#as usual this are only my thoughts...always open for discussion😉

[hyperfixatedonthisnow]

Siren's call

*not my GIF I know, I know, I suck at titles, but I’ve come to accept this about myself and therefore so must you! Summary: A Siren and a privateer fall in love, but how will he react when he finally learns what she is? Requested by: Anonymous - Sturmhond/Nikolai finds out his girlfriend is a siren. How will that go? - Dearest anon, I am *so* sorry that this took me so long to put out. I fell down a bit of a rabbit hole researching Sirens and found your request so interesting that I honestly could have written much more. I started out with Sturmhond, then switched to Nikolai after reader learns his real name, and I went with Sirens as shape-shifting mermaids, rather than the Greek version of bird like creatures, mostly because it was easier to write in but also because birds freak me out a bit tbh, I’m hoping you don’t mind. Also there’s smut at the end, but if you don’t like that then feel free to stop reading when the kissing starts 😉 I realized way too late that I probably should have asked you for more details 🤦‍♀️ So I can only hope that this is something close to what you wanted! Word count: 7.5K ish - because much like our favorite prince/privateer, I prefer to use several words when one will do 😅

Warnings: NSFW - 18+ only. Mild peril, mild angst, a touch of fluff, minor OC’s who exist only to further the (minimal) plot, a very brief mention of non-con (but not with Nikolai), smut, fem!reader, P in V sex, semi-rough sex, marking, unprotected sex (not recommended in real life!)

You had been following the ship closely for weeks, watching the crew, learning their habits, and charting their course to figure out the best time to take them. Amalia preferred to wait until they were close to land, though it was easier and safer to simply lure them into open water out at sea. She liked the challenge, but more than that, she liked to be the last thing the men saw before they died. It made her feel powerful- to know how much they wanted her and could never have her.

If it was up to you, you would wait until nightfall and sing from a distance, letting your enchanting lullaby guide the men from their beds straight into a watery grave. You didn’t take pleasure in their deaths, even if you knew it was necessary. Unnatural your sisters teased, for a Siren to have such a soft heart. Amalia never joined in with the teasing, though you knew she didn’t really understand you either. Still, she indulged you by allowing you to act as scout, and that meant you could mostly narrow down the targets to pirates and slavers, offering the fishermen and other sailors some small semblance of protection.

Whenever possible, you would scout several ships at a time, so that you could choose the one you wanted and hopefully sway Amalia towards it when you returned to discuss your findings. Unfortunately, only one ship had passed through your waters in almost a month, and although you felt it was worth saving, there was no second option.

When you met with Amalia, you thought carefully about what you had found before you spoke, deciding on the major details you should share with her and filtering out your own more personal observations.

At first glance, it had seemed like a Pirate ship, but further investigation proved that it was not. The crew was an eclectic mix of men, women, and Grisha, of various ages and races. The captain - who went by the name Sturmhond and insisted he was not a pirate, but a privateer - was young, barely out of boyhood, and yet it was clear that he commanded their respect.

He ran a tight ship, but he always treated his crew warmly and he worked alongside them often, doing his fair share of the hard work. He was rarely angry and never cruel, as far as you could tell. At night the crew would gather on the deck to drink and play cards, and he usually joined them. He didn’t seem to think himself above their company as some captains would. You watched him dance and laugh along with the others, and when he lost at cards, he always took it in good humour.

In the conversations you had overheard, the captain’s responses were measured and kind, free from judgment or scorn. Although they carried an impressive arsenal of weapons, you had witnessed no violence from him, nor any of his crew. No prisoners taken, no poor souls forced to walk the plank, no slaves bound in the hull of his ship.

He spent most of his hours working on some flying contraption and after several failed tests, you saw his joy when it actually worked. He was a good man, you had concluded. Intelligent and funny, and handsome, too. You tried to imagine Amalia’s face if you admitted that last bit out loud - she would probably think you had taken leave of your senses completely.

You bit your lip, wondering how you could persuade her to spare them, to spare him.

“Actually, I was thinking… maybe we should… let this one go,” you suggested tentatively. Might as well just be direct.

Amalia stared at you as though you had grown an extra head. “Let them go?” She said after a moment, her nose scrunching in disgust. “You think these men should live?”

“They aren’t just men,” you rushed, trying to justify yourself. “There are women on the crew, and Grisha too.”

“And?” Amalia prompted.

“And, they don’t deserve to be punished for the sins of men,” you argued, “they’re innocent.”

Amalia rolled her eyes, “They’ve chosen to take up with a pirate, have they not?”

“Privateer,” you corrected, but the moment the word was out you wished you could call it back.

Amalia narrowed her eyes suspiciously at you. “Privateer?” She echoed.

“Yes?” You squeaked, and it sounded more like a question than an answer. You cleared your throat. “Yes. He’s not a pirate, he’s a privateer, and he’s a good man, Amalia. I’ve seen it.”

Amalia laughed, “There is no such thing as a good man,” she muttered, “They are all the same. Weak-minded, arrogant, selfish creatures. They live only for violence and destruction.”

“Not him,” you said firmly. “He’s not like the others.”

“He’s exactly like the others,” she snapped, “If you gave him the chance, he would kill you without a second thought.”

“No,” you argued, “You’re wrong about him. He’s smart and kind, and good. I swear it.”

She studied you for a long moment and you tried not to fidget under her disapproving gaze. Your cheeks felt hot, and you knew you were probably blushing.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve gone and fallen in love with him!” She exclaimed finally.

You said nothing, but your silence was answer enough. You looked away, pressing your lips together. It was out there now, no point in trying to deny it.

“Foolish girl,” Amalia said, shaking her head. “There is no future for you with him, surely you must see that?”

“Of course I do,” you whispered, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill over. “But I won’t watch him die Amalia. Not this one. I can’t.”

Amalia sighed, and then she surprised you by pulling you in to a tight hug.

“Please,” you begged, voice breaking.

“There’s a storm coming,” she murmured into your hair, “I suppose we could wait it out.”

“We could?” You questioned hopefully.

“If they can survive it, on their own, then we will leave them be. That’s the best I can do.”

Relief flooded through you, and you hugged Amalia tighter. “Thank you!” You cried.

She pulled back to look at you, her expression troubled. “I know you don’t want to believe it, but men are dangerous. All men. Even your privateer,” she said seriously, hands gripping your shoulders, “So if I do this, if I let him live, it is on the condition that you agree to stay away from him. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation. You would do anything to protect him.

“You must never see him again. Not ever. Promise me,” she insisted.

“I promise,” you said, the words bitter on your tongue.

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The sea was rough, waves cresting 30ft high only to crash back down, as loud as thunder. You watched as the ship rose and fell along with them. You weren’t supposed to be here, had promised to stay away, but you couldn’t help yourself. You had to know that he would be ok. Amalia had agreed to wait until the storm had passed, but if the ship ran aground her small act of mercy wouldn’t matter.

You moved closer, letting the current sweep you towards the ship. It had to be taking on water, but so far, the crew seemed to be holding on. Once you were close enough, you watched them carefully. The Grisha who usually guided their sails spread his arms wide, fighting a losing battle against the ferocious winds. He was just a boy, and not nearly powerful enough to tame such a storm alone. A woman jumped from the lookout, rolling across the deck, and landing gracefully on her feet beside a tall man with similar features. They moved to secure the main sail, working in perfect tandem. A man in a teal coat ran from post to post, tightening the rigging and testing the knots before making his way to the helm to take the wheel. Sturmhond. His hair was plastered to his face, his clothes soaking wet. He took the wheel with both hands, pulling hard to the left, and though his expression was determined, you could sense his growing desperation.

The ship slowly began to turn, forcing the bow away from the storm. Trying to outrun it. For a moment it looked as though his plan might actually work, but then suddenly the ship listed dangerously starboard. Sturmhond struggled to right it, but it was too late. A wave crashed over the now tilted masts, snapping them clean away with a force that rolled the entire ship on to its side. It bobbed precariously for half a second, sailors clinging to the railings, before another wave hit, cracking the hull. If they weren’t taking on water before, they certainly were now. Finally, a voice called out, “ABANDON SHIP!” and the crew began leaping into the sea, frantically trying to escape the wreckage before it capsized completely.

Your eyes scanned the chaos, looking for Sturmhond. You found him clambering up one side of the railing, the ship already beginning to sink beneath his feet. He was looking around, searching for something. Checking all his crew had managed to get out. And then you saw it, at the same time he did - the Grisha crewman, hanging upside down, tangled in the remains of the rigging. The boy struggled, desperately trying to free himself, but he was stuck. Jump, you urged the privateer silently, leave him, but you already knew he wouldn’t. He turned away from the water and began climbing towards his crew mate instead. Stupid. He would never make it in time. The ship was sinking rapidly. In just a few precious seconds it would go under, and when it did, anyone still on it would be pulled under along with it.

You wanted to help him, but you knew you shouldn’t. You thought of your promise to Amalia. She would be furious if she found out you were here, even more so if you interfered. You hesitated, still watching from a safe distance as Sturmhond reached the Grisha with barely a moment to spare. He tugged a knife from his boot and cut the boy free, allowing him to drop safely into the water beneath them. The boy didn’t wait for his captain, he immediately began swimming away from the wreckage. But before Sturmhond could follow, another huge wave swept over the ship, dragging it - and him - underwater, just as you had predicted. He was going to drown.

You made a split-second decision, diving under the water to search for him. The weight of the sinking ship acted like a vacuum, sucking everything downward to the sea floor. You followed it down, but you couldn’t see him anywhere. Panic clawed at your chest. Had he made it to the surface by himself? You turned, ready to go back up, when a flash of teal and gold below you caught your eye. There. You dove back down, looping your arms under his and hauling him against you. He was limp, a heavy weight in your arms. You held him tight, swimming away from the wreckage and towards the surface as fast as you could.

When you reached the surface, you pulled him above the water line, working hard to keep you both afloat. His head lolled back on your shoulder and his eyes were closed. You weren’t sure if he was breathing, and you felt panic building again. You tried to ignore it as you headed for the shore, where you shifted quickly into human form. Once you had dragged him onto the wet sand, you laid him on his back and pressed your ear to his chest. There was no sound, no movement that suggested breathing. Maybe he swallowed too much water?

You turned his head to the side and then placed your hands over his stomach and pushed upwards, hard. Was that the right thing to do? You weren’t sure, but you thought you had seen it done before, once… maybe. Nothing happened. You tried again, and again… and again. Were you doing it wrong … or were you just too late? But then, suddenly, he was coughing up a lungful of water and gasping for breath as he came round. After a few moments he blinked his eyes open, finding you still leaning over him.

“Am I dead?” He mumbled.

“No,” you assured him. Thank the sea goddess! Overcome with emotion, you flung yourself at him, sobbing in relief. His arms closed around you hesitantly, though he surely thought you were insane - a perfect stranger, crying over him and hugging him without invitation.

The storm was over and the sea eerily still by the time the rest of his crew managed to make it to shore. You had calmed yourself, and Sturmhond was sitting up, chatting amiably with you, as if he hadn’t almost died mere minutes earlier. You learned that he had another ship, the Volkvolny, and he cheerfully informed you that really, the storm had done him a favour, because he hadn’t liked the other one all that much anyway. It was nothing short of a miracle that everyone had survived the wreckage with only minimal injuries, and that put them all in a remarkably good mood considering the circumstances. Sturmhond introduced you to the crew, and casually insisted you join them at the local tavern, to dry off and have a strong drink, or two.

As you got to your feet, you caught sight of Amalia at the far side of the shore. Too far away to really make out her features, but you could imagine the look of disappointment on her face. You had broken the promise you made her, and worse than that, here you were walking and talking with humans as though you were old friends. To top it all off, you had committed a cardinal sin amongst Sirens - you had saved a man’s life. You had chosen a man over your sisters, and no matter how much Amalia loved you, this was the one thing she could not forgive.

At the tavern, you quickly discovered that Sturmhond and his crew were a lively, friendly bunch. You were treated as the guest of honour since you had saved the captain’s life, and they welcomed you with open arms. So, when they planned to move to the Volkvolny, and asked if you wanted to come along, you agreed to go with them.

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It was far easier than you would have expected for you to adjust to your new life aboard the Volkvolny. You found that you had watched enough Sailors over the years to pick up some of the basics and luckily you hit it off with Tamar, who quickly took you under her wing, teaching you the more advanced skills. You listened to endless hours of poetry readings from Tolya, and in exchange he offered to teach you how to fight. In fact, most of the crew accepted you readily. In truth, a lot of the men had just been so enthralled by your ethereal beauty that they were half in love with you at first sight, and the fact that you had saved their captain’s life had been enough to endear you to the rest.

All except for one woman, a young Grisha heartrender named Laila who seemed set on hating you no matter how hard you tried to befriend her. Tamar said it was jealousy - Laila wanted to be the captains favourite but he had never shown any interest in her, and now with you around, he likely never would. You tried not to let it bother you, but you were worried that she might sense something was different about you and early one morning she confirmed your fears when she cornered you in the galley, pushing you up against the wall.

“I’m on to you,” she hissed, “you’re hiding something and I’m going to figure out what it is.”

You played it cool, pretending you had no idea what she meant, and though you briefly considered throwing her overboard, you ultimately decided it was too risky. Instead, you did your best to avoid her at all times, at least as much as you could avoid someone living in such close proximity, and you became an expert at hiding in plain sight.

The bond you had formed with Sturmhond as a result of saving his life grew into a fully-fledged friendship, and then, into something sweeter. Over time, you found yourself sharing his bed as well as his company, and once he trusted you enough to reveal his true identity - Nikolai Lantsov, royal spare to the Ravkan throne - you were moved into the captain’s quarters permanently.

You missed Amalia and being on the sea everyday but never in it, was its own special kind of torture, but you had made your choice and you would do it all over again in a heartbeat. You would choose him, always, whatever the cost. So, you vowed never to use your power again, if it only meant you could keep this new life, if it meant you could keep him. But of course, nothing was ever that simple.

You had been on the Volkvolny for almost a year when it finally happened…

The crew were gathered in a loose circle on the lower deck, chatting and sharing several bottles of liquor, relaxing after a long day. You followed Nikolai down the steps to join them and when he took the only empty seat, you didn’t hesitate to drop yourself into his lap. A chorus of wolf whistles and hooting erupted from the crew around you.

“Perverts,” you muttered, giving them the middle finger and they all laughed.

Nikolai looped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You leaned against him, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, content to just be close to him while the crew drank and talked around you. You joined the conversation only when spoken to directly and luckily no one noticed your contemplative mood, as they all got steadily drunker and rowdier as the night went on. At some point, someone started singing a sea shanty and one by one the rest of the crew joined in, happy and loud, and painfully off-key. You smiled and clapped along, but otherwise stayed quiet. Laila was watching you carefully from across the circle.

“You’re not singing,” she said suddenly, and you were sure you weren’t imagining the accusation in her tone.

“Oh, no one wants to hear my singing,” you laughed nervously, waving her off, “honestly I’m terrible.”

She narrowed her eyes at you. “You can’t be that bad. Come on, just sing a few lines,” she pushed.

You shifted uncomfortably on Nikolai’s lap. His hand tightened on your waist, and you knew he was listening. You struggled to think of another excuse. “I- umm…”

“Leave her alone,” Tamar interjected, and you flashed her a grateful smile for coming to your rescue. “She doesn’t have to sing if she doesn’t want to.”

“But she never wants to sing,” Laila muttered petulantly, “don’t you think that’s odd?”

“What’s odd is you insisting she does,” Nikolai said, an unmistakable edge to his voice. “Let it go Laila.”

Laila flushed at the reprimand. She reluctantly fell silent again, but she was glaring at the drink in her hands, her expression murderous. Silence stretched awkwardly for a few seconds, until Tolya thankfully broke it by producing a deck of cards and starting a game.

You declined to play, and as the cards were dealt you turned your attention away. Through the gaps in the railings, you could see the miles of deep blue sea that stretched all the way to the horizon, and you felt a familiar pull, calling you home. You closed your eyes as you inhaled deeply, letting the salty air fill your lungs. Home. You would never be truly at home here, on this ship, and that thought filled you with sadness. You thought of Amalia, and you wondered if she missed you, the way that you missed her.

You were pulled from your reverie by Nikolai shifting beneath you. He leaned over you to throw his cards down on the table, declaring he was bowing out of the game and then he sat back, pulling you further into his lap.

“Everything alright, my love?” He asked quietly, his lips brushing your ear. You pushed away your melancholy, turning your head so you could look at him.

“Yes,” you murmured, and you meant it. You wanted to be here, with him, no matter how much you might miss home.

“Thinking about how absurdly handsome I am?” He waggled his eyebrows at you, and you laughed.

“No, but I was thinking about you,” you admitted, “about how I ended up here.”

“Ah, so you’re thinking about the time you saved my life then. No wonder you looked so serious.”

“Which time?” You mused, teasing him, “There are so many, I think I’ve lost count.”

Nikolai gasped, all faux outrage. “Once.” He insisted, “It was one time.”

“If you say so,” you smiled indulgently as he leaned in to kiss you, slow and deep, his hand cupping your jaw. The whistling and jeering immediately started up again. You pulled away, rolling your eyes at the crew’s antics.

Nikolai sighed. “For Saints sake,” he grumbled, but he sounded more fond than angry.

When you looked up, Laila was glaring at you. She fixed a smile on her face as you met her gaze, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“I’ve been thinking,” She said loudly, gaining everyone’s attention, “what exactly happened, the night you joined us? We’ve never heard your side of the story.”

Had she figured it out? You tried to keep your expression as neutral as possible, but you had stared at her for a beat too long, and now everyone was looking at you, waiting for your answer.

“There’s really not much to tell,” you said carefully.

“Don’t be so modest,” Laila said, her smile sharp, “you saved the Captain’s life after all, and I want to hear every detail.”

Your heart pounded. You should have pushed her overboard when you had the chance. As you tried to come up with a plausible story, the ship was suddenly engulfed in a thick fog.

After that, everything happened so quickly that you barely understood it. One moment you were sailing in open water, the night clear and still, and the next, you were dodging gunfire in near blindness, as men appeared from nowhere and swarmed the ship. The crew fought valiantly, but you were outnumbered and outmatched by a pair of the most powerful Grisha you had ever encountered. You had heard rumours about the drug jurda parem, and now it seemed you were seeing it’s effects first hand. All around you was chaos and you couldn’t keep track of anything. Before long, most of your crew were injured and eventually, all of them captured.

The fog dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, and then there was Nikolai - bleeding, gagged and bound - forced to his knees on the deck of his own ship.

A man grabbed you from behind, holding you against his body with an arm around your waist and a hand twisting painfully in your hair. Nikolai tried to call out as he caught sight of you and your captors laughed.

“Looks like we’ve found the captain’s whore,” one of the men chuckled.

The one holding you ran his hand up from your waist to roughly grab at your breast. You held perfectly still, you weren’t going to give these animals the satisfaction of a reaction, but Nikolai struggled against his bonds, and the man standing over him backhanded him hard across the face. He swayed on his knees, the force of the blow almost knocking him over, and blood trickled from the fresh wound at his temple. The men began talking amongst themselves, loudly detailing all the disgusting things they would enjoy doing to you later.

“Don’t worry,” Nikolai’s captor taunted him, “we’ll let you watch.”

Nikolai struggled again, cold rage clear in his eyes as the men laughed. For a brief moment, he managed to get to his feet, but that only gave his captor an excuse to hit him again, and again, until he slumped to the floor, and when you screamed in protest, the men laughed harder, enjoying your misery.

These men were going to die today, you decided, and you would not show them the mercy of a quick death.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and started to sing. At first the men only looked at each other in confusion, but as your melody continued, they gradually fell under your spell, their eyes glazing over. You tried your best to focus only on them, but it wasn’t an exact science, so your crew also felt the effects. Conveniently, they were all bound and so had little chance of hurting themselves.

You concentrated on the Grisha first since they were the biggest threat, followed by the rest of the men. At your instruction, they turned as one, and forming an orderly line, walked to the side of the ship before binding their own hands and feet together. Then they clambered up onto the railing, and one by one, threw themselves into the water, like lemmings leaping off a cliff. You saved the man who had smacked Nikolai for last, and before he jumped, had him stab himself with his own blade several times, just for good measure.

Once the last man entered the water, you stood at the railing, feeling a perverse sense of satisfaction as you watched them trying, and failing, to fight against their bonds in an effort to return to you. You watched each one slowly begin to sink beneath the water, and only once you were sure there would be no chance that any of them might survive, did you stop singing and move away. When it was done, you set about releasing your crew from their bindings and tending to their wounds as best you could. They were groggy from the after-effects of your song, and it took some hours for everyone to fully come around. No one could really remember what had happened, and you pretended not to know either. You could only cross your fingers and hope that no one realized the truth of what you had done.

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Nikolai was quiet in the aftermath, and though he put up a good front for the rest of the crew, you could tell he was shaken by what had happened. Once everyone was attended to, he announced he was going to his office and he took your hand, pulling you along with him. You followed him to the captain’s quarters in silence.

He let you enter first and you heard the soft click of the lock as he closed the door behind him. You perched yourself on the edge of his desk as you waited for him, but when he turned, he leaned back against the door instead of coming closer. His face was set, his eyes hard, and you knew that he had finally figured out your secret. Honestly, you were surprised it had taken him this long, you had always known it was only a matter of time. You watched him carefully, but you said nothing, waiting for him to speak first.

“You’re a Siren,” he said finally.

You nodded your head in answer, even though he hadn’t phrased it as a question. He stared at you for a long moment, and you could almost hear the cogs turning in his mind, mulling over the many questions he must have. Eventually he seemed to settle on one.

“How many innocent men have you killed?” He asked.

“Innocent?” You huffed, “None.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, “But you have lured men to their deaths, haven’t you?”

“I have.” You conceded. He knew what you were now, there was no reason to lie.

“So? How many?” He pressed. “You must have some idea.” He crossed his arms over his chest, closing himself off to you.

“I didn’t exactly keep a tally,” you muttered.

“Tell me,” He demanded, “Dozens? Hundreds? Thousands?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, suddenly unable to meet his gaze, “I can’t remember them all.”

“Those men had lives and families,” he said, outraged, “they were someone’s father, brother, son, and you don’t even remember them?!”

You felt your own temper beginning to rise and you struggled to keep your voice even. “They were Slavers. Murderers and Pirates. They were the worst kind of men.”

“You don’t know that!” He argued, “What right did you have to judge them?”

“I’m a Siren,” you reminded him, “It’s what I was born to do. I followed them first, watched them, saw what kind of men they were with my own eyes. I only ever took the bad ones.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “So now you expect me to believe Sirens follow some kind of moral code?”

“Not all Sirens, but I expect you to believe that I do.”

“How am I to believe anything you say” he scoffed, “You’ve been lying to me since the day we met.”

“I didn’t lie to you, not really. Everything I told you about myself was true. I just omitted one small detail.”

He laughed, but there was no humour in it. “I think we have a vastly different understanding of the word small,” he muttered, “and a lie by omission is still a lie.”

He wasn’t wrong, but … “You lied to me too, Sturmhond.”

He straightened, no longer leaning against the door, but still kept the distance between you. “That’s hardly the same!” He protested.

“Isn’t it?”

“Not at all,” he huffed, “besides, I told you the truth once I thought I could trust you. Although clearly, I was mistaken.”

“You can trust me,” you insisted. “In case you’ve forgotten, I saved your life - twice. You’re welcome, by the way!”

He didn’t look convinced. “That first night, when you rescued me, were you watching the ship? Just waiting for an opportunity to kill us all?”

“No! I mean, yes - I watched you for a while, but I was never going to lure you. I convinced my sister to let you go,” you rushed, desperately trying to explain, “I promised to stay away from you and in return Amalia agreed that they wouldn’t go after you, if you survived the storm on your own.”

“But we didn’t,” he said, brow furrowed in confusion. “The ship sank and I almost drowned.”

“I remember. I was there when the storm hit. I saw you save the boy who was trapped in the rigging, and when you went under, I came after you.”

“I don’t understand. If you promised to stay away from me then why were you there?” He asked, frown deepening.

“I just needed to be know you would be alright,” you admitted softly, “I wasn’t supposed to help you.”

“I don’t suppose many Sirens would go out of their way to save a man from drowning,” he said, mouth curving into a wry smile.

“No. It goes against their nature. But you decided to act the hero and almost got yourself killed in the process,” you muttered angrily, “so I had to choose, and I chose you, even though I knew my sisters would never forgive me.”

“So, you really did save my life? That was real?”

“Yes. Everything between us has been real for me, I swear it,” you said earnestly, “I gave up everything for you.”

He moved towards you then, coming to stand over you where you were still sitting on the edge of his desk, and you widened your thighs to allow him in between them. He was so close that you had to tilt your head back to look at him. You closed your hands in to fists, fighting the urge to reach for him.

“And tonight?” He asked, “Did you kill those men?”

You could have lied, or pretended not to remember what happened, but you didn’t want there to be anymore secrets between you. “I did,” you confessed, meeting his eyes. You weren’t ashamed of what you had done. “and I would do it again if I had to. They would have killed you.”

“You’re not sorry,” he said, and you wondered if he wanted you to be.You thought about it for a moment, but when you closed your eyes, you could still see him on his knees. No. You weren’t sorry at all.

“They got what they deserved,” you hissed, “and the world is a better place without them in it.”

He gave a short, sharp nod of his head in agreement, and you smiled. Whatever he thought of you, he understood this at least.

“Tell me why,” he said, lifting a hand to brush your hair back from your face. “Why did you save me?”

“Because I love you,” you answered honestly, leaning into his touch when his hand lingered. “I loved you then and I love you now, even if you don’t feel the same.”

He dropped his hand, taking a single step back and you had to stop yourself from swaying forward, chasing the physical connection.

“How do I know that my feelings for you are truly my own? That you’re not influencing me somehow?”

“In what way?”

“I don’t know,” he said, “by using your Siren powers to manipulate me? To seduce me? How do I know you’re not just making me think I’m in love with you.”

“Are you?” You asked hopefully, “In love with me?”

He looked away. “Maybe,” he hedged.

“Well, Siren power doesn’t work that way. My song inspires lust-addled obsession, blind desire, unwavering obedience - not love.”

He stared at you for what felt like an eternity, considering your answer. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he studied you, and suddenly all you could think about was how much you wanted to kiss him.

“Okay.” He said finally. He stepped closer, into your personal space again, but frustratingly kept his hands to himself.

“Okay?”

“Yes. I believe you,” he said, “but you still should have told me. I had the right to know that the woman I’m sleeping with, the woman I fell in love with is a-“

“A monster?” You finished for him. You knew what men thought of creatures like you.

He glared at you. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“That’s not what you were going to say?” You asked, feigning innocence.

“No.” He said firmly.

“Mmm,” you hummed skeptically. “So you’re not afraid of me?”

He blinked at you, as though the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. “Should I be?”

“Well, a little bit couldn’t hurt,” you teased.

He shook his head exasperatedly, but he was smiling now, that perfect crooked smile that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. He put his hands around your waist, finally, pulling you into him and you fisted your hands in his shirt to keep him there. He lowered his head at the same time that you tilted yours up, and your lips ghosted over each other, close enough to share a breath but not quite touching.

“I have one last question,” he said, and you bit back a sigh. For saints sake, what else could he possibly want to know?

“Have you ever used your power to seduce me?”

You squinted at him, trying to decide if he was saying you might need to use your power to seduce him. You felt a flush of annoyance at the suggestion. “No,” you said carefully, “should I?”

He shook his head, no. “I already want you,” he admitted.

“Good,” you smiled, “because I want you too. All the time.”

The corner of his mouth tipped up into a pleased little smirk. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, leaning into him, and this time he kissed you for real, his lips soft but insistent against your own, not pulling away until you were both breathless.

“I’m still angry with you,” he said, when he finally succumbed to the need for air, “for lying to me.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, and you meant it.

“I know,” he said and then he dipped his head to kiss you again.

He brought his hand up to cup your face, the other still gripping your waist as you opened your mouth to him. He took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tangling his tongue with your own and every time you pulled back, he only allowed you to draw a single, ragged breath before he claimed your lips again.

One of his hands ran up your side from your waist, until his thumb grazed the swell of your breast over the thin cotton of your shirt, and you shivered, leaning into his touch. You could feel his growing arousal against your thigh, and you were suddenly overwhelmed by the need to feel his bare skin against your own. You tugged his shirt free from his breeches, pulling it up and off over his head before he could protest.

He immediately slanted his mouth over yours again, as if he couldn’t bear to be parted from you for more than a few seconds, and you let your hands roam over his broad shoulders and chest, before you worked on removing your own shirt. Your fingers slipped over the small buttons, and you growled in frustration, breaking away from his kiss so that you could see what you were doing. He made a sound of irritation, ducking his head to nip lightly at the curve of your neck and you gasped, your shirt momentarily forgotten as you grabbed a fistful of his hair instead. He groaned low in his throat when you pulled him closer rather than pushing him away, and he nipped at you again, teeth grazing your pulse point, this time hard enough to leave a mark. You moaned as his tongue flicked out to sooth the sting and you felt his lips turn up into a self-satisfied smirk against your skin.

When you finally succeeded in unbuttoning your shirt, you reached around your back to unhook your bra and removed that along with it, and then you dropped your hands to the laces of his breeches before he could distract you again. He finally realized your goal then, and began to help, rather than hinder you, pushing his breeches and underwear down to his ankles so that he could kick them away. You stood so that you could do the same and once you were both naked, he lifted you back up, so you were sitting on the edge of his desk again.

You leaned back on your hands, and he dipped his head, capturing one pebbled nipple with his tongue. You arched your back, pushing your breast further into his mouth as his fingers skated along your inner thigh towards your centre. He gave a small grunt of satisfaction when he found you slick and ready for him and you threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging him upwards until he released your nipple with a soft pop.

He slipped two fingers inside you easily, and when you clenched around him, he let out a distinctly strangled sound. You met his gaze as you sat up, so you could hook your legs around his thighs, locking your ankles behind his ass to keep him there, and you enjoyed the way his eyes fluttered closed and his breath hitched as his cock settled between your thighs, so close to where you wanted him. You tilted your hips up, and he took the hint, guiding himself into place and filling you completely with one quick, hard thrust that had you crying out.

You clutched at him desperately, barely able to do anything but hold on as he set a punishing pace, driving his hips forward fast and hard, only to retreat, again, and again, until you were both panting. His hands gripped your hips so hard that you knew there would be finger shaped bruises there tomorrow. The desk creaked loudly, almost drowning out your mutual sounds of pleasure, the sturdy wooden frame rocking beneath you with the force of his thrusts.

His face was buried in your neck, and you tugged impatiently on his hair as you felt the first tendrils of your impending orgasm began to creep up your spine, until he lifted his head so that you could capture his mouth with yours. He slipped his hand between your bodies as he felt you tightening around him, his clever fingers finding your clit and tipping you over the edge into climax with just a few precise movements. You cried out his name, convulsing around him as you came, your hand tightening in his hair so hard that it must have been painful, and you felt his rhythm falter. He thrust harder, pushing as deep as he could possibly go, once, twice, three times, then he stilled and shuddered, spilling himself inside you.

You all but collapsed against each other, both boneless and breathing heavily in the aftermath of your orgasms. He was the first to recover, and he pressed a sloppy kiss to your temple as he straightened, retreating from your body. He moved over to the basin near the bed, dipping a clean cloth into the water and wringing it out before returning. His hands were gentle, in stark contrast to how rough he had been minutes before and you tried not to wince as he carefully cleaned away the sticky remnants of your shared release, but his observant eyes caught it anyway. He pressed a finger under your chin to gently tilt your head up.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked, face creased in concern.

“No,” you answered, much too quickly.

He raised his eyebrows at you, his expression disbelieving.

“I’m a little bit sore,” you reluctantly admitted.

His face dropped into a scowl, and you knew he was angry at himself for being so rough with you.

“I’m ok,” you assured him, brushing your fingers across his forehead to smooth away his frown.

He searched your face, looking for any sign that you might not be telling the truth and you met his gaze, your expression loving and completely open. He rested his forehead against yours, peering down at you through his lashes.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said after a moment, and you knew he wasn’t just talking about right now.

“Never again,” you promised.

“Okay.” He said softly.

He leaned in to kiss you, sweet and chaste, just a slow glide of his lips over yours before pulling back to slide one arm underneath you and the other around your back. You squealed as he scooped you up, bridal style, so that he could carry you over to the bed. He pulled back the covers with one hand and then lowered you down and crawled in beside you, immediately curling his body around you.

You tried to relax into his embrace, but you couldn’t, not when there was still so much you needed to talk about. You were afraid to bring it up, too scared to hear him say that this was the last time you could be together, so you waited until his breathing began to even out and he was almost asleep before you forced yourself to speak.

“What happens now?” You asked quietly.

“Huh?” He mumbled sleepily.

“With us,” you elaborated, “do you want me to leave?”

“What? No.” He said, suddenly sounding much more alert, “Of course not.”

He rolled on to his back and you turned to face him, propping yourself up on your elbow so that you could look at him.

“What will you tell the crew?”

“Nothing,” he said simply, and though you should have been relieved, you only felt more anxious.

“But Laila is already suspicious,” you pointed out, “and Tolya and Tamar are too sharp not to figure it out eventually.”

“Then we’ll tell them the truth.”

“They won’t want me on this ship when they find out what I am, Nikolai.”

“Last time I checked, I was the captain,” he smirked, “I decide who I do, and don’t allow on my own ship.”

“Don’t be stupid, it doesn’t suit you,” you grumbled, “You’ll end up with a mutiny on your hands.”

“Then we’ll leave,” he said easily, as if it was the most obvious solution.

“Leave?” You repeated, not sure you had understood.

He shrugged, seemingly completely unbothered by the idea. “I was always going to have to go home eventually.”

“You can’t just leave. You love this ship!” You protested.

“I do,” he said, turning on his side so that you were face to face, “but I love you more. It’s my turn to give something up. If it comes down to it, I’ll choose you, always.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest. Hadn’t you just been thinking that very same thought earlier? He leaned in to kiss you, slow and achingly sweet, and all of your protests died on your tongue. He nudged you gently to turn over, pulling you back against him and wrapping his arm around you, so that you could be the little spoon as you finally went to sleep.

[danielfuckingricciardo]

You know why I’m here bestie 😉 number 6 for the wrapped music mini fic please 💜

Hey bestie!! I thought initially you knew which song this was since I sent my top songs in the GC but the fact that you didn’t makes this even more perfect!Ngl, it’s like destiny. So this is for you!! ❤️❤️❤️

A very brief sequel to my fic of the same name which you can read here -> ♥︎

(Side note: Love that I got to do a sequel to this fic! Also hello slut ring 👀👀👀)

6. Before He Cheats - Carrie Underwood

I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive // Carved my name into his leather seats // I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights // I slashed a hole in all four tires // Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats

Warnings: Slightly NSFW, discussion of sex but no actual sex.

Waking up the following morning, you’re greeted by a familiar throbbing in your forehead. ‘Fuck, how much did I drink last night?’ You think to yourself as you rub your temples, rolling over to face the nightstand and check the time.

What you’re greeted by, instead of your usual alarm clock, is a bottle of cologne, an empty protein bar wrapper, and a gold signet ring, all three of which definitely do not belong to you.

As you force your eyes to focus, blinking once, twice, three times to shake the sleep away, your eyes scan the words ‘let’s fuck’ embellished on the ring and you realise just who’s room you’re sleeping in. And just like that, the events of the previous night come flooding back.

The break-up, the drinking, the dares, the karaoke, and finally, the absolutely mindblowing sex with Daniel. The sex which had lasted almost all night, or all morning, with the two of you only settling into sleep around 4am when you insisted that you would be too tired the next day had you continued. And Daniel, whose bed you were currently sleeping in, and who had just begun to stir beside you.

He groans, rolling over to face you, his eyes not yet opened as he brings the sheets up to his chin. Does he even know you’re there? Does he remember what you did last night?

You attempt to make your escape, wrapping one of the decorative sheets from the bed around your naked form, attempting to make the least noise possible as you slowly stand from the bed.

“And where do you think you’re going?” You hear Daniel say behind you.

You turn to him, noticing his eyes are still closed and the sheets are still tightly wrapped around his body.

“Usually after hooking up with someone, it’s common etiquette to make a swift exit the next morning.” You say, bending to retrieve your discarded underwear from the previous night.

“What if I don’t want you to leave just yet?” Daniel questions once again, sliding himself up against the headboard, letting the sheets drop to his waist to expose his tanned chest.

“Then you’ll have to convince me to stay.” You say, a wicked smirk on your face as you take a few steps over to the bed.

Daniel beckons you to join him, and you throw yourself down into the creased white sheets, crawling towards him. You settle in beside him and rest your head on his chest.

“I could do that thing again, the thing you really really liked last night.” Daniel asks, his eyebrow raised as he looks down at you.

“Which thing? There were many things I liked.” You respond, and he chuckles.

“I’d do them all again in alphabetical order if I could just to hear you moan the way you did last night, but that would take all day, and I have a flight to catch at noon.” He says.

“Well, how about we start at A and see how far through the alphabet we can get? We can always pick up where we left off some other time?” You say, eyebrows raised.

“Sounds like a plan.” Daniel says, pulling you onto his lap.

“So, A…” he says, his lips brushing yours as he speaks.

“We definitely didn’t do that last night, Daniel.”

[bklynmusicnerd]

I'm currently fighting a battle against going full "Bah Humbug" to this holiday season, but nevertheless we are going to get into these latest GH Petty Politics results!

This is going to be a long roundup because I did more polls than usual because I weirdly felt bad about how boring these last few weeks of GH have been.

Considering the present state of the show is actually pretty dire thanks to a deeply misguided EP, let's start off with what moratorium you all think GH needs more? The results were actually not close at all as 70.8% of you said:

Violet's random ass song aside, the consensus is clear. The majority are sick of 90% of the dialogue revolving around how the only thing that matters in this world is having babies. Imagine that 😒. To quote my mom, "The songs only last a couple of minutes, those babies take forever to disappear!"

29.2% of you, though, do think all the corny singing is becoming a problem. You signed up for a soap, not Glee.

And along those lines, when asked what you find edgier and more exciting during this holiday season, 84.2% of you said Hallmark Christmas movies officially have more buzz than anything happening on GH right now.

I don't watch Hallmark, so I have no way of verifying this. I made it an option cause I was feeling snarky after that terrible Friday ep, but I suspect this is the truth. From what I'm told, the heroines on those Hallmark movies do sometimes get to discuss things other than babies or when they'll have them, so that's something.

Onto the poll that surprisingly got the most buzz: What do you think of Curtis' ableist Christmas miracle paralysis reversal?

43.2% of you agreed that it is a lazy and offensive conclusion to a poorly done disability story, and that's because it is! Curtis' paralysis was played as a cheap ploy to get quick sympathy for him and in the process promoted the idea that all the lives of the disabled amount to is what they can't do.

Anyways, here's an article on why the "miracle cure" trope is offensive as shit and gross to write in 2023:

38.5% of you could give a shit about Curtis or his terrible storyline and just want to know where Trina's real father, Taggert is? A question that likely won't be answered until next year (but keep hope alive 🥲)

19.2% of you are in an optimistic mood and are open to this story at least having the upside of a potential testing fiasco which clears Trina of these Ashford charges once and for all (again...keep hope alive 🥲).

And a total of 0% of you are happy for Curtis to receive his miracle cure, and honestly...I've never felt prouder looking at a result. There's something really beautiful about us all coming together in the name of having no time for Curtis, I'm tearing up as I type this.

Moving onto the latest Kraze (😉) in GH pairings. I really wanted to know what you guys thought of Kristina and Blaze moving forward at the same time as this surrogacy plot that will not die.

50% of you said that you were too devastated by another pairing already being dragged down by the baby agenda, to put yourself in Blaze's shoes. As a Trina fan, believe me, I get it, and my heart goes out to you guys. The wlw delegation deserved better than this smh

29.2% of you said you would absolutely stay romantically interested in Kristina through her surrogacy story if you were Blaze. Which regardless of how realistic, is actually very sweet and probably exactly what GH will have Blaze do because baby agenda always wins out 😒.

20.8% of you said you'd probably have to dip if you were Blaze cause that's way too much way too soon and I have to say I'm inclined to agree with you guys. I can't imagine starting a relationship with someone who's about to carry a baby but I guess we're going to see what that looks like 🤷🏿‍♀️.

Speaking of "fuck them kids", a certain demon spawn was finally shown the door this week and I wanted your thoughts on Trina's status as a potential accidental homewrecker, and whether or not you gave a shit that Spencer's domestic era is over.

On the Trina homewrecking front:

47.8% of you said, yes, our girl technically qualifies as the cutest accidental homewrecker ever and you think she's a hero for demolishing the Jerry Springer household by simply choosing herself.

39.1% of you think Trina's homewrecking status is irrelevant because Laura's home was simply a training ground for the real home Spencer is already planning in his head with Trina.

And 13% of you, like my mom, think I play too much and that Trina is not a homewrecker and there's nothing funny about the suggestion! And to that I say: 😛

As for Spencer's domestic mourning period (🤢), I'm proud to report that the majority of you (57.9%) have no time for the fake sympathy for Spencer. You can be honest and admit that this story was bad, you're happy this form of it is over and you're hopeful that he can burn the diaper bags and return to dark princedom once again.

26.3% of you do feel bad for Spencer but uh, not enough to mourn this baby nonsense with him.

And 15.8% of you are actually going to miss Spencer the Manny. I can't really relate to such an emotion, but I admire the bravery of being open about your bad taste in storylines.

Setting crybaby Spencer to the side, let's talk about the real Cassadine youth doing real Cassadine things, Charlotte!

In true Cassadine form, Charlotte has the people divided. 34.8% of you agree with Valentin and are proud of Charlotte for her mess. But 34.8% of you also aren't sure about anything except that Anna should have slapped Valentin again (I agree). 30.4% of you are not down with Charlotte's shenanigans and think Valentin is nuts for being this passive.

The people are thoroughly split on Miss Charlotte Cassadine, which means she's doing wonderfully 😘.

Bringing crybaby Spencer back to the front again because it's time to discuss our favorite new pill popper on the canvas, Adam!

I really wanted to know if people were as into the Adam and Spencer friendship idea as @anyathefandom and I and I'm pleased to report the results are hilarious:

54.5% of you think we are nuts for trying to play friendship matchmaker with Spencer and a guy who's about to OD on pills and you know what, that's fair! Maybe our priorities seem a little odd as this kid tweaks about test scores! But we all know the powers of nepotism will save him from anything fatal, so I think some of you need to ease up on the judgment!

36.4% of you are here for the Spencer/Adam friendship idea. You're ready for Spencer to move on from Cali Cam and get a friend that's actually in the same town as him. You also recognize that it's either this or a forced Spencer and Dex friendship, and the lesser evil is pretty obvious here.

9.1% of you have no faith in Spencer's socialization skills and think it's a waste of time to hope he'll get a new friend. You think Spencer will never outgrow his "no new friends" phase, and you might just be right. Depressing but right.

And to save the funniest result for last. No, seriously, I saw this result and immediately lost it.

When asked what do you think will happen first, Adam OD'ing or Dex finally getting a real personality besides sex robot, 100% of you said Adam's inevitable OD is coming before Dex's personality. Because the only thing you guys have less faith in than Spencer's socialization skills, is Dex's character development.

I wanted to save that result for last because that's actually our first unanimous GH Petty Politics result and I love that it was as funny as it was disrespectful ❤️.

And so concludes another round of GH Petty Politics. Once again, you guys are hilarious and your participation is always appreciated!

[lenniharrisonsims]

Sooo I thought about just answering this and having fun thinking about what each cover would be like, but then thinking about it turned into too much fun, and I decided to actually just make the covers. It took over a week cause my computer is slow but I had fun so, I don't care that I'm posting late 😅

(Shout out to @bridgeportbritt who had the same idea and posted hers first😉 we love ❤)

I really enjoyed doing research into reach magazine's aesthetics, layouts, fonts, and types of poses their cover models usually do. It was a really interesting experiment and honestly would love to do something like this again.

Vogue: Ophelia

I feel like I'm always trying to find the balance between giving Ophelia a unique style that's entirely hers, and also keeping it somewhat aligned with the arbitrary "protocol" rules I have in my head for how royals should dress. So I let her be a true fashionista and rock the cover of Vogue 😉

Sports Illustrated: Kacie

Aside from the swimsuit covers that have ladies in bikinis, (which I feel like didn't really fit any of my characters) SI features current athletes in action in whatever field it is that they are professionals in. The only active athlete I have in my story is Countess Kacie, who is still a member of the Royal Ballet.

Time: Kat

This felt obvious. Time's Person of the Year issue is always talked about, and the British royals (who are heavy inspiration for my story) have been featured numerous times. So it felt like the obvious choice to put Kat, the Simsdom's first ever female ruler, and the Person of the Year.

People: Lulu & Leo

While People has a mix of uplifting and negative stories about the Royal Family, the majority were positive, and most featured "inside scoops" of their daily lives. There was one in particular that featured the Prince and Princess of Wales right after they had Princess Charlotte that talked about their "lovely little family" that I drew inspiration from here.

Forbes: Yue

Forbes "30 Under 30" is also a popular issue looked forward to every year, so I started there, and of course my mind immediately went to Yue, who's been innovating in the digital design space, and who won Creator of the Year in my story so.... I couldn't not put Yue on Forbes. It's where she belongs 😉

Women's Health: Megan

Megan felt like another obvious choice for Women's Health, because a lot of the articles featured on the covers were about healthy recipes, workout plans, and "how to lose weight fast!" and while I don't find that to be a particularly healthy mindset, I thought the best way to go about it would be to feature an actual Doctor. Megan is a pediatric surgeon, not a dietition, but she knows a thing or two about keeping your body healthy lol

Men's Health: Matt

For Men's Health, a lot of the cover models were older gentlemen, late 30s/40s and up, so instead of featuring one of the young guys in my story, I decided to use the Empire's Dad 😉😂 one of his in-game traits is athletic, and every time I open my game, he's working out or swimming, so I've just had in my head that when he's not on engagements for the Empire, he's in the gym, keeping his body fit lol.

Us Weekly: Ben & Taylor

Just like how People Magazine's covers about the Royals tended toward positive, Us Weekly's covers about Royals in particular more often than not tended toward the negative. So I decided to throw in a scandalous tabloid cover that discusses some definitely untrue rumors about Ben and Taylor. Or are they? 👀

Anyways, this was so much fun to do, thank you so much for including me in this ask. Genuinely this was a blast, and I'm really proud of my work 🥰

[sweetporcelain13]

with all due respect, this is not specifically against you, but how many times are we going into this phase of "Jimin and Jungkook are distant"/"they’re not as close as they use to be"? I’ve seen this so. many. times. and then something drops and they still as close as usual... only international armys are making all sorts of theories about them not being friends or a couple anymore, i lurk on k-kookminers and the atmosphere is different. If you changed your mind about them it’s perfectly fine but why does it always end up in criticizing a member of the ship? For some it’s JK who’s not behaving like the passionate lover they would like him to be- I never understand the arguments against him, maybe coz he is the member I relate to the most. like some see him as completely whipped for JM but some think he’s cold or not demonstrative enough, how come?. Same for the way some ppl perceive Jimin as completely love sick and clingy and others think he’s giving up on JK.it’s just so weird. Everybody is seeing things with their own standards and what they’re waiting for in a relationship. I wish more of us could learn and understand Korean (i’m just at an intermediate level but stil)- there are dramas in the k side as well but for the most part it seems way more peaceful and k armys and kookminers trust the members and JM and JK. idk I just find it sad how it’s all about overthinking and constant speculation around the maknae line behavior since last June.. I can’t wait for Jimin to drop his music, at least it may bring some fun. again this isn’t specifically against you and I hope I’m not being too harsh but it makes me sad to see some armys criticizing the members just for a ship :/

Read the red parts to get over this post

My fellow jikooker, I am excited to see you 😁

hallo 🙋

Let me just start by saying, I also think this ☝️ way in general. But that doesn't mean, I don't get other side of thoughts in my head. BTS being diplomats pushes my thinking capabilities to diplomatic side too. 😉

The "phase" never went away because many things that have been questioned aren't answered to yet. It doesn't need to be answered too. It kinda gives the space to bloggers like me to have discussions. I'm just criticizing the online presence of members because that is what they have made us part of in their lives (other than music ofc). That too I'm saying with pinch of salt because as I said, my opinions do change with the perspective. Just taking advantage of my human brain ☺️. I try my best to share my opinions diplomatically. I guess that's why I am getting all sorted and sanely written asks in my box. Khamsamida 💜

I get your point though. In general, there's a lot of fluctuations in the jikook spaces. One of many things that inspired me to open this blog. Irrespective of that, my thoughts doesn't come out of personal hatred. My funda is simple here, if I love them I will also point out the areas they need to work on. (As if they read and care about my blog 🤣). Here's to hoping that the people show criticism in a better way than sheer cut hatred and malicious language.

And Yes! Waiting for JM album! And all the other works to be...

Thanks for the ask 😊

- signed

[wenellyb]

Random thoughts on fatphobia in the MCU fandoms

Namor

I would have never thought Namor belonged in this discussion but apparently anybody who hasn't chiseled abs isn't "in shape"...

There's a Marvel artist who made a body-shaming post saying that there was a mistake somewhere because that Namor isn't as in shape as he should ne. And I've actually seen several other negative comments about Namor's look and especially this scene and I can't believe how much society and blockbusters has done irreparable damage if you believe for one second there is anything wrong with his body. When I look at this picture I see a good looking actor who's probably going to nail it as Namor, but apparently some people had comments to make about his body. You'd rather see actors who dehydrate themselves and are on the verge of fainting just to have a scene with a six-pack?? Why???

Phastos

There wasn't too much fatphobia directed at Phastos because he was simply ignored by the fandom....I have never seen something like that. For a fandom that claimed that all they were waiting for representation only to ignore the first and only canon openly Gay superhero in the MCU was unbelievable. And of course, racism plays a major role in this, but so does fatphobia. If I compare it to the Sambucky ship that was still considered "a small ship" in 2016 after Civil War aired, there was still so much more content, fics, Fanart and posts even thought Sam and Bucky had only shared 2 scenes together (that lasted less than a minute). And I'm not putting the blame on fanartists or fic writers for the lack of Phastos content, because they can't create content if the fandom is barely there to begin with. I don't feel like creating content for it either, because the fandom is pretty much dead.

And it's not a problem of screentime because Phastos had as much screentime as the other Eternals characters and him and his husbnad had as much screentime as Sambucky in Civil War, or other popular MCU ships with bigger fandoms and yet...

Thor

Let me tell you, I may have been the only one in this but when I saw Thor in Endgame, I was happy they had went to a more natural/normal look for a superhero for once... I thought it was realistic (and even though I've never been a fan of fatsuits I didn't mind the storyline) and I loved that they didn't make him lose weight by the end of the movie, but rather showed his journey to finding himself again but that journey wasn't focused on losing weight but finding his worth again, gaining hope,...

So let me tell you how surprised I was when I came to Tumblr, and Twitter after the movie to only see comments about how "they had ruined the character and messed UP all his progress"....interesting to know that some people view a character gaining weight as him being ruined.. And don't get me wrong, I understand being mad at the fat jokes in the movie, and it's important to call that out, but the comments weren't about that.... A lot of people weren't upset about the fat jokes or the fatsuit, but by how Thor looked ... They were very transparent and the reactions just shocked me.

[skvatnavle]

Luckiest man alive

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Warnings: Pregnant reader, SMUT! fingering, penetrative sex, fluff and a little surprise 😉

Notes: It's maybe a little OOC for Jake, but it had to be written after my soft talk with @mmurdock85 😉

And once again a huge thank you to @a-reader-and-a-writer for beta reading and for lending me her dividers. Couldn't do this without you, Vee 💜

Oh, and it takes place a few years after the movie.

Words: a little shy of 2K

Opening the door to the little house near the base, he breathes a sigh of relief. Finally home. He walks past Charlie, snoring loudly on his little doggy bed. One leg twitching, like he’s chasing something, but he doesn’t wake up as Jake walks past.

“I’m cutting down on your treats. You’re the worst guard dog ever.”

“Hey, even the toughest guys need a break.”

He looks to the side and see you standing there, a wide smile on your beautiful face. How is it even possible for you to get more beautiful for each passing day? 

“Hey sweetheart.”

He tries to give his best smile, but he knows you can tell something is wrong. You’re the one person who knows him the best, who can always see through all his bullshit. You cup his face, your thumbs gently caressing his cheeks.

“Are you okay, Jake?”

“Yeah, it's fine.”

He tries to shrug it off, still smiling. No need to make you worry. You always concern yourself too much and it’s usually because of him, whether it’s a mission or if he has made a new enemy.

“I know you. What is it?”

He reaches up and gently takes your hands in his, rubbing the back of your hands with his thumbs. Sighing, he looks up into your eyes, full of worry.

“I got into a… discussion and things turned a little heated. But I was right, and you know I-”

“You have to be the best.”

He just nods. You know him. Even knew him when he was at his, what some would say, worst. Maybe he could be an asshole at times, but he had the credentials to back it up. Recently made Commander and the only man in active duty to have shot down three enemy aircrafts, he knew he was good. Hell, he was more than good, he was the best. But honestly, he dialed it down the last few years. Today this new guy Jackal just got to him, and he lost it for a split second.

“But this was different. He… He called me an asshole.”

He always acts tough, but around you there’s no need. You always see right through it. But that’s one of the things he loves about you. With you, he can be himself. Still, he can’t help but feel that maybe Jackal was right. He looks up into your eyes.

“Why do you put up with me?”

“Because” you remove your hands from his and cradle his face, placing a soft kiss on his lips, “You may be too confident for your own good and, I’m sorry honey, a jackass at work. But you always leave Hangman at the base. Here… You’re just my Jake.”

You pull him into your arms, giving him a much-needed hug. He really didn’t deserve you, but he was thankful you thought so.

“My sweet and caring Jake who happens to be a pretty good cook and a damn fine lover.”

“Only ‘Damn fine’?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow at you. 

“Okay, okay. You’re the best.”

He pumps his fist in the air and gives you that signature Hangman smirk. The smirk you never seem to be able to resist. He cups your cheek, giving you a soft kiss, but it’s still enough to make you moan against him. He can never get enough of you, but luckily you feel the same.

“I love you, Mrs. Seresin.”

“And I love you, Commander Seresin. And he does too.”

You look down and softly caress your bump. At 5 months pregnant, the bump is really starting to show more for each passing day. Especially in the new dresses you had- wait… Did you just say?

“Wait… he?!”

You cringe, looking sorry as you apologetically throw up your hands, when you see the shock on his face. But soon the shock is replaced by pure joy. He’s not even mad, just so excited to get a boy.

“I’m so sorry. The doctor asked and I… I caved. You know I have no backbone.”

“Yeah, I know. Took me next to nothing to get you into bed.”

You punch his shoulder. He just grins, pulling you into his embrace. Cupping your face, his beautiful blue eyes find yours.

“And luckily you never left.”

He kisses you softly, before moving his hands move down to caress your bump. The feeling of love is almost overwhelming, almost scary. He gives you a huge smile, as his eyes shine with joy.

“A boy…”

“Yeah, another Seresin man to torture me.”

Jake can already picture the little boy running around, being a menace. Unable to stop smiling, he gives you another soft kiss, looking at the bump again.

He then looks up to the little chain around your neck. Tracing the metal with his fingers before taking it off of you. There is a wedding ring in it that he gently takes off the chain and put it on. Curiously, you trace the gold band on his finger, before looking into his eyes.

“Why do you always leave your ring with me?”

“I leave my heart here every day. Might as well let you guard my ring too.”

And he really does. Leave his heart with you every day. You’re the only woman who’s ever made him feel this way and he could never imagine living without you. Moving his hand up to cup the back of your head, he pulls you closer until his lips meet yours. The kiss starts out soft, but as he deepens it, he pours every ounce of his love into it. The love for you and the love for your unborn child. Breaking away, he rests his forehead against yours, smiling wide. You giggle softly, your hands coming to rest on his chest.

“That was such a cheesy line.”

“Not as cheesy as the first one I used on you.”

“God, don’t remind me.” Giggling softly, you waddle away towards the kitchen, but he grabs your hand, stopping you. No way he would let you strain yourself.

“Nah, darling. Let me.”

You sit down on a stool by the counter as Jake gets to work in the kitchen. Taking out the vegetables, he begins chopping as he feels your eyes on him. He was a horrible cook when you first met, but he soon learned how much you loved food and even more how much you loved watching him work in the kitchen. 

So he practiced. Watched countless episodes of MasterChef and failed numerous times, but like everything else in his life, he worked hard and became the best. Well, maybe not the best in this field, but pretty damned close.

“So, we gotta start talking baby names.” he says softly, looking at you over his shoulder, before he resumes chopping some onions. 

“I actually have an idea. How about Bradley?”

Jake turns slowly and points the knife playfully at you, putting on a fake angry face.

“Over my dead body. I like the guy, but hell no,” he pauses, turning slowly to put the knife down. “Could you imagine if the kid grows up and wants a mustache like that?”

He shudders before laughing. Over the years, he’d actually come to like Rooster. Would even call him a good friend. But no way in hell he’d name his kid after him. Rooster would never let him hear the end of it.

“Well, you give me one then.”

Oh, he knows you’ll hate it, but since you wanna tease, he’ll tease you right back. 

“Isn’t it obvious? Jake junior.”

“Oh, I love that. But only if he gets my name as his middle name.” you shoot back sarcastically, trying to keep a straight face, but he can see the way the corner of your mouth twitches softly. 

“Hmm, not Jake then.”

He winks and returns to cut up some bell peppers. As he works on the food, you talk back and forth about names. Throwing another name at you, he walks to the fridge and takes out a beer and some soda, giving the latter to you. Placing a soft kiss on your hair, he returns to the cutting board.

“Oh, by the way. Bob’s coming over for dinner.”

It’s been a while since he saw Bob last, seeing as he’s been on an assignment overseas. Apparently, he was stateside again and back in Lemoore. Suddenly, it hits Jake. He looks at you, smiling.

“What do you think about Robert?”

Confused, you frown as you look at him. 

“What do I think about him? I love him… Isn’t that a dumb question? He’s my brother.”

“No, I… I meant for the baby.”

A huge grin spreads on your face as you realize what he just said. Jake can’t help but smile when he sees how happy you look.

“You’d wanna name him after Bob?”

Jake lays down the knife, before walking over to you. Turning the chair so you’re facing him, he gives you a sweet smile as his hands land on your thighs, caressing them softly.

“Why not? The best damn fighter pilot as a dad and named after his uncle, the best WSO there ever was. He’ll be top of his class in no time.”

“Yeah, easy there, Hangman. Maybe he wants to follow in my footsteps.”

He just smirks. You rarely use his callsign, but he loves it when you do. He gives your thighs a gentle squeeze, not failing to notice how the touch makes you squirm.

“Nah, with that legacy, that kid will be a legend.”

“If he’s anything like his dad, he’ll be the best.”

You bite your lip, giving him an innocent look. But Jake knows there’s nothing innocent about it. He looks at his watch, before looking deep into your eyes while moving his hands under your dress, slowly moving his hands up your thighs.

“How long before Bob gets here?”

“An hour.”

You answer, breathing already strained. Moving his hands down under your thighs, he lifts you up onto the counter in one swift move with a huge, exaggerated groan, as if he just lifted a ton. You punch his shoulder.

“You are an asshole.”

“Yeah, but I’m your asshole.”

He smirks before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. After removing your dress, he stops to take you in. Even now, as you slowly get bigger and softer, you’ve never been more gorgeous, sexier. Leaning in, he kisses down the column of your neck, pulling sweet moans from you. 

He moves down to your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth. Throwing your head back, you whimper his name. They’re already so sensitive, so he can’t even imagine what it’ll be like when the baby comes. His free hand finds your core, already soaking wet for him.

“Fuck Jake, just… Please just fuck me. I need you.”

Making quick work of his belt and pants, he strokes himself a few times before pushing into you. And as he does, he looks at your face, eyes closed in pure ecstasy. You’re truly a beautiful sight and you really make him the happiest man alive.

Thank you so much for reading <3

Tagging: @loverhymeswith @lucy-sky @fictionalnerdery @green-socks @srry-itshockeyszn @jakelcckley @blindedbyyourgrace17 @joalsglasses @sparrows-corner @multifandom-fangirl4 @lluckpng @autumnleaves1991-reads @chasingdreamer @edwardbaldwin @wildbornsiren @weasleywinchester @mayhem24-7forever

[tinylittleobsessions]

What if “Narcos: México” characters took the MBTI test?

So... Here I am again. I had fun a few weeks ago writing about how I imagine each "Narcos: México" character could represent each zodiac sign - and some of you had fun reading it too! So now I'm back with a new idea: what personality type would each "Narcos: México" character get on the MBTI test?  👀

If you don't know this test, it's a personality test based on a theory written by Carl Gustav Jung that divides people in 16 different types of personalities. The personalities are defined by different combinations of letters that represent specific aspects of our behaviour and way of thinking: "I" for "Introverted", for example, "T" for "Thinking", "J" for "Judging", and so it goes. This way, your result will be something like "ENTJ", or "ISFP".

This test is not universally accepted as scientific, true or correct, BUT, as in the case of zodiac signs, I think it's a lot of fun, hahaha. 🤣 If you don't know your MBTI yet, you can take the test here.

SO, wich MBTI profile would correspond to each "Narcos: México" character? My "methodology" here was the following: I took every MBTI profile and thought about wich character it reminded me more of. A few of them were a bit... off: I couldn't really find any character that seemed like an INFP to me; and there were a few characters I could see in more than one profile (Amado, for example, is always giving me trouble when I try to define him, wich I think is very telling about him 🤣). I think that, for the nature of the show itself, “Narcos: México” features more characters that fit in the Analysts and Explorers types; the Diplomats were much harder to find.

EDITED: I added Pablo Acosta as an INFP, as @criatividad-e​ suggested. I still think "Narcos: México" doesn't feature any TRUE INFP, but I think Acosta is in fact the closer to that we can get. As @criatividad-e​ said, "he is empathic, sensible and has that thing about keeping his community united". 😉

I have to say I LOVE character study and discussing character personalities in detail, that's why I love writing this kind of post... AND lately we've been having very interesting debates about Ramón Arellano Félix and his specific personality traits ( @ducavalentinos and @curaheed shared some very interesting thoughts about it  👌 😆), so I can see I'm not the only one who loves this kind of conversation.  😌 👀 As always, I’ll add I’m pretty aware a lot of this comes from headcanon, and, for my headcanons, you can blame @thesolotomyhan​ (if you’re not reading her stuff yet, go do it asap).  😌🤐

Let's examine each of them, shall we?

The Analysts

Miguel Ángel Félix Gallardo - The Architect (INTJ- Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking and Judging)

Ambitious and determined

Extremely smart

Rational, always plan ahead

Self-confident; but rather cynical about other people's abilities/skills

Like to be alone and don't feel very comfortable with social events or small talk

Critical

See themselves as more intelligent than other people (and they're usually right, lol)

May be arrogant or at least seen as arrogant by other people

Andrea Nuñez - The Logician (INTP - Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking and Prospecting)

Curiosity and creativity; open-minded

Hardly ever stops thinking; often lose themselves in thought

Pensive, detached, and a bit reserved

Perfectionistic

Tend to get tired out by extensive socializing

Love to analyze patterns

Lying to them is a bad idea

May change their minds quickly

Can overthink even the smallest of decisions

David Barrón Corona - The Commander (ENTJ - Extraverted, Intuitive, Thinking and Judging)

Natural-born leaders

Efficient, energetic, strong-willed

Charisma, confidence and authority

Drive, determination and sharp mind

Ruthless level of rationality

Ability to think strategically

Love a good challenge

Have a particular skill in recognizing the talents of others

Stubborn and dominant, sometimes intolerant

Joaquín “El Chapo” Guzmán - The Debater (ENTP (Extraverted, Intuitive, Thinking and Prospecting)

Knowledgeable, quick thinker

Original and charismatic

The ultimate devil's advocate

Takes a certain pleasure in being the underdog

Love to brainstorm and think big, but will avoid getting caught doing the "grunt work"

Unyielding honesty: doesn't mince words and cares little about being seen as sensitive or compassionate

The Diplomats

Kiki Camarena - The Advocate (INFJ - Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling and Judging)

Deep thoughtfulness and imagination

Their inner vision, personal values, and a quiet, principled version of humanism guide them in all things

Deep sense of idealism and integrity

Feel compelled to find a mission for their lives

Strive to do what's right and want to help create a world where others do the right thing as well

Typically care more about altruism than personal gain

Aspire to fix society’s deeper problems

May feel that they aren't allowed to rest until they've achieved their goals

Pablo Acosta - The Mediator (INFP - Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling and Prospecting)

As suggested by @criatividad-e​. 😉😌

Idealistic, generous and empathetic

Creative and imaginative, they happily lose themselves in daydreams

Compassionate and nonjudgmental

Known for their sensitivity; can have profound emotional responses to music, art, nature, and the people around them

Long for deep, soulful relationships; feel called to help others

Can be vulnerable to internalizing other people's negative moods or mindsets

Self-critical and sometimes desperate to please

Maria Elvira - The Protagonist (ENFJ - Extraverted, Intuitive, Feeling and Judging)

Thoughtful, idealistic and reliable

Feels called to serve a greater purpose in life

Born leaders; full of passion and charisma; persuasive and inspiring

Tend to be vocal about their values, including authenticity and altruism

Motivated by a sincere wish to do the right thing rather than a desire to manipulate or have power over other people

Eloquence and sensitivity

Amado Carillo Fuentes - The Campaigner (ENFP - Extraverted, Intuitive, Feeling and Prospecting)

True free spirits; outgoing, openhearted, open-minded

Friendly

Independent and creative; full of curiosity and imagination

Tend to embrace big ideas and actions that reflect their sense of hope and goodwill toward others

Spend a lot of time exploring different relationships, feelings, and ideas before they find a path for their lives that feels right

Sometimes struggle with self-discipline and consistency

The Sentinels

Enedina Arellano Félix - The Logistician (ISTJ - Introverted, Observant, Thinking and Judging)

Reserved yet willful

Rational outlook on life; no-nonsense

Compose their actions carefully and carry them out with methodical purpose

Integrity, practical logic and tireless dedication to duty

When they say they are going to get something done, they do it; meeting their obligations no matter the personal cost

Responsible, calm and practical

Often prefer to work alone; prefer autonomy and self-sufficiency to reliance on someone or something else

Don't make assumptions: analyze their surroundings, check their facts and arrive at practical courses of action

Tend to keep their opinions to themselves and let the facts do the talking

Have little tolerance for indecisiveness

May struggle to express emotion or affection outwardly

Walt Breslin - The Defender (ISFJ - Introverted, Observant, Feeling and Judging)

I could kinda see Victor Tapia in this profile too.

Unassuming, steady

Supportive, loyal and hard-working

Efficient and responsible

True altruists

Though sensitive, Defenders have excellent analytical abilities and excellent memory

They take their responsibilities personally, consistently going above and beyond

Are often meticulous to the point of perfectionism

Have a tendency to underplay their accomplishments

Take things too personally; repress their feelings

Jaime Kuykendall - The Executive (ESTJ - Extraverted, Observant, Thinking and Judging)

Often serve as a stabilizing force among others, able to offer solid direction amid adversity

Honesty, dedication and dignity

Happily lead the way on difficult paths

Lead by example, demonstrating dedication and purposeful honesty

Reject laziness and cheating

Are more than willing to dive into the most challenging projects

Live in a world of clear, verifiable facts

Classic image of the model citizen: they help their neighbors, uphold the law, and try to make sure that everyone participates in the community

Inflexible and stubborn

Benjamín Arellano Félix -  The Consul (ESFJ - Extraverted, Observant, Feeling and Judging)

I could kinda see Héctor Palma in this profile too.

Attentive and people-focused; they tend to be very dear to everyone they meet

Supportive and outgoing

Do well in social events and aren't afraid of the spotlight

Concerned with their social status and the standings of other people

Very loyal

Love to be of service, enjoying any role that allows them to participate in a meaningful way - so long as they know that they are valued and appreciated

It's easy for their feelings to be hurt if their ideas are rejected, or if people just aren't interested

The Explorers

Ismael “El Mayo” Zambada - The Virtuoso (ISTP - Introverted, Observant, Thinking and Prospecting)

Tend to have an individualistic mindset, pursuing goals without needing much external connection

Cool rationalism and spirited curiosity

Love to explore with their hands and their eyes

Learn from their environment as they go

Natural makers, moving from project to project

Extremely curious, but unable to stay focused on formal studies

Explore ideas through creating, troubleshooting, trial and error and first-hand experience

Friendly but very private; calm but spontaneous

Struggle with boundaries and guidelines, preferring the freedom to move about and color outside the lines

Easily bored

Accept retaliation, good or bad, as "fair play"

Pacho Herrera - The Adventurer (ISFP - Introverted, Observant, Feeling and Prospecting)

Use aesthetics, design and even their choices and actions to push the limits of social convention

Enjoy upsetting traditional expectations with experiments in beauty and behavior

Live in a colorful, sensual world, inspired by connections with people and ideas

Enjoy connecting with others, and have a certain irresistible charm

Unpredictable and fiercely independent

When faced with criticism, it can be a challenge for people with this type to step away from the moment long enough to not get caught up in the heat of the moment: they can lose their tempers in spectacular fashion

May develop a self-centered identity, acting with selfishness, manipulation and egoism

Ramón Arellano Félix - The Entrepreneur (ESTP - Extraverted, Observant, Thinking and Prospecting)

Bold and original; impatient and defiant; full of passion and energy

Inspiring, convincing and colorful, they are natural group leaders

They are the likeliest personality type to make a lifestyle of risky behavior

Live in the moment and dive into the action: they are the eye of the storm

Leap before they look, fixing their mistakes as they go

Love to be the center of attention; always have an impact on their immediate surroundings

Enjoy drama, passion and pleasure

Use their own moral compass: rules were made to be broken

May get too caught in the moment, take things too far, and run over more sensitive people (or forget to take care of their own health and safety)

Are a force to be reckoned with (if they are able to minimize the trouble-making)

Rafa Quintero - The Entertainer (ESFP - Extraverted, Observant, Feeling and Prospecting)

Utterly social, Entertainers enjoy the simplest things, and there’s no greater joy for them than just having fun with a good group of friends

Love the spotlight, and all the world's a stage

Love vibrant experiences, engaging in life eagerly and taking pleasure in discovering the unknown

Get caught up in the excitement of the moment, and want everyone else to feel that way, too

Naturally curious, exploring new designs and styles with ease; they have an eye for fashion

Observant and very sensitive

They are often so focused on immediate pleasures that they neglect the duties and responsibilities that make those luxuries possible: they'd rather rely on luck or opportunity, or simply ask for help from their circle of friends

More focused on leaping at opportunities than in planning out long-term goals

Bold and easily bored

[adiwriting]

So I had big plans of finishing my next smutty installment to the Alex Manes is a Bad Boyfriend (but a Phenomenal Husband) series in time for Malex Week Day 4: Smut Day... But it's been a DAY and I'm already 10k into this fic and there's no end in sight. So rather than post the entire thing like planned... I'm gonna post about 3k of one of the smutty parts as a tease and will post the entire thing to AO3 when it's done.

Warnings for sexting and infidelity

****

Alex Manes is a Horribly Boyfriend (excerpt)

He pushes his way past a sea of sequins and glitter that just remind him how much this isn’t his scene and finally manages to make his way to the bathroom. The moment he’s in a stall with the door locked behind him, he pulls his phone out of his pocket to see that he’s missed 12 texts from Michael.

He’s such a fucking menace, Alex thinks to himself as he smiles and opens up the string of missed texts.

Michael 8:43pm: Sad we didn’t get to watch the sunset together, but Maria says you’re coming out tonight. Can’t wait 😉

Michael 8:43pm: And if you’re wondering… I wore that white sweater you’re so fond of.

Michael 8:44pm: Kind of hoping you’ll destroy it. Make a real mess… It’s been too long.

Michael 8:49pm: [Image attached]

Michael 8:49pm: Figured I’d give you a little preview.

The picture of Michael is good. He looks as sexy as he ever has, possibly even more. Alex’s eyes roam over the scruff that’s getting longer, promising some pleasurable beard burn in his future. His curls are also longer than usual, falling into his face and begging to be fisted as Alex directs those sinful lips of his to his dick.

Fuck, Alex is already getting hard as his eyes fall to Michael’s, that are nearly black with lust. Michael’s not wrong either about the effect that white sweater always has when he notices the background.

Alex zooms in on the photo to find a rather large dildo sitting on his bed next to a bottle of lube and some used tissues that leaves little to the imagination. Alex bites his lip to hold back a moan even as his heart clinches in longing. While Alex had been stuck with Forrest all afternoon, he’d missed out on an opportunity to be the one to bring Michael to orgasm.

Pictures like this were fun when he was on the road and couldn’t have Michael. The way Michael would tease him with detailed texts and pictures or the occasional video, discussing how he always jerked himself off to thoughts of Alex? It was intoxicating. And Alex was always sure to reward Michael with pictures of his own. But Alex isn’t on the other side of the country anymore and this isn’t fun. This hurts.

Alex is right here in Roswell and that orgasm was supposed to be Alex’s. It would have been Alex’s if only Forrest had stuck to the original plan to meet up with Alex at the Pony when he got off work.

Alex looks back down at the picture and tries to push down his anger at Forrest and focus instead on how sexy Michael looks. After all, Alex is back for good and he and Michael have all the time in the world. Their orgasms don’t have to be rushed anymore. There’s nothing hanging over their heads anymore. No Jesse Manes to look out for. No Project Shepherd to fear. No more deployments in his future. They have time.

Michael 9:12pm: Where are you? Maria said you were supposed to get here by 8?

Michael 9:15pm: I want you to drag me into the bathroom and fuck me over the sink the moment you get here. Fuck whatever polite small talk you’re going to be obligated to participate in. Just fuck me as hard and fast as you can. I need you…

Michael 9:15pm: I’ve already prepped myself and everything 😏

Alex’s pants grow impossibly tighter as he imagines doing just that. Walking through the door and dragging Michael directly into the bathroom with barely more than a hello to their friends. Pulling Michael’s pants down, bending him over the sink, and burying himself into that beautiful ass of Michael’s that was made just for Alex.

Fuck, he wants that so badly.

Michael 9:17pm: God, I’ve been thinking about that big cock of yours all day. I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop myself from dropping to my knees and blowing you right here in the open for all to see…

Michael 9:18pm: I bet your boyfriend wouldn’t like that too much now would he?

Michael 9:19pm: Does he know how to blow you like I do? Does he get you off like I do? I bet he doesn’t…

Michael is right, Forrest doesn’t. He tries, but it’s hardly Forrest’s fault. Alex isn’t sure that there is a human alive that could give a blow job as well as Michael Guerin. Alex is convinced it’s a uniquely alien thing. Or perhaps even just a uniquely Michael thing. And god, does Alex want Michael’s lips around his dick tonight. He closes his eyes and pictures Michael on his knees in front of him, blowing him in the bathroom… His boyfriend on the other side of this bathroom wall, completely oblivious.

There’s something dangerous about it that Alex finds thrilling.

He unzips his pants in an attempt to find some relief as his dick grows completely hard thinking about Michael sitting there prepped and ready. His ass open and wet, waiting for Alex’s dick to slide easily inside. Alex reaches down to touch himself as he wonders if Michael is wearing those jeans of his with the indecent hole in the inner thigh that grows larger and larger every time he wears them. Last time Alex had seen them, when he’d stopped by after the funeral, the hole had been large enough for Alex to slip two fingers through it and find their way to Michael’s hole.

Alex bites back a moan and squeezes his dick tight at the memory, not wanting to get caught jerking off in the bathroom. Though he’s sure Planet 7 has seen way worse. Alex wonders if Michael even bothered with underwear today. He so rarely does.

His phone pings with a text and he looks down at his phone to see he has another message from Michael.

Michael 9:30pm: Okay, all jokes aside. Where are you? You’re making me worried.

Alex rolls his eyes, but not at Michael. If anything, Michael’s worry warms his heart… Which he tries not to read too much into because just last week a similar text from Forrest had about driven Alex up a wall. No, he’s not frustrated with Michael. He’s frustrated that he’s not at the Pony right now drinking with his friends and making plans to fuck Michael in the bathroom.

Alex presses the call button and brings his phone to his ear as his hand continues to pump himself in an attempt to tame the intense need he’s feeling.

“Hey, where are you? We’re getting worried. Maria’s about to send out a search party,” is the first thing Michael says when he picks up.

Alex sighs deeply. “I’m at Planet 7.”

Michael doesn’t respond right away. He listens for a minute or two as the sound of live music and drinking shenanigans fades into the background.

“You sound miserable,” Michael says, his tone changing in a way that tells Alex that Michael is alone, away from listening ears. There’s a softness — something unguarded and open — that only ever comes into Michael’s voice when they are in private spaces.

God, Alex loves that voice. His heart pulls painfully, demanding him to go seek it out. Needing to be wherever Michael is.

“I am miserable,” he admits.

God, he’s such a horrible boyfriend.

“Let me guess, it was Forrest’s idea?” Michael asks and when Alex doesn’t respond, Michael continues. “Well you can’t stay there all night. You haven’t seen any of us in months. Maria and Liz are demanding your attention.”

“Just Maria and Liz?” he asks, teasingly, his hand still pumping his dick though it’s lost its purpose. His need is still there but it’s more of an afterthought. Something simmering in the background.

“I’m pretty sure my demand for your attention has already been made obvious. Or did you not open my Snapchat?” Michael says, his voice dropping a whole octave, causing Alex’s dick to twitch with renewed interest.

Alex groans. He didn’t even check his Snapchat. But considering how explicit Michael’s texts tonight had been, Alex can only imagine how filthy the snap will be.

“Why don’t you tell me what you want me to do to you?” Alex says. Michael lets out a moan and Alex’s hand fists tighter around his own dick. “Tell me what you were thinking about when you used that dildo of yours today to come all over your bed.”

“Saw that did you?” Michael asks and Alex can’t help but chuckle.

“You had to know I would,” he says. “I should punish you for starting without me.”

“Wouldn’t have had to if you’d have let me drive you out to the desert like we planned,” Michael says, and though there is teasing in his voice, Alex can also hear the disappointment there. He’s about to apologize again, but Michael doesn’t give him the chance. “Tell me, did he fuck you?”

“What?” he asks, a bit taken back by the question.

“Your little boyfriend. When he picked you up, did he fuck you? Was it hard and fast like you like? Did he make you come until you cried? Was it good?” Michael asks, and while there’s no bite to his words, Alex feels every one like a stab to the heart.

“It’s not like that with him,” he admits, a bit embarrassed to do so.

Michael is quiet for a long moment. Long enough that Alex starts to grow uncomfortable and pulls his hands out of his pants, wiping off the bit of precome there on some toilet paper.

“I thought that’s what you liked,” Michael says, sounding insecure.

“It is,” he rushes to clarify, because he doesn’t want Michael to think that the desperate way they are together isn’t exactly what gets Alex off. “Trust me, I’d have rather been with you.”

He can hear Michael suck in a breath before he says. “That bad?”

Alex is about to say yes. His first instinct is to complain about how awful sex with Forrest has become, but he stops himself. Forrest isn’t bad in bed. He’s an incredibly attentive lover. He’ll spend hours kissing and touching Alex softly, almost reverently. He’s regularly asking if things are good for Alex and if he likes what Forrest is doing. He makes sure that Alex gets off every single time they are together. In terms of bed partners, Alex has had way worse than Forrest Long.

Alex isn’t sure what’s wrong with him. When Forrest had taken him home this afternoon, he’d been incredibly sweet. He’d undressed Alex slowly, kissing every last glimpse of bare skin. He’d been so attentive, lavishing Alex with praises. And sure, when Alex had rolled Forrest onto his stomach, Forrest had sat up and given him a confused, “What are you doing?” that had been more than a little frustrating. In fact, it had made him feel dirty and wrong for wanting something a little less vanilla. That’s how Forrest makes him feel a lot these days… Wrong.

But Forrest had made up for that hadn’t he? Hadn’t he taken his time really opening Alex up? Hadn’t he slowly thrust into him while reminding Alex of how deeply he was missed. Of how much he was loved? And when Forrest had come and Alex wasn’t even close, hadn’t Forrest rolled him over onto his back and given him a blow job for close to forty mintues before Alex had come?

Doesn’t it make him a horrible boyfriend to not appreciate that kind of adoration? That level of attention?

God, Alex is an asshole for even considering telling Michael that Forrest isn’t a good lover.

But Alex has always been a bit of an asshole, and Michael knows as much. Alex doesn’t have to pretend to be anything he’s not around Michael and that’s freeing.

It’s why Michael knows that Alex doesn’t want sweet. He wants complete desire. He wants pure lust. He wants somebody to rip his clothes off because unbuttoning them will take too long. He wants somebody to devour him. He wants somebody that’s going to try and infuse themselves into his skin. He wants to be left with handshape bruises on his hips and bite marks on his ass. He wants somebody that’s going to pull his hair and demand to be fucked harder. He wants desperation. He wants need. He wants his skin set on fire and his orgasm to be an exaltation.

He wants to feel like he is the answer to his partner’s every prayer. He wants trust and control while at the same time he wants to experience complete abandon.

He wants Michael.

“Not everyone can be Michael Guerin,” Alex says, the words leaving his mouth effortlessly without him even thinking about what he’s saying. They are the truth… But perhaps that doesn’t make them fair.

“Alex…” Michael doesn’t finish that thought, and Alex isn’t sure that he wants him to. Not when he knows exactly what Michael wants to say. What Michael always wants to say but never does.

This thing Alex is doing? It’s selfish and it’s not fair to anyone.

For months, he’s been giving excuses as to why he stays with Forrest. But at the end of the day, that’s all they are. Excuses. The real reason that Alex is with Forrest is that Alex knows he’s destined to break everything he touches, and breaking Forrest seems like a far better option than breaking Michael. There’s less risk in dating Forrest. Less to lose when he eventually fucks it all up.

But now that he’s home and there’s no longer thousands of miles between himself and his bad decisions, Alex is starting to realize what an idiot he is. Because this thing he’s been doing with Michael? It hasn’t been without risk. Alex isn’t oblivious. He knows that it hurts Michael that Alex is still with Forrest. He doesn’t have to say it for Alex to see it’s true. It was just easier to pretend he could have Michael without consequence.

But the truth is this:

Alex Manes is and always will be a horrible boyfriend. And Michael Guerin deserves better than that.

But Michael also deserves better than being treated like some fucktoy Alex only keeps around for the orgasm. Alex knows that. But he’s never been able to step away from Michael, not completely. How is he supposed to resist those eyes? Those lips? Those curls? Those damn one-liners?

Fuck.

Out on the road, it had been easier. Out on the road, all he had to offer were phone calls and text messages. And when they were separated by so much distance, that was more than acceptable. But now that Alex is home? Michael is going to want more. He deserves more… And Alex has no idea how to give him that.

Forrest was supposed to be his practice. Alex was supposed to learn how to be the good, doting boyfriend from dating Forrest. But that hardly panned out the way he planned.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually says and he can hear the disappointed sigh Michael lets out at the words.

“Hey, it is what it is, right?” Michael says.

“You know I’d rather be at the Pony,” he says.

“Nah, Planet 7 isn’t so bad,” Michael says. “The bartender is hot and if you tip well, he’s got a healthy pour. Plus, the bathroom stalls accommodate two people way more comfortably.”

“Do I wanna know how you know that?” he asks and Michael just laughs, the serious mood from earlier thankfully gone for the moment.

“All I��ll say is that I look damn good in glitter and clean up well when I want to,” Michael says and Alex can picture it. Michael with his disregard for buttons, glitter covering his chest, the light hitting him just so… He’s sure Michael has guys eating out of the palm of his hand… Among other things.

“I don’t doubt it,” he says, feeling a pang of jealousy that he wasn’t around to see it. That things couldn’t be different for them. Alex has a feeling that he wouldn’t mind Planet 7 so much with Michael at his side.

“Hey, no, none of that,” Michael says. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to gather everyone and we’re gonna come to you.”

“You don’t have to—” he starts to protest, but Michael cuts him off.

“Nope. We can’t have a welcome home party without our guest of honor. We’re coming to you. Maria has plenty of staff tonight, she can afford to take the night. We’ll see you in a bit,” Michael says.

Alex knows he should argue, but he can’t lie, the idea of seeing his friends does make his heart feel a little lighter.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“Always,” Michael says with a level of sincerity that almost brings tears to Alex’s eyes. He’s saved from having to find an acceptable response to such a heavy declaration when Michael clears his throat and adds a teasing, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you about the glitter.”

Alex can’t help but laugh. “I’m fully prepared.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that. But I know the bathroom leaves packets of lube out so we can make sure you are,” he says. It’s over the top and from any other guy, it would be obnoxious and too much. But Michael isn’t just any guy and from him, it’s just right. Just enough to make him laugh and lift his spirits.

Knowing Michael, along with his other friends, will be here soon helps ease the anger and frustration that’s been growing in his heart.

“See you soon,” Alex says with a smile and waits for Michael’s, “Can’t wait,” before hanging up.

Before Alex does anything else, he opens up his Snapchat to find a missed video from Michael. Turning the volume down low, he plays the video and instantly, he’s met with the sweat soaked, well-fucked image of Michael close to orgasm. The camera is trained on his face, but the angle is such that he’s clearly using his powers to take the video. He’s moaning as he stares right into the camera and Alex wishes he could turn the volume up to hear him better.

Already his dick is starting to fill again with need.

As the camera pans out, he can see that Michael is on his knees, one hand firmly on the headboard while the other is wrapped around his dick. An invisible force is fucking that dildo into him with a relentless pace and Alex bites both of his lips to keep from crying out. The video is practically obscene, but Alex loves it.

He can just barely hear Michael crying out, “Fuck me! God, Alex, fuck me harder.”

And all Alex can do is start to pump his own hand in pace with Michael, imagining that he’s there, thrusting into Michael with complete abandon.

And then the video ends with Michael coming, painting his sheets with strips of white that Alex wishes he could swallow down.

It’s not enough. His own dick throbs with need and Alex continues to pump himself rough and wild, chasing after orgasm. With one hand, he pulls down his menu screen and does a screen recording so he can rewatch this video to his heart’s content. He knows Michael will see that he’s saved the video, but he doesn’t care. Michael had to know that wasn’t the kind of thing he could watch only once.

Moments later, he gets another Snapchat message from Michael that simply says, ‘Thought you’d enjoy that video 🤤 That orgasm should’ve been yours.’

Alex takes a quick picture of himself, sure that’s he makes quite the sight with his dick out and slick with precome in the middle of a public bathroom and his eyes blown wide with lust.

Michaels response is instant. ‘Don’t you dare come without me. I’m 15 minutes away.’

[oftenderweapons]

Hi Dora! I love your work. Thank you for giving us some yoongixkitten & joonxvixen. They’re my two favorites🥰 out of curiosity do you think any of the couples you’ve made would ever do group sex together? Not really a request. More of a query lol💜💜💜 sending you love

Hi! Autocorrect renamed me Dora and I do not dislike it at all! I'll keep it in mind for a possible new pseud 😉

I'm happy i could deliver those fics and I've been working on smaller fics since its been difficult to stay invested in writing lately. But yay! New content on the way!!!

About your ask, I've replied below the cut, since there's explicit stuff discussed.

About the group sex... I kept this ask in my inbox for a few days to consider all the people potentially involved and their couple dinamics and well...

Let's just say Tae and Lace with Hoseok and Giggles were the first people that made me say 'hell yeah'. They're all freaky enough and they're the least jealous out of the bunch. They would most definitely take that into consideration, however there's a rather high chance of Taehyung getting a little possessive were Hoseok to get a bit too close and personal with Lace.

Giggles would feel extremely comfortable with Lace, she would be very amused at seeing Hoseok dealing with Lace's more curvaceous, luxuriant figure. She'd be fascinated by the sight of him worshipping Lace's chest. And at the same time, she'd be more excited at the thought of being ravished by Lace rather than any other of the participants.

Taehyung would consider a quickie with Giggles, just to study how different she would feel from Lace. He would appreciate how Giggles is so lithe and small and easy to manouevure thanks to her extreme stretchability and slender figure.

Meanwhile Hoseok would be amused at how Taehyung would use Giggles. How sensuous she would turn underneath his touch, more thorough and unhurried than Hoseok's usual method.

----------

But they're not the only ones I matched up.

I think that, if correctly worded, Yoongi and Kitten would also agree to group sex, specifically with Seokjin and Angel. It would be less "unfazed" than what I imagined for the other four. Angel would hesitate, but at the same time she would be curious.

In the end, her and Kitten would end up getting perfectly along, understanding each other so thoroughly that Angel would definitely consider doing that again.

Yoongi would mostly watch. He would have eyes only for Kitten — he has always fantasised about watching her have sex with a woman, so of course he would spend every second staring at Kitten, studying her. And once Angel would be begging for a break, Kitten would swap with Seokjin.

Yoongi would mostly watch. He would have eyes only for Kitten --he has always fantasised about watching her have sex with a woman, so of course he would spend every second staring at Kitten, studying her. And once Angel would be begging for a break, Kitten would swap with Seokjin. n, so of course he would spend every second staring at Kitten, studying her. And once Angel would be begging for a break, Kitten would swap with Seokjin.

There are high chances of Kitten watching Seokjin fuck Angel like an animal. And yes, Kitten might beg for Yoongi to eat her out while she watches the other two wreak havoc over each other.

-----------

I don't deny I've thought of Jimin taunting Jeongguk about it as a competition. There are very slim chances of it happening, but if it does happen, it would probably culminate with Candy passing out from overstimulation, or both women begging for a moment of reprieve.

Not to mention Princess would flip the tables on Jimin, rebelling to him domming her and making him submit in return.

And at that point nothing would keep Jimin from getting pegged so ruthlessly he would end up whining for help, tearing up for relief.

Jeongguk would watch the older man thrive in his submissive role and would probably open up about it with Candy, but nothing too extreme. Maybe a vibrating buttplug?

-----------

The only one I'm not sure would get along with the shaggery is Namjoon. He can barely bear people hearing Vixen through the walls, but people seeing her? Touching her? No. Especially since he knows she wouldn't enjoy that much, too caught in her own head to actually live in the moment.

The only thing that would bring him close to considering would be getting Vixen so jealous she would grow reckless and desperate enough to unravel him. And the idea of watching her with another woman... Maybe... Or watching her with another man, spotting the differences, instructing his assistant on how to pleasure her...

He would shake his head and send the thought away. Too much risk for too little gain. That's his little fox. His.

[sweet-teeth-mfs]

HELLO NEW READERS / FOLLOWERS:

Hi all, we’re now over 1,600 readers 🎉- so I thought I should post this info page again so that you know what my page is like and how it operates! 

WELCOME TO SWEET TEETH MOTHERFUCKERS

I write NSFW 18+ SMUT. I also write the occasional soft fluff piece, self-care fanfics, headcanons, mv analysis and the odd psa every now and then.

WHO ARE YOU?

My name is Edie*, I’m in my mid-thirties, I’m non-binary (call me Oppa and I’ll baby you for life 😉), I’m bisexual and I’ve recently been diagnosed with ADHD (lucky me whoooo!). I write for BTS, EXO & NCT 127. I’m a multi-fan and I live in the UK. I currently work as a PhD researcher in media studies, where I look at masculinity, sexuality and religion in film and video games. I write smut in my downtime but I have to keep it quite secret because of my job (I’m on a scholarship), hence you will rarely see a selfie of me. I love cinema, music videos, modern art, video games, good sake and having a smoke with friends. I can be a complete ho, but I’m loyal as hell. 

I have a serious thing for Jung Hoseok. 

ASKS

My request box is currently closed as I work through season 4′s requests. 

Whilst my request inbox is closed, you can still send me asks!! I love to hear feedback and answer queries! I’m always open to having chats with readers, making mutuals and the like - however due to wanting to protect your privacy (a concern for a good deal of smut readers) I choose to leave this all in the readers hands. It’s your choice to say hi to me or not, as I don’t know who wants to be ‘known’ to read my blog and who doesn’t. So feel free to say hi, be it anonymously or not. 

I also maybe have a history of answering asks with bonus headcanon posts so you know, use that information how you will... 

POSTING SCHEDULE

I currently do not post on a regular schedule as I’m taking a bit of a break from a schedule during the last year of my PhD. I usually will give warning if I’m intending to post a new fic however, and it’s totally ok to ask about the status of fics etc. 

I tag all of my non-fanfic posts as ‘Edie’s Opinion’ or ‘Shitpost’ so feel free to block those if you only want to read the content. There is however a link in the browser version of the site so you can only see the fics, (its here), so feel free to use that too. 

MASTERLISTS

You can find the larger masterlist [here]; this contains all the tags and fics I’ve written, which is currently at 100+ 😳It’s got links to each member specifically, as well as popular tags, a kink list and pages for each of the request periods as wholes (I call them seasons).  You can also check out the band specific descriptive masterlists - which give brief descriptions of the fics and are separated by member & band here (for EXO) and here (for BTS), and finally here (for NCT 127)

INFO

If you want to know more about SWEET TEETH, such as request suggestions, links to other blogs, fanfic I recommend, who I am (who I bias?) or how you can be involved, please go read the info page [here]. You can find links to it and the masterlists in the header. 

MORE THAN FICS?

If you want to read things I’ve written outside of smutty fanfiction, you can peruse several tags - such as the MV ASKS TAGS where I did some aesthetic analysis posts on Kpop music videos, or look through the Directors Cut tags where I discuss the Behind the Scenes of writing the fics/backstories.

If you want to see my side blog/altar to Hoseok, why not go check out Charisma Thot, it’s [here]!

If you want to see my purely visual side blog, it’s called Biaswreckers Anonymous and its here. 

If you want to see the dumping ground where @red-exo and I put all our Taeyong lust it’s here. 

FINALLY, PLEASE TIP YOUR WAITRESS:

You can send me tips for my hard, hard work via my Ko-fi account [here]. 

Thank you so much for following me, please feel free to say hi as I do not bite, love feedback, or even just a midnight ask telling me how bad Chanyeol makes you feel. 😘