#so i didn't mean for this to turn into an essay but oh well

[pumpkinprincess22]

Lady Zianna Ro’Meave has not always been a Ro’Meave, though she has been one for more than half her life. If she told you of her name before you wouldn’t recognise it. Her family were royalty back home in Tu’La Her grandmother was the daughter of a king, her cousins sit on the throne now.

When she was around 17/18 an internal struggle for the throne caused panic, betrayal and death within the Tu’lan royal family. Fearing for their lives and the life of their daughter Zianna’s parents fled Tu’la and ended up in the city state of O’Khasis. To secure their positions and wealth in a new continent her parents sought an advantageous marriage for their daughter.

Ru’aun did away with monarchy centuries ago meaning that nobility works differently in O’Khasis. In Tu’la Zianna was a Lady, the granddaughter of a princess but in O’Khasis she was no one. She ended up married to a Ro’Meave cousin with wealth and position enough to allow her to live in comfort, though it was not a match her parents would ever have considered for her in Tu'la.

She did not love her husband but he was kind to her and she was happy enough. He had grown up children of his own to be his heirs so while Zianna herself would have loved to be a mother someday he did not pressure her into having children right away and she was largely given freedom to do as she wished, living amicably with her husband.

Less than a year into her marriage her husband died suddenly leaving her a widow at only 19. As she had not had his children her position was precarious and her parents urged her to marry one of her adult stepsons in order to keep her money and home but Zianna was reluctant to follow their advice.

See Zianna had fallen in love. Her freedom allowed her to roam the markets and parks of O’Khasis and during one of her many trips she fell in love with a young merchant. His name is unimportant to this story. He was young, handsome and wealthy and most importantly Zianna loved him. Her parents, however, did not but after many months she convinced them to allow her to marry her beloved.

That would have been the end of the story if only it hadn’t been for Garte Ro’Meave. Zianna’s parents refused to let her marry or announce her engagement until the traditional one year mourning period was up. She was one month to being free when she was invited to The Party.

The Party was a 21st birthday party for the Ro’Meave heir Garte. As she was still technically part of the family Zianna was expected to attend, and that was when she caught the eye of the man who would become her husband. Garte knew the moment he saw her that he had to have her. He asked her parents for their permission to marry her and they granted it instantly.

Zianna was forced to break off her engagement and within the year she was Lady Ro’Meave, Garte's father having died unexpectedly mere months into Garte and Zianna’s marriage. This marriage was more restrictive than her first had been and Garte less kind, Zianna struggled without the freedom her previous marriage, and widowhood, had afforded her. Things became easier when her eldest son was born, motherhood filled the stretches of loneliness and soon a second son followed. She loved her boys but she couldn’t ignore her husband’s cruelty, she never forgot her fiancé either.

He had moved on too but his wife had died giving birth to their son and he hadn’t remarried. Once, when Garte had been particularly awful to her her handmaid helped her flee to her old lover’s home. Zianna found parts of herself in his arms that she hadn’t known she had lost. He convinced her to flee Garte and O’Khasis and go with him on his next trade journey setting sail in the morning but when the sun rose she was gone, having returned to the Ro’Meave estate in the middle of the night.

For all her talk of freedom she had never been without the comforts of nobility and she was afraid of how to live without it, that and she feared for her boys should she flee, already at four years old Garte was shaping her eldest boy into his image.

Many months later when Zianna found herself to be pregnant once again she thought nothing of it, she loved her sons and she would love this child too. And when he was born, a healthy baby boy her husband was pleased that he had another heir, but as the years passed and he grew up to look like neither Zianna nor Garte as their elder two children did, but her old lover, Garte grew suspicious. Zianna had never spoken of her night with him to anyone but rumours flew regardless.

Eventually news reached her of a ship lost at sea, its crew missing and presumed dead, among them her former fiance. Zianna wasn’t sure if it was something her husband had orchestrated but when the man's 10 year old son showed up in the O’Khasis Guard Academy, hand picked by the Lord himself, she had her doubts that the shipwreck had been an accident.

The boy grew up, as did her own sons each taking their own paths. Her eldest joined the boy at the Guard Academy, her middle son joined the church of Irene and started training to be a priest, and her baby boy, her songbird was content just to live.

The boy became the youngest Jury of Nine member in O’Khasis history, Sir Jeffory the Goldenheart: executed for treason. Her eldest boy graduated from the Guard Academy with full marks, Sir Garroth Ro’Meave: missing and presumed dead, a traitor to O'Khasis. Her middle son became High Priest at only 25, Zane Ro'Meave: died a heretic. Her youngest son, her songbird, Vylad Ro'Meave: was murdered in his home before he even reached adulthood.

And Zianna endured. It is a horrid thing to outlive one's children, but Zianna survived it with the grace and charity expected of someone with her upbringing. She tempered her husband's mood, steered him away from starting wars and generally ruled her city from the sidelines. She tended to her garden, full of poppies and foxgloves and all sorts of berries, and if a rather unpleasent merchant or guard or ally of Garte's died suddenly not long after spending time with her the blame never found its way to her feet.

She also sought out Jeffory's orphan daughter. In another life, another world, Abby could have been her granddaughter. Zianna couldn't bring the girl into her home and offer the maternal love that she needed, but she could give Abby jobs, point her in the direction of work and give her a ring with the Ro'Meave seal which got Abby out of a tough spot on more than one occassion.

Zianna Ro'Meave has not always been a Ro'Meave, but it has been the role that suited her best.

[dilf-docs]

So Is it Your Place Or Mine?

bfd!joel miller x younger!reader

summary: summer is over, but your affair with joel isn't (or, you grind on joel's belt buckle while sarah is at soccer practice)

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., exhibition kink (sarah is again a victim of this), brat taming (this two are soo into it), degradation kink, praise kink, lwk breeding kink, daddy kink (wow! it's a whole library of alexandria of kinks in here), fingering, dad bod!joel (best joel you mean), angst (oh guys look oh no it's alr starting), dirty talk!!!!! (they're so dirty ew i want it too wait who said that)

word count: 3,701 words

side note: and it became officially a series. hope u all are into this as much as i am because it's my first series ever !!!!! ALSO angst finally makes it way in this mess LET'S GO (i'mcrying i really looked up big texas belt to come up with a mental image in the middle of class, i'm so sorry to whoever sat behind me but idc abt me writing smut while at uni; we die like real men)

part: prev | masterlist | next

"What do you mean you're not coming?"

It's been an unspoken rule that, even if you hate sports and the ball stays ten meters away from you, you always come to Sarah's soccer practice, cheering for her from your usual spot at the benches.

Except today, you aren't there. And now Sarah is calling you when she shouldn't, but that she doesn't know.

"I can't. I have stuff to work on stuff"

Bullshit.

Your laptop and the half-written essay sit untouched at the coffee table. The thing being touched in question, is something entirely different.

"Need help?"

His hands grip any free spot of your glistening skin, sucking on the rosy pink until it turns maroon red.

"I'm at my dorm, sorry"

Double bullshit.

Sarah doesn't even know your car is parked next to her dad's truck. She has about four hours to find out.

"I can drop by later then" she suggests.

His hot breath tingles against your neck as his nose caresses the spot. Bad girl, he mouths, like he wasn't the one who told you to pick up, despite his daughter's name on the caller's ID. You try to reach for a kiss, but his digits press on your hair, pulling you back with violence to forbid your lips from touching his. Bad girl, and your arousal drips with more intensity at the remark. Bad girl.

"No!" the answer comes quick, your voice strained, and Sarah jokes that you should take it easy with your classes, instead of suspecting anything else.

"Fine! I won't go if you don't want me to, but if you show up dead by stress, I'll be free of guilt"

He kisses the outline of your jaw with sloppy movements, like he just wants to busy himself while Sarah blabbers about the practice, and you keep trying to make her stop, but she tells you not to worry, that she's on a break right now, and the task to avoid whimpering at his rough kisses across your neck becomes increasingly difficult. A gasp escapes your lips when his teeth sink into your flesh. Mine, not to be said but to be felt. Seen by the rest. A pretty red that tastes like the blood he craves, the hunger akin to violence. Bad girl, and he's biting your lip to stop any other filthy noises from escaping. What if she hears?

"Are you okay?" concern laced on Sarah's tone. Guilt creeps through the cracks of the worn-out paint of his bedroom, one your friend had practically begged him to restore; the joke of it all was that was about his job yet he couldn't fix his own goddamn house. "Y/n, did you hurt yourself?"

I'm treating you well, ain't I, doll? and then he'd grin against the crook of your neck before looking at you, his dark blown-wide pupils gazing at you with a hunger you didn't think it was possible. They'd burn, and the fire didn't scare you: it was the warm your cold body needed. Tell Sarah her daddy ain't hurting her slut of a friend.

"I-I'm fine" you manage to choke out. Good girl.

Joel's lids feel heavy as a crown. But you like 'em rough, don't 'cha, baby?

"Should I worry?"

Joel pulls harder, your scalp burning at the harsh tug. Answer when I ask. You breathe in heavily, and Sarah keeps on asking you if you're okay, threatening to burst through a dorm door she'll find empty.

"N-no" you meekly answer, and he laughs at your demeanor. Under his weight, pinned down on the mattress, there's nowhere to run to.

"Is it okay if I-"

"Sarah I need to hang, okay? My head hurts. Bye" it all comes down in a rush, the words a vomit of excuses. You make sure the call has ended, and so does Joel, that in an act of mercy, has stopped. You both look the screen until the lockscreen is back up again, a picture of you and Sarah. Despite used to having his weight on top of you, your throat feels constricted.

"Do you want to traumatize your daughter, Mr. Miller?"

He's back at his task of kissing, making you moan and writhe at the sensitivity of your kissed and bit skin during the last hour. You hate how he takes his time―edging you; unbearable.

"What I want is you"

The lie comes out effortlessly from his teeth. He wants you, needs you, but does he really want you? His daughter's best friend, the college girl he was going to lecture just last summer―to live life and forget about him, yet couldn't. He lies to himself, saying he didn't because you felt asleep, but feeling a warm body next to him, being your beautiful frame of all people, made it hard.

The way he makes a moaning mess out of you, how he knows every spot of your body no one had been able to please before, how your cunt stretches perfectly around his cock, how you call his name like no one else had done. It belongs to you now, and this is a vice.

It's like he's got a wound, and you're the only balm that can soothe the pain. But the effect is temporary, and after you leave, he always finds himself wanting more.

The doubt on his eyes has your heart beating out of fear.

"Then have me, Mr. Miller" you dare.

When Joel smiles, barely noticeable, something flutters in your stomach.

"Al'ight, impatient one. We have sum hours until Sarah's back. Spread" his hand nudges your thighs apart, and you oblige, making Joel chuckle at your obedience. "Good girl, baby. S'good f'r me"

You let out a gentle moan at the praise, and he smirks at your reaction.

"Feelin' desperate, are we?" he taunts, seeing your pretty lips parted and face flushed, a whine escaping them.

"Shut the fuck up and just kiss me already" you beg, pussy throbbing painfully.

"Damn brat" he hisses, "ain't you such'a needy greedy slut?" his finger hooks on your panties, tugging you closer into him, your body rising to clash against his softer frame that has nothing to do with his rough demeanor. You can feel the bulge that has formed through his pants, making you moan in delight.

"Sorry, daddy. I'll be a good girl" you squirm under his weight, pouting lips and batting eyelashes. "Please, kiss me. Pretty please, daddy"

"Jus' cus you asked well" but he knows it's an excuse to capture your sweet lips until he's tasted all of you. You once heard old men kiss like they want to devour every inch of your mouth, to make space for their tongue like it's going to live in there, and they were right.

He pulls away from the kiss to pull out his shirt, revealing his soft body. Your hands itch, immediatly reaching for it with wandering fingers. He chuckles at the eagerness, but then he catches the subtle adoration in your eyes, and his breath hitches, heart stopping.

"What's wrong?" you look up, and it's gone. Maybe he imagined it.

Joel doesn't know why he feels dissapointed by it.

He tries to push the thoughts back, head diving down between your breasts, leaving sloppy kisses and messy trails of saliva with his tongue on each one. He gives a special lick to your hardened nipples, making you squirm.

"Gonna bend y'r fuckin' sexy little body on this sheets. Gonna make you cum all'over, until y'r scent is'mpregnated on 'em"

You groan at his words, fingers pulling down the pajama shorts you brought over, revealing your pretty black laced lingerine.

"Fuck, baby. You wore 'em for me?" he's asking, and you'd be crazy if you think the tone reveals devotion. Is Joel even capable of warmth?

He leaves a new trail of kisses, this time, running from your neck to your stomach.

"Gonna make you scream my name 'til that's the only thin' you know how to say" his hot breath tingles over your abdomen. He buries his face in there, the mustache and scruffy graying hair tickling the skin. "Gon' give you such'a load, this flat stomach of yours will be bustin' with my seed"

You whine at his filthy words, mouth agape slightly. He looks at your soaked panties, arousal on clear display now. Joel's cock twitches in the confines of his jeans.

He lets out a low growl. "Look at you, such'a slut for me. Drippin' wet like a fuckin' whore and desperate, when I ain't even touch you"

To prove so, Joel teasingly runs his fingers along your inner thigh, dangerously close to your soaking core.

He pulls your underwear down, taking them off.

"M'gonna fuck you real good, baby" his fingers dig on your thighs for support, the burning sensation of his calloused digits on your soft skin delicious. "Gon' take care of what's mine"

Mine.

The words ring loud and clear. The only other noise to be heard is his lips leaving wet sounds against your thighs. Does Joel even realize what he said? Or was it in the heat of the moment?

No, wait. Stop. Why do you care?

He begins to rub circles in your clit, coating his fingers in your dripping arousal, prodding the tense needy hole, making you moan in desperation.

"Please, daddy" your lips cry as you beg for him to do anything to remove the pain in between your legs.

"Please, what?" Joel teases, voice raspy. He keeps prodding your center, his digits in and out in a gentle manner, contrasting his hard hold on your thigh. You squirm and whine at the sensation, but maybe it's the dark on his eyes that's really responsable for making you shrink under his gaze. "Think 'm doin' this for ya'? To please ya'? No, baby" he tuts, "you were a bad girl. Almost got caught"

"If you didn't make me answer" you seethe, a moan almost escaping your lips when his fingers hit that sweet spot of yours. "Maybe if you didn't, she wouldn't-"

Joel removed his fingers from you, and you reduce to a moaning mess, begging for the release you were chasing and now it's lost.

"But you wanted'er to know, didn't ya'?" he unbuckles his belt and fumbles with his worn-out jeans, revealing a barely concealed neediness on his side. "Wanted'er to know where 'er slut of a friend was: at daddy's house, beggin' for his dick like a cockhungry slut"

"I-I want it. Want you dick" you barely choke out, lips parted at the sight of his pulsating dick's silhouette under his brief.

"Then take it, hungry one"

His tip buries deeply into your cunt before you even speak again, sliding inside in one swift motion. You gasp, as he fills you up completely, because despite the way your cunt stretches for him, or the way you have had his dick and need it, his girth never fails to amaze you.

"D-daddy" you moan, walls stretching to accommodate his size. Your sweet arousal drips down your thighs, coating Joel's balls. Fuck, doesn't he love to see you squirming under him. He's never had a woman like you before, wrapped around his finger. You may be a girl, but God, you feel so much better around his dick than anyone else: your cunt tenses around his cock deliciously, his dick twitching when he takes a look at your legs shaking and fucked out state.

"That's it, pretty girl. Beg for'it"

His words go straight to your core as you moan. "Please. Let me take all of you, Joel, please"

You said his name. Fuck. He shouldn't be this aroused, but the way you say it like that's the only thing you know, like it means something more, it makes his dick throb and heart sting. That he, Joel Miller, old bitter man, single dad, could mean more to a young pretty girl like you.

"Fuck" he grunts, grabbing a handful of your hair as he begins to pull out slowly, plunging inside of you with harsh movements. The sound of skin clapping is obscene as he begins to fuck you mercilessly. "Ain't you a noisy lil' thing, huh? You like that, baby? You like it rough?"

Your voice comes out shaky. "Y-yes, daddy. F-fuck, just like that. I like it a l-lot"

"Good girl" he grins satisfied with your respone, his thrusts getting rougher and messier. "Lookin' s'pretty with my dick's inside of you"

Joel changes angles without telling you, brushing your g-spot. A noise so loud and vulgar comes out of your parted lips, and you feel ashamed.

But then he's brushing a strand of hair from your face, with a delicacy you've seen reserved for his daughter only. It feels weird, and you try that it doesn't distract you from your looming orgasm.

"Joel..." you breath out his name.

"Yes?" with everything coming out of his mouth: possesiveness, neediness, pleasure. Like he'd give you the world if you just ask, despite telling himself he wouldn't.

"K-keep going"

Your gaze bores into his eyes with an intensity that almost makes him stop. Because the words are simple, but Joel's been alive enough on this Earth to know it doesn't mean just that.

Keep going. Don't stop. Don't end this. Don't let me go.

"Whatever m'princess asks if she asks 'em nice"

You scream in pleasure as his thrusts become deeper, his balls slapping against your cunt, as your slick begins to run down your thighs. Joel thinks he's going crazy at the way your folds take him, how tight you feel, and the loud noises you make, begging him to fuck you harder, to use you. Every thrust pushes you closer to the edge, writhing under his touch as you begin to see stars.

"You close, aren't ya'?" he laughs, but it's devoid of mockery. A subtle softness hides behind them. Ask nicely, and I shall give. "Gon' cream 'round my dick like a good girl, right?"

His digits dig in the flesh of your hips, guiding himself to fuck you harder, for you to take him better, caging your body under the sheets, pushing you even closer to your orgasm. You mewl loudly, tears in the corner of your eyes at the delicious burn.

If you told yourself a year ago you'd be crying over Joel Miller's dick, of all people, you'd probably laugh. But no college boys had been able to please you, less bring you to tears as you reach your orgasm. This is heaven, and you aren't ready to say goodbye to the paradise you found in summer just yet.

Your core tenses around him, body so close to finishing, hair a mess, eyes brimming with tears, and lips spilling the filthiest sounds ever heard to humankind. It's heaven, and Joel isn't ready to give it up just yet. Your pussy throbs, and as your juices mix as one, you roll your eyes and head back, your high approaching, knot in your stomach tightening faster. Before you can register, your mind goes blank and you're seeing stars.

You come around his cock, coating it in your arousal as Joel admires how you cream his member, tight walls almost pushing him out of you. He groans at your simmering cries, some tears coming out of your eyes.

"What'e fuckin' slut, baby. You sure are somethin' else" he chuckles, his thrusts messier by his own high approaching. "Wait for me, yeah, baby?"

You humm, as he buries deep into you, filling you up completely, as his hips stop their harsh movements when he feels the tension in his abdomen release.

"Fuckin' sweet" he uses a finger to clean some of the slick that's run down your leg. "Good girl"

He licks them off in an obscene display, making sure to never break contact.

"If you keep doing that, I'm gonna become a real bad girl" you taunt.

Then he pulls out of you carefully, doing his best not to spill too much of his load from your cunt. He grabs one of the corners of his sheets, cleaning some of his seed from your thighs. Joel should be careful, but all his foggy mind can muster is you being his in every way he can. Making you his. Mine. Mine. Mine. You plead him not to do that, but he argues laundry day is soon and he likes it better when it smells like you anyway. You confess with a cute light blush in your cheeks that you do the same when he comes over to fuck you in your dorm, sleeping better when the covers smell like him. He shouldn't feel like this: like it could be. But he allows himself to, even for an instant.

"Oh, yeah?" he pants, "what you gon' do?"

Your eyes travel to his jeans and untied buckle he hadn't wasted time taking off, rather just pulling them down.

"I have something in mind..." you wander off, remembering filthy thoughts of your first night together, how you briefly thought about it. "I-" you cut off, blushing furiously.

"Yes?" he holds your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him as his rough fingers press on the skin. "Remember what I told ya', baby? To ask nicely? 'Cause you said you'd be a good girl, so be one and tell daddy what'd ya' want"

You gulp, trying to hold his gaze. You never back down. You never back down. But the intensity of the shinning copper makes that insufferable character of yours to be tamed, boiling against the surface but just scratching, all screams lost. Is like he knows this power over you, acting on it with a benevolence so sick, it has you thinking loving Joel Miller isn't impossible.

You never back down, but being with Joel feels like walking over stones, always thinking about the next step and the ones that were, ghosts of the lingering doubts and afterthoughts behind every step you take. It's like there's a river below them, washing away regret.

But you're still here: water up your knees then and now over your head.

You're barely floating. You'd be willing to drown anyway.

"I want to ride your belt buckle"

There's silence in the other side, until its met with a light chuckle.

"Yeah?" Joel keeps on laughing, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. "S'that what that filthy head of yours be thinkin' on?"

"Stop it" you groan, covering your hot face with your palms. You wish you could erase that ugly smirk off his face. "I'm never telling you anything again, ever"

"Now c'mon, baby. I was jus' messin' 'round" his tone adquires a soft edge to it, tender warm hands removing yours from your face. "Don't cover your face, baby. You're too goddam pretty" you blush, and Joel better resist the urge to kiss you just for the sake of kissing you. "I didn't mean to make fun of ya'. You know y'can tell me anythin' that's goin' inside that head of yours"

"Then you'll let me?" your pretty eyes look up to him, shinning like the stars of the summer night sky months ago.

He can't deny you anything, and a small crack of fear wounds his impenetrable heart.

"Get'ere you filthy slut"

You eagerly climb onto his lap as he sits against the beds headboard, your thighs pushing against his belly.

"Now" he tries to put in a more comfortable position, his tired joints creaking. He avoids your gaze, coughing over his blush. "You do all the job, baby. I ain't gonna help you, this greedy pussy took all of my energy"

You giggle, moving until your bare pussy clashes against the cold. A shiver runs down your spine, the dried juices moistening again over the metal piece. His hands move to your hips, hands now soft as they hold you, and he seems unsure of it, both of your breaths coming out ragged.

"You said you weren't gonna help" you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck. His face feels closer, and you can see lines time has marked across his features. "But thanks, daddy"

His heart takes a dangerous leap.

"'Course, baby" he smiles. "You know I spoil ya' too damn much"

You begin to roll your hips, sliding your pussy over the cold material, your arousal making a wet slick sound that bounces off the walls, a shiver down your back as you feel your slick already coating the front of it and the top of his jeans.

"Mmm, can't say no to me, can you, baby?" you mock, rocking your hips back and forth. A shaky breath escapes your parted lips, and Joel feels his renovated dick spring hard. You moan, your ass barely touching his now tense member.

"Quit runnin' that mouth of y'rs, baby" his digits dig on your skin, "or I'll bend ya' over again"

"Sorry, daddy" you feel the metal star on the middle digging inside your pussy, the borders of the imprint brushing your leaking cunt in a pleasant way. "I promise to be good"

"Do" he grunts, "you're runnin' out of time, doll"

You close your eyes, movements more quick and erratic, little moans leaving your body as you groan.

"Tell me how this lil' experiment of yours feelin', baby"

"F-feels good, daddy. Fuck" you groan, lifting your hips a bit as you grind yourself down across the material. "So so good, daddy. Thank you, daddy"

"Mmm, that's right. Now be a good girl and come for me. Let me see that pretty face of yours when ya' come over ma' belt"

You let out a shaky breath, juices spilling over his jeans even as you see stars. He chuckles, enamoured at the sight.

"You gonna need help with that?" you point out his boner.

Oh, aren't you a doll? So kind-hearted.

"That's okay" he breathes out, tiredly. He thinks of the next trip to the bathroom, the image of what he'll fuck himself to clear now.

You smile at him, for the first time forgetting this started as a blowing-off-steam-time or transaction.

For a moment, it feels like it could be.

"Jus' seein' you cum all over me so prettily is'nough, baby"

credits: divider @kodaswrld / gif @loregifs

[peanutalergy]

stray cat ꨄ s.r. × reader

in which spencer reid sneaks into fem!reader's room at night

tags: high school au !! no explicit content duh ? tooth rotting fluff in a brain rottingly terrible written way, reader is a cheerleader and like a popular girl ? idk I'm a sucker for the popular × nerd trope; not canon accurate obviously because if it were spencer would be twelve and bullied by everyone; mentions of blood and cuts and weapons and getting hurt but not in the way you might think ..?; reader's dad is mentioned ? yeah anyway idk what else sorry

w/c: 2k (this was meant to be a blurb ?)

a/n: okay so I found this draft from last year (back when I was still in hs (r.i.p.)) and I decided to finish it because it seemed cute. turned out terrible I hate it whatever, it's very ooc idk sorry ALSO inspired by a situation I lowkey went through myself hence why there's things spencer would never say/do, sorry

you’re sitting in bed with your computer atop your thighs, stressing over the third essay you have to finish by the weekend, when you hear a noise coming from outside. you ignore it, at first, thinking it's just a raccoon or a stray cat, until you hear a very human grunt from right beneath the window. immediately, you jump to grab the small—and frankly, quite useless—knife that you always keep in your bedside drawer in case of an intrusion or something of the sort.

you pull out your phone, contemplating dialing 911, until you see spencer's head pop up at the window. putting down the "weapon", you run across the room to open it, laughing confusedly as your boyfriend stumbles in. you help him inside, taking his hand in yours, which he holds onto like he might fall right now from right here.

you open your mouth, but he starts mumbling breathlessly before you even get the chance to say anything.

“i don't know what i was thinking, i’m never doing that again. i don't think just reading the stealthy guide to climbing roofs was enough, i mean, the writer didn't even take into consideration everything that could've went wrong. do you know how many terrible things could have happened? i could have fallen and broken my neck, someone could've seen me and called the police, or– doesn't your dad have a shotgun? do you think he heard me? god, i'm all dirty, i’ve got leaves all over me, i don't–”

you press a quick kiss to his lips, the most effective way you've found to shut him up. when you pull away, he's frozen, trying to catch his breath, cheeks rosy from the physical exercise–something he doesn't usually engage in–and from your touch, as well.

“what are you doing here?”

“sorry…” he mumbles, staring down at his fingers as they fidget with the sleeves of his cardigan, “i wanted to see you. did i wake you up?”

“oh, baby” you giggle, patting away the dirt and leaves from his body gently, “don't apologize, i'm glad you're here. i wasn't asleep, don't worry. you scared me, though. i thought someone was breaking in.”

“oh, i'm sorry, i didn't want to scare you, i’m really sorry. i should've called you.”

“no, don't worry. it's okay. it’s a nice surprise.”

“yeah…?” he asks, glancing up at you hesitantly.

“mhm.” you nod before taking his face in your hands. he tilts his head, leaning into your touch, similar to an animal who wants to be pet, but doesn’t know how to ask for it. you chuckle and give him another kiss, your fingers moving up and tangling in his hair.

“why did you go through the window, though? you could've just knocked on the door, my dad doesn't have a shotgun. he's a sweet little old man, he would've let you in just fine.”

“i don't know, i was scared. i'm sorry.” he says shyly. he's blushing furiously, heart almost jumping out of his ribcage, and it doesn't have anything to do with the adrenaline from the climb anymore.

“no, it's okay. you're fine, it's fine. are you hurt, though?”

“i- uh, i hurt my hands a bit, but it's nothing major, i’ll be fine.”

“aw, you poor thing. lemme see.” he looks down at his palms, and you take them in your hands to see they're all scraped, red and raw, blood mixing with some of the dirt. “jesus, spence. we should get that cleaned up, no?”

“no, no, it's fine. we– it's okay, we don't need to, i'll be fine.” he tries to pull his hands away, but your grip on his wrists doesn't let him, and he lets out a shaky exhale.

“hm, no, c'mon, that's gonna get infected or something. then your hands will get necrosis and fall off. do you want your hands to fall off, baby?”

he shakes his head, and you can tell he's holding back a chuckle, “well, that– that's not really how necrosis works, but–”

“no, it is, shut up.” you cut him off and give him a playful nudge, “please, just a few band-aids?”

he looks at you reluctantly, and after a second, he sighs and finally nods, “sure. but just because you're worried. i wouldn't get necrosis either way.”

you giggle and press your lips to his again. as you pull away and walk to the closet, you point to your bed and mumble, “go sit down,” which he does immediately, settling awkwardly at the edge of it.

while you search for the first aid kit, you notice spencer looking around your room with a smile. he's been here a few times before, but never at night, and he finds awe in the way the moonlight reflects off a mirrorball that sits on your desk, and the way your posters look when the only other source of lighting comes from a few vanilla scented candles.

it’s actually quite ironic how much you two fit together. no one would have to look at you twice before guessing your interests, and they'd be right if they were to say things like pop music and cheesy 2010s romcoms; but there's a side of you, a side only spencer reid has ever met, that matches him perfectly.

after a while, you walk back to the bed, little box in hands, and you sit down on the ground in front of him, looking up at him with a smile.

“please, don't sit on the floor.” he murmurs as you settle between his legs.

“why not? it's clean.” you mumble as you start rummaging through the first aid kit.

“no, but, you're– this is– just… it'll hurt your back.”

“it won't, though, don't worry.” you give him a smile, and before he can protest again, you put out your hands, “gimme.”

he gives you his wrists once more, where you hold as you begin gently wiping his palms with antiseptic. he winces at first, and tries to hold back a noise so as to not worry you even more.

“what were you thinking about?” you ask. he answers with a hm?, that makes you say it again, “when i got back. you looked like you were thinking about something.”

“oh, just… your room.”

“what about it?”

“it's so… you. i mean, the space in which one lives does tend to be a reflection of themselves, but… it's like you took everything that makes you yourself, and you spread it all around the place. it's adorable... like you.” he mumbles awkwardly.

you chuckle, looking around the room, glancing at him, then turning your attention back to his hands. this time, when the wipe touches his raw skin again, he hisses. “ooh, sorry, that hurt? i’m sorry, baby. i’m trying to be gentle, i swear.”

he shakes his head. “no, you're being gentle–” very gentle, more than anyone had ever been to him before, “–it's just the alcohol. it- uh… alcohol molecules activate the same nerve receptors in your skin that let you know hot is hot, so it burns. it's chemical. you're being very gentle, don't worry, it's not you.”

you hum, smiling and nodding, before you both go quiet. he's staring down at you as you work, brows furrowed as you concentrate on his hands. “y'know, i could've done this myself,” he mumbles.

“mm, yeah, well, we could do it all by ourselves. we'd be miserable, though, no?”

he's quiet for a second, thinking about a way to deny that, but when he can't find one, he just mutters a soft yeah and goes silent again.

scared of the situation getting too awkward, he starts rambling on about his day, telling you all things he believes you’d find interesting as you listen and nod and hum along and laugh. it's like he doesn't notice the words coming out of his mouth when they do, “i missed you at school today.”

“oh, i’m sorry, honey. i, uh– i wanted to talk to you at lunch, but, i– i wasn't sure you'd want to see me. i don't know, i didn't know if you'd want to be around the girls, and they wouldn't leave me alone, so... i didn't want to make you uncomfortable.” you say, looking at him between placing band-aids.

“of course i would've wanted to see you. yeah, your friends are… a lot. i think they don't really like me. but i don't mind being around them, if it means being around you.”

“no, they like you. don't worry about that, they like you."

“they sure have a strange way of showing it”

“yeah, well, they're– they look a bit, like, uhm… mean girls, but they're not. they're nice. they're just a bit... vain and shallow.”

“vain and shallow usually means mean girls.” he whispers with a chuckle.

“nah, not really. just means boring. to be fair, you're much cooler than them.” you answer with another laugh, to which he shakes his head in disbelief, right as you finish bandaging his hands.

you place two gentle kisses to his palms, which you can notice makes his breath hitch a little, and you put the kit to the side. you shuffle closer to him and tilt your head, resting it on his knee and smiling up at him, “i missed you, too.”

he nods and tucks a strand of your hair behind an ear, his touch lingering at your jaw. there's another moment of quiet, in which you just stare at each other, grinning. he looks at you and touches you almost as if you're not real, almost as if he's convinced this isn't actually happening.

he can't help but be fascinated by the intimacy of this moment. a few months ago, he had never even been looked at for more than a few seconds, and now he's doing staring contests with the captain of the cheerleading team, in her room, at night.

sure, the people at school still see him as a loser, but that doesn't matter to him. all he cares about is you. you're here, holding and taking care of him, looking at him like he's worth something. that's all that matters right now.

“hi.” you break the silence, though barely, your voice a quiet whisper.

“hi.” he whispers back with a smile, “please, will you get up from the floor…?”

you chuckle and stand up again, him being sat allowing you to press a kiss on his forehead while your fingers run through his hair. when you do so, he wraps his arms around your legs and burrows his face into your stomach, letting out a noise, almost a purr as he nuzzles against you like a kitten.

after a while, he pulls his head away to look around the room again, and his gaze falls on the laptop that had been sitting in your bed this whole time, the essay abandoned. "when is that due?"

"history class on friday."

"i could help you with it, if you want."

"no, no, no, you don't have to. don't worry. i'll get it done... sometime." you say with a chuckle.

he nods–he woke up the next morning and finished it for you while you got ready–and hides his face back in your shirt.

“are you sleeping over?” you ask, and it makes him lift up his head to look at you once more.

“can i?” he mutters reluctantly, “i don't want your parents to wake up, and see– y'know… a boy in your bed. and we've got school tomorrow, so…”

“do you want to sleep over?”

“mhm” he hums with a nod, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of your shirt.

“my parents won't mind, then.”

“are you sure? i mean, teenagers are–” he starts rambling again, and you shut him up with another kiss.

“my parents won't mind.” you repeat after pulling away, leaving another peck on his nose, “and we can just skip school tomorrow. it’s gonna be boring, anyway. we don't even have any classes together. we can spend the whole day here, yeah?”

“okay, yeah.” he mumbles under his breath, trying not to look too nervous.

you smile and lie down on the bed. he immediately follows suit and curls up next to you, face buried in your chest, arms around your waist, leaning into your touch and clinging to you like you'll be gone if he lets go. “i love you,” he whispers, his warm breath against your skin sending tingles down your spine.

“i love you” you whisper back, placing yet another kiss on the crown of his head. it's not long after you start running your hands through his hair that he falls asleep.

and in the end, you realize that, in a sense, it actually was a stray cat at your window.

[juleswritesstuff]

Starving

Basically, just Theo being the munch that he is.

theodore nott x fem!reader

warnings: smut

Enjoy💗

You had always hated Herbology with a deep passion.

Not the plants per se, those were rather fascinating to observe, but did they really need to have such a vast variety of species ? Was it actually necessary ?

Apparently it was, or Mrs Sprout wouldn't have given you a whole 600 words essay to write on every type of mandrake known to man.

Those screaming little things got on your nerves, and you could barely understand what the professor was talking about while tending to them. Hence, you were finding it extremely difficult to complete that paper.

The door of your dorm room suddenly opened and you had to restrain a curse from slipping through gritted teeth.

You had really hoped to not get interrupted.

Apparently your prayers weren't heard.

“You busy, dolcezza ?” (sweetie)

A more than familiar voice reached your ears. You lifted your eyes from your paper and they landed on none other than Theodore Nott, who was standing right in front of your door, now closed again, with a faint smirk plastered on his face. 

You rolled your eyes. You knew that little grin all too well.

“Kind of, yeah” you replied, your attention going back to the paper in front of you as you started scribbling again with your quill “Aren't you ? Have you already finished your essay ?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Just turned it in, so I have some time to kill” he said with that cocky attitude of his.

Infuriating and charming at the same time, truly unfair.

“Good for you, then. I don't, so if you could leave me to it, it would be much appreciated” you said as a forced smile curved your lips.

“Oh, come on. You don't even have a little time ? Per me ?” he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side with the most innocent expression he could master. (For me ?)

Which didn't work because his eyes screamed trouble.

Theo looked like an angel with his brown hair curled in soft locks and eyes as blue as the ocean, although dead and emotionless looking.

Actually, he was the devil in disguise. Especially when he acted all coy like this.

“No Theo, I really don't have time for your little antics today” you said huffing.

‘His little antics’ being eating you out till tears rolled down your cheeks and your mascara was smudged and unsalvageable. 

You and Theo were ‘friends’. You got along just fine, you talked, and you bickered like there was no tomorrow. It was part of your friendship, the teasing, the little harmless jokes. It was routine for the two of you.

What was also routine was the flirting. 

Shameless and obvious flirting.

You never thought it would lead anywhere. You were so used to the little Italian endearments he gave you and the ever present smirk on his lips that you didn't really think anything of it.

Until one night, after one of the biggest parties that Slytherin had ever thrown, you ended up in his bed, with him between your legs eating you out like his life depended on it.

You didn't even know how you found yourself in that situation, you just knew that you hadn't minded one bit.

You ended up with shaky legs and a dizzy brain just by his tongue alone.

Saying that you didn't mind it would've been an understatement.

The day after was awkward as hell, but you both were too direct and honest to not deal with the weird atmosphere immediately.

So you decided to add some…privileges to your relationship. 

You discovered Theo had quite an oral fixation. 

He needed to keep his mouth occupied with something.

Cigarettes were a great way to keep his mouth busy, but they were extremely damaging for his health.

You didn't mean to make him stop smoking, you knew it would've been basically impossible, and, if you had to be completely honest with yourself, he looked so damn hot with those death traps between his lips, but you wanted to at least try to reduce the amount of nicotine that went into his body.

And what better way than to bribe him with the second thing he loved the most in the world ?

Eating you out seemed to be his favorite hobby.

Anytime he felt the need to light one cigarette more than necessary he came to you, with that sinful smirk on his lips and the hottest ‘fuck me’ eyes he could master.

And who were you to say no ? 

You had proposed the deal in the first place.

Plus, he was amazing at it too. The way his tongue worked on your cunt definitely felt like ascending to heaven.

But now you really didn't have the time.

“I'm not here because I feel like smoking, Y/n” he said walking up to you and stopping in front of the desk, leaning forward a little as he supported his weight with his hands on the table. 

You made the mistake of lifting your eyes from the parchment and locking them with his. His gaze was magnetic. Once those pools of stormy sea caught you, you couldn't escape.

“Then why are you here ?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

“Cause I'm starving, bambolina” he uttered with the calmest and most unaffected tone in his voice. (babydoll)

You narrowed your eyes.

“Then you should be in the kitchen to solve that little problem, don't you think ?” you asked rhetorically, eyes going back to focus on the parchment in front of you.

You heard him scoff, and suddenly he was leaning so much closer.

Your head was still hung low, trying to write that damn essay, but his presence was distracting as hell and you couldn't help but shiver when he leaned to whisper in your ear.

“You're right, that would be the perfect solution if I was hungry for food” he stopped and you could feel the teasing smile plastered on his face.

“But all I'm craving is you and that pretty little cunt of yours, so I don't think the kitchen elves could really help me with that”

You wished you could say his words didn't affect you, you really wished.

But the sudden warmth on your cheeks and the unconscious clench of your legs told another story.

You really didn't have time for this, but your body was craving him and his touch like crazy, and you weren't sure you would've been able to focus if you didn't feel his tongue working its wonders on you.

So you sighed and pushed the chair you were sitting on a bit farther away from the desk, enough to take your knickers off and throw them somewhere behind you, then you sat back, your skirt still covering you up until your mid thighs.

His eyes darkened with lust.

“Make it quick, I have an essay to finish” you said, faking indifference.

On the inside you were burning alive.

“Quick ? It's like you don't know me at all, dolcezza” he said with a scoff as he sank to his knees, crawling until he was right in front of you.

His gaze locked in yours as his hands made contact with the bare skin of your legs, caressing them gently, tenderly.

“I'll take my sweet time with you. Ora fai la brava and open those gorgeous legs for me” you hated how fast you complied, but with the way he was looking at you you really couldn’t help yourself. (Now be good) 

He lifted your skirt and he leaned forward.

As soon as his tongue made contact with your folds you melted.

You choked out a whimper, and you could feel him smirk right against your groin.

"Wipe that grin off your face, Nott, I'm only -ah fuck, I'm only doing it because you begged me” you said as he kept lapping at your core with his tongue, wrapping his lips around your clit to give it a gentle suck.

The moan that rippled out of you was almost pornographic.

“Piccola bugiarda, you know that's not true. You're doing it because you want it too” he moved his mouth from your cunt to your thighs, giving feather light kisses on the sensitive skin. (Little liar)

“You're so wet, you didn't think I would notice ?” he asked with that fucking cocky attitude that made you go crazy.

“Shut up and put that mouth to a better use” you said, but the bite in your voice was definitely toned down by the urgency and neediness of having his mouth back where you needed him the most.

His head tilted to the side as he leaned back just the tiniest bit.

“What's with the attitude, uh ?”

“No, no, no, -shit Theo. Come back here” you said, almost whining.

He was too far, and you needed him.

You needed him closer, way fucking closer.

“E come si dice ?” he teased, his eyes were dark and fogged up by lust and hunger. (And what do you say ?)

“Fuck, why do you always want me to beg ?” you asked, defeated. He leaned forward again, his breath hovering right above the tender skin as you clenched around nothing, feeling the loss of his tongue.

“Because it's fun, I love it when you beg me with that sweet mouth of yours. Plus I like seeing you flustered” he said as he started to kiss every inch and nook of your most sensitive area, avoiding where you really wanted him to.

You wanted to curse so bad, but you knew that was not what he wanted, what he needed.

“Theo -fuck. Please Theo, just touch me. Please” you surrendered, your voice whiny and broken, until a melody of moans and whimpers started to ripple out of your lips as soon as his mouth met your folds again.

And this time he didn’t stop.

He lapped at your juices like a starved man enjoying his meal for the first time in days.

He licked, and sucked, and kissed every centimeter, every inch of tender skin like he was born to do that.

Your hands buried in his soft brown locks and you tugged at them unconsciously after a particularly good roll of his tongue made you see stars.

“Cazzo, se continui così verrò nei pantaloni porca puttana” he said, hissing. His mouth kept working wonders on your cunt, his groans creating delicious vibrations on your clit. (Fuck, if you keep this up I'll come in my pants, holy shit)

“Ancora” he said between ravenous licks and delicate, teasing sucks, guttural moans leaving his lips. (Again)

“What ?” you asked, lost in pleasure. Your little knowledge of the Italian language became nonexistent when he was busy making you cry on his tongue.

“Again, baby. You know i fucking love it” he says, mouthing the words right against your core.

And so you obeyed, tugging at his hair again, a little rougher, a little harder.

A low groan left his lips.

You were close, you were so fucking close.

“Shit, Theo, baby” you moaned out loud, the term of endearment completely slipping out.

Theo seemed to notice, because he started to go faster, tongue flicking desperately at your folds.

Your breath got caught in your lungs, your ears rang and your sight turned black as you got hit by pleasure.

The hand on his hair kept Theo close as you rode your orgasm on his tongue.

He lapped at your juices carefully, to not overstimulate you, leaving sweet butterfly kisses on your thighs, worshiping the skin with his lips.

Once your breathing started to go back to normal and your sight was not blurry from the pleasure anymore you looked at him.

He was still kneeling in front of you, a teasing smile tugging at his lips as his eyes focused on your face.

“You look quite disheveled, principessa” he said with a chuckle, pride oozing from his features for reducing you in that state. All fucked out and breathless. (princess)

“Oh, yeah ? And whose fault is that ?” you asked in mocking shock, but you couldn't help a chuckle from escaping your lips.

“And you're one to talk” you added as you took in his appearance. His eyes were still quite foggy and unfocused, his hair a mess from all the tugging, and his lips.

Oh, his lips. Red and shiny with your essence and the tiniest bit swollen.

He looked too fucking good to be true.

You knew you folded too easily when Theo was involved, but you couldn’t help it.

“I told you I was starving, you underestimated my eagerness to fucking devour you” he said with a shrug, wetting his lips to savor your taste once again, like his words didn’t make you feel like you were catching fire.

That mouth of his was a menace, physically and metaphorically.

“I’m never gonna be able to finish this stupid essay now” you said almost desperately.

He laughed at your pathetic whining, but it was a warm laugh, not one made to mock you but one that was closer to endearment.

“Was it so good that it melted your brain off ?” he asked with that cocky grin of his.

You looked at him with a deadpan expression.

“Your overly confident attitude never fails to amaze me, Theodore Nott '' you said with a chuckle. You straightened your posture on the chair, smoothing out all the wrinkles that he had left from fisting your skirt and holding on for dear life to keep your hips still.

“Now I don’t want to kick you out, but I really need to finish this”

“No need for that, tesoro, I’ll leave you to it. Wouldn’t want to distract you too much” he said, getting back up on his feet and tucking a rebellious strand of your hair behind your ear.

“See you at dinner ?” he asked. 

You simply nodded your head yes.

His hand was still gently caressing your cheek, the pads of his fingers were as light as a feather as they danced on your skin.

His eyes were locked in yours, and you had no idea of what was happening.

Until his fingers reached your chin, tilting your head up the slightest bit. 

Then he leaned in.

For the first time since you had started this ‘arrangement’ his lips met yours.

And they were sweeter than you thought, gentle, but there was an undertone of hunger, of neediness that you couldn’t ignore.

He tasted of nicotine and butter beer, bittersweet and addicting.

His lips were slightly chapped but you couldn’t care less about it as his tongue swiped on your bottom lip, his teeth grazing at it gently right after as he carefully bit the plump skin.

He pulled back slowly and you were left speechless.

He just chuckled at your wide eyes and agape mouth.

“Good luck on your essay, ok ? I’ll see you tonight” he left a quick kiss on your cheek before storming out of the door with a smile on his face.

Your thoughts were all over the place, because what the hell had just happened ?

Did Theodore Nott just kiss you ?

Something a little different from my usual marauders content, but he's been stuck in my brain for weeks now, and I couldn't help myself 😔

And honestly, as an Italian girl, I really think Lorenzo Zurzolo should be classified as a national treasure, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[octoberautumnbox]

Consider: Yubin who's your seatmate and is very professional in school but every night at 10pm you get the raciest, sauciest, spiciest nudes from her with no warning

Hell Week

tripleS Gong Yubin & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: smut, that's p much all anyone needs to know i think

Word count: 5.5k holy shit

a/n: jeez howd it get this long :nolookk: oh btw i took some liberties with the prompt not that u care heres the fuckin yubin fic :DDDD

~~~

A hand lays itself on your shoulder, the sudden contact nearly making you jump. You turn around and find Yubin clutching a book to her chest with a gentle look on her features. Gesture over to the chair across from you, all the while trying to get your heart rate back under control. 

“My bad, didn't see you were locked in.” She gets into the chair left of you anyway and turns her book to the same page as yours. “How's it going?”

You stretch and groan to let out as much of your tiredness as you can, paying just a bit of mind to everyone else in the library doing pretty much the same. “Dunno. Around twenty minutes ago I accepted I'm retaking this class. What's up with you?”

She giggles while her eyes scan across the paragraphs talking about desert flora and types of precipitation. She rests her cheek on her palm, “I still have a bit of fight in me, but I'm losing hope. I was hoping I could borrow some from you.”

“Sorry, Yubin,” you whisper with every ounce of sympathy you had, “fresh out.” You return to your own book, yet all you do is run your eyes over the same page over and over without much staying in your head. 

A cursory look over to your left shows you scholar-mode Gong Yubin: focused, sharp, and serious. Not that it ever got in the way of you two being friends, but when she gets like this, you know better than to underestimate her–she's capable of plotting the downfall of kingdoms if she set her mind to it. 

However, at the same time, you notice her distress, then immediately notice how well she hides it. It's the same slight crease of her eyebrows in freshman orientation, after midterms in Linguistics 103, and when she finally stopped putting off Geology 102. The realization dawns on you: the situation is dire now that she asks for your help while she's like this, so how could you let her down now?

“Bet you I can score higher,” you challenge her. You have no good reason to issue such a proposition, but if it means giving her support how it matters, whatever embarrassing thing she'll make you do is more than worth it.

It piques her interest and a smile pulls up the corners of her lips. She side-eyes you with an excitement she didn't have just two minutes prior, and you know it worked. “If I win,” she announces as loud as she's allowed to, “make me thick tofu stew. The right way.” 

“Really? That's it?” Then you rebut with just as much fervor, “If I win, you do three of my essays in comparative lit next semester.”

“Now hold the fuck on,” she stumbles, her eyes grown wide and her smile grown toothy, “if you're gonna raise the stakes like that, I need to think of something else!”

Your phone and hers vibrate at the same time, and your screen reads “Get your ass over to Geog.” You both pack your bags and head off to your last Geology class before finals together, and as your book takes its place in the darkness of your backpack, “Fine, but I get to change mine too when I hear yours,” and the spring in her step as you walk tells you it's mission accomplished. 

~~~

In hindsight, it really wasn’t all that bad. The class review session your professor held that day helped you nail down just enough of whatever the fuck sleet might be, and while you're certain it isn't flying colors, your grade at least wouldn't be red. 

Coming out of the exam room, you spot Yubin just seconds before she finds you, and your good deed pays for itself as she skips to approach. 

“Got a good feeling?” There was no point in asking other than that you had to hear it from her, though the wide grin on her face was proof enough. 

“Yeah, I think barely,” she sways cutely from side to side, “and don't think you're off the hook!” She hits you light on the arm, and the most shining feature you can’t ignore is her eyebrows without any sign or symptom of the crease. 

“Not over ‘til the fat lady sings, Gong Yubin,” though you know she's already won. “Three whole essays against… Haven't you decided yet?”

“No, not yet, but the bet is still on!”

You relent, “Fine, fine. Anyway, Nakyoung’s treating the gang to drinks tonight. Wanna come?”

“Nah, busy. Laundry and stuff.” She shifts her weight from foot to foot, and you can tell she’s giddy about what her grade is going to turn out to be. It’s a sight for sore eyes, especially ones that have seen too many grainy tectonic plates and water cycle diagrams. “And why do you insist on full-naming her?”

“I know someone whose name sounds the exact same. As far as I’m concerned, our Nakyoung’s the other Naky.” You place your hand on the small of her back and lead her away from the doorway, and she walks with you without a second thought.

“Mean. You’ll have to introduce me to this first Naky, then.” You slide into rhythm with her gait, and it hits you just how relieved you are for Yubin’s worries to be over. 

It seems such a waste, you think, that laundry is the only thing keeping her away from celebrating, so as you walk out of the Social Sciences building, you bargain one more time: “We’ll be there all night, so just come by when you’re done. I speak for everyone when I say we want you to come, please?”

She giggles again, “I’ll see what I can do. It’s not like I don’t wanna be there, either. Plus,” she admits defeatedly, “we’re getting the results later, and God knows I’d rather not be alone when it comes.” 

~~~

“Hey, where's Yubin?” Nakyoung slings an arm around your shoulder and shoves another mug of beer into your hand. It's a welcome gesture, and it takes all of two and a half seconds for you to down half of it. 

“She has laundry,” you nearly shout back your reply above the music. “Said she'll drop by if she has time.”

Nakyoung makes to yell another reply right into your ear, but decides to pull you away into one of the quieter booths in the bar. “She's a goody-two-shoes, no? Laundry, oh please. Kaede hasn't done laundry in two years.” She takes a gulp of her own beer and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“Hey. She studied her ass off for that test. I made a bet with her and it looks like she has high spirits, but I honestly dunno what I'd do if she fails.”

Your friend takes your chin up with her finger and you realize how pensive an expression was sitting on your face. “This is Gong Yubin. You know she'll kill it.” Nakyoung flashes a confident smile, and it reassures you almost more than your own trust in Yubin herself. “You drunk yet?”

“Nah, not getting shitfaced without Yubin.”

“Cute. You know she likes you too?” 

“Go fuck yourself, Nakyoung. Go steal Seoyeon's boyfriend while you're at it.”

“I wish; she has him under lock and key. But I wouldn't really mind both of them,” she muses, eyeing Seoyeon in the middle of the dancefloor. 

Just then, the devil strolls in through the front door. “Hi! You weren't kidding, it's really loud in here,” Yubin exclaims with her hands shielding her ears as she adjusts to the noise.

She takes Nakyoung's seat–you whip your head around and find Nakyoung at the dancefloor, with Seoyeon grinding against her–and picks up Nakyoung's old mug. She takes a careful sip and ends it with a relieved ahhhh, before setting it back down and getting to business. She leans in like keeping a secret, though she can't hide her toothy grin. “Have you seen your grade yet?”

“It's out?!” You fumble for your phone, and the second it lights up, cold runs through your veins–the email notification is the first thing at the top of the screen. Meanwhile, Yubin calmly slides her phone across the table to you. She asks “I read yours, you read mine?” with the sweetest smile on her face, again with the slight crease on her eyebrows.

Calm your nerves, silence the alarms blaring in your head. You know she did well, absolutely certain. However, it still doesn't soothe you enough; not until you see the grades for yourself. So, as your thumb hovers over her email, your heart nearly beats out of your chest, only to see–

“You got 87 percent,” Yubin states in the blandest, matter-of-fact tone you've ever heard. Her eyes move left and right over the same spot on your phone, making ultimate certain that she's reading it right. Once she is, her tone softens just enough, “Yeah, 87 percent. Wow, that's good,” she sighs with relief, “... Hard to beat.”

Now her turn, you peek at her score. doing the same making sure, and then some. When you read it for the fifth time, you kick yourself mentally for being so worried and having such little trust in the genius that is Gong Yubin. “Goddamn, 95 percent.”

Her eyes widen like sinkholes as her hand flies to cover her mouth. It almost doesn't matter that you hand her back her phone; she snatches it back anyway. Her disbelief chips away at itself with every run through of the email she reads for herself, and when she's finally done, returns her shocked gaze back to you.

“You were that scared of three essays?” you joke. The beer tastes sweeter now that your worries have gone, and as if all six septillion kilograms of the world is off your shoulders. 

“No, three essays is easy,” she taunts, but immediately her voice takes on a gentler tone, “so I win, right?”

You scoff at her haughtiness, but your relief triumphs over all. “Yeah, whatever. What do you want?”

“... I wanna go home. This is enough excitement for one day.”

“Alright, let me take you. Tell me in the cab what you want for winning, though?”

“Sure,” she says with a tiny smile.

~~~

“So,” she declares. She catches her breath, and her face is overcome with a subtle red flush, “about the bet.”

“Yeah, about the bet.”

“I want…” and she hesitates. The cab runs over a mild speed bump, and the resulting sway seemingly knocks her completely out of focus. She gathers her resolve once more, as if every time she tries to speak she drops it and has to pick it up again. 

“You want…?”

It's a good couple minutes of her breathing heavily, and your concern shows itself for her and whatever she has planned for you.

“Is it illegal? What could possibly be so bad that you're hesitating this much?”

“No, no, shut up. I'm working on it.” She takes one last deep breath, even placing a hand on her heart to steady it. “I want… a cum tribute.”

“... A cum tribute.”

“Yes.”

“You want me to…?”

“I'll send you a photo. And do it on that.”

“You want a photo of–”

“Video.”

“You–video?”

“I want a video. Of you. Cumming on a photo. My photo. I'll send it to you.”

There's no way the cab driver doesn't think this is weird. Then again, he has an earphone in, so he might not be listening in at all. You get the feeling Yubin doesn't care either way, completely focused on you. 

“... Alright. You want it this bad, fine.”

“Good. Um,” she follows, “sorry in advance. It's gonna be my first time… taking a photo like this.” She refocuses her attention to the buildings whizzing by outside as she says it, the telltale sign the conversation is over. Still, it lingers in your head for a little while: Yubin's first time. 

~~~

“Look, I'm sorry,” she sighs, “just come up with me? Please?”

You're standing with her outside her dorm, all the while the meter ticks away in the cab. The driver waits expectantly inside for you to get back, but Yubin's fingers wrapped around your sleeve make for a very difficult decision. 

“Okay, okay, just let me pay the cab driver,” you concede, but as soon as you sum up the fare, Yubin snatches it from you and brings it over herself. She and the driver exchange a few words, ending with her waving him off and him leaving her in the dust. She waddles back with her signature grin: the one that tries and fails to hide her excitement. 

“Can I just ask why you want it so bad?”

She shakes her head, “Nope. Now shush,” as you both make the now-silent trek up the four flights of stairs to her floor and room. 

Upon entering, you immediately notice it's nicer than most dorm rooms: huge space, carpet floors, a big window, and two double-size beds, not to mention its own bathroom. It makes you stop and wonder if you ever glossed over any signs that Yubin or her family might come from old money.

“Uhh, give me a few minutes to get ready. The bed on the right is mine, make yourself at home. WiFi password by the light switch. Kaede doesn't like her stuff messed with, so steer clear.” Yubin then disappears into the bathroom, and you lay yourself down on her bed. You're made aware of how you sink comfortably into the memory foam, and of the disarming fragrance that wafts from her bedsheets and pillowcases. She's always smelled like this, you recall, but it's rather nice, you finally admit. 

“Hey,” Yubin attempts. She sits on the edge of her bed next to you, wearing a set of pajamas and no makeup at all. You always knew Yubin was a pretty girl, God knows how many times she's been asked out, but seeing her like this is new; her allure draws you in with a smile and an embrace. Shit, was Nakyoung right? Do you like her? 

“So… How do you want me?” She avoids your eyes and touches her fingertips together, a blush forming on her cheeks. 

“Do you… Do you have a tie?”

Her ears perk up, “Yeah, hold on,” and she retrieves a thin, striped necktie from her dresser. She places it around her neck, her fingers delicately maneuvering the fabric into an intricate-looking knot, and when she's done, she presents herself to you. 

“Take off your top, Yubin,” you tell her, and she hands you her phone with the camera already on. Point it at her, making sure the flash is off, and start taking pictures one by one. 

She pushes aside the tie and fiddles with the top button. It's effortless how she undoes it, and she pulls the collar apart to show you more of her. She unbuttons the next, then the next, all the while showing you her smooth skin. With half the buttons undone, she shows off her chest, showing nothing but skin underneath her top.

You take a moment to catch your breath, swallow your spit. “Are you sure about this, Yubin?” 

“Yeah… Just keep going, please.” She undoes her fifth button at the very bottom, revealing her midriff and making you salivate. Must be heaven to kiss her there, when she snaps you out of it, “Are you still taking pictures?” Am I that distracting?” Look up to her, find her with the same sweet smile on her face but with a new blush decorating her cheeks.

Her last button is her fourth, and it's undone before you know it. She keeps her pajama top on a little bit longer, covering her chest a little bit more, and finally she shrugs it off one shoulder. It's nothing but everything all at once, and the split second your self-control wavers is the exact moment you leap in.

You drop her phone somewhere on the mattress; both your hands grip her shoulders as your lips capture hers. She leans into the kiss, wrapping her fingers on the back of your neck, and tiny moans escape her amidst smooches that get louder the hungrier she gets. 

Pull the top off her other shoulder, and she finally strips it all off. However, you can't even enjoy the sight, not yet, as you draft down from her lips to her slender neck, leaving a trail of kisses on your way. She runs her fingers through your hair before holding you in place, all the while leading your free hand to her chest. 

She sucks air in through her teeth, “That's really good, just like that…” she moans as her head tilts to allow more access to her neck. The scent of her shampoo fills your nostrils and you feel yourself getting addicted, but not as much as to the softness of her skin. 

She pulls you down onto the bed, and you find yourself leaning over her. Yubin lies under you, watching you intently and waiting for what you'll do next. Her tie sits right in the valley of her tits, and it drives you wild. Take a nipple in between your teeth while you fondle her other breast. She breathes heavy in pleasure, wordlessly asking for more and more of your attention and love. Her fist closes on your hair as she pushes you further onto her chest, her other hand hopelessly tugging on your pants.

It's all the message you need from her: your pants go, then your underwear, then everything else. Your cock stands hard in her sights, and the way her fingers wrap around your length is nothing short of heaven. 

“Do… do you wanna do it with me?” Her question is purely innocent, without a single hint of malice in her voice. She rubs your shaft slowly, sending waves of tantalizing pleasure throughout your whole body.

“Do you have condoms?”

“... Kaede will forgive me.” She crawls down the ladder, picks out a square plastic wrapper from her roommate's dresser, and hurries to get back to you. The smile on her face as she comes up the ladder again is one of, if not the most beautiful things you've ever seen. 

You guide her as she puts the condom on you, and the sensation of her fingers gently unrolling the rubber along your length only makes you more impatient. Finally, you hook your fingers on the garter of her pajama bottoms, and she lifts her hips to accommodate you. The fabric slides off her so easily, revealing her long, smooth legs that she seems desperate to have you in between of. 

“Go easy, okay? I told you…” 

“Yeah, your first time. I'll take care of you,” you reassure her. Line up your throbbing cock against her slick heat, feel her palm on your cheek, watch her flash that killer smile again. She bites her lip, and while you know it isn't on purpose, it makes her look sexier all the same. 

Slide your cock into her, making sure to go slow. She shuts her eyes harder with every inch she takes of you, and when she moves her hands to your forearms and grips tight, it reminds you like a looping cycle: “Go easy, go easy.”

So you go slow and steady, staving off your lust for the woman giving herself to you. Each thrust into her sex is careful and calculated, though by the second you feel your calculations going awry. She pants at every good spot in her cavern you happen to drag across, earning her little admissions of newly found pleasure in the form of mewls and moans like a song you’d never tire of. 

“Faster, please…? You’re so–ugh, fuck…” And the way she pleads flips a switch in you; plant your elbows into the memory foam on either side of her head while she takes your face in her hands. Yubin pulls you in for a kiss and it means the world to her when you grow careless with your lovemaking.

“Fuck, fuck, not too fast, just right, mmm,” each time you push into her cunt. The way she mumbles sweet nothings into your ear, the way she holds on for dear life and leaves scratches all the way down your back, she takes up every single thought going through your head: Yubin, Yubin, Yubin…

You scarcely notice how she's scratching your harder, gripping you tighter, grinding against you faster–it’s much too late to finally hear her warning, “I'm close, I'm close, oh fuck, fuck, aaahhhh!” as she explodes with you still inside her. Her pussy clenches around your cock in all the best ways, and you savor the feeling as she rides out her orgasm. Her knuckles turn white as she grips you by the shoulders, though all you can see is how her tits bounce with every jerk that runs through her body. Yubin's eyes roll to the back of her head and her mouth hangs open, a prolonged, deep moan gracing your ears as she ambles closer and closer to spent. 

Take a moment, let her breathe. Every gasp of air in her lungs is like a blessing, and each one steadily brings her from beyond heaven back to you. Her hands fall to her sides as she pants out her delirium and replaces it with tiredness, and once she's stable she flashes you that killer smile again. It pulls on the corners of her mouth, showing the tiniest amount of teeth, though her eyes are nowhere near open. Plant a kiss on her cheek, then her neck, then receive her giggles once you stay and rest right on her pulse. 

“You good? Still alive?”

All she can do is nod, having had every last ounce of her strength sapped. She lays motionless under you, save for her chest rising and falling with her breathing, and you know she looks to you for comfort and security. You take another moment to bask in her afterglow; she's never looked more gorgeous. 

“Hey,” she whispers, and you swear it's the most tired you've ever heard her, or anyone for that matter. “You good?”

“Yeah, I'm okay. Are you sure you're good?”

“Yeah. Thank you.” She pulls you back down and plants a kiss on your cheek. Her lips linger for a second, as if she's taking in your scent made hers. You stay like this for a good while, just enjoying each other's presence, relishing in the warmth of a body that gave itself up for the other. You don't even notice when you slumped over onto the mattress beside her, but her head on your chest felt like the rightest thing in the world.

“We're not done, by the way,” she prods.

“What? Why not? Aren't you tired?”

“‘Tired’ isn't part of the bet. I still want that tribute.”

And you remember, you have a job to do, a debt to pay. It’s between your common sense and your lust for the hottest girl in the world right now, and there is a clear winner. 

Pull back from her, off of the bed, and plant your feet on the floor. Firm and resolute, tell her: “Fine, on your knees.” The flush on her face deepens to an igneous red, and she scrambles to the floor in front of you.

“You're so pretty, Yubin,” you muse as you point her camera back to her face. Make sure the flash is off, and once you push the big red button to record, your other hand immediately takes her cheek and guides her to your tip. 

Yubin's eyes flutter shut as she inches her lips closer and closer to your cock. The first contact is heavenly; just gentle kisses and licks from a complete novice pretending to be an expert at this sort of stuff. The way her tongue glides over your shaft, the way she plants kisses all over your cock with the tiniest sucks, the way she does all of this with her eyes gracefully shut makes for a killer video for her to get off to later. A blowjob from a girl like this comes once in a lifetime, so you resolve to give her everything she'd ever want from a tribute like this. 

A moan escapes you, and she picks up that she's doing it right. With your subconscious approval, the hand on her cheek pulling further her in, she takes your tip in her mouth. Her tongue works overtime in running all over the head, paying special attention to your slit, making absolutely sure her spit coats wherever she can reach. She takes in more and more of your shaft, pressing her tongue on the underside of your cock as she does, all the while her cheeks hollow out like her life depends on it. 

Tiny vibrations from her throat only add to the pleasure, sending shivers up your spine and your hand to the back of her head. For the first time, she opens her eyes, and the sight is something to behold: she looks up at you with the biggest, roundest, most pleading eyes, the epitome of cuteness if not for your cock she oh-so-diligently services to get what she wants. 

Yubin takes you in just a bit deeper, slightly turning her head and savoring the way your length fills her mouth, when you hit the back of her throat, causing her to gag. She pulls back abruptly as a tear forms in the corner of her eye, and you have half a mind to pull out entirely to make sure she's okay. Instead, she never lets you–she takes your cock again, shooting you another pleading look before she shuts her eyes and bobs her head onto your cock again and again. 

Luckily, you pick up on her message; Snake your fingers through her hair, grab a fistful, make her yours. A moan rises from her throat once again, and she steadies herself with her hands on your thighs in preparation. She's ready. 

Pull her in as far as she can take, and it's a good most of your shaft before she gags again. Offer her no breathing room, bob her head onto your cock over and over, all the while more of her slobber coats your length, some of it falling off her lips and onto her chest and lap. She never fights, only takes–soon the gagging is replaced by an obedient, rhythmic gluck-gluck-gluck than you're sure even she'd find hot if she could think straight. Instead, her phone picks up every sight and sound for her to enjoy later, while you both enjoy each other now. 

It's everything all at once: the sight of Gong Yubin's plump, sexy lips around your shaft, the feeling of her tongue relentlessly dragging over every inch of your cock, the sound of your tip meeting her throat again and again while her groans fight their way out. “Yubin… I'm close,” you confess, but with her eyes still shut and her tongue still going crazy all over you, you don't think she heard. So make the decision yourself: yank her hard off your cock, rub your shaft right against her delicious lips. Once she exits her daze, she takes your dick in her hand and rubs all across the length. Tears fall from the corner of her eyes and her lips give off the slightest tremble, but she's resolute in what she wants to earn from you. 

It takes no time at all until you reach your limit. It's the best handjob anyone has ever probably given, but it's that one last kiss from her, right on your tip, that sends you over the edge. One last groan, one last jerk, one last tug of her hair, and your orgasm hits. Your cum shoots out in ropes, all landing on her face and tits. She's determined to receive everything from you, so it's only right to give her exactly what she wants. She shuts her eyes again, but her mouth stays wide open to catch whatever she can of it–she never stops jerking you off even as your cum falls onto her eyelids, her nose bridge, her forehead, her chin. Yubin savors every moment and every drop, burning the memory of bliss into her mind as you coat her face with your love. 

Your orgasm finally dies down, and you realize just how much she squeezed out of you. You're sure no one has ever looked lewder, your cum smeared all over her face, yet she proves you wrong when she picks up a fingerful of it to take into her mouth. She licks her lips, apparently loving the taste, while you love the sight of her acting so sultry for you. 

Stumble back onto the bed, take Yubin with you. Both of you are out of strength, breathing heavy, and in the middle of processing that you just painted her face with cum–that she asked you to paint her face with cum. You barely notice the stars swirling in your eyes, but your sense of the situation comes back just quick enough to avoid things getting awkward. 

“I think I wanna shower, so you should wash up first,” you mumble, still staring at her beige ceiling, and you can feel she's panting and doing the same without even seeing her. 

Wordlessly she gets up and her carpet-muffled footsteps grow quieter as she heads to the bathroom. A door shuts, a handle creaks, a shower gushes to life. Your brain sits idle, making no attempts to form thoughts other than acknowledging the shower turning off and on while she bathes. It's calming in its own way, you suppose–taking a bath is one of the normalest things in the world–as if what you just did with her was a close runner-up. 

An unknowable amount of time passes, and a fresh, citrus-scented Yubin emerges from the bathroom again. She dries her hair with her towel as she makes her way to her hair blower, but not before shooting you a gorgeous smile and a head tilt to the bathroom to let you know it's your turn. 

~~~

Leaving the bathroom yourself, you find a dark bedroom, save only for a yellow lamp shining against a nearby wall. Yubin is sitting up in her bed and scrolling on her phone, and once she spots you, she beckons you over.

“Look, funny,” she whispers with a giggle, and she shows you a clip of a guy much too excited about a truck looking like Optimus Prime. 

“Yeah. Hey, listen, I'm pretty tired,” you attempt. In no way is this a lie, and you're sure she's tired too. You bet she wants nothing more than to finally go to sleep and end what should be a perfect night on a high note. 

“Totally,” she agrees, “come on in. It's cold.” She lifts up the covers and looks over to you expectantly. Not that it dumbfounds you, but it throws you for a slight loop; she literally just said it was cold. 

“Wh– I'm heading out, is what I mean. You should get your rest, too.”

Yubin's eyes take on a softer expression, “Oh, you're not staying over?”

“... Did you want me to?”

“Yeah…?”

Your eyes lock with hers for what seems like half a second and a million hours at the same time. You're stuck in place, still in a stalemate of a staring contest with her, and you're not sure even she knows what the two of you want out of the situation. Her expression turns into one of concern, and her arm holding up the covers falters just a bit. Fuck, you think, window's closing.

Make your choice, have no regrets. Get in the covers with her, and she lets them drop to snuggle up to you. Once the both of you settle, her head on your chest and yours on one of the fluffiest pillows in the world, she blurts out quietly: “You fucked up, you know.”

She navigates to her gallery and finds your video of her, and skips to a part near the end. “Your dumb ass stopped recording just as you were about to cum.” And the video did show that: Yubin rubbing your cock, eyes shut, tongue out and ready for your load, and the video stops. 

“Shit, sorry–” 

“This wasn't the bet. I wanted a cum tribute, not a facial. You need to send me a proper one,” she muses, “or take a proper video.”

Now that stuns you. You wonder how interesting her ceiling is for you to stare at it so much, but she snaps you out of it partway through by snaking a hand up your shirt and settling it right above your heart. Reciprocate–it only feels right–wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her even closer. An exhale from both of you, and one last exchange of words: 

“Okay. Tomorrow?”

“Can you go again that soon?”

“If it's you, of course.”

“Don't guys need to recharge?”

“... I'll handle it.”

~~~

[engie-ivy]

(Don't let the whole 'Sirius catches Remus with someone else'-thing fool you, this is just silly Fluff!)

@wolfstarmicrofic 22nd: Hope

593 words

Sirius catches Remus and Caradoc together... studying.

Study Date

“It's not what it looks like!”

“Well, I certainly hope not!”

“Please, let… Let me explain… I-”

“What has he got that I don't have?”

“Nothing!”

“Is he cleverer than I? Neater than I? Better company than I?”

“No, I swear Sirius, it's not you!”

“Excuse me if I find that hard to believe right now, Remus.”

“What's going on?” James asks, as Peter, Lily and he enter the common room to find Remus sitting on the couch, books spread out over the table, face flushed, with Sirius standing in front of him, hands on his hips, glaring down at Remus.

Without taking his glare off of Remus, Sirius replies. “I just caught Moony with Dearborn red-handed.”

“Planning pranks?” James asks.

“Going to Hogsmeade together?” Peter asks.

“Snogging?” Lily asks.

“Studying,” Sirius says.

Peter gasps, but then he blinks. “Wait, what?”

“No, no,” Remus quickly says. “We were just… just chatting and then…”

“Well, then someone must have hexed your backpacks,” Sirius says lightly. “For your History of Magic books to come out on their own and fly open exactly on the pages about the Great Goblin War, and for your essays on that exact topic to just appear.”

Lily looks from Remus to Sirius with a frown. “Sorry if this is a daft question, but what's so bad about Remus and Dearborn studying together?”

“That's actually an excellent question, Lilyflower,” Sirius replies. “You see, I've asked Remus many, many a time to study together, but it was always ‘no, I don't like studying with someone, I do better studying by myself, I have my own process, I don't study well with others’. Now, as it turns out, it was just me he didn't want to study with. And if there's something wrong with me, he should've just said so.”

“No, Sirius,” Remus shakes his head. “It's not you, it's me.”

“Yikes,” James grimaces.

“No, I… Oh, Merlin, I'm really mucking this up, aren't I?”

“I don't get it, Moony,” Peter chimes in. “What's the problem with studying with Padfoot? I mean, his notes are kinda messy, but he's hella clever.”

Lily gives Remus a pitying look. “Just try to explain. Why don't you want to study with Sirius?”

“Yes, Remus, try to explain, why don't you want to study with me?” Sirius echoes.

“Because you're too distracting!” Remus eventually exclaims. “Godric, Padfoot…” He takes a deep breath, letting it all out. “Look at you. How am I supposed to concentrate? With the way your hair falls over your face when you're writing, or the way you chew your quill when you're focused on a text, or that glint in your eyes when you think of something good… I literally walked into a wall yesterday because you smiled at me! How can you expect clever words to come out of my mouth with you sitting right next to me?”

Sirius blinks a couple of times. “You… You hella like me.”

Remus groans. “Of bloody course I hella like you, Pads!”

Sirius runs a hand through his hair, and Remus audibly groans again.

“You know,” Sirius says. “I really only want to study together because I like spending time with you so much.”

“Well,” Remus says hesitantly. “Maybe we can spend time together not studying?”

“They're literally roommates and in the same class,” Peter whispers. “They spend time together all the time?”

“Sssh,” Lily hisses, slapping Peter's arm. “You're ruining the moment!”

“Like this weekend maybe?” Sirius asks, his cheeks slightly flushed. “In Hogsmeade?”

“Yeah,” Remus replies, blushing fiercely. “That… That would be nice.”

[wroetojaw]

SIDEMEN BRUTALLY RANK MORE YOUTUBERS | H. Lewis

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

summary: cozy day in with your boyfriend and watching the sidemen

tags: fluff, w2s x reader

warnings: slight cursing (not really)

a/n: instead of doing my literature essay I completed this story hope you guys enjoy!! more stories and stories about other youtubers are coming soon! ⋆｡˚

-

“Welcome to MoreSidemen, where the Sidemen, talk badly, about other youtubers” Simon says as the others cheer jokingly.

You giggle quietly while watching the video, leaning back into your boyfriend’s arms. Harry said you were one of the people they ranked and asked if you wanted to watch it with him. And, of course, you agreed because who wouldn’t. You watch Harry as he gets up from the couch to go get a snack.

"You look good in this video by the way," you complemented him as your eyes wandered back to the screen. "I reckon I look good in every video, don't know what you mean..." He remarked. You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him when he sat back down next to you only to be grabed by the waist and pulled closer to him.

"They are our friends, so don't take any of these seriously," Simon continues with a disclaimer, knowing how the internet would react if he didn't. "Maybe not for much longer if I get ranked last for any of the nice ones." You say, half-accusingly glaring at Harry. He puts on a guilty look and shrugs.

"Which Youtuber would you most want backing you up in a fight, we have seven people." The said seven people then popped up at the bottom of the screen. It was you, Deji, Theo Baker, Callux, Danny Aarons, Randolph, and Calfreezy. “Oh shit, it’s my girlfriend oh no,” Harry says, putting his hands in his face. The guys laugh at him and Vik says, “someone’s sleeping in the dog house tonight.” "Bro you better watch what you say."

"Who'd you want most", "Well Deji has got to be number one", "Yea Deji number one," they say in agreement. "Hey! What about me," you say, turning around to pretend to punch Harry. He ducks out of the way and says, "Come on Y/N, he's literally a professional boxer". "Yeah well...I can throw a punch too." You grumble, turning back around to face the television.

"...Theo's up there because he's pretty w..." You hear your boyfriend say in the video. "I could take him down," you mutter. "I know you could okay Y/N," he says as he kisses the top of your head. The guys continue discussing their rankings, not once mentioning you at all. "Okay now hold on a sec, because I personally think Y/N could pack a punch you know, I feel like she's got the temper enough to take a bitch down." Simon reasons with the group.

"Remind me to give Simon a big hug the next time we see him." You say gleefully, happy someone finally recognized your strength. "Yeah, I agree. I think she has the ride-or-die kind of mindset because she will fight for you and what-not, god I love her." Harry says. You look up lovingly at him and kiss his cheek.

"So we're going Deji, Theo, Danny, Lux, Y/N, Freezy, Randy," they say as they list out their rankings. "Are we sure about Freezy and Randy?" Tobi asks, to which Harry responds, "Y/N loves getting into fights so yeah..." You glare at Harry, unsure if it was a compliment or not. "You know she's actually mad strong. The other time she accidentally turned around and elbowed my stomach and it had a huge bruise for a week," Josh added. "Does that mean you're just weak then?" Simon says. The lads just laughed and before Josh even tried to defend himself, Simon already started talking about the fan's rankings.

"Randy's third? And Danny's six?" Simon says in disbelief. "No way I think Randy and Danny swap," Harry says, he looks down the lists and sees you've been ranked at sixth. "Wait no way they voted Y/N as last. Guys have you seen her during our challenges, she would take a bitch down," Harry continues. You thanked him for 'defending your honor' and gave him a big smooch on the lips.

They continued to disagree with the fan rankings, but you honestly couldn't care less anymore. Knowing that your boyfriend thought you were tough and could hold your own was enough for you. You begin to dose off as the video continues playing, hearing Harry chuckle every now and then when his friends make a joke, as he combs your hair unconsciously.

However, one of the questions you hear as you fall asleep catches your attention. "Which youtuber is the most attractive?" You sit up, curious about what would be their rankings. The rest of boys in the video look at Harry, thinking that he would instantly say his girlfriend, but boy were they wrong. "Number one Callux," Harry says immediately. You both burst out laughing as he continues to try and correct himself, in the video, realising his girlfriend was also in the list. You pretended to act offended as Harry 'apologises profusely', peppering kisses all around your face. You couldn't help but giggle at your boyfriend's adorableness.

Laying back down in your boyfriend's arms as he wraps them tightly around you, with the video playing in the background, you look up at Harry, wondering how did you get so lucky and how much you love your life.

[tumblingxelian]

If I may ask with an open enough mind, might I hear out your thoughts on the character of Chloe Bourgeois? I don't expect an answer right out the gate so don't rush on my account. I'm merely trying to collect varying perspectives over what's become a uniquely controversial character.

Oh my that is a doozy of a question, I've debated no less than three separate videos on the topic and multiple essays to boot. Still, she's on my mind and the thing I am working on is obstructing me from modelling or writing but quires breaks to let stuff load so I have time for a longer ask:

So, what are my thoughts on Chloe Bourgeois?

Exactly where to start is rather tricky, so forgive any digressions or rambles.

Chloe is thematically the everyday reality of an Akumatized person.

What I mean by this is that Akuma victims are people in states of emotional distress, tribulation or trouble. Who thanks to the enabling of a power greater than themselves are both encouraged and enabled to lash out at others with borrowed power.

These people are meant to be sympathetic, their emotional tribulation taken advantage of, their situation, methods and thought process untenable. But they do need to be stopped from doing harm, and then healing needs to begin, with some effort made to redress the issue that led to them lashing out in the first place.

Akuma victims are the supernatural theme, Chloe is the reality.

Of course, some might claim she has no reason to have issues but...

Her mother is negligent and largely absent. The time they spent together prior to Queen Wasp, consisted of Chloe praising, giving gifts and trying to please Audrey. Only to be torn down, ignored, rejected or have her efforts disparaged. The woman doesn't even get her name right and the only means by which she earned even a scrap of approval was through being cruel. Something explicitly encouraged by the show's main character which is ???. 

Though it seems Audrey got bored with her fairly quickly regardless.

Audrey is unrelentingly hostile, selfish and cruel and encourages these traits in others and only avoids turning them on a person if they are sufficiently useful, or a match for her in viciousness. You are either her victim, her tool, or a conspirator. This is a hilariously awful parent, the damage she can do limited only by her sheer lack of interest.

Andre is somehow worse.

I am going to ignore the reading undertones of subtext into things but suffice to say that ratchets him up from just a bad parent to kill him with fire parent.

What we see with Andre is a man who explicitly taught Chloe to lie, cheat, intimidate, extort and bribe people to get what she wants. She is fourteen, and has been doing this since before she was in double digits. She's not bad because there's something innately wrong with her, she behaves badly because she's been explicitly taught that was the proper way to conduct herself.

We know full well Andre is capable of reigning Chloe in, be it gently in the Christa episode or with disciplinary action in Kung Food. However he only does this when it suits him, or her actions might cause him problems. For all his alleged affection for her, or her alleged influence on him, Chloe's always on the end of a leash Andre can and will tug back on the moment he feels like it.

This isn't just bad because it's so blatantly hypocritical and self serving. It's bad, because it means he enables Chloe's most self destructive and harmful traits so long as they don't impact 'him'. Given also that he is the one who, to put it charitably, raised her, that means the consequences and fallout of her actions should fall on him.

The fact he is presumably the one who encouraged Chloe to impersonate his wife, given Audrey didn't start rewarding that behavior until Queen Wasp, is also bad parenting. Like even if you ignore the disgust factor, its just fucking awful parenting and like everything else he taught her. It contributed to the fact Chloe is a social pariah hated by most people she has to spend time around.

Because let's get to the next stage, subversions!

In most shows like ML, Chloe as "The mean girl" would be popular, or at least feared, able to pose a threat in a social context, and is usually insulated from the more magical issues.

None of this applies to Chloe.

Even if we don't treat Origins as the shows starting point, she's already only tangentially involved in class stuff. Her fathers hotels own doorman outright says she has no friends, extremely out of pocket of him. & Origins sees one of the first things said to him being that Chloe is a brat and he halfway ditches her before 24 hours are up, and keeps her at nominal arms length for the rest of the series.

We can talk about how there's reasons for this, sure, but the thing that's interesting here is the subversion.

Chloe's mean-ness has not won her friends or influence as it does other mean girls in fiction, such as Heathers or Mean Girls.

Instead, it's made her barely tolerated by her peers and this only grows worse for her as the show goes on leading to her ensuing isolation which only worsens her condition and attitude. This is something Chloe is even varying shades of aware of, as she tearfully confessed to Ladybug when hiding from her Akumatized father. She knows something is wrong, but doing things differently goes against everything her parents taught her or exemplified, so it's not a shock she struggles.

Similarly, compare how Bonnie from Kim Possible could actually out-compete Kim for the role of cheer captain. 

Can Chloe beat Marinette in anything?

No, not really, or least the narrative never lets her do so even when she does have the skills for it, such as 8 years of ballet losing to nice vibes.

This is much less interesting than the previous point because it's basically just the writers using Chloe as a speed bump which gets boring after a while.

Then consider how Totally Spies own Mean Girl, Mandy is rarely tied to the actual adventures save maybe in a way other civilians are; leaving altercations with Clover as civilian affairs.

Does this apply to Chloe?

Fuck no XD

Chloe's frequently targeted by AKuma, even when she either shouldn't be singled out, (Ivan, everyone was scared) or for comparatively minor transgressions (Nathanial, his teacher screamed at, insulted & shook him) or outright targeted by the main villain of the show. (One who has known her since she was an infant!) 

Even before she had a Miraculous, Chloe was a frequent target of violent murder attempts. But this is largely treated as neutral, or even as comeuppance for bad behaviour. The issue is, the sheer scale of what she's being targeted with is so completely disportionate to what she did, assuming she even did things wrong, that it comes off as more unfair than anything else, & liable to give trauma. 

Especially as the show has double standards at times.

I think often-times the writers neglected to actually think through their karmic punishments for Chloe.

Take Pixelator, 

Chloe is the one who recognized Jagged, helped her father, and actually did her fucking job, but is the only student not rewarded with a concert ticket despite having done nothing to piss Jagged off.

Or how when her locker was broken into she's largely dismissed and needs to threaten the principal with her father to get a response. One might say this is abusing her power, but A, it's her dads power and B, we see with Lila later that the principle will basically just bow to whoever can make the bigger fuss. This isn't a Chloe issue it's a Damocles issue and I think being upset people broke into her locker isn't exactly unfair.

Similarly, I noted above how Chloe loses to Marinette even when she shouldn't logically do so. 

A bigger example of the narrative short hand delivered is the fact we see other characters do stuff Chloe does and get free rides.

IE, Kagami can dramatically strut into a fencing hall talking the most boastful shit, actually lose more or less legitimately, Akumatize and still be treated with sympathy and become a hero.

Chloe boastfully auditions to be Ladybug for a music video, but actually is the best audition scene, but loses out to positive vibes, gets angry & through her father lashes out, gets punished & no one gives a shit about her side of the story. 

To be clear, I like Kagami, I find this comparison interesting, I just don't think the show realized that it did this or does stuff like this a lot. 

That whole episode also demonstrates what I said at the start, about Chloe embodying the thematic of Akuma, IE, anger or distress, powerful sponsor, lashing out, ETC. 

So the double standard in how she's framed and treated VS Kagami is framed and treated becomes a weakness of the writing and show. 

We also see this with stuff like her & Marinette sabotaging Kagami, but Marinette largely getting portrayed sympathetically for doing so while Chloe isn't. 

This creates the impression the problem isn't Chloe's bad behavior, it's with her mere existence.

IE, she's the audience and writer's punching bag/designated target, so it feels like the writers just kind of don't bother a lot of the time actually making her wrong or thinking through the implications of their story beats with her, or other characters' behaviour. 

This stuff is present in Season 1, much more overt in season 2 and basically caps off season 3 which is where I stopped watching.

Cos like, the villain who's known her since forever has been actively trying to utilize her through the seasons, who explicitly aimed to puther in a state of severe emotional distress, ambushed her in her own home & had her parents in his grasp.

Right after the show's hero blatantly walked back a previous ruling that kept Chloe from being Queen Bee, (& did so for selfish and if one considered HK targeting known heroes, incredibly callous reasons)

But we're meant to hate the 14 year old for responding badly?

I would also argue stuff like this is a large part of what makes Chloe such an ensemble dark horde to the fandom. Not just because one can read into things about her history and character, but because the author's hand is so heavy it actively hurts and hinders its own narrative in order to harm Chloe and so feels unfair.

Some final notes I couldn't place elsewhere:

Akuma don't usually harm their loved one's. Chloe's mother tried to kill her on sight & then kept looking for excuses to do so & finally did. Andre turned the powerful & willful Audrey into a simpering hanger on and wanted to do the same with Chloe, which again, yikes.

When fused together they declared her incapable of loving anyone but herself. A fact blatantly disproven already but even in the episode itself with her demanding their release in exchange for helping Hawk Moth. & then tried to fucking EAT HER.

Her butler, school friend and teacher seemingly love her more than her own parents.

As an aside, Sabrina's explicitly encouraged to work for Chloe by her father as it makes her "Useful" which has loads of implications. But at least one can't blame Chloe for Sabrina's character.

Madame Bustier, when Akumatized uses having "Taken care" of her father as a lure to try and get Chloe to come to her. So again, yikes if one wants to read into it as it means even as an Akuma who was upset by Chloe, Bustier perceives Andre as the threat/problem to her.

Chloe by all accounts seems to live alone in a hotel suite, not even one of the fancier, super suites but like... The walls are 50% glass with no curtains, that lead to publicly exposed areas (as we see interviews with Jagged being conducted in them) and there's almost nothing to identify it as a space she lives in. Hell, the pictures on the wall are often blank and it seems she's lived here alone since she was a toddler.

That would have calamitous impacts on a Child's psyche & development! 

Despite her portrayal, Chloe was shown to be extremely good at being Queen Bee in many respects.

She almost soloed Mayura.

She is the first person shown able to resist Akuma, got civilians out of an Akuma infested train cart & protected Sabrina during the second red Akuma swarm.

She was able to quickly and easily keep up with Ladybug on the roof tops and using a similar weapon & travel style creates a visual parallel between the two which carries implications of them being counterparts. 

But most especially Chloe proved herself a skilled and heroic combatant during Heroes Day; covering for the other heroes without orders, doing so easily & needing to be targeted by multiple villains all with personal ties to her to be brought down, while protecting other heroes.

But that never really gets acknowledged.

So much like with "Nearly being brutally murdered for being kind of a dick" this sense of narrative imbalance engendered sympathy from those who notice.

I also find it fascinating that Chloe is, despite spending her life surrounded by abusers and enablers both, that she, without any real guidance, managed to soften their behaviors on her own.

Yes she buys Sabrina presents in luew of saying sorry, but she also spends time with her and does fun stuff, Andre just buys her off. She wants Adrien at her side and the like, but she doesn't actually try to stop him from befriending people she hates, Gabriel tries to keep him locked up. She doesn't like losing, but compares her relatively mild huffiness or brief theatrics to Audrey's violent response to merely being snubbed.

She's already doing better than all of them despite explicitly being taught or demonstrated, or victimized with all the wrong lessons and is fourteen.

Chloe also obviously has a deeply unhealthy understanding of relationships as seenin in how she recreates her parents awful dynamic with everyone around her. 

IE,

Andre fawns on Audrey, who is domineering, never satisfied and harsh at best. Chloe acts accordingly with Sabrina, while fawning on her mother and Ladybug who are much the same though  for different reasons. She's internalized this deeply unhealthy dynamic and applies it to herself as much as she does to anyone else.

This is just one element of the fact she honestly seems deeply troubled on a social level. I mentioned earlier that Chloe seems to know "Something" is wrong with everyone hating her & is clearly unhappy about it. But also seems unsure how to fix it, or what the source of the problem is.

The fact she often doesn't seem to get social cues, even from people she's treating like a peer, such as Ala or Adrien, gives off the sense that her problems go deeper than just "Being a brat".

This is further emphasized by the fact that so much of her daily persona seen is her doing an impression of her mother. Or otherwise putting on a show to try and get her dad or Kim, or the principle ETC, to do something.

Because when she's "upset" it's all theatrical prancing and squeals of daddy and then it's over.

But when she's actually upset, like panicking over losing Adrien upset, or breaking down cos Ladybug chose another hero with a known identity over her (Said by Kagami in the episode so we can't pretend it's not true). Chloe usually builds up to a brief explosion followed by a collapse, or just collapses outright into a panicked, curled up state. One that in one instance seemed to be intentionally drawing comparisons to an infant, but again give what we know that says less about her & more about Andre.

Basically, Chloe's life is a performance, we rarely see the real her, because she's always trying to play a role she thinks she's meant to, in order to be liked and successful & is confused, hurt and lonely because it's not working the way her family promises or demonstrated it would.

I also think it's interesting how Marinette & Kagami both firmly instruct her to stop bothering about seating arrangements. Like, we see he react to insults and anger with anger back, but those firm instructions seemed to make her actually inclined to listen, or at least intimidate rather than rile her up.

Also on the insults front, I think it's notable with the pariah angle that Chloe did basically become an open target. No, she doesn't do herself any favors, but her efforts to do video assignments, or participate in art class getting naught but degrading insults. Or her simply not participating in Madame Bustier's birthday causing the class to collectively tear into her says a lot.

Also much like with Damocles, Chloe getting away with mean-ness is not a Chloe thing, the other students get away with it too. At most getting a mild "Well that was kind of mean" which gets shrugged off.

So again we are back into one rule for Chloe another rule for everyone else, which engenders sympathy or frustration in many of the audience. 

Also I find her & Adrien's friendship conceptually fascinating. because like... Adrien outright admits that he totally understands sabotaging a train to try and win a parents love. Meaning he both can likely imagine himself doing the same and also does not grasp how fucked up it is to think one has to go to such insane lengths for someone who treats them like trash.

Am I speaking about Audrey or Gabriel?

Trick question, it's both!

As a sort of final cap off, I quite enjoy the fact that Chloe's so aggressively defiant. Yes she can get scared & panic, but like. She spent 95% of her Stoneheart kidnapping oscillating between bored, pissed off and irritated.

One can say it's a fight based trauma response and I agree, but it's also just a fun dynamic to have for a character who'd normally be relegated solely to screaming damsel.

So yeah, I think she's a fascinating character in concept and at times execution. Who subverts, twists and breaks expected tropes tied to her archetype in fascinating ways but who's handling leaves me wanting, I hope this was useful! 

@princess-of-the-corner @generalluxun @maestro04yayyy you might like this post too!

MAJOR EDIT!

I can't believe I went through Chloe's entire persona section & neglected to mention the fact that her efforts to flirt with guys always come off as so awkward and in-genuine compared to her enthusiastic adoration of Ladybug.

[edlucavalden]

Im too exausted for proper(ish) essays, but im so crazy over this scene. i can't contain myself

TW for: S/A !!! (For the nature of the writing and well—the scene itself)

He's confused at first. he doesn't know what is going on. This slight pause isn't because he's scared or frozen but to assess the situation. After all It was kinda sudden.

All he doesn't like this feeling. he feels uncomfortable and that some sort of boundry has been breached. But he hasn't fully processed it yet.

And right before he fully comprehends and does something about it—

He suddenly becomes compliant?

It's like he forgot what he was gonna do—like He loses the motivation to enforce his boundaries.

he still feels uncomfortable. that doesn't change. But he isnt aware of that. Well, that makes sense... since he never really did fully process what was happening. It's like he lost the will to care about or process it.

This panel. Christ... Thistle finally builds up the power to say stop. It's weak—confused and disoriented. I dont think it's even directed to anything specifically. Its intentions are vague.

But god... and the lion's response? Reassurance. how he can't help it, he needs this to live, he's been waiting for so long—oh, and don't worry, I'll take care of you.

It's just so chilling after this.

Thistle's powerless, weak, and complaicent. It's out of character for thistle. This entire scene is. However It's still thistle. His behavior and actions are his own, and for me that's the terrifying part.

This wasn't... Forced? There's no fighting and thrashing— Its just a complete submission. he reacted yeah but he didn't resist. he didn't fight back even if he had the ability to (we know bc he has, for 1000 years in fact). The lion didn't directly force him either. It didn't violently force him to have its way. But it's still violating. And that's the thing; the assult wasnt violent, but passive.

Hi guys just to reiterate that I did NOT mean to say that sexual cohesion is not an act of force. this part is ment reiterate that it "wasn't forced" in the sterotypical way of resisting, i followed it up by saying that it is still violating despite that and i emhasized that idea in the parts after that,. This part (more so the entire work in general) is ment to emphasize the passive yet transgressive nature of cohesion. i SINCERELY apologize if that was the message that was interpreted from that part. I did not intend it to mean that way.

The demon has slowly but surely torn down thistle's sense of self so much it turned him into a completely different person. Like his identity was shattered and rebuilt to submit.

It starts small, building up the situation, taking away his desire to resist and enforce his boundaries, then it gives a rose tinted explanation of what is happening. Finally, it comforts and praises him. This is what gives thistle the illusion of choice, a passive way of getting him vulnerable.

You can see how it affected him vividly through this part. it's like he forgets what he was fighting for. He forgets his boundaries, his identity, the things he cares about, everything. It's being ripped away from him.

Thistle never stood a chance.

It wasn't his fault he submitted. It was the demon's for putting him in that state. His complaicency is due to the fact that he had no power for any other way.

it never mattered that thistle never fought back. Even if he did fight back or didn't, even if he succeeded or not—what then? it would never change the demon's nature. One who seeks consumption will always consume. In other words; it will always find a way.

I honestly dont think it was the demon's intention to harm thistle. It's selfish but not moralisticly evil (nothing ever is). It seeks fulfillment and not suffering. But its blind pursuit for satisfaction caused suffering, That's what makes it malicious. It doesn't matter if he intented or was aware of it or not. the demon benefited from something that could harm him and did it despite that. And that will never change.

[iamasimperyk]

Professor's Pet

Warnings: Smut, Cursing, Taboo topic, English is not my first language

Summary: You have a crush on your professor

Pairing: Professor!Rafe x Student!Reader

You knew it was wrong, however, you couldn't help but fall for your professor.

Rafe Cameron. The hot professor every girl on campus had a crush on. You promised yourself you would not be one of those girls, save to say you failed miserably.

Another thing you promised yourself was to never fall for a married man. Fuck. He even had a child.

All the time you reminded yourself that it was nothing but a silly little crush. He had a family, and you were barely twenty.

Still, every lecture got harder and harder for you. He just looked so fine and the way he had with words—it was just too much for you.

"Alright, students, see you next Monday." Rafe smiled, finishing his lesson.

People slowly started leaving, leaving, and you took a big breath before you approached your professor.

"Mr. Cameron? Could I talk to you for a minute?" You asked, feeling how your knees had already gotten weaker.

His smile fell a little, but he nodded regardless, "Of course, Ms. Y/l/n."

"The essay from a week ago, I think you made a mistake with my mark." You said in the friendliest way possible.

"No, I don't think so. The grammar of your essay was rather weak, and I didn't really appreciate the way you chose to write about the topic. The task was to write nothing but information and nothing about your personal opinion." He told you, packing his stuff in the meantime.

"All my other professors never had something against my grammar or my use of words?" You said in confusion.

"Well, Ms. Y/l/n, I suggest you focus on your writing. I am not quite interested in hearing your little excuses." He said with a strict voice before he walked out of the room

You stood there stunned. He never had something against your writing, and he never acted so annoyed and cold toward his students.

Tears swelled up in your eyes, and you quickly left the room, wanting nothing more than to cry in your bed.

You felt like shit. Rafe Cameron couldn't know about the crush you had on him since you never told anyone, and you also tried your best not to make it too obvious—not like the other girls. Maybe he had just a bad day, or maybe, he was really not fond of your essay.

------

A few weeks later, nothing had changed. You saw how friendly your professor acted toward other students, but when you tried to ask a question, he just acted differently. Fuck, he even ignored you every time you raised your hand in one of his lectures.

At this point, you should have accepted the fact that he hated you. But you couldn't.

You stood in front of his office and knocked on the black wooden door.

After a few seconds, it opened, " Oh, you must be one of my husband's students."

There she was, Rafe Cameron's wife. She was beautiful, and she seemed to be nice.

"Y-yeah, I just wanted to ask something about the lecture today, but I will just send him an e-mail." You mumbled with a small smile before you turned around to leave.

After you heard how the door closed, there was screaming.

------

The next day, after everybody left the room, Rafe Cameron asked to talk to you for a moment.

"Ms. Y/l/n, I am sure you had a good reason for coming to my office yesterday, but I would appreciate it if you don't bother me in my free time." He said in a cold tone.

You couldn't take it anymore. It was not a crime to ask a professor a question outside of lectures.

"Mr. Cameron, I tried my best not to say anything, but I can't take it anymore. I was polite to you and handed in every assignment you gave. And you? You gave me bad marks, and everything I do is bad in your opinion," You raised your voice, but he just stared at you coldly.

"What have I done wrong? Just tell me so I can change-" You went on, before he interrupted you," You are the problem. Everything about you is the problem."

You looked at him confused, "What do you mean, Mr. Cameron?"

"Fuck, I mean look at you. The way you look, the way you dress, the way you swing your hips when you walk out of the room, the way you bite down your lip when you're thinking. I can't think about you this way. I am your professor, and you are my student." He told you, pacing around the room.

Your professor, who was also your secret crush, liked you. He liked you in the same way you liked him. But what now?

"I- I don't know what to say now." You muttered and looked away, biting down your lip.

Rafe looked at you, taking a big step forward, and put his hands on your cheeks, "Just one, please."

You looked at him innocently and gave him a small nod. That was all it took before he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours.

You kissed him back, your tongues dancing around in each other's mouths.

"Please," You let out a desperate moan, and Rafe quickly picked you up before he placed you on his desk.

He took one of his hands away from your butt and brought it down to lift the hem of your black skirt. Slipping it inside your panties and pushing a finger inside your tight, now wet folds.

One of his hands still squeezed your ass as you moaned into his mouth. He broke the kiss, his eyes staring into yours, full of lust, "Who would have thought that you are such a slut for your professor?"

He started to work a second finger inside your tight cunt. Your clit grinding against his palm.

"So desperate, my little whore." He picked up the pace, pumping his fingers in and out of your aching pussy.

All you could do was moan and whimper. You were about to cum before you felt him retract his fingers.

You let out a sound of disappointment, which he returned with one of his famous smirks. He unbuckled his belt and pulled out his cock. He rubbed it against your dripping wet slit before he buried it inside your little cunt.

"Mr. Cameron," You let out a moan that was muffled by another hard kiss.

He started to thrust his hips. Your little pussy clamping around his hard thick cock as he fucked you on his desk.

You wrapped your legs around his waist as your bodies rocked together.

"Is this what you wanted?" He asked, and all you could do was cry out a small 'Yes, sir'.

He kissed you hungrily, and you could feel yourself nearly at the edge. "Cum with me. Show me what a little slut like you looks like when she cums hard all over her professor's cock." He moaned into your mouth.

You threw your head back as your pussy spasmed. Your hips bucked against him as his orgasm washed over him as well, riding out your orgasms together.

He looked into your eyes again, "You did so good for me, princess. Come on, let's clean you up."

[spiderfunkz]

✦ I LOVE THE SMITHS, AND YOU!

summary : you love the smiths, peter loves you.

word count : 0,8k

warnings : fluff, reader is oblivious & peter is just peter, not proofread btw.

a/n : based on this request!! my requests for peter are like always open so feel free to send in your thoughts <33 also this is inspired by that one scene in 500 days of summer but on a budget.

peter parker was in love.

sorry, correction, is in love.

he didn't know when this little crush started.

maybe it was in the 5th grade, when he was paired with you to do a project together, that's when he first met you. he remembered how he'd admire you as you glued those stupid looking dinosaurs on the cardboard.

he remembered how your overgrown bangs were almost covering your eyes. he remembered how he'd ask why you didn't cut it, and how you replied with — "i dunno, i don't want to cut it yet. my mumma told me hair holds memories. and i don't want to forget those memories."

he remembered how that reply made him smile. how he'd knew you two would get along somehow. and also, since then he became really picky when it comes to haircuts.

or maybe it was in the 9th grade. when you were one of the few people that wished him a happy birthday. he remembered that you gave him a really big smile, and he always noted how it was the prettiest smile he has ever seen, well, other than aunt may's of course.

or maybe it was last week. when you sat next to him in french class.

maybe it's because he noticed how your bangs were now blended with the rest of your hair, how he'd realized you never cut it since 5th grade. he wondered how many memories you have kept because of it. he wonders if he's in any of those.

he also wonders if you ever noticed that he liked you. how he'd always steal a glance when you're not looking, how he had your birthday marked on every calendar he has owned, or how he'd save up to buy you the things you looked at for too long.

maybe you did. and maybe you didn't know what to think of it.

to be completely honest, you were never much of a romantic.

never really. in your entire life you only liked two and a half things. the pasta your mom cooked, your hair, and sometimes, peter parker.

well, most of the time, peter parker. i mean he's your friend of course you like him! he's funny, he has nice soft hair that you just want to run your fingers through, he's smart and witty but he never brags about it, he cares for you, and his hand intertwines with yours perfectly.

okay, maybe you like him more than a friend. but that's another story you don't want to get too deep into.

"how about this?" you ask, holding peter's 'the smiths ; the queen is dead' cd in your hand.

you were supposed to do your english essay with peter today in his room, but like every other work you do with peter in his room, you both end up getting distracted.

"i forgot i had that, i loved it." he smiles, "put it on." he says, gesturing to the cd player.

"i love love this album! i can't believe you forgot you had this." you turn the player on as the song starts to play.

"you can keep it if you want, since you like it so much." peter says. "really?" — "of course." peter nods.

"thanks, peter. you're the best." you sat next to him.

peter hands you the paper you were supposed to do your essay on. "i wrote half of it with a pencil, you can just trace it with a pen." he smiles. "oh my god, peter. you know i could've done it myself." — "yeah but then it'll take you 5 hours and no sleep. besides, i'm almost done with mine too, so."

"aw, thanks." you lean your head on his shoulder as you read what he wrote on the paper. you focus on the paper, not noticing that peter's face is turning bright red.

a few minutes pass by and peter's calming down, he leans his head on yours. but when he does your head immediately jerk up. "oh i love this part!" you turn the volume up. "don't you?" you turn to peter, he nods.

"to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die!" you sang. "ugh, i love the smiths." you lean forward to grab a pen so you could finish the essay.

peter looks at you as you hum to the song. he notices your cherry tinted lips, and how your hair is clipped to the side with a clip that peter bought you years ago. he looks at you with such care and love. though unfortunately, you don't notice that.

you look to peter, "what do i have something on my face?". peter looks away, "oh uh no, sorry."

you furrow your brows. "you sure?" peter nods. "okay..." you laugh.

you continue to nod to the song, the pen in your hand overwriting peter's messy handwriting. "i loveee the smiths." you repeated.

"i loveee you." peter blurts out. he hopes it wasn't too loud, but you seem to be focused on the song and your paper.

"huh?" you turn to peter. "what? huh." peter awkwardly looks away, again. you look at him for a bit before smiling, "did you say you loveee the smiths too? i thought you weren't that big of a fan anymore." you clearly misheard him.

peter was dumbfounded, sure he didn't want you to hear that. but at the same time he did want you to hear that. "no i uh- i said, i love you."

"you love, me?" you ask.

"yeah, l-o-v-e."

"love love?"

"yeah. love love."

[pottersfia]

omg since you said you were in the mood for theo fluff… can i please request some mutual pining, grumpy x sunshine, hufflepuff reader fluff? 🤭 where his friends are teasing him for being all happy around her since they started talking more and it ends with a confession or something?

a/n: AHHH i loved this so much thank you for the request, hopefully you enjoy it i’m always iffy about my fics but… anyway!

word count: 1,159

potions class was arguably one of the most interesting classes you had, but that didn't mean it wasn't challenging. you were assigned to brew felix felicis and you were finding it hard to simply start.

you looked around at the students next to you. your fellow hufflepuff friends seemed to be struggling a bit as well. on the other side of you were a few slytherins, draco, blaise, and theodore who you had only talked to a handful of times.

"doing alright, y/n?" your friend hannah asked. you turned to her and looked down at the "potion infront of you as you replied with, "umm.. not so much?" you laughed with hannah as she told you about how confused she was herself.

you looked back over at theodore who was right next to you. you saw how he skillfully accomplished each step with ease. as if he could feel your gaze he looked up at you.

"do you need something?" he asked, causing you to look up at him.

"oh! sorry i just," you pointed to his potion, "i'm completely confused, how did you do that?" you asked.

without a word he helped you with the first step. he laid out everything you needed and mixed your first ingredients.

"just follow my lead." he smirked slightly at you. you nodded and followed all his movements.

•••

"thanks for the help, theodore." you said as class ended. he couldn't help but smile slightly at your words. no one really called him theodore. it was always nott or theo. he liked it coming from you.

"anytime." he said and left to catch up with his friends.

the next few days you and theodore talked more and more in potions class. well, you did most of the talking, eagerly ranting about a book you read or complaining about an assignment you did bad on, whatever it was theodore was all ears. draco and blaise were completely shocked by this. normally their friend didn't bother talking you anyone besides them in their classes. he kept to himself often dozing off or whispering to draco and blaise instead of paying attention.

but now his energy switched as he'd walk into potions. once he saw you sat at your seat talking to hannah his face lit up with a small smile. a smile draco and blaise never missed. he greeted you cheerfully and encouraged you to converse with him about any and everything.

•••

"what did you get on the essay, theo?" pansy asked the boy who clearly wasn't paying attention to the conversation his friends were having. the group was out in the courtyard killing sometime during their free afternoon.

"theo? hello?" pansy waved her hand infront of his face after he didn't respond. he looked away from what was distracting him and looked back at pansy.

"what?" he asked. draco and blaise laughed knowing exactly what was happening.

"why are you two laughing?" he asked.

"a little distracted by someone, theo?" draco teased.

"a little more than a little bit." pansy grumbled.

"someone? who?" daphne asked. theodore rolled his eyes.

"drop it draco." he said.

"it's y/n. that hufflepuff in our potions class." blaise pointed to you, sitting under a tree talking to a few of your friends. how cold he not stare at you, he thought you looked perfect all of the time. you turned and saw the group of slytherins staring at you and as intimidating as it was, you smiled and waved at theodore quickly turning away. he smiled.

"oh you're whipped." draco laughed.

"i knew something was different about you." daphne smiled. theodore gave her a questioning look. "you've been so happy lately."

"i don't know what you mean." theodore shrugged.

"you should see him in potions class, he sits right next to her." blaise commented.

"all he does is smile and stare at her." draco and blaise laugh some more, pansy and daphne joining in at the image of theodore nott being smitten.

"it's not that funny." he replied. 

"it kind of is, mate." blaise said. "why don't you just ask her out."

"she doesn't like me like that."

"are you dumb." draco shoved his shoulder.

"no, she doesn't! she's just a nice person. she talks to everyone."

meanwhile, you and your friends, hannah and susan, were talking about none other than theodore.

"he's pretty hot, you have good taste y/n." hannah said.

"but does he actually talk?" susan asked

"of course he does. i mean, i talk more but he has a voice." you reply.

"and he's actually nice?"

"he is! and he's funny too."

"he hasn't asked to shag you?"

you squinted your eyes at susan. "no. he hasn't."

you had a feeling he might like you too, but you weren't sure. he'd sometimes give you little compliments or make flirty comments but everyone said he was basically an f boy. you found that a little hard to believe after getting to know him more, though.

"you should ask him out." hannah said.

"what?" you raised your eyebrows.

"y/n, i see the way he looks at you during potions class, there's no way he'd say no!" she said.

"do it now!" susan smiled.

“now?!” you exclaimed.

“now!” they both practically yelled at you, which caught the attention of theodore and his other slytherin friends.

“guys shut up! ok. i’ll go.” you stood up and nervously walked over to theodore with a smile.

theodore couldn’t keep his eyes off you. he smiled once he caught your eyes and saw you were approaching him.

“guys, shut up, she’s coming.” he whisper shouted to the group.

you gave a small wave once you stood infront of theodore.

“hi theodore.” you said.

“theodore?” pansy questioned but blaise shoved her to keep her quiet.

“hi y/n.” theodore replied.

“i wanted to tell you something.”

theodore stood up.

“you can tell me away from these losers.” he placed his hand on your arm and led you away from his friends who were making teasing and making comments.

“i actually wanted to ask you something too.” he said.

“really? what is it?” you asked. he shook his head.

“you first.” he put his hand in his pockets and tilted his head with a small smirk. you sighed and fidgeted with your fingers.

“i just wanted to saw that i like you. like a lot, and i wanted to know if you maybe wanted to go out sometime? with me?” you asked. theodore was, for lack of better words, flabbergasted. he sort of froze partially because he couldn’t believe you were asking him out and partially because he wanted to ask first.

“i was going to ask the same thing.” he smiled. a wide smile, bigger than the small smirks he usually gave you. it was beautiful. “of course i do, y/n. i like you too.”

you smiled back at him and gave him a hug which he instantly reciprocated.

[tamsinbeybey-she-no-porcupine]

Okay so I just noticed something and I'm going feral, feral I tell you.

This is going to be a really, really long one with a lot of picures and I'm honestly not sure if I saw something completely obvious that everybody immediately got whilst watching^^° or if I found something here.

Nonetheless strap in in this essay I will...

So in Cap's flashback he enters the room and looks around clearly looking for someone and when he spots Havers he gets this relieved, smitten "omg I found you/you're here and alive" expression in His face

And Havers who spots him out of the corner of his eyes gets all wide eyed

and turns himself towards Cap with this tiny little smile and he looks so fond at him and also as if he's internally screaming (also in an "omg you made it I'm seeing you again" way)

And then Cap walks in his direction but then bumps into Cartwright and they start talking and Cap who seems to be on good terms with him smiles back at Cartwright and seems super happy and giddy (because Havers is alive and in the same room and they will reconnect in a few moments)

And then Havers watches them like this

and starts to turn back towards his colleagues with this almost jealous/shooting daggers look.

and then he makes the face on the left and looks so spaced out, a bit resigned, disappointed and hurt. And then he does his thing again like in Redding Weddy where he presses his lips together and forces a smile (this time tiny smile) with a tense jaw to regain control over his emotions, to put on a stiff upper lip. But look at his eyes the man is clearly hurt (heartbroken) about something

and at first I did not really get what was going on but then it clicked.

You ever had that moment when someone is waving to you that you don't know and you're like do they mean me? and you wave back but then realise they were waving at the person behind you? It's like that just with "in front" instead of "behind"

Because when Cap's eyes fall on Havers look who's standing in front of him in the Captain's line of sight

Yep it's fucking Cartwright. And when Havers has his little "I turn to you moment" Cartwright is also walking towards Cap in the frame

So from the camera angle and they way it's shot we see them bump into each other but do not see if Havers actually saw it ; what he definetely sees is them turning towards each other, though.

and in the next frame Cartwright takes a step to his right and we see them standing like this

So it's a line and Havers is basically looking at Cartwright's back so when Cap lifts his finger to indicate that he wants to go over to Havers, it's probably not visible to Havers because

first of all we can't see Havers anymore in the background when the camera focuses on Cartwrights face. And secondly from the shot of Cap pointing it becomes apparent that Cartwright's body is blocking Havers's view of that.

So but what am I actually getting at?

Well...

OMG I think Havers thought for a bit that Cap didn't want to reconnect with him (or wasn't there because of him) but with (because of) Cartwright!!

Because what he's seeing is Cap entering the room looking for someone, their eyes meet Cap takes a few steps staring happily in his direction. But then some guy walks to Cap in front of Havers who he realises is in Cap's direct line of sight. Then the two of them start talking and Cap looks so happy whilst talking to this other guy! And then we see Havers's heart break! And how he struggles to collect himself and hide that!

He probably thought Captain moved on, that he no longer has the same feelings for Havers, that maybe he has affections for Cartwright. Or at least that Cap prefers o talk to Cartwright instead of him.

So and then when Havers runs to his aid he turns to the next person, who happens to be Cartwright and yells "Well fetch a medic!", he sounds soooo angry. I can think of a few explanations here tbh from "why aren't you helping him?" to "what have you done to him?!" to "oh it's you I can't stand you since 5 minutes ago get out off my sight!" maybe it's neither, maybe its all of them or a mixture. Who knows.

However we're not finished here because guess what

When Cap says "I'm sorry I had to find you" this is Havers reaction.

He looks legitimately surprised in an "who, me?" kind of way (and /or his "omg is this happening now" kind of way just like back in RW) but also worried about Cap and his Adam's apple does the bobbing thing it does when he's nervous or emotional.

But then Cap's words seem to sink in and he's now clearly emotional. Not just worried but also look how softly he gazes as Cap and tries o smile at him whilst clearly being distraught.

And then the realisation hits him about what exactly is happening right now. That Cap indeed was there because of him and that he is now dying in front of him and that there's probably not much time left. And that's even before Cap tries to confess his feelings and Havers confirms that he knows about them.

And it's all just so absolutely fucking heartbreaking.

PS:

Just realised that this would also explain why Havers didn't walk over to Cap and just interrupted the conversation with Cartwright or joined in. Because he thought that Cap was there because of/ wanted to talk to Cartwright and Anthony was heartbroken about that ;_;

Btw also a little thing that's interesting to note in this regard: before the older soldier walks over to C&C we can see Havers in the background just constantly looking at them from the distance. Maybe it's jealousy, maybe it's yearning, maybe it's both.

Yeah so that's that. Safe to say I as always have a lot of opinions and emotions about these two. Curious to know what you guys thought was going on there with Havers .

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Today's @wolfstarmicrofic prompt is unrequited!

(936 words.)

"Oh, just fuck right off!" Sirius snaps, grip tightening on his butterbeer.

"God, what's gotten into you?" Marlene asks, arching an eyebrow. To be perfectly honest, Sirius doesn't want to talk about it.

James is more than happy to, though.

"Don't worry about him. He's all pissy because of his unrequited love." Sirius' head immediately snaps up, alarmed.

"Prongs," He says, warning. His eyes almost involuntarily dart to Remus for half a second, panic seeping through him. James, however, is teetering on the line between tipsy and drunk, completely missing the hint.

"Mm, completely hung up on some girl, right?" Peter chimes in, and Sirius almost wants to laugh. The urge to drop dead is much stronger, though. To crawl into a hole and say there until this conversation ends.

"Something like that," Sirius says quickly, before turning away from them both. Fingers crossed, he can just shut this down. "Hey, Lily, that potions essay..."

Unfortunately for him, Lily seems just as invested.

"How do you know it's unrequited?" She asks curiously. Remus lifts his head, then, nose out of his book. For some reason, that's what tips him over the edge. He needs everyone to stop. This is difficult enough.

"Because I asked, okay?" He says hurriedly. It causes his friends to lapse into silence, but it's like he's just burst a dam. The explanation starts before he can hold it back. "I asked, and they said no. They said it was a bad idea, we were too close for that."

"Huh," Mary hums.

"What?" Sirius asks with a frown.

"They didn't say they don't like you?" Mary asks, and it really throws Sirius. He hasn't considered that.

"No, not exactly," He muses, frowning. "But why would anyone reject someone they like?"

"Maybe they were scared of ruining the friendship you two have," Remus speaks up gently, almost inaudibly from across the common room; capturing Sirius' attention in less than a second.

"That makes no sense," Sirius says without missing a beat, eyes locking with Remus. "They should know me well enough to know that I wouldn't let that happen. I know they wouldn't. We've survived worse."

From the corner of his eye, he can see confusion flit across James' face at that comment. Yeah, it was a bit of a risky thing to say. He's practically handing James the truth. It doesn't matter, though. Not right now. His eyes are fixed on Remus.

"Depends on what you think is worse. They might be worried about a messy breakup getting in the way."

"No, that can't be it," He says, imploring. The longing to see into Remus' mind, figure out what he means is too strong. He'll have to unravel it this way instead. "If they're already thinking about a breakup, then clearly they don't like me that much. Unrequited." He wants nothing more than to drop the matter now that he's proven his point to himself. Maybe he doesn't need to see inside Remus' mind. He goes to down the rest of his drink, but Remus is shaking his head, and Sirius is losing sight of everyone else in favour of Remus.

"Or they just care too much about you." There's something in Remus' eyes, an ache that Sirius wants to heal.

"Really? Why would they reject me when I told them how I feel, then?!" Sirius asks desperately. It seems to snap Remus' resolve, burst his ambigious speech.

"Because I'm in love with you, Sirius! Okay?! Christ, this isn't just some- some joke, or some experiment to me! You looked me in the eye and told me you liked me, and that- that made me hope, okay? I don't want to hope. To think that you liking me means you'll fall in love with me. I mean," He releases a breathy laugh, seemingly unaware to the way Sirius' world is turning on it's axis, "I'm me, and you're- you're perfect."

He seems to have reached the end of his tangent, pattering out as everyone looks between the two of them, stunned. Sirius searches his brain, which may or may not be short circuiting, for some way to voice his thoughts. There are so many things he could say, so many ways to tell Remus everything, but none of them seem to be enough. Enough to encompass everything. A better solution comes to him as his yearning overwhelms him.

With that, he sets his butterbeer down and crosses the common room. Remus' eyes widen, suddenly unsure, until Sirius pulls himself into Remus' armchair, facing him. He reaches out, pressing a hand against Remus' cheek and finally, finally connecting their lips. It's everything he could have imagined and more.

Remus' lips are soft, warm against his, overwhelmingly perfect, and making Sirius desperate to stay there forever, mapping out every inch of Remus' mouth, the way it fits against his like they should have been doing this forever. It's a feeling Sirius knows he's never going to forget, causing the words he has been desperately repressing for years bubbling up inside him.

"I love you," Sirius murmurs against Remus' lips after a moment. "I love you so much, Moony."

Their eyes meet again, Sirius watching as Remus' eyes go from searching to joyful, a grin splitting across his face. It took a whooping cheer from James to break the spell that Remus' eyes got him in. They both turn to their friends, a laugh escaping Sirius as he drops his head into Remus' shoulder.

"Thank fuck that's sorted, then!" Lily says brightly, a wry smile on her face.

Okay, Sirius is really grateful for his oversharing friends.

[pippin-katz]

Another 6 Little Faces Alex Makes That I Love - Part 3

(not ranked in any order)

No. 1:

This fucking fond smile he gets after Henry says he would be a writer living in Paris if he were anonymous. Like, boy you are so whipped, it's not even funny. He's probably thinking something like, "that's so Henry of him to say" and it's adorable.

No. 2:

This is the face of a little shit who knows damn well what he's done and is delighting in seeing how Henry is going to manage to play it off. He's got that fake innocent/confused face, like, "oh gosh, is everything alright Henry?"

Then he just grins when he manages to save it, like the fucking little shit that he is. That face says, "I just squeezed the ass of the Prince of Wales directly in front of the Prime Minister of the UK and the President of the United States, made him fumble like an idiot, turned him on, and I got away with it."

No. 3:

He's in the background, so he's a little hard to see, but he's got this genuine soft smile on his face like he truly finds it sweet of Henry to sing and point at him. Like, he's not even laughing; Nora has that funny fake shock on her face, but Alex is just actually happy that he's the one Henry's pointing at.

No. 4:

The way he's watching Henry so closely, and you can see his jaw flex when he moves. You can tell how careful he's being, how determined he is to do this right. It feels like he's not even worried about his own pleasure right now because he cares so much more about making sure he doesn't hurt Henry, and that he feels good.

No. 5:

The way he shakes his head and swallows before he speaks because Henry's voice in the previous line was so desperate and pleading. He begs him so softly and brokenly not to make him send him away, and it makes Alex choke up for a second because he can hear Henry's pain, and he loves him so much. He can't walk away. He can't give up.

He knows that he makes Henry happy (thanks campfire scene), and that's all he wants to do. He refuses to let Henry go back to his prison of armor while there's something he can do about it. Henry has to tell him to leave, because he cannot and will not be the reason for that pain. Alex is not going to give him the excuse or opportunity to put the armor back on because he left.

It has to come directly from Henry, because he will do anything for him, even if it means leaving, if that's what he wants. If Henry tells him to, then fine, he'll do it, because he won't disrespect or directly ignore his wishes.

Alex's first words are to ask for permission to talk to him. There's a big difference between "Can we please talk?" and "We need to talk!". One is a demand, while the other is a request, one that Henry can refuse.

And at this point, Henry hasn't actually told him to leave yet. He said Alex could say what he needed to say, and then leave, but he has not outright told him to. Alex, despite how much it would kill him, is telling Henry that he will walk away if that's what he wants, and it's painful and terrifying for him to say, but he'll do it for him.

That was longer than I thought it would be.

No. 6:

The little bashful smile he has when talking about Henry kissing him. He's too uncertain to directly say, "Yes, I liked it" in response to Nora's question, so he says it in a round about way of saying he didn't not enjoy it. It gives the impression that he's trying to "stay cool" about the whole thing even though you can tell he's not saying everything. He's trying to downplay it because he's actually losing his mind over it, but doesn't want to admit it.

Alright, there's part 3! I'll see if there's enough for a part 4, but I'm running out of what I would consider "little" faces lol

Update: If you enjoyed this essay & would like to support me, you can give me a tip on my Ko-Fi! ☺️

part 1 | part 2

[sydnieminty]

Ares, the god of war 🩸

Also including an Aphrodite ref sheet that I've had 90% finished for like the last 8 months but hadn't bothered to finish until just recently lol

Anyways buckle up because I'm about to start YAPPIN

I wasn't sure how this was gonna go at first because I don't have a lot of experience with designing male characters and it's not something I typically enjoy but I really like how he turned out and I really enjoyed the process. I was like wait this is fun actually, it's different than what I usually draw.

I've been wanting to do something with Ares for a long time because I think he's really slept on in the Greek mythology community. I think Ares and Aphrodite probably have the healthiest relationship in Greek mythology and I've always found it interesting that the ancient Greeks paired Love with War

I've seen people talk shit about Aphrodite like "oh she cheats on her husband, that's so shitty" like,, you mean the husband she was forced to marry? Ok... But on that note I think Aphrodite and Hephaestus's marriage is interesting and it is something I plan on doing something with. Hephaestus is another one of the few seemingly upstanding men in Greek mythology so I feel like he treats Aphrodite with respect and they find love between each other after some time, in their own way.

Something I always think about is Ares is such a good dad?? He's often depicted in statues with Eros and in war is almost always accompanied by Deimos and Phobos. like yes, spend quality time with your children, so cute <3 Also he supports his Amazon daughters. He unalives a man who assaulted his daughter and it pisses off Poseidon so bad that they INVENT court to put him on trial just for Ares to go "Yeah I did it, and I'd fuckin do it again" and gets acquitted

Back to my Ares design. I thought it would be interesting if his scars were transient, as in not really permanent scars but more like very slowly healing wounds filling with ichor. The only way he can scar permanently is if the injury is inflicted on him by another immortal...

Stole the glowy hair from Disney's Hercules because that shit is peak character design

I was not going to draw any helmets at first because... I didn't want to lol but I read that he like almost always had his helmet. Like he's showing up to fancy dinners carrying his helmet. So I was like okay fine have your emotional support helmet lol

His spear is a gift from Aphrodite, it has a little heart design engraved into it <3 I find Warlike Aphrodite VERY interesting and I like to imagine her having a surprisingly strong affinity for conflict

Personality wise, Ares tries to put up a tough guy "whatever. I don't care act" but he is actually very much a people pleaser and has a distinct desire to be accepted. He is keenly aware that he is not well liked among the gods nor the mortals. He is not the beloved, wise, tactical Athena. He is Bloodlust and Carnage, he is the ugliest sides of war. To most mortals he is a god to appease, not worship.

He loves his mother, and he is her favorite child. He has spent his life defending her, even as a child and even against his father. He is not well liked by his father, but this is typical of Zeus, who is paranoid that one of his sons will eventually continue the family's proclivity for patricide.

Anyways thank you for reading my essay. I will be making more Aphrodite/Ares content very soon. I hope you enjoy