#also i just generally find it uncomfortable to have this idea of a “good” and “bad” personality with Doey

[blackflash9]

[LONG POST INCOMING] First off, I want to thank you, @a-mx-writer, for the thoughtful, well-phrased response. I genuinely appreciate how much care you put into laying out your points. It’s clear you engaged with my post in good faith, and that’s honestly rarer than it should be. I have no beef; my only goal here is to explore the complexity of Suyin Beifong a little deeper.

Ok the thing is: there's a difference between a good character and a likable character. A character who pisses me off because she's so nuanced and human is a good character, in that she does a good job being lifelike and realistic and getting under my skin like a real person, but she's still an immensely unlikable character. That's the important difference. Suyin evokes emotions in me, probably more than any other character in Legend of Korra, so she's doing her job as a character very well.

You make a fundamental distinction between a character being “good” (well-written) and “likable” (morally admirable or emotionally pleasing), and I’m with you 100% on that. Not every good character has to be someone we like. Honestly, it's usually the ones who make us the most uncomfortable that reveal the most about ourselves and the world when we actually sit with what they make us feel.

That said, I think if we stop at just 'good vs. likable,' we risk missing some of what makes Suyin so interesting. Because she’s not just “well-written” in a technical sense, she's thematic. She's the beating heart of many of the messy, uncomfortable ideas Legend of Korra tries to wrestle with: control, autonomy, generational trauma, and what happens when political idealism collides with emotional reality. She’s not just meant to feel "human and annoying." She’s meant to hold a mirror up to us to challenge how we think about growth, forgiveness, leadership, and family.

Of course, everyone’s emotional reaction to a character is personal, and not every character is meant to be universally likable. But when a character consistently evokes strong reactions, good or bad, that usually points to something deeper going on, and with Suyin, I think that’s very much the case.

The thing that really ticks me off about her is that she reminds me so much of people I know, because she's insufferable in the exact same ways. Especially in her interactions with Lin: she refuses to see any fault with herself--

I hear you. While reacting strongly to characters who mirror difficult people or experiences from real life is understandable, it’s also important not to conflate that emotional reaction with the author's intent. And honestly, this feels more like the former.

Like I said earlier, many people come into Legend of Korra expecting characters, especially ones like Suyin, to have a clean “lesson of the week” arc, where everything wrong about them is wrapped up neatly and resolved by the end of their appearance. And when that doesn’t happen, when a character grows like a real, messy human being instead of a cartoon moral, it frustrates people.

I’m not gonna pretend Suyin handled everything perfectly. She rationalizes and deflects in her youth, especially around Lin, and even as an adult, she struggles with guilt and defensiveness. But that’s part of the point. The show isn’t pretending it didn’t happen; it’s showing us that imperfect people don’t always heal perfectly. Family hurt doesn’t always have a clean ending. And growth isn’t always tidy or satisfying to watch. It's why Lin does regressive things like accusing Suyin of having something to hide and being part of the Red Lotus plot, or Suyin lying and hiding her ulterior motives in letting Korra and the crew go to find Aiwei.

--she successfully makes everyone seek the blame with Lin and deflects blame from herself. She makes Lin appear unreasonable (and you can see this happen with a big share of the fandom, not just the characters in the show); she makes her share of the fault appear negligible because she's calm and soft-spoken and appears rational, so that it appears like Lin is just baselessly flying off the handle.

I think it’s a real stretch to say she “makes everyone seek the blame with Lin.” Who’s even "everyone" here? The only remotely involved characters are Korra, who barely knows what’s happening, and Opal, who apologizes for her family and actively tries to connect with Lin.

The bigger issue is that: Lin refuses to talk about it. Korra tries to understand, but Lin immediately shuts her down. As for appearing negligible, I perceived it as Suyin not wanting to air out their dirty laundry, which honestly feels respectful; it’s their business, and she treats it that way. When asked, Suyin is the only one willing to provide some context. The Metal Clan (transcript)

Korra: "It's amazing. Thank you for being so welcoming. And I'm sorry for how Lin's been acting. Can I ask what happened with you two?" Suyin: "It's complicated. We didn't have a normal childhood. Neither of us knew our fathers and Toph was always busy being Chief of Police. Because mom grew up in such a strict household, she gave us all the freedom in the world, hoping we'd figure out our own paths." Korra: "That sounds like a good thing." Suyin: "And in a way it was. But we both ended up fighting for mom's attention. Lin followed in her footsteps and became a cop. I was ... more of a rebel. Mom wasn't too happy with how either of us turned out."

The problem is, when Lin bottles everything up and lashes out like she does at Opal, she ends up making her pain extremely visible without explaining where it’s coming from. That leaves everyone else to fill in the blanks and make assumptions. And honestly, that doesn’t help Lin’s case. The show isn’t punishing Lin for her trauma, but it is showing that bottling resentment for multiple decades, refusing to communicate, and lashing out at the wrong people isn't a sign of strength. It’s painful, it’s isolating, and it’s ultimately self-destructive.

Meanwhile, Suyin, for all her flaws, has at least found a healthier way to process her past and trauma. That’s why Korra says what she says. Not because Korra wants to hurt Lin, but because, based on what Korra knows and sees (which honestly isn’t much), that’s the only conclusion she can reach.

Korra: "What's your problem? Don't get mad at Opal. I asked her to talk to you because I thought it would help you snap out of whatever funk you're in. But I guess I was wrong." Lin: "Why don't you focus on fixing the world, and stop trying to fix my family?" Korra: "Su's right. You're never going to change. You're always gonna be a bitter, lonely woman."

And even then, Korra’s not really a reliable narrator here. She doesn’t have siblings. She doesn’t understand the depth of what’s happening between Lin and Suyin; she's just reacting with the emotional tools she does have. That’s not a "Suyin manipulation" thing; that’s Lin struggling under 30 years of resentment and hurt. The show frames the struggle with sympathy without pretending it's a healthy or sustainable way to live.

Suyin isn’t perfect. Lin isn’t perfect. And that’s what makes their relationship feel so real: it’s messy, it’s painful, and it asks you to sit with both their flaws at the same time.

--I've had too many Suyins in my life IRL, and it's a testament to the way she's written and comes across so lifelike (props to the voice actress too) that she gets my blood boiling the exact same way as those people IRL.

This kind of response is actually a good example of what I was getting at earlier when emotional reasoning starts to blur the line between what we feel and what’s actually in the text. Like, “Suyin reminds me of people who hurt me” is a completely valid personal reaction. But it’s easy for that to turn into “Suyin is abusive and manipulative and the story says so,” even if the story doesn’t actually frame it that way. ( ← Not saying you are doing that, just using it to make the point.)

Strong emotional reactions aren’t a bad thing at all great stories are supposed to hit nerves and stir stuff up. But when we’re trying to analyze those stories critically, it helps to pause and ask: “Is this really what the story is saying, or is this what I’m bringing to it?” Because if we don’t make that distinction, it’s easy to end up projecting real-life experiences onto characters and judging them by association not by how they’re actually written.

And again, that's not a callout just something to be mindful of, especially with characters like Suyin. She’s written to be complex and human, and I think that kind of nuance deserves a bit more empathy and compassion when we talk about her.

--It's the same way with Toph, too, who just brushes off the whole debacle as Lin clinging to the past while she – complicit in Su's fuckup, accessory after the fact – considers the matter closed because she and Su made up and that's it. It's a textbook example of the kind of negative peace you see so often in dysfunctional families, where two people who fucked up unilaterally decide the problem is solved, and the person who was fucked over is painted as a troublemaker for not letting herself be talked over.

Toph isn’t complicit, she’s avoidant, and the show frames that as a flaw. Suyin isn’t declaring anything “closed” or manipulating anyone; she tries to make amends and gives Lin space, even when it’s hard. Calling that “negative peace” flattens the real nuance the story is going for. Not every portrayal of family dysfunction is a secret power play sometimes it’s just messy people trying and failing. Projecting personal trauma onto that doesn’t make it canon. And honestly… look at Lin. Look at how at peace she is by the end. Does that look like someone who was steamrolled into silence?

Because at the end of the day, she took her suffering under Toph's bad parenting out by getting into organised crime,

“Because she got into organized crime” — that’s already a stretch. The episode never confirms she stole anything; Suyin explicitly says she was just the getaway driver. Old Wounds (transcript)

Lin: "So you're robbing stores with the Terra Triad now?" Suyin: "I didn't steal anything. I just drove the car. I owed my friends a favor. It's not a big deal."

Is that still illegal? Of course. But “organized crime” makes it sound like she was some teenage mob boss, when what we’re shown is a lost girl acting out. She wasn’t some hardened criminal, she was a teenager with no father, an emotionally unavailable mother, and a constant, unspoken competition for that mother’s affection. She sought recognition in the wrong places. That doesn’t excuse what she did, but it explains it and the show treats it that way too. And honestly, the way fandom talks about her feels like a double standard. This kind of backstory troubled youth, finds a way forward is practically a trope for male characters. But when a girl does it? Suddenly it’s unforgivable. There’s also this weird idea that growth doesn’t “count” unless it’s preceded by punishment. Like Suyin building Zaofu, raising a family, and trying to contribute to the world means she “got off easy.” It doesn’t. It means she put in the work to be better. That should matter.

--she assaulted Lin

Incorrect. It was clearly an accident, and Suyin even reacts as such.

-- Suyin is, briefly put, a well-developed, nuanced, lifelike portrayal of a giant fucking asshole. She's a great character with understandable motivations and origins, whose actions follow logically from her emotions and upbringing, and who behaves like a real person would. Like a real, awful person. Important difference. So to sum up, yes, she is too human and familiar. But her being too human isn't the issue, it's what kind of human she is.

No, Suyin isn’t “a giant asshole.” She’s a flawed, emotionally complex character who’s made mistakes and has grown from them like anyone else. And you know what? She still has blind spots. That’s not the same as being a bad person. That’s, once again, being human.

The idea that she’s “the wrong kind of human” is just another way of moralizing and saying we don’t like certain types of flaws, especially when they belong to women who are ambitious, commanding, or emotionally complicated. But Suyin’s arc isn’t about redemption through punishment. It’s about quiet, imperfect growth: building something better, trying to show up for others, and occasionally stumbling in the process.

Meanwhile, Lin, a fantastic character, is often presented as the emotional center of this dynamic, and understandably so. But that sometimes leads to her experiences being framed as the truth, rather than her truth.

Suyin’s the kind of character who benefits from being approached with an open mind, a little patience, and maybe even some compassion. You don’t have to like her. But I hope this post helped unpack why there’s more to her than just being “awful.” She’s not here to be a scapegoat for every unresolved family dynamic. She’s here to reflect how messy, unglamorous healing and human contradiction can look, and I think that’s worth sitting with. And many of us love her for it.

People always say they want complex characters. They ask for nuance, for gray areas, for emotional depth and realistic growth. But when a character starts feeling too real, so much so that they stop acting like someone in a story and start feeling like someone you could actually meet – that's when the discomfort kicks in. That's when admiration often turns into criticism. And very few in The Legend of Korra walks that tightrope quite like Suyin Beifong.

Su doesn’t follow the typical “lesson of the week” formula. She doesn’t get handed a tidy moment of reckoning, followed by an instant transformation. Her arc isn’t flashy or obvious. It’s slow, subtle, and sometimes contradictory. Just like real people. Because the truth is, most of us don’t change overnight. We grow a little here, slip back there. We learn something, but that doesn’t mean we always apply it in every situation. That’s Suyin in a nutshell.

Look at how she changes as a mother. At first, she tries to micromanage Opal’s choices out of fear, mostly, and a need to protect her. But eventually, she lets Opal go and lets her live her life without trying to control her path. That’s a win. That’s real growth. But then Baatar Jr. betrays the family, and Su reacts by putting him under house arrest. It’s easy to point at that and call it hypocrisy, but that misses the bigger picture. Her deepest fears for her kids came true with Baatar, and so, of course, she tries to regain some kind of control in the aftermath. And yet, she doesn’t try to rope Opal back in. She lets her stay free. That shows her earlier growth wasn’t erased, just complicated by pain.

This is the part people tend to ignore. They rush to call her a hypocrite without stopping to think about what hypocrisy really is. People are full of contradictions. We want conflicting things. We act on emotion. We stumble. We grow unevenly. No one is morally consistent all the time. Su isn’t some moral failure she’s just human. And that’s what unsettles people. They want characters who get what’s coming to them or learn the “right” lesson. But Su doesn’t fit into that framework. She just keeps going, flaws and all.

That’s also what makes her so compelling. She’s not a straightforward hero or a satisfying villain. She’s a complicated woman trying to balance power, family, control, and identity in ways that are messy and real. When people critique her, it’s often not because she doesn’t make sense, but because she makes too much sense.

She’s too familiar. Too human.

Everyone says they want nuanced characters... until they’re faced with someone like Suyin. Someone who holds up a mirror. And when that reflection hits a little too close to home, people tend to look away. But it’s in that raw honesty where her character really shines.

[pain-is-too-tired]

I'm a Kevin Barnes defender 100%

That is my son. He did nothing wrong 😤

No but seriously, the way people talk about him like he isn't a traumatized kid reacting to grief after loosing almost everything he had. I'd snap too.

Poppy didn't explain at all why she left the first time, then she somehow one the few that survived and she's not even at Safe Haven when we get there?? And not only are we an ex-employee, but someone who came in with Poppy. I can't be mad at him. I'd attacked us too.

[softness-and-shattering]

.

[freezerbrldes]

wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs? - s.r. (part 1 of the short n sweet series)

PART 1, PART 2,

PAIRING. spencer reid x popstar!reader

SUMMARY. spencer gets a lot more than he bargained for when he attends a concert with garcia.

WARNINGS. afab!reader, sub!spencer, softdom!reader, oral (m receiving), use of handcuffs, begging, red lipstick in places it should never be, unprotected pnv sex, creampie, just pure filth, also not proof read

AUTHOR’S NOTE. i got this idea after rewatching my short n sweet concert videos. i could not get the thought of spencer receiving the juno handcuffs out of my head so I wrote it all down. i hate the beginning and ending of this a lot but the middle is so good hehe.

credit to @cafekitsune for dividers

wc: 4,029

also on ao3

Garcia gripped Spencer’s hand tightly, pushing through the crowd until they reached the barricade next to the stage.

“Holy shit Spence! We made it!” Garcia cheered.

“Nice, that’s great… I think i’m going to pass out.” Spencer pants, gripping onto the railing for dear life.

Spencer, who isn’t particularly fond of concerts or music in general, reluctantly agreed to attend this show solely to appease Garcia’s relentless begging. Concerts were not Spencer’s forte, that was until he saw you up on the stage prancing around in lingerie…

Despite his initial discomfort, Spencer finds himself inexplicably drawn to your energetic performance. Your confidence, charisma, and raw talent captivate him more with each passing song.

As you move about the fake penthouse on stage with reckless abandon, your provocative attire leaving very little to the imagination, Spencer's analytical mind struggles to reconcile his attraction with his deeply ingrained social awkwardness.

He tries to focus on the music, his thoughts consumed by the intricate details of your choreography and the way your skin seems to shimmer under the bright lights.

Spencer's cheeks flush slightly as he realizes the extent of his distraction, his heart racing in a way that's both unfamiliar and exhilarating. He shifts uncomfortably, tugging at his sweater vest as he attempts to regain some semblance of composure.

After performing a very heartfelt ballad, you approached the edge of the stage, scanning the crowd with your eyes.

“Hey, girls?” you call out to two of your dancers who are standing by your side. “I believe I might have found my future husband in the crowd tonight.”

The crowd erupted in cheers as they realized the clever bit.

“Do y’all see him? He’s standing right over there, the tall one wearing the sweat vest.” You point to Spencer while giggle like schoolgirls with your dancers.

“Hey there, baby. What’s your name?” A grin spread across your face as you noticed his cheeks flushing a vibrant red.

Caught completely off guard, Spencer stammers, his hazel eyes wide as saucers. He feels like he's been struck by lightning, the sudden intimacy of you presence leaving him momentarily speechless.

"Dr. Reid," he manages to choke out, his voice cracking slightly. He can feel his face burning, and his heart hammers against his ribcage like a jackrabbit.

"I-I mean, Spencer," he corrects himself, the remnants of his professional demeanor trying to resurface amidst the chaos of his escalating nervousness.

Spencer swallows hard, trying to gather his scattered thoughts as he meets your intense gaze. The mischievous glint in your eyes sends a shiver down his spine, even as his analytical mind struggles to comprehend the whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

“Oooooo, a doctor!” You exclaim, dramatically fanning yourself. “Well, Dr. Reid, you’re under arrest for being too hot.”

Spencer jumped as police sirens blared through the arena, accompanied by flashing red and blue lights.

“I might need you to examine me, doctor. I feel extremely hot, and- OH!” You teased as your long skirt fell to the floor, revealing a much shorter version of it.

Spencer’s jaw was practically on the floor.

You grinned as you inched closer towards the edge of the stage, crouching down to Spencer’s level.

“I want you to have these,” you smiled as you handed Spencer a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs.

Spencer can't help but stare at the exposed skin of your legs, his breath catching in his throat when he notices the bedazzled lipstick stain on your inner thigh.

"Ah, um, thank you..." He reaches out to take the offered cuffs, his fingers brushing against hers. The sensation sends sparks dancing along his nerve endings, and he feels himself grow flustered once more.

As you stood up, you blow Spencer a kiss. The all too familiar intro to the song Penelope had been forcing him to listen to for the past few weeks, began to play.

“This song is for you, Spencie,” you winked as you started singing, maintaining eye contact throughout the entire first verse.

Spencer's eyes widen further, his mouth agape as he watches you prance down the catwalk. The provocative lyrics and suggestive dance moves leave him utterly stunned, his cheeks flushed a deep crimson.

His analytical mind tries to process the explicit nature of the performance, but it's drowned out by the pounding of his heart and the heat coursing through his veins. He finds himself captivated by every move you makes, his gaze riveted to your lithe form.

When you strikes a pose that leaves little to the imagination, Spencer's breath hitches, and he feels a strange tingling sensation in his loins. It's foreign yet exhilarating, and he can't tear his eyes away, even as his rational brain screams at him to look away.

As the song reaches its climax, Spencer finds himself caught up in the raw energy emanating from the stage. The crowd's cheers and applause mingle with the pulsating beat, creating an electric atmosphere that seems to vibrate through every cell in his body.

Lost in the moment, Spencer's inhibitions begin to melt away, replaced by a primal urge to respond to the sensual stimuli before him. When your gaze locks onto his, he feels a jolt of connection, as if an invisible thread tethers them together.

With a sense of reckless abandon he rarely experiences, Spencer raises the fuzzy pink handcuffs as he grins, his movements deliberate and charged with newfound confidence. As the final notes fade, he couldn’t help but notice the smile on your face as the lights dimmed and the show ended.

“Wow,” is the only word Garcia could mutter as she stares at the empty stage. “I can’t believe she gave you the handcuffs, do you know how lucky you are?”

“You know, the probability of me receiving these is incredibly low, considering there are approximately 14,000 people here and-“ Before Spencer could continue his rambling, he and Garcia approached a security guard.

“Are you Spencer?” the intimidating-looking security guard asked.

“Uh, yeah, that would be me,” Spencer stuttered, feeling a pang of worry that he might have overstepped some boundaries during his interactions with you on stage.

“I’ve been informed by y/n’s management that she is requesting to meet you backstage,” the security guard said.

"Backstage? Me?" Spencer looks at Garcia incredulously, wondering if this could be some kind of joke. But the stern expression on the guard's face suggests otherwise.

Spencer stares at Garcia, completely speechless. As the security guards wait for his response, Garcia nudges his side and gently pulls him back to reality.

“I, uh, y-yeah,” Spencer stammers, “I’d love to go backstage,”

“Alright, follow me,”

Spencer waves to Garcia as the guard guides him through the concealed corridors of the arena, observing the crew dismantling the stage to transport it to the next venue.

After what appears to be an eternity, Spencer is led to the door of your dressing room. You’re lounging on the couch in a soft, fluffy robe, engrossed in scrolling through your phone when you hear the door open.

“Hi!” You greet Spencer with a warm smile, standing up and embracing him. “Thanks so much for coming.”

Spencer's heart races as you pull him into a warm embrace, his senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating scent of your perfume and the softness of your robe against his skin. For a moment, he forgets how to breathe, his mind reeling from the unexpected touch.

When you finally release him, Spencer takes a step back, trying to compose himself. His cheeks flush a deep crimson, and he fumbles with the hem of his sweater vest, clearly flustered.

"T-thank you...for inviting me," he stutters, his voice barely above a whisper. Despite his social awkwardness, there's a genuine sincerity in his tone, reflecting his gratitude for this rare opportunity to connect with someone like you.

Glancing around the cozy dressing room, Spencer notices the array of makeup, costumes, and personal items scattered about.

“I hope you don’t think I’m weird but I couldn’t take my eyes off of you all night,” you admit as you plopped onto the couch, your cheeks now flushed pink from embarrassment. “The handcuff thing is just a funny little bit I do, but tonight I chose you because I really do think you’re insanely hot.”

“N-no, it’s not weird at all, I’m flattered actually,” Spencer stammered, taking a seat next to you.

“Really? You’re not weirded out that I had my security find you in the crowd and bring you backstage so we could meet?“ You asked.

"No, genuinely, I mean it," Spencer says, his eyes locking with yours as he spoke. "I know we’ve just met, but I felt a connection with you tonight, something that went beyond mere admiration."

Spencer shifted slightly, his knee brushing against yours.

“And that handcuff thing...well, it was a bold move, and it worked.”

A faint blush colored his cheeks as he met your gaze again, his hazel eyes shimmering with a mix of shyness and curiosity.

As the silence between you stretches, Spencer finds himself drawn to the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the way your robe gapes slightly, offering a tantalizing glimpse of your skin. He swallows hard, trying to ignore the strange tingles coursing through his body.

Before he could say another word, your lips crash against his.

Spencer's eyes widen in shock as your lips suddenly press against his, the unexpected kiss sending a jolt of electricity through his entire being. For a moment, he freezes, unsure of how to react.

But then, as if possessed by some newfound courage, Spencer's arms wrap tentatively around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. His lips part instinctively, allowing your tongue to slide past them and explore the warmth of his mouth.

Spencer's fingers tangle in your hair, his other hand resting on the small of your back, guiding you more firmly against him. He can taste the sweetness of your red lipstick mixed with the hint of adrenaline, and it only fuels his growing desire.

As the kiss deepens, Spencer's thoughts become a jumbled mess – part confusion, part exhilaration, and an overwhelming sense of lust.

Spencer gasps softly as your lips leave a trail of red across his sensitive skin, the sensation both unfamiliar and intoxicating. His head tilts back, exposing more of his neck to your explorations.

When your fingers start to work on his buttons, Spencer's breath hitches. He's hasn’t been this intimate with anyone since Maave, and the idea of baring himself to you, a complete stranger who’s also a mega superstar, sends a thrill through his veins.

As you continue to undress him, Spencer's hands roam over your back, tracing the curves of your spine beneath the thin fabric of your silk robe. He marvels at the softness of your skin, the warmth emanating from your body.

His shirt finally falls open, revealing his lean torso. Spencer feels a slight surge of vulnerability until he feels your lips on his collarbone.

Spencer's eyes flutter closed as your lips dance across his chest. When you drop to your knees in front of the couch, his heart races, a mix of nervousness and anticipation coursing through him.

The sound of his belt buckle clicking open sends a shiver down Spencer's spine. He watches, transfixed, as you work on freeing him from his pants. The air grows thick with tension, and Spencer's breathing quickens.

When your fingers brush against the growing bulge in his underwear, Spencer lets out a shaky exhale. It’s been awhile since he has been touched so intimately, and the sensation is overwhelming yet exhilarating.

With trembling hands, Spencer reaches down to help you remove his pants, his eyes locked onto yours. A flush spreads across his cheeks as he reveals himself to you, feeling both exposed and strangely empowered by your reaction.

“So pretty,” You breathed out, your hands brushing against his hard cock.

Spencer's eyes widen at your words, a rush of heat flooding his cheeks. No one has ever spoken to him like that before, with such raw, unfiltered admiration. It takes his breath away.

A soft moan escapes him as your hands make contact with his straining erection, the touch sending jolts of pleasure straight to his core. Spencer's hips twitch involuntarily, seeking more of your gentle caresses.

He looks down at you, his hazel eyes dark with desire, and whispers, "Please... I need..." His voice trails off, unable to articulate the intensity of his longing.

Spencer's slender fingers thread through your hair, holding you close as he waits with bated breath for your next move. His body trembles with anticipation, every nerve ending attuned to your touch.

As you feel his fingers tangled in your hair, you get an idea. You let go of him as you sit back on your knees, Spencer letting out a whimper at the loss of contact.

“Do you still have the handcuffs?” You asked, grinning wickedly.

Spencer gulped as he nodded, pointing to his discarded pants on the floor next to you. You dig through the pocket to pull out the fuzzy pink handcuffs you gave to him only an hour prior.

“Hands behind your back, Spencie,” You smirked as you dangle the cuffs in front of him.

"Yes, ma'am," he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of playfulness despite the vulnerability of his position.

A startled yelp escapes Spencer's lips as the handcuffs encircles his wrists, securing them behind his back. The sudden restraint sends a thrill through him, mingling with the lingering ache of want.

He stares up at you, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, as you fasten the cuffs with a playful snap. The term of endearment 'Spencie' slips past your lips, and it feels like a brand, searing itself into his very being.

Spencer's body quivers under your gaze, his skin prickling with anticipation. The pink cuffs seem almost comical against his pale, slender arms, but the effect they have on him is anything but humorous.

Spencer's breath hitches as your lips brush against his, the fleeting kiss sending a spark of electricity through him. He leans into it instinctively, craving more of your touch, even as you move to kneel in front of him once again.

A low groan rumbles in his chest as your hand wraps around his shaft, stroking him with confident, deliberate motions. Spencer's head falls back, exposing the vulnerable column of his throat, as he surrenders himself to the sensations coursing through him.

“Oh God," he gasps, his hips bucking slightly into your grasp. “That feels... incredible." Each word is punctuated by a sharp intake of breath, his body tensing and relaxing in time with your touches.

The restraints digs into his skin, a subtle reminder of his submission to you.

Spencer's eyes widen in shock as your warm, wet mouth envelops him, the sensation unlike anything he's ever experienced. A choked moan tears from his throat, his hips jerking involuntarily as you begin to suck him deeper.

The sight of your red lips wrapped around his cock, the vibrant color smeared across his flesh, is almost too much for Spencer to bear. He can't tear his gaze away from the erotic image, transfixed by the way your tongue swirls around his sensitive tip.

“Oh fuck, that's..." he trails off, unable to form coherent thoughts amidst the onslaught of pleasure. His mind reels, struggling to process the intensity of the feelings coursing through him.

Spencer's chest heaves with ragged breaths, his body trembling as he submits to your skilled ministrations.

As you take him deeper into your mouth, Spencer's control begins to slip. The feeling of your hot, wet tongue swirling around his length is overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure crashing over him.

"Ah! Oh God, yes!" he cries out, his voice strained with need. His hips thrust forward instinctively, lost in the haze of lust as you bob your head along his shaft.

"I'm... I'm going to cum," he warns, his words punctuated by shallow pants. Spencer's grip on the cushions tightens, his muscles coiled taut as he teeters on the brink of climax.

Before he’s thrown over the edge, you pull away abruptly, looking up at him and giggling as he writhes around desperately.

Spencer’s cock twitches and leaks precum from the loss of stimulation. A pained whine escapes his lips, his hips reflexively bucking up in search of your warm mouth.

"No, please don't stop," he begs, his voice laced with desperation. Spencer's chest heaves with rapid breaths, his body wracked with the need for release.

His hazel eyes, usually bright, are dark with desire, pupils blown wide as he gazes at you with pleading intensity. The remnants of his earlier composure have crumbled, leaving only raw, unbridled lust in its wake.

“I need you," Spencer confesses, his admission torn from him like a bandaid.

As you stand in front of Spencer, his gaze is immediately drawn to your body as you slowly untie your robe, mirroring the opening of your show. The sensual movements and provocative poses are etched into his consciousness like a fever dream.

His breath catches in his throat as the fabric parts, exposing the tantalizing expanse of your skin inch by delicious inch. Spencer's eyes drink in every detail – the delicate freckles scattered across your shoulders, your nipples already hardened into peaks, the gentle swell of your hips leading down to your thighs.

“Please," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. “Let me touch you.”

Spencer's hands fight against the handcuffs, the urge to reach out and touch you, to claim you as his own is nearly overwhelming.

You toss the robe onto the floor next to Spencer’s clothes as you straddle his lap, leaving more lipstick stains across his face until your month reaches his ear.

“Beg for it,” you whispered, softly nibbling on his earlobe, causing him to whimper. “Beg me to let you touch me.”

A shiver runs down Spencer's spine as your warm breath caresses his ear, your whispered command igniting a fire within him. His mind reels, desperate to comply, to plead for the privilege of touching your gorgeous body.

"Oh God, please," he gasps, his voice trembling with need. “Let me touch you, please. I wa- I need to touch you."

Spencer's hips lift involuntarily, seeking friction against the soft flesh of your thigh. His fingers curl into fists, nails digging into his palms as he struggles against the restraints, yearning to wrap his arms around you and lose himself in your embrace.

"I'll do anything, please," he vows, his words dripping with sincerity and desire.

It doesn’t take much more begging for you to give into his pleads.

The moment your lips meet his, Spencer surrenders to the intense passion, kissing you back with equal fervor. His hands, still bound, can't reciprocate physically, but his entire being leans into you, craving closer contact.

As you grind against his rigid length, Spencer moans into the kiss, the sensation of your heated core rubbing against his aching cock sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body. His hips buck instinctively, seeking more friction, more pressure.

Breaking the kiss, Spencer pants heavily, his hazel eyes glazed with lust.

“Fuck... I want you so badly," he admits, his voice ragged with desire. “Please, I need to be inside you."

Instead of speaking, you respond by unlocking the handcuffs. Thankfully since they are just a prop, they are easy to remove and don’t require a key.

Spencer is surprised and almost embarrassed by how easily they were removed, but he has no time to dwell on that as you begin lining him up with your entrance.

With the restraints gone, Spencer's hands immediately find purchase on your waist, gripping you tightly as he feels the head of his cock notch against your slick entrance. His breathing hitches, anticipation coiled tight in his belly.

When you position him, aligning his thick shaft with your waiting heat, Spencer lets out a low groan, his hips surging forward of their own accord. With a smooth, deep thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, a guttural moan escaping him at the exquisite feeling of your walls clenching around his sensitive flesh.

"Ah, fuck yes..." Spencer gasps, his forehead dropping to rest against yours as he savors the sensation of being fully embedded within you. “You feel so good.”

You can’t help the pornographic moan that escapes your throat as Spencer bottoms out. You are still as you both get use to the filling of him inside of you.

“Spencer,” You whimper, “you feel so fucking good inside of me.”

Spencer's eyes flutter shut as you start to move, your inner muscles massaging his cock in a delicious rhythm. The slow, deliberate pace allows him to savor every inch of your warmth enveloping him.

"Yes! oh God! just like that," he encourages, his voice strained with pleasure. “You're so tight, so perfect... Fuck!"

His hands slide down to grip your ass, fingers digging into the supple flesh as he begins to match your movements, thrusting in sync with your rolling hips. Each stroke sends sparks of bliss shooting up his spine, intensifying the building pressure in his groin.

"More, please...” Spencer pleads, his thrusts growing more urgent as he chases his own release.

You grant his wishes as you nestle your head into his neck, sucking softly on the sensitive skin just below his ear.

Spencer groans loudly in response. The sudden increase in tempo, coupled with the sensations of your mouth on his neck, sends him hurtling towards the edge. His breath comes in short, sharp gasps as he pistons in and out of your throbbing heat, driven by nothing but primal urges.

"Oh, shit... right there, just like that!" he grunts, his hand moving from your ass to rub rough circles over your clit. "I'm going to... Oh fuck!”

With a final, powerful thrust, Spencer hits his peak, his cock pulsating as it spills hot cum deep inside you. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over him, his vision blurring as he rides out his orgasm.

It doesn’t take long for you to finish, your body tenses above Spencer as he sloppily thrusts into you, riding out the remainder of your orgasms.

As the last tremors of your orgasms subside, You both collapse onto the couch, panting heavily as you try and catch your breath, your sweat-dampened skin pressing intimately against one another.

"That was… incredible," he manages to say, his voice hoarse from exertion. "You're amazing."

You carefully remove his softening member from your spent body. He pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you as he nuzzles into your hair.

"I never want this night to end," he confesses, his tone sincere and vulnerable. "But I know we should probably get cleaned up and back to reality soon.”

“Yeah, I need to be on the bus heading to New York in a few hours,” you replied, your voice laced with a hint of disappointment at the thought of possibly never seeing Spencer again.

A pang of disappointment and longing shoots through Spencer at the mention of your impending departure. He knows their whirlwind encounter can't possibly lead to anything long-term, given the vast differences in their lives, but that doesn't diminish the strong connection he feels.

"I understand," he says quietly, reluctantly loosening his hold on you. "Well, um, if you’re ever back in town, I’d love to maybe get coffee together.”

Spencer's eyes search yours, hoping to find some glimmer of agreement, even as he anticipates the likely rejection. It's a fragile thread, but it's all he has to cling to as he faces the prospect of saying goodbye.

“I’d love too,” you smiled, brushing some of the hair that had gotten stuck to his sweaty forehead.

Spencer returned your smile as he got dressed and headed for the door.

“Wait!” You shouted, causing Spencer’s head to whip back around.

“You almost forgot these,” you say, handing him the fuzzy pink handcuffs. He chuckles and tucks them into his pocket before disappearing out the door.

[svt-luna]

let me start by saying I absolutely love your creativity and story telling! Your Luna pieces are so refreshing and I look forward to reading them!!

We have seen a jealous Jeonghan, and I was hoping we could see the jealous side of Luna. As much as I love an unbothered queen, I think it would be interesting to see how she would react in a jealousy situation.

𝜗℘ THE BOY IS MINE

❛ 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱, 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩. 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘪'𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥, 𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦— 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦. ❜

timeline: 2023

synopsis: In the city of love, Luna finally snaps and learns just how far she’ll go to protect what’s hers.

warnings: 18+ mdni, mature content, sexual content, smut, cursing, possessive!Luna, angry!Luna, Luna’s self-conflicting thoughts, sexual tension, flirting, subtle innuendos, alcohol consumption, kisses!, pet names, piv sex, unprotected sex (girly pop is on birth control), teasing, dirty talk, dry humping, riding, degradation, edging, Jeonghan the menace, Jeonghan’s desire to be possessed, lowkey toxic, a little bit of a red flag for the both of them, they are both freaky af, pure filth!

thank you so so much for loving my works! also, thank you for requesting this, i absolutely fell in love with this idea— i have also been getting a lot of possessive!Luna and angry!Luna requests so i have mixed all of those ideas here. plus, you guys voted for a smut for this one on my last poll… so here it is! so i hope you lovely humans enjoy it!!

‘freak like me, you wanna good girl that does bad things to you.’ that reminds me of them.

Disclaimer: The following chapter contains explicit sexual content and mature themes. It is intended for adult readers only. If you are under the legal age or find these subjects uncomfortable, it is advised for you to refrain from reading further. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ writings masterlist

There was a quiet shadow that hovered over Luna.

It had been there for as long as she could remember— silent, unseen by others, but always present. It wasn’t something she could simply brush away or ignore, no matter how much she tried.

At first, it had confused her, this weight that pressed down on her chest, something that tugged at her insides, tightening like a vine when certain people or situations crossed her path. But over the years, she had learned to understand it, control it, and accept it as a part of her personality.

It wasn’t something to fear— just a quiet burden she had grown used to carrying.

Luna remembers the first time she noticed that quiet shadow.

She was seven years old, back in Kensington, London. Her memories of that time are vivid— her mom, graceful and elegant, the very image of a ballerina, guiding her students with precision and patience. Luna’s mom had once been a professional ballerina, but after an injury ended her dancing career, she became a ballet teacher, molding the next generation of dancers.

She was who Luna aspired to be, her biggest inspiration. Luna loved ballet because of her mom. It was her way of connecting with the person she admired most, the person she wanted to be like— this was before music had stolen her heart before she dreamed of stages and lights and becoming an idol.

One day, during one of their ballet classes, Luna sat at the edge of the dance floor, her small hands gripping the bar as she watched her mom in the middle of the studio. Her mother was focused, and poised, her sharp eyes tracing the movements of each student as they worked through their routine. But that day, her attention was particularly fixed on one new student— Mila.

Mila was good. Even Luna had to admit that. Her lines were sharp, her movements fluid in a way that most of the other girls in the class couldn’t quite replicate.

Luna’s mom corrected her form, praised her posture, and used her as an example for the rest of the class. She wasn’t biased— Luna’s mom would never show favoritism just because Luna was her daughter. She was a professional, and Luna understood that, even at seven.

Luna didn’t expect her mom to treat her differently from the other students, nor did she want her to. She wanted to earn her mother’s praise the same way everyone else did.

And yet, something about that day sat uncomfortably with her. She wasn’t angry, she wasn’t even jealous that Mila was getting all of her mom’s attention.

Luna understood why.

Mila deserved the praise. She was graceful and talented. It made sense that her mom would focus on her. Luna could see that clearly.

But what bothered her was how Mila seemed to cling to her mom, how she wouldn’t leave her side after class ended. She followed her, asking questions, seeking more help with this step or that turn.

It wasn’t the attention itself that made Luna’s heart twist— after all, her mom was the teacher. It was her job to help the students.

Luna understood that, too.

But then, Mila had called her “Mom.”

That was the moment Luna met the shadow.

The quiet shadow that curled inside her, wrapping around her chest like a creeping vine, tightening, making her feel… strange.

She wasn’t mad, not really.

She knew her mom was just doing her job. But hearing Mila call her “Mom” made something inside Luna snap, something she didn’t fully understand yet.

It wasn’t jealousy— it was something different, more deeper.

An anger she hadn’t known existed until that moment.

How dare she? How dare Mila try to claim something that wasn’t hers?

Luna sat there, frozen in place, watching as her mother gently corrected Mila’s posture, oblivious to the turmoil brewing inside her daughter.

It was in that quiet moment, with Mila standing so close to her mom, that Luna realized she didn’t want to share.

Not her mother.

Not ever.

Luna remembered how ashamed she had felt for feeling that way.

Even as a child, it hadn’t made sense to her— this sudden, overwhelming wave of anger that had no real direction, no clear target.

It was Mila, but it wasn’t Mila’s fault.

It was her mother, but her mother had done nothing wrong.

The feeling that had curled up in her chest was irrational, something she couldn’t place, and she hadn’t liked it.

Not at all.

Luna hadn’t understood it at the time, but the way it made her skin prickle and her stomach tighten was something she wanted to forget.

She had ignored it, pushing it down deep where she wouldn’t have to face it, wouldn’t have to explain it to herself.

Because how could she? How could she explain a feeling so ugly, so selfish?

She had done nothing about it that day. She had simply sat there, forcing a smile when her mom looked over, her small hands clenched into fists behind her back as she tried to shake off the knot in her throat. And she had told herself it was a one-time thing.

Just a bad day.

She thought she had been tired, maybe hungry, even sick— anything to explain away the strange feelings she couldn’t put words to.

That was it, Luna had thought. She was just having a bad day, and the odd tension in her chest would pass by tomorrow.

But it hadn’t.

Every now and then, when Luna least expected it, that quiet shadow would resurface.

It wasn’t constant— thankfully, it wasn’t something she had to deal with every day. But every once in a while, when someone tried to take or claim something that was hers, the feeling would crawl back into her mind, winding itself around her thoughts like it had all those years ago.

It was subtle and quiet in a way that made it easy to dismiss, but it was there.

Luna could feel it, simmering just beneath the surface.

It could be small things— someone borrowing her Barbie doll without asking or someone stealing her answers in school. Or it could be bigger moments, like when she noticed a friend growing too close to someone she cared about, or when someone new joined a group and immediately seemed to click with people she had known for years.

The feelings were rare, but they came.

And when they did, Luna would find herself reacting in the same way.

She would feel her face flush, red creeping up her neck, and a tightness would settle in her chest. Her gaze would harden, and she’d find herself glaring before she could even stop herself. Her eyes would burn, locking onto the person who had unknowingly triggered that shadow to stir.

But she never did anything about it.

Never once.

Luna was good at brushing it off, pretending it didn’t matter because she knew better. She was logical, rational. She prided herself on being someone who didn’t let her emotions control her. So she never let it show, never let it become something more than a fleeting thought.

Her mind would scream, her heart would pound, but outwardly, she remained composed.

Calm.

Luna never let herself act on it, because she was a good person.

She didn’t lash out, didn’t make a scene, especially not for something so petty. She told herself that it was her problem, not theirs. No one else seemed to notice these things— no one else saw a threat where she did.

It was all in her head, this quiet burden that only she carried.

However, there was only one person in existence who ever seemed to notice this shadow that clung to her, silent and unyielding.

And that was none other than Yoon Jeonghan.

Jeonghan had always been exceptionally good at reading people, an uncanny talent for seeing beyond the surface.

With Luna, though, it was different— he didn’t just read her, he understood her in a way that made her both comforted and unnerved.

He never asked too many questions, never pried, but the way he looked at her like he knew exactly what she was thinking, was something she could never quite shake.

It was during her trainee days at PLEDIS when Luna first realized just how much Jeonghan could see her— really see her.

She was sixteen, and the bright green walls of the infamous training room, known as the ‘Melona Prison,’ loomed around her and the rest of the trainees.

Boys and girls, all in their teens, filled the space, their laughter and chatter bouncing off the mirrored walls. It was another long day of practice, but as usual, they managed to steal moments to goof around, to release the tension building up from endless hours of training.

Jeonghan had been her closest friend back then.

Her best friend.

And she was his.

They were inseparable, the two of them gravitating toward each other with an ease that made everyone else assume they had known each other for years, when in reality, they had only met a few months prior.

Jeonghan had always been Luna’s safe place, the one person who could coax a laugh out of her even when she felt like she was drowning in exhaustion.

But on that particular day, Luna felt something stir inside her, something familiar yet unwanted.

She was sitting against the wall, catching her breath while the others horsed around, when her eyes drifted toward the far corner of the room.

There, Jeonghan stood, his back to her, talking to one of the female trainees— Seoyeon. They were close— closer than Luna liked, though she told herself it didn’t matter.

Jeonghan was charismatic, naturally friendly with everyone, and she had no reason— no right— to feel anything but indifference toward the scene playing out before her.

And yet.

Luna’s gaze sharpened when she saw him lean down, his hand coming up to playfully squeeze Seoyeon’s cheeks. She watched as the girl laughed, a bright, carefree sound that seemed to cut through the room. Jeonghan grinned at her, the way he always did, that smile of his that could disarm anyone in seconds.

Luna felt it again.

That tightening in her chest. The heat rushing to her face. Her hands curled into fists on her lap, her knuckles turning white as she stared at them.

She wasn’t mad.

She wasn’t jealous.

She had no reason to be.

Jeonghan was her best friend, and she knew how he was.

He wasn’t doing anything wrong.

And the trainee— she was just enjoying his attention.

Luna understood.

She understood perfectly well.

But why, then, was she so angry?

Jeonghan’s eyes flicked toward her then, catching her in her quiet storm. His gaze lingered on her for just a second too long before a grin spread across his face.

It didn’t even take him a moment to read her— he had known instantly, like he always did.

Leaving Seoyeon, Jeonghan strolled over to where Luna sat, his expression lazy, amused. He dropped down beside her without a word, his shoulder brushing against hers, and with that same teasing smirk, he reached out and squeezed her cheeks just like he had done to Seoyeon.

“Nana-ya,” he sang in that lilting, sing-song voice of his, his eyes twinkling with that hidden understanding that made Luna’s heart stop for a moment.

That’s when it clicked.

After years of brushing off that quiet shadow, after years of pretending it didn’t exist, Luna finally understood.

She had met this shadow before, but it wasn’t until now— until this exact moment, with Jeonghan sitting next to her, arm slung lazily around her shoulders— that she realized what it was.

Luna wasn’t jealous.

She had never been jealous.

As she sat there, Jeonghan’s presence steady beside her, watching the other trainees continue to fool around, Luna’s mind whirred with realization.

Luna didn’t want to be Seoyeon, just like she hadn’t wanted to be Mila all those years ago. She had no desire to trade places with them, to be in their shoes.

That wasn’t the problem at all.

No, what bothered her— what had always bothered her— was seeing someone else take what was hers. Watching them try to claim something that belonged to her, something she held dear.

It wasn’t envy.

It was never about wanting what someone else had.

It was about protecting what was already hers.

Jeonghan gave her a knowing glance, his arm tightening slightly around her shoulders, and that was all it took.

In that moment, Luna understood.

The shadow she had known since she was a child wasn’t jealousy.

Jealousy was wanting something that wasn’t yours.

Possessiveness, however, was not wanting anyone to take what already belonged to you.

And Luna was possessive.

If jealousy is an ugly green friend, Luna’s friend was possessiveness, a quiet shadow, always hovering close, guarding fiercely and pulling tightly at whatever it holds dear.

Possessiveness.

The word tasted bitter in Luna’s mind, like something dark and twisted that she couldn’t shake no matter how hard she tried.

She despised it.

Even the sound of it in her thoughts made her skin crawl.

Possess.

It was a word meant for things— objects, items you could hold, keep, or claim as your own.

But not people.

People weren’t possessions.

They weren’t things you could control, own, or dictate.

And yet, she felt it— deeply.

From time to time, that ugly shadow would wrap its fingers around her chest, tightening with every breath until she felt suffocated by it.

It was a feeling she had grown to hate.

Luna didn’t want to possess anyone.

She never wanted to be the kind of person who clung to someone so tightly that it hurt.

People weren’t objects to own. They had their own lives, their own choices, their own freedom. And yet, the shadow— her shadow— didn’t care about that. It didn’t care about logic or reason. It only cared about keeping what was hers close, about holding on so fiercely that no one else could ever take it away.

Luna hated it.

She found it toxic, the way it crept up on her, curling around her like smoke, impossible to escape. There were moments when the feeling would rise up in her chest like a wave, threatening to crash over everything she held dear.

But Luna always fought it. She had to.

She would remind herself that this wasn’t who she wanted to be, that people were not things to be controlled or claimed. Every time that feeling surfaced, she forced herself to ground it, to bury it deep inside where it couldn’t reach anyone else.

It was her burden to bear.

Even now, sitting in that green training room, the feeling flickered in her veins like an old, unwelcome memory.

Luna could feel it watching her, that quiet shadow, as Jeonghan laughed with someone else, as his hand touched someone else.

But she didn’t act on it. She never did. What would be the point?

Jeonghan wasn’t hers, not in the way that word implied. He was her best friend, sure, but she had no claim over him. No right to feel this way. So, she ignored it. She always did. She let the feeling settle somewhere in her chest, a familiar ache she was used to managing.

But deep down, Luna knew she couldn’t control when it would show up. And every time it did, she made sure to ground herself, to force herself not to react. To breathe through it until the feeling passed.

She never wanted to be ruled by it.

Luna glanced at Jeonghan, still sitting beside her, his arm draped lazily over her shoulder as if it was the most natural thing in the world. His warmth was steady and reassuring, but it was also a reminder— a reminder of the one person who could make her feel this way.

Jeonghan had always been the one who stirred something different in her, something she couldn’t quite explain. He was her closest friend, yes, but he was also the person who made her feel like this shadow had more power than it should.

And unbeknownst to sixteen-year-old Luna, at that very moment, the person who would make her feel the weight of this shadow more than anyone else for more years to come was sitting right next to her.

Yoon Jeonghan.

It was him.

It had always been him.

Jeonghan was Jeonghan.

There was something undeniable about him, something that people couldn’t help but notice.

He had the look— handsome in that effortless way that didn’t need to be flaunted. But “handsome” didn’t even cover it.

No, Jeonghan wasn’t just handsome.

He was beautiful.

Strikingly, impossibly beautiful.

His features were delicate but sharp, almost ethereal in a way that made Luna think, God, he’s beautiful every time she looked at him. But that wasn’t what made him special.

Jeonghan’s beauty was simply the surface of something much deeper.

He was naturally easy to be with. Effortless. Comfortable. People gravitated toward him, not just because of how he looked but because of how he made them feel. Jeonghan had a way of making anyone feel seecn like they mattered, like they were worth his time. He was charming, of course, but it was never forced. It was natural, something that seemed to come from him without any effort.

People just liked him, and it was no mystery why.

From their teen years in the cramped, fluorescent-lit practice rooms of PLEDIS to the bright lights of concert stages, from the endless hours of rehearsals to the long nights of sleepless training, Jeonghan had always been Jeonghan.

Their friendship had blossomed during those years, starting as something simple, easy, and natural. And from their trainee days to their debut, to their lives as successful idols, it had been the same.

The bond between them grew and deepened. The long hours spent together, the shared struggles and triumphs, the quiet moments in between it all— it was like they were always meant to find each other.

It had been gradual, a quiet blossoming from friendship into something more. It wasn’t a sudden realization for Luna. It was more like the slow unveiling of something that had been there all along, something neither of them had fully acknowledged until it became impossible to ignore.

And throughout it all, there was that strange feeling, the shadow lurking at the edges of her awareness.

Luna’s possessiveness.

Surprisingly, she realized early on that it didn’t apply to the members of SEVENTEEN, and thank God for that. When it came to them, Luna felt nothing but warmth, affection, and camaraderie. The idea of being possessive over her members felt absurd. They were family, an extension of herself in so many ways. She never minded when they were close with Jeonghan, never minded when they teased or hugged him.

And thankfully, it didn’t apply to the fans either. SEVENTEEN’s fans adored Jeonghan— of course they did. They loved him with a fervor that could only be described as awe-inspiring. And yet, when it came to them, that shadow never reared its head.

Luna felt nothing but gratitude toward them. In a way, they shared Jeonghan, all of them basking in the warmth of his presence, and that was fine.

It never bothered her.

For a long time, Luna thought maybe that strange feeling had disappeared altogether like she had outgrown it— an awkward teenage phase she’d left behind. She thought maybe she had matured, evolved past that irrational emotion, and put it to rest.

Until it showed up again.

And it was always because of Jeonghan.

It always was.

Luna realized, as time went on, that the possessiveness wasn’t something she’d outgrown.

It was just lying in wait, dormant, until the right circumstances stirred it back to life. And those circumstances always revolved around Yoon Jeonghan.

Even before they were officially together, Luna would noticed it.

Little moments that seemed harmless on the surface, but made that old familiar feeling stir within her chest. New staff members, stylists, random people who crossed their paths— everyone seemed to be drawn to Yoon Jeonghan like a magnet.

Luna would watch it happen, time and time again, seeing the way people gravitated toward him, and how they lit up when he flashed that effortless smile.

And each time, that shadow would bloom out of thin air, wrapping its fingers around her tightly.

It would start in her chest, a subtle tightening she tried to ignore. But then, she’d feel her face flush, heat creeping up her neck, and her hands would ball into fists in her lap. Her jaw would clench, and that sharp glare would settle in her eyes. She would sit there, watching, fighting the urge to do anything about it, because what could she do?

It wasn’t like Jeonghan was doing anything wrong.

He was just being Jeonghan.

But every time someone flirted with him— especially when it was right in front of her— that shadow flared, dark and consuming.

And it only got worse once they were officially together.

Once Jeonghan became hers in the way that mattered, the possessiveness grew more potent, more intense.

Luna had always prided herself on being rational, on keeping her emotions in check. But when it came to Jeonghan, there were moments when that possessiveness felt like it might consume her whole.

It wasn’t the members. She was perfectly fine with them. They were family. She trusted them with everything, including Jeonghan. And the fans— she never felt threatened by their love for him. They were a part of their lives, an integral part, and she shared in their adoration of him.

But when it came to other people— people who didn’t know him like she did, people who only saw him as that beautiful, charming idol— Luna could feel that shadow rise up in her like a wave, ready to crash down and smother everything in its path.

The new staff who whispered about him, the random stylist with a too-long gaze, the brief interactions with people who clearly had crushes on him— it all drove her insane.

And Jeonghan… Jeonghan, being the person he was, didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he did notice, and he simply didn’t care. He’d smile that lazy, mischievous smile, charm them without even meaning to, and Luna would sit there, her blood simmering beneath the surface.

Luna hated it.

She hated the way it made her feel, the way her emotions spiraled out of control when it came to him.

Because it wasn’t jealousy. No, it was never jealousy. Jealousy was wanting something that wasn’t yours. Luna didn’t want what she didn’t have.

She just didn’t want anyone else to have what was already hers.

When other people gawked at Jeonghan, whispered about him, had crushes on him, and flirted with him—especially when she was right there— Luna felt like she could lose it.

The shadow inside her, that friend she’d grown so familiar with, would flare to life, ready to guard what was hers, to protect it fiercely from anyone who dared come too close.

She wasn’t jealous. She was possessive. And there was a difference.

Jeonghan was hers, and no one else’s.

Luna hated thinking this way.

She despised the possessiveness that clawed at her insides, wrapping around her chest like a vice, making it hard to breathe.

It wasn’t who she wanted to be.

She didn’t want to be the kind of person who felt like she had to hold onto someone so tightly as if they might slip away if she let go for even a second.

People weren’t possessions, least of all Jeonghan. She knew that. She reminded herself of it constantly. He’s not an object. He’s not your property.

But despite her best efforts, that gnawing feeling never truly left.

Every time someone got too close to Jeonghan, every time someone lingered in conversation with him a little too long, every time eyes wandered over his beautiful face and easy smile, Luna felt it stir again. And God, she hated it. She hated that it made her feel this way, irrational and out of control.

And yet, no matter how hard Luna tried to mask it, to suppress it, she could tell— Jeonghan could tell.

Jeonghan always knew.

He could read her like a book, his favorite book, in fact.

Luna could see it in the way his eyes would find hers when she was glaring at whoever had decided to flirt with him.

He never looked surprised or confused. No, Jeonghan knew exactly what she was feeling, and even more, he enjoyed it.

That was the thing about Jeonghan.

He was a mischievous tease to the core, always playing around with people, always stirring up trouble just to see what would happen. He enjoyed the chase, the thrill, the challenge.

And Luna? She was his favorite challenge.

Of course, Jeonghan wasn’t doing it on purpose— not in the way that would hurt her.

He wasn’t cruel— he loves her too much.

He would never actually flirt with someone else to provoke her or make her feel insecure. He wouldn’t do that to her, and Luna knew that deep down. But there was something about the way he reveled in her possessiveness, in the way she reacted to it, that made her blood boil even more.

Whenever that familiar tension rose between them, whenever she was on the verge of snapping, Jeonghan would always, without fail, baby her. He’d get more clingy, more affectionate, more of a tease as if he was purposefully testing her limits. His voice would drop into that soft, teasing tone, laced with a kind of condescending flirtation that only he could pull off.

He’d speak in that sing-song voice he reserved just for her, leaning in close with a playful grin, the words dripping with an infuriating sweetness that made her want to both kiss him and strangle him at the same time.

“Aww, is someone getting a little upset, hm? You know there’s no need for that, pretty girl,” he’d coo, the endearment rolling off his tongue like honey.

Or worse: “What’s the matter? You know you don’t have to worry, baby. No one else could ever take me from you,” he’d say, leaning in even closer, his breath warm against her ear, his tone dipping lower. “Only you, baby.”

And then there was the one that always pushed her the hardest, the one that made her breath catch in her throat every time: “You look so cute when you’re mad, you know that? Like a little kitten, all puffed up. What are you going to do about it, hmm? Just glare at me all day?”

Luna’s glare was sharp, piercing through the teasing words that dripped from Jeonghan’s mouth. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, the familiar flush of frustration mingled with that damned possessiveness.

His words always had a way of igniting something deep within her, something she despised but couldn’t fully control.

Jeonghan, of course, noticed. He always did.

He leaned down, his lips still curled into that maddeningly soft smile, one hand reaching out to cup the back of her neck. His fingers were warm, and the touch, though gentle, sent a shiver down her spine. He held her there, not tightly, but just enough to make her feel trapped in that moment, in his presence.

Jeonghan nudged his nose against hers, brushing their foreheads together as he tilted his head. His voice dropped to that low, teasing tone that he knew got under her skin. “My moon,” he murmured, his breath fanning across her lips, “you know I’d never get taken from you, right?”

His thumb stroked lightly at the base of her neck, his grip softening as if lulling her into a sense of security. “They’d have to drag me away kicking and screaming.” His lips were so close now, almost brushing against hers, his gaze locking onto her eyes, studying the irritation simmering in them, the way her lips twitched like she was fighting back a snarl.

But there was that underlying tone again, that subtle challenge woven into his words, as though he was daring her to act, daring her to stop pretending she could ignore it. He leaned in just a fraction more, his lips ghosting against hers without quite closing the distance.

“No one can compare to you, baby,” His voice lowered even more, a whisper now, intimate, taunting. “You should show them that, hmm?”

The words hung in the air between them, a gauntlet thrown at her feet. His fingers tightened ever so slightly on her neck, not forceful, but just enough to remind her of his presence, of the fact that he was right there, within reach, hers to hold onto if she wanted.

His eyes gleamed with that familiar mischievous spark, the one that always set her on edge. “What’s it going to be, Nana-ya? Are you just going to keep glaring at me?” His voice softened, but the challenge lingered. “Or are you going to show them?”

The way he said it, like a coo, like a teasing dare, made her blood simmer even more. He was pushing her, testing her limits again, and he knew it. He was always so sure of himself, so confident that no matter how hard she tried to keep her composure, he could make her unravel.

There was always that underlying tone in his voice, that unspoken dare woven into his words like he was tempting her— pushing her to do something about it.

No, scratch that… Jeonghan wanted her to do something about it.

He was daring her to let that possessiveness out, to stop holding back, to give in to the anger simmering beneath the surface.

And Luna hated how much she wanted to. She hated that part of her wanted to rise to his challenge, to make it clear to everyone that Jeonghan was hers and hers alone.

But she never did.

Instead, she would just glare at him, her eyes narrowing into sharp slits, her fists tightening at her sides as she fought the urge to snap. She’d take a deep breath, then another, and force herself to look away, to move on, to push the emotions back down where they belonged. She refused to give in to it, no matter how much Jeonghan taunted her, no matter how much his teasing made her want to lose control.

She never let it take over.

Jeonghan knew this about her, though. He could see through her every time, peeling back the layers of her composure with a single glance. She thought she was doing a good job of keeping it together, of staying calm, but Jeonghan could always tell what was really going on beneath the surface. He knew exactly what she was feeling, and he knew, too, that she wasn’t going to act on it.

Not yet, at least.

And that amused him.

Unbeknownst to Luna, Jeonghan enjoyed the game just as much as she feared it.

He found her possessiveness endearing, almost charming in a way, because it was so unlike her usual composed self. It was a side of her that only he got to see, a raw vulnerability that she kept hidden from the rest of the world.

And Jeonghan, with his sly smile and ever-calculating mind, wanted her to act on it.

He wanted to see what would happen if she let go if she stopped holding back and let that fiery possessiveness take over. He wasn’t afraid of it; in fact, he reveled in it. He knew how much it frustrated her, how hard she worked to keep it in check, and it thrilled him to push her just enough to see her struggle with it.

Because Jeonghan always got what he wanted in the end.

Always.

And what he wanted was for Luna to stop fighting it.

Jeonghan wanted her to let go, to show him how much she cared, how much she hated seeing other people fawn over him, how much she wanted to claim him in front of everyone.

He knew she could do it, and he was going to get her there.

He always did.

Then, Jeonghan finally got his way.

It finally happened in Paris, of all places.

Jeonghan always knew how to push her buttons, but Luna had never truly snapped before. She always found a way to hold it together, to remind herself that he was his own person, that she couldn’t— shouldn’t— be so possessive.

But Paris, with its old-world charm, its elegant streets and glittering lights, became the stage where everything came undone.

They had flown out for Fashion Week 2023, the pinnacle of their already busy schedules. Jeonghan, being the brand ambassador for Yves Saint Laurent, was the centerpiece of their show, while Luna, as Miu Miu’s ambassador, would be attending their event.

Their schedules aligned but diverged, each pulled into their separate orbits by the fashion world’s demands.

Everything had been normal up until that point.

Well, as normal as it could be for two idols navigating the storm of fame, fashion, and flashing cameras.

The flight to Paris had been peaceful. The two of them sat side by side, hidden behind the anonymity of first-class curtains, though they didn’t really talk much— both too absorbed in resting in preparation for their individual roles in the whirlwind that was Fashion Week. There was an unspoken understanding between them, a sense of routine, of being used to this kind of life.

When they landed, they were whisked away to separate fittings— Jeonghan heading toward the sleek, moody atmosphere of YSL’s atelier, while Luna was surrounded by the playful and elegant charm of Miu Miu.

They had exchanged texts throughout the day— small updates about their schedules, complaints about too-tight shoes, or a particularly exhausting interview, but they hadn’t seen each other much. The demands of Fashion Week were relentless, pulling them in different directions.

The day of Jeonghan’s YSL show came first. Luna didn’t attend— she was in the middle of her own preparations for Miu Miu—but she saw the photos. Jeonghan looked breathtaking, dressed in sleek black, with sharp lines and an effortless cool that sent waves through the fashion world.

The press and fans fawned over him and so did Luna.

Then came her own day— Miu Miu’s show. It was an entirely different vibe from YSL, more playful and eclectic, but Luna shone just as brightly. She reveled in the attention for a moment, feeling the pride that came with representing such a prestigious brand. But the busyness of it all kept them from each other again, just fleeting texts exchanged between interviews and fittings, always running parallel but never quite crossing paths.

Once their obligations were done, they finally had a few days off together. That was when they started playing tourist, doing all the things they rarely got to enjoy because of their packed schedules. Mornings were filled with museum visits— Louvre, Musée d’Orsay, and even the quirky and vibrant Centre Pompidou. They took photos for each other, snapping candid shots for their fans to see later, knowing these moments would end up on SEVENTEEN’s YouTube channel as part of their SEVENTEEN Records series.

Luna still remembered the way Jeonghan would lean into her as they walked through the narrow Parisian streets, his breath tickling her ear as he made quiet jokes, teasing her about how her coat looked too big for her— “You’re being swallowed whole, baby.” She had shoved him lightly, laughing at his antics, but the warmth between them was undeniable.

They were just two people, away from the madness of their lives for a while, enjoying the simple pleasure of being together.

Afternoons were spent shopping in the chic boutiques of Le Marais, where they wandered hand in hand, occasionally separating to browse different sections, only to reconvene with secret smiles and a few more bags to carry.

They tried on clothes, Luna teasing Jeonghan when he lingered too long in front of the mirror, and he returned the favor by commenting on how she had too many shoes already— though that didn’t stop him from buying her another pair.

It had been peaceful— normal, even— and for a moment, Luna thought that maybe she’d outgrown that old possessiveness. That shadow of possessiveness that once lingered at the edge of her thoughts felt distant. It seemed like an awkward phase she had passed, something she could leave behind in her teenage years.

But she should have known better.

Luna had told herself that possessiveness was something she could overcome, that it was just a phase from when their relationship was new and uncertain.

But now, she realized how wrong she had been.

That shadow had never disappeared— it had simply been lying in wait, simmering under the surface, lingering in the quiet moments between them, waiting for just the right moment to break free.

And Jeonghan knew it, he had always known it. He wanted her to let it out, to snap, to show just how much she wanted to claim him, no matter who was watching.

And, of course, it would all happen here, in Paris— the city of romance, the city that demanded passion in all things.

Their dinner was planned at an upscale restaurant tucked away from the bustling streets. They had reserved a private room to avoid the scrutiny of prying eyes, to keep the illusion of their relationship hidden for just a bit longer.

It was rare for them to have such an intimate setting in public, without the watchful presence of managers or bodyguards. Just the two of them, free to be themselves, free to let their guards down.

As they stepped inside, heads turned immediately.

There was no fanfare, no cameras flashing or crowds gathering around, but Luna and Jeonghan commanded attention just by their presence.

Tall and slender, both of them had an air of sophistication mixed with the slightest edge of danger, as if they didn’t quite belong in the same world as everyone else.

Luna’s long, wavy, blonde hair fell loosely behind her, framing her sharp features, and she was dressed entirely in black. A fitted black top tucked neatly into a black mini-skirt, accentuated with a thick black belt, thigh-high black boots that hugged her legs perfectly, and a long black leather coat that gave her an almost ethereal, otherworldly aura. She looked like she had stepped out of a noir film, every detail perfectly curated.

Beside her, Jeonghan was equally striking, his shoulder-length black hair framing his face in soft waves. He wore a black top that clung to his lean frame, black pants that accentuated his long legs, and polished black boots that added an extra touch of elegance. His long, dark coat fell in gentle folds around him, moving with a grace that was almost hypnotic.

As they walked in, the soft murmur of conversation in the restaurant quieted. Eyes followed them, some openly staring, others trying to be more discreet but failing to hide their curiosity.

A few older patrons, French locals enjoying a quiet meal, looked at them with a kind of bewildered fascination, as if trying to place them in some distant memory. They didn’t know exactly who they were, but there was something unmistakably famous about the two of them.

Younger diners, however, recognized them immediately. A few phones came out, subtle but visible, snapping photos and recording videos, capturing this rare glimpse of Luna and Jeonghan together.

But they weren’t worried.

Their fans were used to seeing them together; they knew how close they were, how often they appeared in public side by side, laughing and touching, their bond evident to anyone who watched.

Some fans were convinced they were dating, while others chalked it up to an unbreakable friendship.

The truth, of course, was the former— a truth that Jeonghan and Luna kept carefully guarded, shared only with their family and the members of SEVENTEEN. They knew all too well how the media could twist things, and they preferred to keep their relationship a cherished secret, just for them.

Luna stepped up to the maître d’, her expression neutral, almost cold at first, as she spoke softly. “Bonsoir,” she greeted, her voice calm and polite, her French accent carefully practiced. “We have a reservation under Bae Jiyeon.”

The maître d’ nodded, checking his ledger, clearly aware of the weight these two held, even without their entourage. As he glanced up, Luna allowed a small smile to break through her composed facade, a warmth that contrasted sharply with her intense gaze, and Jeonghan’s hand slipped to her back, a gentle but firm touch as he leaned in, listening.

“Ah, yes, Mademoiselle Bae,” the maître d’ replied, his tone respectful. “Right this way, please.”

Jeonghan gave the man a brief smile, a subtle flash of charm that was both polite and distant, a glimpse of the man he was when the cameras were on him.

The staff and patrons continued to watch as they were led deeper into the restaurant, a quiet murmur of whispers trailing behind them. There was a low hum of intrigue from the older patrons, and the younger ones, who recognized them, clutched their phones tightly, capturing every second.

The maître d’ guided them down a softly lit hallway to a secluded area, hidden behind dark, ornate doors. He opened one with a flourish, gesturing for them to enter. “Your private dining room, just as you requested. I hope you both enjoy your evening.”

Luna offered him a soft nod. “Merci.”

With a final nod from Jeonghan, the maître d’ closed the door behind them, leaving them alone in the dimly lit room. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over the space, reflecting off the fine crystal glasses and polished silverware.

Luna settled into the plush velvet of the round booth, tucking her legs gracefully beneath the table as she took in the quiet ambiance around them. The dim lighting softened every edge, casting a warm, intimate glow over the room.

Jeonghan slid in beside her, his body close enough that she could feel his warmth without even touching. He stretched one arm along the back of the seat behind her, his hand resting on the cushion just inches from her shoulder, his fingers occasionally brushing the fabric of her coat as he settled in. It felt effortless, as if they belonged there, hidden away in their private world.

Luna picked up the leather-bound menu, her fingers running over the embossed gold lettering on the front before she opened it, eyes scanning the options. She was quickly absorbed in the list, flipping through each page with a quiet focus.

Jeonghan, however, didn’t even glance at his own menu. Instead, he leaned in, reading over her shoulder, his chin nearly brushing her temple as he followed her gaze.

“Not even going to look at your own?” she murmured, a playful hint in her voice as she kept her eyes on the page.

Jeonghan tilted his head, the hint of a smile curving his lips. “Why should I? I trust you to pick something good for me,” he replied smoothly, his voice low and lazy, his hand slipping a little lower on the cushion behind her. His thumb brushed against the back of her shoulder, a gentle, absentminded gesture as he spoke.

Luna gave a soft chuckle, shaking her head as she scanned the menu. “You say that now, but if I end up picking something you don’t like, you’ll be the first to complain.”

He leaned a little closer, his breath warm against her cheek. “Hmm, I don’t think I’ll have any complaints if it’s coming from you,” he teased, the words slipping out like silk.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at her lips as she focused back on the menu. “Alright, well… let’s see. For appetizers, there’s escargot, but I know that’s probably not something you’d enjoy.” She paused, glancing up at him with a knowing look.

Jeonghan made a face, feigning horror. “Snails? Really? Are you trying to test my love for you? I mean… I’d try for you.” He let out a soft laugh, his fingers brushing lightly against her hip where his hand rested.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I was just making sure,” Luna replied, a grin slipping through. “Alright, no snails for you, then. How about a charcuterie board? Some cheeses, cured meats… I know you like those.”

Jeonghan nodded, his eyes fixed on her face rather than the menu. “Sounds perfect. See? You know me so well.”

Luna flipped to the next page, detailing the entrees. Jeonghan’s hand moved subtly along the back of her seat, his fingertips tracing small circles against her coat’s fabric, eventually resting on her hip with a gentle, almost possessive hold. It was casual, natural, the way his touch lingered on her, as if he had every right to her space and she welcomed it without question.

She continued reading aloud, her tone calm and thoughtful. “For the main course, they have a classic coq au vin, which is chicken braised with red wine, mushrooms, and garlic. Or there’s a filet mignon with a red wine reduction sauce. I think you’d like that.”

Jeonghan’s gaze softened, his thumb rubbing slow, soothing circles against her hip. “Mmm… I think you’re right. The filet sounds good,” he murmured, his voice almost a purr as he let her continue describing the dishes.

Luna flipped another page, her own shoulder relaxing under his gentle hold. “They also have bouillabaisse, which is a seafood stew. But I’m guessing you’re more in the mood for the filet tonight?” she asked, glancing up at him with a knowing smile.

Jeonghan nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting into a lazy grin. “You always know what I want. Makes it easy for me,” he said, his fingers pressing just a little more firmly against her hip, a subtle reminder of his presence. “I’d be lost without you here to guide me through all this.”

She raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, you’d manage just fine. But I’m happy to help.”

His hand stayed on her hip, his touch steady and familiar, as he looked down at her with an expression that was both playful and intent. “And I’m happy to let you,” he murmured, his eyes holding hers for a beat longer, a hint of challenge and warmth flickering in his gaze.

They exchanged an easy smile, the conversation flowing naturally, unhurried, as if this was exactly where they were supposed to be.

The small gestures between them— the gentle brush of his fingers, the quiet way she explained each dish— were all woven with the kind of comfort and intimacy that only came with time and understanding.

Luna didn’t mind his hand on her hip, didn’t mind his arm stretched behind her as if he owned that space around her. It felt right, his touch a steady reminder that he was hers and she was his, even here, in this quiet little corner of Paris where no one else needed to know the truth.

“So, filet mignon for you, then,” she said finally, closing the menu with a satisfied nod.

Jeonghan’s smile deepened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Whatever you say, my pretty moon.” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but filled with a warmth that made her heart skip.

As Luna settled back, the two of them sat in their shared silence, content, feeling the weight of their secret world cocooned within these four walls, away from prying eyes. For now, they had each other, the food yet to come, and the unspoken understanding between them— one that didn’t need words, just the simple, easy closeness they shared in these stolen moments.

The quiet murmur of the restaurant was briefly interrupted as the waitress finally entered their secluded corner, her gaze drifting from the notepad in her hand to the couple seated in the booth.

Luna looked up, ready to greet her with a soft, polite smile, but her expression shifted the moment she caught sight of the waitress’s lingering stare— one that didn’t even attempt subtlety as her eyes moved up and down Jeonghan, taking in every detail as though committing him to memory.

Luna’s smile faltered, her eyes narrowing slightly as she watched the way the waitress’s gaze lingered on him.

She couldn’t blame her.

Jeonghan was striking, painfully so. His hair fell in loose, casual waves framing his face, his shirt collar open just enough to suggest sophistication and ease. His presence had a way of turning heads, and Luna was more than used to it by now— people stopped and stared at him every day. They did the same for her too, and in most cases, she brushed it off, almost amused by it.

But there was something different in the way the waitress was looking at him, something just a bit too bold, too unprofessional.

Jeonghan leaned back in his seat, a small, knowing smile on his face as he eyed Luna, his expression amused as if he could read every thought in her mind.

The cocky bastard was egging her on.

Luna shook her head, trying to dispel the initial irritation that had crept in, telling herself it was nothing. She didn’t need to let her imagination get the better of her.

It was probably nothing, just the standard reaction most people had to seeing someone as breathtaking as him.

She was better than this, Luna reminded herself. She wasn’t the type to jump to conclusions or judge someone so quickly. Her mother had taught her better than that.

She was a good person, a good girl, Luna repeated to herself.

Taking a breath, she straightened her shoulders and looked up at the waitress, offering her a renewed, polite smile. “Hi, we’re ready to order,” she said, her tone calm and measured.

The waitress finally pulled her eyes away from Jeonghan, glancing at Luna, but there was a flicker of something sharp, a hint of annoyance as she met her gaze.

It was subtle, almost too quick to catch, but Luna didn’t miss the way the waitress’s eyes hardened, the friendly mask slipping just enough to reveal something beneath it. Luna’s brows raised slightly in surprise, but she held her tongue, reminding herself to give the benefit of the doubt.

Maybe the waitress was just tired, or maybe she was having a bad day.

Luna forced herself to ignore it, smiling gently as she started to place their order.

“We’ll start with the charcuterie board,” she began, her tone steady as she listed the items they had discussed. “And for the main course, he’ll have the filet mignon, medium rare, with the red wine reduction sauce. And I’ll have the coq au vin.”

The waitress scribbled down the order without much acknowledgment, her expression indifferent as she glanced up, her attention sliding right back to Jeonghan with a warm, overly bright smile. Ignoring Luna entirely, she leaned in just a fraction, her eyes locking onto him with an intensity that made Luna’s jaw tighten.

“And what kind of wine would you like to have with your meal?” the waitress asked, her voice suddenly softer, more intimate. Her attention was so fixed on Jeonghan that it was as if Luna didn’t even exist.

Jeonghan, however, barely looked at her, giving a polite nod as he glanced at Luna, his silent way of deferring the choice to her.

“We’ll have the Bordeaux,” Luna said smoothly, her tone polite but firm, making it clear she was still there, still a part of the conversation. She offered a slight smile, determined to maintain her composure.

The waitress shot her a fleeting look, one that barely hid her disdain, before turning her attention back to Jeonghan. “And do you visit Paris often?” she asked him, her tone a little too friendly, a little too familiar.

Jeonghan blinked, clearly taken aback by the question, and gave her a polite but hesitant nod. “Sometimes… for work,” he replied in his choppy English, clearly trying his best.

Luna felt a mix of annoyance and reluctant amusement tug at her as she watched Jeonghan struggle to answer. His attempts at English were always adorable, endearing in a way that only he could pull off, and it was something she had fallen for countless times.

But in this moment, watching the waitress’s smile widen with newfound interest, she felt a pang of irritation. It was as though every word out of his mouth only drew the waitress in deeper, her gaze growing more flirtatious, more determined.

The waitress leaned closer, a coy smile playing on her lips as she asked, “Are you a model? You look like you could be one.” Her voice held a breathy quality now, her eyes never leaving him.

Luna clenched her jaw, willing herself to keep her composure. She told herself to let it go, that the waitress probably didn’t know who they were, and maybe that was a blessing in disguise. But that didn’t make it any less irritating.

Jeonghan, however, remained unfazed, his face cool and relaxed as he replied, “Sometimes… we model.” His English was halting, but his tone was confident, and he let his hand drift to Luna’s thigh, his fingers resting there as he gave her a small, almost mischievous smile.

He was referring to both of them, making it clear that Luna was just as much a part of that world as he was.

The waitress’s expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of irritation crossing her face before she quickly recovered. “Have I seen you before?” she asked, her tone implying something more, her eyes flicking to Luna with a hint of challenge, as if daring her to respond.

Luna’s irritation spiked, but she forced herself to remain calm. Instead, she simply pulled out her phone, her fingers moving swiftly across the screen as she began typing a message to Seungkwan, her fingers practically flying as she poured out her frustration. She knew Seungkwan would appreciate the gossip, and it was the only thing keeping her from doing something she might regret— like flipping the table.

Meanwhile, Jeonghan turned back to the waitress, his face a picture of casual indifference as he replied in his choppy English, “Probably with her… my girlfriend.” His tone was calm, almost bored, as he gestured to Luna with a slight nod, his hand still resting on her thigh.

Luna’s fingers froze mid-text, her eyes snapping up to side-eye Jeonghan.

A small part of her wanted to gush over how adorable his broken English was, how proud she was of him for managing to get the words out so smoothly. But her possessiveness was clouding everything else, making her focus on how risky it was for him to say that out loud, especially when they were supposed to keep their relationship hidden from the public eye.

Jeonghan, however, seemed completely unbothered, his lips curling into a slight smirk as he met her gaze, his expression filled with a knowing, almost smug amusement. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he clearly didn’t care about the risk.

It was as if he was challenging her, daring her to react and do the same, all while maintaining that calm, cool demeanor.

They were so focused on each other, locked in a silent exchange, that neither of them noticed when the waitress huffed quietly and left the room, her frustration evident in her hurried steps as she disappeared back into the restaurant.

Luna let out a slow breath, feeling her irritation slowly melt away as she glanced down at Jeonghan’s hand still resting possessively on her thigh. Despite everything, a small smile tugged at her lips as she looked back at him, shaking her head in quiet exasperation.

“You know, you didn’t have to say it like that,” she murmured, her voice soft yet teasing, her annoyance already forgotten.

Jeonghan simply shrugged, his smirk deepening as he met her gaze. “She needed to know,” he replied nonchalantly, his voice low and casual, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Luna crossed her arms, frustration evident as she glared up at Jeonghan. “What if she tells, Han?” she hissed under her breath, her voice a blend of worry and annoyance. “We’re gonna get in troub—”

But Jeonghan didn’t let her finish.

Before she could get another word out, he reached out, his slender fingers tilting her chin up with the gentlest touch, forcing her to look directly into his eyes. His gaze was intense, smoldering with a fire that seemed to flicker just for her. Her breath caught, heart stammering in her chest as the corners of his mouth curled into a smirk, equal parts mischievous and reassuring.

The kiss was fervent, searing, filled with a raw passion that took her by surprise.

Jeonghan's lips moved over hers with purpose, a demanding rhythm that left her struggling to keep up. He pressed closer, his hand sliding behind her head, fingers threading through her hair as he held her firmly in place. His other hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing along her cheekbone in a surprisingly tender contrast to the urgency of his mouth on hers.

Luna's heart raced, pounding against her chest as she surrendered to the moment, her initial shock melting into a haze of sensation. She tried to match his intensity, but Jeonghan's fervor was relentless, his lips guiding hers in a way that left no room for hesitation. His mouth was warm and soft, but his kiss was anything but gentle-each movement a silent declaration, as if he was staking his claim, proving a point without a single word.

He angled his head slightly, deepening the kiss, his lips parting to invite her in, his tongue brushing teasingly against hers, coaxing her to respond. The warmth of his breath mingled with hers, filling the small space between them with a dizzying sense of intimacy. Every touch, every brush of his lips, felt deliberate, designed to make her melt under his touch.

Luna's hands moved instinctively, grasping at his shoulders to steady herself as his kiss grew more insistent, more consuming.

Her fingers tightened against the fabric of his shirt, holding on as he continued to kiss her with a fervor that bordered on overwhelming. She could feel the strength in his hold, the way his hands held her close, anchoring her to him as though he couldn't bear to let her go.

Her mind spun, her senses flooded with him-the scent of his cologne, the softness of his hair brushing against her forehead, the heat radiating from his body as he pressed closer. The world around them faded, leaving only the taste of him on her lips, the warmth of his skin under her fingertips.

The world around them faded away, leaving just the two of them in this intimate bubble, a silent declaration of their connection.

Just when she thought she'd drown in the intensity of it all, Jeonghan's pace slowed, his lips lingering against hers in a series of softer, slower kisses, as if savoring the moment. His hand moved from her face to her jaw, thumb gently tracing the curve of her cheek, while his fingers splayed possessively along the back of her neck, keeping her close. His lips parted from hers just enough for them to share a breath, his forehead resting against hers as his eyes remained closed, as though he were still savoring the taste of her.

Slowly, he pulled back, his gaze meeting hers with a satisfied, almost smug gleam, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he observed her dazed expression. He didn’t let go of her face, his hands lingering, fingers tracing gentle circles along her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin in a way that sent shivers down her spine.

“People will believe what they want to believe,” he murmured softly, his voice low and soothing, each word wrapping around her like a warm blanket. “Our fans… they already think we’re together, and even if some don’t, it doesn’t change what’s real between us.”

His words were so matter-of-fact, his tone so calm, it eased something within her. His thumb continued to stroke her cheek, his gaze unwavering, steady and reassuring. “Besides,” he added with a little smile, “that waitress? She has no proof. She clearly doesn’t know who we are, and even if she did, it wouldn’t matter.” He leaned back slightly, tilting his head to study her, as if gauging her reaction. “No one can touch us. Not here. Not like this.”

Luna felt her heart rate begin to slow, her body relaxing under the weight of his calm certainty. Her lips parted slightly as she tried to form a response, but Jeonghan was already there, cradling her face as though she were something delicate, precious. His fingers traced along her jaw, then down to her hands, where he lifted her fingers to his lips, pressing gentle kisses to each one. His lips were soft, feather-light as he moved from one finger to the next, then finally to the center of her palm, where he lingered, eyes never leaving hers.

“You’re too good for this world, my angel,” he murmured, voice filled with a gentle affection that left her chest feeling tight.

His words were soft, coaxing her like one would soothe a child, and somehow, despite her normally assertive, strong-willed self, she felt herself softening under his touch, the tension slipping from her shoulders as she let herself be pulled into the warmth of his adoration.

Only Jeonghan could make her feel like this— vulnerable, small, and cherished, all at once.

She pouted, her lips curving downward as she finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper. “But… what if she spits in my food?”

Jeonghan chuckled, a warm, deep sound that reverberated through her, and for a brief moment, his gaze softened even further, filled with a fondness that seemed to overflow. “Then we’ll switch dishes,” he replied, his tone halfway between serious and playful. “Or,” he continued with a slight smirk, his fingers still caressing her hand, “I’ll get her fired if you want.”

She gasped, swatting at his chest lightly. “Hannie!” she scolded, though her voice held no real anger, just the remnants of her lingering irritation mixed with a playful reprimand. “That’s mean!”

His smirk softened, morphing into a gentle smile as he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, a feather-light touch that was far less urgent than before, filled with a quiet reverence instead. “You’re an angel,” he murmured against her lips, his voice a hushed whisper as he pulled back just enough to look at her. “My pretty angel. Such a good girl.”

His words sent a rush of warmth through her, leaving her speechless, her face heating up at his doting tone. There was something about the way he was looking at her, the softness in his eyes, that made her want to melt, to let go of every worry and just stay here with him, lost in this moment.

As they settled back into their seats, Luna felt an almost tangible shift in the air between them. The kiss had left her dazed, a gentle flush still coloring her cheeks, and Jeonghan’s casual return to their conversation only added to the surreal nature of the moment. She found herself leaning into him, their shoulders brushing, her hand casually resting on his thigh beneath the table.

They spoke in hushed tones, laughter and soft smiles passing between them, as though they were in their own world where time moved a little slower, and the rest of the restaurant faded into the background.

Every once in a while, Jeonghan would reach out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary, making her pulse quicken all over again. She responded by nudging him with her shoulder, pretending to be annoyed, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

When their food finally arrived, it was the same waitress who reappeared, balancing their plates and the wine bottle with a practiced ease. Luna glanced up to thank her, but Jeonghan’s gaze was already fixed on the waitress, his expression carefully unreadable as he watched her approach. As she moved to set the dish in front of Luna, Jeonghan’s voice cut in smoothly, yet with a hint of something sharper beneath his polite tone.

“Here.” He pointed to the space in front of him, gesturing for the waitress to place Luna’s dish there instead.

The waitress hesitated, a slight flicker of confusion crossing her face as she looked between the two of them. But she quickly masked it, her expression returning to the same blank professionalism she’d shown throughout the evening. She set the dish down in front of Jeonghan without a word, her gaze momentarily meeting his.

Jeonghan held her stare, searching for any sign of guilt or discomfort, any indication that she might have tampered with their order out of petty jealousy. But the waitress remained stoic, her demeanor calm and unbothered, which he noted with a slight nod of approval.

“Thank you,” Luna said politely, offering a small smile as the waitress set down her own dish and poured the wine. Jeonghan echoed her thanks with a subtle dip of his head, his attention already shifting back to Luna as the waitress left them in peace.

Once the waitress was out of earshot, Jeonghan reached across the table, nudging Luna’s plate toward her with a grin. “Well, I didn’t see any poison in it,” he murmured, his voice teasing, though the protective glint in his eye made her heart skip a beat. She couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a bit ridiculous for her earlier concerns, yet touched by how quickly he’d picked up on her worries and how naturally he’d moved to reassure her.

They settled into their meal, casually swapping bites from each other’s plates. Jeonghan’s utensils found their way to her dish as often as her own did, a shared rhythm developing between them as they tasted each other’s choices. He’d lift a piece of food to her lips, his gaze warm and attentive, waiting for her reaction with a small smile. She’d make a face if it was something she didn’t particularly like, and he’d chuckle, offering her his glass of wine to wash it down.

“Here, try this one,” Luna said, holding out a forkful of her dish to him. Jeonghan leaned forward, his eyes never leaving hers as he accepted the bite, savoring it with a small, appreciative nod. His hand found its way to hers on the table, his thumb idly tracing circles on her skin, grounding her in the intimacy of the moment.

The wine bottle sat between them, and they poured for each other in turns, watching the liquid swirl in their glasses before clinking them together softly. Jeonghan raised his glass, a playful glint in his eye. “To dealing with overly friendly waitstaff and stealing each other’s food,” he toasted, his smirk making her laugh.

“To stealing each other’s food,” she echoed, touching her glass to his, feeling the warmth of the wine spread through her with each sip.

Their conversation flowed effortlessly as they enjoyed their meal, slipping into easy banter and shared glances, as though they’d done this a thousand times before. Each bite, each sip of wine, felt like a part of the dance between them—unhurried, comfortable, intimate. It was as if the restaurant around them had faded away, leaving only the two of them and the soft glow of candlelight illuminating their little corner.

By the time they’d finished eating, their plates nearly empty, they sat back in their seats, both satisfied and content. Jeonghan reached over, his fingers brushing a stray crumb from the corner of her mouth, his touch lingering as his eyes softened.

Luna’s heart fluttered, a smile playing on her lips as she looked up at him, her fingers lacing with his beneath the table. She felt a profound sense of gratitude and joy, as though every part of this night was a precious memory they were crafting together, one that would stay with her long after they’d left this place.

And as they sat there, basking in the quiet intimacy that had settled over them, Luna couldn’t shake the feeling that moments like this— moments that were simple, genuine, and filled with laughter and warmth— were what made everything worth it.

As dinner came to an end, Jeonghan signaled for the check, slipping his card to a new waiter without a second thought. They exchanged quiet smiles as they waited, still reveling in the comfortable intimacy that had blossomed over the evening. When the waiter returned, Jeonghan handled the payment swiftly, and with one last glance around the cozy, dimly-lit restaurant, they made their way out into the crisp night air.

The cab ride back to the hotel was quiet, but in a way that felt perfectly right. Luna rested her head on Jeonghan’s shoulder, her hand intertwined with his in her lap, their fingers loosely laced together. They didn’t need words; the warmth of his hand in hers and the faint thrum of the car engine beneath them were all they needed in that moment. It was as though the rest of the world had faded, leaving only the two of them and the soft hum of the city around them.

Once they reached their hotel, they navigated their way through the lobby, exchanging tired smiles as they waited for the elevator. By the time they reached their room, a gentle, lazy fatigue had settled over them, the kind that made them crave the cozy confines of their space together.

As soon as they were inside, Luna kicked off her shoes, the satisfying clack of her heels hitting the floor filling the room. She shrugged off her coat, letting it fall to the floor in an unceremonious heap, before draping herself across the sofa with a sigh of relief. She stretched out, curling her legs up beneath her as she settled back, pulling out her phone and beginning to scroll lazily.

Jeonghan, meanwhile, slipped out of his own coat, his gaze drifting over to her as he hung it up. His eyes raked over her relaxed form, taking in the way her hair tumbled over her shoulders, her casual posture, the slight pout on her lips as she focused on her phone. He smiled, an affectionate warmth spreading through him as he crossed the room toward her.

Without a word, he settled beside her on the sofa, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her gently into his side. Instinctively, Luna leaned into him, snuggling up without looking away from her phone, her head coming to rest on his chest as she continued scrolling. Jeonghan watched her from above, a soft smile playing at his lips as he took in the way she fit perfectly against him.

They sat in comfortable silence, a quiet intimacy enveloping them. Some couples might have found this unproductive, or even a little boring, but for them, this was everything. This was where they were most at home, in the quiet spaces between words, in the shared stillness that felt like a world of its own. Both of them, introverted and often easily drained, found a sense of peace in simply being together like this, with no need for conversation or grand gestures.

Luna shifted slightly, curling up closer against him, her body fitting perfectly into the crook of his side. Jeonghan held her a bit tighter, his hand slipping up to run through her hair, his fingers combing gently through the soft, blonde strands. He removed a stray strand from her face, tucking it behind her ear with a tenderness that was second nature by now.

Then, suddenly, Luna gasped, her body jolting slightly as she sat up, startling Jeonghan. His face remained composed, though his eyes widened a touch as he looked at her in surprise.

“What?” he asked, eyebrows raising as he watched her.

“We forgot to eat dessert,” Luna pouted, her expression serious as though this was a matter of utmost importance.

Jeonghan blinked, and then his concerned look melted into one of pure, unfiltered fondness. His lips curved into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling as he watched her, a quiet chuckle slipping out.

“Aigo…” he cooed, slipping into his sing-song, babying tone. “What do we do? Hmm?” His voice held a teasing lilt, his gaze resting on her pout as if it were the most adorable thing he’d ever seen.

Luna huffed, still pouting as she glanced back at him, her eyes holding that familiar glint that told him she was about to ask for something. He waited, raising an eyebrow, letting the silence hang between them as if to say, Well?

“You want us to order room service?” Jeonghan asked, already knowing her answer.

Luna nodded, her eyes lighting up with a hopeful gleam as she met his gaze.

Jeonghan chuckled, shaking his head at her fondly. “Alright.”

Her face lit up, a beaming smile spreading across her lips as she practically bounced off the sofa, following him to the small telephone on the desk in the corner of the room. She reached for the room service menu, flipping through it as Jeonghan hovered beside her, watching her with that same indulgent look.

“What do you want, Nana-ya?” he asked, his voice soft, playful.

“Cake,” Luna replied simply, her eyes still scanning the menu before she glanced up at him. “You?”

“We can share,” Jeonghan said with a grin, his eyes meeting hers as she nodded in agreement.

Satisfied, Luna picked up the phone, dialing the number for room service. As she waited for someone to pick up, she felt Jeonghan’s presence close behind her, his hand coming to rest gently on her shoulder. Then, without warning, he leaned down, his head nestling into the curve of her neck as he inhaled her familiar scent, the faint aroma of her perfume filling his senses.

“Room service, how can I assist you?” the receptionist’s polite voice crackled through the phone.

“Yes, hello,” Luna began, her tone polite and measured. “We’d like to order a dessert, please. Just a slice of your chocolate cake.” She paused, glancing at Jeonghan to confirm, and he gave a lazy nod against her shoulder, his breath warm on her skin.

As she spoke, Jeonghan’s lips found her neck, placing gentle, feather-light kisses along her skin, his face nestled in the crook where her neck met her shoulder. She could feel the soft brush of his hair against her cheek, the subtle scrape of his teeth as he teased her with a playful nip. She bit back a smile, her cheeks warming as she focused on the conversation with the receptionist.

“Yes, just one slice of the chocolate cake, please,” she continued, trying to keep her voice steady as Jeonghan’s lips trailed lower, his hand wrapping around her waist as he held her close. He let out a soft, almost petulant whine against her skin, the sound vibrating through her neck, as though he was annoyed she wasn’t paying attention to him.

“Uh… yes, that will be all,” Luna finished, a hint of breathlessness creeping into her voice as she ran her fingers through his hair to appease him, scratching lightly at his scalp in a way that made him sigh contentedly against her.

“Very well, it will be delivered shortly. Thank you,” the receptionist replied.

“Thank you,” Luna managed, before hanging up and setting the phone down with a soft exhale.

The dim light of the room cast a warm glow across Jeonghan's face as he and Luna held each other's gaze, a silent but magnetic pull between them. His eyes traced over her face, taking in every detail as if he was committing it to memory-the subtle curve of her lips, the flutter of her lashes, the way her cheeks held a faint flush that only deepened as he looked at her.

And she, in turn, scanned his face with equal intensity, noticing the playful glint in his eyes, the slight tilt of his lips that hinted at his next move.

"So," Jeonghan began in a low, teasing murmur, "you think dessert was really worth interrupting our time alone, hmm?"

Luna smirked, shrugging in that casual, flirtatious way of hers. "A girl has her priorities," she quipped, her voice as cool as her expression, though her eyes sparkled with mischief. "And it's not my fault you dragged me out of the restaurant early."

Jeonghan chuckled softly, a sound that seemed to fill the room and reverberate through her chest. He took a slow, deliberate step closer, his gaze never leaving hers. "Oh, is that right? I'm the one to blame?"

She tilted her head back to maintain eye contact as he advanced, her posture cool and composed, though her heart was racing beneath her calm facade. "If you have something to say, Hannie," she teased, her voice just above a whisper, "you should say it instead of just staring."

He arched a brow, clearly amused. "Maybe I'm saying plenty... without words."

Their banter flowed with ease, layered with unspoken tension, each word a deliberate nudge in a game neither wanted to end. As he took another step, Luna found herself instinctively moving back until her legs bumped against a chair, forcing her to sit.

She watched him intently, eyes wide and breath held as he loomed over her, one hand braced on the back of the chair near her head.

Jeonghan leaned in, his dark hair falling forward, nearly brushing her face. His free hand reached up, fingers ghosting over her cheek as he cupped her face gently, his thumb tracing her skin in slow, tantalizing circles. Luna's breath hitched as she looked up at him, her expression softening, her eyes reflecting an unspoken plea. She wanted him to close the distance, to eliminate the aching space between them.

He dipped his head lower, his face so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with hers. She closed her eyes, leaning in, lips parted in anticipation as their mouths brushed. But just as their lips met, Jeonghan paused, his smirk growing as he pulled back ever so slightly.

Her eyes flew open, meeting his with a mixture of frustration and longing, but he only grinned, his gaze holding a wicked gleam. "What's the rush, hmm?" he murmured, barely containing his laughter as he watched her reaction.

She let out a small, frustrated whine, her voice soft but audible, as she chased his lips again. But he leaned back just enough to keep her wanting, teasing her with the closeness yet denying her what she craved. He cooed at her, his tone dripping with playful condescension, "Aigo... are you that impatient, baby?"

Luna's lips formed into a pout, her eyes pleading as she whispered, "Please, Han..."

His laughter was soft, warm, a gentle rumble that made her heart skip. "Now, how can I say no to that?" he replied, finally relenting as he closed the gap between them.

Their lips met in a kiss that was anything but gentle-he pressed against her with a fervor that matched the tension that had built between them, his mouth moving over hers with practiced ease. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer. His lips were soft but firm, tasting faintly of the wine they'd shared at dinner, and she could feel the warmth of him seeping into her as their mouths moved together, slow and deep.

His hand stayed on her cheek, fingers brushing back the stray strands of her hair as he tilted her head, deepening the kiss with a controlled intensity that left her breathless. Her fingers slipped into his hair, tugging lightly, drawing a soft, muffled groan from him as their mouths continued their unhurried exploration.

Just as she was beginning to lose herself entirely in the kiss, her senses drowned in the taste of him, a sudden sound interrupted them-the shrill ring of the doorbell. Jeonghan pulled back, breathing slightly heavier, his lips curving into a smirk as he glanced toward the door.

Luna's eyes flew open, her expression one of dazed frustration as she realized what had happened. She whined again, softer this time, her fingers still clutching his shirt as she leaned forward, trying to capture his lips once more.

But Jeonghan laughed, straightening as he gently extricated himself from her grasp.

"Guess dessert couldn't wait," he teased, reaching down to press a quick, affectionate peck to her pouty lips before pulling away entirely. “Priorities right?”

She huffed, crossing her arms as she sank back into the chair, watching him move toward the door with an exasperated expression. "I regret mentioning dessert," she muttered under her breath.

“Oh I bet you do,” Jeonghan looked back at her, chuckling softly. "Don't pout, Nana-ya. I'll be right back," he cooed, his voice teasing as he shot her a wink.

Jeonghan moved gracefully to the door, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, and pulled it open, revealing a young woman dressed smartly in the hotel’s uniform. Her eyes widened a fraction as she took in his features, her gaze lingering a bit longer than necessary, clearly caught off guard by his ethereal presence. Jeonghan offered her a polite smile, his usual charm dripping effortlessly as he opened the door wider to allow her in.

The staff member seemed momentarily stunned, her steps hesitant as she entered the suite with the cake on a silver platter.

Luna, watching from her seat with narrowed eyes, tilted her head back slightly, caught in a moment of exasperation. She wasn’t sure if she should thank the universe for blessing her with such a gorgeous boyfriend or curse it for how every other woman seemed to be magnetically drawn to him. She sighed, the sound soft but noticeable, and leaned back in her chair, arms folded.

“You can place it there. Thank you,” Luna said, her voice polite yet firm as she gestured to the table in front of her.

The staff member barely glanced in Luna’s direction, seemingly dismissive as she followed her instruction but kept her attention fixed on Jeonghan. She set the cake down with a smile that was far too warm for a mere transaction, and as she straightened, her gaze returned to Jeonghan with a coyness that was impossible to ignore.

Jeonghan, sensing Luna’s mood shifting, subtly leaned back against the cabinet behind him, his eyes sliding over to her as though waiting for her to finally reach her limit. His eyebrow lifted in a silent challenge, a playful gleam dancing in his eyes as he watched her closely, a silent spectator to the tension building in the room.

The staff member, oblivious to the silent exchange between the couple, stepped closer to Jeonghan, her tone lilting with a French accent as she spoke. “You are staying long in Paris?” she asked, her voice filled with a flirtatious curiosity. “It is a beautiful city, no?”

Jeonghan offered her a polite nod, his understanding of English limited at best. He caught only pieces of what she said, but he remained courteous, his eyes shifting momentarily to Luna, who sat perfectly still, her gaze fixed on the woman with a barely concealed edge.

Luna, on the other hand, understood every single word. Every subtle inflection, every soft laugh, every lingering glance— all of it rang clear as day to her. She was used to seeing women fawn over Jeonghan; it was practically part of dating him or simply being friends with him. Luna usually had no issues with it, didn’t blame them for admiring what was hers.

But what grated on her now was the lack of respect— the dismissal in the way these women acted, first the waitress earlier and now this. The feeling of possessiveness simmered within her, a dark and shadowy friend she knew well.

The staff member’s next words, however, set something off within her.

“Is she your sister?” the woman asked, gesturing subtly toward Luna without even glancing her way. Her tone was deceptively innocent as she continued, “If so, I can give you my number, and we can get to know each other more. I bet we’d hit it off.”

The question barely registered in Jeonghan’s mind, his limited English leaving him clueless, but Luna? Luna understood every syllable, and as the words settled, she felt the blood rush in her ears, a wave of red tinting her vision.

Jeonghan, however, seemed to sense the shift in the air. His gaze snapped to hers, and there was an unmistakable glint in his eyes— something dark and almost wicked, as if he was daring her, waiting for her to react.

No, he wanted her to react. He wanted her to claim him, just as he’d claimed her earlier at the restaurant, making it clear that she belonged to him.

The woman’s suggestion was the final straw.

“Oh honey, it would take a miracle for him to like you,” Luna’s voice cut through the room, her tone sharper and deeper than usual, each word laced with a lethal edge.

The woman’s head snapped to Luna, her eyes widening in surprise, clearly not expecting such a reaction. Jeonghan leaned further back against the cabinet, arms crossed and an amused smirk curling his lips as he watched the scene unfold, his ego clearly enjoying the moment. If anything, he looked more intrigued by Luna than ever, his gaze holding a fierce appreciation for the fire in her eyes.

“Actually,” Luna continued, her tone unyielding and dripping with sarcasm, “I’m his girlfriend.” She smiled, the expression so sugary sweet it could have given someone a toothache, but there was no mistaking the bite beneath it. “Thank you for going above and beyond as our hotel staff— your service is no longer needed. I’ll make sure that your management gets my feedback on your… attentiveness.” She paused, letting the word hang in the air before adding, “You can leave now.”

Jeonghan may not have understood the specifics of what she said, but he didn’t need to. Her body language, her voice, and the way the staff’s face twisted in irritation before she huffed and turned on her heel told him everything he needed to know. The woman left the room with her head held high, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving the air heavy and charged with an electric tension.

Jeonghan’s smirk widened as he watched Luna, a low chuckle escaping him as he took in the defiance and possessiveness radiating off her. She sat there, her arms still crossed, her gaze challenging as she held his eyes, waiting for his reaction.

“So,” he drawled, moving from the cabinet to stand in front of her, his eyes glinting with amusement, “you were jealous.”

Luna scoffed, though the slight pink tint on her cheeks betrayed her. “Jealous? Don’t make me laugh, Han. You know me, I am never jealous.” she repeated, lifting her chin. “I was simply reminding her of her place.”

Jeonghan laughed softly, the sound rich and smooth as he leaned down, bringing his face closer to hers. “Oh, is that all it was?” he teased, his voice low and taunting. “Looked a bit like jealousy to me.”

Luna’s eyes narrowed, the spark in her gaze sharp and unyielding. She leaned forward, her voice firm as she shot back, “I am not jealous, Yoon Jeonghan. Not of someone like her, not of anyone like her. Do you really think I’d waste my time and energy on something so… so… trivial?”

Jeonghan’s lips curved into a knowing smirk, his amusement only growing as he watched the fire flare in her eyes. “Of course not,” he replied, dragging out the words with deliberate ease. “I must have it wrong, then.” His tone was mockingly thoughtful as he tilted his head, studying her intently. “It’s not jealousy, hmm?” He paused, then added, “No… it’s just my possessive little bunny finally showing her true colors.”

The nickname made Luna’s retort die on her lips. She inhaled sharply, a flicker of awareness flashing across her face as his words settled, leaving her momentarily speechless. Because as much as she wanted to deny it, she knew he was right. The word “possessive” rang true, and he could see the admission in her eyes before she even had to say it.

Unwilling to concede completely, she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a huff, her expression guarded yet defiant. Jeonghan’s eyes softened with an amused glint as he took in her posture, seeing through every layer she tried to hide behind. He lowered himself down, crouching directly in front of her, bringing their faces level. His gaze was warm yet teasing, as if he were savoring this moment of truth between them.

Luna met his eyes, her gaze unwavering, though there was a slight flush in her cheeks. She might have given in this time, but her defiance lingered, a silent reminder that this battle between them was far from over.

Luna narrowed her eyes, though she couldn’t help the corner of her lips tugging upward. “Don’t flatter yourself, Yoon Jeonghan. I was being considerate,” she replied coolly, the fire in her eyes flickering dangerously. “Thought she’d appreciate knowing that she was wasting her time.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying the way she held her ground, the tension between them sizzling with every exchange. “Well,” he murmured, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering at her cheek, “considerate or not, I have to say, I like seeing this side of you.”

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow, her voice laced with a challenge. “And which side is that?”

“The side that knows I’m hers,” he replied smoothly, his gaze never leaving hers.

Luna’s breath hitched slightly, but she kept her composure, refusing to let him see just how much his words affected her. Instead, she leaned in closer, her voice barely a whisper as she said, “Then I hope you remember it, too.”

Jeonghan’s smirk softened into something deeper, his eyes warm as he leaned down, his lips just a breath away from hers. “Trust me,” he whispered, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Luna raised an eyebrow at him, her gaze unwavering, an amused spark dancing in her eyes. "Yeah?" she asked, her tone laced with playful skepticism as her arm snaked around his neck, pulling him just a little closer.

Jeonghan held her gaze, unflinching, the corners of his mouth curling in that infuriatingly charming way. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly rose from his crouching position in front of her, her arms still looped around his neck, lifting with him as he stood. Their faces remained mere inches apart, the tension between them crackling like electricity in the air.

"Yeah," he breathed out, his voice low and filled with certainty. He gently guided her to rise with him, his hands steady at her waist, and in one fluid motion, he turned them around. Before she fully registered the shift, Jeonghan had slipped into the chair she'd been sitting in moments earlier, leaving her standing between his legs, his hands still firmly on her waist.

Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he tugged her closer, pulling her down onto his lap in one swift motion that caught her completely off guard. She gasped, her voice spilling out in a startled laugh as she found herself straddling him, her knees bracketing his hips as she settled in his lap.

For a moment, they simply looked at each other, her heart pounding as she gazed down at him, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck once more. She began to absentmindedly toy with a strand of his long hair, letting it curl around her fingers as a small, satisfied smile tugged at her lips.

Meanwhile, Jeonghan leaned back in the chair with a lazy, contented grin, his fingers pressing into her waist with a possessive hold. He adjusted himself in the seat, pushing his hips deeper into the cushion and sinking further into the chair, all while his gaze never left hers.

"You seem comfortable," she remarked, a teasing edge to her voice, but the way her fingers trailed through his hair betrayed just how much she was enjoying this, too.

Jeonghan's grin only widened, his fingers tracing gentle circles against her waist.

"Comfortable?" he echoed, his eyes glinting up at her. "With you right here? Very comfortable." He gave her waist a light squeeze, leaning back even further, as if daring her to keep her balance as he gently guided her hips to move against his with a teasing smirk, showing him how much her little stunt earlier had affecting him.

"How about you, hmm? Are you comfortable?" Jeonghan asked her.

Luna's breath hitched as she felt the hard length of him straining against his pants, pressing against her through the thin fabric of her skirt that has ridden up. She bit her lip, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as she savored the sensation, her hips instinctively rolling against him in response. When she opened her eyes again, they were filled with a hunger that mirrored his own.

"Not quite," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, her fingers tightening in his hair. "But I could be."

Jeonghan's smirk faded, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated desire. His grip on her waist tightened, his thumbs tracing circles on her skin, pushing her skirt higher up her thighs. "What do you want, my angel?" he growled, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down her spine.

She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "I want you to prove to me that your mine, Hannie."

He groaned, his fingers digging into her flesh as he pulled her closer, his hips bucking against her. "Fuck, Jiyeon," he swore, his voice ragged, "you drive me crazy. Is that what you want?"

She smirked, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she rocked against him, her eyes locked onto his. "Uh huh. That's the plan," she purred, her voice laced with a sultry promise.

Jeonghan's hands slid up her thighs, pushing her skirt up until it bunched around her waist, baring her to him. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of her, his breath hitching as he watched Luna grind onto him, her blonde hair messy as she leaned back, his fingers tightening around her waist as he helped her grind on him.  His cock throbbed, pressing painfully against his zipper, desperate to be freed. He could feel her heat through her panties, and it took every ounce of self-control he had not to rip them off and bury himself inside her right then and there.

"Fuck, Luna," he groaned, his voice strained as he watched her, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. "Just like that."

She smirked, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she continued to ride him, her movements growing bolder, more confident. "Your mine right?" she whispered, her voice husky with desire. "Say it, Han. Please, tell me you're mine."

Jeonghan's grip on her waist tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he thrust his hips upward, meeting her grinding movements with his own. "I'm yours, Bae Jiyeon," he growled, his voice ragged with need. "Always fucking yours. I’m yours, every single part of me… don’t ever forget that.”

Luna’s smirk widened, her eyes gleaming with triumph as she reached down between them, her fingers finding the button of his pants. With a quick flick, she popped it open, her knuckles brushing against his straining erection as she lowered the zipper.

Jeonghan hissed, his hips jerking involuntarily at the contact, his eyes never leaving hers. Luna licked her lips, a wicked gleam in her eyes as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling both his pants and underwear down, freeing his cock. It sprang forth, hard and ready, and she couldn't help but admire the sight of him, her mouth watering at the thought of having him inside her.

Jeonghan watched her, his chest heaving as he waited for her next move. Luna's eyes flicked up to meet his, a wicked glint in them as she wrapped her fingers around his shaft, giving it a slow, firm stroke that made him groan. Jeonghan's grip on her waist tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he fought to maintain control.

"Baby," he purred, his voice ragged. "You're killing me."

She smirked, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as she continued to stroke him, her thumb swirling around the sensitive head of his cock. "Not yet, baby," she whispered, her voice laced with a sultry promise. "But I will." His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of her, his breath hitching as he watched Luna grind onto him, her blonde hair messy as she leaned back, her fingers tightening around his shaft.

His cock throbbed, desperate to be inside her, but he wanted to watch her, to see her lose control.

"Grind on my lap, pretty angel," he commanded, his voice low and rough. "Show me how much you want me."

Luna's eyes flashed with a mix of surprise and excitement, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink. She hesitated for a moment before slowly started moving her hips back and forth faster while Jeonghan leaned back, his hands falling off her waist as he let her do all the work.  Luna's eyes fluttered closed, her head tilting back as she focused on the sensation of his hard length rubbing against her clit through her soaked panties. She moaned, her fingers tightening around his cock, stroking him in rhythm with her movements.

Jeonghan watched her, his eyes darkening with lust as he took in the sight of her. Her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, her lips parted, and her cheeks flushed with pleasure. He could feel her heat, her wetness seeping through her panties, coating his length.

The friction was exquisite, driving him wild, but he wanted more. He wanted to feel her bare, to slide into her warmth without any barriers. He reached up, his hands finding the hem of her shirt, and in one swift motion, he pulled it off, revealing her lacy bra underneath. Luna's eyes flew open, her pupils dilated with desire as she looked down at him, her chest heaving.

"Han..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Shh," he hushed her, his fingers trailing up her stomach, between her breasts, until they reached the clasp of her bra.

With a flick of his wrist, it came undone, and her breasts spilled out, her nipples already hard and aching for his touch. Luna gasped, her back arching as he cupped one breast, his thumb circling her nipple, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core.

"Fuck, Han… Hannie," she moaned, her hips grinding harder against him, seeking friction, needing release. "I need you."

He growled, his eyes locked onto her bouncing tits, his cock throbbing with need. "You want my cock, angel?" he rasped, his voice thick with desire. "Tell me how bad you want it."

Luna whimpered, her hips rolling against him, her pussy aching for him. "I want it so fucking bad, Han," she panted, her nails digging into his shoulders. "I need you inside me. Now."

Jeonghan's grip on her hip tightened, his other hand moving to her ass, squeezing it roughly as he helped her grind against him. "You want me to fuck you, my pretty girl?" he coos, his voice low and dirty.

"Say it, Jiyeon. Beg for me."

Luna's breath hitched, her eyes flashing with a mix of surprise and excitement. She loved it when he talked to her like that, when he took control and demanded things from her. It made her feel alive, desired, and utterly fucking sexy.

"I want you, oppa," she moaned, her hips rolling against him, her pussy throbbing with need. "I need you to fuck me hard. Please."

“You do?” Jeonghan hummed as his eyes darkened, his grip on her hip and ass tightening as he lifted her slightly, sliding her panties to the side before positioning himself at her entrance.

Luna's breath hitched as she nodded, her eyes locked onto his as she felt the head of his cock press against her, hot and ready. She was soaking wet, her panties drenched, and she could feel her arousal coating his length, making it slick and easy for him to slide in.

"Look at me, Jiyeonie. Let me see that beautiful face," Jeonghan instructed, his voice low and rough. "I want to see your eyes when I fuck you."

She nodded, her gaze never wavering as he slowly pushed into her, inch by inch, filling her completely. Luna's breath hitched, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she adjusted to his size, her inner walls stretching to accommodate him. Jeonghan groaned, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he savored the feeling of being inside her, her tight heat enveloping him completely.

"Fuck, angel," he moaned, his voice strained as he opened his eyes to look at her. "You feel so fucking good."

She smirked, her hips rolling against him, taking him deeper. "I could say the same to you, Hannie," she purred, her voice laced with satisfaction.

She began to move, her hips rolling in a slow, sensuous dance as she rode him, taking him deeper with each thrust. Jeonghan's fingers dug into her flesh, his grip tight as he helped guide her movements, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Nana-ya," he groaned, his voice ragged as he watched her, his cock throbbing inside her. "You feel so good. All mine."

Luna smirked, her nails raking down his chest, leaving red lines in their wake. "All yours, huh?" she taunted, her voice low and sultry. "Prove it, Han. Fuck me like you mean it."

Jeonghan's eyes flashed with a primal hunger, his grip on her hips tightening as he slammed up into her, making her gasp. "Like this, baby?" he growled, his voice laced with a dark intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

“Han– Oh, fuck, baby,” Luna's breath hitched, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she met his thrusts, her hips rolling against him, taking him deeper with each stroke.

“Look at you, getting all flustered… my little bunny can’t handle a bit of the attention now, hmm?” Jeonghan's grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he slammed into her, his cock filling her completely, hitting that sweet spot deep inside her that made her see stars. “That feel good? Yeah? Just like this?”

"Fuck, Jeonghan!" she cried out, her head tilting back, her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. "Yes! Just like that!"

Jeonghan chuckled, his teeth sinking into her neck, marking her as he pounded into her, his hips moving with a ferocity that took her breath away.

Luna's fingers clawed at his back, her nails digging into his flesh, leaving red welts in their wake. She could feel the heat building inside her, her orgasm approaching like a freight train, threatening to consume her whole.

"Oppa– Han…," she gasped, her voice ragged, "I'm close."

He lifted his head, his eyes burning into hers, his jaw clenched as he fought for control. "Not yet, baby,” he tutted, his voice low and rough as he stopped making Luna whine.  "Not until I say so."

She glared at him, her chest heaving, her body aching for release. "You're being mean, Hannie," she panted, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

He smirked, before lifting her as he stood up off the chair, her legs wrapping around his waist as he placed her on the bed. "Am I being mean to you, bunny?" he cooed, his voice laced with amusement, "But you like it when I’m like this."

Luna's eyes flashed with anger, but he could see the desire burning in them, too.

She wanted this, needed this, just as much as he did. He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a fierce, demanding kiss, his tongue sliding in to tangle with hers. She moaned, her body melting into his, her legs tightening around his waist as she ground against him, seeking friction.

Jeonghan broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, his teeth nipping at her skin, leaving marks that would remind her of this moment, of him, long after tonight was over. He pushed her back onto the bed, his body following hers down, his hips settling between her thighs.

Luna's breath hitched as she felt the weight of him, the hard length of him pressed against her, throbbing with need. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of desire and defiance, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.

Jeonghan smirked, his eyes darkening as he took in her flushed cheeks, her swollen lips, and her heaving chest. "You're so fucking beautiful, my love," he murmured, his voice low and rough.

His hands traced patterns on her skin, his fingers skimming over her curves, making her shiver. She could feel his hardness pressing against her, hot and insistent, and it made her ache for him even more.

"Hannie," she whispered, her voice laced with desperation. "Please."

He chuckled, a low, dirty sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Please what, Nana-ya?" he teased, his fingers dipping lower, tracing the edge of her panties. "What do you want me to do to you?  “What is it, baby? You want more? Just say the word, and it’s yours.”

Luna's breath hitched, her body arching into his touch, her eyes locked onto his. "Fuck me, baby, please," she pleaded, her voice ragged with need. "Make me come.”

Jeonghan's eyes darkened, his grip on her thigh tightening as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, pulling them down roughly. He grabbed her thighs, spreading them wide, and positioned himself at her entrance. She was soaking wet, her arousal coating his length, making it slick and easy for him to slide back in.

Jeonghan's eyes locked onto hers as he slowly pushed into her, inch by inch, filling her completely. “You know I’d do anything for you, right? Anything to make my baby happy. God– I’m in fucking love with you.”

He groaned, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he savored the feeling of being inside her, her tight heat enveloping him completely.

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you, my sweet girl?” Jeonghan groaned as he continued to thrust into her. She could feel the heat building inside her, her orgasm approaching like a storm on the horizon.

“Han," she gasped, her voice ragged, "I can't... I can't hold on much longer."

Jeonghan moaned, his grip on her hips tightening, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. "Come for me, Jiyeonie," he commanded, his voice low and rough. "Come all over my cock, baby. Show me how much you love it."

Luna's breath hitched, her fingers clawing at his back as she felt the heat inside her coil tighter, ready to snap. "Han," she gasped, her voice ragged, "I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

“I know, I know baby,” He tightened his hold on her, his hips slamming into hers, his cock filling her completely. "Do it, bunny," he grunted, his voice strained. "Come for me.”

And just like that, she shattered, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave, consuming her whole.

“Fuck, Han!” She whined his name, her body convulsing beneath him, her inner walls clamping down around him, milking him for all he was worth. Jeonghan groaned, his hips stuttering as he followed her over the edge, his cock pulsing inside her, filling her with his hot seed.

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies entwined, their breaths ragged as they came down from their high. Jeonghan rolled off her, his arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her close as he spooned her from behind.

Luna's breath was still ragged, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to regain some semblance of composure. She could feel Jeonghan's cock, still semi-hard, nestled against her ass, and it sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

"Fuck," Jeonghan murmured, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice still heavy with desire. "You drive me insane. Only you, baby. Only ever you," Jeonghan told her, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down her spine.

She hummed in agreement, her eyes fluttering closed as she savored the warmth of his body pressed against hers. "Only me," she agreed, her voice soft, intimate, as she turned to face him, capturing his lips in a slow, lingering kiss. Her back pressed further into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart matching her own.

"My pretty girl," he muttered against her lips, breaking the kiss to look at her, his gaze dark with desire and affection. "You're insatiable."

A smirk danced across her lips as she pulled away slightly, just enough to settle her head on his chest, draping herself over him with a kind of lazy confidence. "I can't help it," she whispered, her voice taking on a sultry edge. "You bring out the best and worst in me, Hannie."

Jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, wrapping his arms around her, fingers tracing idle patterns along her back. "Well, l'd hate to deprive you of such excellent inspiration," he replied, a playful glint in his eye. "Though if this is the 'worst' in you... I think I might be the luckiest guy alive."

She gave him a playful glare, swatting at his chest. "Don't get too cocky now," she teased, though her smile betrayed her amusement.

"Oh, baby," he cooed, eyes gleaming with that familiar mischief. "I think you're the only one allowed to be cocky here." He leaned down, brushing his lips over her forehead with a featherlight touch. "I'm just here to keep up, give you what you need, and maybe make you a little crazy along the way."

Luna let out a soft laugh, rolling her eyes at his words, but she felt her heart swell with the warmth only he could give her. "Maybe?" she challenged, arching an eyebrow.

"Fine," he conceded, smirking. "A lot crazy. But only for me, right?"

She settled back into him, her voice barely a whisper. "Only for you. Only ever you."

Luna hummed in satisfaction, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest as she snuggled closer, her body worn out from the intense lovemaking.

They lay there for a while, basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Luna could feel Jeonghan's chest rising and falling rapidly under her, his heart beating rapidly against her ear. She could feel his lips pressed against her forehead, his arms wrapped around her, holding her close.

Luna savored the way Jeonghan made her feel— a feeling of belonging so profound that it left her utterly captivated. She felt claimed, possessed in the best possible way, like she was both his entire world and something he would fight to keep all to himself. No one had ever made her feel like this before, like she was more than just someone to hold.

Jeonghan made her feel desired, cherished, protected… all at once.

She loved the softness in his touch, the gentleness in his eyes, and the way he could melt her defenses with a single word. But she also loved the way he unleashed something wilder within her, something she hadn’t even known existed until she met him. He made her feel wild and untamed, free to give in to desires that once felt foreign, unrestrained in a way that sent a thrill racing through her.

For the first time in her twenty-six years of existence, Luna found herself thankful for the presence of that lingering shadow she usually kept hidden—possessiveness. It was always there, lurking quietly, rarely stirred.

But Jeonghan, with his effortless charm, his mischievous smile, and that knowing gaze, he brought it to life. And instead of shying away from it, she welcomed it. She embraced it because it meant she didn’t have to hold back when it came to him. She could be unapologetically hers and his all at once, unguarded in her feelings, reveling in the thrill of knowing he was hers to claim just as much as he claimed her.

Just as she was sinking into this feeling, basking in that delicious sense of belonging, a sudden thought shot through her mind, jolting her from the warmth of Jeonghan’s arms.

Luna gasped, sitting up abruptly.

Jeonghan’s eyes widened, his hand immediately coming up to steady her, a flash of worry crossing his face. “What?” he asked, his tone laced with confusion and a hint of alarm.

She pouted, her gaze darting toward the table. “My cake!” she exclaimed, voice tinged with frustration as she moved to get up.

Jeonghan watched her, and after a second of stunned silence, he sighed and chuckled, shaking his head in amused disbelief. “You’ve got to stop scaring me like that,” he muttered, standing up to grab the cake himself before she could.

Luna huffed, crossing her arms and shooting him a playful glare. “The cake, Han!” she complained, her pout only deepening at his apparent lack of urgency.

He held up his hands in surrender, smirking as he reached for the cake on the table. “Alright, alright,” he said, indulging her with a gentle tone, his voice full of doting affection as he brought it over to her. “Here’s your precious cake, my demanding little bunny that I love so much.”

“I love you more,” Luna replied instantly, her focus shifting entirely to the cake now in her hands, a gleam of satisfaction lighting up her face.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smirk. “Are you talking about the cake or me?” he asked, his tone deadpan but his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Luna’s head snapped up, her gaze narrowing as she glared at him, lips curling into a stubborn pout. She held the cake protectively, as if shielding it from any further teasing.

Jeonghan chuckled, clearly entertained by her reaction. He reached out, gently brushing his fingers against her cheek, his voice dropping to a soft, affectionate coo. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, Nana-ya,” he teased, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “I know you love me more. But you’re still adorable when you’re pretending otherwise.”

Luna’s pout deepened, but the hint of a smile betrayed her. She rolled her eyes, and despite herself, her lips quirked upward just slightly.

Jeonghan’s chuckle turned into a warm laugh, his gaze filled with that familiar mix of mischief and adoration that only he could pull off. And in that cozy, sweet moment, with Luna clutching her beloved cake and Jeonghan’s laughter filling the room, the night felt perfect— just the two of them, in their own little world.

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Sebek and fem! Fae reader please? Specifically breeding, maybe the reader can also be his crush or friend??? Idk I've never asked for a request before and English isn't my first language

Warnings: Characters are 18+, 69 position, breeding, Fem!AFAB!Reader who is NOT Yuu and is referred to as Y/N, sex with the intention of pregnancy, unprotected sex, loss of virginity on Sebek’s side (left it ambiguous for reader), switch!Sebek and switch!Reader, marriage proposal at the end

Sebek Zigvolt

It didn’t surprise you to hear that the students with animal characteristics went through heats, ruts, and mating seasons in general. However… you were saddened when you hadn’t received any responses from your friend/crush, Sebek. The only way you received updates about his condition was through Silver.

Now, you were a fae as well, but you did not suffer through a heat or a mating season. You suspect that it’s due to you not having a specific animal characteristic, but instead, you would sync up with any partner you took on. The same thing happened with your mother, so it made sense.

However, you immediately became worried when you were summoned to Headmage Crowley’s office. Lilia and Silver were there as well, and both had rather solemn expressions.

“Is… Is everything alright?” You asked, fidgeting with your fingers.

Lilia stepped closer to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“My dear, this is going to be a rather… awkward conversation. I recommend you sit down.” He said, motioning to a chair. You sit down, and Crowley starts speaking.

“Y/N, it appears that Sebek Zigvolt’s rut is getting worse, and it has come to my attention that your mating traditions adapt to a partner.” At the first statement, your eyes widen.

“‘Worse’? What do you mean? Is he alright?” You looked towards Lilia and Silver.

“Sebek has been getting violent. His rut is getting severe, and I fear that he will become even more destructive in his search for a mate. Now, this is where it gets awkward. We know of your feelings for him, and he reciprocates those feelings.” Lilia responded.

Your face feels really hot all of a sudden as you realize where this conversation is headed. How did they know about your feelings for Sebek?

Crowley walks forward and starts speaking. It made you uncomfortable when he was genuinely serious.

“We’re thinking that maybe… it would be a good idea to pair you and Mr. Zigvolt together. Of course, we need to make sure that we have your consent, and if we do not, then we will find a containment unit that can handle him until his rut is over.”

You nod, looking down. You had two decisions: have sex with your friend/crush, or have him locked up. No pressure, right? “One thing before you accept or decline, Y/N… you need to know that Sebek would be mated to you for life. There is no casual-ness in this.” Silver stated. This was the first time you actually saw him fully alert and awake… Props to him.

“...I will.” You state, confident in your decision. You take a deep breath before Lilia and Silver stand, getting ready to lead you to Diasomnia.

~~~~~~~~

Almost immediately upon entering the dormitory, you noticed that the foyer and lounge were empty. It might have been because the other students locked themselves up so as to contain themselves. You eventually stopped in front of a very familiar door… and inside, you heard groans of… pain?

You looked back, and Lilia had a ghost of a smile while Silver was… asleep. It didn’t surprise you, and you rolled your eyes as you entered the room. However, you heard Lilia celebrating the fact that he might have grandchildren to care for soon.

Anyway, you looked and saw that the room was dark and torn apart. The curtains were drawn, but torn, leaving just a little bit of sunlight peeking through into the room. You walked up to the bed, and you noticed that Sebek was entirely nude, and his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat.

The look in his eyes almost looked pained… he was panting heavily. Under his blanket, you could tell that he was pumping his hand up and down his cock. However… there was no evidence of him actually ejaculating. 

“Y-Y/N… please… do not make me beg…” His voice is desperate as are his eyes, and suddenly… you started feeling hot. Your heat was starting to come in at full force, and it did not take long until you were unclothed and on top of him, straddling him.

You both were panting as your lips met. Your tongue slipped into his mouth and he let out a moan. After a few seconds, you both pulled away for air.

“Y/N… I… I don’t…” You understood what he meant. He was a virgin… he had no idea what he was doing. You smiled gently as you turned around.

“It’s okay, Seb… just… use your tongue…” You whisper as you are faced with his… holy shit, it was huge. You stuck your tongue out and licked his long, thick member, and you felt Sebek’s grip on your hips tighten as he shuddered.

On his end… he swiped his tongue against your folds… and he was pussy-whipped. You tasted like fucking Heaven. He let out a groan as he immediately started eating you out. You would have thought that he hadn’t eaten anything in years had you been able to even think. 

You grind your hips down onto the half-fae’s face before silencing yourself by leaning down to begin to take his length into your mouth. You only got about three inches before you reached your max. However, Sebek didn’t seem to mind. He was getting pleasure just from devouring your pussy.

The second you released all over his face, he felt so proud of himself. His tongue movement wasn’t very experienced, that was for sure… but it was so enthusiastic and eager and passionate that your orgasm took you by surprise.

You tried to turn around, wanting nothing but his dick inside of you, but the second you were about to sink down onto him, he flipped you both over.

“Y/N… this… th-this is your last chance t-to… to tell me to stop…” His voice sounded pained, so you pulled him into a kiss as he positioned his cock… and slid it in. The stretch was absolutely painful, and Sebek paused to allow you to get used to and adjust to his length and girth.

But when you adjusted… you were seeing stars. His rhythm was amateur at best, but his dick was just so big… it reached that special spot inside you without him even trying. Not just that, but the man above you was whimpering against your mouth and tongue.

In… out… in… out… Sweat covered your skin as Sebek quickened his pace, and he pulled away from your lips.

“Please… please let me cum inside you…” He whimpered, and you nodded as you orgasmed for a second time all over his cock. The squelching sound that resulted from his continuing thrusts made you shudder in pleasure.

Soon, you felt warm cum be released inside you, and he let out a groan… but he didn’t stop. You were sensitive… but it felt too good. You felt so full as he pounded his cum back into you. “We’re not going to… stop… until I make… sure… you are carrying…” Sebek said through his groans and growls, and the mere thought of getting pregnant by this man made you so fucking wet. You couldn’t say anything, so you just nodded desperately as you reached your arms around him and dug your nails into his skin.

~~~~~~~~

Hours later, you both eventually surrender to exhaustion. You were trying to catch your breath when you turned to Sebek and you saw… nothing but absolute love in his eyes. “I… I don’t want it to seem as though I only used you to get through my rut, Y/N… I truly do want you to be my wife and the mother of my children… if you will have me,” The look he gave you made your heart flutter.

You smile gently up at him, cupping his face gently as you nod. “I want to be your wife and the mother of your children, Sebek. I want you to be my husband,” You respond.

Sebek reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a ring and placed it on your finger, pressing a kiss to it. “I vow to forever be yours, Y/N. I shall be the husband that I know you deserve. Your life and happiness are my first priorities… even after Waka-sama, before you ask.”

At the last bit, you smiled before you pressed your lips to his, sealing the engagement.

[sundrop-writes]

The Restricted Section

Hermione Granger x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader x Harry Potter

Summary:

Harry wishes that Hermione would just relax. Just because he doesn't know the exact source of a hand-written spell in an old textbook doesn't mean that it's completely evil.

Intent to prove her wrong, he dawns his Invisibility Cloak and sneaks off to the Restricted Section of the library, looking for a more solid source of that spell - and he completely forgets everything that he set out to do when he finds Hermione along the way, doing something (or rather, someone) in a secluded corner of the library that is definitely not studying. (Something that he'll never be able to get out of his mind ever again.)

Hermione Granger x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader x Harry Potter. Accidental Voyeurism upon an Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. Set during Half-Blood Prince.

Word Count: 4,400

Harry Potter Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this fic is primarily smut focused; there is some very vague plot - Harry and Hermione have an argument because Hermione doesn't like the Half-Blood Prince's book and wants Harry to get rid of it (and they are still not on good terms when the smutty stuff comes up); passing mention of a hex that gives you boils that never heal; the primary pairing in this fic is between Hermione and the reader, and Harry spies on them having sex using his Invisibility Cloak - that does mean that this fic has dubious consent and dubious morality, because Harry never asks for their permission to watch and never reveals himself to them, and during the course of this fic they also don't find out that he's there (if this is the kind of thing that makes you uncomfortable, then I would recommend moving on to one of my other fics); the reader has a vagina and uses she/her pronouns; the reader's looks - including race, hair colour, skin tone, etc. are not described in anyway; there is use of Y/N in this fic; the reader is a Gryffindor in this fic (I wanted her to be closer with Hermione, sharing a dorm with her, and be closer to the trio in general); Harry has had a crush on the reader for a while before this, but this is the first time he views Hermione sexually past his platonic friendship feelings for her; accidental voyeurism - Harry does not intend to spy on the girls, but once he discovers them, he doesn't stop watching; semi-public sex - Hermione and the reader are fucking in the library, but they are fucking in a much more secluded part of the library where Hermione knows that someone is less likely to discover them; there is some sub/dom dynamics - Hermione and the reader having a pre-existing sub/dom relationship where Hermione is very dominant and the reader is submissive, and Harry is understanding those dynamics as he observes them; Hermione calls the reader: little girl (not as indication of her size, but as a form of degradation and condescension), little bitch, little whore, slutty, brat, darling,; Hermione demands to be called 'Mistress'; Harry is a switch - he imagines himself as both dominant and submissive in his fantasies; (Harry as a 'sir' kink in his fantasies); mentions of creampie kink (one of Harry's fantasies); Hermione is very mean and condescending toward the reader; brat taming/punishment and reward - the reader has 'misbehaved' and Hermione seeks to correct it; degradation kink (towards the reader); Hermione fingers the reader; Hermione uses the reader's tie like a leash; lots of dirty talk (from Hermione); Harry considers masturbating but does not (because he fears getting caught) (and there is a mention of him masturbating to thoughts of what happened in a more private space afterwards); pussy spanking/clit spanking (from Hermione towards reader) and ass spanking (towards reader - just once) (no severe pain kink); orgasm denial (towards the reader); I believe that's it.

A/N: This was such a random idea that zapped into my head that demanded to be written. People were asking for Hermione x Fem!Reader smut and it was something I really wanted to do, but I only really felt inspired to do it when it occurred to me to write Hermione through Harry's eyes. To talk about her going from this very non-sexual being to someone so sexually powerful in his eyes - it was something really fun. And I am so glad I actually managed to squeeze this one in and finish it before the poll for the other fic finished up. I feel like this is such a fun, Harry Potter based idea that uses themes and elements unique to the series. And it's wonderful, filthy horny smut. So I hope that you guys enjoy!!

...

Harry really didn’t understand Hermione sometimes. 

She was an amazing friend, someone that he wouldn’t trade for the world - someone so wonderfully loyal, smart, and fun to be around during the times when she let herself actually relax and untense. But during the times when she had that intensely large stick up her arse, she could be the biggest pain in the world. Sometimes, it was like she stayed up late in her dormitory, just thinking of ways to drive Harry and Ron utterly mad. 

Yes, Harry knew that his particular fascination with the Half-Blood Prince’s book was not exactly… normal. But Hermione’s attachment to a lot of her books was never normal either. And just because the book was old didn’t mean that it was bad. Just because Harry was fascinated by it didn’t mean that there would be negative consequences. 

There was no reason for her to go off on a long tangent about ‘dark magic’ and ‘the Latin origins of spells’ when he had asked her about a hand-written spell that was in the book. Something that spiralled into a huge argument between the two of them when he refused to hand over the Prince’s book once she had asked him where he had gotten the spell. To her, it was something that sounded very dangerous, and she complained that therefore, the whole book was dangerous. He complained that she had a knot in her knickers because he had just been asking if she knew what the spell was or not, if she had heard of it before - it’s not like he had any intentions of actually using it. 

And then Hermione had warned him that he should simply throw the book away and he told her that she was just jealous that he was actually getting better grades than her in a class for once, and the night ended with her huffing off to bed and stomping up the stairs - and the two of them hadn’t spoken in over a day because of it. Ron was nagging both of them to make-up - but Harry was chuffed, honestly. For once, Ron knew what it felt like to be between two feuding friends, trying to mend the fences. 

Harry wasn’t going to apologise. 

Hermione wasn’t the queen of everything. She couldn’t just demand things from him and expect him to follow suit. He had his own brain, despite what she thought, and he could make his own judgements. Harry had no plans to use the spell if Hermione thought it was dangerous, and he had just been asking about it out of curiosity. But he was more peeved that it led to her demanding that he throw the book away or destroy it, like she held some authority over him, like she was his damn mother or something. 

This left Harry stewing in his annoyance as he made his way to the Restricted Section of the library the next night. He was still curious if the spell had any other known origins - another spell book, some kind of book about dark magic. Hell, he would revert to a Latin textbook if he was desperate, just to get a leg-up without directly asking Hermione. But he was headed to the Restricted Section first - because as much as she was annoying, Hermione usually was right. 

He was feeling confident and perhaps a bit cocky to find the source of the spell and wield some more knowledge over her that she didn’t have. For once. 

Harry had dawned his Invisibility Cloak for this task, of course. It wasn’t past curfew yet, but the library was about ten minutes from closing, and he knew that it would be easier to sneak in before Madame Pince locked up and stay there well after dark, taking his time in order to find what he needed. And any trip to the Restricted Section without a note from a professor giving permission required such a disguise. 

The library was practically deserted due to the late hour - most students having wandered off to bed like good rule followers. Harry wasn’t surprised when he heard a particular, familiar voice coming from an isolated area of small desks study carols back between a few towering book cases. Of course, she would think that this would be the perfect place to get her work done, undisturbed. He couldn’t hold back from rolling his eyes when he heard that voice taking on her usual scolding, bossy tone. 

“I am not at all pleased with you, you know that?” 

It was Hermione. 

Harry knew for a fact that Ron was in a corner of the Gryffindor common room, his face unpleasantly glued to Lavender’s once again, so he wasn’t the one in the path of Hermione’s wrath this time. Harry had to wonder who exactly had come on the other end of her up-tight, nosy fortitude. 

He had seen Hermione usher you off to the library after class earlier that afternoon, saying something about the mark on your last Transfiguration essay being ‘far below your usual standard’, and talking about how you ‘needed to follow her study schedule more closely’ - and Harry had felt sorry for you at the time, if anything. The fact that you would have Hermione hovering over your shoulder, bothering you all afternoon, marking all your work and making you redo it to her incredibly high standards. 

Sometimes, he felt sorry for the fact that you had to share a dorm with her. That you couldn’t escape Hermione even for a peaceful night of slumber. 

But surely the two of you hadn’t spent this long in the library together. Even you wouldn’t take three or four hours to do your homework up to Hermione’s standards. She would have freed you by now - and with any luck, you would be off somewhere, snogging some lucky bloke - (Harry couldn’t let that particular train of jealous thought get to him right now). 

“Little girl, am I going to have to get mean with you?” 

Hermione’s voice came again, just as bitter as usual, and then it clicked with Harry. 

No, it wasn’t you, perhaps Hermione was taking out her anger on a couple of First Years for not doing their homework, getting on the wrong end of Hermione’s ill-guided Prefect power that she wielded like a presidency. Harry held back a scoff of laughter, and he couldn’t help the urge to move toward the sound of her voice, eager to see what exactly was going on. 

“Stop being such a whiny little bitch - you asked for this. Now shut up and take it like a good little whore.” 

Those words - those words in Hermione’s voice - immediately smacked Harry in the face harder than any stunning curse ever could have. He craned his neck around the bookcase in front of him so hard to see what was happening that he harshly smacked one of his shoulders, nearly giving himself away with the noise and having to strangle down his cry of pain in order not to be caught. 

However, after a moment, he came around the corner completely and rested against the bookcase comfortably as his eyes took in the utterly unbelievable sight at the other end of the aisle. 

Holy fuck. 

Holy… fuck. 

It was you. 

You and Hermione. Hermione and you. 

You and Hermione looking like some sort of unbelievable pornographic dream. 

Hermione had you pressed up against a desk, your legs spread wide for her with your arse just balanced on the edge of the table while she stood between them - it took Harry’s very stunned brain a moment to process it, but he realised that her arm working furiously between your thighs like that, pistoning back and forth while you spread your legs wider and leaned into the touch could only mean one thing. 

She was finger-fucking your pussy. 

Harry had no clue how he hadn’t picked up on the other sounds previously, especially not in the dead quiet of the library. But it was blatantly fucking clear to his ears now. The sound of your wetness sliding against her fingers, so beautifully sloppy - he could only imagine how slick you were, how pretty your cunt looked around her fingers, which were usually only meant for gripping quills or turning the pages in her next book. Along with your repressed moans, barely caught in your chest where you were biting your lip raw, clearly trying your best to stay quiet - the sounds coming out, as Hermione had described them: whines, as though you were a needy bitch in heat. 

Harry was in utter shock. 

Never, in a thousand years, would ever have imagined Hermione Granger looking at you with crazed heat in her eyes, her stern brow and disappointed frown somehow so perfectly fitting for the situation. Scolding you in her bossy voice while she held on tight to your Gryffindor tie like a leash, keeping your posture tight and straight as she finger-fucked you in the most rough, harsh way that Harry could have ever pictured. 

Hermione - uptight, bookish, rule-bound Hermione - fucking you in the library where anybody could have caught the two of you. It seemed so wildly unimaginable, and yet - when more scolding words came out of her lips in that bossy tone, it seemed… so terribly fitting for her. 

“You’ve been such a naughty girl, haven’t you?” Hermione breathed hotly, giving another harsh tug on your tie that made you whine deeply in the back of your throat. 

Harry swore the sound of her fingers jabbing between your legs became even wetter, sloppier sounding. So you liked being called naughty. 

“Yes, I have-” You whined out, and Hermione tugged the tie again, cutting off anything further that you had to say with a harsh jolt. 

Harry’s cock snapped to attention at an alarmingly fast rate, the blood rushing into his prick so quickly that it almost made him dizzy. The moral contention of watching two of his good friends go at it didn’t really cross his mind at all (perhaps his morality was going a bit too grey, using an old marked up book to ‘cheat’ in his classes these days). But he knew that wanking would be a bad idea simply based on the fact that he would have a difficult time staying quiet. So he reached down and squeezed the bulge in his trousers, gaining little relief from this as he looked on. He likely wouldn’t have been able to pull his eyes away if Voldemort himself showed up and demanded it. 

“Such a naughty little bitch - you can’t even go one afternoon without having your slutty cunt filled, can you?” Hermione demanded, her words seemingly growing filthier by the second. 

“I need it.” You moaned, arching into her further, as though you were possessed. 

Harry would have wondered if she had been replaced by someone else, or bewitched - but you seemed to love it, loved everything she was saying. She seemed to be playing into a knowledge of your kinks, things that she knew would make you weaker and more lustful in her hands. Which was so Hermione that it was painful. Studying for something, keeping a backlog of useful knowledge. 

Harry just never would have guessed that she would have used her big brain for this. 

What made matters even more dizzying and shocking - this was Hermione and you. A pair he never would have thought up that also somehow made so much sense. Now, every single time the two of you snuck off giggling and Harry thought that it was just something girlish that he didn’t understand - he had to wonder what the two of you had been doing. 

The fact that Hermione had been Viktor Krum’s date to the Yule Ball and you had been Harry’s, but you and Hermione had been glued to each other all night made a lot more sense. Every single time the two of you walked to class together holding hands, every single time you showed up to the Gryffindor table with some kind of glaring love mark on your neck and Ginny or someone else asked you about it and Hermione had laughed when you named off a different boy from a different house - it all made strange sense in Harry’s eyes. 

This was you - one of the hottest, most sought-after girls at Hogwarts. The star of every single one of Harry’s wanking fantasies since you had given him a pity kiss under some mistletoe after a DA meeting. (He had a feeling that Hermione would be sneaking into those fantasies too, now, as much as he had tried to keep her out on the grounds that it would be rude to wank to his best friend). You, someone who was so gorgeous and so desirable and somehow never seemed to have a long-term boyfriend, as often as guys asked you on dates, and as often as you claimed to like certain boys and even flirted with them. 

Apparently Hermione had been keeping you on a leash this whole time. A tight leash - just like the way she was holding your tie, keeping you close, keeping you waiting with baited breath for her next move. 

“Mione-” You breathed out in return, a slight begging in your voice that had Harry light-headed in seconds. 

This was better than any fantasy he could have dreamt up. 

“Ah-ah. Hush, little girl.” Hermione fired back, that bossy condescending she always used somehow sounding all the more perfect in this context. “You’ve been such a proper brat all day, and you’re going to take what I give you, understand?” 

You nodded your head (as much as you could with the hold she had on you) and made a noise of affirmation. But Hermione gave another sharp tug on your tie, clearly displeased with this. 

“Come on, use your words now. Be a good girl.” She ordered sharply, the only thing giving away what must have been her own arousal being a slight hint of breath on her voice. Otherwise, she was entirely proper - not a single wrinkle in her impeccable uniform, her face entirely straight and firm as she stared you down with sharp eyes. 

“Yes, Mione-” 

“No, darling. Wrong again.” 

Hermione hauled her hand back, creating another loud wet sound as she hauled her fingers out of your pussy entirely. Harry harshly craned his neck again, and it was only then that it truly occurred to him, between his dizzy head, his cement legs and his hard cock painful against his pelvis, protesting wildly against his zipper, that he could actually move closer to get a better look. With his Cloak guarding him, he would not be seen. 

He tried his best not to rush, not to make too much noise especially as he got closer, and he almost scolded himself when he nearly missed out on it - the wet smack as Hermione brought her hand down between your thighs. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he never would have guessed that she had so boldly laid two rapid spanks right across your swollen, needy clit. Your skirt flipped up out of the way, no panties in sight, and giving her all the room in the world to do so. 

You harshly bit down on your own lip again, worrying the skin to the point where it was swollen and looked like it might even bruise, dampening down harsh cries from deep within your chest. Before Harry could worry that the tears pooling in your eyes had meant that Hermione had truly hurt you, you spread your legs wider and canted your hips more toward her, offering your body up for more. 

And then, you opened your lips again, seemingly to obey whatever implicit command she had given you with the spanks. 

“Yes, Mistress.” You choked out, putting stress on the title, as if correcting your earlier self. “Yes, I understand.” 

“Good girl.” Hermione replied, more breath this time as she used your tie to pull you into a heated kiss, and then shoved three firm fingers back into your waiting, leaking cunt. 

Harry’s head was spinning. 

He had never seen anything more beautiful and erotic in his life (not even when Fred and George had shown him and Ron those Wonder Witch magazines - no, this was much hotter and more perfect because it was so real). 

His mind was spinning with a unique kind of jealousy, something that told him that he was sure if he wanted to steal you away from Hermione because he thought he could - because he now knew all of your sexual preferences and he would use that information to play you, to do everything she was doing to you and more. He would make you the perfect horny little puppet on his painful, throbbing cock (he gave himself another squeeze through his trousers, suppressing a moan of his own). He would have you calling him ‘Sir’ and begging for his cock in no time, because you needed it - you needed to have your holes filled and you would fucking love it. 

Or if he wanted Hermione playing him like this - tugging on his hair, guiding him around by his tie like he was nothing more than a wretched dog, needing to be tamed. Wanted her using that bossy voice of hers to give him completely different kinds of orders - forcing him onto his knees to eat her cunt until she was satisfied, and - knowing her - she never would be. 

Harry’s mind flashed with an image of him on his knees before you, his head so perfectly framed by your plush thighs, with Hermione behind him, barking orders in his ear, a tight grip on his hair as she shoved him tighter into your perfect, messy, wet pussy. He decided that was it - that was exactly what he wanted. That would be the vision that haunted his dreams from now on. 

It was something that had him leaking enough precum to stain through to the outside of his pants, especially by the time your voice warbled out brokenly against Hermione’s chin, your thighs starting to shake, and Harry was sure that he would get the treat of seeing you cum on her fingers. 

He was sorely disappointed by what happened next. 

Hermione pulled back from you completely, creating another deadly wet sound as she pulled her fingers from your cunt once again - something that was almost drowned out by the pitched, disappointed whine that you let out. 

“Mione-!” You complained sharply, the nickname almost coming out as a sob from the back of your throat. 

You sat frozen on the edge of the desk, your legs spread wide as you stared Hermione down with glassy, disappointed eyes while she stepped back and grabbed a handkerchief from her bag that was sitting on a table opposite and used it to wipe off her glistening fingers. 

Harry rushed to get a better look at your cunt before you closed your legs, and Merlin - it was magnificent. Swollen and puffed from Hermione’s efforts, coated in your wetness, your clit stuck out from the hood and standing at attention, so damn needy, begging to be touched, your hole slightly gaped from where Hermione’s fingers had been. 

(Harry couldn’t help but to imagine how stretched you would be left by the thickness of his cock, how good you would look leaking with his cum…) 

“What did you expect?” Hermione said sharply, the edge of a sarcastic laugh on her voice. She was firm, not giving in to the pout that you were giving her. 

“You’ve been bratting up all day - I could have excused you flirting with Malfoy all through potions class-” She continued. 

Harry had noticed that too. He had simply thought that Malfoy would be your next conquest, not a simple flirtation to get on Hermione’s nerves. 

“If not for the fact that you didn’t finish any of your homework and you then decided to distract me from doing mine all afternoon.” 

Of course. Hermione doling out sexual punishments for not doing homework. 

Some things are just nature. 

Though, Harry knew, if there was one thing that would motivate him to do his essays - it would be the idea of getting to cum. 

“Of course you don’t get to cum, you stupid whore.” Hermione said these words how she said many things - as a final, finite declaration that was law. 

Hearing her speak such filthy words in such an authoritative (and nearly emotionless) voice almost caused Harry to cum in his pants on the spot. Almost. 

You let out a sigh of defeat and finally closed your legs, hopping off the desk and pulling down your skirt. Obviously, you hadn’t been wearing panties at all that day (which was another thought that would haunt Harry’s wet dreams) because you made no move to find a pair and put them back on. Instead, you simply turned around and gathered some of your books that were farther back on the desk. 

“How long?” You asked Hermione tentatively, glancing over your shoulder at her. 

Perhaps meaning - how long would she be angry with you? How long until she would finally allow you to cum? 

Harry’s stomach lurched - he imagined himself finding you in the hallway and pinning you against the wall, flipping up your skirt and finding your still wet, bare cunt, teasing you with his fingers and promising to give you everything that you needed as long as you surrendered yourself to him. He would let you cum - he would make you cum so many times that you would cry and beg for him to stop. And he would leave you tired, satisfied and gaped with his cum dripping from all your pretty holes. 

Perhaps it would be rude and underhanded to go after you simply based on a void that Hermione had left in you - but Harry was still feeling a bit of a petty sting from their argument the night before. 

Hermione stepped toward you again - careful, calculated, like a predator observing its prey. She put her hands on either side of your waist, and leaned forward to whisper something in your ear that Harry barely caught. 

“For as long as I want, naughty girl.” She told you. “You’ll take what you get, and you’ll like it, you understand me?” 

“Yes, Mistress.” You sighed loyally in return. Though your face was knit with a unique displeasure - clearly, you were still aching to cum. 

“And if I think for a moment that you have been touching your little whore cunt without my permission, I will spank you until every single person in Hogwarts hears you scream my name - understood?” 

She topped this off with a sharp spank across your ass, using her free hand to hold the fabric of your skirt out of the way to make sure it was nothing but free, burning, skin on skin. You sucked in a sharp breath, and began nodding furiously. 

“Yes, Mistress.” 

“Good.” Hermione told you. “Now, off to bed.” 

You began to walk off, but you hesitantly looked back over your shoulder, as if waiting for her to follow. 

“I’ll be along in a few minutes. I have to sort out some more books for tomorrow. Since I now have so much to catch up on.” She added the last part with a bit of snark, and you rolled your eyes, turning around and walking. 

Unfortunately, you abruptly headed in Harry’s direction and his stomach tightly clenched - he moved to press himself tightly into the bookcase, praying that you wouldn’t bump into him. 

Perhaps you felt him move, or you simply felt something… off, but you paused for a moment, and stared harshly at the space where Harry was standing. His heart began to beat hard inside of his throat, and he wondered how fast he would be able to run with his cock so uncomfortably stiff inside of his pants. You kept staring, as though you were expecting something to materialise out of thin air. 

“Y/N, go.” Hermione snapped. “Go on, it’s almost curfew.” 

“Yes, Miss Prefect, I’m going.” You sighed sarcastically in return, and walked off. 

Harry had a hard time not loudly gulping in air - not realising how harshly he had been holding his breath. 

He stayed there for a few more minutes and continued to watch Hermione. 

Jarringly, she was still so much of the usual Hermione. She was still absolutely someone that he knew so well, despite the secret sex persona that she had been hiding. Still biting at the skin around her nails as she concentrated on a thought, still fussing over which books to take, and still leaving the library with more of an armful than she could comfortably carry. Still somehow forgetting that she could just use magic to lug all the books to the Gryffindor common room instead of tiring out her arms - and Harry only fitfully realised now that this was only half her arm workout, and fucking your cunt raw must have been the other half. 

The whole time he stood there, Harry had considered revealing himself to her. 

He thought about begging to be let in on what the two of you had, even if he had to do something horrible to earn it first, to be worthy in her eyes - something like licking her shoes or wanking in front of her just to be ‘even’. But he knew that she would see the spying (even if unintentional) as a violation of trust, as something too creepy to be redeemed. She would probably hex him to hell and back, make him grow boils that would break open and bleed and never properly heal for the rest of his life - just for thinking about spying on her like that. 

So Harry knew that he had to keep this whole thing a secret, keep it close to his chest. He could never, ever speak about it to anyone. 

Harry forgot all about the book he had wanted. And, instead of going back to the Gryffindor common room behind Hermione, he took his aching cock to the Prefect’s Bathroom in an attempt to clear his mind. After making himself cum not once, but three different times, he finally settled into the hot water for a nice, long soak. He thought about it, and he realised that he was properly fucked - because he would never be able to look at you or Hermione in the same way again.

...

A/N: This is a oneshot, and at this current time, there is not going to be a continuation or a 'Part 2'. I might be open to writing a second part to this, but I don't have any current plans to do so and right now, it is not on my schedule. For now, if you are going to leave a comment on this fic, please leave a comment about the body of work that has been written instead of asking for more. If you want to see more Harry Potter fics that I have written, definitely check out my Harry Potter masterlist.

[nicosaysnope]

i do find it very interesting how different the foxes and the trojans go about caring for and supporting each other. well, actually, i mostly find it interesting how differently people seem to feel about it, especially in regards to kevin's drinking problem.

the way kevin's clearly unhealthy relationship with alcohol doesn't get condemned or fixed in the original trilogy for example is something that many people in the fandom have been pretty upset and critical about for many years and jean's reaction to it seemed to have really moved people (though that in particular, imo, had at least as much to do with jean's very restricted and in itself unhealthy relationship to food and drinks as with him uniquely seeing and caring about kevin's substance abuse issues. like, yeah, he really, really cares about him, but i don't think he'd have been thaaat much less upset if kevin was coping by eating chips or something. but well, whatever).

but to me, that never really read as no one caring about kevin or thinking alcohol is the ideal way for him to regulate his emotions.

the whole premise of how wymack runs the foxes and how they treat each other is just very built around the idea that all these people have been through awful things and that the way they'll cope with that won't always be pretty. but as long as they cope at all, they'll be around for another day, and another, which'll buy them to actually get better.

which is how you get stuff like wymack, in good conscience, not only tolerating but at times even soliciting underage drinking. and looking past the harder drugs some of the team are doing. and it's how him and the team all accept that neil is definitely lying about pretty much everything but mostly just leave him be. and how they all agreed to let andrew get off his legally mandated medication during games even though that could have terrible consequences for all of them. and how matt's mom said "sure random eighteen year old calling me on the phone, do give my addict son speedballs, you seem to have a higher success rate at getting teenagers clean than me 👍" because they all view life less as you're either doing good or you doing bad, and more as you're either surviving whatever it takes to do so, or you don't, so who cares if you aren't coping in healthy or acceptable ways, as long as you are coping. (and then once they're ready to work on getting better, they do have a support system in place to help them get there)

meanwhile the trojans are mostly pretty normal and well adjusted, so they have a pretty clear idea of what a healthy person who's doing well looks like, and that's what they generally want for other people, especially those they care about. so when they see someone who's not doing well and not dealing with it in healthy ways they are very direct about it, sort of a "your behaviour is not healthy, stop doing it" thing. your eating habits are really restrictive? try eating different food anyways, it's really good, i prommy. you hurt yourself when you're upset? here's how to physically stop this from hurting. you get incredibly startled when you're touched unexpectedly? well, just let me try hugging you again. you drink to deal with your feelings? please don't, it's not good for you.

and obviously that's a lot more normal and straight forward than what the foxes are doing, and it's done with love and support. and a lot of fans find it very moving and beautiful and sweet. but i also know that i'm not the only person who was really put off by this and still finds it kinda disconcerting. to me it feels, especially in contrast to the foxes, who would largely find this sooo overbearing and rude and uncomfortable, kinda like strongarming someone into doing well, with (at least in the context of these specific books) shockingly little regard for personal boundaries.

my point isn't that one's better than the other or anything, i think both approaches are going to work differently well for different people and within the books it makes perfect sense why the different teams would act this way, and it's also perfectly understandable why some people really resonate with one approach and find the other irritating or unkind. it's simply some thoughts that have been rattling around in my head. building up to: nothing really. oh well

[solannn]

Hi!! Can I request a male! reader x boten Where the reader is a waiter at their favorite restraint for gangs/mafia whatever and Mikey takes a liking to him but they find out he’s only doing the job because he’s a single father, and they want to keep him (not super good with translating my ideas sorry)- 🦇 anon

ᥫ᭡ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⤷ male reader and single father of a child named “Myrei”, she is kind, and love her father.

[Name] saw a potentially dangerous man enter the bar, with his gang members, he assumed. It was the first time they had visited the large and incredibly beautiful bar where he had worked here for several years. The boy's men probably hide a weapon in their pockets if there's a problem, most of the gangs do this, and sometimes it's just that he has a shootout because of a quarrel started by a drunk man who ends up dead. the end. [Name] thought their boss was the man with short white hair, he was short but his appearance could be deceiving, but they could also be wrong about him being a boss.

The waiter tried to concentrate on his customers, but the imposing aura of the armed men scared him. He was used to this kind of situation, but he felt like he'd seen it somewhere on his television late at night. After wondering their name its suddenly came to mind, Bonten, something like that. They were one of the most dangerous organizations in Japan, inviting prostitutes and killing them after having pleasuring time them, cruelty towards others human being, and much more. For them it was like a hobby that entertained them, but [Name] hated that kind of person. So, to protect his life he decided not to say too much that could cause a general fight.

He wanted to avoid them at all costs before his manager told him that these men were men who deserved lust and merit to flatter their immense egos, so he asked him to serve them drinks, food, and everything what they wished they had. [Name] was flattered that his presence was lustful, but he was also uncomfortable talking to them but his manager comforted him by putting his hand on his shoulder telling him. "I know how you feel, but unfortunately you are the only one qualified to talk to people at such levels." [Name] sighed, he puffed out his chest a little and thanked his comrade who had just comforted him. He walked towards the table of men, they were all different from each other, one seemed drugged to the point of stupidity, one depressed, one who was probably arrogant, one with a neutral expression and others.

“Hello gentlemen, what can we offer you today.” He asked them and made his famous smile known by his comrades or the customers who came each time. He tried to appear friendly, and pretended to be pure and innocent, he wanted them to have pity for him but they probably didn't have any, but he still tried to seduce them. He waited for their answers for a few seconds before a man with long, white hair asked him. “what is boeuf bourgignon?” he pronounced the word wrong, but with a smile [Name] answered him. "boeuf bourguignon is a dish of beef braised in red wine, and served with a garnish of pearl onions, mushrooms and bacon. It is one of the most popular dishes in France made by a French-Japanese chef." he replied, detailing the appearance of the meat and its garnish. the man nodded and said "I'll take that then." he grinned back, [Name] noted as he took out a paper and a style from his pocket to wrote it.

“I would like a dorayaki.” No, it wasn't a request but an order, he could tell the difference between that. It was simple to distinguish, he kept a smile and wrote his order. After taking their orders one added. “Get me some wine, one of the best from here.” [Name] scratched his neck, and nodded. “of course sir, everything will be in order.” he addressed them before leaving towards the restaurant counter. "Hey Boss, I'm not feeling this place. I'm not having fun." He stretched while taking another drug, to relax. "Their boss didn't say anything, he was just hungry. He glanced to his left, and saw the waiter talking on the phone with someone. He had a smile soft, and not forced when in front of him.

“Kokonoi.” He called one of his members coldly. The boy became tense, he looked at his boss and said. “Yes, sir?” Who is this waiter we saw a few minutes ago? "mhm, I think his name is [Name] Bonavich, he is 27 years old, he has been working in a bar, restaurant for a few years so that his daughter has a good education and other things. He is a single father we will say." he tells Mikey, his boss, the boy's information. Before coming here, he looked for data on the people working in this popular place.

the waiter came towards them again after about thirty minutes of discussion with their meal in hand. Their dish was quite heavy to bear but he pretended it wasn't and placed their meal on the table. “Enjoy your appetite, sir.” He smiled but before leaving, the person who wanted to avoid everything grabbed his arm to say something to him. Their members were surprised by Mikey's sudden gesture, maybe he had a deal with him and was going to kill him. [Name] stressed a little, praying that he wouldn't ask anything strange like being his prostitute or something. “Yes?” he cleared his throat at the same time.

“after i eat you will come in my car, you will be my own waiter for bonten only.” The boy with dark circles under his eyes ordered him shut, without any expression on his face. "oh! ohm..of course." His day was ruined, his daughter was probably waiting for him at home and maybe she wanted to play before going to sleep. He walked towards the bar counter and went into the break room where his friends and his manager were. "people! I'm a dead man!" He whispered, carrying his voice a little so he could hear it. “ehh why.” a girl with extravagant makeup that stood out from the criteria of the Japanese beauty standard stated it was gyaru makeup. She dyed her hair red, to stand out even more. "what are you doing darling? probably isn’t someone as coolish as me ihh" she spoke mockingly not taking the situation to heart. “Shut up Ameyru! Let him talk.” An androgynous boy told her to shut up, she did but she rolled her eyes. "you see the Bonten, they are here and their boss asked me to become their personal waiter--" Ameyru laughed.

"lol! wait what! kyaaaa... these guys are creepy if you don't do your right job you're ekkkkk" at the end of her sentence she made the zombie noise, and with her thumb she pretended to slit her throat. The manager was shocked at the revelation and didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do about it," he felt unable to say another word. The androgynous boy next to him put his hand on his shoulder. "Kyoru.." he whispered, making him smile a little. Ameryu stopped laughing and took it seriously. "I'm sorry too, yikes! they are the most horrendous human ya know.." she said, knowing that if he left, she would miss him immensely. "wahhh!!! it's horrible.!" she said running towards her friend and grabbed him with a hug

"I'm sad, super. Hey Ryuba you will console me right." the haired boy nodded. "I'll try if you don't break my mind," he sighed and rushed to hug his friend, Kyoru joined them too. "mhh, and to think that you've been here for 9 years, we could have reached 10 years of anniversary of you working here.. “awhh guys." [Name] was touched by their words almost having tears in his eyes. when he was released from the hug, he greeted them, perhaps for the last time and left. "Ameyru is depressed.." tears ran down her puffy cheek "ugh.."

When he returned to the room where the gang was he saw blood on the floor. Someone was eliminated, but he had not heard the sound of a gun, perhaps a knife murder. The man was a customer who was probably drunk, he walked over and noticed that Bonten had finished eating. Mikey waited patiently for the boy, he walked towards the leader without saying a word.

He left the restaurant, letting himself go for fear of dying. One of the members opened the door for him, and he stepped inside and sighed. He moved to the back of the car, and the others got in. They were almost all crammed in, but the car was wide enough to fit a little. Stressed out by this long, boring moment while the driver drove the car, he needed something to sink his teeth into. He wanted to take his cigarette but unfortunately he'd left it on the counter.

He left the restaurant, letting himself go for fear of dying. One of the members opened the door for him, and he stepped inside and sighed. He moved to the back of the car, and the others got in. They were almost all crammed in, but the car was wide enough to fit a little. Stressed out by this long, boring moment while the driver drove the car, he needed something to sink his teeth into. He wanted to take his cigarette but unfortunately he'd left it on the counter.

It was a long trip, and [name] was worried because he recognized the road he was driving on his way home. The driver stopped in front of his destination, his apartment building. His heart stopped and his eyes widened as he wondered what would happen to his child. One of the members got out of the car and went to the apartment. [Name] started to speak, but a man put a gun to his head. "He said, "If you dare say anything, I'll shoot you in the face.”He threatened to shoot him, but he quickly shut up. In the back of his mind, he sighed so as not to draw attention to himself. The minutes were long, very long, he felt as if they had stopped an hour ago. He looked out the window to his left, watching the people passing by, afraid of the car. Probably wondering if they were going to die too.

A few minutes passed and the tension grew. When one of the members returned, he had a sleeping child in his arms. He walked around the car to the left door, opened it, and handed [name] his child. He took her under his shoulders and put her on his lap. He rested his head on her chest, but a question lingered in the back of his mind: did he kill the babysitter he'd hired years ago, or was he showing compassion? Preferring not to answer, he stroked his child's head with a faint smile.

His child was sleeping peacefully, as if someone had rocked him to sleep. This made [Name] happy, but he didn't want to show it to a gang, so he decided to save his smile for his daughter. He looked in the rearview mirror and saw the dejected look on the boss's face, so he quickly looked away, not wanting to see his expression. The gang began to talk among themselves, fed up with the tension caused by Mikey's pressure. The little man said nothing, remaining completely silent.

He felt a sudden urge to sleep. His eyelids grew heavy with each blink, and he put his hand over his mouth and yawned. He told himself it was late, 23 in his opinion. At 11 p.m., the lights went out in the small town and he could see people enjoying themselves with their friends. He sighed one last time, clutched his child, and fell asleep, unable to help himself.

──────

He woke up suddenly, his eyes wide open. "Is this a nightmare?" he asked himself, but no. The place he was in wasn't his home; it was too big for a one-person room. The room was almost as big as his apartment. "They're filthy rich...after all, they're a mafia..." he muttered and looked around, not seeing his child. He stood up and rushed to the door. He opened it abruptly and left the room, nothing as he stepped out onto a wide red carpeted staircase. He also had a view of the living room. "..." he didn't know what to say, amazed at the size of this mansion. He heard a child's playful cry at the bottom of the stairs. Running up and down the stairs as if his life depended on it, he looked to his left and saw Myrei, her child playing with one of the members? He wasn't sure if it was a babysitter, but it had a remarkable tattoo. He walked towards them, his daughter smiling as she saw him approach. "Daddy!!!" She couldn't help but scream.

She was so overly excited that she gave her trust to the person in front of him. A man with black hair and a huge scar on his face, [Name], glared at him while carrying his child. "I assure you, I'm not here to hurt anyone on behalf of the boss." He was admitting the truth, their boss? No, he wasn't dreaming, and he didn't seem to be lying. [Name] sighed and let go of Myrei. "Oh dad, no need to worry, he's super super nice the Mr.!!! The others were cool with their shots too!!!" Myrei was only 6 years old, she didn't know what she was saying, she was just a child and she was being manipulated. Negative thoughts invaded his mind and lowered his impressions of the Mafia, even if they were already low enough.

After a brief discussion between the two adults, [Name] felt an icy hand on his shoulder and arched his back at the sensation. He was about to say something insulting, but he stopped himself and turned his head to see Mikey, the boy with short white hair. "I put your clothes that were at home in the closet and the uniform is on your bed, if you've seen it." He said his coldly, showing no mercy, but deep inside he was interested in him without realizing it. “Oh okay.. I’ll prepare myself than.”

──────

After getting ready in the bedroom, the boss waited patiently outside his door. He gasped slightly and bowed in respect. Mikey told him there was no point in bowing and asked him to follow him to his office. He followed with a fake smile on his lips. When they entered the room, Mikey sat down on a rather large and comfortable chair. While [Name] sat on a chair probably made of rusty metal because it creaked. Mikey handed him a piece of paper that showed how much he would be charged. [Name] looked at it for a moment before taking it and reading it. He was shocked, the amount was huge, he could live luxuriously on it every month. The man in the black t-shirt and pants didn't know what to say, but he appreciated [Name]'s smile, it reminded him of someone so close to him. He pushed his memories away, trying not to connect the past with the present.

"I like your genuine smile." Mikey stated it bluntly. [Name] stopped celebrating the money in his head and tilted his head, surprised by the remark. Had he been smiling? He hadn't even noticed. "Oh, thank you!" He smiled even more, a pink blush appearing on his cheek, he didn't know why he was blushing because he should be used to this kind of compliment, but coming from him, it felt strange.

[sapphicmsmarvel]

Azriel: put that thing back where it came from or so help me!

Smutty. sweet. kinda crack? idk y/n deals with this shit in a joking way bc she might have a breakdown otherwise. 

notes: i’m going to use the modern terms for sex toys. It’s just easier than finding some woohoo fantasy term for it. 

Also, i am not at all experienced in this department so sorry if it aint good. i’m going off gut feelings here folks.  Again, im sorry if this is poorly written smut 😭 however i really like this one!!

kinks: sex toys, masturbation, virginity/slight innocence kink, oral (coochie receiving is what is described) (penis receiving mentioned), fingering, panty-sniffing, probably incorrect knowledge about sex bc i am inexperienced lmfao (I sold dildos for three years tho so that shit i know about) 

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

The talk. 

You were apprehensive about having Azriels dick inside of you. Which he understood. 

He knew you didn’t even like penetration from toys. 

The first time you two had a conversation about sex you made a joke to him that you were “broken” which he did not like. 

“Why would you say that, love?” He asked next to you on your couch. 

“I’m not a fan of things going inside of me. I can give you a mean blowjob though.” You winked. Trying to play off your insecurity. 

He sat up straighter. “Why would I call you broken for that?” 

You shrugged. “Others have. I just get ahead of it now. I’d understand if-“

“No.” He said passionately. “No. This doesn’t change anything.”

You cocked your head, your heart beating too fast in your ears. He continued. “The only people who call you that, are people who have no idea how to pleasure a woman in general. Without their cock or with.” He hissed.  

If anything, he was most excited to eat you out. But if you didn’t want it, you didn’t want it. 

“Even if you didn’t want to kiss me. I wouldn’t leave.” He shook his head, as if the idea of him leaving you was foolish to even think. It was foolish to him anyway. 

“Lucky for you I'm kinda obsessed with kissing you.” You let out a thick laugh, your sinuses already clogged from the idea of crying and holding it in. Your eyes were watery. 

Well, he knew that was true. You sometimes got cuteness aggression with him and would just squish his cheeks and give him kisses repeatedly. And also kissing whatever body part of his you could reach, his back, his thigh, one time it was his pinkie. 

He’s never been loved so openly. 

He scooched closer to you, wanting to hold you. He opened his arms and you crawled in. “Anything you give me, even your time, I am lucky.” He said kissing your forehead as one tear slipped out. “We go at your speed. You want me to eat you out tonight? Done. Suck your tits? Done. Just kiss? Easy. Just hold hands? Perfect.” 

“So if I said I wanted to play with your ass, you’d say yes?” You asked from his chest. 

“…That one you might have to give me time for.” He admitted, sheepishly. You laughed, the sound alone making Azriel smile. 

“We go at your speed, baby. All that matters to me is that I make you happy.”

“The happiest.” You sniffed and burrowed your way into Azriels chest. You didn’t really want him to see you cry but, you trusted him enough to be near you anyway when you cried. 

He kissed the top of your head. In response you kissed his pec through his shirt. 

Anything you wanted you got. 

Master in pussy-eating and fingering. 

After that, you felt more comfortable. You never felt uncomfortable, but you were scared to tell Az about your dislike for penetration. But, he took it easier than any other partner you had. 

Of course he did, the man acted like he was written by a woman. (wink) 

But this meant you had to ask every time you wanted something sexual. You had been having fantasies lately. You wanted him to eat you out. Bad. 

“Hey Azzie.” You said sweetly from the top of your bed, he was at the end of your bed putting his book back in his bag. 

He turned and rolled his eyes, “what?” He asked, smiling. Wondering what food you were about to beg him to make you. 

“I kinda want you to do something for me.” You wiggled your legs. 

He snorted. “No kidding.” 

“I think you’ll like my idea.” 

“If it’s not us canceling dinner with Rhys and Fey tomorrow night to stay in and snuggle then I probably won’t.” He crawled over to you and over you. 

“Mmmm I don’t know about that.” You drawled.

He leaned over you, your noses just barely touching. “What is it, Y/N?” 

You tried not to let the blush on your cheeks deter you from asking, from being bold and asking him for something that he already told you he’d be down for. 

You sighed, slowly hyping yourself up. “I want you to eat me out.” 

A grin slowly spread across his face. “That is what you were delaying asking me?” 

You whined. “It’s hard to ask for things.” 

“Why?“You want me to do it now?” He asked, “I absolutely will do that but I want you sure.” 

You nodded, “but…”

“But…?” He prompted. 

“I didn’t wax.” You played with the sleeves of the shirt you were wearing, which was Azriel’s. 

He let out an uncharacteristic snort. “I don’t care about that. It’s freaky when a pussy is bald.” 

You were no delicate flower, but hearing those words come out of Azriel’s mouth, it was…hot. 

So fucking hot. 

He grinned like he knew where your mind went. “You like dirty talk?” 

“Mhm.” You tried to hide away from his gaze. 

“Oh no.” he fully smiled, cheeky dimples on full display, “I think my sweetheart loves it.” He leaned forward and kissed your cheek. His stubble slightly rubbing against your soft face. 

My sweetheart. 

“Our safe word is ‘red’ okay?” 

You had never even thought about a safe word, but your chest warmed at his awareness. “Okay.” 

He gave you a searing kiss which had you sighing contentedly, 

He pulled away from you and stood up, you made a cry of indignation that quickly turned to a noise of confusion as he grabbed your legs and pulled you to the end of the bed quickly. Your feet were touching the floor, but your back was flat on the bed. 

“Pass me a pillow, love.” 

You handed him a fluffy one and he put it on the floor. Your face burned as he kneeled on the pillow, you wanted to tease him for being an old man, but he caught your teasing eye and went, “I’m about to eat your pussy like a God, I deserve a throne.” 

“So what does that make me?” You whispered. 

“My alter.” His fingers hooked under the waistband of your leggings, pulling them down your soft legs that he wanted wrapped around his hips while his cock bruised your cervix. 

Only when you asked for it rough after he fucked you slowly with his tongue. 

Your leggings got stuck around your ankles, while he focused on taking them off your ankles, but kept your fuzzy socks on because he knew your feet get cold easily (he had them pressed up against his warm legs enough to be scarred from them), he pressed soft kisses into your calf. 

He kissed his way up your thighs, you had lost count of how many times his lips seared your skin, he brushed over your mound. His lips brushing over you, skin tingling and your pussy aching for more. 

You whined as he hooked his fingers underneath your panties and brought them down your legs. As he held the rumpled pair in his hand he was staring at your glistening folds. 

You were about to close your legs, feeling embarrassed, but he took your soaked panties and sniffed them. Hard. 

His eyes rolled back into his head and he shoved them into his pocket. 

“Sorry love, I’ve just been dreaming about this.” 

“Sorry.” You felt a tad guilty you made him wait. You could feel your blush everywhere. You didn’t even know if your legs could blush but they felt like they were. 

In response, he slapped your cunt. You jumped and squeaked. “No apologies.” He scolded. “Or else, I’ll punish you with those slaps.” You bit your lip, “I mean I don’t know if that was supposed to be punishing or not.” You muttered. 

He grinned like the devil, the devil on his knees before his angel. 

The slap had sent a delicious feeling across your entire body. You wanted him to smack your pussy till it was red and throbbing. 

He spread your lips and blew gently on your clit, causing your legs to twitch. He leaned in and did a gentle swipe up your inner labia and ended at your clit. He sucked the nub into his mouth, his lips capturing it. 

You let out a loud moan. “Fuck.” You whimpered, you had never had anybody there. 

“You’re so responsive.” He pulled away and wiped his thumb over your clit. The roughness causing you to jerk. 

“Nobody’s ever been down there.” Your voice was incredibly breathy. 

“Seriously?” 

Your head shot up. “Well usually, when I'd tell someone they couldn’t shove their dick in my vagina, they lost interest.” You snapped. You just wanted his mouth back where it belonged. 

“So mouthy.”

“Yeah, put yours to good use, why don’t you.” You tilted your shin up. 

He slapped your pussy again. You moaned. 

“Such a fucking brat. Can’t wait to see more of that side of you.” 

Then he started french kissing your pussy. 

Sloppy. Fast. Intense. But you never wanted the ecstasy to end. You threw your head back, lost in the sensation and let out a loud guttural moan. Your sound caused him to give a hum of approval which spurred your orgasm quicker than you expected. 

“Oh God, I'm there.” Was the only warning he had as your muscle gushed and spasmed around his tongue. 

After he efficiently cleaned your orgasm up, he groaned in ecstasy. “You taste so fucking good. Better than my dreams.”

You caught your breath, your belly moving up and down as your muscles stopped constricting. 

“Can you…” You panted. 

“Can I do what, princess?” He mumbled as he kissed your mound, which made your body twitch because of the oversensitivity. No part of your skin went untouched. 

“Can you fuck me with your fingers please?” 

His head shot up, “are you sure?” He dragged his fingers between your folds. You twitched again at the oversensitivity. “You’re pretty sensitive.” 

“It feels good.” You whined. You’d be embarrassed about it later even though Azriels cock hardens even more at each sound. 

He massaged your folds, “You tell me when to stop.” You nodded. “Please Az.” 

He ever so gently prodded your puffy hole, then gently, as gently as possible, he inserted a finger. 

The stretch of his finger was a delicious type of pain. You compared it to piercings. It excites you. Then you felt relief that you liked his finger. 

Maybe you’d like his dick. But go slowly, he always encouraged that because if you jumped in and didn’t like something, that brought fear back. 

He fingered you slowly, allowing you to control the speed with the way you grinded into his hand. Your moans loud. Your cunt squeezing his fingers in a way that had him wanting to stuff his cock into your cunt, but he wasn’t going to until you were positive that was what you wanted. 

He was enamored by the way your cunt sucked his fingers in greedily. 

You felt a foreign feeling in your belly. Like an orgasm just more intense. This orgasm came without warning and you didn’t want it to end. 

“You can have orgasms back to back.” Was the sentence that knocked you out of your stupor. 

“What.” Your brain was fuzzy. But delightfully warm, fuzzy and cozy. 

“You, my love, are able to have multiple orgasms in a short amount of time.” 

“Good to know.” Was all you said as you fully allowed your body to melt into the mattress. 

Fuck me. 

Since then, you had been asking Azriel to eat you out constantly. Almost every day. You gave him that mind-blowing head you told him about. 

You two have found that toys are a good stimulus for non-penetrative sex. You jerked him off with a pocket pussy from behind him. Dirty talking in his ear. 

However now, you wanted him to fuck you so hard. 

Six months since you two talked about your comfort levels and you were starting to go a little crazy. You hear so many stories about girls being fucked so hard and so good, you’ve been dying for it even. 

“Baby I want your dick inside me.” You said from the bedroom. 

“Question, do you get off on asking me this shit out of the blue?” He walked out from the hallway. 

You shrugged, “you made this a safe space, it’s your fault.” 

He snorted. “Are you being serious?” 

You nodded, “I wouldn't joke about this.” 

He smiled softly, he walked up to you and put his hands on your hips. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You exclaimed with no hesitation. 

“Baby, I really want you to think-“

“Oh my Gods yes! I want your massive dick inside me!” You pouted. 

His lips twitched at your phrasing. He loved you so dearly. “Okay.” He reassured. 

He smiled sweetly, “Now?” He didn’t want to admit how eager he was. 

You looked surprised. “Now?” 

He shrugged, “if you want. Or we can wait until later. Give me like an hour to get food and flowers?”

You waved him off, “I don’t need all that. I just…”

“What, baby?” He stroked your hip. “Nothin I haven’t seen before.” 

“I haven't waxed.” You murmured. 

“What did I tell you before?” He smiled, reassuringly. 

“That you didn’t care.” You mumbled. “And I stand by it.” 

“I trimmed at least.” You let out an insecure chuckle. 

“I wouldn’t care if you didn’t.” He pulled you into him, his hands sneaking down to your ass and squeezing you to him. He kissed your neck, causing you to gasp. He pushed you against the edge of your bed, pushing you down into the fluffy comforter and crawling over you. He kissed down the cleavage of your tank top. 

He tugged at the bottom of it, “can I take this off?” 

“Please.” You whined. You lifted your back and arms and he shucked the shirt and bra off. 

He palmed your breasts, his skin rough against your soft peaks. He tweaked your nipples between his fingers and you whined again as sparks shot straight to your clit. 

He sucked a nipple into his mouth, your back shot off the bed, “and why haven’t we done that before?” You groaned. 

He popped your tit out of his mouth. “Oh you have no idea about the things we haven’t done yet. And what pleasure I can bring you.” 

Your skin tingled at the promise and arousing threat in his voice.  

As he continued to make love to your tits, he was taking off your pajama pants and underwear. His fingers swiped through your folds, spreading your slickness across your skin and slowly massaging you to warm you up. 

“Please, I need you.” You begged. 

“Baby, I haven’t prepped you.” He came off your chest and began kissing down your stomach.

“I don’t care.” You whined some more. “I just want you inside me please.” 

He took his gray sweats off, causing you to see the beast in his pants bob around. 

You swallowed at the sheer size of him. Obviously, you knew what his dick looked like as you’ve sucked his soul out before. However, right now you were thinking about how that massive thing is going to fit inside you. 

You allowed a moment of mourning for your cunt. 

Oh girl, I’m praying for you. 

You were eager for him to fuck you but also kind of nervous. He saw the look of anxiety on your face, “hey, we stop whenever you want. We can stop right now.” 

You swallowed. “Okay.” 

“What’s the safe word baby?” 

“Red.” You said. 

“Good girl.” He rasped. 

Your mouth was watering, you didn’t know your mouth could water over a penis but goddamn Azriel was made from gods personal clay, into the perfect man in front of you. 

He lifted your legs gently, resting his knees against the end of your bed so he can thoroughly fuck you to your hearts content. 

He gently entered you, “breathe baby.” He coaxed the breaths out of you by putting his hand on your tummy, then putting yours on his to match to his breathing. 

Tears pricked your eyes as he slowly entered into your beautiful cunt. It stung, of course it did. But Gods, it was a good pain. A satisfying stretch that stung slightly. But quickly morphed into pleasure worthy of sonnets. 

“You okay?” 

You nodded as a tear went down your flushed cheeks. “It feels so good.” 

“Gods.” He croaked. “Your pussy was made for me. Fucking sculpted by the Gods, just f’me.” 

“Deeper please.” You whispered oh so sweetly. 

He croaked out a laugh. “You’re so polite. So sweet. My good girl.” He kissed your tears on your cheeks as he swiftly moved his hips, urging his cock deeper inside you, hitting spots you weren’t even aware existed. 

You moaned, not even caring about your volume. All of your senses were in overdrive. The sweat pressed between your bodies, the swell of his pecs against your tits. His pelvis sitting so snuggly, so perfectly, against your cunt.

He felt a new addiction churning inside him. The addiction to your nails scraping down his back, the addiction of his hips snapping into yours and the warmth of your walls. 

“I’m not gonna last.” You cried. His mushroom tip thrusting into your spongy g-spot. 

“Me neither baby.” He couldn’t wait to paint your walls white, he knew you were on birth control, just as he was. 

Just as your muscles contracted and spasmed around his cock, his come painted your walls white. He practically collapsed ontop of you, only his forearms keeping him from fully laying on you. 

You shook your head, “nuh uh.” 

“Wait what? Are you okay?” He sat up surprised, ready to gently pull out but didn’t want to risk hurting you. 

“I’m fine, but stop using your full strength and lay on me.” You grumbled. Sleepiness taking over. 

“Baby you have to go to the bathroom.” He suppressed a laugh, knowing it would just make you grumpier. 

“Five minutes?” You begged. 

And how could he say no to that? 

Hint: he could and would never say no to you. 

[gds-daisy]

dating namgyu headcanons

warnings: SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT), au outside of the games, implied female reader.

namgyu my man

when you guys first met he made the first move (its literally canon)

you were definitely intimidated by him because of his demeanor in general

he insists on buying you a drink

after getting to know him a bit more that night, you definitely started feeling more comfortable around him

sooner or later he asks you out on a date and doesn’t take no for an answer which you happily laughed at

he said the reason he approached you was because of how carefree you seemed

the first date comes around and it’s safe to say you’re interested in going on another date with him

he accepts your proposal of going on another date

by the third date yall become official

he’s also not one for official titles at first (ex: boyfriend and girlfriend)

this is his first real relationship because let’s admit it he’s a little fuck boy

i feel like it takes time for him to show pda or any sort of physical/verbal love

he’s just not used to it since he has had many situationships before you

you say that it’s no problem and that you’ll be patient with him

it takes him about one or so months before he’s finally comfortable with it

when he’s finally used to it, he showers you with affection

PROVE ME WRONG.

YOU CANT.

the big reason why is because he finds himself so infatuated with you

he didn’t know what that felt like at first but once he realized he was in love with you, there was no going back

the biggest fan of kissing you

he mostly kisses you on your lips, cheeks, forehead, and neck

it took you a while to kiss him because you didn’t wanna rush him while the idea of affection was still so foreign to him

however.

once he finally got on board with you showing affection, he’s a fiend for it but he would never admit it

namgyu loves when you’re all giggly and kiss him

especially on his lips and cheeks

definitely gives off black cat bf vibes

he holds your hand everywhere in public

always makes it a point to slink his arm around your waist to show everyone that you’re his only

namgyu is a fucking simp for you idc

that leads me to my next point

he’s EXTREMELY protective and even a little possessive over you but in an attractive way

if some boy is giving you a hard time, he will step in if things escalate

in some cases, he ends up punching the bastard who was bothering you

it may not seem like it but his other love language is gift giving

sometimes he still struggles with expressing how he feels so he shows his love through gifts

he’s your biggest supporter idc what yall say

if you’re having a rough day, he will lie down next to you and comfort you to the best of his ability

whether it involves watching a cheesy movie or cuddling he’ll do it for you

he’s never had this type of love before so he doesn’t wanna screw it up

all he knows is that he wants a future with you and only you

now for some devious nsfw shit!

oh brother where do i start

this man is a HORN DOG.

he’s a dom through and through

and if there’s an instance where he’s a sub, he’s a rough sub

still a bit pathetic though i mean uh who said that

he’s one kinky fucker

he’s such an asshole during sex sometimes but you love it

this includes bdsm, dacryphilia, somnophilia (with consent ofc!), the whole nine yards

Namgyu is definitely into rougher sex

he makes it a point to switch between degrading and praising you

LOVESSSS cowgirl, doggy style, mating press, and good ol’ missionary

dare i also say dry humping?

yall will literally do it anywhere whether it’s a in a public bathroom, the car, the shower, in the kitchen, etc.

namgyu once asked you if you guys could make a tape that would stay between you guys and you said yes

safe to say he did NOT take it easy on you that night

“tits or ass” everything.

loves fucking your tits

giving = receiving

i said what i said.

he loves leaving trails of hickeys on your body especially where it’s visible

namgyu also LOVES quickies

especially if he’s had a bad day

he’ll come home and start kissing you until yall end up in bed while he fucks the shit out of you

dude he’s such a slut for blowjobs

if you’re not going fast enough, he’ll grab you by the hair and force you to go faster

he’s definitely a groaner and moaner at times and you’ll never let him hear the end of it

he usually does when he feels how tight you are around him or if you’re giving him that sloppy gloppy

he loves going down on you because let’s face it…he’s a munch

he would eat you out like a man starved

loves teasing you when you guys are in public

he’ll occasionally slide his cold hands up your skirt and start rubbing away at the skin

also not shy to slip in a finger or two and watch you try to keep your composure

but if you tease him? game over.

he’ll have you crying on his bed telling you how much of a brat you are

loves being a brat tamer

plays into his breeding kink

his fav place to cum is inside you ofc!!

now listen…

he was NOT good at aftercare whatsoever when you guys had slept together the first time

this was because when he hooked up with random chicks at club pentagon or anywhere else, he usually took off WITHOUT staying the night or providing any sort of aftercare

you brought this up to him because it was important to you

he slowly improved at aftercare which made you feel more content and connected with him

usually runs you a bath or if the two of you are too tired, he lets you lay on his chest until you guys fall asleep

okay that’s it

a/n: i hope you guys enjoyed these headcanons! feel free to leave feedback or give me suggestions whether it’s in the comments or by sending me an ask! :)

[thediaryofaurora]

General HCs

Ticci Toby/Tobias Rogers

Sorry this took so long!! I’ve been contemplating writing one shots, but I feel like I should get the head canons out first. If any of you have any ideas for one shots (x readers, char x char, nsfw), my request box is open! I’ll get around to them as soon as possible. :)

- 5’11! Sleeper build and scrawny, but extremely strong upper arms. He’s not as fast as Kate and Brian, but he makes up for it with how long he can run. He never gets tired and can chase victims for hours. Lots of freckles, too!

- White with mostly German heritage. He doesn’t know very much German, just baseline stuff he learned from his mom. (Connie grew up in Germany until she was 15.)

- Medium brown hair and dark brown eyes. He’s pretty pale, but being outside most of the time he does have a slight tan, lots of freckles too.

- His dad was extremely abusive and would beat him, his mom, and his sister, it was rare for him to not be drunk. Toby killed him only a few hours after his father beat his mom to the point she was unconscious. He’d rather his mom lose both of her children and her abusive husband than endure so much pain, he cared about her more than anything. He didn’t want to sit idly by as he loses his sister and mother.

- His fingers are TORN up. Bites and picks at his nails, cuticles, dry knuckles, all of it. His fingertips and palms are also super calloused.

- Hangs out with Jeff and Ben most of the time. He’s closer to Ben and thinks Jeff’s a douche, but he puts up with him since sometimes the three of them have fun.

- He can be a jerk, but if you’re able to break past his shell he’s super sweet. He’s still sarcastic and snarky, but not necessarily mean. VERY smug.

- Had Jeff do a tattoo of Lyra’s birthday on his shoulder. It turned out surprisingly good. He was originally going to do her death date, but he felt like it was better to honor the time she was alive.

- Halloween junkie. He has a massive sweet tooth and loves autumn, so it’s the perfect day ever in his eyes.

- This guy DESTROYS in poker and blackjack. The few times his dad would spend time with him they’d play together. Even though he hated him, it meant a lot to him when he was little. Has the teeny tiniest gambling addiction, makes a bunch of bets with other residents of the mansion and usually wins.

- MIDWESTERN EMO BOY!!!! I will die on this hill. Music taste, clothing, all of it.

- His tics are pretty rare now that he’s older, but when he’s anxious they get bad.

- Exclusively wears comfortable clothes. Not because he gets uncomfortable, he could (and does) sleep in jeans and not be bothered. When he was younger he would always be forced to wear slacks, dress shoes, button ups, and ties for church or family gatherings. He HATED it.

- Him, Tim, and Brian are usually put on missions together. They’re all pretty compatible, and it’s nice to talk to just some regular ass dudes. Sometimes all three of them will go to run down diner’s if they finished their mission early, it’s the most normality any of them have in their lives.

- He and Tim bicker a LOT, but he secretly find comfort in it. He sees Tim as a protective older brother, rather than someone who just hates him. With how his dad treated him growing up, he thought all arguing was yelling and being aggressive, but Tim’s is more disagreement or annoyance.

- Almost knows how to play the acoustic guitar. He’s a quick learner, but he doesn’t have a crazy strong desire to get better at it.

- Pretty much always wears a big bandaid over his cheek gash. He’s not necessarily insecure about it unless he has a crush on someone, but it’s hard to eat or drink when it’s just open.

- He’s actually not to bad at soccer! Sometimes when it’s nice out him and Cody find a ball and play.

- Anywho, I’m in love with him.

Feedback and requests are welcome! Thank you for reading. :)

✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩

[zzencat]

How To Energetically Get The Most Out Of Your School/Work Life - ⏳

Since we’re getting into the groove of things…let’s gaur!!!! For entertainment purposes.

From left to right. Breathe and choose the one(s) you can't keep your eyes off of.

TO ENHANCE ACCURACY BEFORE CHOOSING: Clear your mind. Time is now patient and still. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill your chest up to the fullest, feel the soft air brush up against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out.

Pile 1 | boomer mentality?

• change your ways. Bad habits, weak ways of thinking- sure, it’s uncomfortable. Growth is uncomfortable. Success is uncomfortable (I’m pretty sure someone super famous said that once maybe someone should remind me- 🤔) . You’ll find that if you look at things from a new perspective, a new angle, it’ll be beneficial for you in the long run. Just like looking at stress in a good way- there are studies on it that show that if you look at stress in a more positive way and use it to your advantage, you could really stretch out your life and live longer than those who were pessimistic about it (lol fun fact for you)

if you let go of the old, your luck will change. embrace these new changes, beliefs, environments, and people.

don’t keep your time and resources to yourself. allow for self reflection and transformations to happen!

big focus: don’t let history repeat itself. it’s time for a change! let go and let in.

—————————

Pile 2 | feeling stuck or stagnant

• pile 2, you tend to overthink everything. You let your mind run its course. That ain’t good news. It prevents you from reaching new heights- prevents you from even starting on something, just because of fear or even roots of perfectionism. There’s a huge lack of motivation, confidence, and trust in yourself- so much that even when I was pulling your cards they were hesitant to come out. it feels like russian roulette but it’s firing on its own. some people here might tend to overreact/throw a tantrum as well or be immature in situations that need sensibility (in this case, ya gotta take this time to mature.)

• I feel this group has trouble with balance in general. Nothing wrong with that on occasion but if that’s your default setting and you’re stuck in your mind all day, wondering about this and that—just a crazy clash of thoughts and ideas—ruminating and running around in a vicious cycle full of mental bullshit then it’s gonna stop you. It’s gonna stop you from growth, from achieving things, from getting started, from living life normally. That’s the bare minimum, isn’t it? All we gotta do is breathe and when life makes it hard, the brain works harder. The mind is truly the most dangerous thing and you have to embrace it, marinate in it, and pick at it. find out where the balance is between intuition, logic, and emotion.

you might feel restricted and the need to break free, but what you also need is a breather to calm down and assess yourself before making decisions. rmr, deep breaths.

•Do your own research, form your own opinions, figure out who you are, how you operate, and what you want in life. That’s how you begin to build character. That’s how you can move forward, even if it’s little by little. (A more stable foundation comes outta that too.)

big focus: practice self control. when they say “lead with your head,” they really mean the control center of logic, intuition, and emotion…but who’s doing more of the controlling here, you or your mind?

——————————

Pile 3 | “how could I miss that?”

• What you need to focus on is slowing down. it’s easy to miss things when we’re busy or taking on a lot of responsibilities. give yourself some love and care—tend to those inner callings. It’s good for your mental health as well. Remember: mental becomes physical.

• put yourself first for once. Connect with yourself and loved ones- go on one of them self dates- Yessir those exist 😳

• pile 3, you are easily the most efficient and speedy group- cards were legit being shuffled like they were being handled like a pro- but you know the con of that? You miss all the moments you could’ve had with friends, lovers, family. Yourself. You get to miss all the details because things are going too fast pow pow pow one after the other until it piles up and then you end up beating yourself up for small and simple mistakes…calm down and adjust yourself. You will be okay.

• I’m telling you fam- TAKE BREAKS. Give yourself moments to relax and rejuvenate before you push yourself!! You put too much pressure on yourself as it is

• connect with your inner feminine energy when you have the time—you gotta MAKE that time for yourself

• don’t be so neglectful in your relationships btw! Romantic, platonic, familial, wtv- learn how to manage your time so that you can separate work and assignments with social relations. Keep that communication up!! This includes your inner and outer voice. Reflect and acknowledge how you feel.

big focus: be more open minded to making new connections! spend more time with others. you’ll find emotional happiness and fulfillment in it :)

————————————

Ending Teddy note:

Hello hollywood people 😎 it has been a long minute! thank you for taking the time to read through this—YOU ARE AWESOME!!! Always remember to take what resonates and leave what doesn’t! I’ll cya fam ciao :)

[samuraiko]

Contacting your Senators and House Reps -- some helpful scripts!

Begging any and all of my friends/followers in the United States to reblog this one and PLEASE be sure to tag it -- if you have ideas for better tags, use them and I will update THIS post with the better tags!

---

So since the Fascist Regime™ (aka the current US administration) is losing NO time in speedrunning the Nazi Germany storyline, it is more important than EVER to let your elected officials know that this is absolute batshit and they should be doing everything they can to oppose it.

As a note -- your elected officials' contact information is PUBLICLY available via the official government websites senate.gov and house.gov -- these are their OFFICES (not private residences).

Elected officials cannot help but notice when suddenly their offices are getting bombarded with phone calls. That said, I urge anyone who calls them to be polite, firm, clear, and specific about why they are calling. To that end, here are a few useful sites with scripts for calling them!

https://callhub.io/blog/political-campaign/call-your-representative-script/ -- pretty straightforward, gives some ideas of how to tweak things

https://autisticadvocacy.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/fact-sheet-how-to-call-your-elected-officials.pdf -- this one explains the use of Augmentative and Alternative Communication (AAC) devices!

https://www.padeasla.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/Script-for-Calling-your-Senator-and-Representative.pdf -- again, tweak these as necessary to address the proper issue or issues you're calling about

https://www.kchealthykids.org/uploads/1/3/2/6/132654074/sample-phone-script-to-contact-your-legislator-.pdf -- Also, just to remind folks, you can find your Senators' and House Rep's contact info at either senate.gov or house.gov, just select your state and off you go!

http://sharedhope.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/Generic-legislator-call-script.pdf -- this one is the *BEST* for anyone with social anxiety! All the useful tips and tricks you could want for how to overcome those hurdles!

If you REALLY feel uncomfortable calling and talking to a person, you *ARE* allowed to leave a message after hours. Just read off the script of your choice and you're good to go.

You can *ALSO* use these as templates for EMAILING your elected officials! As per the aforementioned government sites, virtually *ALL* of them have contact forms that you can fill out. Do not use 'burner' information with them, as you want to be sure they recognize you as a valid constituent and not just some rando harassing anyone and everyone.

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

Oh well, since you encouraged me... Something that's been on a mind since I've read your older brother!Dick I just keep thinking of the incest potencial... Even with the more than controversial ages

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍…

!!! 18+ THEMES, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, GN reader, fauxcest, age gap, toxic dynamic, noncon, making out, disgusting touching, brief hints of sexual content, general yandere fuckery, manipulation, kind of grooming(?), controlling behaviors, poor reader trying to cope so hard.

GGGGGGGGGRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAA—

Don’t worry, pooks, I saw all of your other asks about this idea and I’ll try to remember to hit all of the points you bring up. I just wanna keep it all in one place.

ALSO, ALSO, ALSO, LIFE WITH OLDER BROTHER ENJOYERS. HEY. HEY. LISTEN. If you’re not fucking with this ask and you don’t want the wholesome platonic dynamic you conjured in your brain ruined for you, DO NOT PROCEED ANY FURTHER. LIKE, AT ALL. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

You literally clocked me so badddd. Yes, the undertones in that series are 100% intended. I’m not gonna add anything overtly incestuous, but like… the subtext is there for the freaks to pick up on. Platonic incest where the lines blur every now and then, I love you so much.

Anyways, lemme get to yapping for real.

If we’re going to vaguely follow the Life With Older Brother series, Dick suddenly being so friendly to you would be… a little bit jarring. But try to think about it from his perfective: he wasn’t really there for Jason, and the thought of failing another younger sibling is too much to handle. Maybe he’s just trying to be more present for you. As weird as he may come off, you should at least give him a chance.

The beginning isn’t all that bad. Even if he’s relatively new to the older brother thing, you can tell he’s trying his best, and dare you say it, he’s actually fun to hang out with. Playing video games, going out for ice cream, trashy movie marathons… it almost makes you forget about those weirder behaviors. Almost.

Now, one thing you quickly noticed is how touchy-feely he is. Whenever you’re together, it seems like he’s always got sort of body part touching you one way or another. Sometimes, it’s subtle: a knee resting against yours, a very quick head-pat, his hand brushing against you as he gestures at something. Nothing all that noticeable unless if you’re very sensitive to touch. But then there are times where it’s a little more… overt. Like when he slings an arm around your shoulders. Or when he holds your hand while out and about. Or when pulls you against his side by your waist when it’s a crowded area. Every now and then, you find yourself wondering if this is normal. Do siblings usually touch each other so often? It kind of makes sense, but… considering you haven’t even been siblings for a full year, should he really be this comfortable around you yet?

If you think you can set boundaries with him, good fucking luck. He might’ve made it seem like he was hearing you out, but it won’t be long before he’s back at it with the touching. Okay… maybe this is something he really can’t help. As annoying — and weird… and uncomfortable — it may be, you’ll probably just have to suck it up and get used to it. Some people are just very handsy. But not like that! Oh my god, no. Dick’s Nightwing; a good guy, for Christ’s sake. He would never do anything like that!

(… Right?)

Here’s the thing about platonic physical affection: how weird can it get before people finally draw the line? Is it forehead kisses? Hugging someone by the waist? Having them sit in your lap whenever the opportunity arises? Are any of those things actually weird, or does Dick somehow make them weird? Because, yes, he still most definitely acts like an older brother — he certainly teases you like one, and you constantly have to fight against the urge to bite him like a feral weasel — but the touching… well… maybe familial affection is just a concept foreign to you (thanks in no small part to Bruce), but Dick somehow makes it feel like something else.

And you’ll admit; you don’t actually know what that something else is. All you know is that you’re pretty sure big brothers do not do that gentle, extremely intimate thumb-stroke thing to their little sibling’s face before a forehead kiss. And they also do not come up from behind their little sibling for a hug.

And the lap thing?

That was probably the turning point.

Because what older brother has their little sibling sit on their lap while watching TV? One hand on your hip, the other on your thigh… he’s doing that weirdly intimate thumb stroke thing on your bare skin, and all you can do is sit there and think, oh… I don’t like this. If you’re brave enough to ask him what he’s doing, he’ll play dumb. Hm? What do you mean, kiddo? He’s not doing anything… what are you talking about?

Before you can even begin to express how uncomfortable you are, however, his fingers start toying with the hem of your shit. You’re acutely aware of his knuckles brushing against the flesh of your torso, sending an uneasy shiver up your spine. Dick’s no stranger to touching your waist area, and while you still don’t really like it that much, you’ve gotten used to it. But this? Something about the actual skin on skin contact makes you freeze up entirely.

���You know,” Dick would thoughtfully begin, “I’m probably the luckiest big brother in the world. I don’t think you realize just how cute you are, (Y/N).”

His hand then inches its way up your shirt.

BadbadbadbadbadbaDBADBADBADBAD—

Don’t bother fighting back. Don’t bother yelling at him. Don’t even bother squirming as he gently begins to run circles into the skin under your shirt. His grip on your thigh is like iron, holding you down to his lap and making any struggle futile. In fact, if I were to venture a guess, you’d probably be too petrified to even move, the shock of the moment rendering you completely immobile. This was supposed to be your big brother; yes, he’s a bit weird and overprotective, but he’s still your fucking big brother. And while your knowledge on big brothers may be extremely limited, you know for a fact that this is crossing a line.

Your faces become closer and closer until his breath is ghosting against your lips. “I love you, kiddo. You know that, right?”

You don’t dare to offer him a response. Hell, you don’t even know what you could say to that. The only thing filling your brain is the brazen warning bells screaming for you to get the fuck away from him. Except you can’t. For whatever reason, your body’s frozen in place, limbs weighing you down like heavy ice blocks.

You can’t move.

You can’t fucking move.

And, of course… he takes advantage of that.

By the time his lips softly plant themselves on yours, it’s too late. The lines between platonic and whatever the fuck this is have long been crossed, and you can never go back to pretending like everything is normal between you two. All of the subtle warning signs you opted to ignore were now blaring in your mind like loud sirens, almost mocking the fact that you didn’t fucking trust yourself.

This can’t be happening. This absolutely can’t be happening. You thought of this creep as your big brother; was this really the same guy that helped you with homework and let you play games on his laptop? Was this really the same guy under the Nightwing mask?

While the kiss evolves into something a little more passionate, he doesn’t take it too far. Just a gentle make-out session with roaming hands. He ends it by holding you against his chest, seemingly content with just occasionally peppering kisses to your face for the next hour or so. Neither of you say anything during this time. Even if you want to yell at him and demand why the fuck he did that, you’re too shocked to even form a coherent thought.

The man you thought could be your big brother is a massive fucking creep.

You think you’re going to be sick.

He doesn’t go out for patrol that night. Instead, he simply picks you up and carries you to his room, dressing you in his clothes for bed. You’re still trying to process the humiliation of letting this all happen as he slips you under the sheets with him and cuddles up to you. Sleep doesn’t come easy to you that night. How the fuck could it? Not only do you have that stupid fucking kiss haunting you, but now you have this sicko’s hand playing with the waistband of your shorts (his shorts), and god. You’re not sure how you didn’t throw up then and there.

So. What happens afterwards? Well, first off, no more phone. Dick’s not an idiot; he knows the lines he crossed that evening and would rather you not call Bruce or Alfred or the police. You’re also not allowed on his laptop unless if he’s supervising you, and your ass is not going outside anytime soon. Then we have the gross shit… yeah, now that he’s had a taste, he’s gonna be all over you. It won’t go that far just yet — he’d rather ease you into that territory, much like what he’s been doing before — but it can get a bit steamy. At least for him. You might still be grossed out over all this or whatever.

You know what the worst part is? He still has the audacity to act like your older brother. It doesn’t matter how many times he touches you or forces you to kiss him: he’ll call you kiddo through it all and offer to play some video games afterwards. In fact, are times where you both return to your previous sibling banter and you can almost convince yourself that things are totally fine. There you go again, falling for his meticulously set up trap.

This new dynamic might take some time to get used to, but Dick will try his damned hardest to make it seem natural. So what if Big Brother sometimes wants to pin his cute little sibling against the counter and leave love bites on their neck? Sometimes, it just has to happen. No harm, no foul. This could be normal if you stopped being so weird about it, you know.

And, you know what… you may find yourself finally accepting that this is your new normal. What else are you supposed to do? You can’t call anyone, you can’t run away, you can’t even fight back because he was trained by fucking Batman… you sure as hell don’t have to like it, but maybe you can make peace with it. This is nothing more than an annoyance from your big brother. That’s all. It’s not him grooming you. It’s not him taking advantage of you. It’s just him being a little irritating at times. Ignore the urge to throw up… ignore how your skin crawls whenever he’s near you… every sibling has their flaw, and being a total creep is Dick’s.

You’d probably begin to despise Bruce a little, too. Did he know how fucked up his former ward is? Or is the exact same way? Guess you’ll never know, because the man can’t even bother to check up on you. He essentially took you out of the system and threw you into the den of a wolf, subjecting you to a new personal hell you can’t even escape from. And Alfred… you thought he actually cared. Is he not concerned about the sudden radio silence on your end?

You really can’t help but wonder if anyone even thinks about you outside of the apartment, and with Dick being in control of what information he feeds to Bruce over the phone, all you can do is guess at this point. In the meantime, Big Brother just came back and needs a hug… why don’t you come on over to the couch, kiddo?

Ugh. There are so many fucking directions I can go in from here. You mentioned Bruce (or eventually Tim) becoming suspicious and finding out what’s going on, and GRRRRR. SO GOOD. SO FUCKING GOOD. I need to write a blurb about this. It’s so addicting. I just had to get some of the base ideas on this out because this concept has been marinating in my brain for way too long. I’m not kidding, I was going to actually explode if I didn’t get to talk about this. I NEED MORE OF THIS TYPE OF SHIT.

[mxrcurysb1tch]

Rating my astrology placements (and yours... maybe)

Inspired by @abyssalfaith

Cancer venus- 8/10 I feel like I feel this one quite strongly. I fall in love (or the idea of it lol) quite quickly and I can really romanticise people. I can't always tell if I am in love with someone or just really admire them platonically, which is a bit confusing ngl. I can never have a crush on more than one person at once. I have so much empathy and love for my friends and I'd genuinely do anything for them. I think there is so much beauty in longing and just emotions in general. ALSO I am obsessed with the friends to lovers trope.

Gemini rising- 9/10 Honestly if it wasn't for this placement I'd be the biggest freaking recluse ever. I literally have to give my opinion/share my experiences on everything especially online lol. I find socialising very exciting. My mind is all over the place and I have so many conflicting thoughts at once. Very adaptable, good at blending in with social situations. Having a broad knowledge of a lot of things is helpful too but sometimes I struggle when it gets too specific. I luuuurve being percieved as witty and funny. Sometimes I find it difficult to calm down or to focus on one thing. ALWAYS losing, dropping, forgetting stuff. INDECISIVE AF and childish in a good way.

4h Stellium- (sun, mars, mercury, jupiter) 6/10 Honestly have a love/hate thing with this one. I have such a weird relationship w/ my family, especially extended family. I love my home and I feel deeply connected to it, especially that I've lived in the same house all my life. My home is a sanctury to me and I want it to be as cozy as possible. Being an only child, it has always been my dream to grow up and have a fairly big family, 3-4 kids.

Capricorn moon- 7/10 Sometimes I wish I was more able to be soft. I am very nurturing but in my own way. So loyal and steady and reliable and strong but people don't always appreciate these things. Emotional nurturance growing up was almost non existent. Very sensitive underneath. This placement is kind of like an armour. I have to say though, although I am very dedicated to my work and use it to avoid my feelings, I have never met a capricorn moon that wants a corporate job and is the stereotypical 'workaholic'. We're actually susceptible to getting burnt out pretty easily. Very cautious even when I was a kid, hate taking risks. The pessimistic thing is absolutely true though, we're just good at hiding it.

2h venus and saturn- 8/10 I have never really had to worry about money which is great. Tricky relationship w/ food for most of my life but I really do love it and use it as a comfort.

8h moon- 5/10 This is a placement that everyone knows sucks. And yeah it kinda does especially as a child. Financial and physical support, big inheritance from family but basically no emotional support at all (+ capricorn so you can imagine). Guilt and other very heavy emotions imposed by family. BUT I do feel like this is a very baddass placement. I can feel the energy of people and places without even having the words to describe it. I have become very good at knowing who is good for me and who is not. I can always see things coming ages before it happens. Doesn't mean I listen to it though LOL so I am always disappointed but never surprised.

Leo mercury (retrograde) 6/10 Oh man. Having mercury retrograde is interesting. Leo mercuries are funny and bright and communicate with 'flare' I feel like. And while I do this to a certain extent, it can get a bit convoluted along the way. I am a pretty entertaining storyteller, I talk fast, I am pretty dramatic (outwardly at least) and I love making people laugh and love talking. I dislike small talk, I just kind of find it boring and pointless and kind of uncomfortable at times but I can do it fairly well, its not like I don't know how to, I would just prefer not to. (I feel like being a gemini rising kind of counteracts some of the issues I have with mercury being rx in my chart). Im very introspective but I think about myself way too much, too much internal jumbled dialogue, like pls just SHUT UP. Growing up I LOVED being on stage and I would still probably be doing it had life not taken me down a different path.