#like i know i don’t know him personally… but i know someone has good vibes when i see them

[maxdibert]

While you’re at it, with the pros and cons of dating; can you also give out few opinions on examples of what said characters’ type is? Like, what kind of woman/man meets their standards? What characteristics should one have?

I truly believe that in the case of Lily and James, it’s quite clear why they were a genuinely compatible couple. I mean, Lily is a means for James to publicly reaffirm his political stance by marrying someone socially inferior, thus proving that he "isn’t like the other rich people," not to mention he didn’t just choose any socially inferior woman, but a beautiful, successful, and socially popular one. In other words, someone he could present in society. Similarly, James reaffirms Lily’s need to feel part of a society that excludes her because of her origins, in a way validating her by a member of the elite of that society who rejects her, and by association, gaining a place in it. They both care about their social image, both like to be the life of the party, and both give off the vibes of enjoying the fact that others have a great image of them because, in a way, their self-esteem relies on how others perceive them. So I totally bet they complement each other as a couple.

As for Sirius, I’ve always said that if he can’t be with James, who is basically the great obsession (ahem, love ahem) of his life, then he’d probably end up with some pure-blood witch from a very good, rich family. Because let’s be honest, Sirius didn’t obsess over just any guy, he obsessed over a guy from the same social class as him, rich like him, popular like him, an equal. Sirius is the type of person who would sleep with Muggle-borns or even Muggles just to piss off his mother, and he’d even bring them home to annoy Walburga. But when it comes down to it, if he really had to settle down, and if he can’t settle down with his beloved James because the world made him straight, then he’d seek out a pure-blood girl from a good family whose environment isn’t necessarily against blood purity but also isn’t supportive of it—maybe neutral—and who probably has the same shitty personality as his mother because Sirius has serious mommy issues and probably needs a push-and-pull dynamic similar to what he had with Walburga. I know a lot of people won’t agree with this, but I don’t care because my therapist would tell me I’m totally right lol.

Remus... Well, I don’t know. A person who wouldn’t get pregnant by him? Honestly, I want Remus about 10,000 km away from anyone, because everyone deserves someone in a relationship who isn’t a coward and won’t run away at the first sign of trouble. But, above all, they deserve someone who doesn’t need a teenager to lecture them into doing what any person with common sense would do without even thinking about it. I really wouldn’t wish a Remus as a partner on anyone. Well, maybe on my worst enemy, but that’s it.

And Peter... I think Peter would be happy with someone who could help him climb socially, gain status, and be feared. Probably someone who would take control of the relationship and whom he could admire and feel very proud to have been chosen by. Peter sought recognition through association because he was incapable of getting it on his own, so he’d probably go for someone who could guarantee him that social recognition.

Then there’s Severus, who as I’ve said many times, would probably be with someone who could deal with the multiple traumas he has but, above all, with his awful personality. Because Severus has a terrible temperament and zero anger management. Being with Severus means you have a partner who will certainly be loyal and won’t betray your trust, someone who will be there for you when you need them, but also someone with a lot of unresolved issues that can make him explode at any moment when he feels threatened or triggered, and that’s very difficult to handle. And like I said in another post about this specific topic a few weeks ago, he doesn’t need someone who acts like his mother or nurse and takes care of him like he’s a sick, invalid person, but someone with the guts to stand up to him and tell him to fuck off when it’s necessary, because the reality is that Severus responds best and realizes his mistakes when they’re shoved in his face. I’ve always thought he’d do well with someone who also had their own issues because that way it’d be easier for there to be mutual understanding. But this is very brief; I talked at length about this in another post a couple of weeks ago. This is the very short version, but I hope it’s enough.

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[eclips-moon]

The Batboys being clingy headcanon:

Including Duke and Bruce <3

Hope you guys like it!

Tim Drake Tim’s clinginess is low-key, but it’s also constant. He’s the type to text you “What’s up? I miss you <3” while you’re just sitting 5 feet away from him. If you so much as stand up to go get a snack, he’s immediately there, like, “Where are you going? Don’t leave me.” He’ll lean against you, his hand finding yours without him even realizing it. When you're watching TV or reading, he’s definitely leaning into your side, trying to get as close as possible without being too obvious. But if you move to shift positions? Nope, he’s following you. He’ll slip his arm around your waist, all like, “Don’t think I didn’t notice that.” He’s not a big PDA guy, but when it’s just the two of you? Prepare for cuddles, hand-holding, and small, random kisses. He’s gotta be touching you constantly.

Jason Todd Jason is obsessive, no doubt. He’s that partner who’ll try to act like he’s tough and independent, but the moment you show him any kind of affection, he’s all over you. Like, you can’t just hug him. No. He’ll climb into your lap and basically trap you there, rubbing his face into your neck like a cat. He’s gonna constantly ask for kisses, too, but not just little pecks—he wants full-on, deep kisses where he can pull you close and remind you that you’re his. If you’re doing something, like, working or even hanging out with friends, he’ll try to drag you away, be like, “Hey, come hang out with me, stop ignoring me for two seconds.” He’s possessive, but in the cutest way, constantly needing your attention. If you even talk to another person for too long, he’ll give them side-eye and pull you back to him like, “You good? You’re not gonna leave me for some random guy, are you?” He’s also the type to cling to you in bed, hogging the covers and curling up like a human koala.

Dick Grayson Dick’s clingy energy is pure gold. He’s the most affectionate of the bunch and doesn’t shy away from public displays of love. He loves hugging you from behind, nuzzling into your neck, and just randomly planting kisses all over your face. He’ll text you “miss you <3” every few hours when you’re apart, and when you’re together? It’s all about touch. He’s sitting on your lap, or leaning on your shoulder, or pulling you into his chest just because he needs to be close to you. If you’re watching a movie, he’s definitely going to have his head in your lap, just to be as close to you as humanly possible. He gets giddy when he gets attention from you, too. You could be playing with his hair, and he’ll melt. He’ll whine like, “I’m not clingy, you’re clingy. But also, I love it. So don’t stop.” Honestly, Dick doesn’t care if he’s acting like a bit of a puppy—he’s obsessed with you, and he makes sure you know it.

Damian Wayne Damian’s clingy moments are hilariously dramatic. He might start out cold, acting like he doesn’t need anyone, but as soon as you show him any affection? He’s all in. He’ll randomly grab your hand and hold it like it’s the most important thing in the world. If you try to walk away from him for whatever reason, he’ll growl and pull you back in, like, “Where are you going? You’re staying right here.” He has this whole vibe of “I don’t need anyone else, just you”, so if you’re talking to someone else or looking away from him for too long, he’ll wrap his arm around your waist and be like, “I don’t think you should be talking to them. They might steal you away from me.” In bed? He’s a hug monster, wrapping his arms around you like he’s never letting you go. He’s all about the intimacy, though—when it’s just the two of you, he’ll be soft and surprisingly vulnerable, making sure you know that he needs you more than he lets on.

Duke Thomas Duke is lowkey super clingy, but in the way that’s goofy and endearing. He loves to follow you around, like, just wherever you go, he’s tagging along. You’re going to the kitchen? He’s there. To grab something from the laundry room? He’s there. If you sit down, he’s sitting on the floor next to you, asking if you want to “cuddle and watch dumb shows together.” He’s always finding excuses to touch you—like, his hand will just casually rest on your knee or he’ll come up behind you and play with your hair. And if you don’t give him attention? He’ll pout, even if he’s trying to play it off, like, “Aren’t you gonna give me a kiss? C’mon, don’t leave me hanging.” He’s the type who’ll give you a silly smile, lean in for a kiss, and then pull you into a full-on hug like, “Don’t go. I’m not done with you yet.” He’s all about the hugs, especially after a long day. You’ll be just chilling, and suddenly he’s like, “Hug time, right? Let me get one.”

Bruce Wayne Now, Bruce is not the type to openly admit he’s clingy. He’s still the stoic, brooding billionaire who’s been through a lot, but when it’s just the two of you? He’s softer than anyone expects. He’ll always make sure you’re physically close—his hand on your lower back, your legs touching when you sit next to him, and if he’s standing near you, his hand will casually rest on your arm. When you’re working late or doing something serious, Bruce will occasionally pull you away for a few minutes just to kiss you or hold you close. He’s not great at asking for attention, but when he’s feeling clingy, he’ll show you through little gestures. You’ll find him just sitting beside you in silence, just content to be in your presence. He’s a man of few words, but when he’s clingy, it’s all about the touch—the way he holds your hand, how he presses his shoulder to yours, and how he’ll insist on driving you home or waiting up for you, just to make sure you’re safe.

[cruel-seduction]

Theodore Nott Headcanons

Warning: This piece contains themes of possessiveness, obsessive behavior, and dark romance undertones. Theodore’s devotion might be overwhelming, intense, and not suited for everyone’s taste. Reader discretion is advised.

(+ Requests are open so if you wanna request something, go ahead)

mdni 18+

Theodore Nott 

6’4 | He’s taller than Mattheo, and yes, he lords it over him (quietly, of course, because Theo is above petty behavior… unless it’s funny).

Lean, but don’t be fooled—this man is cut. He’s that deadly kind of fit where you don’t notice at first because he’s always wearing loose sweaters and looking like a poetry major. But the second the sleeves roll up? Oh. My. God. Veins for DAYS, hands strong enough to snap a wand in half (or your will to argue).

He doesn’t work out. Like, ever. He’s just naturally like this. Probably from lugging around all those dark magic books and the emotional weight of his trauma (we love a man with issues!).

(He could choke you with one hand while quoting Dante and your ghost would thank him. RESPECTFULLY!)

Has that sleepy, “don’t bother me, I’m too cool for this” kind of vibe. Until he’s pissed, and suddenly it’s quiet rage central. A single glare from him could silence an entire Great Hall—and probably has.

His abs? Unfair. They’re there, but in the casual, effortless way that makes you want to cry because why do they look that good without trying? If you’re lucky enough to see him shirtless (bless your soul), you’ll be rethinking your life decisions.

Quidditch player energy without ever actually playing. His thing? Sitting in the stands, sipping black coffee, and judging everyone while looking hot.

"YOU WANNA KNOW IF I’D FOLLOW THEODORE INTO A CURSED FOREST AT MIDNIGHT JUST BECAUSE HE SAID SO??? THE ANSWER IS YES. I’D GO, NO QUESTIONS ASKED."

You think he’s calm and controlled until you see him in a duel, and suddenly he’s throwing hexes like he’s possessed. It’s giving “do-not-poke-the-bear” energy, and it’s hot.

His smirk? Criminal. It’s the kind of smirk that makes you forget how to breathe for a second and then hate yourself because he definitely knows the effect it has on people.

“Mia cara,” he says, and you’re done for. No wand needed. He just obliterated your whole existence.

Theodore Nott | Personality

He’s quiet, but it’s that kind of quiet. The "I could verbally destroy you with a single sentence but choose not to because I have better things to do" kind of quiet.

(WE LOVE A MAN WITH RESTRAINED CHAOS!!! IT’S SO SEXY!!!)

His reputation is split down the middle. People either think he’s the chillest guy in Slytherin or they’re low-key terrified of him. There is no in-between. He doesn’t go out of his way to make people uncomfortable, but if you catch his bad side? RIP to you, my friend.

Very composed most of the time, but don’t mistake that for softness. Theo doesn’t raise his voice; he raises his eyebrow. And somehow, that’s worse.

"You really thought that was a good idea? Cute."

Stone-cold when it comes to confrontations. No yelling, no theatrics—just a quiet menace that makes you wish he’d scream at you instead because this is SO MUCH WORSE.

However, if it’s for his friends? Oh, baby, the gloves come off. Someone messes with Mattheo? He’s done. Someone insults you? They’re not showing up to class tomorrow. He’s terrifyingly efficient when it comes to protecting the people he loves.

Doesn’t talk a lot in fights, but his insults are cutting when they come out. And he does it with a smirk that makes you want to both slap him and kiss him.

"What’s the matter? Spellbook too heavy for you? Or is it just that your brain isn’t working?"

Unlike Mattheo, he doesn’t get in trouble for starting fights. Oh no, Theo’s the one who talks his way out of detention, leaving the professors wondering how they ended up apologizing to him.

Let’s be real, Theo has layers. He’s the kind of guy who looks calm and put together on the outside, but his mind? A mess. Overthinks everything, but you’ll never know it because he’s mastered the art of hiding his emotions. (He’s good at this, but it’s also probably why he sleeps like four hours a night.)

Moody, but in a subtle way. You’ll notice when he’s upset because he’ll get even quieter, or start tapping his fingers on the table. He’s not the type to vent about it—he’ll just say “it’s nothing” while his jaw clenches so hard you swear you hear it crack.

Theo loves order. He’s a perfectionist and gets mildly stressed when things don’t go according to plan. He doesn’t lose his temper, though—he just sighs dramatically and mutters something in Italian like "Per l’amor del cielo..."

(BILINGUAL KINGS ARE UNFAIR. WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE CAN INSULT ME IN TWO LANGUAGES?)

A total academic weapon. Not because he tries super hard, but because he’s just naturally brilliant and does the bare minimum to get top marks. He can explain a spell you’ve been struggling with for days in five seconds flat, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Always looks like he’s in control, but put him in social situations? Total disaster. Theo’s not awkward, but he doesn’t do small talk. Half the time, he just nods politely and hopes whoever’s talking gets the hint.

Has the driest sense of humor. He’ll drop a sarcastic one-liner so deadpan you’re not even sure if he’s joking.

"I think your essay was… bold. Choosing to write it in such a confusing way must’ve been a creative choice."

Drinks coffee like it’s water. Black coffee, of course. None of that sugary stuff, though he secretly loves when you make him try your sweet drink.

Doesn’t like parties but goes because the group makes him. He’s the guy sitting on the couch, watching everyone else make fools of themselves while holding a drink he hasn’t touched. (He’s your ride home because you know he’s always sober enough to apparate responsibly.)

Theodore Nott | Boyfriend

Ah, Theodore Nott, the walking paradox of calculated charm and quiet vulnerability. Having him as your boyfriend is like playing chess against a master—except the stakes are your heart, and he already has you in checkmate before you even realize the game started.

Manipulation, Thy Name is Theo:Theodore isn’t one to beg for your love; oh no, he’s too smooth for that. Instead, he’ll make sure you think choosing him was your idea all along.

He’ll subtly nudge you into needing him.

He anticipates your desires before you even say them aloud:

"Thirsty? I grabbed your favorite drink. Tired? Don’t worry, I already finished that essay you were stressing about."

He’s not loud about his possessiveness, but it’s there. You don’t realize it at first, but suddenly, every other guy who tries to get too close to you is either giving you a wide berth or “just happened” to fail their next exam. Coincidence? With Theo, nothing is a coincidence.

(We love a man who’s low-key terrifying but only in a protective way!)

How He Realized He Was in Love:Theo didn’t believe in love. Love was messy, uncontrollable, and entirely too risky for someone who thrived on precision and control. But then you came along, and everything changed.

It was slow at first. He didn’t notice it happening until one day, you smiled at him across the library, and he felt his carefully constructed walls crack.

And then it hit him.

“Merlin, I’m in love with her.”

Of course, Theo didn’t panic outwardly. No, he spent the next week internally spiraling.

"What does this mean?"

"What if she doesn’t feel the same way?"

"How do I tell her without sounding like an idiot?"

Eventually, he decided that subtlety was overrated. One evening, while you were sitting in his dorm, flipping through one of his books, he just said it.

"I love you."

You froze, unsure if you heard him correctly. He didn’t look away, his intense gaze pinning you in place.

"You don’t have to say it back. I just needed you to know."

Affection, Theo Style:Theo isn’t flashy or over-the-top, but he’s deeply romantic in his own way.

Words of Praise: He’s a master of compliments that don’t feel like compliments until you think about them later.

"You’re too brilliant for this school, you know that?""How do you manage to look stunning even when you’re furious with me?""You’re the only person who’s ever managed to make me lose focus, mia cara."

Subtle Acts of Service: He’s always doing things for you without making a big deal out of it. Your favorite quill broke? There’s a new one on your desk the next day. You’re stressed about a test? He’ll quiz you until you feel confident (and then reward you with a kiss for every right answer).

The Praise Kink Is Real, Babe:Theo doesn’t just praise you to make you feel good. He needs you to know how much he adores you. Whether it’s your intelligence, your kindness, or just the way you look in his sweater, he’s always quick to remind you of your worth.

"You’re too good for me, you know that?" he murmurs against your ear, his hand resting on your hip. "But don’t think for a second I’ll ever let you go."

(Is it hot in here or is it just Theo?)

The Possessiveness Comes Out in Subtle Ways:

At parties, his hand is always resting somewhere on you—your lower back, your shoulder, your thigh. A quiet signal to everyone else: She’s mine.

If someone flirts with you, he doesn’t cause a scene. Instead, he’ll step in with that dangerously calm demeanor, his words laced with thinly veiled threats.

"I believe you’re in my seat." Translation: Touch her again, and you’ll regret it.

Theodore, the Unexpected Softie:For someone so composed, Theo is surprisingly soft when it’s just the two of you.

He loves curling up with you on the couch, one arm draped over your shoulders while he reads aloud from a book he thinks you’d enjoy.

Sleeps with one hand always touching you—your waist, your hand, your hair. It’s the only time he truly relaxes.

Occasionally whispers “I don’t deserve you” when he thinks you’re asleep.

Having Theo as a boyfriend is a rollercoaster of intensity and tenderness. He’s the type to protect you from the world while also making you feel like you’re the center of his universe. And honestly? We’d ride that roller coaster over and over again.

Theodore Nott | Obsessive Devotion

If Mattheo is chaos in bed, Theodore is calculated destruction. Theo doesn’t rush—no, he takes his time. He knows every move, every word, every touch is designed to drive you absolutely insane.

The Slow Burn King:Theo isn’t just about getting you off; he’s about making you beg. He’s not the type to drag you into the nearest broom closet and go at it like a madman. No, Theo prefers to let the tension build—catching your eye across the library with a smirk, his hand brushing yours during dinner, leaning in close to whisper something sinful in your ear when no one else is looking.

"You’re squirming, mia cara. Tell me, what’s on your mind?"

Possessive but Polished:He loves control—holding you still with a firm grip while his mouth works wonders between your thighs. Theo thrives on the sound of your moans and whimpers, each one a confirmation that you belong to him.

But don’t get it twisted: his possessiveness is refined. He’s not shouting it from the rooftops; instead, he’s branding it into your skin with every kiss, every bite, every low growl of, “Mine.”

(We love a man who can ruin our lives with just one look.)

Praise You Like a Goddess:Theo is the king of praise. He’s not subtle about how much he worships you, and he makes sure you know it.

"You’re so perfect, amore mio. I could stay like this forever, just watching you fall apart for me."

He’ll kiss every inch of your skin like it’s holy ground. He’ll tell you how beautiful you are when you’re flushed, trembling, and completely at his mercy.

And if you praise him back? Game over. Tell him he’s a good boy, and suddenly you’ve unlocked the most obedient, eager-to-please version of Theo. He’ll do anything to hear you say it again.

Control with a Dash of Chaos:Theo’s not loud, but his intensity is deafening. He thrives on being in control, but sometimes he loves to break his own rules. If you push him just enough—maybe tease him in public or drag him into a forbidden situation—he’ll snap in the most delicious way.

"You think you can play games with me? Let me show you how this ends, bella."

Experimentation, but Make It Sophisticated:Theo isn’t one to dive into wild kinks without purpose, but he’s creative when it comes to trying new things.

Silk ties? Check.

Blindfolds? Of course.

Whispering Latin endearments in your ear while he has you completely at his mercy? A standard Tuesday night.

And don’t get me started on the way he uses his fingers—this man could write symphonies with how skillfully he plays your body like an instrument.

Stamina for Days:Don’t let his cool demeanor fool you—Theo can and will go for hours. He has the patience to draw out every moment until you’re gasping and begging for release, and then he’ll do it all over again.

"Oh no, dolcezza. We’re not finished yet. Not until I’ve had my fill of you."

Switch Theo = UNLOCKED:Normally, Theo’s the one in control, but when you take charge? When you straddle his hips, grip his jaw, and order him to behave? He’s putty in your hands.

"Tell me what you want, bella. Anything—it’s yours."

And the best part? He loves it. Watching you take what you want from him, hearing you praise him as he falls apart under your touch—it’s enough to drive him to the brink every single time.

In Private, He’s All Yours:While Theo keeps his emotions tightly guarded in public, behind closed doors, he’s all in. He loves to hold you afterward, running his fingers through your hair and whispering sweet nothings as you both come down from the high.

"You’re everything, you know that? My whole world."

Having Theodore Nott as a lover is like being the muse of a masterpiece—every touch, every word, every moment is designed to make you feel like the most desired person on the planet. And honestly? We’re not complaining

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Please like, Reblog, and comment.

[soarrenbluejay]

Since I’ve been encouraged to actually share my funny little blorbo ideas here’s another one gang;

Danny moves to Gotham on scholarship for engineering, because the Fentons may be infamous but they’re also insanely brilliant and besides both he and Jazz are showing every sign of embarrassed child of a super genius syndrome, so while the bats are keeping a close eye on him Just In Case, duke is also thinking of introducing him to the Our Parents Are Maniacs But Anyway club maybe after the first month or so.

Gotham does not go for standard dorm living bc of his ‘condition’ and lack of wanting to constantly spook/gaslight a roommate. Besides, living with two small children is a dorm sounds like a disaster in action.

So Danny signs up as a mechanic in Crime Alley, buys himself a teeny weensy lil apartment and Makes It Work. He has been all year after showing up with a de aged Dani and Dan in Amnity after all, and that had gone,,, fine? (The entire town, observing how Danny had been getting increasingly more uncomfortable around his godfather prior to the cloning incident, then just dropped off the face of the earth for several months, the first two weeks stuck in Vlad’s basement enduring horrors and the next Too Many desperately fapping around in the Ghost Zone to get everything handled. All the clones live, all 13 of them. Bunch of them are stuck in the Ghost Zone due to constant need for ectoplasm, but eh, plenty of Zone born never leave, so. One, in the future, apprentices under a green warrior lady on Pandora’s suggestion, another is working in the Eternal Library with Ghost Writer, etc etc. so Danny eventually came back to Amnity with one small child under each arm very obviously traumatized by Somethingn with vlad and doesn’t like being alone with him,,, or touched without warning,, and immediately and passionately proclaims the kids his but struggles to explain how or why,, look some very reasonable assumptions are drawn okay. So the town does the very reasonable thing and does the midwestern equivilant of excommunicating Vlad, except it’s a lot more run him out with pitchforks vibes since he’s the Mayor. Anyway)

He is immediately loved, because while non Gothamites are usually more of a pain than they’re worth, everyone in a while someone even from out of town will just fit in so nicely it’s uncanny for everyone involved. Addams family vibes, it’s referred to as ‘making it home’, just personal hc. He is protective of all the kids playing in the parks and street girls that can totally take care of themselves on their corners but find it HILARIOUS when he just tackles a dick like a wild animal full force no warning. He can fix anything it seems, but refuses to work with weapons. Reasonable enough, people get twitchy about gangs sometimes. Danny mentions being not against Hood or anything, but he’s not going to work for him, littles to take care of and all, but had past experience with ‘Dora and that inheritance mess with her brother he was being a real prick about’ so everyone assumes it’s the equivilant of him having Done His Time and being plenty good for a life time and respects it as long as none of that petty midwestern small town hotshots bring any of that shit over here. And they don’t, because said individuals are on the other side of the mortal veil, so happy day.

See I really love deaged!Dan because he’s just a grumpy lil guy. But he’s also killed millions. He’s so protective of his loved ones, but held back by blending in and also being Smol that it comes off more bitey kitten than anything else. Dani, of course, is a terror, so she fits right in with the crowd.

And sorry gang, but a bunch of kids on their own in Gotham in a poor side of the city just isn’t going to get any attention: that’s just business as usual really. What first gets attention on Danny is not his ‘condition’ or being mistaken for a meta (which he legally probs has an argument for even without the gene bc like these bitches don’t know how metaism works anyway so) or alien (I’m 90% sure he’d be covered by the alien protection act by virtue of being half ‘not from earth’), but because Danny despite best efforts is a Weird Guy.

He grew up in what could only be described as a low level villain level and spent most of high school dealing with smack downs and spiritual invasion. He’s never really processed that any of that is not in fact Normal. Also, he’s capable of making Anything if given the insides of a toaster, blender and alarm clock, and could probably rewrite the circuits of the apartment blindfolded and improve them 1000% even if it ABSOLUTELY would not be up to code.

And sure, things slip every once in a while, bits of spectral ice here, small floating incident there, but everyone just Minds Their Buisness ya know? You really gunna mess with the guy that personally ensured that when your car got flattened by a fight with Killer Croc, you were still able to get in to work the next day by some wizardry? Really?

But Gotham is a city so cursed it’s probably in the exponents countwise, so of course there is a) a flourishing community of magic users and assorted supernatural weirdos and b) a whole lot of shit for Mega Overpowered Ghost King Danny to idly pick at day to day in order to help with his protecting other Obsession. Gotham has plenty of heroes, but by god do they need the spiritual equivilant of an electrician/priest.

Still, Danny, as a baby ancient under a facet of Kronos and KING OF THE DEAD is like, way, way out of their scope to be able to grok, so it mostly just comes off as you know, a family of banshees or something. When asked, Danny very haltingly says he was briefly dead but then revived, which neatly explains his Weird Ass aura and makes it SPECTACULARLY AWKWARD to ask further about. So everyone nods politely, and goes back to their lives after double checking no nefarious bullshit was being pulled.

Then, of course, Vlad finally tracks them down. The whole neighborhood is altered in short order because he doesn’t bother trying to hide being a Rich Bitch or how he’s sneering down his nose at people on the sidewalk. Every connects the dots when Danny paniks. Dani and Dan’s daycare are staffed with some extra, very buff set of hands within the hour. Jerry, Hood’s third in command, personally shows up to the garage Danny is working at to talk things out with him bc he knows he does t like the deal with this stuff due to past unspecified circumstances but well, they guys had already started fucking with him, you see. Stole his tires, spray painted the windows, pickpocketed him blind, and when he retreated tipped off the police to the drugs they’d planted in the glove box.

Danny might not have been born in Gotham, but he was one of them. And the Alley takes care of it own.

[heartsriki]

CUPID'S CHAOS ⌇화살

FLIRT ALERT! series⌇Lee Heeseung | next

pairing ᝰ heeseung x fem!reader

— featuring.. n/a | word count: 4k+

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺ college au, fluff, bickering, misunderstandings, obliviousness, 2000’s rom com vibe, kisses, pet name use (?), reader is a writer!

synopsis — You accidentally become the campus’s cupid, delivering love letters to everyone— no exception to the one meant for Heeseung even though you had the biggest crush on him. When he asks for help finding his secret admirer, You scramble to keep your own feelings hidden… until you realize that love letter was your own.

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊I’m not sure if I like this but… I hope you guys do… guys fair warning these oneshots will be extremely corny and fluffy but its valentines month so i cant control it fr! MY FIRST HEESEUNG FIC WHO CHEERED, also happy birthday jw my baby :(

Seriously just what did you get yourself into?

The first incident or “love letter” arrived onto your doorstep on a random Wednesday. It was just a soft pink envelope sealed with a heart-shaped sticker. At first, you thought it was for you until you saw the name of the girl in your english class. Maybe someone had the wrong dorm number. But when another letter shows up the next day, and then another, you start to realize two things:

1. Someone on campus has a serious crush problem.

2. You have somehow become their personal delivery service.

By Friday, you had a whole collection of letters meant for people you barely know. With no better plan, you start slipping them into the correct mailbox, dropping them onto desks, and handing them off with a whispered, “This is for you.”

Before you know it, people started calling you the ‘Campus Cupid’.

It’s kind of fun—watching couples get together, seeing people’s eyes light up when they read something sweet. That is, until you find his letter.

Lee Heeseungs letter. The guy with the lazy smile and unfairly good hair. The guy who always seems to be exactly where you don’t need him to be. The guy you have been crushing on way more than you meant to.

It was no surprise that he would get sent a letter. He was the darling of the campus, he was a charmer, talented in sports and without a doubt extremely handsome.

You examined the letter. It was morally right to give it to him… right?

Frowning, you place the letter in his usual seat. Just because you liked him didn’t mean you can take his right of knowing that someone else does.

The day passes without you thinking too much about the letter you placed on Heeseung’s desk. Or at least, you try not to think about it. It’s not like it matters, right? Someone else likes him. No big deal.

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

But then, right after your afternoon lecture, Heeseung finds you outside the lecture hall, love letter in hand.

“Hey, Cupid.” His voice is casual, but there’s a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. He holds up the letter between two fingers. “Any idea who wrote this?”

Your heart stops.

You stare at the letter, forcing yourself to keep calm. You knew this would happen. Of course, Heeseung would be curious. You should just tell him you don’t know. That’s what you should do.

But something about the way he’s looking at you makes you hesitate.

Frowning, you take the letter from his hands, pretending to examine it like if you hadn’t stared at it for hours before handing it to him. But when you open it and your eyes scan the page, confusion settles in.

There’s no name. No initials. Nothing.

That’s strange. Most of the letters you’ve delivered always had at least a tiny clue. An initial, a signature, sometimes even a number with a name.

“What’s with that look? You must’ve seen who gave it to you, no?” Heeseung asks, raising a brow.

You look back at the letter, skimming over the heart felt words. It was weird intruding someone’s feelings like this but with Heeseungs intense stare you couldn’t say no. The letter said:

I don’t know when it started, but you’ve always been there. In the background, in the crowd, just close enough to notice, but never close enough to reach. It’s frustrating, liking someone like this. Sometimes I wish I never met you in that cafe because now you’re all I ever think about, I hope I can confront you someday.

Your stomach twists.

The handwriting. The way certain letters are slanted. The way some words are scratched out and rewritten.

It’s… familiar.

Too familiar.

Your breath catches.

Oh.

Oh no.

It was yours.

See, the first time you met Heeseung, it wasn’t in a lecture hall or at some college party—it was at a small cafe just off campus, the kind of place students flocked to for overpriced lattes and last-minute study sessions.

You had been there first, tucked into a corner seat with your laptop open and a half-empty cup of coffee beside you. The cafe was packed, the usual rush of students scrambling for caffeine before their next class, and you were too focused on your work to notice him walk in.

That is, until you heard a voice—smooth, slightly out of breath—directed at you.

“Hey, is this seat taken?”

You looked up, and that was the first time you saw Lee Heeseung up close.

Messy brown hair, a hoodie thrown over a plain t-shirt, dark eyes filled with something playful yet sleepy at the same time. You recognized him vaguely—he was in one of your general electives, though he always sat near the back, half-hidden behind his laptop. He was the kind of guy people noticed without him even trying, whether it was because of his reputation on the basketball team or just the effortless way he carried himself.

And now, he was standing in front of you, waiting for an answer.

You blinked. “Oh, um—no, go ahead.”

“Thanks,” he said, sliding into the chair across from you. He set down his coffee cup, then pulled out a notebook, flipping through the pages lazily. “You’re in my media studies class, right?”

You hadn’t expected him to recognize you, much less strike up a conversation.

“Yeah,” you admitted. “I sit near the front.”

“Right, that’s why I never see you,” he said with a lopsided grin. “I usually get there late.”

You let out a small laugh despite yourself. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

For some reason, that seemed to amuse him. Heeseung leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen against his notebook. “So, what’s got you looking so serious? Studying for something?”

You glanced at your laptop screen. “Not exactly. Just… trying to finish an article for the campus paper.”

That caught his interest. “You write for the paper?”

“Kind of. It’s just an opinion column. Nothing major.”

Heeseung tilted his head, considering. “I’ll have to check it out sometime. Maybe I’ll learn something.”

You rolled your eyes, but you could feel your face growing warm. Heeseung had this way of making everything sound lighthearted, but there was something about the way he was looking at you—like he actually meant it—that made your stomach flip.

You didn’t know it then, but that moment—him sitting across from you in a crowded cafe, lazily flipping through his notes while keeping light conversations, smiling at you like you were the only person worth paying attention to—that was the moment it started.

The quiet, unshakable feeling of a new beginning forming.

You blink rapidly, snapping back to reality, only to find Heeseung staring at you with a curious tilt of his head.

“You good?” He waves a hand in front of your face, and you realize you’ve been gripping the letter like it personally offended you.

“Yeah!” You blurt out, a little too quickly. “Fine. Super fine.”

Heeseung narrows his eyes, but instead of questioning your suspicious expressions, he leans against the wall next to you, arms crossed, the picture of casual confidence. “So? Any idea who my secret admirer is?”

Your stomach does a full gymnastics routine.

Yeah, actually, it’s me. Surprise!

Obviously, you can’t say that.

You force a laugh, shoving the letter back into his hands like it’s a ticking time bomb. “No clue! There are so many love letters I deal with around campus, you know? Could be anyone.”

Heeseung mockingly pouted. “Come on, Cupid. If anyone can figure it out, it’s you.”

You freeze. Oh no.

Heeseung grins, nudging your arm playfully. “Please? be my lead detective I need to know who has this much of a crush on me.”

You stare at him, trying not to look as horrified as you feel. He’s practically pleading, eyes shining with excitement. He wants to know. He’s curious.

And you?

You want the earth to swallow you whole.

But instead, you swallow down your panic and give him your most confident, totally-not-dying-inside smile. “Yeah, sure! I’ll, uh… I’ll let you know if I figure it out.”

Great. Now you’re investigating your own love letter.

Romcoms make this look so much easier.

In your defense, the love letter was never supposed to see the light of day.

It had been one of those late-night, caffeine-fueled brain dumps—the kind where your emotions got the best of you, and instead of focusing on your essay due at midnight, you had decided, hey, why not write a dramatic love confession you’ll never actually send?

It started off as a joke. A harmless what if?

What if you had the guts to tell Heeseung how you felt?

What if you weren’t just the campus Cupid, but actually someone worth writing about?

What if, for once, you weren’t just the messenger in everyone else’s love stories?

So, you had poured your heart onto the page. You wrote about how frustrating it was, liking someone from a distance—watching him laugh in the campus café, seeing him glide effortlessly through every class, always just out of reach. You let yourself be honest, because no one was ever supposed to read it.

And then? You stuffed it into your notebook, forgot about it, and went about your life like it never happened.

Until now.

Now, it was in Heeseung’s hands just because you thought it was written by someone else, and now you were stuck in the worst romcom of all time—investigating your own love letter while trying desperately to keep your crush a secret.

Honestly?

You were so, so doomed.

“So, what do you think?”

You try to keep your face neutral as Heeseung waves the letter in front of you, looking more confused than anything.

“About… what?” You ask cautiously.

“This.” He gestures to the paper. “The letter. My so-called ‘secret admirer.’”

Your spoke before you could stop yourself. “So…you figure out who it is. What happens then?”

He thinks, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, i’ll turn them down, it’s really flattering but it’s also kind of a hassle.”

A hassle?

You force out a laugh, even as your stomach twists into knots. “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad. Someone clearly put a lot of thought into this.”

“That’s the problem.” Heeseung exhales sharply. “I wasn’t expecting this. Im interested in someone else, and now I have to figure out how to let this person down without making things awkward.”

Your face heats up. You want to disappear.

“So, you’re not interested in them…? You like someone already?” You ask hesitantly, barely able to get the words out.

Heeseung shakes his head. “I don’t even know who they are. But I hope they don’t take it the wrong way, Y’know?”

You stare at him, pulse pounding in your ears.

He has no idea.

And now? You definitely can’t confess.

Not when you already know his answer.

And if there was one thing worse than knowing Heeseung didn’t want a relationship, it was actively helping him investigate your own confession.

Every day, he’d bring up new theories about who could’ve written the letter, and every day, you’d have to nod along, pretending to be just as clueless.

At first, it wasn’t so bad. Heeseung didn’t seem to be taking it too seriously, mostly brushing it off whenever it came up. But as the days passed, something shifted… just slightly.

“Okay, so hear me out,” Heeseung said, leaning against the bookshelf beside you. The library was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of papers and muffled whispers. “What if it’s someone from one of my classes?”

You kept your eyes on your laptop screen, pretending to focus on your assignment. “You already went through that theory. Twice.”

“Yeah, but I was thinking—what if they’re too nervous to say anything in person? What if it’s, like… someone who sits far away from me?”

You bit your lip. “And yet, you’re still expecting me to figure it out?”

“Well, you’re good at reading people.” Heeseung grinned, nudging your arm. “You always seem to know what’s going on with everyone.”

Your heart stuttered. If only he knew just how right he was.

Heeseung sighed, folding his arms over his chest. “I don’t get it. They wrote all this deep, meaningful stuff, but they didn’t sign their name. What’s the point of confessing if you don’t want the person to know?”

You swallowed hard. “Maybe they were scared.”

Heeseung tilted his head slightly, looking at you in that way that always made you feel like he could see through you. “Scared of what?”

You hesitated. “Of ruining what they already have.”

His expression shifted. “You think they know me?”

You forced a shrug. “Probably. Why else would they write all that?”

Something flickered in his gaze, something unreadable. He held your gaze for a second too long before clearing his throat. “Huh. I never really thought about it like that.”

You turned back to your screen, desperate to focus on anything else. But then Heeseung moved closer, his arm brushing against yours as he leaned in to look at your laptop.

“What are you even working on?” he asked, voice quieter now, like the space between you had shrunk to something more intimate.

You could barely think straight. “Just… an essay.”

“Hm.” He didn’t sound convinced.

His voice was too close. His scent—clean, with a hint of something warm—was too distracting. It was stupid, so stupid, how easily he got under your skin without even trying.

The next few days started to get a little weird.

Heeseung had always been playful, always teasing and leaning in too close, but now it felt… different.

It was in the way he started remembering the little things—how you liked your coffee, how you tapped your fingers when you were thinking, how you always fixed your hair when you were nervous.

It was in the way he kept looking at you, his gaze lingering a little too long before he caught himself.

It was in the way his teasing changed—less casual, more intentional. Like he wanted to see how you’d react.

And then, one night, things got dangerous.

You were in his dorm, flipping through the list of names you had pretended to compile for the investigation. Heeseung sat on the floor beside you, his laptop balanced on his knees, absentmindedly chewing on a pen cap as he read through the letter again.

“You know…” he said, tilting his head, “whoever wrote this is actually really good with words.”

Your blinked. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s, like… weirdly personal.” He frowned slightly, scanning the page. “I feel how much they mean it.”

You held your breath.

He let out a soft laugh. “Honestly, it kinda sounds like your writing.”

Your heart stopped.

Your head snapped up so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash. “What?”

Heeseung blinked at you, startled. “I mean—you’re good at writing, right? I read your papers, You’ve always been good with words.”

He reads your papers?

You forced out a laugh, hoping he couldn’t hear the way your voice shook. “Right— Well, I didn’t write it, obviously.”

Heeseung studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to your horror, he smirked.

“Why do you look so guilty?”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I’m literally just existing, Heeseung. Shut up.”

He laughed, but there was something behind his eyes that made your stomach flip—something like curiosity. “Stop freaking out im just kidding.”

The investigation had led you and Heeseung all over campus, following false leads, and ultimately getting nowhere. You had been walking back toward the dorms when the sky, clear just moments ago, suddenly turned gray.

And then—of course—it started to rain.

Hard.

“Are you serious?” you groaned, pulling your jacket over your head as you and Heeseung ran toward the nearest cover—a small wooden gazebo near the campus library.

You both skidded to a stop under the roof, breathless and drenched. Heeseung shook his head like a wet dog, flinging water everywhere.

“Really?” You scowled, wiping raindrops off your face.

He laughed, ruffling his already-messy hair. “My bad.”

The sound of rain drumming against the roof filled the space between you, the cool breeze making you shiver.

“Here,” Heeseung said, shrugging off his hoodie.

You blinked at him. “What?”

“You’re cold, Cupid” he pointed out, holding the hoodie out to you. “Take it.”

“I’m fine,” you said, crossing your arms.

He scoffed. “Just take it before you get sick.”

You hesitated, but he rolled his eyes and stepped closer, draping the hoodie over your shoulders himself. The warmth of it, of him, surrounded you immediately, and your breath hitched.

You looked up at him, ready to protest, but he was already watching you—his expression unreadable, the usual teasing glint in his eyes nowhere to be found.

“Why do I feel like you’re hiding something from me?” he murmured suddenly.

Your pulse spiked. “What?”

Heeseung tilted his head slightly, studying you in a way that made your stomach twist. “I don’t know. You just…” He trailed off, then shook his head. “Never mind.”

You swallowed hard, clutching the hoodie tighter around you.

The rain kept falling around you, blurring the world outside the gazebo, making this moment feel like it existed outside of everything else—outside of reality, outside of whatever mess you had gotten yourself into.

For a split second, it felt like you weren’t just Heeseung’s reluctant investigation partner. Like you weren’t the person holding onto a secret that could ruin everything.

Like, maybe, he could actually like you back.

But then he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “We should probably wait this out before heading back.”

Just like that, the moment passed and you were left standing there in his hoodie, drowning in warmth, drowning in him, pretending you weren’t completely, helplessly falling apart.

After the rain, the campus felt quieter, the usual chatter dampened by the lingering water in the air. You walked alongside Heeseung, both of you with your hoods up, trying to shield yourselves from the leftover drizzle. It was awkward but comfortable — the kind of silence where you weren’t sure if you were supposed to talk or if it was okay just to exist in the same space.

Heeseung was the first to break it. “You know, you really don’t have to walk me all the way back to my dorm. It should be the other way around—.”

You glanced at him, trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. You were worried about your own feelings, and now, Heeseung had a way of making your heart flutter with the smallest of gestures.

“I don’t mind,” you replied quickly, too quickly. “I just figured I should, you know… make sure you’re okay.”

Heeseung chuckled, a low sound that made you feel warm despite the cool rain. “You’re acting kind of weird. Usually, you’re so naggy. I thought I’d never see you get flustered.”

You looked away, trying to hide your face. “I’m not flustered.”

There was a brief pause as Heeseung watched you. His eyes softened, the usual teasing light in them dimming a little. “You’re not fooling me, you know.”

You slowed your pace, nervous now, your heart pounding as you tried to look calm. “I’m not trying to fool anyone.”

“I think you are,” he replied, stepping a little closer, his shoulder brushing yours as the two of you continued walking side by side.

You swallowed hard. The proximity felt different now, more charged. Your voice faltered. “What do you mean?”

Heeseung didn’t respond right away. Instead, he shifted his gaze to the ground, the rain creating ripples on the wet pavement. “It’s just… you’re always so careful with what you say. Always so in control. But sometimes… I wonder if you’re hiding something.”

Your stomach dropped at his words. You glanced over at him, but he wasn’t looking at you. The air between you felt heavier, and the tension seemed to stretch out longer than usual.

“I’m not hiding anything,” you murmured, even though part of you wished he could know the truth — or maybe, just maybe, that he could feel the same way.

Heeseung’s voice was quieter now, his tone almost teasing, but there was something else in it, something deeper. “Then why do you always look at me like that? Like you’re holding back?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”

He finally met your eyes, his gaze intense. There was a flicker of something — was it vulnerability? — in his look. “Like you’re scared to let me in. What are you afraid of?”

Your breath hitched. For a split second, you were paralyzed, unsure of how to answer. Was it possible he was starting to see through your walls?

Heeseung’s gaze softened as he noticed the look on your face, sensing something unspoken. He took a step back, offering you a small, reassuring smile. “Maybe I’m just overthinking it. Forget it.”

But you couldn’t forget it. Not now. You could feel the space between the two of you shifting, the weight of his words lingering. Something was different, something had shifted, and you weren’t sure if it was just your heart racing or something more.

For the rest of the walk, neither of you spoke much. But every time your eyes met, it felt like there was a new understanding between you two — a shared secret that neither of you was ready to fully admit, but both were beginning to feel.

It had been a long day, but when you stepped out of your last class, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different. It wasn’t just the cold air or the approaching dusk; something was off, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. That was until you spotted Heeseung standing by the bench outside the library, his gaze fixed on you as if he’d been waiting for a while.

Your heart skipped a beat.

He looked at you for a moment before he spoke. “Cupid, we need to talk.”

A nervous flutter danced in your stomach, and you forced a smile. “Uh, sure. What’s up?”

He took a deep breath, stepping toward you, and you noticed the letter in his hand — the same one you’d written to him, the one that had been slipped anonymously into his mailbox just a few days ago. Your heart pounded in your chest, the realization of what was happening dawning on you.

Heeseung didn’t say anything for a moment, just held the letter between his fingers, glancing down at it. “I know this is from you,” he said quietly, his voice gentle but filled with a soft surprise. “I figured it out after I read it again.”

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. You had hoped, prayed, that he wouldn’t find out this way. But here it was, and you couldn’t avoid it any longer.

“How… How did you know?” you asked, trying to hide the nerves creeping up your voice.

He smiled slightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “A few things gave it away. The way you worded everything… It just felt like it came from you.”

“Also I found some of your notebooks while we were at your dorm and I matched the handwriting…” He blurted out.

Your heart sank. You had spent so long hoping he wouldn’t realize it was you, but now it seemed impossible to hide the truth.

“I… I’m sorry,” you said, almost embarrassed. “I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. I just… didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to make things awkward between us.”

Heeseung’s expression softened. “Why would it be awkward?”

“Because I’ve liked you for a while, and I didn’t know how to say it,” you admitted, looking down at your shoes. “So I thought if I wrote the letter, I could control it. But then I accidentally gave it to you and everything is just— I don’t know It was never meant to reach you.”

Heeseung’s smile widened, and something about the way he looked at you made your stomach flip. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I kind of wish you’d just told me sooner.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his. “What?”

“I mean it,” he said, stepping a little closer. “I wasn’t expecting it to be you but now that I know… It’s kind of a relief. I’ve been wondering why you’ve been acting so weird around me.”

You blinked, taken aback. “I’ve been acting weird?”

Heeseung laughed softly, his eyes twinkling. “Yeah, you’ve been avoiding me like the plague. Always a little too nervous when we talk.”

You felt a wave of warmth rise to your cheeks. “I didn’t mean to… I just…”

He took another step forward, the distance between the two of you shrinking. “You don’t need to explain. I get it.” He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours with an almost teasing glint in them. “Honestly, I’ve kind of had a feeling you liked me. You just never said it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Wait… you knew?”

He grinned. “Not for sure, but I wasn’t completely blind. I just didn’t want to make assumptions.”

A laugh bubbled up from your chest, and you felt your nerves ease a little. The tension that had been building between the two of you melted away, replaced by something lighter, something more familiar.

“So… this doesn’t make things weird?” you asked cautiously, unsure if you were reading him right. The last thing you wanted was to make things uncomfortable.

Heeseung shook his head, his smile softening. “No. Actually, I’m kind of glad. Now I don’t have to turn anyone down because I like someone else.”

Your heart raced as he closed the gap between the two of you, standing only a few inches away. He looked down at the letter in his hand, then back at you, his expression serious but warm. “I don’t think I ever really realized how much I liked you until now. I think I’ve been too caught up in my own head to notice, but hearing this from you? Yeah, I think I feel the same.”

For a moment, everything seemed to pause — the sound of people passing by, the rustling of the leaves in the breeze, even the thumping of your own heartbeat — until Heeseung’s words sank in fully. The shock of it left you speechless, and the only thing you could manage was a soft, almost breathless, “Really?”

He chuckled, the sound light and comforting. “Really. I like you too, Cupid— I mean, Y/N.”

A smile spread across your face, and you couldn’t stop it. Your heart felt lighter than it had in days, as if a weight had been lifted off your chest. You had been so afraid of how things might turn out, but now, with Heeseung standing here in front of you, it felt like everything was falling into place.

Heeseung held the letter out to you, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “You know, you could’ve just told me. But I guess this works too.”

You took the letter from him, glancing down at the words you’d written once more, a smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe it was a bit dramatic. But… I was too scared to just say it. I didn’t want to mess things up.”

He reached for your hand, gently taking it in his. “You didn’t mess anything up, Cupid. You just… made everything clearer.”

And just like that, all the tension and uncertainty you’d been feeling seemed to dissolve. There was no more hiding, no more pretending. You were standing here, with Heeseung, both of you finally understanding the feelings that had been simmering for so long.

“So,” he said after a moment, his voice playful again, “How about we skip the letters next time and just go for a dinner date?”

You laughed, your heart full as you squeezed his hand. “That sounds perfect.”

Heeseung smiled, his gaze soft and filled with something genuine. “Good. Let’s not wait any longer, I really want some ramen.”

And with that, the two of you walked off together, the air between you light, and the promise of something more ahead.

BONUS 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Dating Heeseung felt like stepping into something familiar but entirely new at the same time. The comfort of your friendship was still there—the teasing, the ease, the way you could talk about anything and everything—but now there was something softer, sweeter, laced between every interaction.

Like right now.

It was late, the two of you curled up on your dorm room floor with a half-finished pizza between you, an old playlist humming softly from your phone. The world outside felt quiet, like this moment only belonged to the two of you. Heeseung was leaning against the bed, his legs stretched out, while you were sitting cross-legged beside him, picking at the crust of your pizza slice.

His hand, which had been resting casually near yours, suddenly slid closer, his fingers tracing the tips of yours absentmindedly. It was such a simple thing, but it sent a shiver up your spine nonetheless.

“So,” Heeseung started, voice slow and teasing. “How’s it feel? Finally dating the guy of your dreams?”

You rolled your eyes, already knowing where this was going. “You’re impossible.”

Heeseung grinned, leaning his head back against the bed. “No, but really. You had a crush on me for so long, and now look at us.” His fingers fully laced with yours now, his touch warm and effortless.

“I wouldn’t say I had a crush that long,” you mumbled, taking a sip of your drink to avoid looking at him.

“Are you kidding? You literally wrote me a love letter.”

Your face burned. “Okay, one letter—”

“One?” Heeseung gasped dramatically, sitting up and turning toward you. “So you’re telling me there aren’t, like, ten versions of that letter somewhere in your notes app?”

You choked. “There absolutely are not.”

“Oh my god.” He laughed, eyes gleaming with amusement. “There are. You rewrote it a bunch of times, didn’t you?”

You covered your face with your hands, groaning. “I am not having this conversation.”

Heeseung was grinning now, having way too much fun at your expense. He reached over, gently prying your hands from your face. “No, no, let’s talk about it. Tell me, how long did it take you to get the perfect wording? Did you, like, pace around your room dramatically?”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “For your information, I wasn’t that dramatic.”

Heeseung smirked. “Mhm. So you didn’t dramatically sigh and go, ‘No, this isn’t right, I need to capture his essence’?”

You picked up a stray piece of crust and chucked it at him. He dodged it easily, laughing as he caught your wrist, pulling you toward him slightly.

“You’re the worst,” you mumbled, but there was no real annoyance behind it.

Heeseung was still grinning, his fingers now playing with yours absentmindedly. “You love it.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “I really don’t.”

“You do,” he countered, tugging you even closer until you were practically pressed against his side. His voice dropped, softer now, almost teasing in a different way. “Did you mean everything you said in that letter?”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling like all the air had been sucked out of the room. “What if I did?”

Heeseung tilted his head, his gaze locked onto yours, and suddenly, the playful atmosphere melted into something else—something quieter, more intense.

“Then,” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles, “I’d tell you that I think about it a lot.”

You blinked. “You do?”

Heeseung nodded, his expression unusually serious now. “I mean, do you even realize how… nice it is to know someone felt that way about me? And not just anyone—you.” He exhaled, his lips curling into something softer, more affectionate. “I don’t think I ever told you, but when I first read it, before I even knew it was from you, I remember thinking… whoever wrote this really cares about me.”

Your heart was thudding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

“And then,” he continued, “when I found out it was you? It just… it all made sense.”

Your breath hitched slightly. “It did?”

Heeseung hummed in response.

“You’ve always been there,” he said softly. “I just didn’t realize how much I wanted you to be closer.”

You felt your throat tighten, emotion bubbling up in your chest, but before you could even think of a response, Heeseung leaned in, his forehead resting lightly against yours.

His eyes flickered to your lips for just a moment before meeting your gaze again, as if silently asking permission.

You didn’t need to think twice.

Closing the small distance between you, you kissed him.

It was soft, slow—like both of you were still memorizing the feeling. Heeseung sighed against your lips, his hand sliding to your jaw, tilting your face toward him just slightly.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and heart pounding, Heeseung smiled, his forehead still pressed to yours.

“So,” he murmured, eyes twinkling, “if I ask you nicely, do I get to read those other drafts of the letter?”

You groaned, shoving him away playfully. “Absolutely not.”

Heeseung only laughed, pulling you back into his arms with ease. “Fine, fine. But at least let me know—was I always this irresistible in them?”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “Shut up, Heeseung.”

He grinned, pressing another soft kiss to your temple. “Love you too.”

Series Taglist — next

@saphiranishimurashan @m1kkso @taesanoreohair @elairah @baribaaari @letwiiparkjay @jellyluv4eva @mbsnow @moontyun @manuosorioh

- if you weren’t tagged you need to fix your visibility!

[trevorsturnioloappreciator]

If You Want To

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

-matt and readers first date ends with her on top of him in his living room

cw: minors dni making out, dry humping, praise kink, pet names and use of “good girl”, a little dirty talk, no use of y/n, one mention of Matt knocking someone out and one mention of throw up and someone dying but its just a thought :D

a/n: continuation of Vigilante this one is very fluffy then it gets a lil smutty at the end, the blue text in the beginning are text messages, not many warnings this is pretty mild

also the title is from the beabadoobee song and the notes of cologne i described are versace’s dylan blue it’s one of my favs and gives Matt vibes

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚ ˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚ ˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

A day has passed since your unexpected meeting with Matt, the entire time since has consisted of you typing out a message, rereading it, deleting all of it then promptly throwing your phone away from you.

It was sort of silly how nervous you were to reach out when it had been his idea to give you his number, but you were worried maybe it was simply a courtesy, he could’ve thought you’d need someone to recount how you got home, or you may have choked on your vomit, died in your sleep and the police would need him to explain his connection.

Your spiraling thoughts make you take a deep breath, you knew you were a bit of an over-thinker but even you found this train of thought to be utterly ridiculous. That small realization might have been the reason you crossed your room to where your phone lay on the carpet.

The text was nothing special- hey, Matt, it’s me, from the club the other night :)

You’d rather start off boring as opposed to overbearing and maybe reveal too much of your personality, more than you already did asking the guy to carry you to bed like a baby. Shaking the thought from your head and tucking your red face into your hands, you think about how different you acted that night, not different like you were playing a character, different in the way that you weren’t playing a character.

Maybe it should’ve concerned you how easily he endeared himself to you, if it wasn’t for the context in which you two met and the way the rest of the night played out, you would think he was just some serial charmer, working you over before moving onto the next one.

Something about Matt made you feel comfortable enough to let go of the barriers you put up when you’re with anyone else. Just as you start to lose yourself in your thoughts about the brunette boy, you hear your phone chime. He replied, he replied and for some reason you’re entirely shocked that he would even text you back.

Hey there, it’s good to hear from you! How are you feeling?

Reading Matt’s text makes you smile. To think that he still cared enough to check up on you, his character showed even through the phone. You reply back to tell him you woke up feeling disoriented, but you did at least remember the events of the previous night.

You also can’t help but let him in on how sweet and thoughtful it was of him to leave his number, you don’t let him know this part but you had fallen asleep, hearing him lock your door behind him, with the lingering thought of how foolish it was that you hadn’t asked for a way to contact him. Matt’s reply is swift;

I have to admit, I left my number for my own selfish reasons. I would’ve been kicking myself for the rest of my life if that was the last time i saw you.

This message has your face burning, cheesy smile splitting your face, you can’t think of a reply fast enough as you fall heavily onto your bed and roll to your stomach. Kicking your feet behind you and staring at the words on your screen, you feel emboldened by his admission.

i was too nervous to tell you, but after you left i regretted not getting your number, was worried i wouldn’t see you again… would you maybe want to go on a date with me?

Now you’re really feeling nervous butterflies, your blush moving to your chest as you await his reply, tucking your face into your folded arms. When the beep of a notification goes off a couple of seconds later, you can’t get yourself to look.

The fear of rejection when you first texted him paled in comparison to how your palms sweat and heart raced thinking of his response. After a minute of stalling, you finally pick up your phone to read the response.

I’m relieved you didn’t take me leaving my number the wrong way, I thought you might take me for a creep. I would love to take you on a date :) When are you free next?

A soft giggle bubbles out of you, a giddy feeling rolling in your stomach as you bite the tip of your finger, thinking about Matt on the other end of the line. Flopping onto your back, phone laying on your chest, you wonder if he’s feeling the same way you are, maybe he’s out driving around or he could be sitting at a desk somewhere diverting his attention between work and you.

Checking the clock you see it’s nearing 8 PM, but it’s a Friday so you text back to tell Matt you’re free all day tomorrow, asking if that would work for him. When Matt texts you back all he says is;

I’ll pick you up at noon tomorrow?

˗ˋˏ𖤓ˎˊ˗

Waking up around 8:00 is pretty unfitting for you but you’re absolutely buzzing for your date. After Matt’s text setting the time of your meeting you both continued chatting for a bit, agreeing together to go out for lunch.

You were excited that you wouldn’t have to wait around until dinnertime like you usually would for a date, anyways you were infinitely more excited for this one than any date you’ve been on before.

Thoughts swirl of what you’ll wear and how Matt will look when he picks you up (address still logged in his Apple maps, so it was the obvious option) while you make a morning coffee. You wistfully move around your apartment, performing your morning routine as if you’re in a fairytale, head in the clouds.

As the time nears closer and the nerves once again set in, you take a long, hot shower, spending time on your skincare regime, way more time than you usually would. You even decide to crack open the expensive body oils and tinctures you keep for special occasions. Slipping on your silk robe and wringing the water from your hair, you move to your vanity, clicking on the lights around your mirror.

You apply a light smattering of makeup; curling your lashes, lining your eyes with a neutral shadow and finishing off with your favorite lipgloss, before drying and styling your hair. Slipping off your robe, you spread on a lightly scented lotion, rubbing your everyday fragrance oil from your wrist to the pulse points on your neck as well as your hips and shoulders.

Deciding to keep your outfit casual, but still elegant, you pull a mini, lace a-line dress off it’s hanger. Pairing it with a slightly cropped cardigan, buttoning it just once before slipping on some chunky socks with your favorite shoes. You top off the look with your everyday jewelry and a thin cream bow in your hair.

Checking your phone, you see a text from Matt letting you know he’s leaving now and will be arriving in the next twenty minutes, you open your purse throwing in your keys, wallet, and a small bag of makeup for touch ups, along with some other essentials you like to always have on hand. Straightening out your dress, taking a last look in the mirror and adding a light spray of perfume before gingerly walking to your apartment’s lobby to wait for your dates arrival.

As soon as Matt’s contact lights up your phone screen with a call all the nervous jitters return to you, being slightly forgotten with how busy you were to perfect your look and make sure you felt as confident as possible before leaving your front door, they’ve now come back with a vengeance.

You clear your throat before bringing the phone to your ear. “Hi, I’m in the lobby, are you outside?”, you’re pleased at how steady your voice comes out, trying not convey just how much you had been overthinking.

“Hello! I’m actually walking up to the door right now, I’ll see you soon, okay?”, his words bring a smile to your face, of course he’s not the kind of guy to make you search for his car in the parking lot. Before you can even reply you see Matt pulling open the door to your building, a blinding smile and a wave of his hand greeting you.

“Matt! Hi, it’s really good to see you… I can’t lie I was sort of nervous, seeing you I feel a lot better.” Pairing your words with a shy smile, you walk over to meet Matt as he walks over to you, he looks incredible wearing a thick black sweater, falling just above the waistline of his dark-wash jeans, paired with a black fiddler’s cap. The sleeves of his top are rolled slightly to show off his scatter of tattoos, the entire look leaves you blushing.

As you take one more timid step closer to him, he holds open his arms, confidently coming to stand right in front of you welcoming you into a hug. All the tension you felt melted away as you accept his invitation, moving to wrap your arms around his waist, his coming to lock around your shoulders.

“Hey there, ya look beautiful, no need to be nervous. ‘S really good seeing you too.”

Your smile never leaves your face as you keep your face nestled into his chest, surrounded by the scent of him. It was something you hadn’t remembered until it was presented to you again, his cologne, it was slightly oceanic. Notes of something airy, but deep, a subtle spice while still having a citrusy freshness to it.

Feeling the side of his face pressing down on top of your head and the way his right hand sits heavily in between your shoulder blades makes you forget that you’re supposed to move from this spot, that Matt didn’t come here just for a long hug and that you two were supposed to be heading on to continue your day.

Matt slightly steps back, keeping his hands on your shoulder as he smiles down to you, “Ready to go?” You nod up to him and reach up to take his hand off your shoulder and lacing your fingers through his, cheeks hurting from how hard you’re smiling. Matt’s own smile brightens at your gesture, taking one last long look over your figure before gesturing with his head for you to follow him out to the car.

You’re now both seated at a quaint diner you always walked by but never stopped at. The short drive from your apartment had been filled with Matt’s playlist (you noticed the title; Soft) humming quietly through the car, the both of you exchanging shy smiles and fleeting glances, and still your butterflies persisted; but they had calmed from the anxious variety to a subtle, exciting, murmur.

“So… what made you finally message me, I was sittin’ around all that time, waiting for ya.”, Matt’s words are said with an impish expression, jovial smile playing at his features. Once again you felt that pull, like you couldn’t lie to Matt if someone paid you, if it was anyone else this might have annoyed you but something about this boy, and the spell it seems he’s putting you under, does nothing to deter you.

“Honestly? I was kind of embarrassed about how we met, I mean you carried me to bed.” Your words are followed by a sheepish chuckle which Matt enthusiastically returns,

“C’mon you don’t have to be embarrassed about that, I actually happened to enjoy tucking you into bed.” his words are teasing but the smile he’s flashing you is warm and sincere.

Leaning onto his elbows on the table between you, getting a bit closer to your face, he looks down to your lips as he continues speaking, “Carrying you to your room might’ve been my favorite part, wouldn’t mind doing it again… Y’know, if you ever need me to.” As he says this, he reaches out to take your hand into his own, “I’m glad it was me that night, I- I just mean… I’m glad I know you now.”

Listening to his words, entranced by the way he speaks, with only one thought running through your mind. Like your mouth has a mind of its own, you blurt out; “Can I kiss you?”

The instant heat to your face and the change on his face, mouth dropping slightly, still with the same smug smile, makes you widen your eyes.

What is it about this guy that makes me want to embarrass myself?!?

“I-“, before you can get a word out, Matt’s eyes soften. Examining you for a second, he puts his free hand to your jaw, leaning just a bit closer to capture your lips in a deep kiss.

It was incredible. Slow and easy, it’s not the kind of kiss that leads to something else, he’s kissing you like it’s all he wanted, like he could just do this forever, his nose brushing against you as he moves with the way you do, tongue just barely brushing your lips as if he’s introducing you to the way he kisses, it’s making you melt.

The minute he pulls away, you feel yourself tilting forward to chase his lips. You, as well as Matt’s large hand on your cheek, stops your movement. The look in his eyes is heavy, his thumb strokes softly against the apple of your cheeks, never breaking eye contact with you while you feel your head get fuzzy, focusing on the way he licks his lips.

“Y-you’re really good at that…”, you giggle as you say it, no longer concerned with feeling stupid around him. Matt moves the hand on your cheek up to your hair, smoothing down where your locks had fallen into your face, beaming at your words.

“How’d you guess flattery works so well on me?”, he’s now moving to the other side of the booth to sit next to you. Matt doesn’t let go of your hand, just lets your locked fingers rest on his leg between you two. Smirking down at the way you’re blushing for him, he leans down to whisper closer to your ear, “Wanna get out of here?”

Turning your head to face him, your nose brushes his face he’s that close. “Yes, please…”, you nod and squeeze his hand lightly. Matt stands up and leads you out to his car, holding the door for you on your way out.

Matt asks if you’d like to go back to his place, saying it’s only fair since he got to see your bedroom already. Of course, you agree. Your lips are still tingling from his kiss, the hand he was previously holding yours with, is now squeezing your thigh as he drives. You thought the feelings you had for him before were intense, but now you almost feel like you’re gonna explode if you don’t get your lips back on his.

Pulling into Matt’s garage, he turns to meet your eyes, “We’re here, my brothers are home, you can meet ‘em if you’d like?”, you nod at his suggestion, “I would love to.” You can’t seem to wipe the smile from your face.

The second the door shuts behind you a voice calls out from the top of the stairs, “Matt? Is that you?”, to which Matt responds back affirmatively. “How’d the date go, bro?!”, the voice nears, then a head of shaggy hair and a backwards cap pops over the banister, looking down to you two.

“Oh-“, the boy says as he now takes notice of your presence as Matt leads you up the steps. “Sorry, hi, didn’t realize Matt had company.” the boys look changes from surprise to a cheeky smile, wiggling his eyebrows. Matt scoffs and turns to you shaking his head, before shooting a look up at his brother, “Jesus, Chris have a little decorum, dude.”, as you reach the living room and come face to face with who you now can identify as Chris, Matt moves his free hand between you two, “This is my brother, Chris, he wasn’t dropped or anything he’s just like that.”

This sentence spurs Chris into a raucous laughing fit, you can’t help but join as he breathlessly says; “God, you are funny, isn’t he funny?”, Matt is now rolling his eyes, but he can’t deny the smile stretching over his face as he gently tugs your hand, leading you to sit on the couch.

Chris is on one side of the sectional sitting heavily into the cushions, still trying to catch his breath. Matt stands in front of you where you’re perched politely on the edge of the seat, posture perfect, like you’re trying to make the best first impression.

“You can get comfortable, take your shoes off if you’d like, want anything to drink?”, his reassurance is helping ease your nerves, it’s not that you’re uncomfortable, you just always felt a little awkward when in a new place with new people. Shooting a thankful smile to Matt, you slide back in the sofa to slump further against the backrest. “Yes, please, uhm I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”

When Matt leaves your side to walk into the kitchen, you toe off your shoes, moving them to the side of the couch and out of the way. Chris sits up, resting his elbows on his knees and turns to look at you, as you tuck your leg under yourself, getting more comfy in your seat. “So how’d you guys meet? This kid doesn’t tell me anything.”

Laughing lightly you look over to Chris, “It’s sort of a crazy story, uh, he saw me outside that club downtown, uhm this guy was trying to get me to leave with him and your brother came up, knocked the guy out and ended up driving me home…”, you blush relaying the story.

Chris’ mouth drops open and he straightens up, looking behind you to where Matt is. “Okay so that’s why your knuckles were busted and you came home in the middle of the night, Batman! I’m telling you this guy is more tight-lipped than the secret service.”, he shakes his head in awe, “That’s insane, are you okay? Sounds pretty scary.”

You nod as you see Matt coming back to the couch, handing you a glass of water as he settles into the cushion right next to you, throwing his arm over the couch behind you. “Yes, yeah, everything’s fine now, just… probably shouldn’t go back to that club.”, you mumble out the last part and Matt moves his arm down to your shoulders pulling you closer into him.

“Nah, you should be able to go where you want to without freaks like that. Y’know our brother Nick really likes that place, if you ever need an escort. Plus he has the same face as Matt, but he’s way more vicious if you could believe it, that creep wouldn’t even look at you wrong.”

You smile at Chris’ words, finding out Matt’s brothers are just as kind and sweet as him warms your heart. “I guess you’re right, just, yeah it shook me up a lot. Maybe I’ll take you up on that,” you face your attention to Matt, who you noticed is already looking down at you, “Where is your older brother?”, the boy next to you shakes his head lightly, “‘M not quite sure, he’s always out, the total opposite of me.”, He finishes his sentence with a sheepish look.

Chris stands up while checking his phone, “Speaking of which, I’m actually about to bounce too, gonna get dinner with Sam.” Matt nods to Chris as he makes his way down the stairs, before refocusing his attention to you.

As soon as Chris is out of sight, you put your glass onto the table in front of you, with a new sense of confidence under Matt’s heady gaze, straightening up, you attach your lips to his, hand coming to rest on his knee thats bent on the couch between you. Your boldness must’ve caught Matt by surprise as he makes a soft gasping noise, instantly moving his hands to the sides of your neck and pulling you deeper into the kiss. This time it’s entirely more intense than your first kiss, which in comparison would be considered soft.

Matt’s kissing you like he’s hungry, like he has to kiss the air out of your lungs for himself. It’s messy and greedy, and you feel like you can’t keep up with his pace, but it’s turning you on in a way you’ve never been.

The feeling of being wanted so much feels so unfamiliar to you, the needy dominance he’s pouring into the kiss is making you feel lightheaded. Matt’s hands move from your neck down your back and to your thighs, he reaches under you and uses his grip to manhandle you into his lap.

Breaking from the kiss, you throw your head back, chest heaving as you try and suck in as much air as possible, before Matt is laying on his back, using one hand on the back of your neck and one on your waist to pull you on top of him and back to his mouth. A small whimper leaves you as you’re now sitting completely on top of him, chest pressed to his, and your panties are right on his belt buckle. You feel his hips rolling up into you, causing you to let out an embarrassingly loud moan, “Matt- Matt…”, he moves his lips to trail over your cheeks and jawline as you tuck your face into his neck, hiding the blazing blush over your face, “Fuck, so pretty…”, his voice is an octave deeper as his breath fans against your ear, his hands are all over you, rubbing up and down your waist, moving one hand to cup your jaw, pulling you back to look at him.

“So fuckin’ good, doll… Want you to grind on me, hm? Can you do that?”, your face is about two centimeters away from his, the way he’s looking up to you, his eyes pleading and your sparkly lipgloss shimmering on his lips and chin, you couldn’t possibly deny him.

Readjusting on his lap, moving to sit directly on his hard-on, causing Matt to let out the most delicious whine you’ve ever heard. “Mmm~ yes, yeah”, nodding frantically you sit up straight, hands on Matt’s chest as his lock tightly onto your hips, he doesn’t shift you, just holds on waiting for your move.

You start by circling your hips shyly, grinding down into him, feeling his jeans get tighter, it makes your whole body hot. Looking down, furrowing your brow and whimpering slightly at the sensation of him letting himself be used to get you off, “Fuck, Matt, so hot, feels so good, thank you~”, he groans deeply, squeezing your hips and bucking up into you. “Always so polite, huh? Good fucking girl, just how you need it, just take it from me, baby… Fuuuuck, got me so hard just from your lips….”

The way he talks to you makes your mind blank, hips stuttering as you feel yourself getting closer, “Can’t- Matt, ‘m gonna-“, your words cut off as you continue grinding down onto him, his hips still working under you, matching your rhythm even as it changes, Matt pulls you by the back of your head to kiss at your face, speaking in between each one, “‘S okay, baby, I want you to, want you to come undone, doing so good, f’me…~”

Your breathing picks up as you start to fist his shirt into your hands, hips speeding up as Matt grabs at you again, helping your movements by guiding you to grind deeper into him. “Uh huh, there ya go, sweetheart, are you gonna cum, baby? Just let go~ ‘s alright…”, his voice comes out right next to your ear as your face is tucked into his chest, muffling the strangled moans being pulled from you.

One last sharp thrust from Matt is what sends you over, letting out a loud whine, burying your head farther into him as you grip onto his sweater tighter. “Fuck yeah, good job, baby. Need ya to let it all out for me… thaat’s it… good girl~”, you feel one of Matt’s hands come to rest on the back of your head, soothing you.

Your noises don’t cease as Matt continues moving under you, your body going limp on top of him, “M-matt, too much, too good… please…”, the overstimulation on your sore clit makes you shake. “Okay okay, doll. You’re alright… Atta girl”, he smooths down your hair, patting your back as you come down from your orgasm.

You catch your breath while you cuddle into the side of his neck, your hands unfurl from his top as Matt keeps an arm wrapped around your back, sitting up with you still in his lap. “Y’okay, kid?”, he whispers into your ear, rubbing up and down the small of your back, using his left hand to push your hair off your face and tilting your chin up to look at him.

When you lock eyes with him, you give him a dazed look, smiling lazily. “M’okay, that… did- did you… finish?”, suddenly you start feeling shy again, which you know is stupid since you just rode this guy with all your clothes still on. Matt chuckles, his smile is sheepish as he speaks, “How could I not have, you’re a pro…” His teasing praise makes you laugh as you sit up a bit, playfully smacking his chest, “Stop.” you once again tuck into his chest, hiding your embarrassment.

“Okay, I’ll stop teasing. Seriously though you do not have to worry about me, ya looked so good, princess. I like seeing you all blissed out like that, you’re gorgeous.”, he leans into you, kissing from your cheek to your jaw, coming to kiss under your ear before whispering into it, “Can’t wait to see how pretty you look while I fuck you stupid.”, and you swear you can hear the smirk in his words.

part 3

[hyperions-light]

woAH I heard people are hating on Neve which is super cringe! Neve positivity time!!

I am in love with her because

1. She has an impeccable sense of fashion, she never misses, could make a paper bag look good

2. Docktown sucks so bad, like major Kirkwall vibes, and she loves it SO MUCH

3. If you give money to the people asking for it on the streets in Docktown, sometimes Neve will check in with them and make sure they have a place to stay it’s so sweet !!!

4. She cannot cook at all. Only eats fried fish. Boils her coffee. Zero domestic skills, completely perfect

5. She loves Bellara so much, she’s such a good friend ;-; She finds all her serials and helps her try to work out the mysteries! She gets her goat cheese! She comes to Cyrian’s funeral ;-;

6. If you wander around Docktown with her in your party you can stop and talk to her regular contacts and she will check in with them <3

7. She works alone because she’s scared that the people who try to help her will get hurt =(

8. She’s not afraid of Spite and she refuses to see Lucanis as a monster or treat him differently, even after he almost kills Illario.

9. She helps Taash figure out their gender stuff and she is so supportive and helpful <3

10. The WAY she talks to people who are hurting… like even though she’s so cynical, personally, she never tells people to give up on others, she’s never sarcastic or scathing when people are in pain. I took her on Taash’s final mission last time, and her voice ;-; She wanted to help so badly, but she couldn’t do anything. She reminded them that everyone was there for them. She loves SO much, so intensely.

11. She does not expect anyone to help her, and especially if you don’t save Minrathous she’s skeptical, but she’s so thankful for Rook’s help when they give it. She’s so fucking lonely, man! She thinks she has to do it all herself, because everyone else in the world and especially in Minrathous has shown her over and over that they don’t care about the people she loves, the people like HER. She’s not rich, she’s not famous or powerful or well-connected, she’s just using what she has to try and help people!

12. Manfred canonically doesn’t like nicknames, but he lets Neve call him ‘Fred

Neve Gallus, the woman you are <3

Edit: When I posted this someone immediately made some rude comment so here’s some more stuff to love about Neve Gallus!

13. She investigated the mystery of the candlehops and she was so serious about it! Just like the wisps in the Lighthouse!

14. When she was a kid she didn’t know what she wanted to be when she grew up and she HATED it lol

15. She got her best coat as a gift from a grateful client!

16. She keeps her tiny little apartment because they gave her a good deal on the rent and she doesn’t want to lose it

17. Halos keeps trying to give her fish for free but she insists on paying him <3

18. That joke she made to Lucanis about having an extra leg if he needed one lol

19. She misses the sound of the ocean, and sometimes when she wakes up in the Lighthouse she hears it for a moment

20. The way she explains everything so patiently to Taash about Tevinter and Docktown and the way status symbols work; the way she is always trying to use her skills to help the other members of the team!!

21. How she makes sure to check up on that kid whose father was doing demon summoning stuff and make sure that he’s alright ;-;

[chrollohearttags]

hard to breathe • portgas d. ace

seeing your ‘ex’ boyfriend ace one last time for closure..or so you thought. (based off of this song I’ve been obsessed with for months. It’s ‘old’ but I felt like it fit him and the vibe of this fic)

📝: black fem!reader, lots of relationship angst, modern au, heavy kissing, arguing + lots of dialogue, they’re slightly toxic ( y’all both ain’t shit I’m sorry 😭), riding, car sex, dirty talk, breeding, baby trapping (kinda), infidelity, hair pulling, pet names and daddy used, crying

wc: 4.1K

🎙️: I love writing my faves in a bunch of different scenarios, including ones that aren’t typical for their personality. This is in no way condoning toxicity, infidelity or anything of the sort. I just thought it would be a lil fun to experiment.

═✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿═══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

“Where are you right now?”

“I should be with you..”

“You know that’s not a good idea..”

“Yeah, but it’s what we both want..who cares if it’s wrong or not?”

3:30am

the deep drawl on the other end of the line luring you in with each word..it always had a tendency to do so, even when you wished you could just ignore it.

“Ace, what the hell do you want from me? Stop this.”

“C’mon, babe. It’s the truth. Don’t tell me you’re feeling guilty..what did I tell you? You’ve got to stop giving so much a damn about what other people think.”

“Go to hell. Not everyone can just mistreat people like it’s nothing.”

it was a shame honestly..this type of behavior was so unbecoming of both of you. A sweet girl who didn’t like to make much of a fuss for anyone or over anything. And him, the shining example of a stand up guy. Charming, kind, helpful, a little rough around the edges but what every man should strive to be. Yet here you were..whispering into the speaker of your phone as to not wake the one in the room next to you. A mere replacement to dull the ache in your heart caused by him and his stupidity. Meanwhile, he was chuckling in your ear. Seemingly teasing you because he could sense the tension in your shaky voice. He knew you’d bolt the second you heard a ruffle from the other room…but he also knew you’d never hang up. Knew you couldn’t resist answering in the first place and for damn sure, that you couldn’t resist his offer…

“I want to see you. I can be at your place in ten..”

“Are you out of your fucking mind? It’s late, Ace..and—“

“And what? Afraid your little boyfriend might wake up? I know it’s not because you don’t want to see me either.”

“You’re a piece of work, you know that? How dare you? You ended things, Ace. Not me. So why the fuck do you keep hitting me up?”

the line would fall silent for a moment..only the shallow echoes of your breath captured on the opposite end. That was until you’d hear a sigh and his voice once more. This time with a much less arrogant tone.

“Listen, (y/n)..I get it. I fucked up..it’s my fault things turned out this way and I’m sorry. I know I can’t go back or change anything that happened between us but I can try to make it right. Even if it means someone else gets to do what I couldn’t…I just wanted a chance to apologize. In person…which I should’ve been man enough to do from the jump.”

the things in question? Your relationship..a bond of three years to be exact and a union everyone was certain would end in the two of you walking down the aisle. However, life has a funny way of throwing even the biggest of curveballs. This man had all but swept you off your feet one night a few summers ago..both out with friends and enjoying the night life as young singles should. Drinking, laughing and having a blast. Even though you were a bit more on the reserved side, he still managed to spot you out of all the beautiful women in that club that night. And trust, a fair share of them had been vying for his attention. Even so, he couldn’t focus on anyone but you. That was one of Ace’s many wonderful qualities. In a room full of people, he managed to make you feel special..as if you were the only one there. Which wasn’t exactly intentional..his biggest issue was that he tried to be friendly, trying his hardest not to hurt anyone’s feelings anymore. He struggled with his anger quite a bit when he was younger, taking next to nothing to set him off and if he was in the midst of conversation with one person, it was best that no one else tried to interrupt. However, he realized that only caused trouble so he always tried to greet someone regardless. It just didn’t fare very well when it came to women. No girl wants someone that it seems everyone can access to!

But alas, you sat in that section next to him; nursing your drinks and exchanging pleasantries. He was so easy to talk to. He had this awkward yet charming charisma about him. Almost as if despite his good looks, he wasn’t the ‘ladies man’ you’d peg him to be off first glance. Somehow though, he managed to get your number and the rest was history. You began hanging out, going on a couple dates..even spending a weekend together after a bad storm trapped the two of you inside of his apartment. You really enjoyed being around him and as time passed, the bond grew stronger. Six months later, you came over to visit and found yourself greeted by smoke and an obviously frustrated Ace covered in soot..a result of him attempting to cook a dinner to formally ask you to be his girlfriend! It was those goofy yet sweet gestures that made you adore him.

perfectly flawed was the best way to describe him in your book…maybe he made mistakes and maybe he didn’t come from this picturesque family but he was a damn good guy doing his best to be better than what he was used to. He was a hard worker and willing to fight for what he wanted.

You cherished every moment you guys got to spend together and at one point, you even got matching tattoos of half hearts on each of your hands..however, things began to crumble in the once ideal world you had curated together.

going from laughing all the time to petty arguments that seemed intentional. From spending late nights together..making love until the sun shines over your bodies..now you were blowing up his phone to see where he was. You began to suspect that he was cheating. Perhaps somewhere with another woman. But you were wrong..truth be told, he was running.

running away from a healthy home and relationship because he didn’t know how to handle it. Didn’t know how to process being loved unconditionally without expecting the worst to happen…he never figured himself to be good enough for you to begin with but here you were..constantly showering him with affection; buying him gifts, making his favorite meals and even surprising him with massages after long, stressful days at work. You were everything he didn’t deserve! Hence why..he felt the need to blow it up before it could escalate. He couldn’t let you continue treating someone like him as if he were special. Three weeks later, he texted you asking to break up and to say you were devastated? Was an understatement. You loved this man so damned much, you had already begun looking at wedding dresses and contemplating baby names, figuring you guys were in this for the long run. But fairy tales don’t exist and you weren’t getting the story book ending. Instead, you were left heartbroken..trying to piece yourself back together and figure out what went wrong.

“Just one last time, that’s all I’m asking. I want to say I’m sorry and then I’m out of your hair for good, I promise. I won’t bother you ever again..”

a solid compromise, you supposed. Besides, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to look him in his eye and tell him to go fuck himself for how he fumbled you. He’d plead, calling your name until he got a response and finally:

“I’ll be in the lobby, call me when you get here.” Before disconnecting the line and releasing a heavy sigh. You fought back tears but in order for the next chapter of your life to begin, you had to finish this one. But the funny thing about some books…

is that they refused to remain closed!

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“..it’s nice to see you again. You look beautiful as always—“

“Enough of the small talk. State your business and make it quick.”

the two of you sat parked outside of your luxury apartment complex, downstairs in the desolate parking garage. Your arms folded across your chest in a defensive manner and his stretched across the steering wheel..that goofy snark on his face as he kissed his teeth. He knew you were fighting so hard to stand firm in your boundaries, something you struggled with in the past. And truthfully, he hated to disrupt that peace…but he was selfish, gluttonous even. He wasn’t always this nice guy everyone saw him as. He wanted to have his cake and eat it too and if that meant he’d leave your head a mess once again then so be it. A fucked up sentiment but the truth nonetheless..

“…damn. It's like that then? Fair enough..”

turning in his seat, Ace shifted and focused his attention directly on you. It was hard to maintain eye contact because how could he face you after such a betrayal? Even so, this was his bed he made and it was time to lie in it.

“The truth is...I was afraid. One day, you’d wake up and realize that I wasn’t what you thought I was. That I was broken and I didn’t have my shit together. It’s like no matter what I did in my life, I found a way to fuck it up. Make a mess of things..I’m not like you, (y/n). Honestly, what could you possibly see in me? Don’t you want someone who’s your equal?”

by this time, tears were beginning to swell in his eyes as well. The more he spoke, he realized that these feelings of insecurity were always within him. You promised yourself that you were just going to give him a piece of your mind, storm out and never have to see him again. But it was never that easy with this man.

you knew he was genuine and not just trying to victimize himself. He honestly felt like you could do so much better. But he also knew by the look in your eyes that you were not going to let him get away so easily.. You didn’t hate him, hell, you couldn’t even bring yourself to fully get angry with him for what he did. Looking down, Ace would begin to chuckle; a weird coping mechanism for him in times of stress and uttered the last words you wanted to hear.

“And after all this time, all the bullshit I put you through..you still love me, don’t you? That’s the only reason you’re still sitting here..the only reason you didn’t hang up. When you’re done with something, you never give it a second thought.” sitting cross armed, you’d begin to laugh. Not at his hurt but at the fact that for the first time in almost five years of knowing him, you saw him show genuine, raw emotion. You saw him finally let down his guard and be himself…as sad as it was, it was a bit cathartic.

“Wow…so you are capable of communicating your feelings and there isn’t a ten foot wall of bullshit in that head of yours.” Poking the side of his temple playfully..

“Of course I love you. I never stopped, you inconsiderate jackass. What did I ever do to you? That’s all I could ask myself. You keep talking about me deserving better and all of this bullshit..who gave you the right to decide what I wanted and what I deserve? Shouldn’t I have a say too? You left because it was easy, Ace. Instead of working through it with me, you ran because you don’t want anyone thinking you’re weak. That’s not how relationships work..we’re supposed to see each other at our worst, our best..good and bad days. If you feel insecure about anything, you did it to yourself because you were perfect to me and you know damn well I never made you feel anything less than.”

those words stung like none other. And honestly, no matter what he said, there wasn’t a good enough excuse for any of his behavior. You said it best..he was selfish, immature and didn’t think clearly. Ace had a knack for marching to the beat of his own drum and damn the consequences.

“..you’re right, (y/n). It’s my fault..and I can’t take any of it back…” suddenly, you’d feel his hand clutch the top of your own, intertwining your fingers as he stared you in the eye.

“..but I can try to fix it. Fix us..let me make this right. Please…if you’re happier with someone else, then there’s nothing I can do. But—“ In that moment, (y/n) had finally heard all that you could take. Reaching over the console, you’d clutch his face in your palm and shove your lips together. The sensation of that warm kiss sent a surge throughout your body..a spark you hadn’t felt since the day he left.

“Are you done? God, I swear you talk too damn much.” Prompting him to laugh as you held the side of his face. He was a little taken aback by your sudden dominance. Not knowing you to ever take control like this but he wasn’t mad about it one bit..

“..why’d you kiss me? What about your boyfriend?” A question as disrespectful as it was rhetorical.

“You’re as dumb as you are cute sometimes. You think I came all the way out here at three am to chit chat? Nut uh, you owe me..also, you’re a greedy bastard. No way you’re letting me go back in that apartment unless it’s with you." By this time, your hands were roaming his chest and your faces were only inches apart. His lips would curl into a sheepish grin before his palm snaked to the back of your neck, tugging your head towards him.

“..what can I say, babe? I’m just too damn stubborn..I always have to get my way.” And with that, you’d find your tongues joined together again. Twirling around one another with heavy whimpers mixed in. Suddenly, you’d find yourself crawling into the driver's seat and onto his lap. Just as you’d suspected, he’d worn those gray sweats you’d always loved to see him in and a black tank top to display his muscles, along with a newly acquired tattoo.

This man was not slick at all! Even so, his little tactic worked because all those memories of late nights and early mornings with him came rushing back. When you’d find yourself sneaking out on lunch breaks at work just to come eat his dick up or when he’d show up at your apartment around midnight because he’d work the closing shift again. With a bottle of wine and the intention of putting you through the mattress in every position after two glasses got you turned on. It was always exciting and spontaneous with Ace, something your ‘new man’ lacked. Slowly winding in his lap as you continued to make out, (y/n) caressed his torso..missing the familiar touch of his skin, taking in the scent of his cologne and immersing yourself in him. He’d run his thumbs across your throat, gently squeezing as you took his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You’re so beautiful..I missed you.” “Yeah? You missed me, baby?” Teasing him as you bounced your ass against his crotch, subtly twerking on his visible bulge. Caressing your gentle fingertips across his freshly shaven jawline. You could feel him growing harder underneath him and knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. Even kissing on his neck and licking on his jugular. “Mmmm..fuck. Pull that dress up and I’ll show you just how much.” Without a single bit of hesitation, you lifted the hem and allowed your bare cheeks and slit to graze him. Shuffling around underneath you, Ace slid his thumbs into the sides of those sweats, letting them pool around his waist. Meanwhile, he couldn’t stop marking your neck and lips with tender kisses..or apologizing for how stupid he was! Being here with you again brought back a flood of memories and emotions..ones that he never wanted to lose again. He needed this to be real once more. However, you weren’t much for talking right now..if he wanted to win his girl back, all you needed were actions.

“Why are you still talking? Just fuck the shit out of me before I grow a conscience and change my mind.” Your command being heard loud and clear; forcing him to grip your waist and balance you above that aching tip. Swollen red and seeping with precum, he was eager for you and that warm cunt was welcoming him in.

“Yes ma’am..whatever you say.” Following up his remark with a toothy smirk so you knew he was going to deliver and give you exactly what you were looking for. (Y/N) reclined against the steering wheel for a moment as he slowly infiltrated that entrance. That core drooling as he made home inside of you. Both of your heads fell backwards in a haze of pleasure…enjoying the all too familiar feeling of being one!

“Shiiit..why are so fucking tight? Oh my gosh..” those breathy moans and whines escaped his mouth the second he began thrusting. Not even two pumps in and he was trying to maintain his composure. With you though, he failed pretty quick. Reacclimating to the warmth that was your insides was going to be a challenge. Even so, he’d continue to guide you up and down on his shaft, letting that thick cock stretch open those wet folds.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Take this dick…just like that..” Meanwhile, (y/n)’s mouth fell ajar, overstimulated by the sensation already. You’d paw at his chest, holding onto him as he maneuvered you to his liking. Using your body like that of a flesh light. “’s so good. Missed this big fucking dick.” Hearing those words elicited another chuckle from Ace, prompting him to cradle the back of your neck in a dominant manner, pulling you close. “Yeah? Your little boyfriend ever fuck you like this?” Questioning through clenched teeth as he continued guiding your lower half..

those soft insides wrapping around him with each stroke. You’d then feel the tight clutch of his hand on the back of your head, tugging at those freshly styled wefts coursing down your back..he was aware of the minute fortune you spent each month to upkeep your beauty. From the thousand dollar hair appointments, nail salon visits and waxes..even so, he didn’t give a damn! Turning his gorgeous girl into a sloppy slut was his favorite pastime. A toothy grin on his face, watching your swollen tits bounce and drool seep from the corners of your mouth, along with the loud moans following suit.

“..I’ll take that as a no. You’re squeezing me like you haven’t come in ages, babe.” Those taunts harbored more truth than you’d care to admit. As shameful as it was to be cheating, you’d never be happy with someone who couldn’t give you a nut! Hypocritical as it was abhorrent, you too would never be satisfied until you got what you desired. And that desire was the guy slamming balls deep up inside of you at the moment. Pounding that sensitive little core..letting that fat mushroom tip split you open and begging for that sweet cunt to siphon him for every last drop of cum he had. “You’re fucking dripping..you must’ve needed this bad. Goddamn..” referring to the creamy release you had drizzling his cock. Making a mess of his lap. “Y—yeah..you’re the only one who can make me cream like this.” Cock drunk and giggling as he catapulted you up and down. The vehicle began to sway due to the heavy activity taking place and the windows also began to fog up as a result. That’s when you’d feel his palms colliding with your asscheeks, egging on your bouncing. It was in the midst of those heavy handed smacks that he’d begin pleading his remorse. Telling you how sorry he was for how he mistreated you. As cute as it was, you weren’t interested in any half assed apologies, but rather….

”…if you’re really sorry, you’ll nut in me. This is your pussy so act like it..” Uttering those words with a wide smile on your face whilst meeting his strokes with heavy bounces..nearly made Ace convulse. He loved when you spoke to him in such a domineering manner. You’d feel a sudden twitch inside of you and his hands guiding you as you slammed down on that cock. Your cheeks grazing the outer rim of the steering wheel..both of you so close to your peak that you’d claw into one another’s skin.

Covered in a sheen of sweat and saliva..begging the other to get you there and revealing all of your deepest confessions for one another..including the fact that he wanted you to be his forever and that you weren’t leaving this parking lot without him. You’d clearly chosen who you wanted to be with.

“…damn right it’s my pussy, princess. I don’t care who you bring home. You belong to me and I belong to you..no one else can come between that. Ever again.”

not to mention..you were begging for his cum yet again. You’d often divulge in the throes of pre-climatic bliss that you wanted to have his kid..be so full of his seed that there was no way you weren’t pregnant and Ace certainly had no objections to it. Maybe it was the sensation of being cream pied or the fact that you really wanted a family with him. Either way, he constantly fantasized about seeing you full with his seed; how adorable you’d look with a bump and he just couldn’t maintain his composure.

“Yes..please come in me. Want your baby—“ having to laugh again at how cute and pathetic you were becoming. But alas, there was no room for shame right now. You’d plead with your last breath to feel that womb stuffed again.

“That right, gorgeous? Does my pretty girl want me to get her pregnant?..” “Yes, nut in this fucking pussy, daddy. Please!” certainly a far cry from the headstrong woman who was yelling at him before. Now, you were reduced to a desperate little cumslut, pleading to be bred. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long. After experiencing your second orgasm in close succession, Ace would pin you down and force his cock up into you, going as fast as he could muster. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna take every drop. You’re going to have my baby and I’m going to take such good care of you both. Gonna marry you—be a better man this time around..” That soft flesh ricocheting as a result..loud grunts and curse words filling the car as he prepared to do the same to you.

“M fucking coming, babe! Hold still—shit!—“ in that moment, that orgasm would rip through his body and just as you requested, all of his warm seed coursed through your insides and didn’t stop for a solid two minutes..having not had a proper orgasm since you guys split up. He was still twitching inside of you, holding you to his chest as you both cried from how amazing it felt. Tears on both of your faces as a result of ecstasy.

“Damn, I guess I wasn’t the only one who needed that.” Teasing him amidst your cute giggles. Leaning up, (y/n) kissed the tip of his nose and caressed his cheek..unable to believe that you were here with him again. He’d gently stroke the side of your face as well..glaring at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

“I love you, (y/n)..so much. I never thought I’d get the chance to tell you that again. Feels so good.” And you shared his sentiment. He was the only one it ever felt genuine from and damn sure, the only guy you meant it to. Any guilt or shame had long since absolved and you knew this was exactly where you should’ve been. ”I love you too, Ace. I’m so glad you showed up.” It was going to be a long day, as you had some explaining to do. But for now..

“Shit..he’s calling me.”

“Ignore it..let me hold you a little bit longer, okay?”

you wanted to remain in this moment for as long as possible. After all, this is where you were happiest and there was no one who’d give you the high that he could.

[marauder-misprint]

Eek I’m the one that asked about requests, so excited you’re taking them!

My idea was fem!reader x whichever marauder you want (not Pete sorry not sorry) where the reader is flirty but not in a hitting on everyone and pickup lines type of way. It’s in a she’s very friendly, likes to give out compliments just cause she wanted to, and is just warm and open to people type of way.

Ngl im a sucker for some angst with a happy ending so if that somehow works with whatever idea you come up with that would be cool but no pressure!

I hope this sounds like something you’d wnjiy writing but again no pressure at all<3

I hope this has that kind of vibe you were going for! Thank you for being my first request - I'm very excited and very nervous for this. ♡

Sunshine Incarnate

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

1.8k words

cw: fluff, angst

“God, she’s such a fucking tease,” Sirius sighs, leaning back in a plush armchair in the library.

“Who is?” Remus asks, not looking up from his book.

“Her,” he answers, gesturing toward you. “Little Miss Sunshine herself.”

Remus’ gaze shoots up, first looking at Sirius and then at you. You were talking with some Ravenclaw boy, absorbed in the conversation and oblivious to the rest of the library.

“A tease?” Remus asks.

Sirius hums. “Whenever you talk to her, she gives you these eyes. Then she’ll give you some flirty comment and walk away. Fucking. Tease.”

“Don’t talk about her that way,” Remus growls, still not looking away from you.

“Remus, you’ve experienced what he’s talking about though, right?” Peter asks. “She sits next to you in Herbology.”

Remus has experienced the eyes that Sirius is describing. When you talked to someone, they had your entire attention. You were fully engaged. He’d also been on the receiving end of your compliments before as well; he replayed them in his head when he was feeling low. But Remus would be an idiot to ignore that you did this with everyone. 

“Oh my god, I love your hair like that!”

“That’s brilliant! You’re a genius.” 

“I haven’t read that book before. Is it any good?” “Yeah, It’s my favorite.” “Yeah? Tell me about it.”

It’s who you are. As Sirius had called you, you are Little Miss Sunshine. You brightened every room you entered and made everyone feel important. Remus didn’t think there was a single person in all of Hogwarts who didn’t like you. How could they? 

“Remus?” Peter repeats, tossing a crumpled piece of parchment at him.

“Huh? What?”

“Wormy asked you about Sunshine’s eyes and you zoned,” James says. He’s busy working on an essay that the rest of the group had already finished. 

“Of course. Yes. Although I think it’s called active listening,” Remus says, sounding more irritated than he intended. “Something you could work on,” he adds on in a grumble. 

“My ears work just fine, thank you very much,” Sirius says. 

Then his face lights up and he waves at you. You had briefly turned away from the Ravenclaw boy and Sirius’ wave caught your eye. You wave back, excuse yourself and make your way to the Gryffindors. 

“Hi!” you say cheerfully. “Remus, that sweater looks really soft.”

His face flushed at your words. He could barely mutter out a thanks. 

“What’re you working on?” you ask, standing next to Remus. You’re looking at the pages of the book he’s reading, hoping to see a title at the top of the pages but there’s nothing to go off of, not even a diagram to say if it was a Herbology or Charms book. 

“That damned Potions essay,” James answers. 

“Good thing you’re not too shabby in that class then,” you say with a smile. “Can’t be too difficult.”

James looks up from his essay to return your smile. “It’s not. Just annoying to do.”

“Annoying to do is my Divination dream journal!” you reply with a giggle. “Like I need a teacher knowing what happens in my subconscious.”

“I’d like to know what happens in your subconscious,” Sirius says, now leaning forward. 

You give him an eye roll. “Become a Divination tutor and maybe. Remus, did you do that Herbology worksheet yet?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I did. Yesterday.” 

“Shoot, I was hoping we could work on it together. You’re so much better at Herbology than I am.”

“Oh, it’s not too difficult,” he says, briefly looking up from his book to give you a smile.

You’re already looking at him with those eyes and a smile. Butterflies take flight in his stomach. He has to look away quickly, despite not wanting to. 

“Okay,” you say, bouncing on your toes. “I’ll see you later.”

As you walk away, Peter hits Remus with a roll of parchment.

“Are you daft?” he whispers, unsure if you’re out of earshot yet. “She was flirting with you.”

He shakes his head. “No, she wasn’t.”

“She wanted to work on Herbology homework with you.”

“Because we share the class? And I’m smart?”

“You’re daft,” James confirms.

The rest of the afternoon and into the evening, Remus is replaying the conversation. Had you been flirting with him? Actually flirting or being your kind self? Even if you were flirting with him, you’d certainly stop as soon as you found out that he was a werewolf. Sunshine incarnate could not be with someone who turns with the moon. He was Moony for goodness sake. But she had complimented both his sweater and Herbology skills in one conversation with only James also receiving a compliment. How had he earned two compliments over Sirius? With all of your kindness and Sirius’ natural charisma, you two usually bantered like an entertaining yet sickening tennis match. 

“You know, the things I would do to her if she said the word,” Sirius says, bringing Remus out of his thoughts. 

“Still on about Sunshine, are you?” James asks.

“Still on about Evans?” Sirius retorts.

“Would it kill you to shut up and stay away from her?” Remus snaps.

Sirius and James shoot him a confused look. He had been mostly quiet since leaving the library, but it was Remus. He just did that sometimes. 

“Stay away from her?” Sirius repeats. “From Madam Sunshine herself? Why would I do that?”

“She’s the sweetest,” James adds with a smirk. 

“Yeah, I know,” Remus grumbles. “She doesn’t need you assholes to bring her down.”

“I’m not bringing her down,” James says defensively.

“Just leave her out of your… fantasies.”

“Why?” Sirius presses.

“Just, it’s… it’s you,” Remus says, gesturing wildly. 

“Yeah, and?” Sirius asks, leaning forward toward Remus with narrowing eyes. 

“You’re messy.” Remus pauses. “We’re messy.”

“So we’re all staying away from her?” Peter asks. 

“I, uh, I guess so.” 

Remus couldn’t tell his three closest friends to stay away from her because they were messy and not include himself, possibly the messiest of the group. But, god, he wanted to be close to you. He wanted to hold you and be held by you. He wanted to kiss your perfect smile that was ever present on your perfect lips. He wanted to be the reason your gorgeous eyes lit up. He wanted you to look for him in the room. He wanted you to be his sunshine. 

Sirius shares a knowing look with James and Peter that Remus misses. Though he had tried to be subtle, his friends know when Remus is down bad, and he is for you. 

---

In Remus’ presence, you’re no longer a topic of discussion. The boys successfully steer all conversations away from you. Remus doesn’t think anything of it, assuming they actually listened to him and are staying away from you and all your perfectness. 

That is, until you walk over and sit next to Remus at lunch. You set your books down gently and give the boys a smile.

“That’s our cue to leave. See you in Dark Arts, Moony,” Sirius says with a grin. James and Peter follow him away from the table, leaving you alone with him. 

“That was… weird,” Remus mumbles, watching them leave before turning his attention back to you. 

He tries to hide the confusion on his face, but you see it anyway.

“Did you not… did you not ask me to practice nonverbal spells with you?”

Remus stares at you blankly. “No?”

You pull out a piece of parchment and hand it to him.

“I got this at breakfast.”

It was a note, in Sirius’ handwriting no less, asking you to meet at lunch to practice spells. When he looks up from the note, you are biting your lip with a hopeful look on your face. 

“Even if it’s not from you, would you mind practicing? I’m rubbish at them and, well, you’re great at everything.” 

Remus feels his face heat at the compliment. 

“You’re not rubbish at them.”

“No, I really am! I try them all the time and they never work! I’ve tried to levitate notes to you in Transfiguration and the stupid notes never lift more than a centimeter off the desk!” you ramble.

“Notes… to me?” 

It’s your turn to blush. You had never successfully passed a note to him. The notes that never made it to him often had compliments on them; the most recent had been to ask him to Hogsmeade. But when you continuous failed to get them to him, you had taken that as a sign from the universe that it wasn’t meant to be, but you weren’t one to give up easily. Maybe you were misreading the signs and you needed to go to him for help. So when you received the note from fake Remus, you were over the moon. 

“Oh, yeah. Just little comments about lessons. Nothing too important,” you lie. 

“You were trying to give me notes…” Remus mutters, still in disbelief that you were writing notes to him in the first place, even if they were ‘little comments.’

“Yes?”

You’re not sure what gives you the boldness, but you dig through your bag again and pull out some of the notes. You’re not sure why you kept them, but you did. 

“Okay, little comments, yes. About the lessons, not really.”

You hold out one for him to take.

You mastered teacup to gerbil quickly. You’re amazing!

“That, uh, that should be the first one.”

His hands are shaking as he reads it over and over. 

“You kept them?”

You nod, a little unsure. He reaches out and takes the rest from your hands. You feel your blush grow as he reads each other. It’s only a slight comfort that his blush is also increasing with each note. 

He looks up at you with a curious expression that’s topped with hopeful eyes.

“You were going to ask me to Hogsmeade?”

You open your mouth to speak but words don’t come out. You nod.

“If the offer still stands, I’d, uh, I’d love you. I’d love to. Ahem. I’d love to go to Hogsmeade with you.”

You’re certain your face is as red as his. 

“This weekend then?”

“Yeah,” he breathes. 

You lean in and kiss his cheek, your own boldness surprising you yet again.

“We can, erm, work on nonverbals later. I’ll see you later, Remus.” 

He watches you leave the Great Hall in a hurry. His hand slowly comes up to touch the spot where you had kissed him. Maybe, just maybe, you had been flirting with him. 

---

“How did that go, Moony?”

“You are bastards. All of you.”

“How did it go?”

“She kissed me,” he says, still blushing furiously.

“I told you!” Sirius cheers. “I told you he was projecting.”

“Projecting?”

“Mate, you called us messy. I mean, yeah, we are, but it’s your tell.”

[wonderjanga]

Marvel and Zatanna

I think Marvel and Zatanna would have a wonderful funny haha father/brother-sister/daughter duo. Magic and Magic. Why not?

Zatanna and Marvel: *both talking*

Zatanna: “I’m just missing this one ingredient for a spell! Hyancinth nectar.”

Marvel: “Hyancinth nectar?” *reaches into pocket dimension to see if he has any before coming up short* “I don’t seem to have any. Well, I’m sure you could find some at the upcoming farmers market in Fawcett.” *shrugs*

Zatanna: “Farmer’s market? Is it like a magical farmers market…?”

Marvel: “Yes actually! I could take you with me if you wanted.”

Zatanna: *thinks that being with the Champion of Magic might help her get better deals on stuff* “I’ll take you up on that!”

The Day of the Farmer’s Market…

Zatanna: “Oh! I’ve been looking for Wrackwort Bulbs!” *trades vendor for them*

Marvel: *holding two huge bags with smaller bags full of ingredients in them*

Zatanna: *puts a bag of Wrackwort Bulbs into one of the bigger bags*

Marvel: “I thought you just wanted Hyancinth Nectar?”

Zatanna: “I can’t add a few more things to my cart on the way?”

Marvel: “I’m not saying you can’t but…”

Zatanna: “But nothing.” *does a little levitation spell to float up and pat his head before spinning around still floating* “Emetic Wax! I need some of that too!”

Marvel: *pulls her back down by the back of her shirt before muttering a counterspell to make her stop levitating*

Zatanna: *jogs over to the vendor selling the wax*

Marvel: *follows after her just happy to see her happy*

or

Zatanna: *making Marvel try on a bunch of outfits* “Work it!”

Marvel: *is in fact, albeit awkwardly, working it*

Zatanna: *chuckling* “I don’t even see why you agreed to this.”

Marvel: *shrugs*

Zatanna: *magics another outfit onto him* “Well I gotta thank you. I didn’t get much of this as a kid.”

Marvel: “Why didn’t you get much of it? You didn’t care for it or something?”

Zatanna: “Uhm… Not exactly.” *unsure whether she should tell Marvel* “When I was younger, my dad uh… had an alcohol problem. By the time he sobered up, I was too old for this stuff.” *awkward*

Marvel: *also awkward* “Oh. I’m sorry.”

Zatanna: “It’s fine. It’s not like I hate my dad for it. He was just going through a tough time. I still love him. I honestly don’t know why you’re apologizing. It’s not like it’s your fault.”

Marvel: *stares for a bit* You know, I’m fine doing this with you even if you’re too old right? I uh… never really got to do stuff like this with my parents either. Maybe I did, but I don’t remember. When I was 8, they died.” *awkwardly pauses cause he doesn’t know whether it was a good idea to share that or not* “But, it’s just, since I didn’t get to do it, and you didn’t get to either, I want to. Cause everyone has to play dress up with someone else at least once in their life, right? So, yeah. I’m fine doing kiddie stuff like this.” *extremely awkward as he says this*

Zatanna: *processing all that information* “I uh… I see.” *magics Marvel into another outfit*

Marvel: “A tiger onesie?” *looks down at the outfit*

Zatanna: *while he’s looking away, rubs at her eyes to hide any tears* “Yeah, a tiger onesie. It fits you.”

Marvel: *now confused* “It does?”

Zatanna: “Yeah, you give off the vibes.”

or

A video of a beam almost falling on the audience of one of Zatanna’s shows goes viral.

Marvel: “Wait, so that wasn’t planned?”

Zatanna: “Nope.”

Marvel: “And you just saved them like that…?You’re amazing!”

Zatanna: *preens at the praise* “I know.”

Marvel: “No, Zatanna, I’m being super serious! You’re an awesome hero.” *blinding smile*

I don’t know why but I love it whenever a person a little more than half the size of another person bullies the bigger person. Also, as for the alcoholic thing, it wasn’t really mentioned on the wiki whether or not it affected her badly, but she not only had her dad as her only parent, but he was an alcoholic. It could’ve affected her.

[lalunanymph]

MOONLIT DREAM

SUMMARY a budding jade aficionado receives a personal lesson from her lover

WARNINGS established relationship, outdoor sex, boat!sex, blasphemy, sensory deprivation (use of blindfolds), sensory play (with a brush), dirty talk, petnames (little love, little one), soft!zayne, orgasm control, edging, begging, fingering, dirty talk, marking, pulling out (zayne cums in his own hand cause he's a mf gentleman like that), astra hate, allusions to theories of zayne's myth, mdni, 18+

DAWN SAYS FIRST ONE IS HEREEE istg this event has me by the THROAT I know it isn't very canon-compliant but I wanted to do something based on the vibes I got from the cards so I hope you all enjoy this! I will eventually cross-post this to a03 so if you want to follow me there, it's under the same username! <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── SYLUS ⊱ XAVIER ⊱ RAFAYEL

The art of jade carving was slowly dying out.

Touted as a precious stone the color of rich grass, its value was placed not in its glossy, green finish, but on the weight of meaning it carried.

To gift someone a jade pendant meant you wished luck, prosperity and success on them. Mothers would often lend their sons their necklaces hidden in the lapels of their hanfu as they took their official tests, while a groom’s parents would adorn their new daughter-in-law with jade jewelry to bestow upon the newlywed couple blessings of marital bliss and harmony. 

On nights like these, you liked to wander these grand, opulent hallways, lost in thought as the glimmering green gems twinkled from ceilings, pillars and statues.

The moon was bright tonight as you caught sight of Zayne, a royal court physician your family had connections to. 

(And who was also, your secret-not-so-secret lover). 

He was struggling under the weight of his documents, and you rushed forward to greet him, calling out his name. 

“Y/N—there you are,” he gave you a small smile, warmth twinkling behind his green eyes. The sheen of them reminded you of how jade shone. “What’re you doing up so late? The moon is bright tonight.”

You flushed, gathering yourself before you divulge your deepest thoughts to him. “I was up till yesterday night trying to read up on jade carving. Did you know the practice is diminishing?”

Zayne, though not much of a man of the arts, could concede on your astute observation. “I see,” he teased, “And you thought that by devouring clips of them, you might have a chance to save this dying art?” 

Used to his teasing, you huffed and wagged your finger. “At least I am dedicated to a cause that matters. Tell me, Mr. Zayne, don’t you have a passion you want to protect, too?”

At your question, his eyes softened.

“Perhaps.” He glanced at the number of documents in his hand. “I have some summons to work on. Maybe you might like to keep me company and tell me all about your discoveries of jade carving while I work?”

The offer sounded too good to resist. You followed him down the hallway and into the vacant space—an unoccupied room linking right to the court library. It was connected by a veranda, where the man-made lake ran around it, a shallow body of water meant for aesthetic purposes commissioned by the emperor himself. A pile of scrolls laid on the shiny, mahogany desk, and you realized too late that you were in his private office.

“Zayne—”

While the idea of spending more time with him was intriguing, you couldn't risk a court scandal by being seen with a man at such late hours. He didn’t stop you when you stood, though the look in his eyes held you back from leaving too soon.

“It is fine, Y/N. I have checked for guards and there are none at this hour. Besides, aren’t we both past the boundaries of such careless affection?”

He grabbed your hand, and you let him tug you closer. Sitting in his embrace, you relished in the secrecy of your meetings under the moon, this hidden fondness belonging only to you two. 

“I wish to hold you forever like this.” Zayne was not someone who waxed lyrical about his feelings, but tonight felt different.

Far more intimate.

His touch echoed with shades of absolute need when he tilted your face up, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“I have a surprise for you,” he whispered.

Intrigued, you let him take your hand, stepping out of the balcony and onto the connected veranda. You hadn’t immediately noticed a line of candles sat by the edge of the water, too caught up in his embrace. Zayne led you right to the makeshift dock where an ornate boat rocked in the man-made lake, stepping on its deck first before holding out a hand to you. 

Taking his familiar, calloused palm in yours, you lost your footing for a split second, tumbling right into his arms. 

“Oh—”

“I got you,” he murmured, righting you on your slippered-feet.

Zayne made sure you were alright and tightened his hand on yours, taking you into the anterior single cabin, where a smaller version of his desk stood, the light of the moon illuminating his warm cheeks.

“I thought we could spend some time here—away from any prying eyes.”

A smile spread across your face, delighting at this romantic and secluded initiative.

“I see. So, you have me trapped right in your hands while I ramble on about jade carving?”

You should have known your lover always had a special trick up his sleeve. He wasn’t called the brightest official without his uncanny knack for deciphering what it is people around him truly wanted.

“No.” 

He gestured for you to sit on the plush cushions, and removed a box from the side of the hull, opening it. Bringing out paint brushes, scrolls, newly minted jade pendants and glass bowls which he filled with water. Zayne let you touch them, enamored by your bright gaze and excitement.

"You... remembered?"

He smiled. "Of course, I did."

Touching your cheek, he said, "When your lover develops a fixation on something, you do your best to try and satisfy her."

Pleased and slightly flattered, you turned your attention to the rows of jade waiting for you.

“Are we sending our wishes to be carved on these pendants?” 

Fondly, he nodded.

“Yes. I thought this would be a great step in our courtship—to have our wishes bestowed on these jade jewels for us to wear. A memento of our love.”

You flashed him a smile so bright, it could rival the moon up above.

Sitting down next to him, Zayne watched as you dipped your brush in ink, slowly filling up the scroll with your earthly desires which the jade carver would put onto these pendants. 

I wish for Zayne to always be healthy and happy, you fluidly etched onto the paper. I wish for him to find success in court. To grow in his filial piety and strength. May he always be kind, courteous and brave.

Glancing at him, you were surprised to find him dozing off, elbow perched on the mahogany desk, head laid resting against a closed palm. The lights from the palace veranda and the moon in the sky played with the shadows on his face, making him look younger than his years of twenty-seven. The innocent curve of his brow, the slight parting of his thin lips, stirred a desire within you. 

A need to push him and see how much he could take before he broke.

Grinning to yourself, you picked up the prep calligraphy brush, still dripping with cool water, and gently ran the bristles over his lower lip. Zayne grunted in his doze, but didn’t stir, exhausted from his duties to pay your foolery any mind. You smirked, wondering if he would feel it when you dragged the brush down his jaw.

Still—nothing. 

Besides a furrow in his brow, Zayne remained locked in his slumber. A part of you wondered if the sensation felt akin to cool wind brushing his skin, and you decided to up the ante. 

Taking the brush down to his neck, this time you managed to garner a sweet, sweet visceral reaction from him. 

Zayne’s nose twitched, a sound of consternation and… desire?... leaving his lips. 

He sighed. You paused.

Tucking your lower lip in between your teeth, you took the brush now to the hollow dip of his collarbones. Another sigh, another baited breath.

But, he didn’t open his eyes.

Growing bolder, you glided the brush down the groove of his toned chest, mesmerized by the silvery trail of water left behind—a delicate mark of your teasing on his pale skin.

A part of you wanted to see what his entire body would look like ‘painted’ with these slick marks; your curiosity mingled with a stirring desire to have him completely under your spell. 

As you dragged the damp brush down to his chest, intent on finishing up your canvas for the night, you felt the gentle grasp of his hand around your wrist, stopping your descent from going any lower.

“I see I woke up at the wrong time,” he teased.

Whatever remained of his nightly exhaustion dissipated, his breathtaking green eyes gauging your reaction with the ghost of a smirk tugging the corners of his mouth. 

Zayne’s skin and lips were tingling from the effects of your little ‘painting session’.

As much as the hunger inside of him was roaring to overcome you, he wanted to see what you would do next; how else you would surprise him. 

Deciding to tease him even more, you dropped the calligraphy brush, hearing it roll onto the barge’s floor somewhere under the desk. You slid your fingers across his hand, feeling his touch gliding on your open palm.

“Carving jade requires a clear mind,” you murmured, your fingertips breaching the hem of his ornate cuffs, touching the warm skin of his wrist underneath the clothes. “This is a test.”

Zayne was not expecting you to tighten your grip on his wrist, or for you to boldly drag him on top of you. 

His gasp brushed the tender shell of your ear, the heat of his body on top of yours made you shiver.

“How bold you are, little one,” your lover murmured, settling on his elbow to gaze down at you, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “You are quite commendable indeed—getting a court official into such a… compromising position.”

The moon glowed, the broadness of his shoulders eclipsing its luminescent rays from fully spilling onto both your tangled bodies.

“I merely wanted to share my passions with a certain court official, but it appears he found the entire ordeal boring,” you quipped back, throwing in an eye roll for added effect. 

His thin lips twitched in amusement, the hand on your cheek moving down to briefly cup your jaw. “Alright, then. Why don’t we make your little session a bit more interesting for me?” 

Before you could ask, he took the discarded brush you had dropped, dipping it in a pot of water. Dabbing off the excess, he touched the firm tip to your cheek, his jade green eyes darkening with an unnamed emotion.

“You speak while I simply… listen... and return your little painting favor. Whoever can retain their composure without breaking first will win a month’s worth of rabbit candy.”

Not one to refute his games or back down from a dare, you raised a brow. “Are you questioning my resolve, Mr. Zayne?” 

He forced back a huff of laughter, trying to retain his equanimity. 

(Which was steadily chipping away the more you provoked him). 

Zayne hummed. “I do not question it. I want to test it.”

As he spoke, he glided the cool paintbrush from your cheek to jaw. “And to make this more fun for me since I have not heard of the intricacies of jade carving, I want to test your knowledge further with this—”

From his lapels, he removed a silk ribbon, one which you recognized to wrap up mooncake boxes. 

Flushing warmly from the implications of what he wanted to do next, you attempted to keep your voice steady, but failed.

“Playing dirty, Mr. Zayne? I never mistook you for such a bad sport.”

A glimmer of mischief ignited in his eyes, and he placed the paintbrush down next to your neck, coaxing you to raise your head so he could wrap the soft strip around your eyes.

“You are always testing my resolve. You should know I always repay the favor.” 

Despite the intensity of his request, a playful intimacy remained between the two of you. Whatever happened, you always trusted Zayne to put your wellbeing and dignity above everything else.

“Alright.” 

You raised your head, letting him tie the makeshift blindfold around your eyes. 

Hidden in darkness, you could only rely on your senses of touch and hearing to guide you on what was happening. You heard the rustle of the paintbrush picked up again by your ear, felt the damp tip on your jaw. Zayne glided the brush down the side of your neck, secretly enjoying your quiet gasp of surprise.

“Now, little one,” he hummed. “Tell me all about the intricacies of jade carving since you know them so very well.”

Your heart was pounding, but you managed to keep your calm when you recited the first fact to pop into your mind. 

“U-um… j-jades were known as the ‘essence of heaven and earth’.” Your gasp melted into a stifled moan at the sensation of his warm lips chasing after the cool trickles of water left behind.

“I see. Enlightening. Do tell me more.”

His husky voice brushed the shell of your ear, and your stomach tightened in knots. 

Unfair. Zayne was unfairly using your weakness against you.

He knew you were always sensitive to his kisses; his touch. 

A bead of clear water trickles down your neck, and you struggle to think of the next fact as his lips follow the winding trail the liquid carved along your skin, each kiss soft and deliberate.

“Jade has a sharp resonance and that is why it was often used as chimes—mhm.”

He nuzzled his nose into your pulse point, inhaling the sweet scent of jasmine from your skin. 

“I am listening,” he reassured, and you could imagine the smirk playing on his lips. “And I am interested. What else is there for me to learn about jade, little one?”

As you fought hard to recall another fact, your hands instinctively tightened, crumpling the soft material of his hanfu in your grasp. 

“With n-new drilling tools, jade can now be made in larger scales of production—”

The sensation of bristles on your skin interrupted your train of thought. Nothing could have prepared you for the sting of his teeth biting down on your neck. Zayne’s heated breath caressed your sensitive throat, leaving goosebumps on your skin in their wake. 

“I think I have quite the knowledgeable grasp on this matter, little one.”

In a swift yet gentle motion, the blindfold melted off your eyes, and you caught Zayne gazing down at you affectionately. 

The damp brush and these damn games were discarded to the side in favor of him dragging you onto his lap, letting you sit astride him. 

Warmth suffused across your cheeks, and your entire body was tingling from the sensation of the rough bristles mingling with the contrasting tenderness of his lips on your skin. You felt the tension tightening in your belly, tensing the muscles on your thighs wrapped on either side of his waist.

Zayne took this opportunity to roam his hands across your back, down your sides—feeling the smoothness of your robe underneath his touch; the way you shivered as if caught in a chill.

“Are you afraid?” 

His gentle whisper was followed by a sweet kiss on your temple.

Yearning sparked from the tips of your fingers down to your toes.

You shook your head.

“No, Zayne.” 

Smiling to himself, Zayne cradled your head in his hands, nudging you further up the plush pillows he prepared for tonight. The sight of you, all sprawled out with the warm palace lights and the shining moon illuminating your flushed cheeks, looking far too ravishing for your own good filled his mind with a light-headed daze.

He couldn’t believe you were here, that you were his. 

A low grumble resonated from his chest, and he pressed his lips to your ear, delighting in your little shiver in response.

“You have to forgive me, little one. I cannot control myself when I am with you.”

His traced circles onto your cheek with his thumb, absorbing your hitched breath, the way your body shifted under his broader, muscular one. 

As he spoke, he planted a tender kiss on your cheek. 

“It is not my fault that someone gets distracted easily when carving intricate patterns… and appreciating the moon.” 

He pressed another soft kiss to your temple, worshiping you with his entire soul. 

Never mind that the bright lunar rays were burning into his skin. Or, he felt the unseeing eye studying his every move. 

All that mattered to him in this instant was you—your sounds, your sighs, the look of desire and love in your eyes. 

It was everything and more that Zayne could wish on his fallen luck. He wanted nothing more than to claim you under his god’s eye, defying logic and order to demonstrate his undying love for you. 

“Are you feeling what I am feeling as well, my little love?”

He looked to you for confirmation.

Consent.

You nodded wordlessly, threading your fingers through his hair.

“Yes, Zayne. I feel it.”

That was all the permission he needed. Zayne leaned in and captured your lips in a heated kiss, his desire for you pouring into every movement. Every breath. 

He needed to make you his completely; needed to love you with his entire being. 

His lips touched your ear again, his scratchy whisper igniting your desires. His nimble fingers, deft from years of practiced writing and studies, twined with yours, holding you impossibly close.

Another tender kiss right on your cheek. “Then we will just have to blame the craftsman… and the moon.”

Careful yet firm hands shed your robes from your body, the rocking boat adding momentum to your every movement. Zayne took his time to undress you, marveling as inches of flawless, moon-soaked skin appeared before his eyes. Taking his time to run his fingers over your body, he breathed you in, his eyes fluttering to half-mast as he savored this moment of peace. 

When your body was fully bared to him, he sucked in a deep breath.

“Beautiful,” he mumbled.

Zayne’s hands roamed your body with a newfound possessiveness, his expression a mix of tender yearning.

The sight itself was too much for you to bear; the shame, lust, and need coalescing together to bring you to your knees. 

You tugged him closer, unable to stand another minute apart from him. 

He fell right into your embrace, your eager hands undoing the loop of his hanfu, baring his full chest, dragging it down his shoulders. 

The act of undressing one another, meant for the marital doings of a husband and wife, felt natural when it came to Zayne.

Such love shared between the two of you sprung forth like a fountain, effortless in cascading your bodies in ebbs and flows. Zayne kissed you like you would disappear if he opened his eyes, his lips soft and tender against yours.

It made your heart full to bursting, overwhelmed by the love of it all.

Taking the lead, Zayne helped to reposition you on his lap, this new angle allowing you to control what came next.

The moon was his unwilling accomplice, painting you in the most alluring light. Its rays shone brightly, illuminating the brightness of your hair, your skin.

You gleamed like treasured jade right in his arms, and Zayne would never let you go again. Not in this life, or the next.

You were his to treasure, to hold. To cherish and love—his obedience to Astra be damned.

He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, bringing you into his arms; feeling you lift your hips and gingerly take him. The tightness of you, enveloping him slowly, drove him mad with need.

But, Zayne reined his lust in, focused on your pleasure. He would never do anything to hurt you; all he desired for was to see you happy. 

You are doing so well, he praised, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks. Good girl. That’s it—go on and make yourself feel good.

Emboldened by his praise, you braced your hands on his chest, wincing at the stretch. 

It wasn’t the first time you had taken him, your months of courtship blooming into a rapid need of each other.

But, it was the first time you were doing it so publicly, boldly declaring your claim on one another.

If anyone walked by, word would soon reach the wrong people of this escapade. But, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

You wanted Zayne, needed him like you needed air.

He was as enamored as you were, watching you take him. 

You were a vision above him, a moonlit dream he could only wish to hold onto for the rest of his life.

“You truly are the most beautiful sight I have ever seen,” he breathed, placing his palm on your cheek. The melted look of devotion in his eyes was second to how secure and safe he made you feel.

With Zayne, nothing was closed off or too much—everything was in order, right and sweet as it was meant to be.

Your head lolled back, the pleasure taking center stage to this act of consummation burning your veins.

“Zayne… you feel so good…”

The sound of his lover’s praise drove him into a frenzy, and he let his immaculate self-restraint slip; giving into the vulnerability. 

Zayne’s beautiful emerald eyes glimmered, taking in the heavenly sight of your smooth skin, your hard nipples carving a silhouette of erotic desire in the barely-lit night. 

He leaned up to gently run his tongue over them, trailing goosebumps across your chest. You moaned, lost in the haze of the pleasure, putty to his whims.

“I cannot believe you all mine…” His voice broke, trailing off into awe. 

Dedicated to showing you his entire devotion, Zayne let his innermost thoughts flow freely. 

“The way the moon shines upon you… the luster of your hair in the night… gods above, you feel like a fever dream, my love.”

A soft whimper left your kiss-swollen lips. Zayne ran his thumb over your lower lip. 

“Do you feel it?” His breath is heavy and desire-filled.

He could not wait to see you coming undone for him.

“How much do I belong to you?” Infused with yearning, his words made you tremble. “I am all yours tonight. I want to give you everything you desire.”

Zayne…

He grunted, the sound of his name on your lips a glimpse of heaven opening up.

Sweat beaded on his brow, a droplet trailing from between your breasts to roll down towards where you were connected.

Zayne halted its path with his tongue, lapping at it gently. He ran his tongue over the curve of your jaw, across your pulse point—stopping to nip and suck the tender flesh until he was sure the marks of his affection would bloom upon your skin.

The idea of anyone taking one look at you and immediately deducing you belonged to him drove him wild with desire.

He wanted to mark you, inside and out.

You belonged to him and no one else.

Not to the world, not to your people or your books.

But, to him.

And he belonged to you. 

The moon rays seemed to blister his skin, an angry curse waiting to consume him whole. But, Zayne didn’t care for the warning, making a mockery of his god by claiming his beloved right under His light.

He brought you in for a tender kiss, just as your walls shuddered around him. 

The romantic atmosphere, the way his tender gaze bore into your soul… was all too much for you to hold back.

But, before you could come undone, Zayne stilled your hips, a pinch on his brow.

He captured your lips in a heated kiss, one which silenced your moans and protests, giving you what you longed for.

Zayne picked up his pace, surprising you with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“That look on your face,” he murmured huskily. “I love it. I love when you rely on me to come undone, my love.”

Your toes curled, his heated words making a shiver of need run down your spine.

“Zayne…”

Yes, my love. He moved his hand between your thighs, teasing you with delicate circles on your flushed nub.

What is it you desire?

“You.” 

He smirked, hearing the desire and need in your tone.

“You have me.”

The ball of heat tightening in your belly demanded to be released.

No… I need you in a different way.

In what way? He raised a brow, looking irresistibly smug. 

Your lover intended for you to say it out loud. To tell him explicitly what it is you needed.

Wetting your lips, you shifted your hips, feeling the head of his length graze your sweet spot.

You winced, and murmured, I need you to make me come undone. 

But, Zayne was adamant on drawing out your needs.

“Just a little longer,” he promised. “I swear it will feel better once it is drawn out.”

You trusted him, letting him take his time.

“You’re pleasing me so well tonight, my love,” he praised in a soft voice, the look of devotion in his eyes never wavering. “I think I can give you what you are yearning for…”

However, his promises came with a caveat: 

“Only if you beg for it nicely.”

A jolt of arousal sparked through your bloodstream, tightening your walls around him.

Zayne grunted, his composure hanging by a loose thread.

The circles on your clit grew sloppier, a sign of his unraveling.

You couldn’t hold back the need any longer, digging your nails into his shoulders.

“Please…” your thin whisper illuminated the dark interior of the barge. 

Please, Zayne. I need this… I need you…

Not one to push his beloved too hard, Zayne relented instantly; his chest swelling with pride at your obedient response.

Surging forward, he wrapped a hand around your waist, bringing you down onto the plush pillows as he took over.

Undulating his hips, he felt you falling apart underneath him—your toes curling, fingers lacing through his hair, tugging hard. 

Already coming undone? I can feel your control slipping, my love…

Yes, yes. You chanted, squeezing your eyes shut. 

Languidly nuzzling your neck, Zayne’s command was a heated whisper into your ear.

I know you need this—I can feel how much you need it. Let go, my love. 

It was the permission you needed. In an instant, you spilled over, following his command, always his obedient, sweet lover. 

He worked you through your contractions, feeling your entire body tensing under his touch. His cock splitting your walls over and over again drove you to the peak of your second release, and Zayne took pride in how you dug your heels into his lower back, crying out his name.

The official didn’t care who would be hearing; if the universe would conspire later to end him for his disobedience.

He couldn't think about anything else, not when you slumped into his arms, his voice a low hum; mumbling reassurances into the hollow of your throat. 

Careful to pull out and release into his own palm, Zayne didn’t care for your muffled outcry. He wouldn’t dare besmirch your body with his seed inside or out—prioritizing your dignity above all else.

The dark-haired man was careful to wipe his release on a spare silk handkerchief he brought onto the barge, taking another one to wipe the mess you made between your thighs.

Sated and glowing from your release, you let him work on you, quietly enjoying the devotion in his eyes and touch. 

Zayne’s smile was soft and hazy as he pulled you on top of him, letting your head rest on his chest. 

Longer, sturdier and calloused fingers traced patterns on your back, watching how the moon shone through the slanted windows, drawing shadows over the expanse of your skin.

His arms wrapped tightly around, pulling you deeper into his embrace, unwilling to let go. 

Outside the boat, a storm began to brew, dark clouds closing in and concealing the moon from sight. 

The balminess of the night gave way to a blessed, cooling drizzle, enveloping the boat much like his arms, keeping you safe and grounded. 

With the light of the moon extinguished, the glow of your smile became the brightest thing in the night as you leaned in, cradling his face, 

“Are you alright?” he asked softly. 

His love for you shone brighter than any celestial being could, limitless and profound, as he lost himself in the warmth of your touch.

“I am perfect.”

Not one to give him a moment of peace, you cheekily quipped:

"So, does this mean you are giving me a month's supply of rabbit candy?"

Zayne's eyes twinkled, and he chuckled, shaking his head at your question.

"If I recall," he turned you over, pinning you back onto the pillows, desire alighting his usually stoic and steady gaze.

"It was not I whose composure wavered, my little one."

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost on other websites and claim as your own. do not feed my content to AI.

[breannasfluff]

Running the flower store is a nice break. Danny’s got to do a bit more math than expected–no, Mr. Lancer, that doesn’t mean percentages were useful–but Harleen didn’t lie about the job. He sells the odd book, waters the plants, and moves the bouquets in and out of the flower fridge. 

On the second day, someone comes whirling into the shop, slamming the door behind him.

“Hi, can I help you?” Danny has on his best customer service face. 

The guy spins around and does a double-take like he wasn’t expecting to see Danny. “Who are you?”

“I work here. Are you looking for a book or flowers?”

The guy has dark hair, almost black with a hint of brown in the sun and blue eyes. He’s bulky enough that he likely works out. Laugh lines are starting at the corner of his eyes. “Where’s Harleen?”

“She’s on vacation for a few days. I’m watching the store for her in her absence.” Danny can’t help but tense, keeping a sharp eye on the stranger. What if he intends to rob the store? Danny’s got his taser, but that won’t help from behind a counter. Subtly, he reaches for intangibility, keeping it ready on a moment’s notice. He’s not about to get shot–again.

“I’m Dick,” the guy says. “Sorry about the interrogation. It’s just…Harleen never takes a vacation. She must trust you to watch the shop.”

Danny shrugs because he really has no connection with the girl. “It’s just a job. Can I help you with anything else?” He’d really prefer Dick finish his maybe-or-maybe not legitimate business and leave. 

“Right!” Dick swings back to look at the rest of the store. “I am going to see my friend later, it can’t hurt to bring some flowers. Got a suggestion?”

Normally, Danny would join the customers as they look at flowers, offering what suggestions he can. Now, he stays firmly behind the till. “The daisies are a nice pop of color. We have a few bouquets of dry flowers if you want something that lasts longer.”

Dick hums and considers the flowers. “Maybe the daisies.”

Danny rings him up, still keeping an eye on Dick. “I’ll let Harleen know you dropped by looking for her.”

“I’d appreciate it. Do you know when she’ll be back?”

He does, but there’s no way he’s telling. Who knows why Dick wants to know–if that’s even his name? “She’ll be back soon.” He defaults to his blandest smile. 

Dick wilts slightly under it, pulling the daisies toward him. “Okay, thanks. See you later.”

Not if Danny can help it. Maybe he should stay late tonight, just to make sure the guy doesn’t come back and try to break in. Explaining how he fended off a burglary might be a little difficult, but Harleen doesn’t deserve to have her shop trashed. And if she’s a friend of Pam’s, then she can be an acquaintance–friend?–of Danny’s.

Harleen laughs so hard she’s wheezing when Danny warns her about “Dick” and his off-vibes. 

“I’m guessing you know him,” he says, giving her a scowl. He’s been practicing his scowls. Batman’s famous for them. 

“Do I ever!” Harleen cackles, half lying across her counter. Finally, she hauls herself up with a grin. “No wonder Pam likes you.”

“Couldn’t let this place get robbed.”

“You did good, Dan, don’t worry. I appreciate you watchin out for the store.” She glances around at the plants and books with a soft smile. “This place is my baby. It’s nice to just have a…normal job. I’m laughin because Dicky is probably the most harmless person to come into this store and you clocked him as a robber.”

Danny sniffs and looks away. He’s learned to listen to his instincts and his instincts said that guy was Trouble with a capital T. Maybe it’s the kind of trouble Harleen likes, but he’s not about to get mixed up in it. 

Read the rest here!

[wosospacegirl]

I don’t even like boys - Arsenal teen! r

Summary: Reader has sex with a boy because she is confused about her sexuality but ends up having a pregnancy scare. Leah and Katie comfort her through it.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Talks of teenage pregnancy (but she’s not pregnant!!) a little bit of good luck, baby vibes?

Masterlist here

This was based on a request! Hope you guys enjoy it.

..

The Health check day at Arsenal was awkward. The team was split into groups of three, each assigned to a general practitioner, a physiotherapist, and a gynaecologist. All the girls had to be examined by all three before returning to training, as per house rules, Y/n guessed.

Y/n, Leah, Katie, and Kyra, sat bored in the gynaecologist’s waiting room. Leah tapped her foot in frustration. “This is ridiculous. We could be training at the gym instead of waiting here,” the blonde muttered.

“You say that every season,” Katie said, rolling her eyes. The Irish woman had a small rubber ball, which she kept bouncing back and forth against the wall.

“Yeah, because every season we lose at least two hours here just so we can go inside and answer the same questions Dr. Smith always asks,” Leah grumbled. “I know she is old and all that, but she always asks me if there is a chance I could be pregnant!” The captain continued, looking at the door as if making sure Dr. Smith wouldn’t hear her.

“I’ve told her I’m just into women like twelve times already,” Leah complained.

Leah wasn’t the chattiest person around, but mate —she could talk when she was annoyed at something.

“Don’t give the woman a hard time,” Kyra said, smiling at Leah. “It’s bureaucracy, they must keep records and stuff like that. Plus, you can’t just expect Dr. Smith to remember everybody’s sexuality. Not everyone in the team is gay.”

“The kid’s right for once,” Katie agreed.

“For once?” Kyra asked, noticing the teasing. “Shut up, McCabe.”

“You might have a point, Kyra,” Leah said, turning slightly to Y/n, who hadn’t said a word since the groups arrived at the waiting room. “Why are you so quiet, Y/n?”

“Maybe because I have nothing to say?” Y/n answered sharply, rolling her eyes.

“Someone’s in a mood,” Katie said.

“Shut up,” Y/n mumbled.

“Ouch!” The young girl exclaimed as she felt Leah pinching her arm. “Why would you do that?” Y/n snapped, looking at the captain and then at the sore skin on her arm.

“Don’t be rude,” Leah warned firmly using her captain's voice.

“I’m not being rude; you guys are just annoying to be around!”

“You guys? I haven’t done anything to you?” Kyra defended herself, a pout on her face.

Y/n hadn’t been in a mood when she woke up, but her day took a turn for worse when she received a notification on her phone from her period-tracking app.

Your period is a week late

She hadn’t realized it, being too caught up with training and school to notice how her menstrual cycle was irregular. Y/n wouldn’t have to worry about it if she had stuck to her rule —not having sex with boys — but it just happened.

Y/n wasn’t sure about her sexuality yet, but she knew she liked girls more than boys. Until last month, she had never kept any type of physical intimacy with a boy before, but it all changed when she met this nice boy from her school. He was a year old and just very kind to her.

The girl wouldn’t say she was attractive to him or anything, she actually didn’t want to have sex because she was horny, or any other reason teenagers normally have sex.

She just wanted to see if she would enjoy herself or not. If she was able to like boys or just girls.

Y/n was curious.

One thing led to another and when Y/n realized she and Chris had sex with the during a very cold Saturday afternoon. After they finished, well, he finished, Y/n put on her shirt and underwear, staring at the boy sleeping in her bed.

It felt wrong.

Not because he was rude to her or bad at sex, but because he just… wasn’t a girl.

“Hey, Chris,” Y/n poked the sleeping boy. “Mate, wake up.”

“Hm?” the boy mumbled, slightly opening her eyes. “What? Is it morning already?”

“What? No, of course not, it’s been just15 minutes since we—”

“Had sex?” The boy finished her sentence, a smirk displayed on his face.

“Well—Yeah! That’s why I need you to leave,” Y/n could see the smirk disappearing from the boy’s face, disappointment settling in.

“Leave? Like… back to my house?”

“Exactly.” Y/n left the bed, looking for her pants on the floor. Where were they? She could swear she had put it on her desk chair.

As Y/n looked around, she felt Chris’s eyes on her body. She didn’t like it.

“Did I do something wrong?” Chris finally asked, sitting straight on the bed, back against the headboard. “It was my first time too, but I hope I didn’t hurt you or anything.”

Y/n’s face soften. Maybe she was being a bit rude.

“No, Chris, it was alright, I just—I don’t think I really like…boys.” Y/n confessed, finally finding her pants under her bed.

“Oh.”

“Yeah mate, I’m sorry.”

Chris left the bed and began looking for his clothes, while Y/n stood there awkwardly. She shouldn’t feel awkward in her own house. When Chris was dressed and ready to go, Y/n led him to the front door.

“This could stay between us, right?” Y/n asked softly as she opened the door to the boy, the cold winter breeze meeting her face. She was just now realizing that Chris could very much tell anyone what they did.

Even the Media.

“I—I can’t have people knowing about this… the team and the contract—” Y/n continued.

Chris gave her a sad smile. “Don’t worry, Y/n. Let’s just pretend it never happened.”

After a clumsy goodbye, Chris left, and Y/n was finally alone again. She desperately needed a shower.

And that’s how Y/n realized she was going through a pregnancy scare.

Y/n didn’t feel different, she hadn’t had any weird cravings. She hasn’t gained or lost any weight. Surely, she wasn’t pregnant. She wasn’t on any birth control, but she had made sure Chris was wearing a condom.

They were both a bit clumsy, but they had remembered to check if the condom had a hole or not before Chris threw it away. At least they’d done one thing right.

So yeah, Y/n didn’t know why she was so nervous. She didn’t have any reason to be. She followed the Sex Education’s rules to the letter… but, what if something had gone wrong? Was she even ovulating that day? She couldn’t be sure.

Y/n began biting her nails. Her teammates could sense Y/n’s tension, but they didn’t want to make the younger girl angrier than she already was — although they were all very curious about the reason for her foul mood.

After what felt like centuries, Alessia appeared in the waiting room, having just left the gynaecologist’s office. The blonde exchanged a few words with the other girls before leaving. Now Y/n just had to wait — Dr. Smith would call one of them soon.

Within minutes, the girls heard Dr. Smith’s voice through the door. “Next!” The old lady called.

Y/n probably got up too quickly from her chair, because Leah, Katie and Kyra looked at her like she was crazy. “I’ve never seen you so excited to go see Dr. Smith before,” Kyra said.

“You almost took the chair with you,” Katie added suspiciously.

“I—I just want to be one of the firsts! The last time we had check-up day, I was the last one to go,” Y/n said defensively, taking small steps towards the office.

“You were the last one because you were terrified of going to the gynaecologist,” Leah said, raising an eyebrow. “I literally had to go in with you. “

Did the older girls really need to remember everything all the time?

“I’m just a changed woman now,” Y/n sighed. “You all might see me as some kid, but I’m almost 18 —things change.” The defensiveness in Y/n voice was unmatched, so Leah just let her go without pressing any further

“Something happened to her.”

That was the last thing Y/n could hear before entering Dr. Smith’s office.

..

 After completing the physical part of the exam, Dr. Smith sat across from Y/n at her desk, her notebook open on Y/n’s medical files. Y/n couldn’t pay attention to what the old woman was typing —she was too distracted by the sight in front of her: a replica of a uterus with a baby inside.

“Darling, I’m just going to go through the same questions as always, okay,” Dr. Smith said with a smile.

Y/n answered all the questions honestly. Yes, she had bad period cramps. No, she didn’t have migraines. Yes, it bothered her to play during her period. No, the training didn’t make the cramps go worse.

Everything was fine until Dr. Smith asked:

“During your last check, up you said you weren’t sexually active, right? How about now?”

Y/n blushed, staring at the doctor in front of her. Did she really have to go through this just to play professional football?

“Hm—So about that—yes,” Y/n fumbled over her words. She scratched the back of her head nervously.

Dr. Smith remained silent, waiting for Y/n to continue, but the young girl clamped her mouth shut, looking at the walls instead.

“Yes what, darling?” asked Dr. Smith. “This is a private space; you don’t need to be embarrassed.”

Private space? As if! Y/n thought, Dr. Smith had her whole hormonal history — and now sex life — written up in her file.

“I’ve had had sex since the last time we talked.” Y/n explained, no emotions on her face. She just needed to be direct.

“Would you be okay telling me if it was with a boy or a girl?” The poor woman was really trying to get Y/n to open up— Y/n had to give her that.

“Hm—” Y/n bit her nails. “Two months ago, I was with this girl. She was my first. And then last month, I had sex with this guy, but it was only once,” Y/n explained.

“So, you’ve had two sexual partners, correct?”

“Yes, but the girl was the only one who I slept with more than once.” Y/n was going to die of embarrassment, — she was sure of it.

“Alright darling, had you had any STI test after then?”

“Yes, everything’s fine.”

“Great! That’s great. What about your period? Have you noticed any changes in your cycle after having intercourse?” Dr. Smith questioned.

Y/n stared at the women. She had to tell her.

“Well, about that,” Y/n laughed nervously. “My period is kind of late, but it’s probably nothing, right? We used condoms, and not throwing up or anything, I just have to wait, don’t I?”

For a moment, all they could hear in the office were Y/n trainers tapping the floor.

“How late are you, Y/n?” Dr. Smith asked, a frown on her face.

“A week.”

“Hm,” Dr. Smith mumbled before getting up from her chair and opening a white cabinet. The older woman held a box with a baby printed on it and handed it to Y/n

Y/n started at the pregnancy test, not wanting to take it.

“We’ll have you doing this test, okay? Just go to the bathroom and pee on it. It will take 3 to 5 minutes to get the results.”

Y/n said nothing.

“You need to do it, Y/n, I know you are scared, but we can’t be sure why your period is late if you don’t take.”

Y/n took the pregnancy test, tears in her eyes.

Before Dr. Smith could say anything, Y/n was already bolting through the office door, straight to the bathroom. She heard Leah and Katie behind her. The older women were calling for her, asking what had happened, but Y/n didn’t look back.

When she got to the bathroom, she locked herself in one of the stalls, it wasn’t long before she heard the door open. Before Leah or Katie could say anything, Y/n was already crying.

Leah and Katie looked at each other, both very worried. They didn’t know what could have possibly happened back at the gynaecologist’s office, but they were sure it was bad by the way the young girl reacted.

“Hey babe, what’s wrong?” Leah asked softly. “Did something, why are you crying?”

“I’m an idiot,” Y/n answered, her hands shaking. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

Katie and Leah shared an apprehensive look.

“And why do you say that kid? Leah questioned, trying to get the stall to open. “Come talk to us.”

Y/n was so distressed, she just wanted to get this test done over with.

“I—I had sex with this boy from my school,” Y/n confessed, tears running down her face. “I’m not even sure why, I know I don’t like boys, but I just wanted to be sure.”

“Okay, that okay, that’s completely normal,” Katie said. “It’s that why you are crying?”

Half the Arsenal team were lesbians. They’d been Y/n’s age once and knew how confusing it is to understand one’s sexuality.

“Did the boy do something to you, Y/n?” Leah asked, her voice angry. “If he did, we can find him and go to the police—”

“It’s not that,” Y/n said through tears. “My period is late, and Dr. Smith gave me a pregnancy test, but I’m just scared to take it.”

The bathroom was silent again.

“Did you use protection?” Leah asked, breaking the silence.

“Yes,” Y/n answered through the door.

“Okay, so the odds are in your favor, yeah, kid? Go take the test, and when you’re done, we’ll be right here with you.” Leah said.

“I’m sure it’s going to be negative, babe, don’t worry, take the test, and then we’ll figure stuff out.” The Irish women added.

That’s what Y/n did. She followed the instructions written on the box and just waited. She could see Katie’s and Leah’s shadows through the door opening. Who would have thought that shadows could be comforting?

A minute passed. Then two. And then five.

Just one bright pink line.

Not pregnant.

Y/n yanked the stall door open and threw her arms around Leah and Katie, who weren’t expecting the sudden embrace. The girl felt like she could finally breathe again, her heart slowing doing as her chest relaxed against Leah and Katie’s embrace.

“I’m not fucking pregnant,” Y/n said, hugging the women tight. “I might start crying again.”

“See, we were right, nothing to worry about,” Leah patted Y/n’s back

“I told you, no drama.” Katie said playfully. “Pregnancy tests are overrated anyway.”

After Y/n calmed down, the three women went back to the waiting room. Y/n had to go back inside the gynaecologist office to tell Dr. Smith she wasn’t pregnant after all. After a few minutes, Dr. Smith let Y/n go and told advised her to use birth control or IUD is she wanted to feel more protected against any potential pregnancy.

“Oh Dr. Smith, don’t worry, now I know I don’t even like boys,” Y/n said before leaving the room.

..

Notes: Please like, reblog and let me know what you think! Feedback is important and makes me want to write even more. :D

Read more of my work here -> Masterlist

[solxamber]

how about Octavinelle students with a half shark!reader headcanons who is just intimidating but nice towards them , looks like they have insane bloodlust but they're really nice , they don't talk to anyone but them cuz they're scared of accidentally hurt them (cuz when they accidentally feel someone else's blood they're mouth breaks into massive fangs)

If thus is too hard , ignore it , goodluck on your studies

Octavinelle with a Shark! Reader (HCs)

hi, i loved the ask its so cute <3

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul first meets you with his usual shark-like grin—until he sees the sheer predator energy radiating off you. He freezes mid-sentence, giving you the most awkward, watery smile. The only thing running through his mind is "I might have miscalculated."

But then you flash him the smallest, softest smile. The disconnect between your terrifying aura and kindness breaks him completely. He's staring, struggling between his business instincts and his desire not to get eaten.

“You’re quite… unique,” he says, trying not to sound nervous. “Thanks. You, too.” Azul.exe has crashed.

He soon realizes you’re not out to maul him, which makes him infinitely curious. He tries to study you, politely of course—like he’s about to offer a very lucrative loan agreement.

When he notices you only speak to him and the Tweels, he secretly feels way too smug about it. If anyone else tries to talk to you, you just give them this blank, shark-eyed stare until they flee in terror.

Azul loves it. He may be business-minded, but your intimidating presence is great for his stress levels. No more annoyances!

However, the day you accidentally get blood on your hands while eating, you smile—full shark fangs, gleaming and sharp—and he almost faints. He looks at your monstrous grin and says, voice cracking, “I-It’s… uh… a lovely smile, truly...”

You’re so worried about scaring him off, but Azul low-key thinks it’s kind of awesome. You become his VIP intimidation service—though he swears he only uses your friendship “for mutual benefit.” (Sure, Azul.)

Jade Leech

The first time Jade meets you, he knows something is off. Your posture is way too relaxed for someone exuding that much bloodlust. It intrigues him immediately. You smell like danger, but you talk like a librarian.

Jade is completely unbothered by your scary vibes. In fact, he leans in closer whenever you give off that silent, intimidating energy, like he’s trying to encourage it.

“You’re quite the curious one, aren’t you?” he says, tilting his head with a sly smile. You just blink, utterly confused by his calmness.

When he realizes you only talk to him, Floyd, and Azul, his interest skyrockets. It’s not every day someone ignores the rest of NRC while picking him as their favorite conversation partner. He takes it as a compliment, in his strange Jade way.

One day, you accidentally get a whiff of someone’s blood. You’re trying so hard to hold back, but your mouth stretches into a horrifying grin—rows of massive, sharp fangs on full display. Jade just stares in pure, gleeful fascination.

“Incredible,” he murmurs. “I didn’t know you were capable of such expressions. Show me again sometime.”

You panic. “Jade, I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“Hmm. I disagree.”

He is not even remotely afraid of you. In fact, he makes it worse by offering you little challenges—like opening oysters with your teeth or biting things just to see your fangs pop out. He probably offers his hand as a joke to see what you’ll do.

“Would you like to try it?” he says, stretching out a finger. You choke on air. “Jade, I’m not biting you.”

He just smiles, not withdrawing his hand. “How tragic.”

Floyd Leech

Floyd immediately latches onto you the moment you meet.

“Whoa! You’re like a shark! A big scary one!” he says with a grin, not remotely intimidated. In fact, he gets right in your personal space, poking at your cheek like he’s sizing you up for a fight.

When you don’t react aggressively, just awkwardly shuffle back, he finds it hilarious. You’re big, you look like you could eat people whole, but you’re nervous around others? It makes you even more interesting to him.

Floyd becomes obsessed with you. He’s glued to your side, acting like you’re his personal shark pet. He drapes himself all over you, throws an arm around your shoulders, and teases you relentlessly.

“C’mon, show me the teeth! I know you’ve got those big chompers in there.”

One day, you accidentally taste blood after someone near you scrapes their hand. Your fangs break out in full force, and you’re grinning like a nightmare creature. Floyd stares for a beat—and then bursts into laughter.

“There it is! Ahahaha! I knew you had those! Do it again!” he yells

“I-I can’t just do it, Floyd—”

“Why not? C’mon, chomp! Chomp!!”

He’s utterly unhinged about it. Floyd starts trying to coax out your fangs like a maniac, probably waving his hand around, daring you to bite him just to see if he can provoke you.

“Bite me, bite me, bite me!” “Floyd, no!” “Floyd, yes!!”

Despite his chaos, he’s weirdly protective of you. If anyone so much as looks at you wrong, he switches moods instantly—grinning one second, deathly serious the next.

“Hey. Don’t bother my sharkie, or I’ll bite you.”

In the end, Floyd loves every part of you, terrifying fangs and all. If anything, he thinks you’re the coolest friend ever, and he never misses an opportunity to drag you into trouble—because, hey, what’s better than two scary creatures teaming up to terrorize people?

Masterlist

[riality-check]

DILF!Steve concert saga, featuring Eddie POV for this part! part 1, part 2

"I have to open it."

"Nope."

"Gareth. I need to open it."

"The vault is sacred," Archie says.

At the same time, Jeff chimes in, "The vault was your idea, Eddie."

Eddie thunks his head against the wall. "I know. But I need-"

"They're on the last song," Archie says, putting a hand on Eddie's shoulder. It's probably meant to be comforting, but it feels patronizing as shit.

Eddie is a good friend, though. He doesn't shrug him off.

"Once they're through, I'll unlock it," Jeff says, dangling the key slung around his neck.

"But you could do it now," Eddie protests.

Gareth sits protectively on top of the black lock box. "Absolutely not."

Eddie sighs and waits for the guitar solo onstage to end, nodding his head along to the beat.

It's what he usually does when they're backstage, but this time, it brings a smile to his face. Miss Anna was a natural yesterday for her first time headbanging, and her dad is the reason Eddie wants to break the sacred vault tradition.

He wants, no, needs to know if he got the note. If he decided to write something. If he wants to go a little further than PG flirting.

Eddie for sure wants to go further than that. God. Steve's handsome face and his big hands and his thick thighs (deliciously exposed by his shorts in the summer heat) are all wonderful incentives to skip a few steps and go straight to ramming him into a mattress.

Or, with how that shirt clung to Steve's biceps and how his shorts clung to his ass, let him ram Eddie into the mattress. He isn't picky.

(He isn't desperate, either, thank you very much, Gareth. And no, he won't admit how long it's been since he got laid.)

From the house, the audience roars, and Eddie jumps off the arm of the couch he was laying on.

Gareth sighs and gets off the lock box.

"Jeff, open it," Eddie says, staring at the vault and subconsciously making grabby hands toward it.

"Is that how we ask?"

"I could always yank the key off you."

Archie sighs and, ever the peacemaker, takes the key from Jeff and unlocks the vault. The second it's open, Eddie snatches his phone and turns it on.

Please please please let the DILF text back, he thinks to himself as he waits for this stupid metal brick to turn on and give him a resolution to this whole ridiculous situation.

Because, first, Eddie doesn't really jive with kids. Sure, they flock to him in the same way they flock to every other vaguely cool-looking person, but aside from asking if he has to draw his tattoos on every day or if his mommy is okay with him having his hair that long, they generally leave him alone.

And that's okay. Eddie easily made his peace with not having kids about ten years ago. Between his strong preference for men and the way that significantly decreases those odds and the choice to not pass on his truly abysmal family history of mental illness and addiction, it seemed obvious and a lot more selfless.

But Anna was cool as hell. Smart as hell, too, in a way that made Eddie feel like he was looking back at a time before school punished him for being bright and verbose and energetic.

Anna didn't make him want kids. Again, the whole family history thing is a real vibe killer. But she did give him enough fuel, for just an instant, to think that dating someone with a kid might not be a deal breaker anymore.

Or maybe Steve was just that hot.

He whined a lot yesterday, in the hotel, about how hot Steve was.

His phone turns on, and, front and center, is a text from an unknown number:

I guess I don’t have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we’re even on that front, I’m a teacher, and Anna’s full time job is preschool.

Eddie grins so hard he feels like his face will split in two.

"Is it him?" Jeff asks, trying to look over Eddie's shoulder.

"Of course it is," Gareth scoffs. "Look at his face."

"What did he say?" Archie asks.

Eddie takes the easier way out and lets him have the phone.

Gareth and Jeff crowd over Archie's shoulders, and Eddie watches their faces change as they read the message.

"Oh, he's bitchy," Gareth says.

"That means he's perfect," Jeff says, with a pointed look at Eddie.

Eddie shoots Archie a clear "back me up" look and gets a shrug in return because all his friends are assholes who know his type way too fucking well.

"What do I say?" he asks.

Archie tosses him the phone. "I don't know. Flirt back."

"I don't know how!"

"You ground against a guitar-"

"And kissed me onstage," Jeff continues. "But you don't know how to flirt?"

Eddie puts his head in his hands. "I didn't have enough sex in high school to know how to do this!"

"That's not an excuse when none of us did!" Gareth says.

Jeff barks out a laugh.

"Just ask if he's free tomorrow," Archie says, like the rational, wonderful friend he is. "This was the last stop of tour. It's not like you have to get anywhere else at a specific time."

"Okay. Okay, yeah, I can do that," Eddie says, hyping himself up. Before he can second guess himself, he writes back.

Since it's summer, I'm assuming you both have off. Can you fit it in your busy schedule to have dinner with a humble musician tomorrow night?

"Oh, shit, did you send it?" Gareth asks, snatching his phone.

"Wait," Archie says, like the rational, horrible friend he is. "Do we know if he's single?"

"Oh, shit," Jeff whispers.

Eddie takes his phone back and refuses to look at it. He wants to shut it down. He wants to drop it. He wants to drive to nearest river and throw it there.

"Am I a homewrecker?" he asks absently.

"Only if you succeed," Jeff says.

"He might have a wife," Archie muses. "He might be straight."

"Okay, dude, enough," Gareth says. "This was supposed to be exciting! Eddie was supposed to get ass!"

"He might be ace."

"Archie, shut the fuck up."

He holds his hands up in surrender, and Jeff pats his shoulder, a little comfortingly, a lot condescendingly.

Eddie sits down on the couch. Puts his head in his hands. Breathes.

He's flirting with a married man. He's absolutely flirting with a married man. This is a new low. This is worse than the time he licked the floor of a restaurant, drunk, for five bucks. This is worse than when he greened out in the parking lot of a Chuck E. Cheese. This is worse than when he accidentally told the gas station cashier that he loved them and immediately walked into the glass door behind him.

This is. So bad.

And then his phone rings, so it'll get worse. It has to. That's how these things go.

Eddie has always been self-destructive, so, of course, he looks at the screen.

I can't swing dinner, but how's lunch? Fair warning: it might be a playground picnic if my babysitter bails.

"Holy shit, I'm not a homewrecker," Eddie says.

"I didn't think you had it in you," Jeff says.

"He's single!" Gareth cheers.

"Can I talk now?" Archie teases.

"I'm not a homewrecker!" Eddie says, and he launches off the couch to hug the nearest person, who happens to be Jeff.

They have to get out of the venue. He has to figure out the logistics of the date and how to be normal by the time he gets there and what to wear and everything else.

But, right now, Eddie is over the fucking moon that Steve is even giving him a shot. And he hopes, giddy as all hell and hanging off of Jeff's shoulders, that Steve feels even a little bit like this.

He writes back, once he's calmed down:

Lunch might just become my new favorite meal.