his eyes. You’re not sure why you get this sense with him and no one else, but you’re glad it always pushes you to tug him back before the metaphorical car hits.

Your eyes widen.  “Oh, hey, stop that. C’mere…”

You finally bridge the gap and engulf him a hug. He remains immovably tense for a second, then his body relaxes and he wraps his arms around you too. If anything wants to hit him, let it hit the both of you.

Something shifts. You are the only one to ever offer him this comfort so willingly, without calculating what there is for you to gain first. You hear him sigh as he hides in the crook of your neck.

“Of course I do,” you whisper fiercely. “I thought you could always tell that, baby – with your senses?”

You frown, thinking about the last few months: the creeping acceptance that maybe sex wouldn’t be what it once was anymore, that perhaps your lover had moved on from all that, was devoting his passion elsewhere. Maybe you’d stopped giving off indications you were still interested too, in the wake of that. You shake your head. You’re both idiots.

“If I’ve not been aroused enough for your liking recently, I apologise. I thought you were losing interest,” you explain. “I know you’ve been stressed. That’s all. I didn’t know why.”

He doesn’t say anything, although you feel his grip around you tighten. He’s listening, you realise, which isn’t always a given. You soften your tone even further.

“You know you’re the most handsome guy on the planet, right? Nothing can change that.”

“Yeah?” His voice is hoarse.

When you pull back to gauge his expression, you find him gazing at you as though you hold the secrets to the universe. This is a desperation few get to see in Homelander. Now and then, at times like these, you think you spy the boy he once was. You know he has scars that may never heal, but you’ll also never stop using your love to show him he’s no longer alone.

You nod in answer to his question, moving one hand to cup his cheek.

“You bet. In fact, I have half a mind to ravish you right now to prove it.”

This earns you an incredulous chuckle, which is all the victory you need. You smile as he nuzzles into your hand and brings one of his own to keep it held there. The feel of his leather gloves isn’t as intimate as skin-on-skin contact, but the sensation is comfortingly familiar to you these days – alongside the scent of ozone and, weirdly enough, fresh Spandex.

His fight waning, Homelander exudes sadness, clearly mournful for this loss he perceives in himself, but those tears you saw glimmering have receded. You watch his features reorganise themselves through taut little movements as he grapples with whatever it is he wants to say.

He sighs again. “It’s just that– I just–”

His jaw visibly tenses, you feel it under your palm, and then he drops his hand and turns his head away from your touch. As his eyes flicker over the New York skyline, debate rages within them. You stay quiet, lowering your hand to rub his shoulder. Eventually, the entire left side of his face twitches, and he growls, closing his eyes.

You understand his hesitancy in all of this, as complicated as it sometimes makes communication, but, at this point in your relationship, you doubt there is anything he could say that would shock you fundamentally. You’re long past grappling with that.

“You can tell me,” you say, and you’re just gently coaxing the flames of a campfire.

“I’m supposed to be perfect,” he grits out.

He sounds petulant but, beneath that, ashamed. Your heart clenches painfully; this man of yours, always so chewed up. And for what? You give him a squeeze you doubt he feels and take hold of his hands.

“Homelander,” you say softly.

He doesn’t respond. His eyes are scrunched shut now. His gloves form fists within your hands.

You’ve seen people back away in fear when he gets like this: non-supes, supes, even members of the Seven. Everyone seems to think he’s a ticking time bomb, and none want to be the accidental spark that lights his fuse. Besides you, Ryan is probably the only person who interacts with him on a daily basis without a hideous, protective veneer of some design, though you can see the unsteady bridge between them that even the power of flight can’t help Homelander cross.

Maybe you’re just an Alice, too far gone down your own rabbit hole of love for him to recognise these things as warning signs – take the jar of pubic hair, something you’ll admit is a level of neurotic you’ve not encountered with him before. But you don’t want to shut any of him out. You can’t.

With practiced skill, you run your thumbs over the leather of his gloves, using your other fingers to carefully ask permission to breach unrelenting rock of his fists. He obliges, which tells you any fight he had in him is already gone, and you join your hands properly. He grips you hard, but not hard enough to hurt.

“Come with me?” you ask, and he nods, letting you lead him wordlessly to the bedroom.

[punksocks]

Astrology Observations: No.25

*just based on my personal observations, only take what resonates

Omg my first degree theory observation was wrong Danial Kwan has moon at 18 degree, a Virgo degree ! (My bad y’all I’m learning). I’ll say that he had to get a hold of his mental health while in Covid and his adult adhd diagnosis and that influenced the writing of everything all at once (Imma learn this lol, more studying must be done)

Ok better degree theory lol, the degree of your Venus and/or mars can show placements you attract. My Venus is at a cancer degree and I’ve dated a l o t of people with Cancer placements (an experience lol)

A guy’s Lilith can show that his sort of femme fatale attraction (type of girl that overstimulates him, makes him feel enamored but is also his weakness.) His Lilith placement can describe this femme in more detail. For Aries, a go getter that takes no shit (I believe @zeldasnotes said Lilith in Aries in a man’s chart is a strong indicator that he’s a feminist and I totally agree.); For Sagittarius she’d be untethered and have a great sense of humor and may be outside of his culture. For Aquarius she’d be idealized as a manic pixie dream girl, like quirky in a way he could never figure out. let me know if you all would like a whole post on this !

Only outer planets (Uranus, Neptune, Pluto) in your 1st can give you an extra ordinary appearance and make you stand out quite a bit.

Your mars conjunct to someone’s sun can make them feel competitive with you. Venus on the other hand can make you put the sun person on a sort of pedestal and can make the relationship feel like you’re a fan of the sun person. Moon to someone’s sun can feel more at home and at ease.

Men with water Venuses seem to be super monogamous or like incapable of monogamy (which is fine lol, but be ethical about it and establish boundaries and don’t cheat yo)

12th house synastry is sticky asl, as soon as you moved on someone just appears on your mind out of nowhere, lotta hidden energy all tied up together; 8th house synastry is really intense but it’s often hard to build something stable out of the intensity. 4th house feels like home, but as someone with Uranus over their 4th, I associate this synastry with being unpredictable and chaotic in familiar way. 5th and 11th house synastry tends to be good long term. 5th house means you feel fun and creative and always excited together. And 11th house will mean that there’s a feeling of friendship underneath the passion that usually sustains the connection imo.

For all of the seriousness associated with Capricorn placements (especially suns) often focus on a lot on whimsy in their creative works, like it’s the outlet for a lot of their hidden optimism (Hayao Miyazaki, Nobuhiko Obayashi the director of Hausu).

Ok ok I know Scorpio risings are known for intense, bedroom eyes and their overwhelming s*x appeal and making suitors flee because they’re so intimidated etc etc… but quietly I think our biggest weapon that people don’t see coming is our sense of humor. (Honest to god I was thinking of how funny Hugh Grant is even though he doesn’t need to be bc he’s been so handsome this whole time lol. He always puts in the effort into that comedic timing) (Also people still think if you’re hot and intense you can’t be funny so it defuses some of the tension pretty well imo)

I feel like Virgo placements always seem to think they feel boring even though they’re like very knowledgeable and compelling in their own right (I’m getting all reflective and remember when like Virgo moons/mars would always ask if they’re being boring or complain about being boring but they tend to be good conversationalists when they allow themselves to analyze things so deeply)

I think cancers are actually the most defensive sign, naturally. I want to say they have this in common with their sister sign bc Capricorns are defensive and don’t like to show “weakness”. But the way that underdeveloped cancers (can) play the victim when scrutinized is different. (Like Capricorns do that earth sign thing where they use their perception to make you feel like you’re wrong, and they want to be seen as the authority not the victim). Where cancer is in your chart could show where you’re especially guarded and trying to protect your sensitivity.

To me Jupiter conjunct south node means you’ll reap benefits of good karma from a past life (or the effects of bad karma will be a lot in this lifetime but I saw this in obama’s chart and it’s a benefic planet so the first thing is what I thought of lol, he’s not a good guy but becoming the first black president of the us seems like a past life power play imo)

[cloverandstuff]

To be Hero X is...so much better than I ever could have imagined.

When I initially saw clips of the show on youtube, I loved the animation style, but I was scared that the plot or even concept might be executed in a poor manner.

I was scared that I might find Lin Ling boring, and predictable. And when I saw Moon, I was even more scared of what they planned to do with her, since the clips made it seem like she would just be the tsundere stereotype.

But I was so wrong and I am so happy about that.

The concept of the whole show is so beautiful and they execute it remarkably well in the first and second episode. The artstyle only helps, with the combination of 2D and 3D helping to setup emotional beats. I managed to grasp the power system easily, but it still has the ability to remain complex (cause whenever something is based mainly on realistic emotions, it's bound to get complex)

They establish the world setting and plot setup in a very entertaining way in the first episode. The suicide is fucking hilarious, with the tone shift that it does. But it's not funny to Lin Ling, and when he has to tell anyone, he genuinely seems distraught or upset over it.

Speaking of him, Lin Ling has my sense of humour. He is shy but also just unapologetically himself. He hesitates but it's not annoying or unreasonable. He's bold when he needs to be and it doesn't feel wildly out of character.

Episode 2, however, was my favourite out of the two. Mainly cause it adds so much more flavour to the characters.

Lin Ling is a genuinely kind person who isn't just doing shit for Moon to get her to like him back. He really just wanted to make her happy, and makes the choices to achieve that, even if it isn't necessarily what he wanted.

Moon, while still having the essence of tsundere in her, proves to be kore than that. We don't know the way her relationship worked with Nice, but she hated being chained. She didn't want fame nor money. She wanted the freedom to travel. She is aggressive but she isn't cruel to Lin Ling. She acts childish and playful, and doesn't stop herself from having fun.

And her arc in that single episode? She wanted to stop being an accessory to Nice, and just be her own person. When she gets to have that, she chooses it over Lin Ling, because she know what she didn't want. She made the choice she knew would make her happiest, and Lin Ling respectdd that, even if he was upset.

(I ship them. I actually ship them so much. They deserve each other.)

Original Nice was given the justice he derseved, with it not being a case of "old hero was actually an asshole and the new guy is much better". He is complex and flawed, with many complex emotions.

I don't have OCD, but based on my undertsanding, OG Nice seemed to be a good representation of that. Suddenly having obsessive thoughts with perfection, to the point that it affects your personal life and relationships, makes sense for him. He hadn't had these thoughts before and when his powers declared he would, it affected him deeply.

His persona was not wholly fake, because he genuinely wanted to be a hero. He was mainly a performer before (with the few clips we see of his life before), and that translated into his persona.

Then we have Wreck. My god, Wreck is just so unique in the series. When he appears first, you are intentionally made to believe that he's jealous of nice and wants Moon. In fact, most of the times he shows this anger is mainly in the romantic 'scenes' between Nice and Moon.

When the wedding happens, he aims straight for Nice. Because he wants answers. He wants to kniw why none of his texts got responses. When he gets punched, he immediately knows that Nice isn't his Nice.

His character revolves mainly around a false narrative you are fed, before he outright breaks every piece. He cherishes Nice, and mourns him when he finds out about the suicide. His dreams, which began with him, seem near impossible to continue now that he's gone.

I don't know how his story will be continues, but I hope he shows up. He is a genuinely good character that I would love to see elaborated more. Especially since he is the only one left who seems to truly know Nice.

[sanjoongie]

Pink with Jealousy

🩷Jealous! Teez {a collab with the pirateeznet crew. See Flurry's @flurrys-creativity Seonghwa version here and Yeosang's here. With more to come from @daemour and @mingsolo !} My version of Wooyoung’s is here

🩷Pairing: Song Mingi x Reader (f)

🩷Au: idol au

🩷Trope: established relationship

🩷Genre: smut

🩷Rating: 18+, MDNI

🩷Warnings: couple arguments, penetrative sex without a barrier, wall sex, jealous sex, creampie,

🩷Word Count: 1,159

🩷Summary: Since you were going to a female kpop group's concert, Mingi didn't think you'd dress to impress. And now that he thought about the MALE fans at the Black Pink concert... well... he wasn't too keen on letting you leave the house 😜

You giggled into your phone, confirming last minute details with your friend on the phone. 

“No, seriously, with these outfits, we’re knockouts. I know I laughed at you and me taking the black pink color scheme literally, but it’s amazing.”

You were admiring yourself in the full length mirror in the hallway of your shared apartment with Mingi. All you had to do was grab your lightstick and purse and meet your friend and you’d be ready for your night out to see Black Pink.

Mingi, who had been lounging in the bedroom, stuck his head out. Your short dress and low neckline was making his eyes bug out. Originally, he hadn't had a second thought of you going out to see Black Pink. He had heard you gush enough about their stage outfits that he knew it made you happy to imagine yourself in such extravagant clothes. But now that you were dressed like a member of a girl group, with your pretty makeup and even prettier clothes, he had other thoughts.

Sure, you weren’t going to oogle other men on stage, but weren’t most Blinks other men going to see the talented girls on stage? What if they thought they might not have a chance with their biases, but they sure could shoot their shot at you? 

Mingi found himself working himself up with jealousy. You had never dressed so lavishly for him, even for your anniversary date. What was your true purpose with going to this concert? He slammed the door loudly, coming out in the hallway.

You jumped at the loud noise. Immediately spying the thunder-cloud over Mingi’s head and his stormy expression, you knew something was wrong. You quickly hung up on your friend with a rushed assurance you were leaving soon and faced your very angry boyfriend.

“Mingi?” You called out.

“Who are you really meeting at this concert?” Mingi demanded.

You frowned. “Mingi, you know I’m meeting my friend. You even helped me buy the tickets!”

Mingi gestured at your dress. “What am I supposed to think when you’re dressed like this? Saying you’re going to be a knockout?”

“Mings,” You said with sympathy coating your tongue. “You know you’re the only one I need in my life.”

Mingi’s features flickered with uncertainty before he shook his head. “You look like you’re going out to the club to pick up someone.”

You opened your arms wordlessly and Mingi fell into them with a small whimper. Your big, confident boyfriend was honestly a ball of anxiety even on a good day. Sometimes you forget how much assurance he truly needed from you. 

You hugged him tightly, making the air from his lungs push out in a rushed ‘uh’. “I promise, I just wanted to look good for myself. You know how that feels, right?”

Mingi nodded. If he was being honest, the minute you pressed your soft body up against his body, he was starting to have other thoughts than his previous jealousy. He slumped further against you, inadvertently pushing you up against the wall to help support his lanky form. “I know.”

You wove your fingers into his hair in an effort to comfort him further. “I gotta go, okay, baby? I don’t want to be late.”

Mingi smothered his face into your cleavage, pushing your breasts together and inhaling deeply. “How can I let you go out in public like this when I want you all to myself?”

Your nipples tightened at Mingi’s words but a thrill of worry shot through you. “Mingi, we can’t.”

Mingi tipped his head upwards to capture your gaze. His puppy, pleading eyes could not be ignored. “Please. It’ll make me feel better letting you go.”

You let out a shaky breath, knowing full well you couldn't say no to him like this. “O-okay, Mings. But we have to be quick.”

Mingi backed up slowly, already palming himself through his sweats. He pressed his lips together in anticipation. “I can do quick.”

The juxtaposition of Mingi moaning into the crook of your neck, mouthing at your collarbone versus the way his hips snapped into yours as he fucked you up against the wall in the hallway had you gushing wet, if you were being quite honest. His long fingers had sneakily tipped below your sweetheart neckline to play with your nipples, in almost a tease to you. You’d have to get undressed completely if you wanted him to suck on them and there was simply no time for that. 

“Ming-Mingi,” You hiccupped as Mingi thrusted into you with a particularly sharpness. “Fuck--”

Mingi raised his head, a small, satisfied smile pulling at his lips. “Good?”

“Good?!” You cried out. You swiped your thumb along his lips, your lip stain having transferred to his, making his pretty lips a shade redder than normal. “Sex with you is never just good, Mingi.”

Mingi’s eyes shaped into crescent moons, belaying his happiness in more than one way. “Babe, you know I love you, right?”

“Yes, Mingi, I know,” You laughed.

Mingi pouted, “And?”

“And I love you even more because you’re jealous,” You admitted.

Mingi held your head between his hands, regardless of the glitter all over it, and kissed you with his lips slanted across yours. His hips pistoned between your legs and you made an effort to lock your feet behind his back to keep your body in place. Your moans came out muffled against Mingi’s lips, crescendoing as Mingi brought you both to climax. You felt your nerves alight with pleasure and were gifted with Mingi’s low moan as he unloaded himself inside of you.

Mingi collapsed slightly, using his forearm to brace himself, keeping his forehead pressed against yours. “Fuck,” he cursed softly and you giggled.

Your phone buzzed and you realized frantically that your friend was probably wondering where you were. “Shit, Mingi, I gotta go!”

Mingi crouched before you and helped you pull up your underwear where it had been dangling precariously from your ankle before. Your eyes widened when he expected you to keep his cum inside of you during the concert.

“I want you to think about me while those Blinks are eyeing you up with hunger in their eyes. My cum will be inside of you and that makes me feel better,” Mingi said.

There was no time to argue otherwise, and if you were being honest to yourself, the idea was kind of hot, as much as it made you squirm. More than likely you were going to forget about it, jump up and down with your lightstick and then probably feel his cum leak out into your underwear. And by the look in Mingi’s eyes as he kissed you one more time before you left to meet them in front of the concert’s arena, he was looking forward to finding you in such a state. 

Post-concert sex would probably be great for post-concert depression, right?

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (21)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: established Stucky, caring mobsters, pregnant reader, polyamory, fluff, romance, a little angst

Indecent Proposal (20)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

“Doll, you need to calm down. I’m fine,” Steve sighs deeply. He cannot stop you from cleaning his knuckles with a swap. “We want you to eat something and have a warm bath.”

“Y/N,” Bucky runs his hand over your back. “Stevie is right. Let him clean his knuckles. I’ll get you something to eat.”

You shake your head and grab Steve’s wrist when he tries to pull away. “No. I need…I need something to do to keep my mind off what happened. Please let me do this.”

Both men look at each other and swallow thickly. It was more than a close call. They believed you were safest at their home. How very wrong they were.

One simple lie and the woman attacking you sneaked inside their well-guarded home to fulfill her mission. – To kill you and your babies.

“Steve,” Bucky knows exactly what’s going on in his husband’s mind, “don’t. We couldn’t know she’d try to sneak inside our home. She was bold and determined, I give her that.”

“We promised Y/N to protect her and failed,” Steve sniffs. “How can she still feel safe if that woman could easily sneak inside our home.”

“The security was looking for Rumlow, not that nurse. How should we have known, Steve? Sometimes we fuck things up. It happens.”

“It cannot happen, Buck!” Steve angrily replies. “We have a pregnant wife, and that woman almost killed her and our babies!”

You wrap your arms around Steve’s neck. “It’s not your fault. Bucky saved me.”

“Because he’s a horny bastard,” Steve wraps his arms around you and brings you in his lap. “I don’t want to think about what could’ve happened if he wasn’t such a horny dog.”

“Same—” Bucky is unusually silent tonight. He blames himself for not walking you to the bathroom. If only he followed you the moment you told him you needed to pee, the attack could’ve been avoided.

“It’s not your fault either, Buck. You saved me with your incredible knife skills,” you drip your head to look at Bucky. “Come here for cuddles.”

“Only for a moment. I need to talk to Jake about the security cameras and check on the gate again. We cannot risk another lapse.”

Bucky joins you and Steve. He wraps both of you in a hug and nuzzles his face in his husband’s neck. For a few moments, he allows himself to be a loving husband and soon-to-be father.

The moment he leaves the room, he’ll turn into the stone-cold mobster his enemies fear. He’ll give Rumlow no chance to escape or get even close to you.

Steve was right. It’s hunting season and James Buchanan Barnes will be the hunter bringing Rumlow down.

“Barnes, you can’t be serious,” Natasha hisses. “I was nothing but loyal to you, Steve, and your organization. I’d never betray you.”

“You’ve been loyal to the money you got from us. Nothing else. You don’t know shit about loyalty and to die for the people close to you. If you are standing in my way in this, I’ll make sure that you get out of my way.”

“Bucky,” she tries to sweet-talk herself out of the more than dangerous situation she’s in. If Bucky knows that she warned Rumlow, and told him to leave town weeks ago, she will end up dead. Just like the nurse. “I don’t know what has gotten into him.”

“We know,” Bucky sneers at Natasha. “This is about some woman who didn’t respect boundaries. She tried to kill Steve to have me all for herself.”

Bucky points at the manila folder on Natasha’s desk.

Natasha quirks a brow. She opens the folder and thumbs through the pages. “I see. She killed herself.” She hums. “But what has this to do with Rumlow?”

“She’s his ex-girlfriend. He didn’t take it well that she left him to live a better life in the big city. Rumlow took it even worse that she killed herself because I wouldn’t let her murder my husband.”

“In other words,” Natasha sighs deeply, “your dick got you in trouble.”

“That’s not funny, Romanoff,” Bucky spats. “If you know where Rumlow is, this is your last chance to help us. Think about it.” He places an envelope filled with money on her desk. “I’ll give you a choice.”

“What do you mean?” She furrows her brows.

“You can stand there and lie to me to protect Rumlow, or you’ll take the money to go on a vacation after you tell me where he is,” Bucky slides a knife out of his sleeve. He twirls it between his fingers while keeping an eye on Natasha. “I cannot guarantee your safety if you decide on protecting him, though.”

“You’re threatening me, Barnes?“ She huffs to sound confident, but in reality, she fears for her life.

“No,” he steps closer, holding his knife in a tight grip. “I’m telling you exactly what’s going to happen.” Bucky takes another step toward Natasha to underline his words. “I do not threaten people. If I tell you that I’m going to kill you, then you’ll end up dead.”

She sucks in a breath. Natasha is by all means not a damsel in distress or easily scared. This doesn’t mean she she's not intimidated when an angry James Buchanan Barnes stands in front of her, a knife in his hand.

“You can have a good life, Natasha,” he whispers lowly. “Enough money to fulfill all of your wishes.” Bucky dips his head to look at the pictures on her desk. “If you want to leave town, we can arrange that too. New identity, new life. No problem.”

“I only need to rat Rumlow out,” she bitterly replies. “It’s like I killed him myself if I do so.”

“Natasha, he sent that woman to kill Y/N and our babies. If he wants us dead because his ex-girlfriend killed herself, fine. But he went after Y/N. She has nothing to do with this shit. Rumlow crossed more than one line. You know that.”

“He tried to kill the babies?” Her eyes widen, and she drops the picture in her hands. “Why didn’t you tell me this first?”

“I thought you heard it through the grapevine,” Bucky scoffs. “So, what will it be, Nat? Are you in or out?”

“I tried to save his life, believing he’s after you because he tries to bring your empire down. I believed he’s a good cop, nothing else, Bucky.” She drops the manila folder on her desk. “If this is a vendetta because of some girl, he’s all yours.”

Bucky watches Natasha grab her phone. “I assume you’re all in.”

“I don’t want to know what happened to him. Barnes, whatever you do to him, his body cannot be found in my town. Get rid of him. Throw him into the Grand Canyon. I don’t care. Just don’t do it in my town.”

“Fine.”

“I can’t guarantee that he’s there,” she says while scribbling down two addresses and two phone numbers. “The first number is his normal phone. The other one is a burner phone he used to call me a few weeks ago. Maybe your little geek can trace one of his phones.”

“That’s a start,” Bucky grabs the piece of paper. “I was never here.” He warns, still not convinced that Natasha is on their side. “Remember, you didn’t hear of Rumlow for weeks and know nothing about his activities.”

“You should’ve been a man and come here yourself, not send a girl. If you want something to be done right, do it yourself.”

He can hear Rumlow suck in a breath at the end of the line. If only he stays on the phone for a little longer, Jensen can trace his phone and find out where the bastard is hiding.

Bucky squares his jaw and takes a deep breath. He hates being like this, but this can’t be helped.

“You know, she died too fast for my taste. I would’ve liked hurting her for a little longer. She tried to kill my wife and babies after all.”

“You damn bastard,” Rumlow growls into the phone. “First my girl, and then her sister? How can you look in the mirror, you monster.”

“What do you want to do about it?” Bucky laughs into the phone. “How about you man up and we meet to settle things between us…”

He dips his head to look at Jensen, his brows furrowed.

Jake nods silently pointing at the computer to tell Bucky he found Rumlow’s position…

Part 22

Tags in reblog.