#this was supposed to be an “experiment“

[augustinewrites]

just alhaitham realizing he wants a baby with you... cw: pregnancy, children

alhaitham is in the middle of reading, spending his lunch hour tucked away in a quiet corner puspa cafe when he feels a poke at his arm.

he slides his headphones off, looking over to see a child standing next to him, clutching something to her chest. 

“excuse me– mister scribe sir?”  

the scribe sighs, tucking his book away. “just alhaitham is fine.”

the child blushes furiously. “oh, um, mister alhaitham sir, my teacher says that your job is reading. could you read this for me please?” 

that was an incredibly juvenile description of his job, but he doesn't correct her. the girl slides what alhaitham recognizes as the children’s book that tighnari had written (and collei had illustrated) to teach the basics of forest safety. the storytelling was mediocre and the illustrations were average, but he supposed they were sufficient enough for children who had no higher education.

alhaitham glances at the clock. he still has a half hour left of his break, and he was nothing if not an advocate for educating young minds.

—

“the lesson is to always be prepared when traveling through the rainforest,” alhaitham explains, closing the book. “there’s always a high probability that you’ll run into fungi, especially if you're on foot like little cyno was. you’d do well to add a variety of antitoxins to your first aid kit.”

the girl considers this, brows pulled into a furrow as she sips at the sunsettia juice he’d ordered for her. 

“why didn’t little cyno just go around the fungi when he saw them? then he wouldn't have gotten the sports.”

“the spores,” alhaitham corrects. “but your point stands. common sense is perhaps the most effective survival tool.” 

children, with their inquisitive and imaginative minds, were adequate problem solvers. they didn't overthink things, instead utilizing a simple, pragmatic way of thinking. 

he wouldn't mind raising a little scholar of his own with you. 

he’d thought a normal amount about having a child before. typical musings, like when he would have one (after school, after securing a decent job). or what their names would be (esfir for a boy, laila for a girl). who would bear his children (the only person he’d ever considered was you).

but these aren’t idle musings anymore. this time, the idea hits him full force, quickly spiraling into a hope. a dream for the future. 

a boy with his eyes and your smile. a girl with your hair colour and his nose. how you’d raise them together, how they’d grow to be intelligent, inquisitive, creative, and endlessly compassionate.  

“sweetheart, there you are!” a relieved voice exclaims. 

the girl sitting across from him perks up as her mother runs up to the table, her smile widening. “mama! mister alhaitham read me a book!”

“i'm so sorry she interrupted your lunch, sir,” the frantic mother looks sheepish as she apologizes, but alhaitham dismisses it with a wave of his hand. 

“it’s alright. if anything, this experience has been rather enlightening.” 

_____

“that's quite the stack,” you comment mildly when your husband enters the bedroom with an armful of textbooks. “which new topic have you been intrigued with this week?”

alhaitham sets the books down on the nightstand and answers, “conception.”

his answer is spoken simply, casually, like he’s talking about the weather and not one of the most life-altering decisions you could make as a couple. 

“conception,” you repeat slowly. “like…”

“you’re a doctor. you’re aware of the biological process behind it.” 

“of course i am,” you say, suddenly feeling flustered. “i just– we’ve never talked about this before, haitham.”

your husband sighs, walking around to your side of the bed and sitting by your legs. “well…i want to talk about it.” 

seconds pass. seconds that almost feel like a lifetime as you watch each other, looking for any unspoken signs of hesitation.

“it’s up to you,” he finally says, gently placing a hand on your ankle. “it’s your body, you’re the one who would be carrying our baby for nine months. if you’re not ready–”

you don't need to hear the rest, crawling over to cup his face in your hands and press a soft kiss to his lips. “i'm ready. we’re ready.” 

his eyes immediately brighten, and he momentarily leaves your grasp to reach across the bed to grab the topmost book from his stack. “there are certain positions that we can try to increase our chances of conceiving. according to studies conducted in fontaine, this one has an effectiveness of 89.5%. it’s called a mating press…”

you wish you could say it’s the first time he’s propositioned you with educational literature. 

“wait, you didn’t ask me,” you giggle, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging lightly. 

he pauses. “will you try this position with me?”

“no, smartass. ask me to have a baby with you.”

your husband grins, hooking his hands under your ass to pull you into his lap. you gasp as he does so, his head dipping down to the crook of your neck. he says your name, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“will you let me put a baby in you, dearest?”

[neil-gaiman]

hey Neil, I hope you are having a good day. There's this question that's been bothering me for years. I never knew who to ask, or how, and I was always sure it's only me who experiences these things. And then I looked back at my favorite book of yours -good omens- and I thought, of course! Neil! He's the perfect guy to ask! So here it is.

You wrote good omens with Terry Pratchett. You know that already, sorry. Here's the thing.

Whenever I work on things with people, no matter who they are, friends or colleagues or strangers, I always have a hard time collaborating. It's hard for me not to be in control of the project. I actually love the idea of making things with other people, and sometimes I have the best time doing it, but the minute they bring up an idea they have that I don't agree with or like- I have a hard time. I can never bring myself to say "sorry, i don't really like that idea", i hate hate hate saying no to people, or hurting their feelings, so I end up nodding politely and we end up with a finished project I dont like.

When you were writing good omens with Terry, how did you do it? How did you collaborate and make something so successful? Did you just never disagree with anything he came up with?

If you end up seeing this, thank you very much. This is a life- long problem of mine.

I suppose that both Terry and I knew that seeing that we were making art and telling a story, there wasn't any right or wrong about what we were making. It was art and it was fun. My only goal was to make Terry laugh, his goal was to make me laugh. With a subgoal of Get to the next Good Bit In The Plot Before The Other One did.

I don't remember any disagreements or arguments, any more than you see disagreements and arguments in people doing Improv comedy. We both knew the book we were writing, and each day we'd talk on the phone, the aim being to make the other one laugh. When we did that successfully we knew we were heading in the right direction.

One reason i suspect we never actually wrote the sequel after plotting it is that it would have been a job and not just fun.

It sounds like your collaborations aren't any fun. Better you should do solo stuff.

[tortillamastersblog]

ᗢ Take My Hand | Wanda Maximoff ᗢ

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Warnings: steamy scene, violence, major injuries, and angst

Summary: A collection of the three times you comfort Wanda when she is scared of her own powers. . .

________________________________________________

The first time

“Okay, you’re good to go.” Dr. Cho finishes stitching up my shoulder and gestures for me to get off the table.

I thank her and put my shirt back on, leaving with a smile and a small wave.

The flight back from Lagos was exhausting and I can’t wait to just crawl under the covers of my bed and fall asleep.

I showered earlier and I thought I could go to bed right then and there, but Nat noticed the cut on my shoulder wasn’t healing the way it usually does, so she sent me to see Dr. Cho to get it stitched up.

I make my way through the dark compound and toward my room, expecting to find a familiar redhead under the covers of my bed, but she isn’t there.

I frown and look around, noticing the door to the bathroom is standing slightly ajar, a sliver of light from inside escaping onto the hardwood floor of the bedroom.

I close the door behind me and walk toward the bathroom, carefully pushing the door open and stepping inside.

The sight that greets me makes my heart ache.

The room is illuminated by the flashlight on Wanda’s phone which is sitting on the sink with the screen faced down.

It’s not much, and any other person would have probably missed the dark figure sitting curled up against the shower wall but I don’t because of the connection the mind stone has created between Wanda and me.

We were both experimented on by Hydra, the only two differences being that I was dead when they used the stone on me and they did it when they first got their hands on it back in the 1940’s. I was in the army back then and was killed in action before Schmidt recovered my body, somehow giving me powers and bringing me back to life.

They thought it didn’t work though, which is why they put me on the bomber plane that Steve ultimately crashed into the Arctic. They were planning on throwing my body off out over the sea to get rid of the evidence of their experiments, but because of the turn of events, I was stuck in the ice with Steve for sixty years before S.H.I.E.L.D. found and recruited us.

Wanda’s soft sobs fill the silence, each one making my chest hurt, and I’m quick to rush to her side, kneeling down in front of her after turning off the running water.

The tiles are wet and when I carefully place a hand on her knee, I notice that her clothes are soaked as well.

She freezes and buries her face in her knees even more, the hold she has around her own legs tightening.

“You know you’re supposed to take your clothes off before showering, right?” I whisper softly, not bothering to ask why she’s crying because I already know the reason.

The whole flight back from Lagos she was shaking and staring at nothing with a far off look in her eyes.

She blames herself for what happened and even though people did die because of her losing control, she also saved countless of lives on the ground.

Wanda doesn’t react to my attempt at a joke and I sigh, moving forward and unwrapping her arms from around her legs.

She whimpers in protest but I keep going, slipping my arms under hers and getting up, pulling her to her feet with me.

She sobs and tightens her hold on me, her face landing in the crook of my neck.

“It will be okay, darling,” I whisper, not caring that my clothes are getting wet. “It’s not your fault.”

Wanda shakes her head and another sob escapes her lips.

Then, as if realizing something, she pushes me back and stares at the bandage that pokes out from underneath my shirt.

“You’re hurt,” she croaks. “I hurt you.”

I frown and go to grab her hand, but she pulls away “What are you talking about? You didn’t hurt me.”

Wanda nods frantically and stares at her hands with watery eyes. “You got caught in the blast.”

“Wanda, I did, but—“

“No,” she whimpers. “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.”

Her bottom lip begins to tremble as a tear rolls down her cheek and her knees start to buckle.

Ignoring her hands which are trying to keep me away, I step into her space and wrap my arms around her waist, holding her up.

She fights me for a few seconds, whimpering, “No, no. Get away from me. I don’t want to hurt you again,” before she stops and melts into the embrace.

“You’re not going to hurt me,” I whisper, kissing the top of her head.

Wanda sobs and curls her fingers around the fabric of my shirt. “I’m a monster. . .”

“No you’re not.” I state firmly, squeezing her in my arms.

“You should be afraid of me,” she argues weakly.

I blink a couple of times to get rid of my own tears and shake my head. The fact that she’s thinking of herself like this, makes my heart ache and my throat burn with unshed tears.

“Wanda,” I whisper pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. Her eyes are filled with hurt and despair and I take a deep breath, moving my hands from her waist to cup her cheeks. “I will say this as many times as I have to. . . I will never— you hear me— never be afraid of you and your powers. I love you and you couldn’t hurt me even if you tried.”

A new wave of tears streams down her cheeks and I use the pads of my thumbs to wipe them away. She lifts a hand and places it over my injured shoulder.

“But today—“

I shake my head again and press a kiss to her forehead. “It’s nothing, darling. Please, trust me on that. It’s just taking a little longer to heal because I’m exhausted and drained.”

“Y/N. . .” she protests weakly and I step back and take her shaking hands.

She watches with wide eyes, trying to pull away but I tighten my grip and hold her gaze as I lift her hands and press a kiss to each palm.

“I love you, Wanda,” I say firmly, bringing her hands to cup my cheeks. “And I love your powers. You’re beautiful inside and out and I don’t want to spend a single moment of my life without you. So please, stop. I’m not scared of you.”

Wanda’s red-rimmed eyes dance over my face, obviously looking for any doubt on my part, and when she doesn’t find any, she surges forward and kisses me.

Her lips are chapped and I can taste her tears, but I don’t care, letting go of her hands and pulling her closer.

“I love you, too,” she whispers against my lips before leaning back in, trying to deepen the kiss.

I stop her before she gets a chance though, not wanting to take advantage of her in such a vulnerable moment, and squeeze her hips. “We should get some sleep, darling.”

Wanda sighs and nods, resting her forehead on my sternum. “Okay. . .”

I help her out of her shirt and jeans, giving her one last peck on the lips before leaving her to take a proper shower.

While she showers I change into a new, dry set of clothes and slip under the covers of the bed.

It’s not even five minutes later that the door to the bathroom reopens and Wanda emerges in a pair of sweatpants and an oversized shirt.

I lift the covers with one arm, extending my other in invitation, and let it drop back down once she has slipped into bed, pressed against my side with one of her legs thrown over my hips.

“I love you,” she says when I start running my fingers through her damp hair.

“I love you, too, darling,” I whisper. “Now get some rest.”

Wanda sighs and noses forward, pressing a kiss to the underside of my jaw before settling back down and closing her eyes.

Within a couple of minutes she’s asleep and I continue to scratch at her scalp until I drift off myself.

The second time

I’m as relaxed as ever listening to Wanda playing her guitar quietly.

We’re on our bed with the lights turned down low and a storm raging on outside, the rain and wind whipping against the windows.

Wanda is sitting with her back against the headboard and I’m lying on my side, watching her with adoration.

Her nimble fingers are picking a calming melody and if it weren’t for my inability to take my eyes off her, I would have fallen asleep a long time ago.

It’s been a little over three weeks since the Lagos incident and even though Wanda still feels guilty about it she’s doing better. I’ve done my best to be by her side whenever she has a bad day and keep her from watching the news.

“You’re staring, moya lyubov,” Wanda says, glancing at me before returning her attention to the guitar.

I smile, not at all fazed that I’ve been caught “I can’t help it. You’re just so beautiful.”

She chuckles shyly and continues playing, her eyes meeting mine every now and then before she stops abruptly, catching me off guard.

She sets the guitar down next to the bed and moves to straddle my hips, forcing me to lie on my back.

I blink at her in surprise and raise a questioning eyebrow, my hands automatically moving to rest on her thighs.

“What are you doing?” I whisper breathlessly when her she place her hands on my lower stomach.

Her eyebrows are furrowed and it looks like she’s conflicted about something, but when her eyes meet mine her face softens.

“I love the way you look at me,” she admits quietly, shifting her weight on my hips and I have to bite my tongue to stop a gasp from escaping my lips. “No one’s ever looked at me like you do and I. . . I just love you so much.”

I smile and give her thighs a squeeze to show my appreciation. “I love you, too,” I say, reciprocating the kiss Wanda gives me when she bends down.

I love wholesome moments like this and I kiss back with the intention of keeping things short and sweet, but Wanda seems to have other plans.

She bites my lower lip, slipping her tongue into my mouth and slips her hands beneath my sweater. Her nails scraped against my skin and I groan, feeling a shiver run down my spine.

We’ve kissed and made out before, but this feels different than anything we’ve ever done.

Wanda is kissing me with an unprecedented sense of purpose and urgency and I have to pull back to make sure I’m not reading too much into this.

Despite being together for almost a year now, we’ve never been intimate before. It’s something we’ve spoken about a couple months ago when Wanda stopped a particularly heated make out session, saying she wasn’t ready to cross that line yet. I reassured her and told her I’d wait for her no matter how long it takes and that was that, but now things seem different.

Following our conversation I always stopped things before they could escalate, but now, when I try to pull away, Wanda whines and reattaches her lips to mine in a desperate kiss.

It takes my breath away and we continue kissing for a few seconds before I regain my bearings and place a hand on her shoulder, pushing gently.

“What is it? Are you okay?” Wanda asks breathlessly, her fingers tracing over my ribs beneath my sweater.

I shiver at the feeling and close my eyes for a moment to escape her intense gaze. “Yeah, I-I’m okay. Are you? I mean, is this going where I think it’s going or do you want to stop?”

It’s silent for a second and I open my eyes to find Wanda staring at me with dilated pupils.

“I think I’m ready,” she whispers against my lips, making my heart skip a beat.

“A-Are you sure?” I stutter and instead of answering verbally she resumes our kiss.

It’s hot and open mouthed, and when I squeeze her thighs, a squeaky moan leaves her lips. It sends a spark of arousal through me and I do it again just to hear it again.

“Y/N,” Wanda gasps, sitting up abruptly to take off her shirt before leaning back down to resume the kiss.

My mind is reeling at the sight of her exposed skin and I can’t stop myself from bringing my hands up to her waist.

Her skin is soft and warm and I can’t wait to feel it against my own.

We continue to kiss feverishly until Wanda runs out of air. She disconnects our lips, panting, and I take it as a chance to connect my lips to her neck.

I kiss and suck harshly, not caring about leaving any marks and taking delight in the gasps whimpers it’s eliciting from the redhead.

When I move to the sensitive spot just below Wanda’s ear, she shudders and digs her fingers into my ribs, making me groan.

We’re so caught up in the moment that it takes a second for the sound of breaking glass to register in both our heads. We freeze and pull apart, looking around the room for the source of the sound.

My eyes land on the lamp on the bedside table where wisps of red magic surround the now broken bulb of it.

I chuckle, realizing what’s happened but Wanda remains frozen on top of me. She’s blankly staring at the broken glass and retracts her hands from below my sweater.

“Hey,” I say softly, my voice filling with concern. “Are you okay? It was just an accident. I can replace the bulb in the morning.“

“I—“ Wanda stops herself and stares at her hands in disbelief. “I don’t think I can do this, Y/N.”

I frown and sit up, wrapping my arms around her waist to keep her on my lap. “What are you talking about?”

I hate how quickly the mood has shifted and I hate seeing the familiar look of reproach and regret in Wanda’s eyes.

“I just— I can’t do this,” she elaborates gesturing between us with a shaking hand. “I want to, but I can’t let my guard down. I’ll lose control and I’ll hurt you. My powers—“

I cut her off before she can go on, grabbing her hands and kissing her knuckles. “Hey, no. Don’t do this. We’ve talked about this. You won’t hurt me. I trust you.”

Wanda chuckles sadly and shakes her head. “But I don’t trust myself.”

I sigh. Not because I’m disappointed we were interrupted, but because it hurts to know Wanda still thinks of herself like this.

I rack my brain for new ways to convince her she’s not the monster she thinks she is when I suddenly have an idea.

I scoot back until my back is against the headboard and turn Wanda’s hands around so her palms are facing up.

“Darling, look at this,” I say quietly, letting go of one of her hands.

I flex my fingers and focus on my own powers, feeling a familiar warmth rush into my fingertips until wisps of yellow surround my hand.

They slowly dance around and illuminate Wanda’s face as she watches what I’m doing.

I move my hand toward hers and as soon as our fingertips brush it’s as if my powers coax Wanda’s out of hiding.

Soft red tendrils begin to appear at the tips of her fingers and Wanda watches in amazement as they connect with my own powers.

They dance around each other, mixing and merging around our palms until they’re an orange web of liquid energy.

“Do you feel that?” I ask, referring to the warmth that spreads through my hand and up my arm.

Wanda nods, her eyes glued to our hands and the ever flowing stream of energy between us.

“Does it hurt?” I ask, knowing that it doesn’t but wanting Wanda to actually say it, to admit it, and acknowledge that her powers could never harm me.

“I— No,” she whispers, her eyes meeting mine. “It feels good. I— I feel you.”

I nod encouragingly and interlace our fingers, “Exactly. . . Now you know you won’t ever be able to hurt me, but we don’t have to continue. You can put your shirt back on and we can cuddle and watch a movie and forget any of this ever happened.”

Wanda’s eyes drop back down to our hands, her eyebrows furrowed in though for a couple of moments before she whispers, “No.”

“No?” I question gently, not knowing what exactly she means. I disconnect our hands and will my powers to disappear before placing my hands on her thighs.

Wanda’s eyes meet mine and I gasp when I notice a faint red glow in them. “No. I don’t want to stop,” she admits, her voice raspy. “I want you.”

My eyes widen and my fingers twitch in excitement. “Are you sure?”

She nods and whispers a Yes before cupping my cheeks and pulling me in for a passionate kiss.

In the end, a couple more light bulbs explode and the whole room shakes when Wanda comes for the first time with a broken cry, but no one gets hurt.

Well, that is if you don’t count the countless bruises in the form of love bites on our bodies and the angry red scratches down my back.

The third time

“Wanda,” Vision says, “It’s time.”

Wanda turns and stares at the synthezoid with watery eyes. He’s her best friend and beside me he’s the only one who truly understands her.

“No,” she says sternly, turning back around to watch Thanos taking apart the team one by one.

Vision and I share a meaningful look and I nod in acknowledgment.

“They can’t stop him Wanda,” I say, cringing when Steve gets socked in the face. “But you can. You have the power to destroy the stone.”

Vision nods in agreement and takes Wanda’s hand, placing it against his cheek.

She shakes her head with a trembling chin as her eyes fill with tears.

“Wanda please,” Vision says, his kind blue eyes focused on nothing else but the redhead in front of him. “We are out of time.”

“I can’t,” she whispers, looking at me pleadingly even though there’s nothing I can do. I may have gotten my powers from the stone as well, but I’m not as powerful as she is.

Vision takes Wanda’s hand off his cheek and raises it in front of his face. “If he gets the stone half of the universe dies.”

Wanda’s face contorts with agony and she takes a step back, acknowledging that there’s no other way.

I bow my head, trying to hide my own tears at the imminent demise of one of my friends and turn around to make sure Thanos doesn’t get to Wanda or Vision.

“It’s alright,” I hear Vision say, “You could never hurt me.”

I swallow the growing lump in my throat, remembering how I taught him that phrase before everything went to shit because of the Sokovia Accords.

He called me one evening when I was gone on a solo mission, asking how to calm Wanda down after she accidentally lost control of her powers during a training session.

Thanos catches T’Challa mid-air and slams him into the ground before striking Nat with a powerful fist.

He’s getting too close, I think, getting into a fighting stance.

I raise my hands, letting my powers flow through me until my hands are surrounded by yellow wisps.

I can’t let him get to Wanda. . .

I take a deep breath, getting ready to get my ass handed to me like the rest of the team, when the breath suddenly gets knocked out of me by some invisible force.

I gasp and look around to see what might have caused it when a blinding pain shoots up my spine and through my head.

It feels like I’m being split apart from the inside out and I drop to my hands and knees, blinking rapidly to get rid of the growing black spots in my vision.

I whimper and press a hand to my temple, only for the pain to disappear the next second as though it was never there.

“My love,” Wanda’s voice and her hands on my cheeks make me flinch and when I look up I see she’s kneeling in front of me with concern written all over her face. “What is it?”

I shake my head, confused as to what just happened and take her hands off my face. “I don’t know, darling. Just keep going, I’ll be fine. Thanos can’t get his hands on the stone.”

She watches me with uncertainty, only reluctantly getting back to her feet when I shout, “Go!”

We’re running out of time.

I take a shaky breath and stand up on shaking legs before leaning against a nearby tree.

My eyes land on Wanda as she’s getting back into position to destroy the stone.

I want to get back to shielding her from the incoming Titan, but as soon as her power connect with the stone, the pain returns, and I yelp in surprise, doubling over in pain.

Just like last time, it stops almost immediately and it’s then that I realize what’s happening.

The mind stone brought me back to life, so if it’s destroyed, I loss my powers and I go back to being dead.

When I look up I see the same realization in both Vision and Wanda’s face.

Vision just smiles sadly, knowing this won’t change our shared understanding that the stone has to be destroyed, but Wanda’s paralyzed with horror.

“No.” She shakes her head, tears of despair dripping down her face. “Not you, too. I can’t do this.”

She shakes her head like a kid throwing a tantrum and I have to bite my cheek to stifle a whimper when I drag myself to her side.

“Wanda, there’s no other way,” I croak, wiping the tears off her cheeks.

She sobs and holds onto my wrists with an ironclad grip. “No. No. No. I can’t lose you. You’re all I have left. You’re my everything.”

I force a small smile and try to ignore the agony that washes over me.

Whenever one of us is feeling overwhelmed by an emotion, the other person feels it as well. It’s a side effect of the connection the mind stone has created between us and it usually doesn’t bother me, but right now it’s chipping away at my resolve to save half the universe.

“It’s going to be okay,” I lie even though my heart is begging me not to go through with this.

I’m scared of dying, yes, because I don’t remember what it was like the first time, but what I’m even more scared of is what’s going to happen to Wanda once all this is over.

She has lost so much already and I don’t know how much more she can take before she breaks completely.

“Please, no. Don’t make me do this,” Wanda cries softly, making my own tears run down my cheeks.

I struggle to breath and, not being able to bear the look of complete and utter despair in her eyes, I Iet go of her face and move so I’m standing behind her, her back flush against my front.

I press a lingering kiss to the side of her head, right above her ear, and take her hands in mine, raising them so her palms are aimed at the stone in Vision’s forehead.

“We’ll do it together, darling. I’m right here, okay?” I whisper.

Wanda sobs and whimpers, but a moment later her fingers are once again surrounded by her magic.

“Y/N. . .” she weeps, seeming unable to go through with it, but when I press another kiss to the side of her head, she lets her magic go, directing it toward the stone.

The moment it makes contact, I groan and my grip on the back of her hands tightens.

Her engagement ring glints in the sunlight and even though my body is overwhelmed by all the pain coursing through it, I managed to smile as I remember how I slipped it onto her finger a couple of days ago.

Oh, what a beautiful bride she would have made.

There aren’t many things I regret in life, but not asking her to marry me sooner is definitely on of them.

I would have loved to call her my wife. I would have loved to raise kids with her and I would have loved to grow old with her by my side.

Now, all we have left is this moment and I’m sure as hell not going to waste it.

When the pain turns blinding, I grit my teeth and close my eyes, pressing my nose against Wanda’s neck to breathe her in.

Her body is shaking with sobs and the effort it takes to destroy the stone and there’s nothing I can do to help except comfort her in this defining moment.

“I love you.” I gasp, letting go of her hands to instead wrap my arms around her waist.

I keep saying it with my eyes squeezed shut until the pain suddenly stops.

I don’t feel anything for a heartbeat, but then my blood runs cold and I feel my knees buckle.

My grip around Wanda loosens involuntarily and my body hits the ground hard.

The last thing I’m aware of before slipping into darkness is a pair of warm hands on my face.

________________________________________________

Don’t say I didn’t warn you. . . *insert evil laugh*

Not proofread yet.

[easy-there-leftovers]

A Question Unasked

Written with season 1 Spencer in mind

Summary: In which your ambitious, workaholic nature makes Spencer wonder if you've got a crush on Hotch. This slight hitch in his plan causes him to miss a few signs.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem! (mentored by Hotch!) reader | cw: slight spoilers for s1e04, allusion to inappropriate workplace dynamics (it's not true, relax lol), slight description of canon-typical violence, mildly inaccurate timeframe | word count: 4k

Spencer looks up from his endless stacks of files on his desk to look at the girl on the other side of his desk. Only a single carpeted walkway really separating them.

He could easily just get up and walk right to her. Ask the burning question that's been on his mind since the Arizona case, but he can't.

Why is that?

He's been your friend for a while, and he's known you for a while longer.

With his eidetic memory, he remembers so clearly when you first started working together. He remembers your starched blazer and pressed blouse, a stark contrast to his swimming-in-sweaters look, and how that alone let anyone know that you were serious about uniform and protocol.

You were, without a shadow of a doubt, one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen, and a fresh graduate just like him.

You were smart, beautiful, and started working at the BAU as early as he did.

And because you were new and young, one of the senior agents had been assigned to supervise your progress. So much like how he was mentored by Gideon, you had been mentored by the unit chief himself; Aaron Hotchner.

He'd like to think that he learned a lot from Gideon. He wasn't the type to hold his hand throughout a case, which he is thankful for, but he had been there to encourage him to think more outside the box. To let his mind be more flexible and creative. To see things from every conceivable angle. Leaving no stone unturned.

He supposed you learned a lot from Hotch as well. With your calm exterior, polite demeanor, and calculating mind that occasionally colored your less polite vocabulary-- He didn't know what Aaron must've been like in his junior years, but he supposed that having you as his colleague was essentially the same experience.

What he does know, however, is how close you are to your boss. Or is it your work?

Either way, you being glued to your work almost always meant that you were glued to him by proxy. You two being the first ones in and the last ones out showed that you spent three-percent more of your time with each other than the rest of the team, and two-percent more than with him.

Granted that had changed as of late, but still!

That didn't leave him a lot of time to ask you if---

"Dr. Reid, if you keep staring at me, I don't think you'll be able to finish your action reports on time." You had said without lifting your eyes from your folder.

Having been caught, he cleared his throat with a small 'sorry,' and directed his head back down to his still endless stack of files. The action earning a couple of chuckles from the bullpen where the rest of your colleagues had certainly seen, or at least heard, the exchange.

Not long after however, he saw Hotch from the corner of his eye lean over the railing outside his office. Calling for you both to meet him inside with his usual stern expression.

Spencer noticed how you got up, eyes still zeroed in on one of your files, and continued on your way up and into the unit chief's open door.

A clear sign that you had been invited there often enough that you didn't need to see where you were going.

You expected it.

He sighs and makes his way into the office as well. Dreading what the meeting could even be for, though he's confident he hasn't done anything wrong.

***

"As you might have noticed in our previous cases, I've paired you two to work on the more analytical aspects of it together. With these changes, we've been able to work twice as fast, and we’re thankful for the help."

Whatever Spencer had been expecting, it was not this. His raised eyebrows evidently agreed with him.

It wasn't everyday that Hotch complimented someone like this, much less in the proper environment. And if your respectful posture, but shining eyes in slight pride were anything to go off of, this was something new for you too.

As he was about to voice his thoughts, you had spoken up.

"Sir, Dr. Reid's knowledge in a wide array of subjects has certainly helped with our investigations. Though I'm afraid I haven't done much aside from ensuring it's accuracy and-"

"No! I mean--," He looked to see you already looking at him in slight confusion before continuing.

"She's been a huge help so far and has allowed me to exchange ideas with her to build a more accurate profile. Not to mention that her ability to mediate between departments has been beneficial to gaining access to pertinent information! So I think she's done plenty for the investigations as well." His voice dwindles as he realizes he's rambling on praises and he suddenly feels warm under the scrutiny of both his boss and his colleague.

He just didn't want anyone thinking you weren't doing anything by being humble. Especially since you're both so young.

Thankfully, it's Hotch who speaks up again after a beat.

"So what I'm hearing is that you're both satisfied with this arrangement?"

You both nod carefully and he smiles a small smile at that.

"Then we'll be carrying on with this pairing into the foreseeable future. Should there be any concerns about this arrangement, see to it that it goes through me. We can't afford to lose either of you." He says it with a finality that prompts both Spencer and you to leave with a nod, but the thought is instantly corrected when he speaks again.

"Oh and agent?" He looks only at you, but Spencer looks back as well out of instinct. "A private word, if you please."

Spencer sees you nod without a second thought and he takes it as his cue to hurriedly leave.

***

It hasn't been that long, Spencer argues with himself, since he left the unit chief's office. The blinds aren't drawn, he would know since he'd been looking at them periodically, so he also knows that nothing untoward is happening.

Yet something is bothering him about it.

From his position on his desk, he can see you and Hotch discussing something on his table very seriously, but he also sees how your eyes rarely leave the face of your superior. He can't quite see your expression due to the distance and the light, but he has this sinking feeling that it's a lot like the one from earlier.

He scoffs at the thought. If he wasn't thinking so rationally, he would've thought-

"Does she like Hotch?"

"Who likes Hotch?"

The new voice makes him whip his head back so fast to see Morgan with a confused face. Upon further examination, he sees him holding something that was definitely supposed to be flicked at him if he hadn't been caught so off guard.

He internally debates to voice his opinion, but he does anyway.

"Do you think that she likes Hotch?" He gestures with his eyes to their supervisor's office.

"You're asking me if I think 'little miss perfect' has a crush on a man that's hitched?" Derek echoes back with the use of your nickname. One that he coined as a playful jab at your no-frills behavior.

Spencer cringes when he hears it back though. He didn't ask this to get you in trouble, but it might come across that way now.

"Who has a crush on married man?" Elle joins in, and he only shrinks into his seat more.

"I'm not asking if she has a crush on him! I just want to know if she might like him and--what it is that she likes about him..."

The two exchange looks before looking back at him. Fully knowing that that's not the reason why he's asking, but they humor him anyway.

"Reid, what makes you think she likes him and not literally anyone else?"

"Well. there's her preference for prolonged eye-contact, a common indicator of interest for one. Her being in constant proximity to him, a sign that shows comfort in certain contexts, and then there's the amount of time they spend together."

The last one might be a bit of a reach, considering how you all work in the same area, but at this point he just wanted someone to tell him that he was either absolutely right, or crazy.

"Kid, that's crazy."

Duly noted.

"I'll say.” Elle chuckles out her response. “I haven't thought about it all, but those signs don't really mean anything. It just sounds like she has a habit of looking at whoever's talking to her." She notes, sharing her experience of being on the receiving end of your rather intense gaze.

His other friend adds onto that.

"And the whole closeness thing? You've seen her, she's like a computer with the way she works. She's a workaholic. And Hotch is another. It's just math, Reid."

Spencer furrows his eyes at the man's statement but before he can ask further, he sees you coming out of office and staring at the small crowd that has now formed at his desk.

"Is something going on here?" You ask with tense brows. Eyes flickering to and fro.

He couldn't really think of something on the spot, but thankfully Derek had one at the ready. "Was just caught trying add my stack on to pretty boy's plate."

He sees you let out a small 'hm,' and you eventually turn your back to them to reach your desk.

He sighs in relief as he feels a firm pat on his back from Morgan.

"Next time, try looking at what she does when you're the one talking." He says before leaving to go to his own desk as well.

Spencer doesn't know what good that would do, especially now that he's worried one of his colleagues have caught wind of him liking you, but he at least takes note of it.

--------

He does not, in fact, take note of it until very later.

The team had been called to San Diego to deal with someone they had been calling, "The Tommy Killer." An unsub that had a preference for gluing his victims' eyes open.

As they were reviewing the scene in the jet, they had noticed a few stanzas of a literary work had been left behind at the scene.

"It's a ballad from the late 1600s. A Dialogue Betwixt Death and a Lady." Spencer had mentioned from where he stood.

"A 17th Century ballad?" Morgan had asked him incredulously from his seat, but it’s you who answers.

"One where a woman tries to bribe Death with all that she has in exchange for a little more time to live. Naturally, he doesn't allow it. Claiming that she was undeserving of an exception that even kings were denied of."

Spencer looks up from his own copy to see you still looking at your own from beside Hotch. With your browns furrowing in thought, he almost sees the actual gears in your brain turning.

"So what, are we looking at a literature professor of some kind?" Elle asks which immediately perks him right up.

"Well, actually anyone with access to the internet today. You should see what comes up when you type in the word, "Death" into a search engine." He laughed absentmindedly.

"Reid, no wonder you can't get a date."

Morgan's words made him frown, but he brushes it off.

Hotch, as previously discussed, then called on for the both of you to look deeper into the messages. To see if there was anything new that could be inferred.

He nods at him, and looks up. Expecting you to still be looking at Hotch as well.

Instead, your eyes meet his, but you quickly look back onto your file.

Reid thinks it's just a coincidence.

***

"Creepy, huh?" JJ had asked you two as she approached where transcripts of the written messages were tacked onto a board.

Spencer had been focusing so hard that he was caught off gaurd by her sudden appearance. Fully expecting the area to just be for you and him so he told her what first came to mind.

"Actually, conversations between Death and his victims was a fairly popular literary and artistic theme throughout the Renaissance."

Though perhaps the delivery wasn't as as good as he thought it was as JJ only stared back at him with an unreadable expression.

He thought it was interesting, really, but he supposed his slight stutter and breathy laugh at the end must have distracted her from his point.

He turned to look at you for help, but you too had been focusing on the messages and wouldn't be available to do that. So he just agreed with JJ’s sentiment, which seemed to be enough for her to leave.

He sighed out in relief.

"The lady never answers. Have you noticed it yet, Dr. Reid?" You turn to him as you ask.

He immediately refocuses on to the case and tries his best to reply after his prior blunder. "Oh uh-- Right, the dialogue in the ballad seems to be fractured. Well, it's more of a monologue than a dialogue seeing that there is no exchange of information."

A small smile graces your lips at that, and you gesture with a nod to go report your findings.

"So it is. Let's get going."

He follows you to where Hotch and Elle were discussing the sexual aspect of the crime and sees you take your place next to your mentor. The same position you were in when he was blowing out his birthday candles, as he also inserts himself into the discussion.

"Sir, we believe what the unsub has written at the scenes are most of the first three verses of the same ballad." You deliver, prompting your mentor to raise his brow at that.

"Most of?"

"Yeah, it's only one side of the conversation." Spencer adds. "There's no betwixt." He takes pride in your shared effort, which makes itself known by the smile that adorns his face.

Unfortunately, his satisfaction, isn't met with a positive reaction either as he sees Elle desperately trying not to make eye-contact, and your supervisor staring at him very pointedly.

He's thankful though at the little chuckle that you quickly try to hide behind a cough and a cover of your mouth to appear more professional. Quickly looking down at the ground.

He's happy that at least someone thought his joke was well-placed.

He continues to explain your theory about how the Lady in the narrative never answers, and that's enough for both Hotch and Elle to at least think about it.

Their attention is quickly stolen away however at an incoming call about a failed attempt nearby the precinct.

Quickly excusing themselves to get onto the scene as soon as possible, you see them call Gideon on their way out. Watching them as they leave the department doors.

But Spencer keeps his eyes on you as the thought just dawns on him.

You were the first one on the team to laugh at his jokes.

***

The more cases he works for the BAU, the more he realizes how much of his work isn't theoretical anymore. He feels it in the weariness in his eyes, the weight on his chest, and the shake of his hands.

Or maybe the shake is from the cold.

After all, he had dressed for the warm, California air. So now that he was in the cool, air-conditioned jet, he was seriously regretting not packing a sweater, at the very least.

He makes his way to the back of the aircraft after another successful investigation, and that's where sees you.

You had opted to shed your typically structured blazer on the seat beside you, leaving you in a softer blouse, both in color and form, that made everyone around you know that you were officially off duty.

It's a nice look on you, he thinks. A slight departure from your usually stern and hardened exterior. He wouldn't mind seeing a more relaxed version of you every once in a while.

A version of you that looked more your age and not constantly under the pressure of doing well.

He momentarily wonders if that's part of your mentor's influence as well.

He freezes a bit, as if catching himself in some depraved daydream, and takes a few steps back to return to the more vacant areas of the craft.

Before he can get any further though, you see him and beckon for him to come over with a tired wave of your hand.

"How's the flight treating you, Dr. Reid?" You ask, drowsiness lacing your tone as he sits on the seat opposite of you.

"Oh, it's the same as always, I guess. A little colder than usual, but that's to be expected. By the way, we’re actually lucky that we haven't experienced some semblance of turbulence yet on our flights, considering that the likelihood of it has increased by seventeen-percent in the last decade."

You laugh at that. "You really know just what to say, huh?"

He doesn't see it as funny as you do, so it seems. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you or--" "There's no need to apologize, sir. I find everything you have to say interesting, whether you mean it to or not."

He stays silent at that, suddenly nervous, and tries to make himself comfortable. He does so in the hopes that he can finally steel himself you ask you that question.

He talked to Elle earlier when they were waiting for the unsub's call. Asked her if she thought it was weird that he knew what he knew, and if it had anything to do with his inability to get a date. She had reasoned with him that it was because he didn't ask, but it couldn't be that simple, could it?

He mulls it over in his head before sighing. Opting to give up and just wait for a more opportune time.

Besides, jury’s still out that you could very well be pining over his boss.

The action, however, seems to remind you of something.

"Before I forget," You look into your baggage, rummaging around before finally finding what it was you were looking for.

You ask him to close his eyes, which he obediently does, and you place a thick rectangular box into his awaiting lap.

The sudden shift in weight causes his eyes to open, and he is certainly surprised to see what was on there.

"What is this?"

"It's your birthday. There wasn't a good time to give it to you, so might as well."

He takes the box into his hands and shakes it a little.

From the sound alone, or near lack thereof, there could be a multitude of things inside it. He looks at you questioningly and you only smile and gesture for him to open it.

He takes his time in doing so, and he doesn't know how or why, but he finds your reactions to his movement much more amusing than whatever could be in the box. As if you were more excited for him.

He finally peers into the now open box to see some sort of purple cloth. A ribbon of geometric designs cutting through its middle and he stares at it in wonder.

"It's a scarf!"

You smile at him, and are thankful that the rest of the team were either asleep or just not paying attention as it allowed the both of you to savor the moment with at least some semblance of privacy.

"I've noticed that you had a tendency to wear a lot of layers. I wasn't sure if it was because you were cold, or you just liked dressing that way, so I made an educated guess and got you something practical."

And just like that, he's over the moon.

He immediately goes to put it on with a wide smile, paying no mind that it paired so badly with the short sleeves of his button up.

Not that he would know, nor care.

And just when he had been feeling cold earlier too! "Thank you so much. This means a lot to me, especially since you don't usually give gifts."

You shake your head. "I don't, but it's not everyday one spends their twenty-fourth at the BAU."

He continues to observe the cloth that now hung around him. Smoothing his hands over it as he does with an expression unreadable to you.

You worry a bit and hurriedly mention, "I'm sorry if it isn't your color. I see purple show up on your mismatched socks more than any other color, so I just assumed. If it's any consolation, purple is a great color to contrast the warmer hues in brown eyes?"

He flushes at your admission, but matches your urgency to set you straight. "No! Please, I actually really like it. It's beautiful."

You breathe out a sigh in relief and nod slowly at that.

"Speaking of the color, did you know the origin of purple dye is actually quite fascinating?" His voice filled with enthusiasm. With his eyes, bright, and filled with a child-like fascination that makes your chest feel warm at the sight.

"Historically, purple dye was incredibly rare and valuable, which is why it became associated with royalty and nobility. The earliest known purple dye, known as Tyrian purple, was produced by the ancient Phoenicians around 1200 BC. It was derived from the secretions of a particular type of sea snail, the bolinus brandaris, found in the Mediterranean Sea."

He paused for a moment, wondering if he was boring you, but sees that you're still very much paying attention to him.

"The process to obtain this dye was incredibly labor-intensive and complex. It required thousands of these sea snails to produce just a small amount of dye. The snails would then be collected and left to decompose in large vats. After several days, a gland from the snail was extracted and crushed to produce a purple mucus. This mucus would then be exposed to sunlight, undergoing a chemical reaction that transformed it into the deep, rich purple dye we commonly associate with our modern day equivalent."

As he kept going, he suddenly remembered what Morgan had told him all those weeks ago.

"Next time, try looking at what she does when you're the one talking."

So he does just that.

He observes the way that your shoulders are more relaxed, how your eyes never stray from him, and how the small upturned curve of your lip makes itself known as you rest your cheek onto your propped up fist.

How he has your undivided attention and yet you don't even look the least bit bored of what he has to say. Only silently appreciating and subtly nodding along with the slow blink of your eyelids.

All clear signs of unguarded comfort, and or interest, in his presence.

Had you really been looking at him like that all this time?

Now the idea of you liking your boss seems silly. Especially when you’re looking at him the way he imagines himself looking at you.

"I did know that, actually, Dr. Reid. At the time, Tyrian purple wasn't only desirable for its rarity, people said it was also incredibly lightfast. That it was resistant to fading under the sun and the weather. Not to mention all that hard work that just to get a single gram of it. Then again, modern studies do claim that its lightfastness was, in fact, not an accurate feature as it's color diminished when it was exposed to light and UV radiation."

You laughed a little again, as if remembering some anecdote, and that sound was steadily becoming one of his favorite sounds. Following only after your speaking voice.

"Fortunately for you, doctor, I could only afford a synthetically purple-dyed scarf. Though that means that you won't ever have to worry about it fading under the sun."

Hands up in faux surrender, you give him a tired smile that he returns with one of his own.

A calming silence enveloped the both of you as you continue to bask in each other's presence.

At some point you doze off, draping your blazer on top of yourself to shield yourself from the cold, and that's when he starts considering Elle's words again.

"Do you ever ask anyone out?"

"No,"

"That's why you can't get a date."

He nods to himself, and reclines a little more into his seat. Snuggling into his new scarf that still has the faintest smell of you.

Maybe he will ask you another that date later.

[strwbrryteen]

hoshi and friends with benifts please!!

kwon soonyoung as your friend with benefits

fucky buddy soonyoung with whom you decided this relationship after you had a (what was supposed to be) one-night stand but the night turned out to be to good to be a one-time thing

fucky buddy soonyoung who saved your contact as "best pussy"

fucky buddy soonyoung who is both a body worshipper and a dirty degraded and could almost make you cum by his smooth mouth alone

fucky buddy soonyoung who loves eating you out and whose tongue is smooth in other ways too, from the way he can pull orgasms after orgasms from his tongue alone

fucky buddy soonyoung who has you equally cockdrunk over him as he is oussydrunk over you

fucky buddy soonyoung who fucks you with so much passion and energy, his cock hitting your sweet spot everytime

fucky buddy soonyoung who makes the sexiest grunting sounds in bed, and sometimes woo-hoos after he cums in you (its a little embarrassing but its also so cute you don't want him to stop that silly habit)

fucky buddy soonyoung who eye-fucks you everytime you two meet up in public to have dinner before fucking, and in return you shove your red heels to his crotch (thank go for the long table cloth at you usual diner)

fucky buddy soonyoung who always take you to a good hotel or his room instead of cheap motels because he is not risking any sort of STDs for either of you

fucky buddy soonyoung who has had the biggest fattest crush on you since your first night and it just keeps growing but he is too much of a coward to say it out loud

fucky buddy soonyoung who has fucked you in more positions and places than any of your exes have combined -- from the kitchen to bathroom to the dance studio where he works.

fucky buddy soonyoung who loves experimenting with all of your freaking kinks as you explore with his (both with pre-discussed consent ofcourse)

fucky buddy soonyoung who insists you stay over the night everytime just so he can watch your sweet sleeping figure.

fucky buddy soonyoung who makes breakfasts for you more often than not

fucky buddy soonyoung who has a drawer in his closet for you to keep your extra clothes and toiletries for when you have to leave early in the mornings after your nights

fucky buddy soonyoung who insists you two hang out more often apart from your sexy nights as well because he genuinely wants to know you better as a person

fucky buddy soonyoung whose friends tease him everytime you're around and its hard not to pick up on all these clues, especially from the way he gets so flustered and annoyed at them

fucky buddy soonyoung who you finally confront about his feelings and revealing your own crush for him in the process

fucky buddy soonyoung who is a blushing mess when you kiss him for the first time from love and not lust.

[cobaltperun]

Jerks With Hearts of Gold

Tara Carpenter x female Reader (Request)

Masterlist

@alexkolax here you go, sorry I left his for last, I had a blast writing it! Not sure if this completely fits the frenemies to lovers you requested, but I think it turned out fine. Thanks for the wonderful request! 😁😁💙💙 Also this is merged with a similar request here.

Word count: 4.8k

“No, you hear me! Quit picking apart every single thing you watch!” there they go again…

Sam groaned, burying her head in the pillow as she got front seat experience to yet another argument between Tara and you.

“I’m not! I just can’t turn my brain off!” you exclaimed and reluctantly Sam opened her eyes. There you and Tara were, arguing while the twins and Anika laughed their asses off, because of course they would.

“It’s a horror comedy!” Tara argued back, and by this point someone just needed to nudge either of you and you’d just kiss. But no one was doing that, because, according to Mindy, the professional expert, the two of you would just act disgusted and avoid each other. Meaning it probably happened before.

Although, according to Anika, the two of you were already together. Because, well, Tara brought you into the group. She vouched for you, granted behind your back, but still, she, apparently, hated your guts, yet she was the one who dragged you, literally, into the friend group.

Sam still remembered your valiant efforts to get free from Tara’s grip, yelling ‘Unhand me, Carpenter!’ as loud as it was socially acceptable in a park, while Tara grumbled something along the lines. ‘Trust me, I would, but someone insisted on meeting you!’ to this day they had no idea who insisted on meeting you. Because none of them did! Yet Tara claimed Chad did when he was drunk and that… wasn’t impossible, but it was a bit of a stretch.

At this point Sam was very temped to do it, just shove Tara into your arms. You’d either get together or stop talking to each other for a few days and as far as Sam was concerned either option was a win.

Wait… If you got together, you’d be here more often. You’d argue with Tara even more.

No. No! You would absolutely not get together!

Sam would not allow it!

“It’s too ridiculous to be considered a comedy! The woman’s head gets pulled off her body!” you shouted, arguing about whatever happened in the movie.

“Y/N…” Tara’s eye twitched, but she didn’t need her inhaler, so Sam was at least at peace with that. It really was you and Tara being plain and simple childish.

“And that dance montage? Get that out of here!” you complained and for a moment Sam could have sworn your and Tara’s hands touched, just for a moment.

Tara threw her hands up, so Sam must have been seeing things. “The actors were underage, what did you want?!”

“Not even implications, thank you very much!” well, Sam could see some reason in that argument.

Mindy apparently had enough and snapped her fingers getting your and Tara’s attention, though it was clear both of you were reluctant to give it to her. “Come on, at least agree that the actress is pretty,” she said, and the actress really was beautiful, so hopefully you and Tara could find common ground there. Instead of bickering about that as well.

“Never. She looks like Tara,” you immediately shut the idea of agreeing on anything down.

“Excuse me, what?” Tara demanded. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

You turned back to Tara and slowly smirked. “Oh, you know exactly what it means,” a moment later Tara was storming into her room, her face red with anger, and you as satisfied as you were just sat back down and sipped on your drink.

At least it was clear you and Tara weren’t getting together anytime soon, so Sam could relax.

There was one time she saw this happen and she began threatening you, only for Tara to come out, yelling that she would deal with you and that Sam shouldn’t get involved. Sam sighed back then, accepting that somehow Tara just liked having her buttons pushed by you, and pushing your buttons in return. It was a strange frenemy situation you and Tara were in, but Sam begrudgingly learnt to accept it.

~X~

Jerk, that’s what you were. Of course she knew exactly what you meant, and you were a jerk for that, making her flustered. She was lying on her bed, looking at the ceiling, still blushing, though not as much as when she came into her room. You were still as annoying as you were the first time you met.

She met you in a literature class, and she was the only one taking it so she couldn’t sit next to Mindy, Chad, or Anika. And by pure, dumb, luck, she sat down next to you, and she regretted it immediately as she could smell the cigarette smoke on your clothes and she couldn’t move away since the seats were taken, and well, plenty of students smoked so she kinda learnt to deal with it. Especially while she was going to parties where cigarettes were the least of her problems. As far as her asthma went.

It still irritated her lungs.

“Hey, I’m Y/N L/N,” you introduced yourself and she was weary, of course she was, she was targeted by Ghostface twice. It was a miracle no one she loved was killed the last time, though both Anika and Gale just barely survived.

So, when you immediately introduced yourself she was suspicious, even though she was the one who sat down next to you. It was just her paranoia. “Tara Carpenter, it’s nice to meet you,” she still accepted your hand because she still, despite being paranoid, wished to live a relatively normal life.

And that’s how you met, you didn’t give off psycho vibes, granted neither did Ethan and Quinn, and she didn’t even want to think about Amber. But she felt strangely comfortable, despite the scent of cigarette smoke.

“You okay?” you noticed her discomfort, a lot faster than most people would.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it. Just my asthma,” she smiled lightly, she didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but she didn’t feel like lying.

Your eyes widened and you cursed under your breath, understanding what she meant. And you pulled your chair further away from her. “Shit, I’m sorry. I would switch, but,” you sheepishly rubbed the back of your head. “The only people I know in this class smoke a lot more than I do,” you did get up to open the window a few feet away from you as Tara looked at you, honestly not sure if she should get suspicious or if she should find your actions endearing. “Does this help?”

Tara nodded, it did help a bit. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

She had no idea it wouldn’t even take half an hour for your first argument to happen… And it began so nicely.

~X~

You were grinning like a fool in the Carpenter sister’s apartment, doing your best to ignore Sam’s exasperated look and Anika’s suspicious glances. You’ve come a long way since you met the group nine months ago. They initially glared daggers at you, Sam especially, when you and Tara argued in front of them the first time. Well, argued wasn’t exactly the right word, more like a very heated disagreement on a minor detail in the movie you just watched. Now they just accepted it as normal between the two of you and learnt to ignore or find amusement in it.

You barely even remembered what the book you started arguing about was, but you remembered very clearly what the argument was. And you felt sorry for it right now, as you didn’t know how close to home you were hitting.

“It’s a debate, on whether or not people deserve a second chance,” Tara answered the question the teacher asked.

“Correct, thank you. And what would you say, Miss-“ the man paused, having yet to learn all your names.

“Carpenter, sir. I say it depends on what is done and if there is an excuse and effort to fix things,” she said, convinced of her belief.

She sat down as you watched her, you agreed with her, though in your experience people rarely put enough effort to fix things. Still, you wanted to see how strong her conviction was.

“Does anyone have a different opinion?” the teacher asked and you raised your hand. “Yes?”

“I disagree entirely. It doesn’t depend, there’s no going back after broken trust, there will always be cracks, fears, doubts,” you argued and saw Tara raising an eyebrow as you focused almost entirely on her. “And people rarely put enough effort to make it up to the one they hurt.”

Tara bit the corner of her lip, and you’d later find out it was a habit when she was getting a bit anxious. Since you found out you made sure to never bring her to that point. Well, nowadays your arguments were mostly silly. “It’s not just one person that needs to make an effort. Both need to do their part if they want to rebuild their relationship,” she countered, briefly apologizing to the teacher for speaking out of turn, but the man just gave the two of you a go ahead.

“People who hurt you, truly hurt you, leaving deep scars, emotional or of any other kind, either don’t love you, or have no control over themselves, and it takes a lot of effort to fix the second one,” rare few were strong and mature enough to fix that, to gain control, and not do it again, and even fewer did it while accepting that the one they hurt didn’t owe them a second chance.

“You can’t know what they went through, some people need help to do that,” Tara argued and you didn’t realize until later that day that she wasn’t just talking about some belief she had, that she actually went through that.

“Exactly, because I didn’t do it to them. And I refuse to pay for the damage someone else did,” you countered and the argument continued, going back and forth, without either of you being necessarily wrong or right, it really depended on the point of view. You just had the tendency to be a lot more direct and confident in your arguments, making them sound stronger than they perhaps truly were. Tara was more willing to meet in the middle, to avoid direct confrontation, and it made her a much more pleasant discussion partner.

~X~

Tara scrolled through her photos, through a secret album that required a password, just in case anyone got really curious. The photos were completely innocent, but it was the person she was with that made them a secret. And she grinned, looking at the two of you laughing, your arm around her as you hugged her from behind and she took the picture.

You loved going on her nerves, but you had your moments, rare moments where you were just completely soft with her. She had literature class twice a week, and two weeks in she was a hundred percent sure you were a menace she would gladly kick out of the class, just so she never had to look at your face and smug smile and rare, soft smile, ever again.

She noticed it in the second week, but she wrote it off as an accident. But the scent of cigarette smoke was weaker than the first week. You probably didn’t get a chance to smoke before class. And then the second week she realized she couldn’t smell cigarette smoke on you at all. She was breathing perfectly fine, nothing in her vicinity irritated her lungs, but she didn’t say anything. Surely you didn’t quit cigarettes for her.

Any idea that you did that went crashing down through the closed window on the third floor their classroom was on and landed on the harsh concrete with multiple deep lacerations from the glass. Because five minutes later you were arguing about the book that was assigned to read. Even the teacher was getting a bit annoyed by the two of you at this point. But he encouraged healthy debates, and you and Tara were, technically, still having just a debate.

The week after that, when she once more didn’t smell the familiar irritating scent she just had to ask. “Did you quit smoking?” it was rare for the two of you to have a civil conversation that probably couldn’t start an argument, but maybe this would end like that.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Figured it was healthier, and I really don’t want to trigger your asthma, so two birds with one stone, I guess,” you sounded confident, but you still looked away, proving to her that you could, after all, get a bit shy.

“Oh,” Tara, however, was blushing, the heat in her cheeks was damn near unbearable, because even Sam still smoked occasionally. “Thanks,” she pushed her chair a bit closer to you and pulled her things out of her bag.

“Don’t mention it,” you said softly. And then, as if your softer, gentles, kinder, side ran out of battery, you went right back to how things were the past couple of weeks. “Your essay is nonsense; I don’t agree with one thing you wrote.”

Curse the teacher for making you give each other your assignments to read and debate on! “Yours was complete bullshit, I swear you just typed words until you reached the necessary length,” she fired back, both of you already slightly grinning.

~X~

Tara was easily the best person you could have ended up sitting next to for your literature class, though you would never, absolutely never, say that to her face. The only issue was that you absolutely could not go one class without bickering.

You had a long night at work and were actually quite sleepy during the lesson one time, about a month into the semester, and you were catching every other word at best. Your notes weren’t making any sense, and you even had no energy to argue with Tara. So, maybe, just maybe, the day would end without arguing.

“Here,” Tara sighed, pushing her notebook closer to you near the end of the class and you raised an eyebrow. “Just copy my notes,” she told you.

You smiled, leaning closer to her and if anyone said your shoulders were touching they were being a huge liar. The biggest of them all, because there was absolutely no contact between you and Tara Carpenter.

None whatsoever.

“Tara,” you whispered and looked at her, completely serious. “Your handwriting is awful,” you told her, and you swore you saw a vein pop up on her forehead.

“That’s what I get for trying to help you,” she shook her head in disbelief, though she didn’t take her notebook back.

~X~

You and Tara rarely hung out outside of classes before she introduced you to her friends. But there was one time, when all her friends went back to their parents and Sam was working a night shift, so, Tara went to your apartment, dragged you out of your comfy bed, she actually did that. Well, she tried, she was strong given her size, but she wasn’t that strong.

You still remembered the terror you felt. You opened your doors to Tara, woken up about an hour after you fell asleep and let her in. You didn’t even argue, you just closed the doors behind her and went right to your bed and fell back onto it as she rambled about some party or whatever. Something about Sam not letting her go to a party alone, and you were her only option. How was she even going to explain to Sam that she wasn’t going alone? Sam had no idea you even existed!

Okay, maybe she did know you existed if Tara complained about you, but that definitely didn’t make you a fitting candidate to keep Tara company at a party. You were just about to fall back asleep, Tara being in your apartment didn’t bother you one bit, she’d get bored and leave. But then she began pulling your hand to get up.

“Don’t wanna,” you mumbled sleepily, and surprisingly she let go.

Which was very concerning.

You opened one eye and saw Tara taking several steps back with a very mischievous grin on her face and then charging forward. “Tara!” you cried out, fully awake and jumping to your feet as she landed on your bed, elbow right where your guts was, though you doubted that part was intentional.

Your bed miraculously survived the Tara bomb.

Tara laughed as she rolled to the side, lying her head on your pillow and an annoying part of your brain found the image in front of you rather appealing. “You should have seen the look on your face!” she exclaimed, holding her stomach while laughing.

You smirked, ready for verbal payback. “And you are really eager to ride me,” her laughter stopped, her face turned red and you, satisfied with your work, grabbed some clothes and went to the bathroom to change.

Luckily, you didn’t get too drunk that night and by the morning Sam had no idea Tara spent the night anywhere but in her bed. Though she, truthfully, crashed at your place for the night. You, of course, took the couch. And just thinking about sleeping on the couch made you frown. As that was what you’ve been doing for the past two weeks and your body was starting to get stiff, because that thing was not meant to be used for sleeping for extended periods of time.

You couldn’t say you regretted it though. You just couldn’t wait to get a new bed.

~X~

If there was one thing Tara learnt to appreciate about you, it was how predictable you were with her. Come hell or high water she could count on you to argue with her just because you found it fun to debate about things. And as months passed you went from annoying classmate always playing a devil’s advocate and arguing with her on everything, to an actually pleasant company. Most of the times. Sometimes.

She felt like she could trust you. She felt like she could fall for you and not regret it.0

What she didn’t expect was genuine compassion from you. And it happened so abruptly, so out of nowhere, she couldn’t even see it coming.

The two of you met at the front doors as you usually did for the few weeks prior to that day. And the floors were wet, just recently cleaned, but she was so out of it since she was accidentally reminded of Amber that she didn’t notice and she slipped, falling backwards. She wasn’t sure if she released any sounds, but the next moment you were behind her, holding her firmly, one of your hands on her side, the other around her shoulders, with the back of her head leaning on your chest. You were holding her, making sure you’d take the worst of the fall if you still went down, if you didn’t manage to stand firmly enough on the slippery floor.

“I got you,” you told her, clearly concerned, and Tara just leaned against you, barely supporting her weight.

“Can I trust you?” she asked, almost out of breath.

You nodded, your eyes filled with conviction. You weren’t messing around, you weren’t going to argue, you were there, one hundred percent. “I’m here for you, anytime,” you assured her and she grabbed onto your hand, still on her side, accidentally covering one of her stab wounds, and Tara, surprisingly felt completely safe, protected.

“Skip class with me?” she asked and you nodded, helping her regain her balance and the class was soon forgotten. She took you to your place, since Sam was still at home and your place was closer anyway.

You didn’t say one word, but you remained close to her, your hands brushing against one another as you walked and when you went into your apartment you sat down right next to her. Your presence was comforting, though at this point she wasn’t surprised by that.

Tara took a deep breath, preparing herself for what she wanted to do. She wanted to let you in, to fully trust you, to introduce you to her friends and Sam. “Do you know what happened in Woodsboro?” she began and your eyes widened, and that was all she needed to know as she began talking. She poured it all out, Sam, Amber, deaths of her dear friends, the betrayal, coming to New York, and what happened with Richie’s family, she told you everything. Every single feeling she had, things she found difficult to talk about with her therapist, or even with Sam, it just all burst out, like whatever contained those feelings suddenly burst and cracked, letting it all out.

And you remained silent, though you hugged her, tight and gentle at the same time. And it felt so good she climbed onto your lap, clutching at the back of your shirt, clinging to you as hard as she could. You didn’t complain, you just wrapped your arms around her, pulling her closer, your hands trembling slightly in barely concealed anger. Hearing you gritting your teeth, feeling your fingers twitching, and your body just barely relaxing when her warmth and weight, and voice right in your ear would remind you that she was, in fact, still here, it all felt good to her.

It felt like she was, at least a tiny bit, being released from the horrors she went through.

Though she still didn’t introduce you to others, it took nearly four months for that to happen, and by then, well, a lot of things happened.

~X~

You figured enough time passed that you could move away from your spot and leave the conversation you were having with Chad. “Sorry, I’ll be right back,” you purposely pointed toward the bathroom and hopped to your feet. You went into the hall, and making sure no one was behind you, just went the opposite way and snuck into Tara’s room.

She turned on her bed and smiled, reaching out for you as you knelt on her bed and kissed her soft lips. Damn, you wished you could do this freely, just kiss her whenever you wanted, but you understood her friends might not be ready to accept you as Tara’s girlfriend, and not just classmate she loved bickering with. You licked her lips, just lightly teasing her as she hugged you, her fingers already gently massaging the back of your head.

“I can’t believe the bickering is still working,” you muttered between the kisses. Sure, you and Tara still enjoyed an occasional debate here and there, but you stopped bickering almost a year ago! And the bickering still worked on her friends! And you’ve been sneaking behind their back, sneaking in kisses all over Tara’s apartment. In the kitchen, bathroom if you were really desperate, or the hall if you were feeling rather bold, but for the most part it was in her room, just like this. Tara would storm into her room, you’d wait, and go after her, sneaking a quick make-out session in before you’d come back from wherever you were.

Things were a bit different this time around, as Tara kissed you harder than before, pushing you until your positions were switched and she was straddling you. She grabbed onto your collar, pushing it to the side so she could kiss the spot where your neck and shoulder met, and, though a bit risky, she decided to leave a mark, biting the spot and sucking as you grabbed onto her hips to steady yourself.

“Tara,” you sat up, you both knew you didn’t have much time. “We shouldn’t risk it,” you told her, but you still pulled her in for another kiss, your tongues meeting as her hands gripped your shoulders.

“Just a bit more, I miss this,” she admitted, and you missed it too, and it was worth getting caught to you, but you weren’t completely sure it was worth it to Tara.

In the end, you just said screw it and kissed along her jaw, gradually going lower until your lips met her neck.

“Remember how flustered you got when I kissed you for the first time?” Tara asked out of blue, sighing and holding your head close to her neck. Well, maybe it wasn’t completely out of blue, next week would be a year since you got together.

“You were so damn smug about it,” you grumbled, though you still kissed the side of Tara’s neck, paying extra attention to the more sensitive spots, while, much to your annoyance, making sure you didn’t leave marks anywhere visible.

“Mhm, you deserve it for making me work for it,” she grinned, her hold on you growing stronger as she bit her lip to stop herself from moaning.

You pulled back and looked her in the eyes and then at her lips, inviting, beautiful. She was absolutely the most beautiful woman you ever saw, so no, Tara wasn’t pretty. She was much, much more than that. And you kissed her, pouring all of your passion and love for her into the kiss, deepening it as Tara moaned. The feeling of her body pressed against you made you wish you could just stop hiding from her friends and Sam.

And then four very loud gasps, followed by yelps and doors slamming against the wall and then bodies stumbling onto the floor on a pile of limbs and everything else, with poor Chad underneath the three women broke you and Tara apart.

“Y-You two are-“ Mindy stuttered, and you had to admit you enjoyed the professional expert being surprised.

“Together? Yes,” you shrugged, the cat was out of the bag, and you couldn’t exactly say you were arguing telepathically and needed to have your tongue deep inside Tara’s mouth to do so.

The four of them scrambled to their feet and just looked at you and Tara like nothing ever surprised them as much as this.

Eventually, Anika got over her surprise and offered an open palm to Mindy and Chad. “Pay up, I guessed it right,” Anika demanded from them.

The twins groaned and you and Tara watched incredulously as they each pulled out twenty bucks and gave them to Anika. But nothing, not twins and Anika betting on whether you and Tara were together, not their surprised faces, not your secret being revealed, nothing. Absolutely nothing compared to Sam’s expression. She looked like someone completely shattered her brain.

“Sam?” Tara tried calling her sister, just to snap her out of the stupor.

“You two… for how long?” Sam managed to utter.

“Uh, before you guys even met me,” you admitted sheepishly, and nudged Tara to get off your lap, but she was comfortable and very few things could get Tara off your lap, especially now that you two got caught.

Not that you minded, you loved when she was on your lap, but her sister might get a heart attack if this continues, and you didn’t want Sam to die.

Sam nodded, she nodded several times, humming to herself before she just walked out of Tara’s room. “She’ll get used to it,” Tara shrugged as Sam gave you two a thumbs up.

Sam took a deep, rather audible breath and came back, pointing right at you. “Don’t break Tara’s heart,” she warned with her best glare, which was actually intimidating.

“Yeah, don’t worry about that,” Tara reassured her before you could answer, and frankly, you loved how quickly she said that. “We kinda broke her bed back at her place, so… not saying that won’t happen ever again,” she chuckled sheepishly as your eyes widened and you all turned to Tara. Well, you did break the bed, but she did not need to tell them that.

Sam opened her mouth, but then closed it as Tara shrugged, acting like she was completely innocent in that case of property damage.

“I think we might have broken Sam,” Tara told you, clearly surprised that that was even a possibility, and she glanced at the rest of your friends and then gestured at the doors.

“Right! Got it!” they scampered outside as you and Tara chuckled, and just like that you were alone once more.

“I love you, you know,” you said as you kissed her cheek and she just grinned.

“I know,” she smirked, barely holding her laughter back as you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, come the fuck on!” you groaned, dropping down onto the bed and pulling Tara on top of you.

Tara laughed like she just heard the best joke ever. Well, she did love teasing you. “I love you too,” she said as her laughter subsided and she kissed you on the lips.

[writerpetals]

mbfw: jealousy | 🔞

; optional male lead smut |  ☁️

w / au's: werewolf!au, bestfriend!au, getting you off with his fingers (again) ...

summary: he takes you to a party where another wolf hits on you, leading to a fight between the two of you

a/n: part three to my best friend's werewolf !! part two: mbfw: boundaries i have a lot planned for this AU but this might be the final part for a little bit~ <33 (i actually have something so unhinged planned for this au... i'll just say hope you've been doing your cardio because you're running through the woods from him one of these days)

words: 6679

“Don’t you have any other friends you can beat in Mario Kart?” You groan at your best friend as he places first in the third race in a row. It was just supposed to be a chill Saturday after finals. Not too long and you’re free from school. You’re settled between the boxes of pizza on his bedroom floor, when he drops the controller to the ground and leans back against his bed frame. 

“No, I don’t like hanging out with people.” He begins flipping through his phone before quickly showing you a video of a kitten, making you both giggle. “Cute.” You roll your eyes at him.

“We hang out all the time.” You lean next to him, watching the videos that pop up on his screen together. 

“You’re you, not people.” You hum at his response, watching another video until he closes the app. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

The mood shifts. It always does when the wolf is mentioned. You shrug and grin, trying to ignore it. “I’m not one to kiss and tell.” 

“You kissed him?”

“Yeah?” You blush, heat filling your face.

“Was he… a good kisser?” Why does he sound nervous when asking? He must pick up on you noticing. “I’m asking to make sure he's’ not crossing a line. And to make sure you’re still enjoying it.”

“You don’t have to worry about him, okay?” You reach out and nudge his arm. “Tell me a story from your sex life so I don’t feel so exposed.” 

He laughs and shakes his head, in deep thought for a second. “I once was in a girl’s pool. Her parents weren’t home. Well, they weren’t supposed to be. Suddenly they’re there with the lights blinding us and I can’t find my swim trunks.”

Your jaw hangs open seconds before you’re bursting into laughter. “What the fuck did you do?”

“I did the respectable thing and ran out of there butt naked. What else could I do?”

Your sides begin to hurt. “I’m having the funnest time picturing that! How could you never tell me?” You fall into him as you laugh, but he can only shake his head and grin.

“I didn’t want you to know me like that,” he whispers. Your laughter begins to die. 

“Well, I can’t say much,” you say, settling next to him once again with arms wrapped around your knees. “You’ve had all these experiences and I’ve had none.” 

“I know. I made sure to keep guys like me away from you.” You frown at his confession. Was he serious? 

“Guys like you?” The sweetest, kindest, most selfless guy you know wanted to keep guys like him away? “Why-”

“I didn’t care about those women,” he interrupts, running a hand through his hair. “I just wanted somewhere warm to stick my d-”

“Okay! I get it!” You hold your hands up, stopping him. “Let’s not talk about these girls like they’re not people with feelings.”

“Sorry.” He sighs, leaning his head against yours. “Still getting used to this whole thing. Talking about our sex lives. I don’t think about women that way, anymore, if you’re worried. I was a stupid, horny kid.”

“Good. As long as you’re more respectful now.” He pulls away and nods his head, clearly unhappy with his past behaviors, but it shows he’s learned and grown from it. “Or else I would have to kick your ass.”

“You?” he asks, a devious glint in his eye. “Kick my ass?”

Before you know it he’s grabbing you to stand, turn, and pull you to the bed. His hands are everywhere as his fingers unleash a ruthless attack against your ticklish sides.

“Stop!” You squeak, but then you’re giggling and squirming beneath him. He’s laughing at your attempts to get away from him. “Stop right now or I’m calling your mother.”

That gets him to stop, but now you’re breathless from laughing so hard. You assume he’ll pull away, but he only leans in, burying his nose into your neck as his hands grip your wrists. He pins your hands above your head while he takes a long, deep inhale of just you. Your body shivers beneath him while he runs his palms down your arms, your sides, your hips, and finally your thighs, slowly caressing your body from top to bottom.

Then he pulls away, clearing his throat. “Wolfie said you were beginning to not smell like us. He didn’t like it.”

You’re shocked, jaw slacked, still trying to catch a breath. “Wolfie said?” 

He shrugs. “Yeah?” 

You look down at yourself still laying on his bed as he hovers over you. You pull your shirt to your nose as you sit up cross-crossed, inhaling. “I smell like the perfume you got me for my birthday so I will never understand this scenting thing.” 

He smiles. “Other wolves can smell it. Since you’re going to the party tonight with me, it’s important you smell like me so every wolf there knows you’re claimed.” 

“Hmm, interesting,” you hum as he takes a seat next to you on the bed. “What if they think we’re together? Like, you and me and not your wolf side?”

“They’ll just assume we’re fucking. Don’t worry about it.” 

Your eyes go wide. “What?!”

“Humans don’t get invited to these parties because they’re mated. They’re there to fuck wolves. Why do you think I didn’t want you to go in the first place?”

“So they’re going to think I’m some kind of werewolf bunny?” Frowning, you try to wrap your head around it while he laughs. “Is that what you would call a human that dates werewolves?”

“If you want me to call you bunny, I can.” You shove him while he laughs.

“No thanks.” Then you sigh. “I asked him if you were okay with this. Like, actually okay. He said I created you and you both only want what’s best for me.” It’s silent for a moment, bringing the conversation back to earlier and what happened between you and his wolf.

“Yeah?” He crosses his arms and nods, eyes fallen to gaze at the floor. “Makes sense, I guess. I mean, you’re my best friend. Of course I want what’s best for you.”

“But, what if something happens one day?” He turns to look at you and you offer a shrug. “What if we stop being friends?”

He frowns. “Why would we ever stop being friends?”

“I don’t know. Weirder things have happened.” Look at the situation you’re in now. Not that you would ever consider not being his friend. It’s simply out of the question and why you’re trying so hard to make sure he’s okay. “Hypothetically, then, what would that mean for your wolf side? I can’t continue with this if it’s going to cause complications in your life.” 

He bites his lip, taking in what you’re saying. Then he exhales and his shoulders slump.

“Do you feel happy?” His question catches you off guard. You were talking about him. Why is he making this about you?

“Yes. I’m happy,” you tell him honestly. The wolf side of him may scare you a bit, but it’s still your best friend. “I don’t know if he’s capable of it, but I just feel so loved in the most physical sense with him. He’s taken care of me in the most intimate kind of ways. It’s like I can just turn everything off and experience this otherworldly pleasure from someone who is also my favorite person in the world and it makes me so… happy.”

He grins at that. “Then what else is there to worry about?” 

“I don’t want to be selfish,” you whine. Why is he being so difficult? Just talk about your emotions! He’s not usually this stubborn. “If you’re unhappy or this is getting in the way of you living life then I need to know!”

He shakes his head and laughs, turning to look you in the eyes. “Why is it so hard for you to accept being first on someone’s list?” Now that has you shocked. Your jaw slacks. He reaches for you, grabbing your hand to force you to listen to him. “You’ve never felt like you deserved to be my friend and now you feel like you don’t deserve to be my wolf’s mate. There’s only one person here unworthy and it’s not you, so just stop worrying. You’re worth every ounce of love either of us give you.” 

Okay now you really were crying too much lately. How is your best friend always so sweet with knowing the perfect thing to say? You just did your makeup for the party before coming over, too. You begin batting your eyes so black mascara doesn’t drip down your cheeks.

“Is it something in your scent that makes me so emotional lately?” you ask him with genuine concern, but he just starts laughing at you. “I swear I’ve cried more in the past few weeks than my whole life!” 

“It can make things more intense.”

“That’s what he told me.”

“Why did he need to tell you that?” 

Shit. You told on yourself. You have no choice but to finally tell him what happened. He turns away to lean against the headboard as you take a deep breath. He stares at you, not so patiently waiting for your answer.

“Well, the last time I saw him, when I … finished… I began crying. I’m not sure why.” You shrug, looking down at your crossed legs, thumbs circling each other. “Not out of hurt or anything. I just felt overwhelmed.”

You dare to look at him looking at you. His jaw is tense for a split-second. “Come here.” He motions with his head for you to come closer as he rests against the headboard of his bed. 

“Am… am I in trouble?” you ask which has him grinning. 

“Come here. You need more of my scent on you before we leave for the party. I don’t need any young, dumb ass wolves getting ideas.”

Makes sense to you, sighing and making your way over to him. Your head falls to his chest, hand resting against his stomach, and he holds you with an arm around you. It’s definitely not the first time you’ve cuddled with him. He always felt so warm and safe. Sometimes you would do it just to fall asleep. He was a sweetheart because he never minded. 

“Speaking of scents,” you begin, feeling him angle his head so he can look at you, “what if I wear your clothes and I’ll smell more like you?”

“You’ve been wearing my clothes.” It’s true. His hoodies are the coziest. You can’t help that. They all smell like him to you, so you know they would ward off any wolves. 

“Well, yeah, but I could wear something of yours every day to keep Wolfie happy.”

“Okay, yeah,” he nods, clearly liking the idea. “That will be good. Wolfie will be happy.”

***

You show up to a bar wearing a large, faded sports t-shirt of his and bike shorts underneath. The shirt smells enough like him already and it’s super comfy. You call that a win-win. He’s wearing his typical black tank top considering it’s nearly summer and now you realize why he’s always so hot. The bar is right outside of town, in the darkest, scariest backwoods spot you could imagine. You think you saw a place just like this in a scary movie. 

The vibe of the party feels way more mature, however. It’s a mix of ages in the place with music playing out of a jukebox and a flirty, fangy bartender serving drinks. Her smile is bright with pointy canines as she notices the two of you walking in, offering a wave to him that makes you feel… something inside of you. She’s gorgeous. You wonder how they know each other. 

You push the thoughts aside and follow him through the bar to have a seat in a bar stool at a small table near the back. He tells you he’ll be right back, he’s going to get drinks. So you scope the place out. There’s eyes on you, no doubt. Some look away when you catch them staring, some don’t. They all feel intimidating to you. You wonder who is wolf and who is human here. It’s clear what they’re thinking. You’re hooking up with him and that’s why you’re here. 

Other than the gawkers, the place is lively. There’s lots of singing, drinking, and some dancing. Plenty of laughter to go around and if you were a wolf, you know you would feel right at home. Sadly, you’re just a human with a wolf best friend, and you don’t know a single person here. It intimidates you, if you’re honest. How could you fit in with this crowd as a human? 

As you ponder the thought, a man sits in the stool opposite of you at the table. He catches you off guard, making you gasp as he winces and raises his hand.

“Sorry, sorry!” he apologizes. “Just smelled fresh human meat and that I’d introduce myself.” His words slur as he speaks the bold words, but he laughs so genuinely you know he’s just drunk. You begin to chuckle at him. 

“So it’s that obvious I’m human?”

He sighs and shrugs. “We have wolf senses. It’s not your fault you smell like you just stepped out of a perfume commercial with sweet, chocolatey desserts. Not an earthy undertone in sight. Or… smell, I guess.”

This has you laughing harder. This drunk wolf is actually funny, and taking your attention off the ones that wish to stare. 

“Sorry, I know dogs can’t have chocolate.” You bite your lip, hoping you didn’t overstep with this stranger, but he throws his head back to laugh a second later. You can’t stop smiling. 

“That is the funniest thing a human’s ever said to me.” His complement fuels your ego. Maybe you can get to know some of these wolves around here. The thought excites you, wanting nothing more than to fit into all aspects of your best friend’s life.

Speaking of your best friend, he comes back to the table with two drinks in hand with a pissed off look on his face.

“C’mon, we can sit somewhere else. It’s crowded.”

Your jaw hangs open, shocked at his words. “Don’t be rude. There’s two more seats.” 

“I said let’s go,” he insists, lowering his voice and looking down at you. 

“And I said don’t be rude.” You stand to take a step toward him, brow wrinkling and arms crossing. “Why are you talking to me that way?” 

The drunk wolf looks on with a smirk, eyes bouncing between the two of you. He looks at the drunk wolf, then back at you. 

“Just do what I say.”

“You’re not my father.”

“Why are you being stubborn? Here, I got you a drink.”

You huff and snatch the fruity looking drink from him. “I’m allowed to have friends.”

“I’m not saying you can’t.” He’s an inch from your face now, voice a whisper with a warning in his eyes. “Let’s just sit somewhere else.”

You stare up at him. “Go talk to someone else with that attitude.” You bring the cup to your lips to take a sip. “Thanks for the drink.” You have a seat on the stool and turn back to the drunk wolf. You hear a sudden splash of liquid hitting the floor. He’s crushed the cup in his hand and you notice the darkness taking over his expression just a second before he turns to walk away from you. 

He leaves you to talk to your new friend in peace. You hate arguing with him, but he has to know that if he brings you to these parties, he has to let you be social. Doesn’t he want you to fit in? 

“So, what’s your name, sweetness?”

Okay, you don’t love the pet name. If you’re honest, it makes you feel a little nauseous. But maybe he’s just drunk, you decide. Maybe he’s overly friendly. You tell him your name and he tells you his. He begins talking about a fight that broke out at this very table the week before. Suddenly, he’s not so funny. 

You look around the bar, spotting your best friend talking with two girls. Two wolf girls, mostly likely. They’re near the bar and his back is to you, but their eyes are trained on him strictly. They hang on to his every word like he’s preaching and you absolutely hate the way they begin to giggle at him. He gives them a shrug and smiles at them before stepping away and you’ve seen enough. This will be your last werewolf party you attend.

You leave the drunk wolf at the table and storm off, passing your best friend on the way out. He tries to speak, but you ignore him, heading straight for the exit. You hear his footsteps behind you, knowing he is following you out into the night’s warm air. 

“Wait up!” He calls after you, but you ignore him. You continue to walk away from the bar, into the darkness between all the parked cars. “I said wait!” He finally grabs your arm, stalling your steps as you nearly crash into him when you’re turned around. 

“Let me go!” You struggle against him until he releases you. “If every party of yours ends with you pissing me off then why did I even come?!” 

He takes a step back. Gulping, he runs a hand through his hair. “Why did you storm off? You’re the one that was chatting up the biggest wolf slut known to our kind.”

“Huh?” Your face twists in confusion. The drunk wolf?

“He only fucks humans. I bet that didn’t come up in your conversation.” His nostrils flare and his jaw tenses up. Now you’re both pissed off. “He finds every new human that comes to that bar, chats them up, makes them laugh, fucks them, then forgets about them.”

That’s why he was trying to pull you away. “Why didn’t you just say that?” You thought you might have found a new friend. The news doesn’t just feel like a slap in the face, but a dagger to the heart. You only wanted to fit in in his world. 

“I didn’t want you to feel worse. You were already upset about the wolf bunny stuff.” He sighs and his shoulders slack. “Why did you storm out of the bar like that? Did he do something?”

“No, you did something.” You huff and cross your arms over your chest. “You left me to go talk to other girls so why should I have stayed?” 

He stares at you, blinking. “You were upset I was talking to someone else.” 

“Wolf girls! That probably want to mate you with and wonder why you’re with a human.” 

He laughs. Actually laughs, and shakes his head. “I didn’t know you were a jealous person.”

You didn’t either. You don’t know why seeing him with someone else caused such a reaction. You just know you feel relief now that it’s just the two of you in the darkness. 

“I’m not jealous, I just thought you were mad at me and maybe those girls would be better for you than me, and ugh, I don’t know what I thought.” The tears begin to swell in your lids. You turn away from him, ready to call a cab to take you home. You aren’t used to this. You need to get yourself under control instead of crying every time you talk to him. 

“Come here,” he commands behind you, making his way to grab you once again, spinning you around to face him. This time, he doesn’t let you go. “What kind of friend would I be if I let you walk away crying? Look, I should have handled that guy better. It was a new place for you, but I saw you laughing with him and I just got pissed. I don’t know why. I’m sorry.”

You sniff and pat a tear away, not wanting to smear your makeup. “I get it. It’s okay. I guess I’m just mad at myself, too.” You sigh and take a step closer to him. “I shouldn’t have acted like that, but this is still so weird to me. I don’t know these people and honestly, I just like it when it’s you and me.”

“I know. I shouldn’t have brought you.” He places his hands on your arms. “I just want you in my life and now you know this whole other side of me. I wanted you to know that side, too.”

“Of course I want to know that side. I’m sorry for getting upset.” You offer him a sad smile. “When I saw you with them, I just, I don't know. Got scared. I don't want to lose either of you, but how could I stop you from your own happiness? What if you wanted to talk to them? Go home with them? I can’t get in the way of that.”

“You’re not,” he says with a stern tone. “Don’t think that way. Remember what I told you.”

You sniffle once again and nod. “Okay.” You decide to trust him. He’s your best friend, so you know he wouldn’t keep things from you. Well, except that he was a wolf, but he had good reason. “Did Wolfie almost come out back there?”

You remember the spilt drink and the crushed cup. It’s clear he was overwhelmed with emotions. Only Wolfie could do that to him. 

“He tried, but I was stronger tonight.” He sighs, taking a step back and rubbing the back of his neck. “I couldn’t stand the fact that my best friend and I were fighting. I had to give you space. I couldn’t let him come and pull you away again. You would have only been more angry at me.”

“He could have. Would have avoided all this drama, though.” Your joke earns a laugh. Your chest feels a little lighter. 

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” he warns you as the two of you make your way to his car. “He’ll never let you go anywhere.”

***

You decide to stay the night at his place since his roommates are both out until the following day. It’s closer and you’re beyond tired from the night. You’ve never dealt with so many emotionally charged situations. It’s beginning to take its toll on you. 

“Are your roommates wolves, too?” you ask in a sleepy voice as you make your way to his bedroom, grabbing your bag to clean your make-up off. 

“Yes,” he sighs, falling into the bed and closing his eyes.

“What?!” You would have never guessed. Maybe that’s why they always acted funny around you. They probably smelled your best friend all over you and made assumptions. Then you let out a horrid gasp, thoughts running through your head before you can catch up. “Can wolves smell periods?”

He opens one eye to look at you. “Yes.” 

So that would explain the random gifts of chocolates, books, pain relievers, and anything else his sweet self could think of to help you. You always wondered how he showed up at the perfect times of the month. 

“That’s incredibly embarrassing. I don’t know why I asked.”

He offers a sleepy smile. “We smell the changes in the body for mating purposes, not so much anything else. Relax.” 

You tuck your bag with your nightly face routine items under your arm and step toward his door. “Well, thanks for all those perfectly timed gift baskets over the years anyway.” You step out of the room to wash your face at the bathroom sink. For a guy’s bathroom, it’s surprisingly clean, but you know he’d have a fit if you were to come over to see a mess. You’ve caught him yelling at those roomies to clean up once before.

You spend a few minutes washing your make-up away and applying moisturizer before heading back into the bedroom. You set your bag down as you spot him on the bed. Normally if you needed to stay the night, he would take the floor. He’s currently shirtless, the covers up to his waist as he leans against the headboard. He’s scrolling through his phone, but the moment he looks through his lashes up to you, you realize it’s no longer your best friend. 

“Come here, baby,” the wolf says. Your heart begins drumming. His voice is low, smokey to cloud all your senses, wrapping around your body to pull you closer. You step toward him. “I missed you.” 

You have no choice but to obey. You crawl to him from the foot of the bed. When you’re close, your eyes rake down his chest and stomach as you settle on the heels of your feet. You rest your palms against your knees and take a deep breath.

“Me too,” you admit. “I was hoping to see you tonight.” 

He smirks. “Aren’t you sweet.” His eyes trail down your body, inhaling a deep breath. “And you smell like me. You’re just perfect, aren’t you?”

Heat floods you. His compliments always feel like a warning, but the way they make you so hot has you disregarding all intuition. This is a dangerous wolf you’re dealing with, but you’re so drawn to him you can’t even remember a time before him. You feel like you need to see him as if it’s your last breath. 

“I had a question,” You tell him, scooting a little closer. You hear his breath deepen, as if he needs his senses full of you. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me, and you want to do what’s best for me, so I’m in control, right?”

He stares at you with darkness, desire, etched in his features. You’re walking a dangerous line and he lets you know by the look on his face. You’re confident he would never hurt you. It’s still your best friend.

“If it makes you feel better to think that, sure.”

He did warn you before he was in control, but you think this wolf is all bark and no bite. He’s only been a gentleman this entire time. Sure, he’s intimidating. What wolf wouldn’t be? His actions prove your curiosities to be right.

“Can I… touch you?” You ask in a whisper. The way his eyes flutter as he takes in another deep inhale tells you there’s something else to the question. Another layer of darkness you’re missing.

“If you can handle the consequences, touch me all you want.” Your heart races at the threat. Maybe he’s not all bark, but you’re willing to find out. You want to feel close with him, touch him, just like he has each time you’ve been together. You don’t want to hide from him, even if it hurts. 

You crawl closer, slowly, still unsure if this is the right thing to do, but you place one thigh on his other side as you straddle him. You’re close to trembling with your hands falling to his bare shoulders, feeling his warm, smooth skin beneath your touch. He takes in a deep breath, body tensing beneath you as you rest your weight down onto him. The sheet remains between the two of you, unsure of what he has on underneath, but you’re still dressed in his t-shirt and biker shorts. 

“Careful, baby.” Another warning for you to ignore. He smirks and licks his lips, hands rising to rest along your hips. “I only have so much restraint. After that stunt you pulled tonight, it’s wearing even thinner.” 

“Tonight?” He knows about the argument, of course. He almost made an appearance at the bar, so of course he knows. You aren’t sure why you didn’t think of having to answer to Wolfie as well, but now you’re a little more hesitant to be straddling him on his bed. “It was just a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding?” He chuckles in a low voice that vibrates you to your core. “The only misunderstanding here is you not believing me when I say you’re mine. That means no other wolf gets the pleasure of breathing your scent, got it?” His hand rises from your hip, up your chest to wrap fingers around your neck. “Which means no other wolf better think about fucking you, do you understand that?”

There’s a dangerous drip of venom to each syllable and suddenly you’re not sure he doesn’t have a bite. The situation has made a much darker side come out, no doubt jealous of the drunk wolf at the party. Now you regret wanting to be so close to him when he’s so worked up. You had no idea this is the wolf you would be facing. There’s an edge to the way he talks to you. You know you should have heeded the warnings before. 

“I’m sorry, I just wanted a friend.” You gulp, feeling the heat of his palm on the side of your neck. He looks at you, running his thumb along your bottom lip.

“You have one,” he replies, the hand resting against your waist pushing you against him to feel just how worked up he is between your thighs. “I’m all you need. So, touch me like you said. You don’t want to keep me waiting.” 

Your body temples at the end of touching him like you previously wanted to. His words don’t invite you, they’re daring you. Touch your wolf just to see what happens. You were never one for making the best decisions, so you begin trailing your hands from his shoulders down his chest. Your palms smooth over soft skin, feeling every hard ridge and curve. Your fingers brush against his stomach, eyes following your touches as he only stares at you. His body tenses beneath your touch. His breaths deepen. 

You brush just above where the sheet rests. Daring yourself, your fingers grip the folded fabric with a shaky hand, releasing a quivering breath seconds before you will yourself to pull the sheet back.

But his hand is around your wrist before you can think. His grip is fiery hot, tight, against your flesh, looking up at him with a gasp. 

“I told you to be careful.” The words are deep and raspy, as if he’s a man holding on to the last thread before insanity. 

“You told me I could touch you,” you whisper, wanting to challenge him but he has you shaken. Your heart races and your body flushes. Heat fills every inch from the anticipation that’s killing you and the hesitation that holds you back. 

“I did, baby, but I also want you to know it takes every fiber in my being to control myself around you because you’re human.” He pulls your hand away from what you almost revealed to rest against his shoulder once again. “I need you so badly and when I end up claiming you completely, I want to know you’re ready. Until then, please, baby, have mercy. I’m only an animal.” 

You get the hint, not wanting to test his patience further since you already made him jealous in the same night. You nod and agree, though part of you still wants to explore him. His scent is filling your nose, after all. Maybe it’s what gave you the confidence in the first place. Or maybe it’s the more that he calls you his, the more you start to believe it. 

“Now, be a good girl and take your clothes off. You’re sleeping naked with me tonight.”

Your eyes pop, jaw slacking. “Um, what?” 

“All wolves sleep naked with their mate. It’s a way to show trust while we are most vulnerable, and our scent on one another becomes stronger. Their bond becomes stronger.” He looks at you, eyes softening just a bit. “Do you not want to?”

How could you say no to him? He only wishes to cuddle you with his big warm body all night and keep you safe and probably give you an orgasm because your pleasure is his pleasure. Every girl’s dream. 

You pull yourself away from his warmth to begin undressing. Drumming away in your chest, your heart reminds you this is the first time he will be seeing you completely naked. The first time, you had some coverage from the robe. The second the oversized t-shirt hid you from view, but now you’re completely naked and crawling under the covers. You didn’t miss the way his eyes devoured you seconds before you retreated to safety under the blanket. 

“Come closer, baby,” he says, wrapping an arm around your stomach to press your back against his chest, snuggling close. His warmth engulfs you, surrounding you with his scent as heat shoots through your body. He curls himself into you, making it clear you would have gotten a surprise if you had lifted the blanket, feeling now how hard he is pressed against you. “I’m not gonna bite.”

“You might,” you whine, eyes fluttering, succumbing to the haze that is all wolf and all him. It sends tingles through your body, so much stronger this way than any other. Your heart races and your pussy begins to ache for him. Suddenly you want his hands and body and mouth on you all at once, desperate for release at the touch of his pleasure. 

“Comfy, baby?” he asks you, then proceeds to press a kiss right behind your ear. His hand resting on your stomach moves lower, his palm caressing circles into your skin. No, you aren’t comfy. You needed that hand much lower…

“I feel so light,” you tell him with a sigh, not stopping yourself from rolling your hips to press your ass into him, “it feels so nice.” His scent makes you feel so safe. All of your worries disappear and the only thing you care about right now is him. How beautiful he is. How tender his heart is. He’s absolutely perfect and he’s all for you. 

“Let me make it feel even better,” he groans, deep and desperately, into your ear. His hand dips lower, fingers slipping between your thighs until he’s caressing your slit. He finds you dripping, soaked for him already and dying for his touch. A gasp falls from a strained breath as he circles your clit, covering his fingers in arousal. “Feels so nice, baby. You’re going to give me this pussy whenever I want, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” you cry out without thinking, hand falling to grip his wrist, hips rolling yourself against him. 

“I can’t wait until it’s my cock here, baby.” His hand moves to ease two digits inside of you, effortlessly, hearing the slick sounds of how wet you are as he buries them deep. Your back arches away from him, head thrown back in a gasp. Your body trembling around his hand has him groaning and nipping at your ear from behind. “I know you would take me so well. I would stretch it so good, baby.” 

“Please,” you whimper just as he begins to curl his fingers, applying pressure inside of you while his thumb continues to circle your clit. Your legs fall open, leaning back into him to give him better access between your thighs. The pleasure swirling in the pit of your stomach tells you you won’t last long, but you’re too far lost in the moment. 

“You’re shaking. I love feeling you like this against me. Trembling and so, so helpless.” He leans in close, lips brushing against your ear while drawing you closer to the edge with his hand between your thighs. “I could ruin you so easily, baby.”

The pleasure surges as the final thread of your control snaps. “I’m… I’m coming…” you cry out, whimpering his name, rolling out your bliss against his hand. Your legs tighten around him, trapping his hand with his fingers still buried inside of you. You come against him with walls tightening around those digits and whimpers of his name fill his room. 

“Such a perfect girl,” he whispers in your ear, coaxing your body down from the high. You land nestled in his warm scent and strong arms. Your chest heaves as you catch your breath, sweat beading against your forehead. You’re completely spent, not wanting to move for three to five business days. “So perfect and made just for me. My mate.”

He kisses the side of your head and your heart melts at his compliments. You don’t want to move. You want to live in his fantasyland, just you and him and the monsters are drunk, evil wolves, and you birth at least six of his wolf cubs.

Wait, what the hell? Your eyes fly open just in time to see him turn your body to lean over you, face to face. Before you can question him, his hand rises to stick his two fingers that had been inside you in his mouth, sucking your juices from his skin and pulling them out with a smirk. “Mine. Got it?”

All you can do is nod with a slacked jaw and parted lips, eyes blinking. As he leaves you on the bed to fetch something to clean you up with, you can only wonder how your life can get any more crazy.

***

The answer to that question is given the next morning. Sunlight begins to blind you as he peeks through the blinds on the windows. It only takes you a second to put the pieces from last night and now you’re panicking because you’re lying next to your sleeping best friend naked. You know it’s him and not his wolf due the way he snores when he sleeps. It’s kind of cute and soft, with a whimper here and there. 

You look over to see him flat on his back, one arm stretched out and what your head is currently resting on. Slowly, you try to lift yourself from the bed to get out of his hold, but it only makes him wrap an arm around you and pull you toward him.  Your body crashes against his, his arms hold you tight, and your breasts press against his cheek. 

He holds you there as you wiggle and try to free yourself, but he’s like stone and sleeps like a rock. “Just five more minutes,” he grumbles. You’re stuck. You don’t want to wake him to get free, but you don’t want him to wake up and get a faceful of your tits. 

Luckily for you, Confident by Demi Lavato starts blasting through the house as everything fades into darkness and your eyes pop open. You were dreaming, coming face to face with a little puddle of your own drool against your best friend’s pillow. 

Thank God you were only dreaming, looking over to see he’s no longer in the bed with you. You look around, noticing he’s not even in the room, quickly rushing to grab his t-shirt and throw it over your head. Just in time, because he comes walking through the bedroom door as you finally turn off your alarm.

“Good morning,” he says with a confused smile before he laughs. “You ok? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You shrug, trying to play it off that you weren’t just dreaming about your best friend. 

“Still have that same alarm song, huh?”

“It’s a classic pop song to get you pumped to girl boss it for the day. Of course I do.”

He laughs at that with a shake of head. “Get dressed. We can pick up breakfast and I’ll drop you off. Take whatever out of my closet you want to wear for the day. Take something to sleep in tonight, too.”

He walks out so you can change and you sigh. He takes care of you so casually most of the time you wonder if he even realizes it.

[lololololchips]

Kim Mingyu || in which love lingers…

synopsis: in which love lingers even after their relationship reaches its end. Mingyu discover that his enduring love and care for his ex will always remain, even if she has now found happiness in a new relationship…

genre: one shot smau, fake texts, fluff, angst, non!idol, lovers to strangers (?)

warnings: fem reader, cursing, mention of alcohol/being intoxicated

a/n: hiiiii i am very happy and excited to announce that this is my first collab!!! soooo allow me to introduce the amazing, talented, and great person that completed this smau @spamgyu !!!!! ces completely ruined me with her opinion on ex!mingyu to the point that it made me want to do an smau on the topic so here it is:)) the amazing writing portion that she did is towards the end so make sure not to skip over it and read it!!! also go show her support on all her great work, she’s gonna make u suffer and cry BUT HEY THATS OKAY🙈🙈 once again i’m truly so happy to have worked with ces so ENJOY WHAT WE PUT TOGETHER HEHE<333

Taking the final bite of his shave ice, Mingyu couldn't help but let out a pitiful chuckle as the cold treat made contact with his tongue - he had gone mad.

He had always wanted to visit the tropical island, looking forward to crossing off all the sights he had on his four year old list in his notes app.

Only difference was, it wasn't meant to just be him completing this list.

You were supposed to be there.

You were the one that had come up and done research for all the places he had paid a visit to.

From the small surf town up north to the local eateries, Mingyu couldn't quite find himself to enjoy the experience fully - knowing that there was something missing.

You.

It had been three years since the two of you had separated, both coming to terms with the end and moving on with your lives. It had been months since he had even thought of you - as a romantic partner, at least.

What was meant to be a birthday trip had turned to somewhat of a trip to tie up all the loose ends he never did seem to get to - nor was he aware had been undone.

This place was supposed to be for you two.

Mingyu knew it was stupid; relating every activity he had been doing back to you instead of fully enjoying the trip.

He was supposed to have moved on; and he has!

But why did his stomach feel like it was constantly sinking? Why did his heart feel as empty as it did the first day he had experienced a life without you?

With each picture he snapped, he found himself mumbling how much you would have loved the place.

It was everything you two had dreamed of, maybe even more.

You always did like the ocean - remembering the first time the two of you had spent at the beach together.

He could remember the smile on your face that day, almost as if it was just a week ago.

He could remember the sweet smell of coconut shampoo that lingered in your hair, wafting into his nose as the wind blew.

He could remember the sunkissed glow on your cheeks as the sun beat down on the two of you.

Would it have been the same if you had made it to the Hawaii trip with him?

Would you still have been using the same shampoo?

Would you still allow him to playfully drag you into the water - pretending as if you didn't want to wet your hair in the cold ocean water?

Probably not.

Time has passed, there was no way you were the same person - just as he wasn't that same foolish boy that he was when he was wrapped around your fingers.

You were most likely using a different shampoo now.

And you probably would have jumped into the ocean first.

He wanted to text you; send you all the images he took, update you that Matsumoto Shave Ice was as delicious as you imagined it be, tell you all about what he had been up to.

You probably wouldn't even care - at least, not like you did before.

You would simply reply casually, just like your other mutual friends.

Letting out a sigh, Mingyu tossed out the now empty cup - shaking his head to try and shake away the thoughts of you.

"I'm a fucking idiot." He scoffed, rereading the word vomit that he had spilled to you just a few minutes ago over text.

You two had been cordial, friends even - and now, that could possibly go down the drain.

All because of this stupid thing called nostalgia.

He had allowed for the emotional tie that the island had to overpower his coherent thoughts - typing all that he had felt the duration of his trip into the messaging app.

Mingyu knew he had to get it out, he had to let you know - he felt as though his chest would burst if he didn't. He had done so well holding back for the past few days, simply talking to you in his head.

But he heard it, someone had played the song the two of you had jokingly dedicated to each other after the break-up - and almost as if his younger self had possessed his body, he opened the messaging app and went on to spill all that his brain had been bothering him with.

His younger self missed you; gravely.

But not the you that was now, no - he didn't know who she is.

She is a stranger.

She may look familiar, having the same features that had once had him so weak in the knees - but she no longer felt like the home he once resided in.

He no longer knew the address to this home, nor does he think it has it's light on for him anymore.

Even if his kept the porch light on; just in case you needed to seek shelter in the darkest of nights.

It will always be on.

[markscherz]

Can I ask how you feel about your Tumblr fame?

I get the impression you just made this account for normal casual funsies reasons, but it kinda blew up by happenstance. If that's right, I'm curious if now you feel like it's kind of a more serious thing, where you have an opportunity to sorta act as a science communicator with a reach you otherwise might not?

Or maybe something else? You gonna see if you can somehow leverage your Tumblr fame to get research funding? Deputize us to harass polluters and developers destroying habitats? Crowdsource name ideas for new species?

It's a bit bizarre, in that it has very little real-world-ness to it. I showed my mother the ongoing tumblr celebrity poll, and she was like 'how many people could possibly be interested in frogs?', to which I replied 'well as of today about 46,000 and counting'.

I have always had an unhealthy relationship with fame. I spent most of my teen and young adult life fawning after it, as is I suppose very often the case.

More after the cut…

I always really wanted to be famous, but I was never really interested in changing who I was or what I represented in that pursuit. That is to say, I wanted to be known for what I was already doing, or for things that were already interesting for me, rather than things that might have much higher chances of success but require more effort or be less in line with the things that I am interested in.

I had my first brush with virality in 2012, when a poem I wrote went a little viral (largely thanks to StumbleUpon). I remember the rush of seeing how much attention it was getting, and staying up late to keep refreshing the page as the visitor numbers went up and up and up.

But not long after that, I had some closer encounters with fame and people becoming famous. That was extremely eye-opening. I witnessed first hand how strongly that can affect someone's life, for good and for bad. That experience also made me realise, quite jarringly, that famous people are still just people; that celebrity is something extrinsic to them; that they also wipe their own butts (if they are able); and that in many cases, it is a substantial inconvenience if not downright pain in the ass for them. I think this is why we see so many of the big celebrities having mental health crises or trying to live as much of their lives out of the public eye as possible.

That experience pretty much stifled my desire to achieve fame, and really changed my relationship with it. I should add that I could say much more on this topic, but nothing so coherent or insightful as John and Hank Green, who have given me so much clarity on this topic over the years through their thoughtful commentary on youtube and their podcasts.

Anyway, in spite of the fact that fame itself doesn't really appeal to me anymore, I do still have a problem wherein I quickly became addicted to the microdosing of euphoria associated with every reblog and like and follow. So I put huge efforts into social media in order to try to gain traction in the space that I felt I could really compete in—Very Niche SciComm™—and build up a following.

Tumblr was the first platform where I felt that really succeed; I managed to fight my way to a few thousand followers with a thick queue of regular posts about herpetology and other science. At that time, there was a great community building up in the rudimentary private messaging system—I am still friends with several other tumblr bloggers from that era (none of whom I have ever met in person). From that early time (2013), I think my most successful post was probably this one about germination of 32,000 year old seeds—a post that, as of today, has 836 notes, but at the time felt huge and exhilarating.

As I went through gradschool, I got more and more active on twitter, and less and less active on tumblr (by the time I wound down, I had about 8,000 followers on tumblr). This was partly because of the pornbot takeover on tumblr, which meant I basically could not go on the platform in public or at work, but also because the audience and interactions are just fundamentally different. Twitter had a different kind of vibe and energy than tumblr, and there were real SciComm experts there, who were doing it just completely differently. More importantly, I became more focussed on doing outreach aimed at colleagues, rather than non-experts.

Then, in 2017, I hit headlines for the first time. The description of Geckolepis megalepis made it big on social and traditional media, and I had my first experience with real media attention. I had a flurry of late-night phone-calls with journalists in the US. This was a different animal altogether than the few viral posts I had had until that point. It was extremely stressful, but exhilarating. Then in 2018, our chameleon fluorescence story made similar headlines, and in 2019 the Mini frogs, and in 2021 with gecko fluorescence and the smallest chameleon.

Seeing my name on the BBC News website and in the New York Times and National Geographic—those things have been the most surreal moments of near-fame I have experienced so far. The number of followers on social media is quite difficult to conceptualise, but seeing your own name in a media outlet that you consume regularly, or have grown up with, is more palpable.

In any case, I continued to run with twitter as my main platform for years, because I found the interaction with colleagues and other academics highly stimulating. In 2021, I even posted a twitter thread about a different species of frog from Madagascar every day for the full year. All this work was ultimately greeted with mediocre success; I just crested over 10,000 followers a few months before the Musth takeover. But then the platform became basically unusable. And in the fallout, I came back to tumblr, where, just by chance, I happened to find a post about the Mini frogs and reply to it and it went properly viral and now here we are. In the space of a year, I went from having 8000 followers to having >46,000.

How do I feel about that? It's bonkers. I think it is great that so many people are interested in hearing the Good News about frogs and other creatures. But I also feel like I am not really on the same playing field as most of the others in that poll mentioned above, in that I do not have any of the celebrity that several others have. And I know for a fact that there are fanblogs with far, far larger followings than I have. But perhaps that is the great thing about tumblr; that the playing field is somehow levelled…

What's the point of this ramble? Well, first I guess it is to outline that I have given fame a lot of thought over the years, and I have a long-standing and complicated relationship with it, and take it quite seriously. Second, to illustrate that I have been working on as a science communicator or person in outreach for many years—it has kind of been my social media brand since I started gradschool in 2013. And third, to kind of outline how we got here, because I often feel like you have to know where an arrow has come from in order to figure out which direction it will continue to fly.

You asked if I would somehow try to leverage my tumblr fame to get research funding—I already do that. In fact, my social media activity had a signfiicant role in landing me my current job, and will continue to help me achieve tenure. Outreach is an important part of my job, and funders like it too.

I would love to have the community-building power and tenacity of the brothers Green; Nerdfighteria has achieved some incredible things over the years, and the power of that community is now being seen at an unprecedented scale in their battle for equitable access for tuberculosis diagnosis and treatment. But I do not have that in me; this platform is the wrong one for community activation, and my community is still too small for that. Moreover, it is not organised or structured, in the way that I think effective deputisation would require.

As for the crowdsourcing of name ideas, that is currently off the table. I like to try to name things on my own or with my colleauges; it is a very good part of the process. And I have yet to hear a suggestion for a Mini species epithet that I had not already come up with myself, so I am not convinced that this would really augment the experience.

So for now, I hope that the main way I use the platform, and the power that comes with a few thousand followers, will be to spread the Good News about frogs and other wonderful animals, and the other kinds of science happening around us (and occasional other off-topic content). I hope that you are encouraged to explore the world around you, and to do your own reading to find out more about the subjects that interest you. And also I will continue to try to make meme-worthy content, because it does nice, if addictive, things in my brain when I get the clicks.

Thanks for asking, anon, and sorry for the Wall of Text.

[my-castles-crumbling]

camper - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 322

"Erm, I'm no expert camper," Sirius said hesitantly, counting and recounting the tents on the ground, "but don't we need more space?"

They'd decided to go with Muggle tents, to get the 'authentic experience,' as James called it. Since they were able to scrounge up four one-man tents from Remus's dad, the plan was for James to share with Regulus (much to Sirius's dismay) and the rest of the boys to have their own sleeping space. But as Sirius counted, there were decidedly three tents packed in bags on the ground.

James walked over to the pile of bags calmly and placed his hands on his hips. "Ah, darn," he said, though his tone suggested he was almost pleased by the predicament. "How did I manage that? Oh, well. Suppose two of you will have to share!"

And, as if on cue, Peter yelled out from across the clearing, grabbing at his ribs where Regulus had evidently just elbowed him, "Oh! Erm. Not me! I snore!"

Sirius stared from Regulus to James to Peter incredulously, all-too-aware of what they were doing. "Prongs," he murmured in a low, frustrated voice.

"What's wrong, Padfoot?" James retorted, a grin on his face. "You can share with Moony, can't you?"

He gaped, giving James a challenging glare before grunting in agreement. Of course he could share with Remus. But sharing with Remus meant spending the entire time thinking far too much about how close their bodies were. How much he wanted to be closer. How he wanted to just reach out and touch.

But as he began to put poles together, he looked over to Remus, and he swore, just for a second, that Remus looked even more pleased than James did about this new development. And, he thought that maybe Regulus was right every time he told him to get his head out of his arse and realize that Remus was gone for him, too.

[strawberrypoundtown]

Hi! I’m a big fan of your work and your writing style.

If you’re still open to prompts(no worries if not):

Perhaps an incubus who falls in love with it’s mark, and struggling to remain composed or ‘professional’ due to their feels?

Please and thank you ❤️

(Omg I love this idea. Thank you so much for the request! I hope you like what I did with it! I'm so sorry this took so long to complete. I wanted to try and do something different with this one to experiment a bit more. Any advice or critique is welcome 😁 I do want to make a part 2 for this eventually, but I honestly have no idea when I'll actually be able to write it. Until then, any ideas for the 2nd part (or a name for him) are more than welcome! Without further adieu, please enjoy the show! - 🍓)

Incubus x Fem!Reader

After starting work at a new office, you've been trying to ignore your incubus coworker and his countless attempts to invite you into the supply closet, or his home after work hours. It's not until he admits that he doesn't just want a one-night stand that you might give him a chance...

Contains: tentacles, sexual tension, bondage (tentacles), gagging, grinding

This wasn't supposed to happen. It never took him more than a few days to convince someone to go home with him. Usually, he was able to do it in a matter of hours, and they ended up bent over his desk. Why were you so difficult? You were just a human. The most beautiful human he had ever seen walk into the office, but just a human either way.

Then why did you turn him down everytime he even walked up to you? Sure he had a rep, but it was a good one. A lot of the other girls at the office considered him good for stress relief, so why wouldn't you let him show you that? Or more importantly, why did he care so much that you kept rejecting him? He couldn't wrap his head around it. He had been rejected in the past and was never all that affected by it. But why did your rejections hurt so badly?

He couldn't feed on anyone else until he had you. The thought of feeding on anyone but you made him feel nauseous. Everyone else smelled terrible in comparison. He even almost gagged once when he was in a morning meeting, and you had called in sick.

You were like a breath of fresh air, and your kindness towards everyone in the office since you arrived made him annoyed. Some of the other monsters in the office were starting to flirt with you after you had rejected him the first time. It made him so angry that you were torturing him like this.

He was done with the casual approach at this point. He couldn't stand having people look at you like he did. He wanted you all to himself, at least for one night. He isn't supposed to get attached to his marks, but he couldn't help it. You had ruined him by simply existing. Everyone he looked at that could be a potential mark were nothing compared to you. They didn't have your body, your voice, your eyes, your smile, or your scent. He just wanted to drown himself in you just once to purge his urges at least, but you wouldn't let him do that.

But today was different. He had a plan. Your team had a short meeting that morning, and he had pretended to leave first, instead waiting outside the door until everyone else had left. He noticed you always stayed back for a few moments to yourself for whatever reason, often just cleaning, but this time, you were going to be staying back for another reason.

All of a sudden, he heard giggling from inside. Your giggling. It was followed by a masculine laugh and the disgusting scent of werewolf flooding his senses. He growled and peered through the crack in the door to see you smiling and giggling with a werewolf that sat next to you during the meeting. His claws dug into the doorframe as he tried to listen in while looking at you through the crack in the door.

"Oh, you're too funny." you said with a sigh, wiping a tear from your eye as you stared up at the handsome young werewolf.

"Why, thank you (Y/n). I take pride in my sense of humor." he said with a cocky smile, leaning into your space as he spoke.

"You should. I always laugh when we talk." You said softly with a sweet smile, seemingly leaning towards him as well.

"Well, how about I get you to laugh later tonight? Why don't we grab drinks after work tonight? There's a bar near my place..." he proposes to you with a smile, his fangs bared.

The door suddenly swung open before you could even contemplate an answer.

"There's a bright yellow sport car in front of the building getting towed. You better go get it, dog." The incubus growled through grit teeth, glaring into the werewolf's eyes.

"Son of a bitch... I'm so sorry, I gotta go. Think about what I said. I'll be expecting your answer after lunch." Ths werewolf softly purred to you before quickly walking outside the room. The incubus wasted no time and swung the door closed, letting it slam.

"What was that about? Coming to try snd get in my pants again?" You spat before rolling your eyes and starting to organize your papers. Gods, you were such a feisty human sometimes. He loved that about you.

"Technically yes." He chuckled, the rumble in his chest more appealing than you'd care to admit. "I didn't want anyone else around."

"I know you won't do anything unless I give my consent." You said bluntly as you tapped your papers together and tucked things away. You knew incubus couldn't do anything without some kind of genuine verbal permission.

"What? Oh fuck no. Nothing like that... Jesus christ, who do you take me for?" He sounded offended as one of his hands came up over his heart.

"A horny incubus that won't leave me alone." You groaned as you turned towards him, going to walk around him. Suddenly, his arm shoots out, blocking your path as he plants his hand on the wall. His claws were peaking out and leaving marks on the wall.

"You don't understand." He growls, a bit harsher than intended before he inhales deeply, trying to calm down as he runs a hand through his hair between his horns. "Once I have my target set on a mark, I can't change it unless they reject me."

"Then why do you keep coming back? I've rejected you so many times... Don't you have plenty of other girls that would be more than willing to give you a snack?" You pointed out how many women were always hanging all over him. It made you sick. Of course you wanted to fuck the hot incubus in the office, but you know yourself. You don't like to share. You like having a partner that's yours and yours alone.

"No. I've never encountered anyone that makes me feel like this..." He leans in towards your face and softly sniffs the air. "You smell so good... I can't think of feeding on anyone else right now... I think I just need a taste... just one night..." His voice is dripping in a pleading tone, bartering, but practically begging for you.

"I can't do that." You said bluntly as you avoided eye contact with him. The heat pooling in your panties didn't help your faltering moral defenses. You knew better. You had to stay firm. Firm like the bulge forming in his dress pants...

"Please?" His deep desperate voice broke you out of your daze as you softly gasped, trying to pretend to be offended instead of turned on as your face turns red and you glare into his eyes.

"N-no! I'm not interested in having a one night stand with you!" You barked, your chest heaving as you stared up at him. Your heart raced as you took in his appearance unintentionally. He was tall and slender, with sharp features. his typically carefully slicked back hair was a bit disheveled from running his hands through it in frustration. His horns were short and blunt usually, but you could see them growing by the moment. In fact, it seemed like his entire frame was growing.

"Oh." He purred. "I get it now." A wicked grin spread cross his face as you tried your best to maintain an annoyed expression. "You haven't been rejecting me because you don't want to sleep with me."

"What?" You jaw slacked open as you looked up at him in shock. "Why else would I be rejecting you?"

"You've been rejecting me because you want me so bad you know you'll want more." He chuckled, his other arm suddenly swinging around to cage you against the wall. "I can tell by how wet you were right now."

"That could have been from anyone else today." You scoffed, but you knew you couldn't pretend you weren't also starting to get desperate. Yiu also couldn't pretend that in an office full of monsters, most of them could probably smell your arousal whenever you had walked into a room.

"I'm an incubus, baby. A demon of pleasure. I can smell it in your blood how turn on you get from being around me." He chuckled with a grin. Fuck. He was onto you. "And it started shortly after I walked in the room..." Double fuck.

"Fuck you." You hissed through grit teeth, your blood pumping as you thought about how many times he must have known you were turned on by his presence.

"Oh babygirl, don't be so hostile. If you wanted more than just one night with me, we could easily arrange that." He starts to lean in close to your face, but you put a hand on his chest and push him back. You couldn't have him in your space like this for long or to hell with your morals.

"Look, I don't sleep with guys unless I'm dating them. I don't do friends with benefits or random office hookups." You finally admitted with a sigh, avoiding eye contact in embarrassment. Your hand on his chest alone was driving him wild. You had never touched him before. He felt his horns getting bigger as he struggled to keep his mostly human form intact.

"Wait, what? Why not?" He said as he finally processed what you said. It was hard to pay attention when you kept touching him.

"Because I know I get attached easily." You admit shyly, your voice nearly whisper quiet as you pulled your hand away. You had his full attention now. "Think about it. You're an incubus that needs to feed on pleasure to survive. You have a good routine going here with everyone else in the office from what I've heard." You let out a shakey sigh as you felt tears start to well in your eyes. "If I'm added into the mix, I know I'm just going to end up hurt... because it already hurts..."

"Wait a minute, what do you mean it hurts?" His voice has changed from frustration to worry mixed with confusion. He didn't understand what was hurting you.

"Excuse me?" You question, a bit confused by his confusion.

"What hurts you right now?" He asks, a bit more clearly as he stares into your eyes and gently cups your face. His touch makes you stiffen, although all you want to do is melt into his hand. As if he has some kind of truth spell on you, you take a breath and let out a soft sigh.

"Y...you do... you hurt me... I see how you talk to the other females in the office... it hurts... ever since I walked into this office I've found you attractive... I've only been here for a few weeks, and I've honestly already been looking to transfer to a different department so I don't have to be around you all the time." You admit softly, averting your gaze before his hand suddenly grabs your face by squishing your soft cheeks.

"What?! Hell no!" He barked with a growl. The thought of you transferring away from him made him enraged. He couldn't let that happen.

"Excuth me?" You mumbled through your squished lips, his grip firm, so you couldn't move, but not harsh.

"You heard me. Hell no." His grip on your face loosens as both his hands move up to hold the side of your head. The look in his eyes is wild, his pupils huge as he doesn't even seem to blink. "You've ruined me, so you don't get to run away from me like that."

"W-what?" You stutter confused, staring back at him as you tried to process his words. What does he mean you ruined him?

"If all you wanted from the beginning was to have me all to yourself, you should have said something." He mutters as his thumbs slowly rub your cheeks. His gentle touch makes you let out an involuntary sigh. "You've made me want no one but you since you got here anyways... your rejections were like being stabbed in the heart... God, without you around, everyone else smells like hot garbage... you smell like fresh summer rain that I wanna drown in forever..." He whispers to you as he moves his hands down your neck and to your shoulders before dropping down your back slowly.

"You really feel like that?" You whisper softly as a shiver goes down your spine. His hands find your hips and hold you firmly in place as he presses his chest against yours. Your arms and papers squish between the two of you as his hot breath bathed your face.

"Yes. I mean every word... if you want to try and date me, I'd be more than happy to only feed from you." He slowly leans down and presses his nose into your neck, inhaling deeply as you can feel his hardening bulge against your lower stomach. "I just don't know how much longer I can wait for you... being this close is torture... I can take you on a proper date tonight, but..." His breathing seems to get heavier as you start to hear the ripping of fabric from behind him. "I need you." His eyes were filled with need at he looked like he was about to start drooling over the most deliciousmeal he's ever had. He was starving and desperate to just feel you. "Please."

"I need you too." You finally whispered, breathless yourself as this was finally too much. You hoped he was telling the truth, but your horny brain didn't even care anymore. You needed him just as badly in that moment.

"Fuck, you have no idea how much I've needed to hear you say that." He lets out a relieved sigh and chuckles before a dark black tentacle comes out from the darkness and grabs your papers, throwing them onto the table. He wastes no time in pinning you to the wall, his wings bursting out from his back and ripping open the back of his suit. "Shit." He grumbles, quickly just tearing off the rest of the fabric on his upper body as he pulls up your skirt, making you wrap your legs around him as he grinds his bulge against your panties to tease you. You're about to let out a moan as he takes your soft lips in a deep kiss. You instead moan against his lips as your hands find his hair, gently tugging as he moans in return.

He's barely even done anything yet, and he feels like he just had a full meal. Your pleasure was so easy to stir and the buzz it gave him was addicting. This was dangerous. He didn't think you'd actually be so tasty. But you were now quickly becoming his new favorite meal. More tentacles manifested out of the darkness, wrapping around your arms and legs slowly as they explored your body and held you in place. The tentacles were warm and wet against your skin, almost feeling like strange tongues. You feel them pin your arms behind your back, your chest now pushed out as he rips the front of your blouse open. You gasp and squirm a bit about to complain about your shirt being ripped before he quickly silences you with a quick kiss.

"I can get you a new shirt, baby. Just relax and enjoy this." He purrs softly, making you shiver before his lips are back on yours again. He slides his tongue into your mouth and seems to be trying to taste as much of you as he possibly can. Two tentacles slide into your bra and wrap around your breasts, fondling them as they flicked your nipples. He quickly unbuckles his pants and pulls out his throbbing cock from his boxers, rubbing his length between your slick folds. He groans against your lips softly before pulling away to rest his forehead against yours.

Your brain is fuzzy as you look up at him, your eyes drunk with lust and he could swear you had hearts in your eyes. Your eyes flicked downwards and widened as he chuckled. He was bigger than you expected, but you weren't going to shy away from a challenge. However, before you could tell him to go ahead and fuck you, you felt a warm, slick tentacle move your panties to the side before prodding your dripping wet hole and slowly sliding into you. It was thick, stretching you slightly as it wriggled inside you against your most sensitive bumps inside you.

"I can tell you're a needy one... a secret kinky side... I like that." He groans as he bucks his hips against yours, rubbing his cock against your bundle of nerves. Your back arched as you couldn't help but let out lewd moans, another tentacle swiftly sliding into your mouth. "You're really enjoying this. I can't believe you resisted this for so long." He chuckles with a wicked grin. You moan around the tentacle in your mouth as you squirm, your eyes fluttering as the tendril in your pussy plays with your sensitive walls. Your face flushes as you felt yourself starting to get close already.

"Fuck baby... if you taste this good just to play with, I need to know how good you taste when you cum." He pants softly as you notice drool from the corners of his mouth dripping down onto your chest. His eyes are wild with lust as they dart over your body laid out just for him. His cock continues to thrust roughly against your clit, picking up the pace along with the two tentacles inside you. You don't know how much more you can take.

"Cum for me baby." He commands, making you shiver as you suddenly come undone. Your pussy contracts around the tentacle as you gag on the lne in your mouth. Your entire body trembles as you're fucked through your orgasm, the tentacles only pulling away slowly for a moment after you're done cumming. You're panting and gasping for air as the black tendril slides put of your mouth, your pussy red and puffy as the other slides out as well.

You're left whining softly as your pussy clenches around nothing and you try to catch your breath. You want to tell him you wanted more. That you wanted his cock. You needed it. Drool drips down your chin as he leans in to lick it away, pulling his dick away as the black tendrils move you to the large table. He begins licking the sweat from your body, leaving you wet and needy.

Once he finally moves to 'clean' between your legs, you're groaning and moaning softly with need. He licks up your thighs, stopping before touching your pussy. Your squirming in the grip of the tentacles still, bucking your hips as you pray for him to touch you. You're left whimpering and shaking with desire as he fixes your messy panties and pulls your skirt back into place.

"You really are needy." He growls as his eyes finally start to settle from their crazed daze. The tentacles slowly release you and he uses the shreads of his shirt snd jacket to ensure you're cleaned up. "But I can't get too carried away... not yet."

"I wish you could have." You whisper with a cheeky smile as he begins to clean your face of any spit or tears left behind. He chuckles lowly as he holds your face with one of his clawed hands. His eyes still held a burning desire for you, and you knew he saw the same in yours.

"You'll find out tonight. You took the bus today, right?" He asks as he manifested two of his shirts, opening one of them up and sliding it on your arms before beginning to button it up. You notice his more demon-like features starting to slowly go away, showing that he's much calmer now as he takes on his human appearance again.

"Yeah?" You raise an eyebrow, wondering why he was asking. It wasn't uncommon for you to just take the bus when you didn't feel like driving in the morning. He quickly finished buttoning the shirt he put on you before putting on a shirt himself now that he won't rip it with his wings.

"Good. You're coming home with me after work." He said with a smirk as he buttoned up his shirt. You whined softly and bit your lip as he now covered himself. He helped you off the table, but held your hips as you stood in front of him now.

"I want you to save that energy for our date tonight."

"Oh really?" You giggle as you run your hand along his chest, undoing the top bottun to let a bit kore of his chest show. "You better finish what you started then." You feel him practically purr as he stares down at you with a mischievous grin.

[getlostsquidward]

red-handed

pairing: emily prentiss x reader

a/n: not proofread bc i whipped this out at work and i'm never not thinking about this lady

warnings: 18+, accidental voyeurism, masturbation

summary: Emily sees something she’s not supposed to.

It feels wrong.

Emily could feel her face heating up as she got up from her desk, but not before fishing out her earphones and then bolting out to the restroom.

It was wrong, but she couldn't help but watch the way your hand disappeared under your pants, the other under your shirt pinching your nipples. Emily can see how your chest heaves with every breath. Her throat dried up as she heard you moan. The sound is barely noticeable, and she's laser-focused on the screen as if it will help her hear the sounds of your pleasure better.

Emily’s thigh clenches as you decide to shimmy out of your pants, giving her a clearer view of how you touch yourself. Her eyes trail up to your face and study your expressions. Moans get louder when circling your clit. You bite your lip when you play with your breasts. Your head tosses back as you pull out your fingers from your cunt and rub the swollen bud frantically.

Emily licks her lips as your thighs shake and your back arches from the couch. She feels hot all over. Her face, her neck, her ears, and especially between her legs. She should have stopped, no, she shouldn't even have watched you masturbate on her couch, but now it's all she can think about.

Now, she’s curious if you’ve done it before. Emily desperately wants to not wonder who you’re thinking of right now. It’s none of her business but in the depths of her mind, she can see herself on her knees to give you a much better experience. She can see herself pressed against your back as her hands explore your body, her lips attached to your neck. Emily can see those same fingers pulling orgasm after orgasm from her until she’s spent.

Imagining it drives the woman crazy.

She reflects on your previous conversations, and Emily realizes that she wasn't able to mention to you that she got a cat cam to check on Sergio when she's out for work on some days you're not able to babysit the feline.

No one prepared her for today. Emily only wanted to check on you and Sergio through the cat cam to take a break from endless case files and then go back to work.

But then she heard her name and perked up. 

She didn't hear anyone come in and lock another cubicle, so she's sure it's not someone from the office.

Emily retreats her focus on her phone—and it's faint, but it's there, her name from your lips as you come down from your climax. 

Oh, fuck, Emily…

[rosesaints]

hi! i'm like, obsessed with your works. thus, i had a request hehe, how do you think yuta will react to fem!reader being a virgin, and asking him to be her first time?

yuuta still doesn't quite believe that any of it is real until you're sinking down so prettily on his cock, eyelashes fluttering and chewing nervously on the bottom of your lip. your voice is hoarse with need as you mumble, "it's... it's too big, yuuta," even just saying his name has him groaning, resisting the urge to slam his hips up into you and feel how you clench and gasp around him. "i don't know if... don't know if i can do it."

his throat dries up, hands going up to run over your skin in what he hopes is in a soothing manner, mind short-circuiting when you accidentally roll your hips in an attempt to lean into his touch. "e—easy, s—slow down..."

he knows that if you keep squirming on his cock, he might not be able to contain himself any longer.

forcing himself to breathe out slowly, he thinks back to when you first suggested the idea of him taking your virginity.

"me?" it takes him a moment to register your strange request, and then an even longer moment as yuuta turns around to look at his surroundings, to see if you were asking anyone else.

he's breathless as he searches your face for any sign of this being a cruel, cruel joke and he's relieved to find that you're just as nervous as him, if not more. you seem to be fixated on a stubborn scuff on your shoe, desperately trying to avoid meeting his gaze directly. "w...why me?"

"because," yuuta watches the column of your throat bob as you swallow the lump in your throat, distantly thinking about how pretty it would look blemished with feather-light kisses and marks, wonders if you would gasp and throw your head back or if you'd bite and suck at his neck in turn. he thinks he'd die happily to experience either. "i... i know you'd take good care of me."

admittedly, this was not how he envisioned things with you would go. you've been his dearest friend for the longest time and he does, so badly, want to take care of you.

he always wanted to do it the right way, to properly court you first and show you just how much you meant to him. but when you wrapped your arms around him and kissed him so, so needily, how was he supposed to resist?

the nobler, more honorable part of him wants to take his time with you, to fuck you sweetly and slowly, reassure you with soft little touches and tell you how pretty you look, tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and watch as you coo and sigh and whisper murmurs of appreciation into his skin.

but the desperate part of him who has wanted this for so long, who's fisted his cock late into the hours of the night to thoughts of you, who gets stiff from the slightest of touches, drunk off your presence, wants to wring out the pleasure from your body until your mind's gone blank, till you're sobbing underneath him and begging him for more. he wants to make sure you never, ever forget about him.

yuuta's been in love with you for god knows how long.

when his hands come down to linger on your waist possessively, he swallows down his more shameful desires and forces himself to wait, to be patient as you take your time taking his entire length fully. there's always next time.

[phoenixyfriend]

Remember my post about Anakin pulling a Mike Murdock? Yeah, no, I have a full on AU concept now (with contributions by @threebea! indented)!

He lies so hard about having a brother that the universe invents a twin from scratch for him. It happens when Anakin is like twelve.

Anakin was just committing to the bit on a mission because he was bored.

The Force was also bored.

Oh no Anakin force manifests a sibling Obi-Wan: …That's not how the Force works. Anakin: You tell the Force that. Obi-Wan: Well, I suppose this would be your half-brother since the Force is your shared parent. Obi-Wan after the initial shock: This might as well happen.

New brother is better at some things and worse at others, as any person is. Anakin is, naturally, a fucking mess about all that, worries he'll be replaced, etc.

Obi-Wan just brings this to the Council and nobody can DENY this Skywalker from the Jedi after they already took the first one. So. Mace volunteers.

This Skywalker is a bit more Force than Anakin, got glowing eyes and visions and the Animal Communion buff. But is worse at flying, worse at tech, and unfathomably worse at people. Which is a FEAT, since Anakin's not too hot at social skills in the first place.

Mace has his hands full in many ways, including "keep this child from walking face first into the wall."

Obi-Wan: We are not calling him Anagain.

Anakin had many mixed feelings but! If he's going to have family then he's going to commit!

The other option is that the brother is younger by enough that the Older Brother instincts kick in, but I think the one-sided twin rivalry is funnier.

Anakin: I'm a big brother now. Anagain: I think we're supposed to be twins. Anakin: I have more worldly experience. Anagain: I'm taller. Anakin: wut Anagain: alpha twin alpha twin (that's his nickname until you come up with actual name lol) Obi-Wan: Well, I'm taller than both of you, and while that is the case you both need to listen to me. Anagain: (flash of foresight) So, not for long Obi-Wan: What? Anagain: Nothing. Mace: (the Shatterpoints are blinding) Yeah, I'll be taking this one. More seriously tho, Anakin definitely torn between what if everyone likes him better he's born from the force what if he's the chosen one what if and also: I have a brother I have family I need to take care of him. Probably some fun twin force bond too. Oh man Sheev after digesting all of that would definitely try to get some jealousy going.

Anakin talks about the new brother with terms like Freshly Hatched and Innocent Baby and it's mostly a joke except that now HE thinks Palps is a creep when it's aimed at Not Him.

Palpatine: When do I get to meet him? Anakin: [absolutely not] Mace won't let him [Yeah that'll work] Mace: Yeah, absolutely not, he didn't help save Naboo there's no reason for my Padawan to have a relationship with the Supreme Chancellor

I've decided to call the brother Aion (EY-yon). I like the whole thing about Anakin's name being based on Ananke, even if it's a disputed thing, so I go for Greek myth when doing alt names for siblings.

Mace still bitter about having to let Palps get time with Anakin not about to do the same if he can help it. Although that comic takes place later eh (handwaves) still The Jedi might try to be hush hush about where aion came from anyway since he would fall directly under Jedi business

Help I'm imagining Mace and Obi-Wan on a walk and the twins are on child leashes. Anakin because ADHD will have him trying to run off to look at something. And Aion because he's going to be so distracted by visions that he will walk into traffic.

"Can we send a letter to mom so she knows he exists?" The other thought was ANAKIN holding the child leash for Aion, and then Obi-Wan or Mace holding the one for Anakin. Lil chain.

Aion: Hey… I know I've only existed for a few months, and yes my memories of before are sort of built by the Force, but I'm pretty sure the Supreme Chancellor is evil. Mace: You saw that in a vision? Aion: No, he's just super creepy. Bad vibes.

Obi-Wan: Of course he's evil, he's a career politician. Anakin: What about your friend from Alderaan? Obi-Wan: That's different.

One of these boys is constantly zoning out. The other is smiling, but the smile contains murder.

They're both adhd but with wildly different sides of it.

EXACTLY

Also.

Aion: [silent, a bit upset but mostly chill] Anakin, holding his hand: He asked for no pickles!

[meanbossart]

What horror games have you played/wanted to play? Also have you tried any rpg maker horrors?

I actually don't play that many horror games, I don't think? Between you and me most of them are... Kind of garbagee. But I like when really weird things are taken dead seriously, which most video games don't succeed at. But in the rare time they DO, it usually falls into the "horror" genre at least loosely. I'm just going to list my favorites:

PS: I'm really showing how insufferable I am with these summaries, sorry!

The Outlast series: the most Tasteful tasteless gory-shit-fest of a horror series I've ever seen. I don't like shock for the sake of shock, and Outlast somehow manages to always make it for the sake of SOMETHING. The original game+DLC is a buttload of fun, and if you pull back one layer it also poses some interesting and difficult questions about the place and treatment of the criminally inclined in society. Pull yet another layer back and you find a fascinating subversion of the expected role men are supposed to inhabit in horror games. The second game is a vastly different, and profoundly emotional experience, opinions on it vary for reasons I find very understandable, but I personally really like it.

Fear & Hunger: I guess this answers your question about RPG horror games! Unfortunately, this is the only one I ever played that I liked, but REALLY like it, I have a tattoo of the circle of perfection on the back of my hand, even, lol (I already had other hand tats, don't freak out). I just really like the absurdity of the story and all of the lore that the developer has cooked up for it, and the way it all matters but also kind of doesn't. I think its an insane feat to have achieved the atmosphere he did with the limited tools he has, not to mention the massive amount of respect I have for any creator that simultaneously wears their influences on their sleeves while displaying massive creativity and originality.

Pathologic: This game kind of speaks for itself honestly. Its just brutal, creative, infuriating, I could go on - It's probably the most immersive experience I've ever had in a game. If you've never played it before I would suggest buying Pathologic 2 (don't worry about it) and playing it completely blind. Forget about "winning", forget even about succeeding, just go about it as if you were in the protagonist's shoes and see where you leads you.

Scorn: Without a doubt in my top 5 games of all time and I don't care that that is an insane take. This game is everything I want from interactive stories - entirely intuitive, doesn't spoonfeed you a single grain of its lore or pushes its story on you, it just puts the pieces in your hands and its up to you to feel it on instinct. This 5 hour game with no dialogue, no text, not even any named characters to speak of had me crying at its ending and I didn't even know whether I was sad or overjoyed. I fucking LOVE scorn.

Honorable mention:

The Space Between by Christoph Frey (not to be confused with The Space INbetween.): Is a short, 30 minute experience about intimacy presented through a horror lens. I really don't want to say anything else about it, but I played it like 5 years ago and I still hold it near and dear to my heart. It's a master's guide to storytelling through semiotics and exemplary in it's... Emotionally charged visuals? Like, I had never before seen a story make sentiment into and external, tangible thing quite like this one does, like turning sound into an object or something. Amazing little indie game.

[astrocafecoffee]

Groom pc observation (part 2)

✨ For entertainment purposes only, enjoy ✨

☞ Groom pc observation (part 1)

💘 the ascendant/chart ruler of your groom pc is mainly related to your future spouse's asc or sun. Suppose, you have Virgo rising in your groom pc so your future spouse may have Virgo rising, Virgo sun , or mercury in their 1st house of their natal chart. The degree on rising is also important. Check that too. They can have those signs on their rising or sun.

💘 Regulus in 11th house means your future spouse is likely to have influential and powerful friends. Their social circle may include people of high status or those who hold positions of authority.

💘 Regulus in 10th house indicates your future spouse's career brings public honour and notable reputation. They may be seen as a leader in their field.

💘 Regulus in 3rd house means your spouse may excel in public speaking, writing, communication, or a good teacher.

💘 Industria (389) in 3rd house - they may be in music industry.

💘 Venus in 1st house - very good looking spouse, a prince charming. Good luck guys 🙂.

💘 Venus in 2nd house - very stable spouse (financially).

💘 Venus in 3rd house -

intellectual, creative spouse.

💘 Venus in 4th house - you may considered them as your ultimate home.

💘 Venus in 5th house - creative (inclined towards music , theatre, painting), romantic, playful spouse.

💘 Venus in 6th house - your daily companion, your biggest support system.

💘 Venus in 7th house - they will adore you , and you will experience that type of love you never experienced before.

💘 Venus in 8th house - they will be very protective of you, they seek relationships that empower them emotionally and spiritually, allowing them to grow and evolve through shared experience.

💘 venus in the 9th house - you will travel with them frequently. They may be attracted to partners who are well educated or who have a passion for intellectual pursuits.

💘 Venus in the 10th house - leaders, career in arts , fashion, beauty or authoritative figure. Maybe famous at some point.

💘 Venus in 11th house - has big social circle , your social circle will expand too when you marry/ dating them.

💘 Venus in 12th house - spiritual spouse. They may express their emotions through poetry, music etc.

💘 Fama conjunct Jupiter - famous spouse, Jupiter expands the possibility of fame. It will increase further if it's placed in 1st or 7th house.

💘 Groom conjunct Glo(3267) asteroid means their identity and how they perceived within the context of your relationship could be prominent or publicly acknowledged.

💘 webb(3041) conjunct fama - spouse is famous in social media.

💘 Webb in 1st house - strong online presence.

💘 Venus conjunct webb - showing creativity, beauty,in online.

💘 Varuna ( 20000) in 10th / 1st /11th house means spouse may have worldwide recognition.

💘 Starr ( 4150) conjunct Uranus - star in social media. If it's in 5th house then your fs may possess creative presence in online.

💘 Saturn in 7th house means you will get married later or find your spouse in later age.

💘 Aries descendant means your fs may want to marry you as soon as possible.

💘 moon in 7th house means your fs may be younger than you or you will marry at young age.

💘1st lord in 1st house indicates of focus on personal growth and development. the groom prioritise self improvement efforts and initiatives that enhance their skills, knowledge, or physical appearance.

💘 also the groom sign in your groom pc can be related to your spouse's big 3 ( sun , moon, rising) , again check the degree too.

💘 1st lord in 4th house - while this placement fosters strong family ties and emotional stability, it can sometimes lead to challenges such as being overly attached to family traditions or struggling with emotional boundaries between your spouse's personal and family life.

💘 1st lord in 8th house indicates that your future spouse undergoes significant personal transformations throughout their life. they may experience periods of profound change or evolution in their identity and self expression.

💘 7th ruler in 10th house - relationship in public eye or somehow impacts your public image.

💘 7th ruler in 6th house means your future husband may need to balance his dedication to practical matters with emotional expression and spontaneity in relationships, ensuring that both partners feel valued and appreciated beyond their daily routines.

End....

Thanks for reading ❤️

.......Piko✨