#i think the overwhelming consensus is that he is best boy

[cuttyflammm]

lookit this lad!!!

[zeevoidlight]

I think Vegeta was a virgin up until he met Bulma.

I know, what a freaking way to start an argument but blame reddit for asking and leading me to a trail of autism thoughts, and I will also talk about Vegeta's attraction to Bulma and viceversa when they first met. Like, how tho. Albeit from a demisexual perspective (or asexual, idk anymore really). (I saw the latin dub but as I have heard it is very similar to the japanese version but I'll reference the japanese one if i found footage of it).

/////

Some might believe that because of his attitude, his raw power, his Saiyan heritage, his status as conqueror of planets, genocidal maniac, sociopath extraordinare, his military background and his ruthlessness and uncaring nature, Vegeta was raping people left and right, or that he has always been very sexually active, or at least had some experience regarding the matter.

But be honest, he was too dense with everything from his childhood traumas and his vengeance against Frieza to care about having sex, or having a relationship with anyone in any capacity.

Also he is too proud and values his Saiyan heritage too much to give anyone he didn't deem worthy the privilege to have sex with him, let alone risk the possibility of an offspring. At least that's how I see Vegeta being pre Namek and pre dying against Frieza having to confront and accept by force an overwhelming amount of feelings on a rollercoaster for the first time in years. Dude didn't even thought two times to kill Nappa and let Raditz rot instead of reviving him as the last remainings of his people, that's how dense he was prior. He was so proud that he didn't mind to be the only Saiyan left alive and probably preferred it that way. Nappa that one time suggested to him that they could revive the Saiyan race by mixing with earthlings and Nappa was ready to pound (consensual or not) and Vegeta is like "nah, are you crazy? I wouldn't like to have a child being stronger than me". Dude probably had the opportunity to do so some other times but rejected it, he doesn't sound interested at all, first thinking on other things than sex. Added to that the detail that Toriyama was asked and said that Saiyans basically only get together sexually for the purpose of reproduction, is not a necessity for the most part in the same way it is for humans.

Of course he wasn't oblivious to it like Goku though and was well aware because he's not stupid. Outside of the English dub he notices Bulma on Namek and even refers to her as gorgeous, or pretty earthling woman. So I guess he still had a sexual notion but in other ways. He was not innocent of mind is what I'm saying. Like, he must have known what flipping the bird means. Is probably not that he didn't knew what sex was and desired it at some point or joked about it like I guess they'd do in Frieza's army but he was just not interested on acting on it for real at that time.

But then, after Frieza died and everything that happened after his disaster visit to Earth and Namek, after loosing literally everything and having no purpose anymore other than wait and find Goku to best him, and after having realized more of himself in vulnerable ways trying to find some sense of normality in who he perceived he was, here comes Bulma all confident, infatuated and aggressive with him, because of course she like the bad boys (and Vegeta is actually canonically deemed as handsome), and because Vegeta let his guard down for one second and let Bulma be Bulma while he literally couldn't do anything but go along (I suppose Piccoro was the only one that could have fight him if he tried anything). And he already found her attractive too in a way, not only that but she was probably the first woman that wasn't scared of him and even challenged him, treating him as an equal and as just another person, flirting with him openly, living with her and her family as a guest which is a completely different context to what he had been doing to survive his medium. Like, no one really talks about it but he spent 6 months! with her, her family, and like 50 namekians all living together before asking for Goku to "revive", and that time of waiting calmed him down a great deal already.

His interactions with Bulma

So just so happens that now he can think on other things that aren't killing Frieza and escaping his rulership. He had to learn this new types of interactions and how to deal with them in his own way, and that includes how to approach someone that he felt attracted to. Who knows if he had other people he felt that attraction towards, probably, but Bulma is the one that basically said "yeah, I'm down if you want".

The fact that he calls her "vulgar" when she first flirted with him says a lot of how he would not engage with just anyone because of his pride as a prince and a Saiyan, and how she probably was the first to even flirt with him openly. How he says she is "loud" and called her "woman" also says that he was more likely annoyed by the idea of women as gender like it often happens, belittling them and all. While on the other hand Bulma constantly challenged him on it once they got to Earth, forcing him to address the topic as we see several times, being strong against him. Like (again I'm going with the Latin version since I've heard is more accurate to the japanese version), Bulma says to him "and what about you, small one", and he's like "what?!... She called me small one?..." (in japanese she just calls him Vegeta-kun, like a pet name), he was not willing to dignify the provocation huffing to Bulma's invitation after but didn't menace her nor got aggressive or sarcastic like he would with someone else. But then she said "I'm going to give you a lot of food. Bet you eat as much as Goku, am I wrong? haha!... But I'm not going to allow you fall in love with me even if you find me very attractive", and is in this moment where you can see Vegeta's wtf face entering panic mode resorting to insult her under his breath as if she could see through him. Is right here where you see that he doesn't really know how to react to someone flirting and is debating between bursting in anger or run away but just ends up paralyzed because his ego won't let him move. (in japanese he reacts by muttering "what a vulgar woman! and how loud she is (being)!")

Then they go to Bulma's house and Vegeta just tags along. It seems that going through Namek with the earthlings, helping each other and cooperating like his life depended on it was an experience for a lifetime. My man can't seem to get a rest from one wft after the other since he arrived to Earth because the next thing that happens is that Bulma's mother comes to him faster than light startling him and says "[]...I imagine you must be Bulma's boyfriend. You ARE charming. And it looks like you are trendy". And the only thing he can muster to reply back is "t-trendy?" (I find it funny that that's what he reacted to and not to being called Bulma's boyfriend XD)

Vegeta's disinterest and rejection is part of why I think Bulma was interested on him. Because the interactions Bulma has had with men in general throughout the entirety of the series have been... very poor to say the least. Men want take advantage of Bulma in one way or another but more often than not sexually (I mean just being in Roshi's general vicinity is more than enough for anyone), or they see her as a "thing" for themselves, a trophy. (this one bellow was so terribly stressful, my god...)

And Bulma's approach to men is a similar as well because she is clearly very superficial too and that has remained a constant since day one. (jesus, bulma)

And Vegeta wasn't interested on taking her like that, on the contrary he pushed her away despite being interested (which I bet Bulma knew or at least expected because of her own ego), and also he had greater objectives he wanted to pursue. Focused (on surpassing Goku...), determined, and that was the difference. He doesn't seem like the type of guy that would try to get an opportunity to peek through the shower window seeking to get a glimpse of her like we have seen others do (although, Bulma did saw him through the shower doors), or disrespect her in any physical way. Far from it, his reactions with her are getting all nervous, speechless, flustered, he follows her (because in a way he does respect her character and leadership), aggressively rejecting her at the same time (trying to negate his feelings to go back to the status quo), calling her names, and Bulma isn't taking none of that because she doesn't believe that bs he's spouting and she knows he likes her (like, who wouldn't, as she probably tells herself), even plays with it sarcastically and either brushes it off or dares him to say it again. And I can see why is she so insistent too, because she also likes him.

He lets her get close to him but cautiously (the comparison to a stray cat is not too farfetched). He knows what Bulma wants but just now he has found someone that confronts him about it without fear or shame, he has now the mental space to think about it and needs to respond to it somehow, he is interested back too, he IS aroused by her as well. When he arrives to Bulma's house from his search in space and Yamcha and him are al tense with each other, Bulma arrives and says all calmly "Calm down, boys. Why don't you let him take a shower first?", she touches him and says "C'mon. You have to take a shower because you are VERY dirty" *finger movent, "Come. It's this way". That flinch he does when she touches him while going into fight or flight mode again, and the famous sexy finger movement on Bulma's part that completely seeks to throw him off and serve as a sexual invitation that he quietly accepts (even before she yells at him to stop gawking and not let a damiselle wait) by being passive and following her lead to the surprise of everyone in the scene.

I mean, I'm not the most versed person regarding this (as you can probably see) but It's happened to me where someone gives me something they have to hand me, and they let their hand stay a little longer than usual, or unnecessarily caress your palm with their fingers or nails with the intention for you to notice the unusual movement and tingly sensation as a way of flirting and invite you to sexy time. So I see this the first time and i'm like "Bulma?... ~what is this?~ I see your game" while remembering the first time someone did that to me so clearly. People think that because it's some people's first time you'll be all awkward and won't know how to be sexy too, specially being an older virgin person which would be Vegeta's case, but nah, you just gotta be confident and say "fuck it, I want this too and will give you a good time as well". It is how I picture Vegeta, ultimately knowing his value (also ultimately accepting something for himself after loosing everything on Namek) and enjoying himself as well (like, "serving himself with the bigger spoon" as they say) once they got there when he had to take a decision and answer Bulma's provocations.

(Also, I never totally understood why Bulma's mom was spilling the tea in the background at that moment but I suspected it was because it meant to signify Vegeta and Bulma were "cooking" and very into each other, and not just her being careless and aloof tho using that as a way to convey it).

Every time they in a scene she's measuring him with every interaction they have from the moment they got back to Earth onward, to see how far he's willing to allow her go, and hitting him with another wtf reaction every now and then to trow him off. Even going as far as put him in ridiculous and assert HER dominance. Because is not that he couldn't have just blasted everyone away with every step but little by little both were forming a connection. The scene of the pink shirt, after Vegeta gets offended by the style she says "If you don't want them you can walk around nude"... D: (his pikachu face was better than mine though, and then he says "damn, she's very rude"). I mean... is there anything more clear than that.

And then she sees him and says "You really look good like that...". Not only that but when Vegeta senses Frieza arriving he gets mad, insults Yamcha for doubting his ability to sense Frieza's chi, they're about to fight each other and Bulma is cooking some meat and is like "Vegeta, if you want to use the sauce I have it here", and everyone, specially Vegeta, is visibly confused and he doesn't know how to respond, the scene is left unanswered. But Bulma is pushing to see if Vegeta can be gentle and mannered.

(side note: Trunks says that after his arrival Yamcha was going to be unfaithful to Bulma but no man, That's what future Bulma told him but is more likely that it was her the one that left him for Vegeta that day, way before Trunks arrived. Even on Namek she already was over him, thinking of Goku and how she lost her train with him, then with Zarbon, and finally Vegeta (she also had a picture of Yamcha in her little camp in Namek full of darts to his face, so...). Yamcha never really had Bulma, and he didn't do much to get her back either or change. Truth is Bulma is the crazy one). And then when Frieza arrives to Earth Bulma arrives at the scene too and explains that since she couldn't see Frieza in Namek she wanted to see him here to see how strong he really was, and Vegeta says "not only she's rude but aggressive/daring too..." In this very soft thoughtful tone and talking to himself, like... C'mon dude! Accept that you like her!

And then then! when everyone is going towards Frieza's ship, Bulma is the one who yells "Wait, Vegeta! take me with you! Remember who hosts you!" (is that how you say it? dar alguien hospedaje?). Yamcha is completely out of her picture.

We see the next time the most obvious episode where the love tones are more present, Vegeta's training montage after the news of the androids, and his accident with the gravity chamber, but by then it was just confirmation of all the signs from before. So when we see Bulma with baby Trunks it doesn't really come out of nowhere and you understand how and why.

While I find Super's tsundere Vegeta in some instances fun to watch, more with him and Goku to be honest, but I don't think Z Vegeta was taking it in such a juvenile way, he's more adult and mature still about the situation, as mature as someone calling a girl "woman" to assert dominance that is. The flirting "dance" towards their sexual encounter is more silent and elegant, just like two adults would do so. He wants to get closer but the only thing the dude has known his entire life is fighting and being on offense mode all the time while at the same time having to hide. Their dynamic is quite interesting and quite amazing, not for nothing they are considered to be one of if not the best couple in anime, and trying to unravel how it all started is really fun.

But yeah, As I see it and if we could compare Vegeta's sexuality to something from real life he, as most saiyans, was probably demi-sexual (yay), since it's said that Saiyan's don't understand romance and they likely only had sex to reproduce. They didn't had the concept of family outside of the royal family. And that's why also Vegeta is one of the few saiyans that later could develop an understanding of family and being in a relationship in a way other saiyans don't, including Goku.

So yeah, that's my terminally online post of the day. Nothing but Dragon ball and Vegeta on my mind lately.

I would like to get into analyzing Goku and Vegeta's sexuality soon too. It's so interesting as well because is not traditional.

[gothy-froggy]

How Far Obsession Goes

(Killer Frequency spoilers)

Henry Barrows x fem!reader

Warnings: murder, obsessive behavior, violence, minor character death, suggestive, blood mentioned, main character being to shocked to do anything , non-consensual sexual behavior and actions(?) , not proofread, rushed

Summary: Henry and reader were good friends, now dating, but little does reader know, Henry is in love with her. Obsessed with her. And as the the Whistling Man returns, Henry let’s reader knows about how deep his feelings are.

——————————-

Look at me more.

Smile at me more.

Love me more.

The three phrases echoed in Henry’s mind. He knew his girlfriend loves him. He knows she’s faithful to him. No need to feel like this, but he wants more. Henry wished he could just have her in his arms all the time. Her soft and warm skin against his. Her scent overwhelming his nose, making him drunk from it. Her arms around him as if she needs to be protected. Her pretty head on his chest, the weight from her body pressing more onto him. He needed more.

Henry looked at his reflection before taking a deep breath in, looking down at a picture of his lovely girlfriend. Such a beauty, a shame that he couldn’t be with her every second of their lives. Boy does he wish he can. He stuffed the photo franticly into the pocket of his coat.

“Ready?” His mother asked. She handed him a blade. Henry slowly nod, taking the blade and putting it in his other pocket. His mother grabbed his cheeks and pressed a kiss on his forehead.

“Try your best not to get distracted. This town has to pay. Make me proud.”

Henry gave his mother another nod, but he knew he was going to get distracted. His true love isn’t with him. She’s with a friend instead since he had to make an excuse and an alibi for the night. All he could think was maybe, just maybe he could check up on her between kills.

Look at me

Smile at me

Touch me

Love me

“I’m glad we could hang out.” Alex smiled as he grabbed a soft drink from the mini fridge in the bedroom.

“Yeah, I’m happy you could make it!” She agreed, sitting at the end of the bed.

“I know that this day of the year is hard for you. Thought you would like some company.”

“Yeah, appreciate it.” Alex nod, sitting on the floor next to the bed. He held his drink from the top, letting it dangle over his knee.

“I’m surprised that your boyfriend allowed this.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, puzzled by his words. Alex laughed lightly, looking up at her.

“You know, he’s just so protective over you. I get that you two are dating, but he doesn’t got to guard you that much.”

She lightly laughed.

“He means no harm. Henry is a good guy.” She waved it off. She went down the stairs and grabbed Ponty’s Pizza. She played some music and offered Alex some pizza.

“Come on, let’s talk about something else, yeah?”

Look at me

Smile at me

Touch me

Laugh with me

Love me

Henry wiped the blood of his blade. He stared at the lifeless eyes from the man he had just killed. He grabbed his phone and called his mother.

“Mom, I’ll go for him. I know where he’s at.”

“Ok. Be careful. Call me when you’re done. Then we’ll head to the station.”

Henry quickly muttered a ‘I love you’ to his mother before hanging up. He pulled out the picture of his true love. Oh how beautiful his girlfriend is. Every bit of her. Oh he loves her so much. Maybe a little too much. No, that’s not possible. You can never love someone too much. His mother proved that. All of this for his father. He would do the same for her. She could even ask him to and he would. There was no limit to what he would do for her. He thinks of her daily, over a million times.

Henry put the photo away and glanced at the body. Yeah, he would do this for his sweet love in a heartbeat. He put the blade away and walked over to her house. It was just perfect. He gets to see her and kill a target. And so her how deep his love for her goes.

Look at me

Smile at me

Touch me

Laugh with me

Think of me

Love me

She held Alex in her arms as he cried. His empty soda can forgotten on the ground with quite a few beers. Alex clinging on her sleeves.

“Just why my parents, you know?” The sobbing, drunken Alex sniffled.

“On this…fucking day too!” She pat his back, gently shushing him.

“You aren’t alone Alex. You’re ok.” She comforted him. Alex hiccuped, looking up at her.

“Yeah, I got you, don’t I?” He slurred a bit. Alex forced her on the bed, ignoring her scream and discomfort.

“Alex, no! Let me go!” She screeched. Alex brought his face closer with a more sickly smile.

“Come on. Do you know how, long I waited to get with you?” Alex gritted his teeth, sounding frustrated and upset.

“That Henry fuck ruined it all!” She flinched by his shout.

“Alex, please,” She whispered as panic continued to build.

Panic builder up, but no longer from Alex.

Alex suddenly got off of her, hitting the floor hard. A masked man in a long trench coat, the Whistling Man, grabbed him, throwing him against the desk and from wall to wall. Her frantic screams helped nothing as Alex got his serve beating.

The Whistling Man pulled out his blood stained knife with one hand, the other keeping Alex against the wall with a ball of his shirt. The blade being shoved deep inside Alex’s stomach. The Whistling Man took the blade out and threw Alex on the floor. He turned him over after getting on top, rising the knife with both hands.

Me

He stabbed the knife into his chest.

Me

He stabbed his chest again.

Me

And again.

Me

And again.

M e

Again.

The Whistling Man stabbed Alex directly in the heart, adding pressure as he watched him take his final breath. He tilted his head before taking the knife out. He turned to the mortified woman. He grabbed her as she tried to run out of the door.

“Shhh.” He turned her around and sat her on the bed. He took the mask off, revealing it was her boyfriend.

“Henry?!” She screeched, desperately trying to get away.

“Baby, he can’t hurt you anymore, it’s ok. I’m here.” He forced her into a hug, kissing the top of her head. Henry ignored her scared rambling and attempt to get away.

“Look at me,” He said calmly, grabbing her cheek with a hand.

“I will kill anyone for you. Understood? Anyone.” His sickly obsessed eyes staring into hers. He rubbed her cheek as he kept a firm grasp on her, but not enough to hurt her.

“I love you, ok?” He whispered. He lightly jerked her head as she tried to glance at Alex’a deceased body.

“Don’t look at him. Look at me.” He demanded. Her fearful eyes looking back at Henry.

“Much better,” He slightly smiled.

“Don’t try to run away. You got it?” He told her. She very slowly nodded her head, following his instructions. Henry wrapped his arms around just below her waist, laying his body over her legs. He felt her loud and fast beating heart, her visible shaking. He let out a content sigh, looking up at her. His eyes were no longer loving. Something darker and twisted, more deep.

Obsession.

“I would do anything for you.”

Look at me more.

Smile at me more.

Touch me more.

Laugh with me more.

Think of me more.

Love me more.

More more more.

——————————-

[kinkandkreep]

TokRev Boyos Dad-canons:

Baji-boo:

Learned how to be a dad from observing his mom be a mom

I think the consensus is that Ryoko is a major contributing factor for Baji ranking number 1 out of the best boyfriends to have in TokRev

I would venture a guess and say that though Baji was influenced by his mother’s parenting, he knows that she didn’t do a perfect job, as with any parent, and he intends to make up for where she might have stumbled

Now, I’ma keep it trill wit y’all, I ain’t read Letter from Keisuke Baji and don’t know much about it 😭

BUT from what I’ve gathered, we do see more of Baji and his mother’s interactions

I think overall, Baji is a very chill dad

He’s one who never really gave deep thought about the prospect of having kids, but figured that if it happened, it happened

Initially, Keisuke does have some insecurity concerning whether he could be an adequate father or not

But once the time actually arrives, he’s very self assured and confident in his ability to be a great parent

Contrary to popular belief, Keisuke isn’t stupid stupid, he’s just book dumb

He’s got good common sense and reasoning skills, and he’s very well aware that both pregnant women and babies are fragile 

So, he acts accordingly 

Keisuke tries his best to be gentle during your pregnancy and after 

He insists upon doing practically everything for you 

He doesn’t like to dwell on it, but he frets a lot during the whole process

Everything is liable to harm you and your baby and the thought makes him simultaneously furious and so anxious he can at times visibly vibrate from feeling both emotions

You do a fair amount of damage control during and after your pregnancy, even though you’re technically the one meant to be hormonal and sensitive

Keisuke, perhaps surprisingly, doesn’t really cry when you give birth

His eyes more so water really hard but no tears fall

He’s actually really supportive and calm throughout the birthing process (which he insisted on being present for) and once your little bundle of joy has been safely and successfully brought into the world, he’s immediately overtaken with such a sense of happiness and fulfillment and the urge to protect that he’s slightly taken aback

Rather randomly, he looks great in all the hospital pictures taken the day your baby is born 🙃

I could honestly see Keisuke having either a boy or a girl in about equal measure, so I’ll let you decide what the two of you have

Either way, he adores his child

He’s kinda like Mikey, in that he can be firm but also very accommodating with his kid(s)

Is somewhat familiar with Cocomelon and prays your child never has to be 🙃 (mostly for his own sanity)

Bubble Guppies is his stuff though

Coos at your child all the time

Like everytime he sees them he’s just overwhelmed with this desire to make cute noises at them 😂

Would beat anybody up who tried to make fun of him for it though *coughMIKEYcough*

Takes care of the majority of baby related and household duties for quite some time after you’ve given birth

He just wants to be helpful, you’ll let ‘im won’t you? 🥺

He tries not to coddle you though, since he knows you’re not like, bedridden, just recovering

His favorite baby cartoon is probably Paw Patrol and his favorite pup is, perhaps predictably, Chase (though he does also have a soft spot for Zuma) 

MATCHING. OUTFITS. 

Keisuke loves to match outfits with his baby

And like he’s not normally a fashion focused guy, like Mitsuya, but when it comes to coordinating with his little “mini me,” he really goes all out 

Of course, who would Keisuke be if he didn’t let your child(ren) play with his long, luscious locks?

A terrible father, that’s who 😤

I can see Keisuke’s baby or babies all having hair like his, and this makes for some…interesting wash days

Especially if you got temperamental 4C hair, like me

And then combine that with how thick Baji’s hair is too???

Girl, my arms hurt and I’m ti’ed just thinkin’ about it 😂

Luckily, whatever texture your hair is, Baji doesn’t mind being the one to handle wash days, once you’ve shown him the proper hair care techniques

Loves to go on outings and do different activities to engage your little one

Keisuke knows he wasn’t the most academically gifted, so he does everything in his power to make sure that your child is mentally stimulated from a young age to hopefully encourage a greater academic ability 

All that being said, Baji is a superb dad, and he believes wholeheartedly that fatherhood has changed him for the better 🙂

Draken here

[carmenized-onions]

I love it. Chicago’s Kindest. The symbolism. Ugh the food symbolism. The fucking FOOD SYMBOLISM!!! The basil, the cherries, I can’t I literally can’t. David actually (sort of) liking the food because he didn’t try to be perfect he just did it because he loved making it for her because he lo- lov- loves her…! 🥹

Truly I lost my mind in the greatest way possible. Thank you for writing this. If I could give you a consensual kissy smooch on the forehead I would

Not to mention that David liked the food he also wanted her number. The way she reflects Carmen’s food and how well he does it is soooooo

The way David actually liked the food but didn’t want to show it but still technically showed it when asking for her number. (Because she and his food are one and the same). The way Carmen protected her by not giving her number out. And vice versa protecting himself UGH (I’m gonna be sick in the best way possible)

(Also they should’ve fucked in the bathroom)

First of all, it will never not make me laugh reading back people's reviews of Don't Say It and so many of them being like wow, this is so beautiful, i'm so happy for their emotionally intimate relationship and the intricate ways in which they both externally and internally show they care for each other.

and they always at one point or another say

also he should have railed her <3

absolute DOGS you lot !!! nah, kidding. I didn't even expect them to smooch at all going into it. But then the man was very nice and there were very few ways for Tony to show appreciation. BUT IT'S HARD TO FUCK HARD WHEN YOU'RE BOTH VISIBLY TEAR STREAKED IN THE TRAUMA DUMP BATHROOM YKNOW???

But on to your fucking actual thoughts. Christ. I lo-lo-love writing food symbolism man!! I love writing cherries into fucking everything now. Smooch your screen I promise I'll feel it. I feel the emotional smooch in my heart.

THE DAVID ANALYSIS IS SO INTERESTING, BECAUSE I DID INTEND THIS VIBE IN A SENSE, BUT YOU EXTENDED ON IT SO MUCH MORE THAN I EVER THOUGHT.

This is like that one Jordan Peele QnA where a viewer was like 'it was crazy in Get Out the way you segregated the fruit loops from the milk as a metaphor for her racism' and he went 'that's so cool. i did just do that because i thought eating dry cereal and drinking milk was the act of a psychopath'.

Like, I did want the David number thing to be an implication of approval because like you said, he can't just fucking SAY it it's fucking DAVID!! But going a step further to say Chip just IS Carmen's food, in essence,,,, oooofhfodjooh!!!!! thoughts!!! the thoughts are thoughting!!!

VERY much so when Carmen went on his insane bitch journey in New York it was an act of protecting himself as much as it was Chip. I noodled on it while writing Two Steps Back, but inevitably cut it--- Initially though, when writing Carmen's thoughts on giving your number, it was going to be riddled with insecurity on the subject that like. Hey maybe you should give david her number. He's competent and he wakes up on time and he has stars and he's not carrying an overwhelming amount of baggage.

This was eventually ditched as I thought longer on it and Carmen Compartmentalizes Berzatto, to me, would just opt to simply not even think about it. Just walled it off. my poor boy. if he simply fucked in a bathroom he would probably feel better.

ALWAYS GOTTA END ON A CALL BACK FOLKS!!!

[glitxhwayventeen]

The Smart One: Part Two

Yeonjun

Characters: Yeonjun x female reader

Warnings: violence (fight scene where YJ kinda loses it tbh), mentions of- death, drinking, smoking, sleeping around (but it’s all consensual so i don’t see a problem with it. But i know some people do so TW ig), name calling (but they don’t actually mean it and none of them think they do, they’re loving nicknames), crying, pining/angsty love, blood, another pack’s fight, Yeonjun being dumb basically poor baby

Author’s Note: So Yeonjun will have either three or four parts depending on how much i can cut it all down.

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

There Will Be Blood Masterlist

The Smart One: Part One, Part Three, Part Four

🥀

Bold- Dialogue Italics- Thoughts

Tag list-

Once he found out he could get quite literally no one else to pick him up, Yeonjun’s original plan was to just stay by his bike and text Huening he was in the parking lot when it was time for him to take him home. He originally had no plans of going inside the library. But before Yeonjun’s brain could stop them, his legs threw themselves over the seat of his motorcycle and made their way through the library’s double doors.

He knew immediately it was a bad idea. For every quickening beat of his heart he felt, he felt more dread and guilt slip into his body. But he knew the pup had already seen his figure in the building when he lifted his head up from his book to see who had walked through the door, a maneuver in which you followed suit. He knew it would be suspicious if he just back tracked and bolted through the entrance, so Yeonjun had to play it off like nothing bothered him.

He promised himself he would not get any closer to you than he already was. He promised himself he wouldn’t even speak to you to prevent himself from getting attached. But of course his little brother had other plans.

Kai hurriedly shoved all his things into his book bag, threw it over his shoulder, grabbed your very confused and unprepared hand, and rushed to where Yeonjun was standing with you stumbling behind him in an attempt to keep up.

The elder boy panicked internally. How was he going to play it cool when you’d soon be standing in front of him close enough to overwhelm him? How was he supposed to remain calm and collected when your sweet scent got heavier in his nose? How the hell could he hold a conversation with you when all he wanted to do was get lost in your warm sparkling eyes-

“Hyung!” Huening choked out, finally getting to the doorway Yeonjun had moments ago found himself prancing through, “Before we go, I wanted you to meet ____! You’re the only one of the guys that hasn’t yet.”

The pup proudly pulled you forward and presented you to Yeonjun as if you were a prize he had worked incredibly hard to win. The act made a hot blush appear across your face and had you playing with the hem of your pleated skirt nervously.

From the second you had seen him earlier in the day, your stomach instantly developed butterflies. Because of course your favorite tutoring student just happened to have the prettiest man on earth as his best friend. So to say you were anxious was a bit of an understatement.

It wasn't that you didn’t know how to speak to people, you had learned how to have appropriate conversations with people outside your family a long time ago and had gotten pretty good at it. But that didn’t mean socializing was something you did regularly.

Sure you had some friends and acquaintances you’d grown fond of during your stay in Korea for university. And sure everyone around you, regardless of if they liked you as a person or not, usually respected and admired you for your intelligence and dedication.

But you’d never felt genuinely attracted to someone before. At least you were pretty sure you hadn’t, you weren’t always the best at understanding your own feelings. You just knew the butterflies were definitely new and that the second you made eye contact with the boy it felt like your breathing hitched in your chest, neither of which you had experienced before.

So you were walking into new territory. Usually you’d attempt to introduce yourself and shake his hand because you’d learned that was the social norm. Though the man’s sharp facial features and piercing eyes had your heart racing too fast to go through the motions you’d gone through countless therapy sessions to be able to do relatively comfortably.

Luckily for you, your student got the hint that neither of you were planning on saying anything and started the conversation for you, “So hyung, this is ____. And ____ this is Yeonjun-ah. He’s one of my roommates,” the younger boy led, hoping to get one of you to say something.

That’s when it all clicked in your head. You had been told about the boy in front of you before by your eager student. He’d called him his loving hyung who’d do anything for him and his friends at the turn of a time. But the rumors you’d heard around campus about him told a completely different story. So much so that you weren’t even sure how they could be friends, the two seemed like polar opposites to you.

Where Kai was rather shy and reserved around people he didn’t know, Choi Yeonjun was blunt and always spoke his mind. Where the younger boy was inexperienced with the world and loving, the elder boy was far too experienced with… many things and could be quite distant emotionally from his peers.

Yeonjun was infamous around campus as being the guy who sleeps with anyone he wanted to, never having had a real girlfriend. Kai was infamous around campus as the guy who everyone was betting never had slept with anyone before, or had a girlfriend.

The boy in front of you had a thing for getting wasted at parties and getting into trouble with the law. The boy to your side had hardly been to any parties, never really drank, and probably didn’t even know what a rap sheet was.

As far as you knew, the only real thing the two had in common was that they both struggled in school, though Huening Kai was the only one wanting to do something about it.

“I know who she is.” The boy, Yeonjun apparently, monotonously cut through the silence, no emotion to be seen on his face as the words left his plump lips.

It was true that most people around your university knew who you were. There weren’t many people like you in South Korea at all, let alone going to your school. British-Kenyan students weren’t as easy to find as Chinese, Vietnamese, or American ones. At least, you for sure couldn’t name one off the top of your head.

Sure he could’ve maybe known you as the girl who was set to graduate number one in her graduating class, but you doubted he cared too much about class ranking. He could’ve also known you as the girl who tutored a sizeable portion of the student population but, as he had never asked for any, you didn’t think he would’ve known about you that way either.

It was likely he knew you as the African girl. The girl who got bullied for her accents and her skin color on the daily. The girl who never spoke unless she was spoken to. The girl that disliked being around people and was rather quite awkward with them. That way would’ve made more sense.

And, while you had gotten rather good at reading social cues over your years of having to deal with the general public, you knew you still had times where you couldn’t read between the lines. But this time, the tension seemed so thick even you were able to swiftly pick up on the boy’s negative attitude.

His arms crossed over his broad chest indicated he was closed off and non-reciprocating. His tapping foot meant he was in a hurry or wanted to be done with the conversation. His flat vocal tone said he either hated you or was over having to deal with you. And his lifted brow meant that he was probably fairly annoyed with you and Kai for having taken up his time.

All those small facts seemed to make the nerves in your body strike at your heart. The only guy you ever found remotely interesting romantically, even if it was only Choi Yeonjun, and he hated you without having ever even spoken to you before. How wonderful.

But you weren’t gonna let that deter you. Kai was much like you in that he didn’t have many friends. But the friends he did have were important to him, that’s why he wanted to introduce you to all of them. And you weren’t one to let your students down.

So you decided to power through as best as you could, “It’s very nice to meet you Yeonjun. Huening Kai talks about his friends a lot, so it’s nice to finally be able to put a face to your name!” You replied with a kind smile in perfect Korean, extending your slightly shaky hand to him intending for him to do the same.

Though your polite gesture was unreciprocated, the boy in front of you leaving your hand hanging through the air as his gaze bypassed you and went to the younger boy beside you.

“Are you ready to go yet Hyuka? We really need to get going,” Yeonjun cold heartedly questioned his friend, jaw clenched as he awaited an answer.

Even though you could see the shock in Kai’s eyes from such an unexpected answer from the elder boy, he hurriedly pulled his composure together and nodded, you assumed to keep you from having to deal with his emotionally distant friend any longer.

“Y-Yeah! We can go,” Your student turned in his heels to give you a hug and say goodbye, “Thanks again ____. Same time tomorrow?”

Nodding fiercely, you tried your best to put up a brave front as you patted his back, “Of course! Text me if you end up having trouble with the problems I gave you to work on okay?”

You didn’t want him to feel bad about the interaction you had with his roommate. Kai was a sweet, albeit easily distractible, kid. He just wanted everyone important to him to get along or at least be able to civilly interact with one another when needed, it was one of the reasons you got along so much. Having parents that bitterly divorced, you never wanted conflict around you either. In your eyes, he was as close to a true friend as you had made during your time in Korea.

That was because Kai wasn’t judgmental or rude. He wasn’t intentionally cruel. He, like you, was a constant target for bullying and ridicule because he was considered a foreigner in the eyes of Koreans. You had bonded a lot because of that.

You had grown so fond of him that now, the idea of something upsetting him, like his friends not getting along, stung your heart almost as much as Yeonjun ignoring you did. So you wanted to assure him everything was fine with you, even if it currently felt like you had a gaping hole in your chest.

With one last little wave and a nape of his shirt collar grab from his friend, your student was off and you were left alone with your thoughts. Usually you wouldn’t mind, you had actually preferred to be alone.

That night though, you felt as if you needed to go home and cry into your pillow at the sudden unexpected rejection you felt from a total stranger.

Why couldn’t you just be normal? Why couldn’t you just shake something like a simple introduction gone wrong off like everyone else without feeling so overwhelmed? What in the hell was wrong with you? But most importantly, what had you done to piss someone off without having ever even met him in person before?

————

“What the hell hyung?!” Huening demanded as soon as they walked through the door of their shared apartment, his bag being thrown somewhere across the room in anger because he sensed none of his other brothers had made their way home yet to yell at him for it.

Yeonjun found himself plopping down on the living room couch with a defeated sigh, “What the hell was what Ningning?”

The eldest boy knew exactly what the pup was referring to. He just didn’t have it in him to discuss the matter any further if he could help it.

Yeonjun knew he was unnecessarily mean to you today and he hated himself more than anyone could possibly ever know for it. Because the reality of the matter was that the promise he made to himself and, inadvertently you as well, was already hard as fuck to keep.

Because it was hard walking away from you today. The second he saw you, it felt like time stood still and his heart stopped beating all over again. Like once again he just wanted to go up to you, spin you around, and kiss away the space between your lips.

He wanted to stay and speak to you about your day, maybe even tease you on why you got so nervous when he first walked in the room.

It was also hard to finally get a closer look at your lightly freckled face and your, what he once thought were curls but were actually, twisted locs and not be able to compliment you on how gorgeous you were.

But it was even harder pretending he wanted nothing to do with you, especially once he saw the light in your eyes drain away when he ignored your hand.

Huening growled at his elder brother unintentionally, clenching his fists in anger, “Don’t ‘what the hell was what Ningning?’ Me! Why were you being a dick to ____? What in the hell did she ever do to you?!”

“Nothing,” Yeonjun answered, seeming as cool as a cucumber on the outside but slowly feeling his heart break on the inside.

That was the only answer the eldest in the pack could come up with. Anything else would’ve been suspicious. Anything else would’ve gave it away.

The pup stomped to stand in front of him, eyes spotting crimson red as more rage filled his body, “What the hell do you mean nothing?!” He questioned, quickly leaning over Yeonjun’s frame over the couch to get him to look at him face to face, “You’re telling me you were a jackass to one of the only friends i managed to make outside of the pack for no good fucking reason?!”

Yeonjun had never seen the younger boy so mad before. Truthfully, Kai usually just put up with whatever it was his older brothers did and didn’t complain. He always had a smile on his face and laughed it away. He was someone that the whole pack had come to know as a ‘suffer and cry in silence’ type of person. So his behavior did freak him out slightly.

Because the elder boy wasn’t sure he had ever heard the pup even raise his voice to someone else before. But now, Yeonjun had gotten him so mad he was screaming in his face, eyes blood red, nearly shifting in their living room.

He figured that Huening felt the need to defend you as you were the one friend he made on his own whose feelings got hurt because he introduced you to his asshole of a brother. He couldn’t blame him though, he wanted to rip his own heart out for doing it to you too.

Even so, his younger brother getting into his face in a threatening manner over you sent his instincts flying, immediately making him feel as though he needed to put him in his place for coming to your aide.

“Hyuka, I know you can’t understand this with your little pea sized brain, but believe it or not I was doing the girl a favor!” Yeonjun snarled, jumping up from his place on the couch and forcing Huening to stumble backwards slightly to cope with the sudden loss of dominance.

But instead of the young wolf backing down as Yeonjun had expected, he went right back to getting into his face, forcing their foreheads to nearly touch as he too began to snarl, “What fucking favor do you think you were doing for her?! The only thing you did was make sure she went home and cried!”

“Shut up Huening!” Yeonjun could feel his eyes get hotter, signaling that he was worked up enough to also melt through his contacts and begin shifting his eye color in anger.

It wasn’t Huening Kai’s place to say what upset you. It wasn’t his place to speak for you. And it sure as shit wasn’t his place to make Yeonjun feel bad about trying to protect you.

“No fuck you!” Huening protested, doing his very best to hold off from shifting in their living room as he screamed at his eldest brother, “____’s a good person! She’s nothing but kind and fair to everyone regardless of how they treat her! In fact, she’s the best person I know!-”

Fuck Kai. He didn’t get to talk about you like you walked on water, not when Yeonjun couldn’t talk to you at all.

Now it was Yeonjun’s turn to clench his fists with rage, “I said shut the fuck up!” He seethed, getting even closer to his brother’s face to try and get him to back off.

But the pup wouldn’t budge and continued on, “No you shut the fuck up! ____ has issues with people as is! She already has issues making friends and socializing! She already gets bullied! She didn’t need you coming in making her think she’s done something wrong!”

But he didn’t know you had issues with people. He never wanted you to feel like that. He never wanted to hurt you. He was just trying to protect you the only way he knew how.

Yeonjun could see a cloud of tears begin to form at his water line, causing him to close his eyes and clench his jaw, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He just wanted you safe. Safe from him and his pack. Safe from all the things that came with being attached to them. Safe from him. He didn’t know you were getting bullied.

“The hell I don’t!” Hyuka exclaimed, feeling his claws begin to elongate but refusing to care, “I know her better than anyone here! I know her better than you! And I know what she goes through on a daily basis and how hard her fucking life is! I know that she feels completely and utterly alone!”

Yeonjun didn’t care if it meant he’d have to spend the rest of his life alone. He didn’t care if it meant he’d never feel whole or loved. He didn’t care if he ended up dying from his self induced rejection of you as his mate. All he cared about was you.

“Kai stop.” The elder boy warned, his younger brother’s words piercing into his chest like a knife through butter.

All he cared about was that you’d get to be happy. That you’d get to have a normal human life. That you’d get to be healthy and unharmed. That you’d get to keep breathing. He didn’t know your life was hard. He didn’t know you felt alone in Korea.

Hearing his brother’s warning only seemed to urge him on, “People are awful to her here! They bully her worse than they bully me! Do you know how many times a day she calls her parents crying? Do you know how many times a day she wishes she could just disappear into thin air? Do you know how many times she’s gotten the hell beat out of her because some fucking students don’t think she belongs he-”

But before Huening could finish his rant, Yeonjun socked him in the face, causing him to fall back to the floor in shock.

“Do you think I wanted to do that to her?!” He spit, instantly throwing himself on top of the pup and throwing another punch into his left cheek.

The younger wolf tried to fight back but it was no use, Yeonjun was stronger. And he had lost more that day than Hyuka did. Except he couldn’t do a thing about it.

“Do you think I wanted to hurt her?!” Yeonjun demanded as he jammed his fist against his brother’s rib cage, causing him to cry out in pain.

He hated Huening Kai. He hated the words he was saying about you. He hated that he was bringing ugly truths about you he didn’t previously know to light. But mostly, he hated himself for it all.

“Do you think that was what I wanted for her?!”

For ignoring you. For not going up to you and hugging your sadness away the second he saw you. For not being able to go and comfort you. For not being able to tell you everything was going to be okay and that you weren’t alone. That you had him.

“Is that what you actually fucking think?!” Yeonjun was so lost in hashing out his feelings with his fists, he didn’t even notice when the tears started coming down his face. Or when the front door opened.

“You didn’t stop to think for one second that maybe I had a valid reason for staying away from her?!” Yeonjun punched Kai up his jaw.

He didn’t want to tell anyone. He knew the moment he did they’d try to change his mind. But his mind couldn’t change. It was too dangerous. Just the other day Beomgyu’s brother’s pack got attacked by another pack and a kid got hurt. He couldn’t let that happen to you.

“That maybe I was thinking of what’s best for her?!” Yeonjun’s knuckles were sore and raw now, not that he cared when he popped the pup in the eye.

He wasn’t gonna tell anyone really. But after Kai kept going on and on about how good you were and how horrible the world around you was he couldn’t take it anymore. He snapped.

“She’s my fucking mate do you really think I wanted to hurt her?! I was protecting her!” The eldest finally lets out with a choked sob wracking through his body, leaving just enough time for Taehyun to wrap his arms around his biceps and dive with him off the pup to the floor.

From the corner of his eye, Yeonjun could see Soobin helping a very shocked and bruised Kai off the ground. But he didn’t care.

He had finally given into his tears and began crying harshly against Taehyun’s hold. He was just trying to protect you. Now he wasn’t sure what he did to you.

“What the actual fuck is going on here?!” Beomgyu questioned as he stood in the doorway watch his brothers, one bloodied and limping, another with cuts all over his hands as he wailed violently, and his other two doing their best to keep them apart.

(Edited 2/5/2024)

[nirikeehan]

hello! maybe Samson/Thalia (always love some messy Samson lmao) with the otherwordly prompt of "Numinous (English, origin Latin) - (adj.) Describing an experience that makes you fearful yet fascinated, awed yet attracted — the powerful, personal feeling of being overwhelmed and inspired."

OH BOY what a dynamite prompt!! So perfect! I tried hard with this one tho tbh I'm not sure I quite got there in the end? Ah well.

@demarogue also had similar designs:

For @dadrunkwriting

Set in some far-flung point in nightmare au, whence Thalia has already agreed to join Samson as a hostage.

WC: 1581

CW: Samson is a creepy sad sack; referenced past non-con/dub-con situation; non-consensual touching

---

They lie on the bed in the old Orlesian emperor’s quarters — her in a shift, he fully clothed. She was on her stomach, clutching a pillow, sprawled perpendicular. He had propped himself up against the ornate headboard, pulled her leg into his lap, and absently massaging her bare foot.

He seemed to prefer things this way. She learned to let her hair down before he summoned her, to appear comfortable with him and interested in what he had to say. In return, his touches were gentle, and he never attempted a repeat performance of the first night. 

Thalia worried he was biding his time, to capture her with her guard down. Then she wondered if he would dare, or whether the humiliation had proved too much. Or maybe, deep down, he was ashamed. It was difficult to tell. Samson carried on as a man in the midst of a delusion — as if she had chosen him from the start. As if the name Cullen did not exist. 

“You seem far away.” The words slipped from her mouth without her permission. She could have done with more silence. Sometimes he talked, but was careful to reveal only broad strokes: his men were restless, Empress Calpernia was trying his patience, Corypheus had not done him the courtesy of returning his messages. He did not trust her, nor was she sure he ever would. Thalia knew someone braver would try, would do whatever it took. She did not possess that fortitude.

“Hmm?” Samson roused, blinking at her with languid eyes. How much of the red had he taken today? Enough to keep his hands from shaking. His fingers were warm as they encircled her ankle. The knuckle in her sole felt almost pleasant. “I’m right here. Nothing to worry about.” 

Playacting, that’s what this was. She had to feign concern, so he could believe in the version of her that existed in his head. Thalia sat up, frowning. One side of her shift slipped off her shoulder and she didn’t bother to pull it back into place. “Are you sure?” 

No, he wasn���t sure. He was too taut, like a bowstring about to snap. “I’ve got to address the troops tomorrow. They’re being sent off to—” Samson caught himself at the last moment, grimacing. “Don’t matter where. They should hear from their general before they go.” 

You can tell me. That’s what she should say, drawing closer to him. Maybe if she sat in his lap again, and played with the plum collar of his tunic, she could pry it from him. 

No. He would see through that. Maybe he’d get angry and backhand her. The force of the blow from one so fueled by red lyrium could crack bone with little effort. 

“A speech,” she said instead, and Samson nodded. 

“To boost morale. Morale is so bloody important, when you ask your men to lay everything down for you.”

He ought to know, she supposed. Thalia had seen Sahrnia quarry, had seen Maddox die for him. Cullen had called him a friend, once. Samson inspired something in people, that much was obvious. She drew a little closer, dipping her head demurely. “You could practice, perhaps. On me?” 

Samson’s eyebrows shot up into his high forehead, but his eyes betrayed the desire. “You wanna hear it?” 

She nodded. “If you wish to share it.”

“It’s not — well. It’s sort of something that mostly exists up here.” He tapped his temple. “Comes out best in the moment, I think.”

Embarrassed? Thalia wondered. He’ll run his mouth to rally the Red Templars to his cause, but he won’t let his guard down in front of a woman? It tracked, but she still found it curious. 

She could tell him she did this sort of thing with Cullen frequently. Brainstorming sessions often lasted late into the night. And sometimes, they’d adjourn up the ladder to his quarters, where she sunk into his bed and he showered her with soft kisses—

Best not. 

“I’m sure it’s very inspiring,” Thalia said lightly. 

Samson smiled. Most of his teeth were quite grey. He reached out a hand. “C’mere.”

Thalia slid closer. He encircled her with his arms and she settled against his chest. He liked this. She suspected she could fake this better part than paid company. The only part. 

He wound a finger in her hair. Thalia closed her eyes and pretended it was Cullen. She could endure this, just for a little longer. Dorian was due in Val Royeaux soon with his retinue of Venatori, and then… maybe…

“What are you thinking, little lamb?” Samson put his thumb under her chin and turned her head, gently, to face him.

“Just wondering if you could tell me a story,” Thalia lied. 

“What? Like a bedtime story?” He let out a raspy guffaw. 

Thalia shrugged. He liked her docile and meek, now that he had her. Should she not play into his perception that she was a child? “I don’t know. You didn’t want to try your speech on me—”

“Oh, she’s very cross about that, is she?” 

“—I’m just saying, it might be useful to workshop your ideas.” Maker, what was she on about? She should leave the stupid speech alone.

Now he was practically in hysterics, doubled over and laughing so hard he went into a coughing fit. Thalia slapped him on the back without thinking; then, horrified, withdrew. He recovered a few seconds later, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. 

“You are something else, love.” 

“All right, fine. Tell me something true, then. Tell me— why you decided to become a Templar.” She grasped the topic out of the air, though deep down she had always wondered. Cullen had been scant on the details of Samson’s origins; just that they had been friendly before Samson’s expulsion. 

He narrowed his eyes at her, as if to gauge whether she was serious. “Why do you wanna know that?”

“Because.” It implies you had a shred of honor once. “I’m curious.” 

Samson sighed, scraping his hand down his narrow face. “Fine. It were a long time ago now, twenty years or more. You must have been a babe at the breast at the time.” The thought didn’t seem to trouble him. “I was, shall we say, a man of humble means back then. I had nothing, came from nothing. Classic story of Lowtown through and through, see?” 

Thalia nodded. “A beggar?”

He smirked. “Nah, nothing so noble. Young men don’t have the patience, neither. Easier to take the coin than ask.” 

“So a thief?”

“Cutpurse, more like. Thieves tend to plan heists, join guilds or the Carta. Kids are less organized; just trying to eat, usually.” 

Thalia swallowed hard. She found such an existence difficult to imagine. Samson nodded, as if reading her mind. “Don’t expect you know much about it.” 

“I’m sorry, I… that sounds challenging.”

Samson snorted. “Not looking for pity. Just telling you how it was.” 

“How did you go from that to a… Templar?” She had always assumed Templars usually came from noble stock, given her own family’s history. Cullen had been a notable exception. 

Samson chuckled. “One day, I got too bold. I tried to pickpocket Knight-Commander Guylian himself. Caught me red-handed.”  

Thalia’s eyes widened. “And? Did he… let you go?”

“No!” Samson laughed heartily. “Had me arrested on the spot, o’ course. I spent a few days languishing in the city jail, thinking I was gonna lose a hand, or worse.” He paused. “Till Guylian came to see me. He was in good with the city guard. They owed him a few favors. I still don’t know why he bothered. I didn’t give him any reason to see potential in me. But he said a few things.  He didn’t sugarcoat it, mind. I never would have gone for a bunch of platitudes. There’s always someone in that city trying to save degenerate souls from themselves. I dunno.” Samson shrugged. “He said, ‘I’m looking for people who understand Kirkwall. There’s too many coddled nobles in my ranks. Come see me if you want to put your skills to better use.’ And then I was released.” 

Thalia’s mouth was agape. “Just like that?”

Samson nodded. “Just like that. I thought about it for a bit, nursed my wounded pride, went on a couple benders…. Then a few weeks later there I was, standing in the Gallows courtyard, asking to be let into recruitment training.”

“That is… quite a story.” Thalia sat up, shaken. It felt too easy to root for the young man in the story. She could see him, quite clearly, as a heroic underdog.

“What’s wrong?” He brushed the hair from her shoulder. “You think I made that up?”

“I don’t know.” She wanted to call him a liar. It would be better to believe he had invented the tale, striving to impress her with a cultivated persona.

“Well, I didn’t. For what it’s worth.” Samson sighed. “’S just a shame, you know. Guylian really believed in what he did. Thought he could make a difference. He didn’t realize, and me neither, until it was much too late.” 

“Realize what?” Thalia breathed.

Samson let out a weary chuckle. “That ambition will stamp out honor every time, love. Those who want power — they will take it, by any means necessary.”

“I suppose that was a lesson hard learned,” Thalia said softly. 

“Indeed. But I’ll never make that mistake again.” 

Nor will I, Thalia thought.

[twst-drabbles]

Who do you think are the most kinky and the most vanilla characters in NRC?

Oof that's a hard one cause there's a distinct difference between being kinky and being horny. For example, I'm ace all the way, but I'm a kinky as fuck individual ranging from edging all the way to pain play. I don't get horny so much as I get an immense power high from it from having them squirm.

So, with that out of the way, let's take a look at kink levels.

The most vanilla have to be Riddle, Deuce, Jack, Sebek, Idia, and Malleus. Vanilla, as in they haven't had time or are in the correct situation to explore their kinks.

Riddle is certainly hesitant on exploring such subjects and is going to need a caring hand to help him discover the things he likes. He's very easy to overstimulate and isn't exactly into that so one has to have patience with him and take it slow.

Deuce is simple. He likes being praised, told he's a good boy and all that. Most of the time though, whatever kink you might be into, he'll try it out for your sake. His enjoyment is mostly tied into how you enjoy things, but do keep away from extremes like knife play or consensual non-consensual role-playing. He gets a little into his head and it hurts more than it helps.

Yeah, Jack. He's into some kinks but they're mostly little things, such as blindfolds and just a general light sub-dom dynamics that are just orders. He doesn't particularly crave them and mostly just wants to lay in bed together. Another sensual lover. So yeah, he has some kinks but they're not his priority. And will probably go without them 70% of the time.

Sebek...need I say more? The man is so focused on his current goals in life and sharpening his own self that the thought of jacking rarely crosses his mind. He keeps himself busy, too busy actually. Getting horny is just another test for him to endure, an obstacle that keeps him from being the best he can be.

Idia has a unique love-hate relationship with kinks. He certainly imagines indulging in bondage or somnophilia or other such things but actually bringing them to reality? Makes him want to shrink himself. That being said, he's another dude that's easy to overwhelm. Take it slow and wait for him to being up kinks in his own time.

Malleus, I know people like to say he has to be kinky with a breeding kink but nope, he's another dude that gives me ace vibes. Is definitely aware of the things people are into but they really do nothing to him. And then he proceeds to never think on that subject again. His mind lingers on other stuff, such as his princely duties and his hobbies. That being said, he isn't strongly against kinks either. Whatever your want to experiment, he's willing to try.

Now for the kinky, it be Ace, Epel, Ruggie, Rook, Lilia, Jade and Floyd.

Ace knows what he wants. He knows what he likes and what he doesn't. Though, that being said, dude's never truly experimented so the experience is going to be something else for him.

Epel...oh boy. Man is going to speedrun any all kinks he can find. His poor browser history. Truly, the wonders of the internet.

Ruggie is always willing to try and see if he enjoys it. Normal sex is nice and all but he gets bored easy. He wants to try new things after all. But, the aftercare has to stay the same, if only to help pull him out of his headspace.

Ah, Rook. He's kind of an obvious one. Definitely into some power play where he's at your mercy. Much like Floyd, he's willing to experiment with the more extreme side of kinks and is very, veeeery into some role-play.

Oh Lilia has experimented, no doubt about that, and finds that he really likes being a fucking brat. A menace, a tease, someone who you just want to both kick and fuck him to shut up. Really, you can't get truly angry at him. It's the fun kind of irritation, cause you both know he wants you to put him in his place.

Jade and Floyd are into humiliation, though in different categories. Jade is more into verbal degradation, likes being made to feel like he's less than a person and is just someone to be used, while Floyd likes to be hurt and spat at. Of course, they're both insufferable when the play is over and need aftercare. Floyd's a cuddler and Jade needs a good back rub.

As for everyone else, they're in this nebulous zone of "Not kinky, not vanilla either," a sort of flexible zone where, depending on the partners they have, will end up either more kinky or more vanilla. So, people such as Kalim, Jamil, Azul, Silver, Trey, Cater, Leona and Vil are under that specific zone.

At least, that's how it is in my head.

Again, this is kinks, not levels of horny.

[chickenparm]

Ilya smut???? written by you??? please tell me what shall I sacrifice to get it??? I can give you my whole soul if that's enough

y'know what? yeah okay i got you. all i want in return is a little smooch from you, anon and also more excuses to talk about my best boy (art is by @drawlypsy, as usual lmfao)

Make my Day

Ilya/f!Reader 1,424 Words - NSFW (PWP, Consensual voyeurism, f!Masturbation, pre-established relationship)

---

"Well, little dove?" Ilya's eyebrows raise as he looks at you, full of amusement and expectation. A pen spins idly in his fingers, showing a dexterity that’s unsurprising. "You asked if there's anything that'll make my day. I think my request was reasonable."

You meet his gaze with false confidence, doing your best to mask the way your heart races with a nauseating mixture of anxiety and anticipation. Your question had been asked in complete innocence, posed without ulterior motive nor less-than-pure intent. Yet you should’ve known that it’d be twisted in this way. 

Lift up your skirt and show me.

It had been a heavy request, contrasting with your pure intentions. This is hardly the first time that the two of you have been intimate - you’ve lost count, really - but Ilya has a way of making your nerves spark and your heart race like it’s the first time, every time. 

With a thick swallow, you sit more comfortably in the chair across from his desk, then part your thighs enough to give him a view as you begin lifting the fabric up to your waist. Ilya’s eyes burn with anticipation of his own as he continues to forgo his work, focusing solely on every inch of your thighs that’s revealed. 

The easy smile on his face sharpens to a razor edge when the first bit of lace comes into view, stitched prettily onto high-quality silk. It’s far too easy to feel muddled and overwhelmed under his attention as it is, but the way he openly appreciates the sight of your underwear compounds this feeling one-hundred fold.

Ilya pulls his lip between his teeth for just a moment, letting it slide out before remarking, “That’s a pretty pair you’ve picked out. For me?”

Bashfully, you nod. Unable to hold eye-contact, instead looking at the lacquered desk in front of him. With your hands clutching the fabric to your stomach, you’re able to hide the way they’re trembling. At least, you thought you were, but Ilya is always watching, even when he seems distracted. His voice is smooth as he calms your frazzled nerves. “You’ve nothing to be nervous about. Let’s just enjoy the moment together, hm?”

The subtext isn’t lost on you; he has a desire to see even more. It’s a slippery slope when it comes to your activities with Ilya - what might start as a peck to the cheek could end up with you bent over some surface or another. Curling next to him in bed might lead to you muffling your cries in the sheets as he greedily chases his release, then ensures you find your own with everything at his disposal. His cock, his fingers, his tongue - nothing’s off limits when he’s of a mind to see you ruined. 

Like now, except it’s not his fingers he expects you to get off with. With a tilt of his head, he props his cheekbone on his knuckles and gives needless direction. “The chair has arms - use them. Let me see everything you’re doing.”

Blood rushes in your ears at a cacophonous level as you shift even further back in the large chair, hook one knee over the arm, then the other. The spread is lewd, but his eyes seem to light up brilliantly that you’re doing everything he asks of you - almost as if he expected you wouldn’t. 

With your fingertips, you drag up the skin of your inner thigh, guiding his eyes back to where he seems to be so interested in. The first touch against yourself makes you inhale sharply, synchronizing with his pleased exhalation. “There you go. Keep going, my day’s getting better by the minute, dove.”

The encouragement is addicting, another weakness of yours that he’s picked up on with so little effort, and he wields it like a weapon against any sanity you might have left. Ilya swings as if pendulous between quick and dirty, slow and sensual - today you decide for him that it’s the latter. Instead of pulling the fabric to the side, you continue to touch yourself through the fabric with slow, methodical motions that leave you a little breathless. 

It’s teasing him, sure, but you’re also doing the same thing to yourself. And Ilya likes that just as much. 

The fabric grows damp, clinging to you in ways that you know leave very little to the imagination - and oh, does Ilya imagine rather vividly. His hand that doesn’t prop against his cheekbone raises, making a little motion to the side with his finger, lazily instructing you to keep going. To take it a step further, so he can gauge exactly how many of those steps he can persuade you to make. 

Breath shuddering, you hook your damp fingers around your underwear, pulling it to the side. Maybe a bit spitefully, you use that same hand to spread yourself open, taking all that imagination away from him - nothing is left out of view, not with this position he’s put you in without even having to touch you. 

“Go on, don’t be shy now.” Ilya leans back in his chair, looking for all the world as if he’s won some prize. Perhaps he has, but it’s not as if it’s something he truly had to work hard for. For him, all it takes is a few well-placed words and a pointed expression, and you’re all but putty between those long fingers of his. 

The wet sound your fingers make as they glide along yourself have him sitting up a little straighter in his chair - he isn’t immune to any of this, as much as he likes to pretend he is. But you won’t call his bluff, at least not verbally. It’s in the subtleties that you bite back, like the movement of your hips as you slide one finger inside with agonizing slowness. 

Maybe you lay it on just a little thick when you moan at the sensation, letting your head fall back as you hook that finger inside the exact way he would if it were his hands instead of yours. But the intended effect happens, and Ilya’s eyes burn as you add a second one, as your palm grinds against your clit.

Ilya burns with desire, with hunger, but he won’t indulge. Not yet, not while this little game continues. And he can’t even punish you for it - not when this is exactly what he asked for to “make his day better”. 

Visibly you shake, rocking your hips against the motion of your own hand, as much as you can with the way you’re spread open for him like this. No pleasure is enough to stop you from the little streak of pettiness you carry, and you have enough mind to quietly whine, “Ngh… Ilya…”

The squeal of his chair being shoved backward catches your attention - you think he’s snapped, that he fooled himself into a trap of his own making. Yet he simply leans on the desk with both palms flat, watching wide-eyed and unblinking as you work yourself higher and higher for his viewing pleasure. 

It takes surprisingly little for you to get this close - the combination of his gaze, of the suddenness of his request, the mild depravity makes you squirm. Then, a flash of pink, his tongue wetting his lips with palpable longing, he murmurs, “That’s it, dove. Just a little more for me.”

Maybe it’s your fingers hitting something deeper than you can normally reach, or your palm grinding circles, or even just the way his voice takes on a lower pitch to roll through you like the rising of a tide. 

With that tide comes the finale he demands, and you’re no longer putting on airs about your sounds of pleasure. Ilya’s face splitting into a grin is the last thing you see before your head snaps back and you moan shamelessly at your release, clumsily working your way through it with little grace - only passion and something wanton that you can’t quite describe fully. 

Your hand pulls back, falling to your thigh and leaving a glistening smear as visible proof of exactly what you’ve just done - if your heaving breaths and half-lidded gaze weren’t enough. The fabric of your skirt falls as you no longer prop your legs on the armrests of the chair, and modesty returns, however meager it might be. 

Ilya leans on the desk as if he were a statue - a flushed, panting carving of marble and porcelain that keeps you pinned in place with the eyes of a predator.

[wooyoungisbaby]

oh my god. youre just RIGHT out of the gate with little spoon Woo, with pretty marks on his neck?? im gonna die i think.

he cannot stand up against your superior strength.

oh. ohoho.

your seven mates surrounding you in a wide circle.

ohh i wonder who they are :3c eheheh jk i know

human wooyoung cuddling wolf reader, that's so cute ;o; he's so trusting and sweet aaaa!!! i'm imagining these wolves being way bigger than humans but, idk if you intended it that way, but it makes it cuter to me, this and the turning ceremony as well. he is just a smol helpless hoomin..

your chest ached when he cried out in pain at your bite

oH SAME WHAT THE HECK im T AT i know it's ~consensual~ and all but the mental image of him crying out in pain hurts so much

You always needed to treat Wooyoung like glass, knowing how easily you could break him

ACK again with the trust!! i bet he didn't even think twice before surrendering his body to the pack, even knowing they could easily kill him T_T i love him sm

Loneliness had carved a deep, dry well in his chest cavity; never realising the depths of his emptiness until you and your mates submerged him in a lake of care and devotion

i love this metaphor so so much. there's something incredibly tangible about the img of something bone-dry becoming saturated with water.

MOBIUS STRIP MENTION!!!!! one of the most ateez objects of all time <3

"Remember Hongjoong? Yeosang?"

-tries really hard not to think about the two of them having hot werewolf sex with reader for the first time-

the first thing you see is San, who is face-down in the grass, yelping as Mingi and Wooyoung playfully got him pinned down

You can't help but put San in situations™ can you? <3

you can taste him on your tongue; his excitement, his impatience, his need to be taken and claimed by his alpha

he is a sub in every universe amen 🙏

pleaseeee it's so cute how he has 0 toxic masculinity about Reader being stronger and faster than him, it's all just energetic excitedness at being given a challenge :')

You revel in his innocent, breathless laugh, the lively spark in his eyes

your honour i am in love with him

Wooyoung makes a tearful noise [...]

aaaa this whole paragraph!! it has the vibes of that trope where supernatural creatures that have to consciously will a glamour spell to keep working to hide smht they're ashamed of, and then it fails bc they're so needy (but also they barely even register it bc theyre so wrecked). imagining him with glowing yellow eyes with vertical pupils, the ""monstrousness"" of them a sharp contrast to his pleading expression. i love it when ""monsters"" beg and whimper <3

perhaps ‘behave’ is too cruel a demand to make of him right now.

my inner wooyoung: isn't it always? u_u

auuuugh he was tearing up when he knotted!! :(((( (affectionate) that's the cutest, it's so good how he's just completely overwhelmed.

him licking at the mating bite even though he's so exhausted TAT <3333 he's the sweetest best mate and boy

Wooyoung is slightly undersized for a wolf

bahaha ofc <3

Seonghwa takes the last turn to reacquaint himself with Wooyoung, and immediately tries to groom his future mate, nipping at his fur

NAWWWW THATS TOO CUTE ;A;

hnshfhfnf not him attacking jongho, of course he would

NOW if you'll excuse me, i gotta go think for a really long time about his 7 other matings.

no but fr, your ability to perfectly portray Woo's rambunctious, easy going nature is so good T_T <3

marked [jwy x reader]

pairing: Wooyoung x gn afab reader (briefly feat. Yunho & background poly ot8)

rating: 18+

genre: smut, fluff, werewolf AU, found family

summary: Wooyoung is the newest member of your pack, and under tonight’s full moon you will claim him as your mate. (OR: Wooyoung knots for the very first time and you fuck him through it 👀)

wc: 8.1k

warnings: sub Wooyoung, dom alpha reader, reader is physically stronger than Wooyoung, predator / prey play, knotting, breeding kink, dacryphilia, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected vaginal sex, creampies, stomach bulge / cum inflation, biting & marking (w/ light blood mention), cunnilingus, face-sitting, cum eating, reader has a mild possessive streak, implied m x m, Wooyoung is called ‘good boy’ & ‘pup’, a sprinkling of hurt / comfort

a/n: @wooyoungisbaby asked me if i would turn Wooyoung into a werewolf & then i blacked out and suddenly there were 8k of words on my screen ฅV•̀ᴥ•́Vฅ

a/n²: idk how to put this in the warnings but werewolves have an estrous reproductive cycle in this fic, and there is an off-hand mention that the reader is not currently fertile. just to balance out my own ‘love breeding kink, squicked by pregnancy’ conundrum ^^

Sunlight trickles through the cherry trees overhead, a light canopy of pastel pinks looking down on you and Wooyoung. The gentle sunlight warms you with the glow of spring, a blossom swirling down the breeze to land right on Wooyoung’s nose.

He barely even notices, too busy fussing in your embrace. You’re curled up against his back, and your arms have him pulled into your chest, legs tangled together. There is a blooming tapestry of red marks on his neck; gentle indents of your teeth, slow bruises sucked into his delicate skin.

You blow the cherry blossom off his nose with a giggle, and the pink petal flutters down into the grass, luscious green brimming with white and yellow daisies. The flowers give off a pleasantly sweet waft but you are not interested in floral aromas, only in the alluring scent radiating from Wooyoung’s heated body.

You burrow your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in deep as Wooyoung whines in your hold.

“Easy, pup,” you coo at him, and lightly pinch his waist in warning. “Don’t want to wear yourself out before tonight, do you?”

“I won’t, I won’t,” he says, wiggling in your arms. He hisses when your teeth sink into the tender skin of his neck again, the noise morphing into a breathy, pitched moan as you lap at the bite. “Just wanna play…”

You giggle at his protests; Wooyoung is easily the most rambunctious pup you have ever dealt with.

Sometimes you find it most effective to fuck the misbehaviour out of him, to burn off all his frenzied energy as you ride him — or to make him wear himself out on your cunt, your fingers tightly wrapped in his hair as you hold him down, his mouth eager to please.

But sometimes, that feels like just a bit too much of a reward for his mischievous ways.

For those moments, you prefer your current strategy; to force Wooyoung into a cuddle, spooning him as you playfully gnaw on his neck and shoulder. If you hold him down long enough, his endless squirming will tire him out just the same as any other method. Wooyoung might be energetic — but he is a young pup, turned only four weeks ago, whereas you are a born wolf, and he cannot stand up against your superior strength.

It’s hard to believe he has been in your life for barely a year; Wooyoung was all alone in the world when you stumbled on him during a hunt; a lonely, pitiful creature with no-one else to turn to. Your wolf had demanded for you to grant him protection and you listened, never led astray by your canine instincts. You brought him into the pack, where your mates welcomed him with open arms.

At first, it was just a visit; so he could catch his breath, rest up and decide what to do next. But when Wooyoung decided to extend his stay indefinitely, he soon decided he wanted to be turned as well.

(If there’s one thing you quickly learned about Wooyoung, it’s that he never does things halfway. It was you and your mates who talked him into waiting for a while, until he was absolutely sure, but Wooyoung never wavered.)

You were the one to do the honours, pinning him down under the light of the full moon, your seven mates surrounding you in a wide circle. Wooyoung had seen you in wolf form before; he’d even napped while curled up against your huge lycan body, engulfed in dark fur — but it was never like this, never with your jaws snapping right in his face, clawed paws heavy on his chest as your scorching breaths fell down on his vulnerable, tiny figure. You were careful not to crush him, of course, but he needed to keep still; no matter how willing he was, a human’s instinct runs deep when a predator’s maw closes around their weak flesh.

Wooyoung was not immune to those instincts, and your chest ached when he cried out in pain at your bite. His hands pushed uselessly against your head, but you are strong even for a wolf; and the limited capacities of his fragile human body stood no chance against you at the height of your power, basking in moonlight.

You had lapped at his wound afterwards, easing him through his shakes as your saliva mixed with his blood, broken skin mending under your raspy tongue into a darkened scar as the first seed of his transformation took hold.

For four weeks now, Wooyoung’s body has been changing under the surface. It comes with restless agitation, giving him more energy and stamina than he knows what to do with, yet the process is also exhausting; a slow adjustment to his heightened senses, stronger muscles, an increased sensitivity to the presence of others — your presence especially, as the one who turned him.

And tonight is an important stage in Wooyoung’s lycan life; the next full moon. His first complete transformation, catalysed by the moon’s bright luminescence.

The reshaping of his human body into a wolf is a symbolic milestone, but it will also unlock Wooyoung’s full potential, allowing him to grow into his full strength. With time, he will even learn to transform regardless of the night sky — though only few werewolves are powerful enough to deny a full moon.

(You are, but you see little reason to ever deny the celestial body that has given you so much.)

Now, lazing in the sun together, you lap at the scar you left on Wooyoung’s skin that night. All your other bites always heal rapidly but this one lingers, and always will. You are eager for tonight, when you get to add a second permanent mark to him. To imprint on him as your mate.

Your neck and shoulders are already littered with the seven bites of your other mates, binding their spirits to yours, but there is always room for one more; especially if that one more is your Wooyoung, your playful, mischievous pup whose sensitive heart bursts with love and easy affection.

Of course, you have laid with Wooyoung long before tonight — as have your other mates. You always needed to treat Wooyoung like glass, knowing how easily you could break him; but Wooyoung never made it easy to hold back.

Loneliness had carved a deep, dry well in his chest cavity; never realising the depths of his emptiness until you and your mates submerged him in a lake of care and devotion, replenishing his marred soul. Hungrily, Wooyoung had taken anything that you felt safe to give him, while he freely gave back all he had.

These past four weeks, you have tested his limits together, watched how they stretched further and further as Wooyoung slowly grows into his powers — and tonight, you won’t have to hold back any longer.

“Wanna play…” Wooyoung whines again, and you follow his gaze to San and Mingi, who are laughing and rough-housing by the edge of the nearby brook, just down a gentle slope of grassland.

You hesitate, not wanting to let go of Wooyoung. But… are you still holding onto him just to keep him well-behaved? Long years of sharing your mates have taught you to recognise a possessive streak when you feel one, and the resistance against releasing Wooyoung from your arms feels awfully familiar.

Maybe it’s nothing but greed; your urge to trap Wooyoung in your arms, to flood yourself in his scent, to keep his neck littered with your bites.

You had found Wooyoung, you had turned him, and a primal instinct calls out from deep within you, to always remind the others that you claimed him for his first full moon.

But from somewhere deep underneath the possessive wolf, you know very well that it would do Wooyoung good to stay bonded with your other mates — his future mates. They will respect your claim.

You tip Wooyoung’s chin, lightly pecking his lips. “Promise to save some energy for me, my sweet pup,” you smile at him, and loosen your grip.

Wooyoung perks up when you release him from your hold — but instead of immediately bolting off to San and Mingi, he turns around in your arms to dive in for a deep, heated kiss. He sucks at your bottom lip, repaying your bites with one of his own. You yelp in surprise at his sudden passion, and Wooyoung giggles at the undignified noise, his laugh bright and filled with adoration.

“I will,” he breathes between kisses. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” His lips brush against your neck and shoulders, against the seven marks that he will join tonight. “Wanna be with you. So badly.”

“But first you wanna play,” you tease him, and lightly push him away, before your possessive nature takes over and you can never let him go ever again. “Go. They’re waiting for you. Just like I will.”

Wooyoung presses one final kiss to your neck, then lets himself be pushed away and joins San and Mingi. You watch them with an odd mingle of jealousy and joy; joy to see Wooyoung’s happiness with your other mates, jealous to see them without you.

It is a familiar maze to navigate; you are no stranger to possessive urges, yet you also feel blessed beyond measure that your mates love each other as much as they love you. The two feelings are in conflict yet forever intertwined; they are less two sides of the same coin, and more the sides of the same mobius strip; inherently connected, endlessly feeding into one another.

However, you are broken out of your musings by a gentle breeze from behind you. It brings a familiar scent that effortlessly tears the mobius strip in half, halting its flow through your emotions.

You turn around to see Yunho standing underneath one of the cherry trees, a few blossoms sticking to his dark hair and a faint smile on his face as he observes how the good-natured wrestling between San, Mingi and Wooyoung has turned into a rowdy cuddle pile. Yunho notices you looking at him, and he gives you a slow nod, eyes twinkling. You reach out a hand, beckoning him closer, and his smile deepens.

Yunho’s long fingers wrap around yours, never letting go as he sits down next to you in the grass. Immediately you take advantage of his proximity, wiggling yourself between his legs to curl up against his warm chest.

Yunho chuckles at your need for touch, loosely putting his arms around your waist. It’s a stark contrast to how you held Wooyoung earlier; Yunho does not fear the loss of you, resting in the tempered confidence from years of devotion. His mark on your neck is the oldest, and your eyes flutter shut as you luxuriate in the comfort of his scent, like earthy woods and petrichor. You didn’t realise just how badly you missed the grounding familiarity of him until right this second, and you sigh out in bliss, leaning deeper into him.

For just a moment, you let go of your possessive jealousy over Wooyoung — but Yunho does not.

“Gotta admit, didn’t think I’d see you separated from Wooyoung’s side anytime this month. Especially not today,” he chuckles, rubbing a lazy hand over your waist.

A self-conscious warmth flushes under your skin. Yunho does always see you clearest. “I got a little carried away, didn’t I?”

“No more than last time,” he says, a quiet laugh rumbling in his chest. “Or any time before. Remember Hongjoong? Yeosang? We practically had to drag you off of them to give those poor guys some peace and quiet.”

“I was taking care of them!” you huff, even if you know Yunho’s right.

“And you’re taking good care of Wooyoung now,” Yunho says, and he presses a soft kiss on your temple. “I’m not saying it’s bad — I’m so happy that we have Wooyoung now, really,” he murmurs, gathering you a little closer in his arms. “But… I did miss you these last weeks. Especially knowing there won’t be a hunt tonight…”

“Oh? You think you would’ve been the one to catch me?” you tease Yunho, poking his chest. “Confident, aren’t we!”

“Think I would’ve had a good shot,” Yunho says, grin widening.

A faint heat sparks inside you at his easy confidence, bringing back memories of how he earned that confidence over and over again. “I missed you too,” you admit, feeling apologetic. You had promised to lead your mates on a chase under the full moon again soon; but through your refusal to share Wooyoung with the others, you also stopped sharing yourself. “We will make up for time after Wooyoung has settled, I swear.”

“I know we will,” Yunho hums. “For now, keep taking care of our Wooyoung first. The pup needs you to get through tonight.”

You glance up at Wooyoung — but the first thing you see is San, who is face-down in the grass, yelping as Mingi and Wooyoung playfully got him pinned down; Wooyoung’s teeth are locked around San’s bicep while Mingi laughs, nipping at his mark on San’s neck.

“…Or maybe San is the one who needs you?” Yunho says, cocking his head at the chaos in front of him.

San laughs helplessly, resigned to his fate, until he realises they are being watched. He wheezes out a weak “help!” as he reaches out to you and Yunho, a desperate dimple poking at his cheek.

Yunho muffles a laugh with his hand, and gives you a sideways grin. “I’ll get Mingi, you handle Wooyoung?”

You grin back at Yunho. “Oh, I’ll handle him alright.”

The day’s warmth has cooled in the hours of dusk, but there is nothing to cool the blood pulsing through your veins, running hot with canine hunger. The wolf inside you is utterly transfixed on Wooyoung; your senses are growing ever more keen as the moon bathes you in her light, and the scent of Wooyoung is almost overwhelming now. His sweetness permeates the air so thick that you can taste him on your tongue; his excitement, his impatience, his need to be taken and claimed by his alpha. By you.

Wooyoung turns his head, eyes glittering darkly as they meet yours, an agitated energy crackling around him.

This is all new to him, you remind yourself. He does not know what to do with all these untamed impulses that pound against his chest and growl in the back of his head. You will teach him, show him exactly how to control the wolf, and how to let it run free. You will show him everything.

And Wooyoung may be a predator now, but you shall devour him all the same.

You stand together at the forest’s edge, but your gaze lingers on Wooyoung’s exposed collarbones, already contemplating where to leave your mating bite. Right next to the mark of when you turned him? Or do you want to cover as many different parts of him as you can? Both options are tempting in their own ways.

For now, you simply cup the back of Wooyoung’s head and pull him close so you can kiss your first mark on him. “Remember the clearing we picked out?” you murmur, tongue darting out over the old scar tissue. “Let’s make a race of it. You get there before I do, I’ll have a nice surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” Wooyoung says, his eyes shining with eager curiosity. “You’re on.”

Without warning, he bolts deeper into the forest, giving himself a generous head’s start as he leaves you behind. Your most rambunctious pup, for sure.

You grin, pleased at the challenge he gives you.

Just to give him fairer odds, you wait a little longer. You breathe in deeply as you pull the lingering scent of Wooyoung into your lungs, and clench your muscles, feeling your lupine power in just a simple contraction. You can still hear him in the distance, twigs breaking underfoot, the rustling of the underbrush. He is getting farther now, embracing his newfound agility; perhaps even thinking he stands a chance. You lick your lips at the thought, knowing how misguided it would be… then you leap into motion, starting your pursuit.

The wolf revels in this opportunity to show off its full power, and you dart through the woods with nimble swiftness. A faint cloud-cover hangs in the sky above, but the moon still pierces through to provide ample light. You do not need it, not with your keen senses guiding you; but for Wooyoung the illumination will surely be helpful to try and beat you to the clearing.

You can smell Wooyoung’s excitement in the air; you can hear him pant for breath as he pushes his body to new limits, fevered blood rushing through him with every pump of his heart, and his eagerness to outrun you feeds right into your own thrill of the chase.

Because for you, it’s not about whether Wooyoung beats you to the clearing.

For you, it’s about the hunt.

You are not as skilled a tracker as your other mates, but you don’t need to be. You know exactly where Wooyoung is going, and he is not subtle in making his way.

It does not take you long to catch up with Wooyoung, spurred on by your need to pounce on him, to finally claim what is rightfully yours. Wooyoung does not notice your presence immediately; he may be empowered by the moon same as you, but he is not as practised at making use of his gifts.

But when he does catch sight of you, your sudden proximity goads Wooyoung’s competitive spirit to new heights, completely unaware of the fact that he is not a competitor; he is prey. You revel in his innocent, breathless laugh, the lively spark in his eyes — eyes that widen when you lunge, right at him.

There is no real force behind your tackle, just playfully grabbing onto him to fall into a tumble together — then immediately release him. Wooyoung scrambles back on his feet, staring at you with wide eyes, his heart slamming against his rib-cage. His hair is in disarray, leafs and twigs stuck in the longish strands, a light scratch across his cheek.

“What was that?” he blurts out; miffed, but not entirely displeased. His scent easily gives that away.

“Better keep running, young pup,” you warn him, a light growl edging into your voice, lips curving to expose sharpened teeth.

Something about your grin causes a skip in Wooyoung’s pulse as he finally realises the true nature of your game. His human instincts have not yet faded entirely, a small bump of fear in his throat — but it is mere background noise in the heady waft of arousal that you catch in the air. Wooyoung is excited.

However, he is also not ready to submit to you, his rebellious spirit still burning strong. “Then you better keep up, old-timer,” he says, grinning right back at you.

He gives you no chance to respond to his taunt, dashing off through the woods again. Already Wooyoung is getting faster than before, and for a moment you indulge him again, letting him believe he is pulling ahead. The clearing is nearby; you can see it in the distance, cloud-cover pulling away to bathe the area in radiant moonlight, setting the forest aglow.

Wooyoung laughs in triumph at the sight; it is cute how confident he is of victory… but not cute enough to let him have it.

Again, you tackle him to the ground — and this time, you do not give Wooyoung an easy escape. He yipes, struggling on pure impulse as you wrestle him down, rolling over the rough forest until you pin down his arms and come to a stop, right on a soft patch of moss.

He whines and instinctively tries to throw you off him, but your grip on him is too tight. He stills when you drape yourself over him, breath scorching against his neck. The vein beneath your lips throbs.

“Surprise,” you whisper, and latch onto his throat.

Wooyoung cries out, back arching as he scrambles to grab onto your shoulders, hips jerking upward. He is hard against your thigh.

You draw a shuddering breath at how he squirms against your hold, exuding dizzying arousal from his pores. Already Wooyoung’s nails begin to elongate into claws, digging through your clothes to scrape at your shoulders. You giggle at his lack of control, allowing your teeth to sharpen as you nip at his jugular.

“Not so fast, my sweetling,” you say, trailing your mouth up to his jaw. “No need to rush. Let’s have some fun first.”

He shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut as he trembles, the beast within encroaching on his lucidity. “D-don’t know if I can—”

“You can,” you growl lowly, yanking his arms down to force them against the ground. “You will listen to your alpha, pup, and it’s not your time yet.”

Wooyoung whimpers in submission, tilting his head back as the wolf retreats with its tail tucked between its legs. You lap at the exposed skin of his neck to soothe the harshness of your reprimand, but it needed to be done.

Wooyoung is such an energetic pup; better he burns some of that energy now, to make his transformation easier to control. It’ll be hard enough on him as it is, and you will do anything within your power to smoothen the process.

Just lucky for you that the best way to help Wooyoung, is exactly what your own wolf calls out for; demanding for you to ravish Wooyoung until not an inch of his skin has gone untouched, to mark him as your own. To have him sink deep inside your waiting cunt, and take everything he has to give.

You press your mouth against his in a starved kiss, tongue delving past his willing lips as you pull and tear at his clothes, encouraging him to do the same with yours. Your fingers glide over Wooyoung’s chest, his stomach, his thighs, every part of him you can reach; never stopping the slow roll of your hips into his, hot mouth swallowing every moan wrested from Wooyoung’s throat by your aggressive worship.

His muffled keening makes your blood sing, but it is not enough, not nearly enough to sate you. You tear your lips away from his and Wooyoung whines at the loss, his moans free and loud and delectable.

Your wolf growls sweetly, pleased at Wooyoung’s shameless need for you, and for a moment you simply revel in his existence, his pretty noises, the pitiful way he writhes underneath you. You admire how his tanned skin glows under the moonlight, stars dancing in the reflection of his wide, dark eyes as he stares up at you in desperate reverence.

“Hmgh, w-want— want—” he babbles, a shimmer of unshed tears joining the vibrant constellation in his eyes.

You can’t help but marvel at how fortunate you are, to have found another beautiful mate to add to your devoted family. Your fingers play over his sharp jawline, his striking features merging together into such a pretty face. The face of someone who is so generous with his love and his mischief; using both to take care of his loved ones in all the ways they need — but first needing to be tamed himself.

“Hm? What do you want, Wooyoungie?” you purr at him, pushing away the tattered remains of clothes. His cock is hot and aching against your folds, but you don’t take him inside just yet. “Behave, and I might just give it to you.”

Wooyoung makes a tearful noise, grabbing at your waist and ass with sharpened claws. “Want you,” he whines, and you hiss at how his nails scrape at your skin. He tries not to scratch at you, but Wooyoung does not know his own body right now, struggling to comprehend both his limits and full capabilities. “Please, please, need you, it— it’s too much, I can’t—”

A thin sheen of sweat sets his skin further aglow, and his addled pleas slip deep between your ribs, appealing to the softer side of your wolf — with success. Because you are not only a predator; as an alpha, you are a caretaker as well.

And, looking at your sweet pup, whose lucidity is rapidly slipping through his clawed hands, who is frenzied and disoriented from what’s happening to him; perhaps ‘behave’ is too cruel a demand to make of him right now.

Gently you peel his hands off of you, and lift them to your lips to nip at his knuckles. “Breathe, my good boy, deep breaths,” you soothe him, rolling your hips a little firmer against his cock, giving him much-needed friction. “I’ll take care of you, don’t you worry.”

Wooyoung tries to follow instructions, drawing hitched breaths — but he chokes on a wretched groan when your hand wraps around the base of his cock, and guide him as you sink down with a blissful sigh, eyes fluttering shut. Your body is pliant for him, enveloping him in wet heat, and Wooyoung gasps with sharp, staccato moans as his hips jerk, body trembling. He claws at the moss underneath, leaving deeply etched trails in the dirt.

There is a subtle elongation in his joints, the faint crackling of bones and muscle shifting underneath skin as his veins grow more prominent. You bare your teeth, snarling lowly at his wolf to back off, but you know it won’t allow itself to be repressed for much longer. It’s almost time.

You rest your hands on Wooyoung’s chest to give yourself leverage, and start to move.

Wooyoung’s whines grow more animalistic by the second as you ride him hard and fast. He bucks up to meet your every thrust, pouring all his aggression into the slam of his hips. Your cunt twitches around his cock as he hits deep inside, a pleased growl rumbling inside your chest.

The forest is quiet around you, nothing but a soft rush of wind and rustling leafs; its inhabitants know better than to come near two wolves in their moon’s heat. Nothing except the sharp sounds of skin slapping against skin, of raspy moans and pleased snarls.

The heady smell of sweat and arousal mingles with the freshness of the woods, gentle moss and sweet blossoms. Slick leaks down your thighs and onto Wooyoung’s pelvis, and your own instincts become harder and harder to ignore with Wooyoung laying right there underneath you, flushed and splayed out over the forest ground with the vulnerable column of his neck beckoning for your attention. It’s too early for that, but still you drape yourself over him, slating your mouth over his in something that can’t decide whether it’s a bite or a kiss.

Wooyoung groans against your lips, so tightly wired he might snap at any moment. He is beyond desperate for a quick release of tension and you do your best to provide, relentless as you hump into his lap. His cock drags against your clit with every swerve of your hips, your thoughts becoming hazier with every spike of heat Wooyoung sends through you.

Unable to help yourself, your lips trail to his shoulder; the one unmarred by your other bite from turning him. You lap at the skin, exploratory grazes of your teeth as you kiss and suckle at Wooyoung until this side of his neck is completely reddened with bruises and faint teethmarks.

Wooyoung whimpers and snarls, his clawed hands back on your waist as he convulses underneath, the mounting pleasure just as overwhelming as his primal instincts. His skin is feverish, same as yours, sweat-slicked bodies coiled around one another, muscles rippling under the moonlight with brutal stamina.

Suddenly Wooyoung’s noises rise in pitch, and you can feel it before he can even slur the words out, tongue lolling in his mouth.

“F-fuck, it’s— It’s happening— I’m— I— mngh, ahh—”

He swells inside you and Wooyoung stutters out a broken cry when, for the first time in his life, his knot grows.

His jaw falls slack, voice stuck in his throat and tears brimming on his lashes. You tighten around him, hips forced to a halt by the swollen tissue at the base of Wooyoung’s cock, keeping him locked inside you as he shudders and floods your throbbing walls with white heat.

It’s enough to send you over the edge with him, his knot stretching you out and pressing just right against your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your vision whites out with a roar of static as your wolf slips out just a little further, and you sink your sharp teeth into soft flesh, breaking skin as you finally claim what is rightfully yours.

Wooyoung spasms underneath you, his arms trembling as he scrambles to hold onto you, every contraction of your walls draining him further.

Mindlessly, you mouth at the bleeding wound, uncaring of the metallic taste on your tongue as you encourage the skin to knit together into a scarred mark that will never fade. Your head is empty; all you know is to lap at Wooyoung’s tender neck, to grind into him with your limited movement, every instinct crying out to chase down your pleasure, demanding for Wooyoung to surrender all he has to you.

The predatorial haze takes over, and you don’t snap out of it until you taste a faint whiff of distress in Wooyoung’s whimpers.

“Ngh, ‘s too much— Ah, ahhhh, Alpha…” he calls weakly for you, his instincts in conflict with itself; the wolf needs to buck into you until his knot softens and he has nothing left to give — but those final remnants of the human still linger, desperate and overwhelmed by his own body’s hunger.

His distress shakes you out of your daze, leaving you to feel oddly unsatisfied and untethered. The mating is not yet finished; Wooyoung’s spirit tugs at yours but it is one-sided, incomplete. You are incomplete.

But you push your discomfort aside, knowing it is only temporary. You have been through this before; Wooyoung hasn’t. He needs you to be strong, to guide him.

You run a clawed hand through his hair and press a soft kiss on his swiftly healing mark. The bleeding has stopped already. “Do you trust me, sweet pup?” you ask, trying to sound gentle despite the roughened edge in your voice.

“Y-yeah,” Wooyoung sniffles, turning his head so he can nuzzle at your palm.

“You can do this, I know you can,” you reassure him, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone. “Been doing so well, my good boy, need you to be strong for me just a little longer.”

He nods shakily. “Oh-okay, hmnh, I trust you…”

Affection bubbles warmly in your chest, watching how Wooyoung tries to blink away his tears. Despite himself, he can’t stop his shallow rutting up into your cunt; his wolf knows he has yet more to give, won’t let him rest until he has spilled all his seed in your womb, safely stuffed inside by his knot.

There is no stopping this, and so you take him through it, as gentle as your canine impulses will allow; leading his confused body to pleasure with your hands and your mouth on his body, wherever you can reach, wherever makes him feel good.

Wooyoung follows easily, and soon his gasps and whimpers are sweet to your ears again; his body no longer confused. You stop holding back, sucking at his throat and clenching around his cock until he cums again, and again, sobbing and writhing in sublime torment as he generously fills you up, your stomach starting to distend from the sheer volume of his cum.

The shift inside him is gradual. His lupine side slowly grows louder, more demanding, until it is powerful enough to endure the onslaught on his senses. Wooyoung’s whimpers turn to low growls, gritted teeth sharpening into fangs, and a jolt of excitement sears through you.

It is time to bare your neck to him.

You tightly wrap yourself around Wooyoung and overturn the two of you, landing on your back so Wooyoung is on top of you, your legs locked around his waist with him still buried deep inside your wet cunt. Wooyoung yipes, disoriented by the sudden change, but groans deeply when you tangle a hand through his hair, yanking him to where you need him.

Wooyoung shudders as he breathes you in, mouthing at your neck and shoulders, tongue lavishing at the seven marks already there like he can taste your mates (his future mates). He never stops his shallow, clumsy rutting, grinding his pelvis hard into your clit, his knot pressed against your walls.

Your breath hollows at the constant friction, panting at how he tongues your skin, honing in on his chosen spot. Your hand tightens in his hair, pressure building in your stuffed belly.

“Do it,” you rasp, voice hoarse from exertion and your own impending transformation. “Almost there, my pup. Do it, claim me.”

Wooyoung needs no further encouragement, budding fangs sinking into your shoulder, right next to Yeosang’s mark. Euphoric pain bursts through you as he bites down, still humping mindlessly in pursuit of more, more.

You mewl as tension coils and sings through you, every sensation intensified in the heat of the joining. Entangled in body and spirit, fierce desire spilling over into one another as the mating ritual is completed with a forceful rush of ecstasy. You clench around Wooyoung as the heat washes over you, clamping down on his thick knot with a ragged moan. Wooyoung snarls into your shoulder when your walls tighten around his cock, shuddering with yet another release as you pull him into freefall with you, a weightless plunge into searing pleasure.

Wooyoung trembles above you, his body shaking violently as he twitches and spills ever deeper inside your cunt. Humming with gratification, you press his hand against the swell of your stomach, to let him feel how he has filled you up. Wooyoung groans, careful not to dig his claws into your belly, still shaking.

His fangs finally detach from your injured flesh — and he immediately collapses on top of you, worn out from the mating and from cumming inside you so many countless times.

You breathe hard, putting your arms around Wooyoung’s collapsed body. For a moment you think he has passed out completely… but then you feel his raspy tongue on your skin, tiredly lapping at the fresh bite on your shoulder to try and encourage the wound to close up and heal into his mark, binding you together. Your body does not really need Wooyoung’s help, your innate regenerative powers more practised than his own, but you still burst with fondness at his care; pushing through his exhaustion to tend to you.

(You truly are so very lucky, to have found this mate.)

Wooyoung can’t possibly have much more left in him; but his wolf is not done with him yet. You can tell clearly from his scent and, more significantly, from the way his knot has not begun to soften yet.

Your lycan instincts roar at you to keep fucking Wooyoung, to drain him completely empty so he can breed you — but you repay his kindness, tending to him first.

Carefully, you gather Wooyoung in your arms, lifting him as you get up on your feet. He whines, his trapped cock twitching tiredly at the change in position. You are a little shaky from your own exhaustion, from holding your instincts down, but Wooyoung feels light as a feather under the power of the full moon.

You carry him to a sheltered spot right at the base of a cherry tree, where blossoms slowly flutter to the ground in a gentle breeze. There you find slight cover from the moonlight, and you know he can transform here with as much comfort as is possible.

Still careful, you lay Wooyoung down to straddle him again. He is whimpering, thick tears glistening on his cheeks, and a sweet satisfaction rumbles in your chest at the sight. You bend down and indulge in the taste of his flushed, salty skin with sweeping strokes of your tongue, the wet muscle slowly elongating as the full moon’s peak draws closer.

You don’t have much time left, so you slowly continue the shallow roll of your hips, mouth trailing down his neck to suck soothingly at his fresh mark. Your hands run up and down his chest, clawed fingers lightly scratching over his dark nipples.

“We’re not done yet, my sweet,” you hum in his ear, nipping at the lobe. “Gonna take all you have to give, make you stuff me full until I’m leaking around your knot, until I’m well and bred. Wouldn’t that be perfect, hm? My little pup giving me pups of his own.”

Your estrous cycle is not in its fertile phase right now, but that makes the thought of carrying Wooyoung’s litter no less sweet. How he would dote on his little ones, spoiling them rotten when he’s not busy trying to fuck more into your womb.

The thought stirs you up as much as it does Wooyoung; he snarls through his cries, bucking his hips in a futile attempt to flip you back over. You growl back at him in challenge, daring him to try. Making him waste all his excess energy as you ride him for a few final spurts of his seed until he cums dry inside you.

Wooyoung still whines and squirms, but it’s getting weaker and weaker, and his cock finally softens. It won’t be long before his knot follows, and you shower his teary face with tender kisses during the wait. You squeeze around him just one more time, unable to resist teasing a last whine out of your new mate.

He is completely worn out, just as you intended, moaning hoarsely when his knot gradually softens, a translucent trickle escaping past it onto Wooyoung’s lap. He makes a noise between relief and regret when you let his cock slip out, grabbing at your hips to keep you close.

Fur is starting to stand on his knuckles, and you huff in amusement when you realise he is pulling your hips forward while wiggling down himself, trying to get your thighs in his face.

“Greedy pup, haven’t I tired you out enough?” you lovingly chide him, pinching his cheek. You had anticipated for increased stamina, but his vigour goes beyond your expectations; you can only imagine what waits for you as he grows and settles into his full powers in the months to come.

Wooyoung grates out a low whine, an inhuman noise while the beast encroaches further onto his mind and body. “H-hungry…”

It can do no harm, you suppose, and you are never one to tell Wooyoung ‘no’ when he wants to sate his appetites on your cunt. So you indulge, allowing him to nuzzle at your soft thighs, smearing his cheeks with sticky arousal.

Tiredly he laps at your juices and the steady trickle of seed leaking from your cunt, his hand pressed on your belly. The bulge is less prominent without his cock and knot stuffing you full, but there is still a faint swell of his cum, amplifying the curve of your stomach.

You growl lightly at the lazy swipes of his tongue, leaving tingles of pleasure in its wake that are just enough to stir arousal but not enough to lead to a final release. Your own hunger snakes its eager tendrils through your veins, and you tangle a hand in Wooyoung’s hair to steer him, his mouth on your weeping hole and nose on your swollen clit.

He groans at your unspoken demand, fingers digging into your thighs as he slurps noisily and lets you use him freely for your needs. His tongue grows thicker as it elongates inside your velvet heat, and your grip on Wooyoung’s hair tightens with a sharp moan at the coarser texture against your walls, plunging as deep as it can reach.

You shudder and snarl, eyes squeezed shut in the chase for another high, closing in on your quarry with ease. Heat spikes in your core and fresh slick gushes onto Wooyoung’s long tongue as your thighs clench around him, like jaws snapping around their prey.

Panting hard, you ride it out against Wooyoung’s eager face, nudging his nose against your clit — but then the full moon reaches her highest point in the night sky, and Wooyoung cannot deny her any longer, even if you tried to keep him in line. But you don’t try, instead heeding the moon’s call same as him.

You shake off the unsteadiness from your orgasm best you can, and lift yourself off Wooyoung’s face to turn him around onto his elbows and knees, from where he claws at the moss and dirt around him, carving deep gashes into the dirt as his muscles and bones stretch and reshape themselves with loud, visceral noises.

Wooyoung is completely exhausted, so fucked out that he has barely any strength to fight the transformation; no human resistance left in him to make the process more painful and drawn out. Still, you hastily shift into your own wolf form, changes rippling through your body with a swift smoothness from countless moons of experience. It comes as natural to you as breathing, the enormous hulking mass of your canine body as familiar as your human shape.

You use your massive bulk to tower over Wooyoung, mounting his convulsing body to keep him restrained. Your maw gently but firmly closes around the nape of Wooyoung’s neck to calm him, partially shifted and covered with dark fur.

He spits out yowls and other animalistic noises as he changes underneath your, scrambling for purchase as hands and feet make place for clumsy paws. Wooyoung’s body swells in size, pushing against your larger form, but you stay firmly mounted until Wooyoung has completely slipped into his wolf and his shakes have subsided, slowly quieting down.

A hush falls over the forest in the wake of Wooyoung’s very first transformation.

Even you find yourself struck with awe as you clamber off of him, recognising the honour of being his witness. His crumpled form still breathes heavily, and you nudge your muzzle at his chest to help him upright, steadying him on his four legs.

Your sharp eyes take in his appearance with wonderment and admiration. Wooyoung is slightly undersized for a wolf, but with strong limbs and a beautiful shining coat, dark with conspicuous streaks of grey across the lines of his canine face. His eyes are a striking gold, long tongue lolling out of his mouth as he looks back at you with what you recognise to be a grin.

He yelps playfully and without further warning, roils back and pounces at you.

The following scuffle is embarrassingly short; he whines when you pin him yet again, but the sound is pleased, like he’s gotten exactly what he wanted. You huff a rumbling laugh of sorts and bend down to drag your tongue over his snout, overwhelmed with affection for your boisterous pup — no, wolf.

You throw your head back, and a deep howl echoes through the forest. Wooyoung joins you in a lupine duet, and it is not long before your other mates respond to the call with their own voices from elsewhere in the woods, knowing they have been summoned.

Mere minutes pass until they find you in the clearing, small groups of twos and three emerging from the cover of the forest.

You watch how they approach Wooyoung and sniff at each other; your mates are meeting Wooyoung for the first time all over again, while Wooyoung perceives them in greater depth, enriched by his wolf’s perspective.

Wooyoung basks in the attention, ears perked up and tail wagging adorably; your pup may have grown into a wolf, but he is not quite a predator yet. Seonghwa takes the last turn to reacquaint himself with Wooyoung, and immediately tries to groom his future mate, nipping at his fur — but Wooyoung has no patience to keep still, his energy renewed and bursting at the seams from his metamorphosis.

He slips away from Seonghwa and decides to test his newfound powers again with another playful pounce — targeting Jongho this time. Jongho, among the very strongest in the pack, predictably snorts and bucks Wooyoung off him with ease, retaliating within the blink of an eye.

Just like that, you and your mates spent the night together with playfights and chases, with long peaceful interludes where you are curled up against each other in a large pile of paws and fangs and fur, napping and grooming one another. You do not nap however, tireless under the moon and from the exhilaration of your new connection to Wooyoung, who whines affectionately as you lick at his face and lock your jaws gently around his muzzle.

As the night draws to a close, you lead Wooyoung away from your other mates, who seem to instinctively understand your needs. They let you have this one last selfish impulse, to keep Wooyoung for yourself again when he changes back.

You lay pressed together in the grass at the edge of the forest, blossoms scattered around you, watching the sun come up in the distance after the moon has shied away.

The transformation back to one’s human side is much easier, especially after a fulfilling night like this. The wolves have been sated, willing to rest until they are called upon again. It’s not long before Wooyoung’s naked human form rests next to you, half draped over your own body as he nuzzles at the fresh mark on the junction between your neck and shoulder.

“Are you alright, my pup?” you hum at him, gently carding your fingers through his dishevelled hair. Your skin tingles at the press of his lips against his bite.

“‘M not a pup anymore,” he mumbles against your shoulder, childishly petulant but, strictly speaking, not wrong either.

You breathe out a laugh at his grousing. “Of course, you big strong wolf,” you tease him, “but you are still my good boy, right?”

Wooyoung raises his head, dark eyes glittering in the budding sunlight with an unexpected solemnity in his expression. “Always,” he says, and rubs his nose against yours. “That’s what this means, right? I never have to leave now?”

You swallow down a sudden lump in your throat, resolving yourself to never stop pouring your care and affection into the deep well of Wooyoung’s heart. To make sure he never feels the need to ask that question ever again.

“You could have stayed no matter what. This pack is your home now, whether you are our mate or not,” you press on him, foreheads touching, “…but no, you never have to leave.”

Wooyoung’s worry fades at your reassurance — and makes way for a crooked grin as he cheekily bites his lip at you. “Would you hunt me down if I tried?”

With a good-natured growl, you flip Wooyoung onto his back and sit on his thighs, hands pushing his shoulders down. “Every single time,” you rasp. “We all would, all eight of us. You’d never stand a chance.”

Wooyoung draws a shaky breath, and you are amused to feel him twitch against your cunt. Seriously?

“All eight of you,” he sighs out, almost wistfully. “Doesn’t feel real yet, that you are my mate now. Tonight… tonight was just… yeah. Wish it never ended.” He tiredly grins up at you. “And I got seven more times waiting for me.”

He giggles, clearly not complaining about the prospect, and cranes his neck to reach up for a light kiss. You meet his lips halfway, deepening the kiss with just a touch of possessiveness at the mention of the other mating rituals.

It’s that inherent contradiction once again; even if your possessive streak is fading now that your mating bite clearly stands out against Wooyoung’s skin, a faint echo still rings through you, urging you to keep him to yourself — but you also revel at the prospect of witnessing how Wooyoung accumulates seven other marks next to yours, tightening his bonds into your family until you are one great whole.

It’s the latter emotion that asserts its dominance right now, your wolf humming contently at the thought of you and your family engulfing Wooyoung with such fierce devotion that he will always know that he belongs.

“Seven times,” you promise him in a hush, pecking his lips again, “and then a lifetime more to come.”

[gaykarstaagforever]

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Cabin Boy (1994)

"Come on over here, honey. You've managed to charm me with your moronic innocence."

I was 12 when this...whatever it is...came out. My parents were real sticklers for the whole 13 part of the PG-13 rating, so I didn't see it at the time. And because this was 1994, the Internet was just a thing the Pentagon used to send racist memes to itself, so I don't remember even hearing about this thing.

...Or about how, at the time, it was a giant bomb, and widely considered one of the "worst movies EVAR" by that era's smug hipsters who had found a way to get paid to compile those lists.

(Yes, we had them back then, too. They even got away with being called "journalists" back then, like the thing they were doing was some kind of public service. It was not, by any stretch of the concept. But they published it in newspapers alongside actual headline news, so we didn't think about it and let that happen.)

Speaking of people letting things happen to them - so, point is, I had no idea what the hell Cabin Boy was before I watched it. If I had, would I have watched it? I don't automatically trust the opinions of anyone who isn't me. But I also don't seek out media that has an overwhelming reputation for being frustrating and stupid, because that often means I too will find it frustrating and stupid. So I don't know if the critical consensus would have warned me off.

What I do know is, the first 40 minutes of this 80 minute movie (with extended credit sequences) plays host to some of the most unbearably unfunny anti-jokes I have ever endured.

Nothing works in the first half of this. They don't follow through whatsoever on their already idiotic premise (a 'Fancy Lad' accidentally ends up on a rough fishing ship). The only tone is "and then THAT happened!" The cast acts like they're from at least three very different movies. David Letterman has a cameo where he is David Letterman for a scene, and it doesn't help anything in any way (star / writer Chris Elliot and his writing partner got Tim Burton to produce this mess with $10 million of someone else's money, specifically because Chris and the other guy were staff writers for Letterman's show).

There is exactly one joke that lands in the first half, and it is when Andy Richter, playing "a big stupid guy" (brilliant) does what he thinks is a hulu dance. Andy Richter silently wiggling is literally as good as it gets. I was ready to give up.

....But then came the weird puppets. While the first half of this experiment is an exhausting array of sitcom situations almost completely devoid of humor or anything else, it at one point suddenly becomes a vulgar children's adventure movie, if directed by Terry Gilliam. The fantastical costumes and props and puppets and matte paintings and sets are all great, with a specific and distinctive painted storybook style, and the filming and staging of them is as good as Hollywood gets. There are ice giants; a heroic shark-man; the Hindu goddess Kali, who lives in a cave and has sex with wrecked sailors, while her giant husband is out selling appliances (I think) to other fantasy creatures. All of this is ridiculous, but in the fun, good way. Some real professionals worked hard on these aspects of the film, and that is perhaps the Tim Burton production shining through?

What a shame it is all in service of this particular movie. Truly, no one has ever put in this much work for so little.

The rest of the movie also improves in the second half. While there are no believable character arcs to speak of, at some point the titular Cabin Boy and the crew of fishermen who hate him settle in to a begrudging respect for each-other, and their interactions after this point are, besides the production design, the best part of the movie. The Cabin Boy, weekly defined at the start as a pampered naive jackass, becomes the standard Chris Elliot ensemble character, an eccentric dope with a heart of gold. Chris Elliot is good at that character, which is why he always plays that character. And I like him as that character. Even when he's given nothing to do but bounce from one nonsensical mess to another. And this group of skilled character actors do the best they can to give depth to this razor-thin material.

The jokes get better, too. The story of where the shark-man came from is solid. As is the Cabin Boy using his swimmer love-interest as a rideable watercraft. These are the kind of charmingly over-the-top things a movie like this should be filled with. Unfortunately, there's just not a lot of them.

In looking up how and why this movie happened, I found this retrospective from The Ringer from 2018, aligned with the 25th anniversary Blu-ray rerelease. The premise of that piece is that Cabin Boy is an underrated, ahead-of-its-time anti-comedy that paved the way for Adult Swim and what people used to do on YouTube 10 years ago, and that you'd get it if you were cool.

I'm going to respectfully disagree with that stupid bullshit, you idiot. I appreciate that Elliot was aiming for the kind of snide, winkingly-ironic, piss-take-of-everything comedy that Gen X just couldn't get enough of in 1994. And that can be done in a way that transcends that specific mode and era of media and delights a general audience: think Weird Al, and the early seasons of The Simpsons. But it is also possible to try for that and just completely fuck it up. And I think that is, for the most part, what happened here.

If you are of a type that finds whatever the first part of this movie is trying to do funny and effective, great. Maybe you saw it as a kid, and as a kid who has no standards and missed all the random stupid sex jokes, it really connected with you. Fine. Comedy, and how we come to it, is subjective. But you were / are clearly part of a niche audience, because this thing made back $4 million of a $10 million budget. Why make a general release movie of this at all, if you're not interested in appealing to anyone who doesn't already think David Letterman's dickholery was the height of comedy? I realize he was popular as a latenight host. But that style doesn't translate into a good comedy movie on its own. You have to balance it out with wit and heart and gleefulness, and make an easy-to-follow narrative out of all that.

I know that, because in 1994 they tried to avoid having to do that for 40 minutes, and it fell so flat that even they stopped and made a better fantasy action movie with the rest of the budget.

Cabin Boy is certainly worth seeing, if you can make it through the first half. There is a fun and inventive kids' adventure movie floating around in here, like a delicious hotdog spinning around in an overflowing toilet. In that, it is certainly a one-of-a-kind piece of art. Because why would anyone ever make something like this, ever again?

Holy hell.

[yandere-daze]

Man, all these self aware/isekai enstars asks got me thinking about how each characters would specifically interact with you. Like I can’t begin to imagine having brain power to hold a conversation—what if it was Leo? Bright in the morning, clock hasn’t indicated anywhere near 9 am, and there’s only solace in the taste of bitter coffee on your tongue. Your eyelids feel heavy, but the babbling doesn’t stop. Leo is too overly excited, but he knows not to be pushy—err, well at least he thinks he is. You just think he’s compensating the physical aspect by clamouring all over you with words. After 10 minutes of it, somehow, you manage to excuse yourself. Maybe sit it out in the bathroom stall to let the tears well up in your eyes. Asking the tense murmur of your heart, what ever went wrong because all you feel is desperation, but for what? To get out of here? Or are you just desperate to force yourself to get used to it? You don’t know, and the fact that you don’t, makes the coffee wear off for the second time and you’re already contemplating another round of one.

By the time you turn a corner, another one is already there ready to feed off of your attention. You don’t bother to register who it is. Would it be Wataru? Someone like him is always ready with a sonnet to recite, expressing his heart to you. Maybe someone like Mayoi, the one boy who’d always kiss the floor you walk upon, then his voice would quiver if you even spared a passing glance. What about Eichi himself? He’d be presentable, tolerable. He’d talk smooth and careful, each words precise like his stature. But both of you, mainly him, know better when he lets his gaze linger a little too long on your face and wander too far. Whoever would it be, would it change a thing? You doubt it, because there’s someone always there.

And scene…lmao sorry if I rambled too much…

Ahh don´t please don´t apologize!! This was super fun to read and you did a really awesome job with it, too! Thank you for sending in this little scenario☺️💕

gn reader

tw yandere, obsession, stalking, non-consensual touching, implied kidnapping

I think it´s really accurate for them too, Leo definitely is the kind of person that would talk your ear off for possibly hours on end if you don´t manage to excuse yourself somehow, and then claps himself on the shoulder for not having jumped into your arms as soon as he saw you for once. See, he´s being really considerate and taking your words to heart so he´s trying his best to not overwhelm you too much! Isn´t he doing a great job?

Wataru is super dramatic about everything he does and he would probably be no different when it comes to you. Watch him literally write an entire script and then act out the entire play by himself right in front of you to show you how much he adores you. I would literally die, methinks💀 And right after you just managed to evade Leo too! When will you ever be able to rest in this school?

It looks like never because oh boy, of course, Mayoi followed you through the vents and is already watching you from the corner as soon as you finally fended off Wataru. At least he´s less obnoxious and loud as the former two as he mostly keeps to himself but he still gives you the creeps. The way he stares at you so reverently and with a bright blush on his face but the second you turn to look at him he squeaks like a mouse and apologizes for being so dirty as if he hadn´t just so blatantly stared at you without a shred of decency. It´s unnerving and you swear you had seen his shadow once when you woke up in the middle of the night. Mayoi might be a timid and harmless one for the most part but that doesn´t mean you necessarily like being with him more than the others.

And then, to make matters worse, you come across Eichi. Eichi, who is always so put together and knows how to word things to get his way. He doesn´t seem very different when he is with you, he speaks very calmly and you´d like to say that it´s a welcome change of pace but you can´t help but think that there´s something off about him nonetheless. The way he always smiles at you no matter what and how his gaze lingers a bit longer than it should, the way he nonchalantly lays a hand on your shoulder to gently guide you to come with him. How the grip on your shoulder tightens ever so slightly and his elegant smile strains whenever the both of you pass someone else in the hallway. The knowledge that Eichi has all the money and influence one would need to make you disappear forever and have no one search for you.

It´s scary and you don´t know how much longer you can put up with this.

[elysianslove]

please use this ask to elaborate on mattsun’s dick <33

AH YES THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING gotta do this before i start fasting lmfao.  this ended up being sadder than i thought, but it just ends up being kinda sweet and sorta hot. also this was way longer than i intended. post in reference.  

warnings; big dick mattsun, throwing up, pain kink (?), painful sex, insecurities, consensual taping  

okay remember when i mentioned the insecurity thing? let’s dive deeper into that; third years and mattsun are at some sleepover thing. it���s a little before graduation, and they don’t when they’ll see each other next, so they’re trying to make most of the time that’s left. the conversation progresses to sex, as it naturally does, and each of them admits some horrifying or embarrassing sex story. 

iwaizumi had sex with a girl who was extremely kinky and asked him to slap her, but— they don’t call him ace for no reason. 

oikawa lost his virginity to this girl and she started her period halfway through, but he was really young and didn’t realize that was something that could just happen? it wasn’t that he was immature about it. it was more that he fainted. 

hanamaki found out he was allergic to flavored condoms when he lost his virginity, and it was not fun. 

but then it was mattsun’s turn, and they’re all waiting for his embarrassing sex story, till he hits them with, “i’ve never had sex though,” and each and every one of their eyes bulge out of their heads. it’s the last thing they’d been expecting from him, from cool, suave, charming mattsun, but he continues to swear by it. and when they demand the reason — surely you’ve gotten the chance to before? — he admits it to them: “apparently my dick is too big.” and it’s comical to say out loud, because he’s only gotten with a handful of girls, barely any for it to be firm hypothesis. he thinks he’ll one day meet someone that doesn’t think it’s too big, it won’t fit, um i can give you a handjob, if that’s okay? 

all that evidently leads to a dick comparison, because how big can it really be? and once mattsun sees his best friends’ eyes widen at his hardened dick, it sinks in. shit, he really is big, isn’t he? 

“holy shit, mattsun,” makki says, and he’s bashful as he stares at his best friend’s dick. “how would that fit inside anyone?” and mattsun’s already growing soft, tucking his dick back in his pants and moving to wash his hands after kicking makki rightfully in the chest. 

college comes around, and he passes by a thousand girls crying about how the boy from last night’s dick was so small, ugh i wish i had an 8 inch, and the things i’d do to have my guts rearranged. he sees a little light in this tunnel of endless blue balling, and meets a girl, takes her back to his dorm with his lips biting at her neck and her hands fumbling with his belt. as soon as he falls onto the bed, as soon as she straddles him, naked, and moves to slip off his trousers, anxiety meets him halfway again, and he holds in a breath as she pulls at the hem of his pants and takes his boxers with her.

the gasp his half hardening cock pulls out of her is confusing. he can’t tell what to make out of it, but she spits on her palm and grips his hefty cock in her small palm, unable to have her fingertips meet. her eyes are wide, but she seems determined, even tilts her hips forward, but she resorts to, “can i just suck you off?” 

and mattsun thinks alright, that’s an upgrade. 

when she ends up throwing up because she underestimates his size and overestimates herself, mattsun offers her his bathroom to clean up, and grabs her a bottle of water as she leaves. 

he ends up losing his virginity to some masochist, and it’s not very memorable or anything he’d ever imagined it be. it sits high on his list of regrets: he cums way too early, and hurts the masochist too much for it to be enjoyable in any way. but he texts the old third year groupchat and types in “i lost my virginity 😎” and receives the praise he had expected. 

for months to come, he fucks his fist every other night to amateur porn and watches as some camgirls’ cunts swallow inches and inches of plastic cock. he hooks up with some girls only to have them sit on his face and kitten lick at the head of his cock. some swallow a little bit of his cock, some fondle at his balls, but none ever let him fuck them. oikawa sends him links for sex toys, and mattsun feels as pathetic as ever, but he buys a fleshlight anyways and finds purchase in how tight it feels around his cock, how wet and slippery it is, how it properly milks him dry. makki meets him during a break and offers to suck his dick for him, but mattsun flips him off and kicks at his stomach again. 

it’s during his third year that he meets you. 

you’re sweet and charming, , and you have pretty hair, and he likes your style, and you laugh at his stupid jokes. you call him handsome, and you call him pretty, and you compliment his hair when it’s at its curliest. you send him the weirdest memes and tell him it reminds you of him, and you pick him up at obscure times because you’re craving nuggets or ice cream or ramen or licorice. he asks you to be his girlfriend and when you say yes, he blushes so forcefully that he has to scrunch up his face to try and hide it. he lets you meet his friends through a screen, and he buys you matching rings because he enjoys the subtlety of it all, and he orders donuts to be sent to your place  during your exam week. 

being with you is a dream, so much that when he hovers above you, kissing at your lips like he always does and sucking at your neck the way you love, and you murmur that you want him, want all of him, his hands fumble and shake. he tries to hide it, but his breath is shakier and his chest is flushed, his eyes a little hazy. you’re so gentle with him, and he hadn’t known he needed it until you’re straddling him and slowly smoothing your hands down his chest, palming him through his too tight briefs, squeezing softly. 

when your hands reach for his briefs, his own snap to your wrist, and he dares to beg, “please stay,” and you kiss him in response. your breath hitches at the sight of him, and your hand shakes when you spit on it and grip at his cock, but despite your initial hesitance you don’t falter. 

you stroke tentatively at his cock, squeezing him tightly, and fall closer to him, hovering your lips by his as you ask of him, “stretch me— stretch me for you.” 

there’s only one word to describe everything mattsun had been feeling in that moment, and it’s overwhelmed, but it’s somehow in the most positive way. he sits up straight, keeping you on his lap. his fingers find your dripping cunt and he pushes one, two, three, four fingers inside of you. he makes you cum twice, fingers curled and rapidly thrusting into you, other hand occupied with your sloppy clit and mouth latched onto your nipple. you praise him and thank him and cry for him and writhe in his hold as he pleasures you, and when you’re breathless and limp in his arms, he waits for the ball to drop, for you to give into your anxiety and hesitance. 

except you don’t. 

you lift yourself up on trembling knees, hands settled on and gripping his shoulders, and with teary eyes, you say, no, you beg, “make it fit.” 

he has stars in his eyes as he grips his cock tightly with one hand, the other holding you to him by your waist. it’s slow, it’s painfully slow, but mattsun has never treasured time as much as in that moment. he takes in everything, from the way your body tenses at the first intrusion when his tip presses against your hole, to the small gasps and moans as you take more and more of him in, at the sweat that beads at your temple and that rolls between your breasts. he marvels at the heave of your chest and the roll of your tummy as you curve in yourself, and he revels in the press of your lips to his, in the pull your arms looping around his neck and pressing his chest flush to yours. 

he does cum too early, but you don’t chastise him. you only continue to ride his soft cock, his cum messily dribbling out, and he ignores the sting from his sensitivity in favor of rubbing at your clit, sending you over the edge eventually. 

he texts the old third years groupchat that night again, with you sleeping soundly by his side, comfortable beneath his blankets, “why didn’t you guys tell me sex was this good? fake friends,” and sends a picture of him shirtless, sweaty, and with a post-sex flush to his cheeks and messy curls, with the middle finger. 

maybe you shouldn’t have let him have a taste of you, because he fucks you in bed the next morning, sleep still settled deep in your bones, and then he fucks you in the shower, and then he eats you out splayed out on his dinner table. he videotapes you sucking him off, with your permission, and watches it when you’re too far out of reach. he sends you pictures after a shower, gripping his cock through the briefs he’d quickly slipped in, hair wet and curly and matted to his forehead, skin damp and glistening. and when you react so positively, he blushes, to his dismay. you meet his friends and they joke about how you’re still alive, but you brush them off and tell them you’ve never felt more satisfied. 

with every single time he watches his cock sink into your warm, tight, sloppy cunt, and every time he watches you swallow around him, and every time he makes you cry and leaves you braindead, leaves you mindless and begging for more, his confidence grows. so much until he learns to be cocky about it, so much that when he barely preps you and pushes into you, he shivers at the way you whine and tense up, at the way you flinch and lightly thrash. because you’re a good girl, aren’t you? always take my cock so well, don’t you? nobody but you, nobody like you. 

and it’s true; it’s nobody but you for him. in every single way.

hello what the fuck am i doing. i did not think this was gonna escalate like this hfskjfns but anyways, big dick mattsun for the win <3 

[wildwren]

Is Theo stamped for evil?? 

So, I got a reply on one of my Theo posts, and I figured I'd write a new post to compose my thoughts on this, as I've been meaning to write some Theo meta and put it in the tag! I don't mean this as a targeted reply, but just a general response to the very predominant fandom theory that says Theo is destined to be a Nazgul, or even the Witch King Himself. While I'm not inherently opposed to this theory -- I love tragic arcs and it certainly could work for me if executed well -- I'm simply not in agreement with the overwhelming fandom consensus that Theo is Definitely Stamped For Evil. I just don't see it!! 

So, let's discuss!

Here’s a list of pretty much everything Theo does sequentially in Season 1: 

Complains about having to help his mom when he didn’t get any sleep 

Expresses some grumpiness about his mom having a boyfriend 

Steals something from a very mean, objectively evil old man 

Has a bitchy dynamic with his best friend, also an (older?) teenaged boy 

Gets triggered by the annoying “mice” and smashes the floorboards with a poker (I’m sorry but this is the most relatable thing he’s ever done) 

Puts himself in harm's way to help his mom fight off an orc, including jumping off of a loft to try to strangle the orc in a noose 

Goes with his mom to the tower and helps her support the refugees there 

Offers to go into town to get more food so that his people don’t starve 

Goes back for more food at risk to himself 

Tries to lie to aforementioned objectively evil old man about stolen sword, fails because he’s a terrible liar

Resists recruitment by evil old man, stays with his mom even when others are choosing “evil”

Tells Arondir (a person he doesn’t fully trust and who he has very conflicted feelings for) about the sword (something he has a visceral attachment to). He literally gives Arondir the hilt. He literally did that. 

Spies on Arondir when he’s hiding the hilt 

Helps defend and protect the helpless amongst his people during the orc battle, takes his job very seriously 

Helps save his mother’s life during emergency surgery

Surrenders the hilt to Adar in the hopes that it will save his mother’s life (the person he almost just watched die) and the rest of the people in that room

Looks up to and idolizes Galadriel, a powerful figure of “light” (who is of course also conflicted)

Admits his own guilt and weakness to Arondir 

Feels deep grief for the loss of his homeland, wants to kill orcs in revenge

Feels deep guilt and personal responsibility for the loss of his homeland, admits his guilt to Galadriel

Accept’s Galadriel’s sword, cherishes Galadriel’s sword

Worries and grieves deeply for his mother, Arondir, his friends, his people 

Refuses to bow to or chant for Halbrand when he is named King (you know, the guy who’s literally Sauron). 

In his last shot of Season 1, we see Theo holding Galadriel’s sword high and chanting “Strength to the Southlands!” 

I apologize for this ridiculous and pedantic list, but I think it's helpful to see all of his actions. What this list demonstrates for me most of all is that Theo is complex! He makes some bad choices throughout the season and occasionally behaves petulantly, but he also does many brave and selfless things and demonstrates some real strength of character. I simply do not see this characterization as definitively signaling a future villain, especially when our primary protagonist and Confirmed Force for Good Galadriel also displays similar flaws, complexities, and failures of judgement. That's just good character writing, it's not necessarily villain-signaling. 

I also think it's impossible to assess Theo's behavior without examining the effect the sword hilt might have had on it. We know from Theo's own words that the hilt made him feel powerful and important, and if the hilt has any of the qualities of one of Sauron's future experiments, then it's safe to say it could have a will of its own! It might, for instance, have a desire to be found! We know it was hiding in Waldreg's barn for who knows how many years, which seems like a good place for it to be, given that Waldreg was 100% willing to give it over to Sauron or even just someone who kind of reminded him of Sauron at literally the first opportunity. So it's pretty clear that even if Theo wasn't involved, the hilt would have found its way to Mount Doom.

Once Theo does have it, however, it's possible the hilt was prodding him into certain actions and behaviors -- for instance, going down into the village where the orcs were hunting for it and staying behind to look for more food, even though it was somewhat reckless of him. After he surrenders the hilt to Arondir, the influence still lingers -- he spies on Arondir when he's hiding the hilt, allowing him to later reveal it to Adar. I think there's a case to be made that Bronwyn is also affected by the hilt. As soon as she comes in contact with it, she makes a complete 180 on her original stance and decides the only way to survive is to surrender the hilt to the enemy. Of course, Arondir talks her off this ledge (and also takes the sword hilt back from her -- yes I have analyzed this blocking), after which they come up with a better option. All in all though, some very sketchy behavior from the hilt. 

What is particularly notable about all of this is that Theo, despite the ring-like influence this sword might be having on him, does willingly, of his own volition, from the depths of his own conscience, surrender the hilt to Arondir! He makes the decision to do that and has the strength of will to follow through on it, even though Arondir is not (!!) his favorite person at that point! Like! What's not clicking! That's some heroic-ass behavior!! 

There's certainly a case to be made that Theo is tempestuous and moody (as are all teenagers), but I also disagree with the assessment that his mother is the only thing holding him to the side of good, and that the show will kill her off to trigger his descent into evil. Sure, the season spent some time on the relationship between Bronwyn and Theo, but I would argue it spent *more* time on the relationship between Theo and other powerful characters, specifically Arondir and Galadriel, both of whom have had a very positive influence on him and could be anchors for him even if his mother was not around. It also demonstrated the care he has for his people, that the Southlands as an idea or an identity remains important to him and something he is willing to fight for.

To be clear, I am not saying he won't become a Nazgul - literally anything is possible! I'm also not trying to defend him because he's one of my faves and I don't want him to be evil (I enjoy villains so this is a non-issue for me!!). I simply do not think the character choices are clearly pointing to this arc for him. The showrunners have said that he could go in many different directions, and if he is going to be a future canon character, my money is currently on the King of the Dead. This would still be a tragic arc, of course, but in my opinion, it aligns more clearly with what we've seen of Theo. I could imagine him finally creating a home and a kingdom for his people (with the help of Bronwyn and Arondir of course), only to be unwilling to surrender this safety when the time came, at the expense of his honor. (See italicized bit above about Theo refusing to bow to Halbrand -- interesting character detail for sure!) The people who became the Army of the Dead were also guilty of worshipping Sauron, but given that this is already part of the Southlander's arc in the Ring of Power, it feels like a good fit in hitting the broad strokes of that canon story.

I also simply think this would be a more humanistic and empathetic story, which -- at the risk of sounding overly optimistic or polyanna-ish -- does seem to me to be the lens through which the writers are approaching these characters. In general, the character writing in the show feels much more interested in slow development, rather than shocking twists that force dramatic character arcs. They would have to start making some very different choices for me to be convinced that a horrific death for Bronwyn as a means of motivating Theo's villainry was territory they were interested in treading.

Finally, I just want to address the Nazgul guessing game in general, because I'm not sure I'm on the same page as the rest of the fandom with some of these assumptions. While it's certainly fun to imagine who might be a Nazgul, I think it's pretty silly to assume we will intimately know every single one of the Nazgul as POV characters, or that all such characters have already been introduced. That would be some exceptionally redundant storytelling! Even just showing one or two characters take that journey would be enough to effectively suggest the rest. The idea that half the Numenoreans and most of the prominent Southlanders are already destined to be Nazgul just seems very unlikely to me. 

Okay, I'm gonna shut up now. I hope you enjoyed this post and I'd love to hear your Theo thoughts!! But please do note, boring-ass Theo slander will be unpolitefully ignored :) :) :)

[notanotherreidgirl]

Baby Fever

Summary: Reader convinces Spencer to have another baby

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 984

Warnings: 18+, sexual content, penetrative sex, fingering, breeding kink, unprotected sex, pregnancy

After having your daughter, you were the one who had decided your family was complete. You and Spencer had two kids now - one boy and one girl. What more could you ask for? Spencer, of course, had agreed. In all honesty, he was stunned that you agreed to have even one child with him let alone two. So it was perfect. Your family was perfect. Until you dropped your daughter off to her first day at pre-k and you were utterly alone. 

You passed the time reading but then the house was too quiet so you cleaned while listening to loud music. But you weren’t used to such a clean house so you made a mess of the kitchen when cooking. But then you were eating lunch on your own. But that was fine too. Kids grow up and they go to school and that’s perfectly fine. 

So why couldn’t you stop staring at that baby sleeping in its stroller on the train? And why did you pull out the photo album of baby pictures? The last straw was hearing from Penelope that Matt and Kristy were expecting. Again. 

That night Spencer was home from a long case and he insisted on putting the kids to bed. You could hear him making silly reading voices while you rummaged through your drawers in search of a particular lace set that you hadn’t worn since your son was born. You sat on the bed criss-cross applesauce while he brushed his teeth. 

“So I was doing some reading this morning,” you called out. “Did you know that studies have found that kids with siblings have improved cognitive development?”

“Well, it’s a good thing we had two then” he responded nonchalantly, still preoccupied in the bathroom.

“And you know there was one study in particular that found that people from big families have improved social and behavioral outcomes?” you reclined back onto the pillows and draped one leg across the other so he’d get a good view of you.

“What are you saying, Y/N?” he said as he finally stepped into the bedroom, dropping the towel he was using to dry his hair when he saw you sprawled out on the bed. You could see the moment everything clicked into place. 

“What do you think, Spence?” you spread your legs apart, “Let me make you a daddy again”.

You hadn’t called him daddy in bed since your kids started talking, feeling strange now that the name had such a literal meaning. However, it had an instant effect on him. His eyes darkened and he quickly closed the distance between you. 

“Is that what you want? You want me to fill you up? Put a baby in you?” he asked, voice low. “My greedy little girl, didn’t I already give you two babies? And now you want another?”

You nodded dumbly as he trailed his hands up your legs. He pushed aside your panties and dragged one finger up through your folds. You were drenched which drew a smug smile from Spencer. He continued to tease you, sliding a finger through your folds, grazing your clit and entrance while peppering your breasts with chaste kisses. 

Suddenly you felt such an overwhelming rush of affection for this man, your husband, the father of your children. Yes, you love him but it’s more than that. Being close to him felt so natural. Isn't that what was behind this bout of baby fever? There was just something about carrying his child, creating a real human person with him, and through that making a promise to spend your lives together, supporting each other and your family. 

You cupped his face in your hands, bringing him in for a deep kiss. His free hand moved to the small of your back, pushing you up against his chest as his finger finally slid inside and his thumb rubbed circles on your clit. He took his time pumping in and out but the feeling of him pressed against you and the swirl of emotions brought you to your release quickly. 

Although Spencer had some idea that you wanted another child beforehand (he was a profiler after all, and you were never known for being subtle), he wasn’t prepared for how eager you would be. More surprisingly, all he could think about was how perfect you looked when pregnant. He recalled you tucked into the sofa during the last trimester of your latest pregnancy, smiling to yourself as you flipped through one of his books. You really did glow.

You helped him out of his clothes in a haze, desperate for more despite your recent orgasm. He lined himself up with your entrance and met your eyes. Are you sure about this?

“Please, please Spence” you whined. “Give me your baby”

He let out a low groan as he pushed into you. “Shit Y/N, you’re so tight. You were made for me, made for giving me babies”. He snapped his hips to meet yours over and over, focused on giving you exactly what you wanted. You clenched around him as you felt that familiar knot grow in your belly and he clamped one hand over your mouth. 

“Wouldn’t want to wake the kids with you begging for my come” he said. And that was your breaking point, your orgasm wracked through your body drawing a muffled shout from beneath Spencer’s hand. It seemed to go on forever, the aftershocks only intensifying when you felt the warmth of Spencer’s release. You hooked your legs around his waist to pull him in even closer, ensuring that you didn’t waste even one drop. 

“I think I’m going to need to see some of those studies you were referencing. How many kids did they recommend for the best outcomes?” he asked teasingly

“You know what? I’m not sure but I think the general consensus was the more the merrier”.

[rebeccccccaaa]

TEᑎᔕIOᑎ

_____________________________

ᗩGEᗪ ᑌᑭ!ᑭETEᖇ ᑭᗩᖇKEᖇ ᙭ ᖇEᗩᗪEᖇ

ᔕᑌᗰᗰᗩᖇY: You and Peter have always been very flirty and touchy with each other. You chalked it up to just how he is, not that you minded. But what happens when Peter gets hit with Hydra’s infamous sex pollen and all he seems to be doing is moaning your name. 

ᗯᗩᖇᑎIᑎGᔕ: smut of course lol 18+ (virgin kink?, first time!reader, experienced!Peter, etc, unprotected sex cuz i forgot to write that lol be safe though, and a digusting amount of fluff) 

ᗩ/ᑎ: (non/dub con as per usual with sex pollen fics) although i tried to make as consensual as possible 

ᗯOᖇᗪ ᑕOᑌᑎT: 4.0k (i’m so sorry this is so long lmao)

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“We’re back!” Tony shouted, his voice echoing in the building. They had gone on a mission to infiltrate yet another Hydra base.

Peter was currently sitting and watching television and you were watching from the kitchen making two drinks for you and Peter. You both looked to the team walking in before scurrying beside Bruce and Tony who walked straight into the lab. 

“What did you get this time?” you asked excitedly. Sometimes the team brings back really cool things back from missions and in particular the Hydra missions have the coolest things. Unusually, Thor too walked in the lab before you all circled around the table and Tony placed a plant. 

He backs away as did Bruce and Thor so after looking at Peter with wide eyes you both also stepped back. 

“What is it?” Peter whispered.

“A plant,” Thor said.

“Not shit, Goldilocks. What does it do? You told us to take home, now what?” Tony said.

“Well, Man of Iron, it’s a sex pollen plant.”

“A what?” you gasped.

“Most planets use this as a sort of breeding plant; some species don’t really have the… stamina that Midgardians and Asgardians have.”

As Thor explained this, Tony and Bruce huddle away from the plant moving towards the computer to write down notes and data about what Thor was telling them. You followed pursuit also being intrigued by it. 

Unfortunately Peter did not follow and instead moved closer to the plant to take a closer look. The flower was beautiful. The petals were a soft shade of periwinkle and the pollen was yellow almost like gold. The same shade of golden yellow dust swirled around the flower itself. It was hypnotizing. He really wanted to smell it.

Suddenly as Peter got closer just to give it a quick sniff, he could smell an almost overbearing amount of your scent. That delicious scent of vanilla and lavender that you smelled so nicely of. That scent that made Peter want to run his hands through your hair and his nose along your neck. 

“One thing you should never do is inhale its pollen, if one does it could heighten their desires into madness.”

Peter looked up with wide eyes knowing he just did something he probably shouldn't have done. 

“What desires exactly?” Bruce asked.

“Well, sex.”

Peter started coughing.

“Pete are you ok?” you asked walking up to him.

He looked you in your eyes and his own dilated insanely. You backed away slightly concerned for your friend only for him to take a step closer to you. The lab coated with silence analyzing his behavior since it was so unlike him. Tony got up from sitting on a stool and Thor puffed his chest anticipating his next move; he was certain the boy breathed in the plant’s pollen. 

“It smelled just like you,” he whispered close to your face; his hands reaching under your shirt slightly.

The minute he put his hands on you, all three men ran you and Peter. Bruce pulled you behind him while Tony and Thor grabbed Peter dragging him away from you. You felt hot after what Peter had just done; in front of people too. He thrashed in Thor’s and Tony’s grasp, groaning and shouting from them to let him go. 

You felt tears brimming your eyes. You did not like Peter like this. He was crying and begging to be with you, which you’ll admit surprised you. 

“What’s happening to him?” you asked from behind Banner.

“The boy seems to have inhaled the pollen as I said not to do.”

“Yeah I get that! Why is he crying? Is he hurt?” you asked.

“Not exactly, the pollen will affect his mind and simulate pain as if he were to die, but his body will be perfectly fine.”

“What?” you all said at the same time.

“How do we fix it?” Tony asked.

“Y/n, baby. Please,” Peter practically moaned making everyone kind of uncomfortable.

“Well, the only way I’m aware of is, well, sex. And it seems like Peter desires the young lady,” you eyes widened and you shifted under everyone’s stares. 

“No, no way,” Tony said; you were like a daughter to Tony and therefore boys were something he wasn’t too keen on the idea of you having. He still thinks you’re too young even though you’re already a consenting adult. 

“Tony, the boy-”

“No, I’m not letting Y/n do that. We’ll find a different cure. Take him to his room and don’t let him out.”

“Tony, are you sure about this?” Bruce asked Tony.

“Yes I’m sure, Banner. There’s no way in hell I’m putting her in that situation. It’s not fair. Now come on, more time talking, less time finding a cure.”

“Technically there’s already a cure,” Thor muttered. 

“Go!” Tony pushed him out. 

“Is he gonna be ok?” you softly asked, hearing his cries and screams for you as Thor took him to is room.

“He’s gonna be alright, bug,” Tony said, hugging you. 

Steve and Nat both walked in the lab after changing out  of their clothes concerned with all the screaming they had been hearing.

“What happened?” Nat asked.

“Thor had us bring this plant home for analysis and turns out this shit makes anyone who smells the pollen horny as hell.”

“Really? Come on Tony, we heard the kid crying and screaming. What’s really going on?” Steve didn’t believe him at first.

“He wants to… have sex,” Bruce said shyly.

“Wait really?” Nat asked.

“With who?” Steve hesitantly asked curiously.

Tony and Bruce simply look at you, which you curled into yourself feeling embarrassed. 

“Oh no, honey are you ok? Did he do anything?” Nat asked, holding your hand.

“I’m fine, I’m just worried about him.”

“Don’t. We’ll fix this I promise,” Tony said getting to work.

Well now it’s been 8 hours and Peter is still crying and moaning your name. You had been in Nat's room with her, Steve, and Bucky. Sam and Thor had been outside ‘patrolling’ Peter’s room making sure he was as ok as he can be, though it’s been proven that he seems to be in excruciating pain. 

Tony and Bruce had been in the lab the entire day, you’d think they made wonderful progress and found a cure by now but no. All they’ve found was normal samples of Peter’s… everything. He was physically perfectly fine. 

You were very quiet as they played video games and watched movies. You couldn’t help but feel burdened because you knew you could fix all of this. All you needed to do was go to Peter’s room and let him have his way with you. It’s not like you wouldn’t mind. You and Peter have always had this sort of tension and extra friendly behavior between you guys ever since you met. 

To say you hadn’t developed feelings for him would be a huge lie. 

“Are you ok?” Nat asked you.

“No, not really.”

“I know you want to help him but it’s for the better. Let Tony and Bruce find a cure.”

“Actually that won’t be happening anytime soon,” Thor said, walking with Sam. 

“What happened?” Steve asked.

“They haven’t found anything and although Peter will be physically fine, mentally he could be extremely traumatized by the time they find something, if anything. The pollen mimics physical pain until sexual ‘needs’ are fulfilled by the person they desire most,” Thor looked to you at the end. 

“I want to help him,” you said.

“Y/n, that’s not fair to you,” Steve said.

“And it’s not fair to Peter if I don’t help! He didn’t mean to smell the flower. I can't just sit here waiting for nothing to happen when I can go in there and help him!” you argued, “If I don’t, he’ll not only hate you for keeping me away from him but me too for not trying.”

“Don’t be silly, he’d never hate you,” Nat said.

“He will if I’m the reason he’s going to be traumatized for the rest of his life.”

“Come with me,” Nat said, holding your hand.

“Nat,” Steve warned.

“Steve, you and I both know this has to happen. They’re adults,” Nat shot back. 

You followed Nat out of the room. 

“Are you absolutely sure about this? Your first time should be special-”

“First time?” your eyes widen.

“Y/n, I know you're a virgin.”

“I’m not a virgin,” you mumbled.

“Really? When was your first?” she poked.

“It was- was in, it was high school,” you stuttered.

“With who?”

“... Tommy?” you said after a long moment of silence, trying to come up with a name.

“Tommy?” Nat smirked.

“Yeah, he was in my history class,” you lied.

“Ok we’ll work on that,” she said.

“On what?”

“Lying.”

“Hey, virginity is merely a social construct made by men who think their tiny dicks have the ability to change a woman’s life. It’s gonna be like a five second pump; I’ll be in and out,” Nat laughed at that.

“Ok, fine. Follow me.”

You followed her to Peter’s room where his moans and groans got louder with each step you got closer. Truthfully you were a bit nervous about the situation. Sure you did imagine your first to be extra special in a dim lit room with flowers and with someone you love. Well, now it looks like it’s going to be a dark room with your best friend who’s in the room driven by magic sex pollen, but at least you love him. 

You got to the door and Peter instantly knew you were on the other side. His senses overwhelmed him with your scent, your racing heart beat. You exchanged a few words with Nat before she hugged you and left you to go into his room alone. 

You slipped inside and immediately met with Peter crawling on the floor to you in nothing but a pair of boxers; a large prominent tent formed where his dick was. 

“Y/n, you’re here,” he rubbed your legs and kissed your thighs softly still on the floor at your feet. 

“Yeah, I am. I’m here to help you,” you said shakily.

“Oh god, you smell so good,” his hand reached up behind your thighs towards your ass and you panicked. 

“Peter wait,” you pulled his hand away. 

“What, baby? What’s wrong?” he too panicked.

“Nothing, I just… I’m kinda scared.”

“Of what? Of me?” he stood up and backed away from you.

“No! Not of you. I’ve never… done this, you know?”

“Y/n, why are doing this then- ugh!” he groaned, a wave of need and sexual frustration rushed over him making his body cramp. 

“I want to help you,” you grabbed his hand; he pulled his hand back very quickly and retracted his body over to the bed. 

“Peter, please let me help you,” you walked over to him.

“No, Y/n. I can’t do that to you.”

You were getting tired of his arguing. You wanted to do this. You rushed to him and took your shirt off hoping that’ll prove a point or something. 

“Look, look. I want to help you, Pete. Let me do that,” you cupped his face making him look at you. 

His eyes were so dilated nearly black as he looked into your eyes. His hands caressed your bare stomach and lower back making goosebumps rise across your body. He leaned forward running his nose along your neck breathing you in. He used every ounce of control he had in his body to not flip you on the bed rail you into the mattress. He had to be gentle. The idea of you never have been touched shouldn't have turned him on as much as it does. 

Your stomach fluttered and you let out a shaky breath. Arousal pooled in your underwear with each move that Peter made. Your hands rested on his shoulders unsure of what to do but thankfully Peter moved your hands in his hair and you gently ran your fingers through his curly brown locks as he kissed and nibbled at your neck. 

He moved your bra strap down your shoulder tracing his lips along your collarbone to your shoulder.

“I'm so sorry, baby,” he whispered against your skin.

“It’s ok Pete, I want to help you. Teach me. Teach me how to make you feel good.” 

He practically growled picking you up and laying you on his bed. He kissed your stomach and left small bites and purple marks littered across your belly. He looked at you to make sure you were ok before pulling your shorts down your legs and off to the side. He continued to kiss up and down your legs growing harder at the small pants and gasps you made above him. 

“I'm gonna give you a little taste, ok darling?” he whispered against your inner thighs.

You nodded and lifted your hips off the bed for Peter to easily take your underwear off. You grew embarrassed at how wet you were. Peter only chuckled before going in a licking along your entrance. You gasped and clenched your thighs together, only to wrap around Peter’s head pulling him closer to you.

This isn’t Peter’s first time eating a girl out so he was obviously quite skilled in bringing you a lot of pleasure from his tongue alone. Now in his twenties, after high school and after his identity was revealed, Peter somewhat tumbled his way into playboy town just like his mentor. 

Girls left and right shot their chance to spend a night in the spider boy’s bed. But when Peter met you, oh boy, the kid fell in love. You were this innocent little thing that Peter just wanted to hold and take care of all the time. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. He stopped seeing other women in hopes that one day you’d be out of your mind enough to give him a shot. 

Now here you were, laying in his bed like an angel, letting him have his way with you because he was shithead and smelled the flower when he wasn’t supposed to. 

Your hips squirmed around, pressure building up in the pit of your stomach. You moaned loudly as you got closer to your oragsm. Your hands went to Peter’s hair making him hum when you tugged on his hair. His vibrations pushed over the edge and you came for the first time that night on Peter’s face.

“God that was hot, baby. Are you ok?” he asked, crawling up your body after discarding his boxers.

“Yeah, that was amazing,” you cupped his face, smiling.

He leaned down and kissed you for the first time ever. His hands roamed your almost naked body except for your bra of which you still had on. Not for long of course. Peter leaned back to sit up pulling you with him so you were now sitting straddling his lap. 

You could feel his dick against you and your body shuddered in arousal. His hands wrapped around you to skillfully remove your bra, the last piece of clothing left on you. When he did so you covered yourself in instinct never having been naked in front of anyone before in your life. 

“Don’t cover up princess. You’re so beautiful. I wanna see you,” he whispered, cupping his hand under your chin so you could look at him.

“Sorry, it’s- It’s a lot,” you whispered back. 

“I know and I’ll try to go slow but if I’m not inside you right now I think I’m gonna pass out,” he moaned. 

You looked down in between your bodies to find Peter’s dick big, swollen, and red. You felt bad because you don’t know if it’ll fit inside you and it looks painful. 

“Please, Yn,” Peter had tears in eyes begging for you to take the pain away.

“Ok, I’m ready.”

Peter grabbed his cock and lined up to your entrance. You got up and slowly sank down feeling him stretching you out. With how aroused and wet you were after Peter’s mouth you were able to slide all the way down without feeling too much pain.

Peter moaned when he bottomed out and grabbed your face you kiss passionately. You moved slowly up and down and soon all the pain you felt subsided into pleasure and you too started moaning above him. 

“You look so fucking good riding me, princess.”

His words made you moan even more embarrassed that everyone can probably hear you and Peter having sex. You bit your lip in hopes to silence the moans as much as possible, but Peter didn’t like that.

“Don’t. I want everyone in this building to know who fucking you this good,” he flipped you over onto you back and started thrusting wildly. 

“Let them know what a good little girl you are for daddy. Let them know who’s name you’re gonna be screaming all night.”

“Peter oh god,” you moaned.

“Huh? You like it when I call you a good girl?”

“Yes!”

“My good girl. My little slut,” Peter groaned in your ear.

You were getting insanely close to your climax and Peter’s words only sped up the approach. 

“Daddy, I think I’m close,” you whispered, pleasure becoming overwhelming.

“Let go baby. Cum all over my cock,” he said.

Your oragsm ripped through you and you practically screamed into his ear. Pleasure came over you in a huge wave. Your eyes screwed shut and your legs wrapped around Peter’s torso pulling him impossibly close. Your body felt limp under Peter’s and when you opened your eyes Peter's face held worrisome and frustration. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I haven’t came,” his voice trembled.

“It’s ok. We can keep going,” you said tiredly.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he buried his face in your neck.

“You won’t hurt me, Peter. I promise.”

He kissed softly before gently flipping you over and thrusted into furiously.

Six hours later Peter finally came after you did so nine times; and that was before you stopped counting. Your body shook and Peter cleaned you up. He had a small fridge where he kept drinks from time to time and grabbed a water bottle for you to drink. 

You breathed heavily after drinking a copious amount of water before laying back down. You turned to check the clock on his bedside and saw that it was around three thirty in the morning. Peter crawled into bed with you, both still naked not caring enough to change. He held you impossibly close, burying his face in your shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry. Are you ok?” he mumbled in your skin. 

“I mean it was a lot,” you chuckled.

“I swear if it weren’t for that stupid fucking pollen our first time would have been softer and special,” he said, making you look at him with surprise. 

“What do you mean?”

“Uh, well, look. Y/n, I really like you and I know that timing is horrible but it’s true. I promise.”

“Well, I like you too,” you smiled at him.

“Really?”

“Yeah!”

“Wow. God, you’re amazing. Thank you for today,” he whispered, cuddling you close.

“Of course. I’d do anything for you.” 

You both fell  asleep soundly in each other's arms until you both woke up the next day from loud yet muffled voices downstairs. The sun was shining very bright, lighting the whole room up brightly. You stirred around and peeked over Peter’s sleeping body to find that it was around noon already and you two were still in bed. 

Peter moved a bit slowly waking up. You turned around to face and watched his beautiful face slowly come to life. His eyes met your eyes and you both smiled before bursting into giggles; hiding your face in his chest. 

“We’ll have to get up soon, you know,” he said, making you sigh dramatically.

“Let’s run away, before they make fun of us. They had to have heard, right?” you said, slightly panicked.

Peter just laughed and shook his head. He reached to kiss you, moving your hair off your neck eyes widening. 

“Oh man,” he said, thumb rubbing the dark spots he left on you.

“What?” You pushed the sheets off your body feeling intensely sore. You heard Peter gasped as you trotted to a mirror.

Your body was covered in bruises and hickeys that Peter left for literally everyone to see. When you looked in the mirror you yelled Peter’s name completely shocked at the state of your body. 

“I can’t believe you!”

“Well, in my opinion I think you looking fucking sexy,” he said coming up behind you.

“I like them,” you said shyly, “But everyone’s gonna see them, no?”

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen next time.”

“Next time?”

“Hell yeah. Only if you want of course,” he chuckled, “Let’s take a shower before we grab some food.”

That was filled with giggles and little touches. Kisses were exchanged practically every minute. You both came out of the shower and Peter so generously lent you a pair of clean boxers and one of his shirts fitting way too big on you. He wore these delicious looking grey sweatpants and a tight fitted black shirt. You practically drooled over him.

“No, later,” he winked.

He grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers before heading down stairs preparing for what could be an upcoming disaster. You came down stairs meeting everyone appearing to be arguing probably over what you did. Everyone noticed you two and immediately stopped conversing. 

Tony sat on a stool, arms crossed and an unamused look staring at you both while everyone else looked down or at each other, anywhere at but you guys.

“Before you say anything, everything that happened is my fault,” Peter pulled you behind him. 

Tony simply looked at you and made you feel shy and ashamed somewhat under his gaze. He told you to stay away and you didn’t listen.

“Don’t even look at her. She has nothing to do with this,” he said when Tony shifted his gaze.

“Relax, kid. Look we all talked. Thor told me about the effects the pollen can have mentally and the trauma it can impact when ‘untreated’ for too long. We weren’t going to find a cure anytime soon and I don’t even want to think about the consequences you’d have to pay because I'm a stubborn old man who didn’t like seeing the kids not be kids anymore. You both are adults and I had no right to interfere with that. Besides everyone knows you two are in love.”

“We’re not in love,” Peter mumbled.

“Love is such a strong word,” you mumbled simultaneously. 

“Don’t argue with me,” Tony said. 

“Sorry,” you both whispered.

“I’m sorry,” he admitted.

“We also agreed that starting today we will be installing soundproofing in both of your rooms and Y/n, maybe put some ice on…” he pointed to your neck but then waved around your whole body because you were pretty beaten up. 

“Thanks, guys,” Peter said holding your hand again.

“Congrats on getting the girl finally,” Steve said.

Before you two left you saw Nat wink at you and you smiled running away with Peter most likely to go cuddle and maybe fuck another round if your body feels better. As much as you hate to admit, thank god Peter smelled that fucking plant.