#Like damn...they really make me fall in love with love again

[thewretched1999]

── .✦ i'm not in love, so don't forget it.

a/n: this is inspired by the song. i had it on loop while writing....god i lovelovelove vergil...ghhh ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| cw: none! it's all just fluff. wc: 1k

When Dante finally showed up again with Vergil in tow, he felt like a mystery to you. 

It seemed on the surface that he was nothing like V, who was so open and honest about everything when it came to you, from his thoughts to his feelings, all were whispered and confessed in the dark expressed with flowery words and shown through poems he’d come to associate with you.

Vergil wasn’t like that.

For the first few weeks he barely even looked your way, and when you tried to make idle conversation with him it felt like talking to a brick wall until he’d take his leave to go demon hunting with Dante as if they hadn’t spent months doing just that every damn day. You somehow didn't take offense because V’s words always rung in your head.

It was hard to forget about the man that you came to care for but even after he’d long been gone, replaced by a man in blue who’d treated you so coldly in the beginning--those feelings didn’t waver, merely adapted.

To your benefit, Vergil’s frigid and callous temperament didn’t last long. His front melted away rather quickly, actually.

Despite being nothing like V. Vergil couldn’t keep away, couldn’t force himself to forget the nights he’d spent with you as V, curled up on the ratty couch reading poems when there was nothing to do, but he couldn’t quite let himself accept that the love you had for him was still there.

He didn’t really know what to do with these feelings either. Couldn't decide whether to bottle them up or let himself explore them thoroughly this time, without the worry of his time running out.

Only when you two were alone would he let himself indulge in you just a little.

Some days he’d avoid you like the plague and on others he’d cling to you so tightly, never saying a word unless you tried to get up and leave when you thought he was asleep, and when he does open his mouth to speak all he mutters is a;

“Don’t.”

Before letting the room fall into silence again, keeping you crushed against the couch with your only option left being to let your hands run through his hair gently. At least until he senses Dante or Nero on their way. Only then does he shove you away and pretend like nothing happened.

Vergil says he doesn’t love you, but he lies to himself and to anyone who’ll ask. When his hand finds yours he’ll ignore the puzzled look on your face, when he holds the door open for you he’ll say it’s because he has manners. (He shuts the door in front of Dante, so you don’t know how true that is.)

…And when he takes you out under the guise of a hunt to slow dance with you in the forest, leaving only the fireflies and the stars above to bear witness, he won’t say anything at all.

It’s peaceful, when you two come together like lovers who’ve known each other for lifetimes, how he cradles you close to him so delicately, but it’s all so so confusing, his hand stays faithfully on the small of your back, whilst the other holds onto yours tenderly, most would never take Vergil for a romantic, but you know better.

“You didn’t have to bring me this far out.” You murmur, slightly pulling away from where you’d had your head resting against his shoulder to look up at him, to see how his eyes sparkle with something soft underneath the moonlight, pupils dilating before he looks away.

You smile. He was so obvious. 

“I thought it was a lovely place.” He mutters. He’s right, you suppose, it’s gorgeous, serene. 

“How did you even find this place?” You ask, his hand squeezes yours softly, and like always, it’s him who presses his forehead against yours.

“Does it matter?”

“No.” You hum. “I guess not.”

You pause, and something else piques your interest.

“I didn’t take you for the type to dance.” 

Vergil's lips press into a thin line. “I don’t.” 

Yet the way he moves so gracefully with you to the song playing from the little radio he’d brought quietly says otherwise, speaks as if he's done it for years. You don't poke fun or prod though, at least not yet, simply hum as if it were the most interesting thing you'd heard.

“I’m special then?” You ask teasingly, just to hear his answer.

There’s a ghost of a smile on his face, you know for everything Vergil is, everything he was, underneath all the ice he’s a man in love, you half expect him to deny it but he surprises you.

“You are.” He says.

You stay silent for a moment, wondering if you’d heard right, before you beam, grinning so widely and laughing so softly in disbelief he knows it’s not meant to mock, it’s why he doesn’t make a fuss.

“You admit it.” Your hand unravels from his only because he reluctantly lets it, rewarded when he feels the warm pressure of your hand as it comes up to cup his cheek gently, in which he leans into your touch almost instantly. Needy man.

The silence washes over you both again, but this time it’s not heavy with denial or unsaid words, only the calm that comes with acceptance and a new beginning. 

When he doesn’t look away from you, doesn’t deny that yes, he does feel something for you, something he’s yearned for all his life—you lean in to let your nose brush against his, his breath ghosts against yours, mingling for just a moment until finally his lips meet yours.

He doesn’t hide the affection he holds for you, it’s all consuming and heartachingly tender the way he lets you lead—and how wonderful it is to be reminded that you still feel the same. As if your feelings for him would have ever changed.

While yes, you may have loved V, you adore Vergil.

[mixingandmelting]

May I request smth like batboys + bruce reacting to their fem!reader gifting them these couple hoodies? 🥺🥺🥺

Bruce:

He smirks and raises an eyebrow. It was one thing to own couple-coded dresswear, but an actual couple’s outfit?

“’Somebody’s problem’?” A mix of amusement and affection underlies his voice as he pulls out the one that’s obviously meant for him and keeps it at arm’s length away.

“What? It’s true! Everyone can agree I’m not the problem ninety percent of the time.” He simply snorts, the teasing tilt and grin a dead give away that you were bluffing.

Eyeing you for a second, he goes back to taking in the sweatshirt. The softness of a mix of polyester and cotton with words sewn in the middle. It’s as if you’ve physically given a part of yourself, warm and soft that he can stay engulfed all day. And the very thought of it is enough to make his heart flutter faster.

It was enjoyable to say the least, when he wore it while staying in the Batcave the next day. While comforted at the thought that you’re with him, it was hilarious to see how everyone does a double-take at it and becomes the hot topic of the week.

Dick:

The second he sees them; he instantly falls in love and nearly squeals.

“What? No. What? Stop. You didn’t” He holds one of the sweatshirts next to his face, his lips stretching into a wide smile.

To think you’d get matching sweatshirts. Is this your way of claiming him? Or telling others, you’re his?

“Well, they were on sale and looked cute-“

“Cute?” His eyes wide, his lips in the shape of an “o” as if you personally offended him. “Just cute? These are more than cute.”

Then, clenching the sweatshirt in his hand, you yelp when he pulls you close and starts twirling you in the air.

“Dick! Put me down!”

“Not until you know this is one of the best things you could possibly give me.”

He was an absolute pain for the rest of the week, rotating between the two sweatshirts every other day (yes, both even if yours is a tight fit) and annoying everyone from making the sign for people to ask so he can brag about them nonstop while reminding you to wear whatever one he’s NOT wearing whenever the two of you head out. 

Jason:

Oh? Oh. Oh-

It slowly dawns to him what exactly he got and, as soon as it clicks, his cheeks flush while the corner of lips curls up into a grin.

You’re cute. So cute. So damn adorable he might die all over again because of it. It’s obvious that they are, the signs clear as day with one in your size, the other in his.

So many thoughts pass through his mind: the fact that it’s a first for him, you wanting to keep you and him tied together, people within and outside of each other’s circles noticing the two of you are a couple. It’s giving him the butterflies, the good butterflies that makes him want to kick his feet.

“…Well? Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” He gulps, trying to tame the excitement and happiness that threatens to bubble out and lose his composure. “Yeah, I really like it.”

“Like” was a big understatement. On top of getting to go around and show off he was yours; he had fun scaring off every person that tried to hit on you as the sweatshirt gave that needed extra push and paired well with his protective-boyfriend-glare.

Tim:

It’s his birthday. Christmas. Both.

Nonstop, his thumbs brush over the fabric of both sweatshirts.

“Where did you get them?” He asks, his eyes glued and unable to look away.

“Online. Couldn’t resist after seeing some of the couples on TikTok wearing them, you know?”

Oh, don’t worry, he knows. What he doesn’t is how you were able to pull this off behind his back, without him even noticing. He may be busy day and night, but he still keeps tabs on you (you know, him being a vigilante and all doesn’t make him the safest person to really date – er, that’s his excuse anyways).  

Then there’s your indirect confession that you pretty much think about him as much he thinks about you, regardless where he and you are. And that’s-

“Tim? You okay? You look like you have a fever.”

The two of you argue over who’s the one that’s problematic. It’s him who ends up, begrudgingly, being “Somebody’s Problem” though he didn’t mind as much after cuddling with you for a whole day with a kiss stamped on his cheek.

Duke:

Only two words: Hell. Yes.

“And it’s for the two of us?” His eyes sparkling and continuously glancing between you and the gift you gave him.

“That is the idea.”

“Wherever, whenever?”

“If you want to…?”

“At school, on dates?”

“You do realize we go to school that requires a uniform-“You huff and raise your hands up at the look he gives you. “Yes, okay, sure. At school and on dates.”

He winces then turns sheepish, rubbing the back of his head apologetically. He didn’t mean to get this worked up, never having thought or needing a couple's merch. He was fine that he got to be with you. It’s once you give him the sweatshirt, he realizes why so many couples buy them or matching anything in general.

He insists that he wears the other only for you to somehow convince him to wear the sweatshirt with “Somebody”. It takes time to get used to, a bit bashful when his family, Bat and biological, and friends teases him though it was nice to hear from strangers you both made a perfect couple.

Damian:

“What’s this supposed to be?” Despite the heavy judgement in the (rhetorical) question, the corner of his lips continuously twitches.

Common fabric. None of the letters are the same size, and worse, in Comic Sans – they’re not cute; it’s tacky at best. Ugly is what he wants to say and he can if he really wants to. There’s only one problem that stops him: you. Two sweatshirts in similar shades including the thread forms the words, there’s no doubt they were meant to be worn as a pair by a certain pair of people.

Add that to him battling every single person to stay away from you twenty-four-seven, it does a lot of critical damage to him seeing you willingly got something to show you people you’re his.

Suddenly, he scowls, placing a hand over his heart that pounds hard against his chest.

“…Damian, do you not like it? I can always return it and get something el-“

“Who said that I didn’t like it?” He ignores your confusion, keeping the sweatshirts out of your reach out of worry you’d actually take it away from him.

He does give you an earful later after realizing which one was meant for him while putting it on with you, wearing it regardless.

[judesmoonbeauty]

Fan translation only. Accuracy not 100%. Please expect grammatical errors. Creative liberties are taken. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere, claim them as your own, or use them without my permission. Thank you for your support! ☾.

We couldn’t catch a carriage after work, so we were walking down the street at night.

(The moon’s so pretty tonight…..)

Reflecting on the Thames, the moon is a perfectly round, soft, creamy color.

The cool night breeze paired with the lovely moon made me feel both refreshed, and my steps lighter.

Not long after, I was walking a step ahead of Jude.

Jude: Ain’t helpin’ ya if take a tumble.

Kate: Pff- Yes, I know.

Having said that, I know that if I really do fall, he’ll help me.

Jude: ……Kate.

Kate: Yeah? Oh!

When I turned at my name being called, something was suddenly tossed to me.

The character for “to thow” is used. However, it can also mean “to toss.” Given the distance from each other and the setting, I feel like toss is more appropriate than throw.

Kate: What’s with the random box?

Jude looked more serious than usual.

Jude: Just open it.

Sensing that something was out of the ordinary, I gingerly opened the box given to me, and found a silver ring inside—

Kate: Jude, what is this….

When I looked up in shock, he appeared exasperated.

Jude: Daft princess, dont’cha get what it means?

Kate: Huh?

Jude: Guess not. Yer a perverted masochist who doesn’t know when to quit, who keep’s comin’ at me, ‘n who’s so foolish it makes me wanna weep.

Kate: Why are you saying mean things about me?!

However, he was looking straight at me, so his insults didn’t even register.

Jude: But yer the only one I have.

The night breeze passes between us, leaving space for one person.

Jude: Ya didn’t ridicule my dream about goin’ to the moon, ‘n ya accepted us cursin’ each other.

Jude: Yer the only woman who can laugh like an idiot, ‘n keep her resolve.

The moonlight shone upon us like we were the only ones in the universe.

Jude: My mind’s been made up since the day I started goin’ steady with ya.

Jude: To give ya my last name. Marry me, Kate.

His words strike my heart, warming my entire being and causing tears to well up in my eyes.

While I was unable to contain my sobs any longer, Jude gave me the most gentle smile I’d ever seen.

Jude: S’what’s it gonna be, Kate.

I nodded repeatedly as I wiped away my tears.

Still, they start pouring again as I clutched the ring and cried out.

Kate: Please make me your wife, Jude!

He laughed at my weepy reply.

Jude: That’s damn fine answer.

He hugged me, smiled as he wiped away my tears and kissed me—

The morning after the happy proposal, I was taking a walk while staring at the engagement ring when Ellis appeared.

Ellis: Oh, that’s...

Kate: Oh, this is...

Ellis smiled before bringing up Jude.

The line literally reads, “Ellis smiled before speaking to Jude.” However, Jude isn’t present at the time as you’ll see in the line below, and he never directly speaks to Jude, so I opted to translate the line this way.

Ellis: Jude finally gave it to you. Congratulations, Kate.

Kate: ….Finally?

As I tilt my head, Ellis whispers.

Ellis: Jude’s been preparing to give you a ring for a long time now Kate.

Kate: What…..

In astonishment I try to look at the ring again, but a hand reaches out from behind and hugs me.

Jude: The hell ya blabberin’ on about.

When Jude appeared, Ellis grinned and silently waved his hand as he walked away.

(So he’s been getting this ready for a long time….)

Jude: What’cha smilin’ fer?

Kate: Heh…..

As I smiled at the surprising fact I just learned, he grabbed my cheeks and forced me to look up.

His amethyst eyes were annoyed, but still looked at me lovingly.

(Yeah….I’m so hopelessly in love with this guy.)

I wanted to tell him just how much I love him.

Kate: Jude, I love you.

Kate: I’ll love you forever.

In both lines, Kate uses “大好き” (Daisuki), which means to “like very much.” It is holds a lot of affection, and is more commonly used to express love.

He blinked in surprise at my declaration and then instantly changed his expression.

Jude: I love you.

Jude uses the kanji “愛” (Ai). If you don’t know this is a HUGE thing to say….especially for him. It also means "I love you", but it's used very rarely. Typically only for special occasions such as proposals, weddings, deathbeds, that sort of thing. It carries the weight of unconditional or sacrificial love, and loving for the other person’s sake.

Smiling softly, he kissed my lips.

To fulfill our promise to curse each other until the very end—

I will live with you.

[Event Master List]

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Tag list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @yuoi-the-magnificent @husbandosandladders @nawlink @justgiulia @vickietickie @greedyqueensfavourite @sharigax @belphiesleftpinkytoe @reimy1164 @barellorkilaam @goustmilk @aceuuuuu @yamaguchisaori @hiphiphooray4val @mika797 @spectraphobic-blog @kiyomizuki @cosmowgyral @lunaaka @rosalyne08 @8the-perfect-lie8 @voydsoul @kraiyne @midnightsrunaway @czechmatee7

[star-mum]

hello lovelies, I'm finally free : D

Once again, I'll read it without checking the tags, I'm in the mood for surprises :3

"Isaac Lahey pulled you far away to somewhere secluded" we're starting with SEX !!! pwp? maybe (well not without completely cause i know you, but little plot?)

"which would soon be filled with sweaty assholes" usually it's the other way around

"11. McCall" : O

oh okay not cheating... (said dejectedly)

"his eyes flashing that glowing golden yellow" JAOAOWIAJA W AAAAHH I'VE MISSED WOLF SHENANIGANS (literally giggling and kicking my feet)

"and fuck you senseless, feeling like an overeager dog" derek is an idiot cause this FUCKING RULES !!!!!

"Your gut had shriveled up when you saw that it was one with Scott’s name and lacrosse number on it" Lydia knows EXACTLY what she's doing, don't be fooled

"if it meant that you had been misleading him or leading him on" I think he knows, yes Scott is stupid but he can smell Isaac on us afterwards

(you have no idea how much I've missed these dumb dogs and their dumb abo dynamics)

(I'm also on my ovulation period so very horny) (sorry if tmi)

(if youre not sunny and you're reading this, I am not sorry actually, you chose this)

"She was excited that the two of you would look ‘coordinated’ cheering for your ‘boyfriends’" this was calculated, don't fall for her lies !!!!

"weird spiritual sexual codependency" delicious

"All of it was to make Isaac jealous - to get some kind of a rise out of him" terrible for Scott but he'll live... not the first time this has happened to him

"feeling of his teeth digging into your neck" hihi 🫣🤭🤭

"the first small indicator of his facade cracking" he's the pathetic pussy

"Was supposed to be treasured as yours" 🥺

"knowing that those tights emphasized your thick thighs" FAT READER !!!!!!

"he slashed his claws across your chest, shredding the fabric to pieces" scared is the best way to be horny, Eleanor Shellstrop always right

"you would have been angrier about if not for the very pretty boy currently sucking on your face" sacrifices must be made...

"You have to ‘take it off’ too" please for the love of god, I am NOT fucking you in this dumbass get up, Isaac

"You act like a dumb slut all the time.” SKSKKSKS YEEEEAAAHHH (I love all your readers so much, they're so fun)

"You don’t have to be so mean" QOAJAIAKAN he is SO cute tho

"He wouldn’t take a step in any direction if it wasn’t to stand in your shadow. He didn’t worship anywhere if it wasn’t at your altar" WOWOWOWOWOWOWOW

"Owning a pet meant that sometimes you came off with a few tiny wounds" i love this so much

"cooling the salvia he had left there" this is always my favorite typo in ANY smut fic ever cause it's just proof the writer was going at the speed of light to bring the vision to life (i can fear the frantic typing)

"Get on your knees for me like a good dog" hell yeah

"more than eager to shove his face into the folds of your perfect pussy" every single guy in this show has this energy, they all eat pussy like they're starved

"There was no skill to it" but damn it if he's not giving it his all

"Behave.” “I wasn’t done.” i love them

"beyond human strength helping him to easily lift you" one of my FAVORITE things in this show

"Such a sweet little puppy. Good fucking dog" LOVE IT HERE

"the metal started to crumble beneath his fist" ‼️‼️OJNANAOAKANA HIHI 🫣

"Especially knowing that he would be able to smell that cum on you for hours" another one of my favorite things about this show :3

"Somehow, at six-foot-one, he looked so terribly small" he just has that pathetic sad vibe to him

"I’ll even get you a dog collar with my name on it so that everyone can know you’re mine" HE'D WEAR IT !!!!!!

I LOVED THIS !!! I LOVE IT HERE !!! this felt like coming home, I've missed this

seriously the ending of this semester was so fucking stressful (for a myriad of reasons) I REALLY NEEDED SOMETHING NICE LIKE THIS !!!!

The Good, The Bad, and The Dirty

If you wanna start a fight,

You better throw the first punch - make it a good one.

And if you wanna make it through the night,

You better say my name like:

The Good, The Bad, and The Dirty.

Sub!Isaac Lahey x Dom!Fem!Reader

Summary:

What you and Isaac had going on wasn't exactly public - and whatever it was didn't have a title. Sexual, friendship, two souls entwined and bound to each other in an utterly complicated way.

Whatever. It didn't have a label. The two of you didn't need one.

But Isaac definitely didn't expect to see you showing up to a lacrosse game wearing Scott's number with the name McCall boldly across your chest. All he knew from the moment he saw that stupid shirt on your chest was that the night was going to end with it shredded to pieces.

(He had no clue that was precisely your plan from the start, because you knew how to guide him exactly where you wanted him - every. Single. Time.)

Sub!Isaac Lahey x Dom!Fem!Reader. Best Friends with Benefits (Secret Relationship) to Lovers. Smut/PWP. Set during Season 3.

Word Count: 7,200

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below.

Warnings: this is primarily a smut fic - there is some slight plot; this does take place in a high school setting, but just for the sake of clarity/for the sake of argument, the characters are eighteen or older; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina and breasts (but as with all my fics, the primary pronouns used are you/yours); mention of the reader wearing a skirt;there is some descriptions of the reader being curvy/plus sized (as with many of my fics - and I always just picture Isaac with a plus sized girl) (absolutely no bias there), and there is mentions of Isaac being taller than the reader, but that is based on the assumption that at 6.1, he would be taller than most people; there is also mentions of Isaac lifting the reader due to his supernatural strength, but her back is also supported by a wall so it’s not wholly unrealistic; mentions of background Scott x reader (mostly the reader using Scott to make Isaac jealous and Scott having feelings for the reader that she does not return), and this would have been when Scott and Allison were broken up because I would not do my girl wrong like that (you can even interpret this as Scott using the reader to help ‘get over’ Allison if you want); some non-detailed mentions of the abuse Isaac received from his father (which is pretty difficult not to mention in an Isaac fic); there is some dom/sub themes - Isaac is submissive and the reader is more dominant; Isaac is jealous and possessive - very slight angst because it discusses Isaac’s jealousy coming from a place of being hurt; this is not the first time that Isaac and the reader have had sex with each other; Isaac and the reader have been best friends since before his father’s death (and his werewolfism) and they recently started having sex, and they have a murky situationship; the reader clearly knows that Isaac is a werewolf; mention of Isaac ‘pinning the reader down’ and fucking her (in a memory) (and she loved it); Isaac calls the reader a ‘slut’ and a ‘whore’ - not in a kinky way, but over the fact that he is deeply offended that she was flirting with Scott and pretending to like him; in turn, the reader calls Isaac a slut in a kinky way; the reader also calls Isaac ‘puppy’ and ‘good boy’; hair pulling - Isaac receiving; something like subspace is described (regarding what Isaac is feeling) but the word ‘subspace’ is never used during the fic; the characters do not discuss having a safe word in place, but they trust each other due to their history and know how to nonverbally balance each other’s needs; Isaac using his claws to shred a shirt that the reader wears with Scott’s numbers on it, and in the process he accidentally scratches her chest slightly (but she likes she slight pain); very slight blood kink - Isaac licks up the blood from these small cuts; I feel like there should be a warning for the endless amounts of dog imagery because I cannot stop comparing Isaac to a kicked dog because it works to well; lacrosse pads being used for slut activities; oral sex - reader receiving; Isaac has an extreme scent kink (he loves the way the reader smells); praise kink - Isaac loves being praised by the reader; penis in vagina sex; unprotected sex; (surprisingly, there’s no breeding kink in this); I think that’s actually it for this - one stray joke about the reader getting Isaac a dog dollar.

A/N: I had so much fun writing this. As soon as the request hit my inbox, I knew I was going to write it at some point. Part of me kind of feels bad that I didn't write the expected jealousy = dominance - you may notice when you read the fic, I started out writing Isaac as dominant, but I cannot help writing him as submissive, and it turned into this interesting painting of 'his dominance is a performed act, and submissiveness is his true self' and 'his jealousy is possessiveness, not dominance' and possessiveness is a very submissive trait. (I could go more into depth about this in another post, and I probably will.) People often associate possessiveness with Doms, but I see Isaac as the most possessive Sub ever because he's a wolf. Anyway - I am really happy with how this turned out, and even if it's not what the original requester intended, I think the point of a request is that the author gets to interpret it and write it in their own style. And this is definitely how I would write it most true to my style. Also this has references to Season 3 - like Lydia dating Aiden and Isaac fighting the Alpha pack, but this is set after a lacrosse game, and in S3, they were in the off season of lacrosse. and I can guarantee you my autistic ass is the only one who cares about that and you didn't even notice until I pointed it out. So please - carry on.

...

The lacrosse field of Beacon Hills High School was absolutely buzzing. 

The night air was filled with cheers as the team and many fans were celebrating another win, while the opposing team sulked in disappointment as they packed onto their bus with their heads hung low, their coach screaming at them for the loss. Chatter and celebration filled the air - but you didn’t get a single moment to be a part of it as Isaac Lahey pulled you far away to somewhere secluded. Somewhere only he could get to have you.  

He currently had you pinned up against one of the lockers in the girls’ locker room. It was a place that nobody would think to look for the two of you - a place that wouldn’t be entered for the rest of the night, unlike the boys’, which would soon be filled with sweaty assholes shedding their kits and getting a shower before they went off to some party to celebrate their victory. Isaac had locked the door to make sure that the two of you would be left alone, and left the lights off so that nobody would be suspicious of any light coming from the crack beneath the door. 

But right now, none of those details mattered. 

All that mattered was that stupid number in the middle of your chest. That stupid block lettering sitting across your perfect round breasts. 

11. McCall. 

You could claim that you had worn it as a joke. But as Isaac locked his jaw stiffly, staring you down - you didn’t think that you would be getting away with that claim. 

“Take it off.” Isaac growled at you, his eyes flashing that glowing golden yellow, a visual that made your breath tight in your chest and made your cunt quiver. 

You remembered the first time you had seen that glow coming from his eyes - the first night he had found you after he received The Bite, when he was still high on adrenaline and warned by Derek not to do anything ‘stupid’. And the stupid thing he had done was climb up the side of your house, claw in through your bedroom window with the clumsy hands he barely knew how to use, and pin you down to your bed and fuck you senseless, feeling like an overeager dog with intensely swollen balls, feeling like he was too strong and going through puberty all over again. 

It had been one of the best nights of your life. 

“What?” You said, your voice even, calm, not even close to mocking dubious. “Take what off?” 

You were faking confusion - faking it poorly, easily signaling to him that you knew exactly what he was talking about. 

It was a dare. You were egging him on purposefully. The two of you always had the best sex when you did. That’s what the whole night was about, after all. 

Lydia had gotten the shirts made - she had gotten one for herself with Aiden’s name and lacrosse number on it, and she had told you that it was cheaper to ‘order multiple at a time’, and then she had pulled out one in your size. Your gut had shriveled up when you saw that it was one with Scott’s name and lacrosse number on it. 

A plain white tee shirt in a feminine, tight fit with burgundy vinyl lettering to match the school’s colours. Lydia had ordered them in white because she said it would be easier to make into an outfit, and she didn’t want to ‘wear that god awful colour’ with her nice coats. 

You had gone on one single date with Scott. He asked you out, you said yes. It had been a pleasant, average evening that ended with a bit of kissing. It was nice - Scott was a great guy. But it definitely hadn’t been anything special. It had only driven home in your mind that you definitely didn’t have those feelings for Scott. And you felt guilty for every single time you had flirted with him in Isaac’s presence just to make Isaac jealous, if it meant that you had been misleading him or leading him on. 

A while ago, Lydia had been talking about guys, and she said something about ‘you and Scott’ and not even fully paying attention, you agreed with her. And then she cheered, and you realized that she had been talking about romantic couplings among your friend group. She thought that your flirting with Scott and the one single date meant that the two of you were dating - so she took this as a greenlight to order you the shirt. She was excited that the two of you would look ‘coordinated’ cheering for your ‘boyfriends’ in the stands. 

But more than anything, you felt awkward correcting her because you couldn’t exactly tell her about the thing that you and Isaac had going on. 

Mostly because you had no clue what to call it. 

The two of you had been best friends for years, and you had been his rock and his confidant before anybody else knew what was going on with his father. And then, shortly after he had made the grand transformation from abused introvert to powerful (hot) werewolf, the two of you had started… this. 

Some might call it ‘friends with benefits’, some might call it a weird spiritual sexual codependency that had truly begun with you patching up his wounds from the beatings his father had given him. Either way, the slight flirting of your normal friendship ramped up tenfold, and now, every single time the two of you were behind closed doors together, the intense sexual tension in the air built until you were both partially unclothed and moaning. 

And in the outside world, the two of you were constantly at war. You were constantly in the throes of a game that nobody else knew was going on. You both refused to name each other as a romantic partner, but you were constantly in some kind of effort to get the other’s attention or make the other person jealous. He flirted with Allison and Erica, and… that stupid game was the only reason you had gone on a date with Scott. It had been a relatively nice date, but you hadn’t felt a single sense of the spark with Scott that you did with Isaac. 

And it was the only reason that you were wearing the stupid shirt that Lydia had given to you. It was the only reason you had sat in the stands beside Lydia with your jacket unzipped and even taken off all night in the cold, showing off that shirt, loudly cheering for Scott, putting on a show. 

All of it was to make Isaac jealous - to get some kind of a rise out of him. 

And it had worked so damn well. Seeing his clenched jaw, his flared nostrils… seeing the way his sharp fangs extended out over his lips as if he couldn’t control them while he looked at you with hellish lust in his eyes… you were almost terrified by how well you had succeeded. Almost. 

“Take. It. Off.” He growled, grinding on each word, his chest now heaving with the effort. 

“Make me.” You mumbled in reply, entirely confident, hoping that further teasing would only wind him up more. Hoping that it would only beautifully play into your game. 

He stepped closer to you and when you instinctively took a step back, your body hit the cold metal of the lockers, and you swallowed harshly as your body pumped with more lust. It was oddly thrilling to be so trapped - only because it was Isaac. And because you knew there was only one way this could end. 

Because your body was preparing for the sensations you knew came next - the ghost of his touch already lingering on you, your mind replaying those past events like grooves in a record. It caused you to become wetter and wetter just thinking about the feeling of his teeth digging into your neck, the feeling of his hands possessively gripping your hips, the feeling of his cock splitting you open. 

His breath ghosted over your forehead, his height towering over you somehow not intimidating at all as he pressed his hard body (disappointingly still clad in lacrosse pads, keeping you from feeling the true ridges of his muscles) up against you, truly ensuring that you could not escape. Not that you would want to escape from him. 

He took a thick sniff into the air, his nostrils flaring widely, and you knew he could smell it on you - the lust, the pure attraction you felt toward him, the adrenaline. Or maybe it was just the pure smell of your pussy pathetically leaking into your underwear that he was picking up on. Either way, he let out a whine, the first small indicator of his facade cracking, and you felt his hips jolt toward you, instinctively seeking friction. 

“Why the fuck are you doing this to me?” 

Isaac growled, still trying to sound tough, the words bordering on a pained howl. There was a unique agony in his voice as he stared down the length of your body and continued to fixate on those numbers on your chest, true haunting dancing in his pretty baby blues. 

Your gut twisted horribly as you realized it. This wasn’t just something he could brush off in the name of sex. You had really hurt him this time. Perhaps you had gone too far this time. Something that had started out as a well-meaning game of cat and mouse had turned into truly taunting a wolf - and unintentionally, you had wounded that wolf. 

That wolf that, even if it was never spoken, was supposed to be yours. Was supposed to be treasured as yours. 

You had gotten so caught up in playing the stupid game that you had made a terrible mistake. 

But you needed to see it through now. 

You reached up and grabbed both sides of his face, forcing him to look you in the eyes. 

“Make me.” You repeated the words, and Isaac let out another huff. “Make me take it off, Isaac.” He replied to this with a growl from deep in his chest, a sound that vibrated through your hands on his delicate, angelic face. “Make me yours.” 

He reached up with one hand in the middle of your chest and gently pushed you back, making sure your body was stiff and firm against the metal of the lockers, propping you there like hanging art on a wall. And then he took a small step to distance himself, his eyes flickering up and down your body sharply, drinking you in even though he had seen you thousands of times before. 

It had been torture - pure torture all night. From the moment he had seen you unzip your jacket, revealing that fucking shirt with Scott’s name on it (and the fact that you had paired it with a tiny little skirt and a pair of sheer tights… knowing that those tights emphasized your thick thighs, his favourite part of your body… just to torture him…) - he had been tempted to ditch off the field completely and run up into the stands just to tear it off you. Just to prove a fucking point. 

But that hadn’t even been the worst part of it. No. One of the words parts had been the fact that he was forced to stay on the field all night listening. Over-hearing you chatting it up with Lydia and Allison about your ‘date’ with Scott, talking about kissing him, theorizing about what having sex with him might be like. You had known he was listening the whole time. You knew his hearing was enhanced enough, and you knew that he had a special knack for picking up on your voice in a crowd. You had been doing it on purpose. 

And every time he glanced over between goals and saw Scott’s name stretched across your perfect tits… it killed him a little more inside. 

While thinking about all this, while thinking about the fact that he had been waiting to do this all night - 

Isaac raised up his hand, very intentionally flaring his claws, bold enough for you to see what his next move would be so that you could anticipate it and wouldn’t be afraid. And his cock began to throb almost painfully between his legs when he saw you push your chest out, arching your back against the lockers as you licked your lips, silently begging for it. 

Clearly, you didn’t wear Scott’s name proudly. You were aching him to tear the shirt off you, downright lustful at the thought - biting your lip, batting your eyelashes at him, the scent of your lust even more potent in the air down. 

Such a beautiful fucking tease. 

With delicate precision, he slashed his claws across your chest, shredding the fabric to pieces and feeling a cathartic vindication as the name and number of another guy fell apart and began to fall off you. 

A twinge of guilt nearly ruined the moment as he saw the slightest bit of blood glinting across your perfect skin, gathering in your cleavage along your gorgeous stretch marks, but you didn’t seem to care, and you didn’t seem to be in the slightest bit of pain. In fact, you let out a purely lustful moan and arched your back even more, pushing your chest toward him more - making you look like a perfect porno in your shredded clothing with your red lace bra now revealed underneath. 

Though in a moment, you reached up, pulling the scraps of the fabric away and shucking off the useless remains of the shirt, throwing it to the ground like the garbage that it now was. In the back of your mind, you guessed that now you would have to put on your jacket  - which you had been carrying in your hand and tossed off to the side earlier, and zip it up completely to cover yourself in order to leave. But that didn’t matter now. You didn’t care if you would have to leave here in just your bra if you meant you got to have what would likely come next. 

Isaac indulged in the sound of your pretty panting, the way you licked your lips, and the perfect, accelerated thumping of your heartbeat in his ears. 

“Better.” He sighed in relief, much preferring the sight of your chest heaving, nearly bare in front of him than the visual of Scott’s fucking name plastered across you like he owned you. He never did, he never would - 

You let out another hot moan in response, and Isaac found himself licking his lips. 

While he stood there, frozen with his lust, too busy visually admiring you, you were driven forward by your maddening need. You grabbed the front of his jersey and yanked him forward into a heated kiss. It was a mouth that you knew well from experience by now, and it was only a second before the two of you were exchanging moans and a clash of tongues. 

He craned down, his hands possessively grappled for your thighs, those claws making quick work of your tights, putting runs and even huge holes in the sheer material, quickly exposing your skin to the cool air of the room. It was something you would have been angrier about if not for the very pretty boy currently sucking on your face. 

One of his hands moved to claw at the seam of your tights, but you quickly clamped your legs shut, trapping his wrist from moving any further, much to his whiny disappointment. You used your hold on the front of his jersey to push him away, and you were met with the most sweetly crestfallen expression - wide, glossy, sad eyes staring you down while he curled his lip, clearly wondering what he had done wrong. Wondering what he had done to be denied. 

“Not so fast.” You scolded him gently. “You have to ‘take it off’ too.” You told him, running your fingers down the front of his chest, more than offended by all the padding he was wearing in addition to the clothing. Far too much coverage. 

“I’m not the one who was acting like a whore.” Isaac huffed, clearly still wounded from the fact that you had worn Scott’s numbers. The word sounded strangely good on his lips, but still, you rolled your eyes. From him, it wasn’t dominance or power. It was slowly turning into bratty defiance in your little game. “I wasn’t out there shaking my ass in front of the crowd while wearing some other guy’s fucking number, acting like a dumb slut-” 

“Oh, please.” You let out a dark laugh, and Isaac swallowed thickly, knowing that you had truly arrived. After all the winding up - the main event had finally started. “You act like a dumb slut all the time.” 

Isaac let out a sharp breath at your words, loving how easily you tossed the words back at him. Something inside of him was absolutely purring at the harsh title that was now freshly branded into his skin. This was the moment that his brain began to melt between his ears, and any sense of the ‘tough guy’ act that he put on for the rest of the world was completely gone. 

From this point on, he was dissolving into the sweet puppy that only you were allowed to know. 

“Like now, for example.” You continued on, more venom lacing through your lips. You put on your most threatening voice, hating to get firm with him, but knowing it was necessary. “So you can strip down, and fucking behave yourself, or I can get dressed and go find Scott and see what fucking him would be like instead.” 

Isaac glared at you, and you saw that horrible quiver come across his lip again. Before you could worry that you had gone too far, he reached up and began pulling off his gear, and you heard a few muffled complaints as his pads hit the floor. 

“You don’t have to be so mean,” He told you, nothing more than a petulant whine at this point. 

He was ready to be compliant with you - ready to do whatever you said because he needed it just as much as you did. 

When he was shirtless, you didn’t wait for him to ditch his bottoms before you leaped into action once again. You reached out and tucked your fingers into the waistband of his shorts, hauling him toward you - and much like a loyal dog tight on a leash, he let himself be so easily pulled, even though he was much stronger than you and he could have overpowered you if he wanted to. 

But that was the glory of it. He was a statue of might, standing over six feet tall, shredded with muscles that were enhanced with supernatural strength, and yet - he wouldn’t hurt a fly without your permission. He wouldn’t take a step in any direction if it wasn’t to stand in your shadow. 

He didn’t worship anywhere if it wasn’t at your altar. 

He had sought out guidance anywhere and everywhere since his father had died - Derek, Scott, Deaton, even Erica. But he had only found sanity and solace at the palace of your lips. 

Which was why he moaned into your mouth as you kissed him again, quickly shoving your tongue past his teeth to remind him of why he was here. He belonged to you, and he shouldn’t do anything without your sacred permission. 

You got a firm grip on his hair and caused a sting across his scalp with how possessively you were holding onto him, causing pleasant tingles through his whole body as he was reminded of that lovely feeling of being held by you, being owned by you. You used the hold to force him tighter into your mouth, angling his head just the way you needed to kiss him firmer, deeper, controlling every single aspect of it - causing a sweet whimper out of him as he was guided like a puppet on a string. 

He had been the one to drag you here with a demanding, tight grip on your wrist - he had been the one to practically throw you up against the lockers in anger. He thought this whole thing had been his idea. 

But this had never been his game. 

Any tough moves he made out on the lacrosse field, any intimidation he managed with people like Stiles or the Alphas he had battled during the summer - it was all a farce. You were the only person that knew deep down, he was a puppy, just looking for guidance. At the end of the day, after everything he had been through in life - he was just looking for somewhere soft to lay his pretty head. 

Isaac let out a whine as you pulled away from the kiss to take a breath. He instantly wanted to protest, instantly began chasing your mouth. He didn’t care if he drowned in your mouth, if he died due to lack of oxygen. 

But of course, he didn’t settle for a lack of contact. 

While you combed your fingers through his hair and used the other hand to start untying the knot of his shorts, he immediately dipped his head down, seeking more of your precious skin. His neck almost became pained from the awkward angle, having to lean so far down due to his height - but he didn’t care. He dipped his head between your breasts and immediately began laving his tongue over the small cuts he had unintentionally left there. From him, it was a wordless apology, hanging his head in shame at the fact that he could ever hurt you, no matter how small, no matter how meaningless the tiny scratches were to you. 

In your mind, it didn’t matter. Owning a pet meant that sometimes you came off with a few tiny wounds. You would end up loving the scars. You let out small hiss at the sting of saliva, and then began moaning, and he was quickly driven mad by the twang of your blood on his tongue. 

“Isaac-” You moaned out hotly. 

He believed that he was a beast being fed by you, bound to devour you disastrously sooner or later - but you knew not to be afraid. He could do you no real harm. You could never truly be afraid of someone with such delicate sadness in his eyes. 

Especially not when he humped your hip like a lost puppy and whined against your skin like he had been kicked in the gut. His cock throbbed painfully inside his athletic cup, far too fucking restricted, crying out for your touch. He was grateful when you pushed down his shorts and his thin athletic pants underneath, and then took care to strip off his underwear and cup without hurting his sensitive, now very hard cock. 

“Aww, puppy.” You cooed - it was a playful pet name that you had used with him many times before, but for some reason, it practically punched him in the gut, easily forcing the air out of his lungs when he heard it. 

His responsive moan crescendoed into a harsh growl between his teeth when you reached out and grabbed his cock with a cool hand - it was an immediate contrast, his skin boiling hot with blood thumping so hard underneath, making his cock so rigid that it practically vibrated under your touch. The tip of his dick leaked furiously into your hand as you began casually pumping him, no distinct rhythm or precision in your movements, purposefully teasing him. 

“You need this, don’t you?” You purred, voice purposefully honey-sweet as you lapped up his reactions. “You need me.” 

“I need you.” Isaac panted in return without hesitation. “I need you, please.” 

You ran your thumb over the leaking slit of his cock, indulging in just how wet he was, loving how it showed his desperation, plain and clear. You also couldn’t help but to love the beautiful little whimper he let out from the back of his throat, the way his breath puffed across the exposed skin of your breasts, cooling the salvia he had left there. Your skin becoming more exposed as he reached a hand up and yanked down your bra, putting strain on the straps where they sat on your shoulders. 

“You gonna earn it?” You posed, feeling the devil on your shoulder, unable to resist. Isaac only whined in response. “Get on your knees for me like a good dog.” 

Isaac’s breath caught in his throat. 

When he had first become a werewolf and you had found out about it, you had made a good many ‘dog’ jokes about him. And he used to hate them. But over time, he had come to love the comparison because he loved being your dog. (It’s why the nickname ‘puppy’ put a warm fondness in his gut rather than making him feel humiliated.)  

He knew, at the end of the day, that it was true. He needed to be owned by you, he needed a damn leash. He was intensely loyal, despite himself. And no matter what, at the end of the day, he would always return to you, head down, looking for praise, looking to be fed - whether that was a feeding of the soul, or stupidly literal, who knows. 

Any other time, the words would have been embarrassing - it would have been something he argued against. But this time - he practically let out a bark to demonstrate his pure loyalty to you, and he rushed to follow the simple order. Even though he hated your touch leaving his cock as he dropped to his knees on the cold tiled floor (thankful that he was still wearing his knee pads where his clothing was caught in a tangle just above them), he was more than eager to serve you. He used a careful, precise claw to reach up and shred a hole in the crotch of your tights, quick to destroy your underwear as well when he found them in his way. 

“Good boy.” You easily praised him, and he found his brain once again delightfully fuzzy at the simple words. 

Your fingers were in his hair again, but he didn’t even need your touch driving him forward. He was drawn to your exposed cunt like a madman, more than eager to shove his face into the folds of your perfect pussy. He used a hand to lift your perfect plump thigh and pull it up over his shoulder, inviting you to sit some of your weight on him so that he could be closer to you, ever closer, closer. He shoved his tongue deep into your hot, wet hole and shoved his nose between your folds, unintentionally bumping against your clit, just hungry to taste and smell as much of you as he possibly could. 

“Isaac!” You moaned out, using your hold on his hair to try and keep him in place while you humped against his face, causing him to moan enthusiastically into your pussy. “Oh fuck, puppy! You’re so good.” 

The combination of the praise and the nickname was absolutely dizzying, and along with your wetness on his tongue, your smell so potent and perfect surrounding him - he felt as though he didn’t deserve something this good. But he didn’t care. He quickly became obsessed with drowning himself in you - with one hand possessively gripping your thigh beside his head and the other gripping the edge of your skirt, moaning frantically into you while he fucked his tongue in and out of you, lapping up as much of your taste as he could. 

“Oh fuck - such a sweet puppy, so good for me.” 

There was no skill to it. 

He was growing dumb between the ears, becoming more and more of the dog that you accused him of being - nothing but animal instincts and the loyal need to please you. He humped his hips into the air and his cock began leaking openly onto the floor, leaving a pathetic puddle of precum there that neither of you would notice, something that would have the janitor questioning later. 

Currently, all Isaac cared about was the taste of your pussy on his tongue, the wonderful essence of you that reminded him he was home. All he cared about was being good for you while getting a reward that he barely deserved; all he cared about was the wonderful heat of your pulsing cunt under his lips with your vibrating little button bouncing on his nose, getting to smother himself in your perfect scent. 

“Yes baby, so fucking good-” 

All of his moaning and insistent tongue-fucking meant that you were drawing close to your orgasm very quickly. 

Your thighs began to shake, your muscles jolting beside his head and he continued to lap it right up. He moaned even harder, angling his head to drive his tongue deeper into you as you became wetter, and he only basked as there was more for him to consume. You panted in harsh gasps as beautiful jolts of pleasure rang through your cunt while his tongue pierced you again, and again, and again, fucking you in the most perfectly thoughtless way. 

Your fingers dug into his scalp and he didn’t even care that you used the touch to drive him further to smothering while you rubbed your pussy across his face, smearing your wetness all over his cheeks and his chin, coating him so perfectly in your smell. He could only enjoy it as you came all over him and tipped your head back against the lockers behind you, your moans echoing against the walls like a perfect concert while the boys in the locker room across the hall were none the wiser. (The chatter of their conversations and the sound of their showers completely muting out the sound of your moans from reaching their ears.) 

“Fuck, Isaac! Oh, puppy! Such a good boy!” 

Isaac moaned at your words and his cock was downright throbbing now. 

But even though, in the back of his mind, his dick was cold in the air of the room and he wanted nothing more than to sink into your perfect pussy, he still felt a deep pang of disappointment when you used your grip on his hair to pull him away from your perfect, wet cunt. He let out a whine showing that disappointment, and fought to keep your leg on his shoulder as you moved to pull away. But still, he ultimately conceded to you when you patted his hand off your thigh and scolded him with a glare and a quiet warning of: 

“Behave.” 

“I wasn’t done.” He complained, his voice small. 

But still, he settled for licking your taste off his lips, looking up at you through his lashes from down on his knees. You combed your finger through his hair again, unable to stop yourself from admiring him, even if he was being a bit of a selfish brat. 

He was just so damn pretty. 

Porcelain skin stretched over perfect muscles, big pretty blue eyes staring up at you, his cock out and still leaking, bright red now due to being neglected by you. You couldn’t have imagined a more perfect sight. You couldn’t help but to reach down and drag your thumb through some of the lingering wetness on his chin and feed it to him - and of course, he ate it right up, sucking the digit eagerly into his mouth and moaning around it. 

“Oh? So you don’t want to fuck me then?” You posed, playing off his words with a teasing statement that easily drove him mad. 

These words quickly sparked him to action. 

He jumped up off his knees, rising to his tall height once again, somehow so unintimidating. Such a sweet little wolf. 

With your back pinned up against the lockers for support, he grabbed your legs and pulled you up off the ground, his beyond human strength helping him to easily lift you so that you could wrap your legs around his waist - and just a moment later, as his cock perfectly lined up with your soaked entrance, you easily fell onto that perfect, stiff shaft. 

He didn’t hesitate to fuck up into you. He knew you didn’t need soft and you definitely weren’t expecting it, and any sense of patience he might have had was long gone. There was no sweetness, no slowness - all that was left was his pure possessive need to be close to you and your guiding hand driving him on, encouraging him as you dug your nails into his shoulders, leaving marks that would never last with his werewolf healing. 

“Good boy.” You told him, your breath slipping away for a moment as you were reminded of just how perfectly his cock could split you open. “Fuck, Isaac.” 

He kept one hand tight on your hip and the other went above your head, hanging onto the top of the lockers, desperate to hold on to something as he felt your perfect, hot wetness gripping his cock. Following his instincts, he fucked forward, slamming his hips into you, needing to feel more, needing to be closer to your warmth - needing more of you. 

“Need you.” He panted, his head falling to press his forehead close to yours, something that felt sweetly intimate for the situation, his eyes squinted tightly as he became overwhelmed by the sensations. “Fuck - need you, need you so much.” 

“Come on, puppy.” You encouraged him. “Come on, take what you need.” 

You tightened your legs around his waist, his movements nearly threatening to buck you off as he moved his hips so wildly - sheer need absolutely tight in every muscle as thick whines poured from his lips. You were eager to soothe him, your hands running up and down his sweaty back - some of it lingering from the hard work he had done during the game and some of new from how hard he was fucking you now, lighting up all the nerve endings inside your pussy, making you feel so perfect. 

“Such a good boy.” You moaned, your breath brushing against his lips - his mouth open as he struggled for air and continued to whimper sweetly for you. “Such a sweet little puppy. Good fucking dog.” 

Isaac let out a growl, fucking into you harder, his brain pure static at this point. 

Yes - he was a good dog. He was your good dog. 

He couldn’t help it when the pleasure surged through him, the pure energy, and his grip on the lockers above your head tightened so much that the metal started to crumble beneath his fist as if it was nothing more than a piece of paper. You heard the terrible shrieking groan of the metal, but you didn’t even bother to look up - you couldn’t have taken your eyes off Isaac in those moments. You were far too enraptured by your puppy in front of you, by the nearly pained look on his face, by the feeling of his perfect cock splitting you open as he faithfully fucked up into your pussy, not stopping for even a moment. 

You brought a hand to his face, grasping his jaw between your thumb and forefinger, digging the touch in - just a twinge of pain to get his attention, a firm grip to remind him that he was yours. 

“Look at me.” You demanded, your breath hot, your voice shaking slightly as the pleasure shook your body. “Come on, puppy - look at me.” 

He forced his eyes open, eager to be good for you, eager to do as you said. He gulped air in as he continued to grip onto your hip, the locker crumbling even more into a mess as the tension in his muscles was wrought into it, forced there rather than ever be taken out on you - even unconsciously, he could never use too much force on you. 

The silken blue that looked at you was a sight so beautiful that you couldn’t bear to look away, a mess of lust and ravenous madness, a prayer of devotion to you that was far too complex for words. You gave him a small, sweet kiss on the lips that he moaned so deeply at, his hips stuttering terribly as his balls downright ached - 

“Cum for me.” You demanded, the words a firm smack against his mouth, a punch to his gut that made him cry out. “Cum for me, puppy, be a good boy, come on-” 

He let out a strangled moan that dissolved into a downright filthy whimper from the back of his throat as his hips sped up, his skin practically blurring as he was now given precious permission from you. Your cunt became utterly sore with the speed and pressure his pelvis kept hitting you with, continually pounding into you with that impossible strength, the sound resonating harshly through the room, nearly threatening to break you. 

But it was only a few breathless moments later that a moan punched through his gut and you heard something that resembled your name choked through his throat - and then he fucked into you one last time, his hips then becoming glued to yours, almost entirely still in contrast to moments before. He ground against you sharply, overstimulating your swollen clit with the stiffness of his pelvis as he seemingly tried to merge with you through persistent will alone as he pumped his cum inside of you in warm spurts. 

“Good puppy,” You hummed, continuing to run your hands up and down his back and through his hair. You kissed down his cheek and his neck and along his shoulder, praising him, soothing him, worshipping him just like he deserved while his cock throbbed inside of you. “Good boy. So fucking good for me.” 

He moaned in return, words lost to the stupidly thick tongue inside of his mouth - one that was only capable of licking up and down your neck while he humped his cock inside of you for a few more moments, enjoying your soothing words and the warmth of your pussy around him as his orgasm ebbed away. 

Unfortunately, it couldn’t last forever like that. 

You pulled him in for one last kiss - one that the two of you savoured with a moan and a dip of tongues into each other’s mouths as he pulled his cock out of you. 

(Distantly, you had a thought about how you would have to walk out of here with no underwear - because you definitely weren’t going to keep on the scraps that he had left you, gaping with remnants of his cum inside of you. And you did feel a strange sense of satisfaction in that. Especially knowing that he would be able to smell that cum on you for hours with his werewolf nose, even if you went home and changed your clothes before Lydia’s mandatory ‘Lacrosse Team Win’ celebration party - and that was enough of a reason not to take a shower and scrub the scent off.) 

He let you down and you were unsteady on your legs, much like a baby deer, still having to lean on the lockers for support while he moved to grab some toilet paper from one of the stalls to help clean you both up. 

A heavy silence fell over the two of you, unlike any other time that you had sex with Isaac. 

While you righted your clothes (prying what was left of your underwear out from underneath your tights and throwing them away, along with the scraps of the shirt that had started this all, fixing your skirt, and putting your jacket on over your bra for some coverage) - and Isaac got dressed, you wondered what would happen next. Your eyes landed on the huge dent that was now in the top of the row of lockers, and you genuinely weren’t sure if you should ask him to try and fix it, or if it would just be better to leave it like that and let people wonder. 

“Please…” 

Isaac mumbled out, his voice so quiet, raspy around the edges due to the moaning he had just done. When you whipped your head toward him, he worked up the courage to finish the sentence. 

“Please… don’t talk about Scott anymore.” 

You stared at him, puzzled, as he put on his jersey (his pads still left on the floor, seeing as he didn’t need them anymore). Clearly, his mind had been on a completely different track. He was staring you down with those sad, glassy eyes once again, and you felt a terrible twinge of guilt tighten in your gut. 

You knew that he was the jealous type. That was why you had done all this. But you couldn’t go on being his secret fling, his secret fuck. His perfect confidant with no public title. 

So you prodded that wound one last time. 

“Why not?” You asked, risking it all. 

You would either leave this losing your best friend, the best sex of your life, and the person you loved most in the whole world - or you would leave this as a whole, better person. 

Isaac swallowed, and bowed his head, unable to look you in the eyes. Somehow, at six-foot-one, he looked so terribly small. He might not be able to do this. He might be too broken to live up to it. But you hoped, you prayed that he would - 

“Because I-” He shuddered, verging on tears. And somehow, he was able to get the words out. “Because I’m in love with you.” 

Everything inside of you lit up. More perfect than any orgasm, better than the feeling of his cock inside of you - this was what you had been missing the whole time. 

“And look, I understand that you might have just been playing around,” He continued, his words having a terrible meaning - acknowledging your game in wearing Scott’s numbers, and voicing his insecurities in your relationship, believing that you had been unserious with him because you had never loved him at all. “But it kills me to see you with other guys. I can’t-” 

You stepped forward, using a hand on the side of his jaw to pull him into another kiss. In a moment, he understood the passion, the warmth - something that went far beyond sexual needs. The way you guided him because you knew exactly what he needed. The unspoken connection the two of you always had that now needed those words. 

“Isaac, you should know I love you too.” You told him. “That I’ve been in love with you - since forever.” 

He let out a tense breath of relief. 

“I won’t talk about anyone else like that, or flirt with anyone, or anything along those lines, if that’s what you want.” You assured him. “You are mine, and I’m yours. Okay, pup?” 

He flushed at the nickname, and nodded, and you smiled brightly. 

“I’ll even get you a dog collar with my name on it so that everyone can know you’re mine.” You said - your tone was distinctly joking, but you didn’t miss the way he bit his lip, and the lustful light that grew in his eyes. 

“Shut up.” He laughed, shaking his head. 

(He definitely wouldn’t end up masturbating to thoughts of that later. Definitely not.)

...

Please keep in mind, there will not be a continuation or a 'part 2'. This is a oneshot, meaning that it is a complete story on its own and I do not feel the need to continue it. If you comment asking for a Part 2 or asking for a continuation after I have written this ending message, I consider that to be extremely rude and unkind.

If you are going to comment, please comment about the content of the fic that has been written. I love discussing the characters that I write about with other people in the comments and connecting with fellow fans. I work very hard on my fics and I always appreciate comments, but I do not appreciate when people only comment asking for more rather than wanting to discuss what I have already worked hard on.

Even if you don't comment, I hope you enjoyed, and if you want more from me because you enjoyed this fanfic a lot, you should definitely check out my Teen Wolf Masterlist, which has a lot of similar fics!

Happy Reading,

Sunny ☀️

[noctiva]

I was reading your post about toby being into cockwarming, while reading it I just got an idea of Toby also enjoying the risk of secretly doing it while others are in the room. I love high thoughts

MEOWWWW yea he WOULD do that actually.

toby LOVESSSS risk, like he gets off on that shit. likes fucking you without a condom when you’re not on birth control, likes hooking up places you could easily get caught, totally the type to finger you under the table at a restaurant or some shit like that lol so YES

I’m imagining…. hmm maybe a little proxy get together? house party of sorts? everyone else is milling about, but Toby’s got you on the couch in the corner - sat on his lap, and you’re wearing a skirt that fans out over his thighs, providing the perfect amount of cover.

you can feel him, have been feeling him for awhile now, getting hard beneath you - the bulge in his jeans slotted between your ass cheeks, not so subtly pressing up against you every now and then to get a little more friction. hands on your hips, keeping you right where he wants you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

and it doesn’t take long until you’re letting out a shaky breath, nudging your hips back a little - a taunt, or an invitation? Toby’s falling bait to either.

“F-Feel that, baby?” He’s murmuring right next to your ear, pressing you down a little more - revelling in the way your shoulders tense up a little. “All for you.”

Then he’s pulling your hips down again, a lazy, barely noticeable grind. Not enough to be picked up by a less than keen eye. Just gently nudging his hips up against your ass, barely there movement that still proves to stoke a fire inside you. “You’re drivin’ me n-nuts and you aren’t even d-doing anything.”

“Toby..” You’d breathe out, shooting him a warning look that really doesn’t mean a thing at all. “There’s people.”

“I kn-know that.” Toby snickers, nosing his way into your neck - letting out a soft little grumble when you press down against him just right. “You really think they’d n-notice? I don’t.”

“You’re fucking crazy.” But you’re already feeling that familiar heat inch down to your core. Already thinking about it. Already looking around the room to see if anyone’s keeping an eye on the two of you.

“Duh.” Toby snorts softly, one of his hands stealthily sneaking under the hem of your skirt. Warm, calloused skin pressing against your thigh - mere inches from the source of all this heat. “I won’t make a scene. J-Just want you to sit on it. Can you do that?”

How are you supposed to say no to that? How could you even dream about it, when that sinful request is whispered in your ear - his voice all soft and gravelly, just barely cracking under the weight of his desire.

“We have to be careful-“ And that’s all he needs to hear. Tugging you close so that your back is flush to his chest, he’d slide his hand back - quietly and carefully unbuckling his belt. Keeping himself hidden under the shroud of your body, chuckling under his breath when he gets his cock free and you can’t help but gasp.

“We won’t g-get caught, baby.” He assures you softly, gently tugging your hips up enough to let him swipe the tip between your folds. You’re already wet. So damn perfect for him. “Not if you k-keep still, and quiet.”

One hand on your hip, the other keeping himself lined up as he slowly presses in. Letting out a shuddering breath against your neck, his eyes fluttering as he finally gets what he’d been needing all night. He sinks you down onto him gently, carefully, rubbing soothing circles against your hipbone when he feels you start to tremble.

The fabric of your skirt acted as a curtain, falling over your lap and his - disguising just how close you really were. “L-Look at you.” As he nestles in further, his hips coming flush with yours, his hands pushing you downwards to make sure you’re nicely seated. “Takin’ my cock so well in front of all these p-people.” He’s whispering into your ear, punctuating his words with a soft nip to your earlobe. “Barely even made a p-peep.”

His arms would come to circle around your waist, his face nuzzling into your neck as he leans back further into the couch cushions. Getting nice and comfortable. Letting out a pleased little hum that rumbles from his chest and vibrates against your back. “S-So warm.”

You only let out a shaky hum in response, it’s all you can muster up. You know that the moment you open your mouth, the internal war you’re waging would be make clear. You’re already clenching your teeth to hold back little whimpers from the feeling of his cock throbbing inside you, like it’s trying to coax out movement from your hips. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you p-proper once we’re all alone. Just be good for now, yeah?”

And if there’s one thing you know about Toby, it’s that he always makes good on his promises. So, you nod. You lean back against his chest, let out a shaky little breath, and close your eyes - grounded by the feeling of his hair tickling your skin.

This was going to be a long night.

[wendichester]

Question.. can I request a story of Dean teasing us about liking Sam? Reader and Sam haven’t confessed their feelings for each other yet, but Sam has had a crush on her since like 1st grade? Reader has been a hunter since they were like 19 because a demon killed their parents? Reader kinda has a boyfriend but they got killed too? Reader leaves after deans death in season 3 and appears again in 4 (in 4x22?) with feelings for Sam and they confess and date? If you uncomfortable with it I understand

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. for all that we lost,

pairing. sam winchester x reader genre. friends to lovers fluff

wordcount. 687

notes / warnings. canon-typical mentions of death (reader’s parents + offscreen boyfriend + dean’s death), emotional tension, unresolved longing, dean being a menace (lovingly), pining!sam, hunter!reader, post-hell arc (4x22-ish), soft confession, light cursing, sam being so gone for you it’s almost embarrassing

Dean spots it instantly.

The look Sam gives you.

It’s not new, either—it’s been happening since before either of you could legally drink. Dean just never brought it up.

Mostly because he thought Sam would eventually grow a pair and say something. That, or you’d trip and fall into each other during a salt-and-burn and figure it out like most idiots in love.

But here you are. All these years later. Wounds still fresh, grief still burning, and still not making a move.

Until now.

You walk through the warehouse like a ghost, a little taller than Dean remembers, sharper around the edges. Not surprising, considering what you’ve been through. Your leather jacket’s more beat up than it used to be. You move like someone who knows how to kill without thinking twice.

And yet—your eyes soften the second they find Sam.

Sam stares at you like he’s seeing the stars for the first time.

Dean, of course, does not let this slide.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, arms crossing. “Look who came crawling outta the woodwork.”

You smirk. “Figured the apocalypse was as good a reason as any to check in.”

“Right, right. And it definitely has nothing to do with tall, dark, and brooding over there?”

Sam flushes immediately. “Dean.”

“What?” Dean shrugs. “Just saying. Kinda weird that she goes full ghost after my death, but shows up the minute you get in trouble.”

You roll your eyes. “I didn’t show up for Sam.”

Sam’s face falls.

You tilt your head toward him. “I stayed for him.”

Dean raises a brow. “Oh, that’s so much better.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“You’re in love with my brother.”

You sputter. Sam chokes. Dean just grins.

“I mean, c’mon,” he says, gesturing between you. “You two have been dancing around each other since the damn playground. Sam used to beg Dad to swing by your town on the way to hunts just to check if your light was on.”

“Dean!” Sam hisses, face flaming.

You blink. “You did?”

Sam groans, rubbing his face. “It wasn’t—it wasn’t like that.”

“Dude, you wrote her name in your journal with hearts around it,” Dean says, entirely too pleased. “You kept a picture of her in your wallet until your third year at Stanford.”

Your jaw drops.

Sam won’t meet your eyes.

Dean sighs dramatically. “And still, no one’s made a move. God, it’s like watching paint dry.”

You step forward, eyes fixed on Sam now. “You… liked me?”

Sam laughs, a little bitter. “I loved you.”

The silence after that is heavy. Real.

“I just figured you were never gonna feel the same,” he adds quietly.

“I had a boyfriend, Sam,” you say gently. “And then he was gone. And then you were gone. And then Dean—” Your voice cracks. “I couldn’t handle losing anyone else.”

Dean steps back, gives you the space. For once, he stays quiet.

Sam looks at you. Really looks at you.

“Do you still feel it?” he asks.

You nod before you can stop yourself. “I never stopped.”

He crosses the distance fast.

His hands frame your face like you’re something breakable, like he can’t believe you’re actually here. You lean into the touch like it’s instinct. His forehead rests against yours, and for a second, everything just stills.

“I missed you,” he breathes.

“I missed you more.”

His mouth finds yours soft and certain. No hesitation. No fear.

You melt into it, hands gripping the front of his jacket like it’s the only thing keeping you upright. It’s not rushed. Not hungry. Just real. Something you both needed for far too long.

Dean clears his throat behind you. “Okay, I’m happy for you lovebirds, but if we don’t kill Lilith in the next twenty minutes, nobody’s making it to couple’s therapy.”

You laugh against Sam’s lips. He grins and kisses your forehead.

“We’ll finish this,” he promises, voice steady. “Then we’ll figure out the rest.”

You nod, heart pounding.

You’ve been hunting your whole life. You’ve buried your family. Your boyfriend. Yourself.

But in this moment—in his arms—you feel like maybe, finally, you’ve made it back.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[nikito0x]

Time Travel Crack(-ish?) TGCF AU

Xie Lian accidentally travels to the past, taking over his own younger (child's) body.

He opens his eyes and he is very confused for a hot second, recognizing all his surroundings and wondering what in his husband's lovely name is happening, when, suddenly, he hears familiar bells and light is engulfing him.

Less than five minutes after arriving into the past, he has ascended. As a child.

Luckily he manages to mostly understand his situation and get himself together for long enough to consider his options and what he should do next.

Gods - gawking, whispering - surround him, child-like emotions overtake him and his rational mind comes up with the best solution he can think of on such a short notice.

Xie Lian jumps from Heaven back to Earth.

He will be known as the first child to have ascended. His legend will spread throughout the land. And, while mortal again, his prowess with spiritual energy will be unmatched. But that is for later. After he finishes crying about his missing husband.

When he lands back down to the mortal realm, tears running down his cheeks and a babbled explanation at hand about too many strangers surrounding him, the people and the heavens assume the poor kid didn't really know he ascended to godhood. In his eyes, he heard an earsplitting ringing of a bell, then got struck by what looked to be lightning, and finally got surrounded by a bunch of gawking strangers. Of course the poor kid got scared!

Everyone seemed a little dismayed at the misunderstanding, knowing that now he has jumped down he cannot go back to heaven unless he ascends again. But that's impossible... Right?

In the next years to come the prince would ascend a couple more times... And he would continue jumping down to the mortals... Again and again. But this time with a sack full of excuses.

"Doesn't heaven need their gods to be more educated before they are given this great responsibility?" He would question, three years after his first ascension, at the age of 10.

"My people need me more than heaven needs another god," He would declare, another three years after his second ascension, at the age of 13.

At his fourth ascension at the age of 15, the young prince would just groan in annoyance, turn around and stomp off towards the exit, chiding heaven itself, "I still have work to do, damn it! Leave me alone!"

The people of Xianle make a parade for each time the prince ascends, wondering when he will accept his rightful place. Temples are built in his name. Tales of his character and good deeds spread like wildfire.

With each ascension, Xie Lian's spiritual powers also grew to match. He could hear prayers, though he wasn't officially recognized as a god.

Jun Wu... Jun Wu is flabbergasted to say the least...

Xie Lian, in the meantime, prays for patience from his husband that isn't quite himself yet.

And little Hong Hong-er suddenly wakes from a deep sleep, quite confused, "...Patience??" He goes back to sleep.

What about the gods? What do they think of all this?

One thinks, "The prince's sleeping robes are quite exquisite. I should take note and acquire similar wears for myself!"

Another ponders, "How is the bell still whole if it falls every couple of years with his ascensions? Can a bell be in love with a living being?" The civil god starts researching.

A third one pathetically tries to spread rumors about the prince because he is jealous that this youngling ascended so young when he barely managed it in his 40/50's. He fails miserably.

A fourth one is tired of trying to chase him down so the prince would finally take over his godly duties. How do they miss him every time!?!?

A martial god wants to fight him to test her battle prowess.

Most of the rest? Well, they are deluded they'll manage to convince him to marry them once he ascends again and finally decides to stay.

Hong Hong-er suddenly feels the overwhelming urge to slaughter some gods. What is that number that floats around in his mind? 33? 35? Maybe he's imagining it...

And Xie Lian? He misses his husband. Feng Xin and Mu Qing think he's a good person & friend if a bit eccentric, praying to his non-existent husband and all...

As for Xie Lian's parents... Well. There is an old saying. If you cannot assuage the tide, then follow its current.

In other words. If you can't beat them, join them.

TBC?

[boopiemadz]

ok hi madz we’re back on anon for this one because it’s a request. sorry for sending so many lmao.

but it’s just. travis x reader (whom he’s already friends with) where it’s the initial plane crash and he’s scared because he can’t find them anywhere (kinda like ur “im finna be in the pit” story (i love that one— it’s why I followed you initially, I think), but when they’re just friends!!). angst with fluffy ending because I’ve been torturing myself lately…</3

luv ya! (In the most non-parasocial way possible)

- 🧸🍓

!GrumpyTravis X !SunshineReader (m-list)

About damn time

The plane shakes. You’ve flown before. Field trips, Vacations, Once to Disneyland with your family. You’ve never loved it, but turbulence never made your stomach churn like this.

This is different. This is screaming. The plane screams with metal and fire and something you can't name.

You twist in your seat to check on Natalie, one row behind you, and she nods at you with eyes far too calm. You know it’s not real calm. It’s her version of brave. You don’t even get the chance to ask if she’s okay. You glance to the right.

He sits beside you. Travis.

You’re not really close. Not in the way most people think of it. You're the girl who talks too much, who bounces around like you live on sugar and sleep deprivation, who asked him on the first day of sophomore year if he liked dogs or cats better and didn’t stop talking even when he didn’t answer.

And he never really asked you to keep coming around. But you did. Everywhere Travis went, you found an excuse to sit near him. Not in a stalker way. Just - you liked him. The way he didn’t fake a smile. The way he grumbled but still listened. You made it your mission to crack him open like a cold soda can.

You'd call him names like "Grumpasaurus" and "Travis Eeyore Martinez." You never expected him to laugh, but sometimes, just sometimes, you caught the corner of his mouth twitching. That was enough.

Everyone teased him about it. About you. Asked if he was your boyfriend. If he needed earplugs. He always rolled his eyes. But he never told you to leave.

Somehow, even with you like a beam of light and him the permanent cloud overhead, you fit.

Now, when the plane lurches, when the ceiling cracks open and oxygen masks fall, you scream his name. He looks over. Eyes wide. Terrified. You reach for him. He grabs your wrist.

And then everything breaks.

Travis comes to with blood in his mouth. He can’t breathe. The noise is gone. Everything's too quiet. It makes him sick. He groans as he tries to sit up, the seatbelt cutting against his ribs. The smell of fuel and ash coats everything.

Panic claws into his chest like a wildfire. He yanks the seatbelt free, stumbles into the aisle. Bodies. Screams. Smoke.

He trips over part of a seat. Shouts your name. Again. And again. Nothing. He checks survivors, digs through burnt wreckage with his bare hands. A bruise blossoms across his ribs where something hit him. He doesn't care.

"Where is she?!" he snaps at Natalie, half-crazed. She’s crying, tells him she doesn’t know. Misty hovers behind her, pale and quiet. It’s been fifteen, then twenty minutes. Every second feels like a year.

He searches the main wreckage, the trees, rips through brush. Calls your name over and over until it stops sounding real. Until the voice that comes out of him doesn’t sound like his own.

He thinks of the way you used to plop into the seat beside him in chemistry class, with gum in your mouth and a sparkle in your eye. The way you always said things like, “You’re gonna miss me when I’m not around.” as you pestered him with your unrelenting smirk.

He’d scoffed. He’s not scoffing now.

Then he hears rustling. Sees part of your jacket - torn, caught on a branch.

He finds your shoe first. Then your arm. Then you.

You don’t know how long you’ve been pinned. Maybe ten minutes. Maybe a lifetime. Your ribs burn, your shoulder is crushed beneath twisted metal. You can’t move. You can barely think.

You close your eyes.

It’s autumn. You and Travis are in the parking lot after practice. You’ve convinced him to let you drive him home. You play music too loud and sing off-key. He rolls his eyes and tells you that you’re an idiot, but he doesn’t stop you. When you drop him off, he mumbles, "See you tomorrow." You swear you catch him smiling.

Another memory. In the hallway after school. He’s at his locker, and you’re sitting on the floor, talking about dreams. He pretends not to listen. Then he mutters, "You talk like I care." You grin. "I think maybe you do, why else would you still be standing there stuffing things in and out of your locker for what - 20 minutes?." His face had gone red. You never forgot it.

You whisper, "Trav... please..."

And then-

"I GOT HER!"

The wreckage shifts. Cold air rushes your face. He’s there.

Mud-covered. Scraped up. Bleeding. Wild-eyed.

Travis Martinez falls to his knees. He cradles your face like it’s glass. He’s shaking.

"I thought you were dead," he gasps. "I thought- I couldn’t- "

You reach for him with your good arm. "You looked for me?"

His voice breaks. "I never stopped."

And then he kisses you. No warning. No hesitation. Just grabs your face and kisses you like it’s none of his business. It's messy and desperate and all teeth and tears, and you sob into his mouth because you never thought you'd feel this again. His hands cup your jaw like he’s still afraid you’ll vanish.

You gasp out a shaky laugh. "God, I never thought you’d actually do it." His forehead presses to yours. "Yeah, well. I didn’t either."

"About damn time, Martinez."

"Shut up."

His hand doesn’t leave your cheek. Misty appears behind him, whispering instructions to get you to safety. Everyone gathers around to move the wreckage your trapped under. You scream a little when it lifts. Travis holds you tighter.

He doesn’t leave your side. Not when they clean your wounds. Not when someone tries to carry you - he insists on doing it himself. You don’t protest.

That night, as the fire crackles and the others sleep in stunned silence, you sit bundled in a blanket, propped up against a tree. Travis beside you. Close.

You whisper, "You were scared. Mr. 'I dont feel anything' was scared"

He stiffens. Says nothing.

You turn to him. Your voice is quiet. "All for little old me."

He blinks at you. And then his face twists.

"You don’t get it, do you?" he says, suddenly raw. "I didn’t know what I would do if I didn’t find you. I didn’t care if the whole goddamn plane burned, I just- "

And then he kisses you again.

You smile against his mouth. "Twice in one day? Who are you?"

"Shut up."

"Make me."

He does.

And you let him.

You fall asleep that night with your hand in his. Your body aching. Your heart full. And somewhere in the smoke and ruins of a broken world, something new has started to burn.

---

A/N

First work for this collection! Decided to use this req as the first one :P more to come using this dynamic! Im writing some headcanons!

[liliputkalin]

#fucki t#i saw it around the evening but i thought that if i start tagging i would lose the time i needed to make the final assignments#its almost 2:30 am lets see

sorry for ruining your sleep <3/j hope it was worth it <33

#first of all DUDE SERIOUSLY?? ? ? ? YOU JUST WENT AND DREW TWO PICTURES BC YOU STRUGGLED WITH ONE ?? ? ? IDK HOW IT WORKS BUT YAAAAYYY !!!#CRYING WHAT THE FUCK#No i think the first one is my fav so lets start with the second#okay i looked closer at the second one and now im not so sure which i like more augh well nvm ! looking at these colors. theres probably so#some blending mode business is going on (which is socool theyre so difficult to me personally i can never make those work) all in all it#looks like postcard paper? or some yelowwed paper buut if blue color faded instead of red

Its called gradient maps and they are my best friends <3 I love using them when I cant come up with a pallete,,,, also used posterization a lot, it makes such funky textures!! and the colors that come out are soooo cool,,,

#my main focus is the wd (kelp cant keep track of names) and it has this one blue repeating throughout the whole thing + some purples + peac#+ thiss orangish grey?? it looks really orange in this context i dont even know what it is and Green. you could literally colorpick rainbow#from it . bro managed to sit his ass on it lets pray for his pants <3 DAMn colorwizardry again on his arms goddamn it ! ! AW HES SMILING#like his dreads here . tbh whenever i make a kelp sketch page (oka that happened at least two times) i try drawing him from the back just#just cuz im still not sure. but this looks legit mb ill use it as a ref lol ! using noxs drawing for the front and yours for the back lol#whose oc is that ToT also his hand is so cute here i cant <3 dying from this purpl#also thank you for giving him oversize goddamn hed actually like it a lot. like now thinking about it. in modern au hed need a hoodie#a hoodie 1.5 times bigger than him. and a tshirt with sleeves falling lower than his elbows... . i recently tried to figure out his adult#version design and im shifting my focus now. . . my idea was like sd-scaled almost-knight but no he needs to be a dementor with 14 layers#the wd is smiling <3 i like how you always make them so Long and so roller-coaster shaped theyre literally a крендель also the air perspect#perspective is peak it almost fades into sky color ! now thinking about it wds are perfect dragons for stuff like that cuz theyre so long

I actually wanted to make him come out of a cave or something but it just didnt work :( so flying under stones it was,, I glad I got the back view ok :33

#textre brus . . . OR WAIT NO ITS NOT THIS HATCHING IS MADE BY HAND 0_0 WOAHG.. . . idk something about this mountain thingie is#just so cool. this hatching is just right also i like how wds body ended up significantly lighter than it due to the air perspective. this#this may be the least intuitive composition desidion for me actually wait. so instead of making the mountain rly light you lightened the wd#you go girl this is fire . its like chessboard. does it make sense#anyway a little moment of appreciation for the green on the little mountain closer to camera bc 1. it is awesome 2. looking at your brain#under microscope. IT EVEN CONTINUES UNDERWATER GIRL HOW oh this is made w a texture brush i found it >:)#tho mb its all a texture brush just its so small i dont see </3#im running out of tags so just know im just sitting here zooming in and out

>:3333

#part two what do you mean ive been sitting here for an hour i need to wake at 7 . okey speeding up guys#аа кто такие фиксики большой большой секрет or idk what theyre trying to say w this hand gesture but they both look like theyre having fun

They'r saying hi <333

#no actually three of them look like theyre having fun and zhora looks like he knows hes the most strong and majestic creature on earth#like he took a biiiig breath and is about to make a super powerful wing flap#the way this wing is folded is honestly amazing zhora has never been this powerful and i reallllllly like the lil hatching under his wing#i generally like your hatching a loooot DAMN ON THE BELLY TOO LOOK GUYS#the crown (tubes?? ? idk what to call those i think those are a sort of receptors for chemicals and electricity) being purple here#is amazing. still love the 'thunderdrums are colored like tropical toads' hc ANd still havent researched the toads to choose smth for him#hes a chameleon you dont get it/j also wd is darkgreen + light green for the crown and zhora is orange with rather dark purple for the crow

I think they're supposed to be external gills in canon but i love your take on them as the tubes. they look so neat that way!!

#i just find it sweet. in actual plotline they dont interact a lot i believe i have like 1 little story for them and thats it#but i think aqu would find him cute :) i like their face here theyre joyful for once BUT IM already impatient to go for the first pic bc#bc its just amazing im dying from this compo !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!! and colors !!!!!!!! like its not as experimental as 2 but its ve#very readable. come on you know it is ! everything here serves composition dark lord and cunt#aqu is fucking amazing. and adorable. sorry i liked the backview more but iddkdidk it makes me feel feelings#almost. almsot makes me think about whatever their story is. they unlike kelp dont really have one bc theyre ME but maybe. maybe

👀🤲🤲🤲🤲 story? story of aqu???

#their purple is amazing and the way the vest is shaded w lasso is amazing and the pose is amazing and the sleeves are amazing#waving their stupid little hand <3 kelp what are you saying their ass is Not Listening OH WAIT I GOT IT THEYRE COMMUNICATING THROUGH#HAND GESTURES. I GOT IT I GOT IT !!! kelp yu lk need headphones too bc the second zhora opens his mouth youre having a panic attack#a man who gets flashbacks from loud dragon noises is forced to hang out with thunderdrums and screaming death(deathS >:)))) )#bc the life is unfair. aw his nosee !!!!!!!! hes so cute i cant im dying ! helmet tho. .. . . . OH MY FUCKING GOD WDS FACE.. 0_0#ITS GIVING... . I GENUINELY MEAN IT AS A COMPLIMENT PLS IT MAY SOUND WEIRD BUT ITS GIVING MOBILE GAMES LOADING SCREEN VIBES#LIKE ONE OF THOSE GAMES WHERE THE PLOT AND LORE IS EPIC AH BUT THE GAMEPLAY IS BORING SHIT THEY WOULD KILL FOR THIS FACE#THIS FACE ON THEIR LOADING SCREEN OR EVEN THEIR ICON TBH!!! idk i think its the reflection in the eye that got me#so wow. and the nosehorn is cool too this faceshape is generally peak#a little mwah to their wings theyre very volumous. AND ZHORA'S WINGS OMG THE SPOTS!!! ZHORA'S LEFT WING NHHH#thats so cool. same brush as the sky. the most random brush in the world why does it work so well#its here in the waves too ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh#the waves........................................#the wavessssssssssssssssss.............................................#exciting piece

my reaction to all of that ^

btw the night pic was done on 90% lasso tool <3 i only used a scetter brush for stars <333 went a little insane honestly once i got the understanding for lasso tool...

@tanasha-not-yet

hey. its yo boisssssss!!!

[kwamiwayzz]

Girl please...it's been years already and it's still plaguing my brain

[miraneko19]

Realized this while playing Birushana. Tomomori. You know.

[grinchwrapsupreme]

hate writing something that makes my own heart ache like babe you made this up it's not real it's coming from inside the house

[stereax]

woohoo spiraling out of control right now (what else is new really I've been fucked up and spiraling for weeks now) and trying to figure out reasons not to delete my tumblr and discord and myself along the way

but you know. talking about myself on my blog automatically means I'm attention seeking and fishing for pity right? should just shut up and stick to the news eh, it's all I'm good for :D

anyway if you need me I'll be in the corner reliving the past, coming to terms with reality, and trying to convince myself I'm not the problem despite every indication to the contrary ✌︎︎

[idk-my-aesthetic]

Currently hyperfixating hardcore on the devil is a part timer, and Hanzo Urushihara aka Fallen Demon General Lucifer is very much my emo pathetic failgirl blorbo so I’ve had a bit of a crush on him since I was like 13

Factors in my favor:

- +2 for basic “he’s socially awkward like me and I think we could vibe” and “we have similar interests”

- +1 bc he’s a shut in (in part bc that’s what he prefers in part bc he’s a little bit wanted by the law) and I’m okay with internet dating

- +? he’s so ADHD and he’s been reverse isakied so he doesn’t even know ADHD is a thing, I’m hoping I can get a relationship buff just by informing him and providing resources

Factors against me:

- -1 I’m fat and in cannon there’s some. Hurtful subtext. So I suppose it depends on the writer lmao?

- -??? I might have a bit too much faggotry swag for him ngl

Okay, dearest followers, be honest.

Which one of your fictional crushes do you truly believe that you could pull irl? Realistically. Taking all factors into account. Whether you were in their universe or not, up to you. But be HONEST.

[dacuslucys]

.

[maskedbyghost]

cw: manipulation, possessive reader, suggestive language

You told him you didn’t do casual.

You didn’t make it a big deal. You just said it like you meant it, not trying to sound dramatic or emotional about it. Just honest.

“I don’t do casual,” you said, eyes on your drink. “It always ends up messy, and I’m not built for that.”

Simon leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “That’s alright,” he said eventually. “I’m not looking for anything serious.”

You nodded. No reaction on your face, no shift in tone. “Then we can just be friends.”

He raised an eyebrow like he was trying to figure you out. “You sure?”

You smiled a little. “Yeah. I like hanging out with you. We don’t have to fuck.”

“…Alright,” he said, after a pause. “Friends.”

And that was the start.

Except friends don’t show up to his gym when he’s meeting a girl for a workout date.

Friends don’t slip him a text during his Tinder dinner like,

“you left your hoodie here again. i’m wearing it. smells like you.”

Friends don’t show up to the pub when he’s got plans with someone, all dolled up like you just rolled out of a damn music video, giving his date a once-over and offering a tight smile that says run, babe.

You’d always act surprised when things didn’t work out. “Oh no, she ghosted you? That’s so weird.”

And Simon? He wasn’t completely oblivious. But he was tired, and lonely, and honestly kind of lazy when it came to trying to figure women out, and you were just so easy to be around, so warm and funny and low-maintenance and somehow always around when he needed someone.

So when he started seeing you more than anyone else, it didn’t feel weird. It felt right.

He told himself it was just friendship.

Even when you leaned against him on the couch. Even when you started sleeping over. Even when he started feeling a little sick thinking about you with anyone else.

The night it finally changed, he had just come back from a shit deployment — nothing too dangerous, just long and annoying and cold, and you’d been waiting at his place (with your own key, because somehow that had happened), and you were in his clothes, curled up in his bed with takeout, and when he saw you like that he just… stopped thinking.

“You’re perfect for me,” he said quietly, almost like he was talking to himself.

You blinked, looking up from your phone. “What?”

“I was so fucking stupid,” he muttered, dropping his bag, walking toward you like something magnetic was pulling him in. “I didn’t see it. I don’t know why.”

You didn’t say anything right away. You just looked at him for a second, then smiled, slow and easy, like you’d been waiting for him to finally figure it out, like none of it really surprised you, but you were still happy to hear it out loud.

From there, it was easy.

The relationship happened fast. Slipped into place like it had always been there. He’d gone from “I don’t do serious” to leaving his toothbrush at your place, to falling asleep with his face buried in your neck, to holding your hand in public without even realizing he was doing it.

He was happy. Stupidly happy. The kind that made his friends suspicious and his coworkers tease him. The kind that made you look like the hero of some cozy domestic fantasy where nothing ever goes wrong and love is enough.

It wasn’t one big moment. It was a bunch of little ones that slowly added up until he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Like how you always just showed up when he had plans, how his phone would buzz with a text from you right before he left for a date. Or how you’d casually mention how certain girls “weren’t his type,” even when he never brought them up to you.

And then one day, while you were going through an old playlist together, you said, “God, I remember this song. I used to listen to it every time I thought about you with someone else.” And you didn’t even blink after saying it.

And the more he thinks about it, the more it starts adding up.

You’d played him. You’d baited him.

And now he’s sitting on the couch, watching you walk into the room in one of his old T-shirts, holding a bowl of snacks, looking like home, and he honestly doesn’t know whether to laugh or be pissed off or bend you over the arm of the sofa and remind you who he is.

You plop into his lap like you do it every day (because you do), nestling in like you’re settling into your rightful throne, and he wraps his arms around your waist automatically, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.

“You know what I realized today?” he asks, voice low.

You hum. “What?”

He tilts his head like he’s thinking it through. “We’re together because you manipulated me.”

You pause for like… half a second. Then?

“Yeah,” you say, nonchalant. “And?”

He squints at you, mouth twitching like he can’t decide if he wants to smile or frown. “You sabotaged every girl I tried to hook up with.”

“I did,” you say, and lean forward to grab the remote. “Most of them were trash anyway.”

“You tricked me into thinking you weren’t interested.”

“Mhm.” You don’t even look at him. “Worked, didn’t it?”

There’s this long silence, and then Simon groans and lets his head fall back on the couch dramatically.

“I should be mad,” he mutters.

“You’re not,” you say, smiling down at him like he’s your prize. “You love me.”

“Fuck, woman,” he breathes, eyes locked on yours. “That turns me on.”

You grin, shifting your weight so you’re straddling him properly, hands sliding up his chest slowly until your fingers curl around the back of his neck. You squeeze—not hard, just enough to make him feel it.

“You belong to me,” you whisper against his ear. “Always have.”

He shivers. Actually shivers.

“…Jesus.”

You kiss his jaw, slow and smug. “Say it.”

“…Yours.”

“Good boy.”

And yeah. He is.

PART 2

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@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6