#if you have crooked/chipped teeth do not worry about it

[succubus-nblm]

I found out that apparently my bf has been rejected for his crooked/chipped teeth multiple times and when he was telling me this I was legit like getting Mad. Like idk, he's literally so hot and the nicest fucking person I've ever met in my life and the fact that he had been rejected so many times that he was terrified to show me a pic of him smiling with his mouth open when we met (on a dating app) makes my blood boil. I will tell him at LEAST 10x a day that I love his smile and it's the cutest fucking smile I've ever seen for the rest of our lives. He now sends me pics of him smiling and I max out the reactions on discord from sending every single heart reaction. Fuck people who judge people based on TEETH like that's the dumbest shit. Grrrrr grrrr bite kill grrrr

[luveline]

PLS PLS PLS IM ON MY KNEES what about Remus with a sunshine reader? Like she comes around and is just so chatty and energetic and a much needed change of pace for our brooding quiet boy

Remus takes his earphones out the moment he sees you, but that's his secret alone. You barrel through the atrium to drape yourself over Sirius’ shoulder, meeting his smirk with a genuinely ecstatic smile before looking up at the others. “Hello, my favourite boys. Did you get dinner yet?” 

“No, babe, we were waiting for you. Sit down,” Sirius says. 

You beam and make directly for the chair next to Remus, though you could've sat with Sirius, or a little ways across next to the girls. “Hey,” you say, like he's the only boy you've ever wanted to speak with. James makes a knowing face behind your back. “What are you having?” 

“Remus doesn't believe in canteen food,” James says.  

“No kidding,” you say, still smiling, not even slightly put off by this nor Remus’ passive expression. It's not that he doesn't like you, the opposite, he just has a headache and he hates uni. You make it easier, a light in the dark. “What's not to like? Three quid for a slice of burnt pizza or five for a bowl of metallicy pasta. You couldn't get it any better.” 

“We'll go up to town,” Sirius suggests with a chuckle.  

“Let's order a pizza or something, they'll deliver in here, won't they?” James asks. 

You focus on Remus. “You don't like anything at all? The curry and chips is nice enough.” 

“It's not for me.” 

You nod appreciatively and let your tote bag fall from your shoulder into the crook of your arm. You rifle around and pull out a tupperware full of cut fruit, slices of banana, strawberries, blueberries, what looks like circles of pear. “We can eat this.” 

Remus could say no. He can't decide what's worse, saying yes or no, that is until you open the lid and put it between you both, offering to Sirius and James as well, and suddenly it isn't awkward at all, just something you've done. The pads of your fingers turn pink with strawberry juice as you tell him, “I was gonna put some tangerine in here but I keep getting super sour ones.” 

“They're out of season,” he says, fingers brushing yours as he takes a slice of banana. He swears, it zings. 

“I should know that. You know everything.” You leave a little strawberry print on the back of his hand, unnoticed, and he knows he's fucked when he lets it dry there in the shape of your finger. 

Somewhere between fruit slices and your chatter your chair grows closer to his, your knee pressed to knee without remorse, your elbow a whisper from his as you lean back in your chair. “So, bad day?” you ask. 

“What makes you think that?” 

You tap the space between your brows. He registers the gesture, nearly misunderstands, but eventually he relaxes the set of his brow and his tensed jaw. It's actually a relief. He hadn't realised he was doing it. 

“There,” you say, still smiling softly. “That's better. You'll get a headache, you know?” You sound genuinely worried. “It's not good to be so tense.” 

“Thank you,” he says. James and Sirius order a pizza on speaker across from you both, and, for fear you've missed it, he adds, “Thanks.” 

You needle into him with your elbow gently. “You're welcome. You're handsome when you smile.” 

“Not like you,” he says, “you're brilliant.” 

Your teeth peek out. His chest lifts, you look that happy, and when he smiles back it doesn't feel nearly as taxing as it usually does. 

[darknights04]

Savior Part one

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x oc

Summary: Klaus Mikaelson has been know as ruthless and evil, but he’s always had a soft spot for lost souls. But before he found Marcellus, he found a young girl. What happens when the family takes this girl into their care and watch her grow into a young woman?

Warnings: This story contains themes relating to sexual assault, child abuse, drug/alcohol addiction, and murder. If any of these related themes bother you then do not read further. 

Part Two

♣ 1799 - New Orleans ♣

Don't look back, the girl reminded herself as she ran. She ran as fast as she could through the streets of her new home. About a year ago, her father had died. Her mother was worried that they wouldn't have a stable source of income so she moved them away from their home in France to the French colony of New Orleans. After the king had sent the young and eligible girls years before, her mother thought she would try her luck to find a husband as well.

Not long after their arrival, we found the land to be plagued with nothing but crooks and pirates. The worst kind of people you could imagine. Miraculously, her mother found a husband in the midst of it all. She claimed he was a good man. A righteous man. But the moment they exchanged their vows he turned into a monster. He would come home drunk in the dead of night, often holding a bottle for the road. He would spew out random slurs and insults towards the two of them and if they did anything he disagreed with, they would meet the backside of his hand.

The girl was sick of the way he treated them, so she ran away. Now she was out on the streets of New Orleans by herself. Nowhere to go, no money to her  name, and no one to ask for help. She was cold and scared, and beginning to feel quite hungry. Frankly, she could've planned this a little better. Maybe have grabbed some food on her way out.

"Excuse me!" she heard a man call behind her. She quickly spun around to look at him. He looked to be middle-aged. His hair was covered by a cap and his face was scruffed with an unkempt beard. His clothes were baggy and dirty and there was dirt lining the underside of his fingernails.

"Who are you?" she asked him, skeptically.

"I've been sent out to find you by your family."

"My family?"

"Yes. Your father and your mother have asked me to locate you and bring you home."

"That's not true. You're lying!"

"I am not. They said you were a small girl about the age of 7 with short blonde hair and pale skin."

"You just made up that description by looking at me."

The man scoffed and took another step towards her. She backed away further but he simply strode towards her again, quickly closing the space between them and grabbing her arm. "Would you just do as you're told?" he spat.

The girl began to scream and cry for help, but he put his other hand over her  mouth and almost picked her up by her arm. She started kicking and squirming more, but his grip just tightened as they approached a dark alleyway.

"Now is that any way to treat a young lady?" she heard a smooth voice speak up behind them. The man holding her released the girl from the wall and stopped pulling up her dress, still holding onto her arm tightly.

"This isn't any of your business. Move along you hear?"

"Well, I consider myself close with the leaders of this city and as such I take it to punish the crimes that go unnoticed by the common people. Keep the people here safe."

"No crime has been committed, sir."

"Maybe not but your position with the child you hold to what seems to be against her will and the many tears streaming down her face would say otherwise. Not to mention she can practically smell the arousal on you."

The man holding her  arm looked between the unnamed man and the young girl before pulling out a pistol and shooting him in the ribs. He then dropped it and turned back to her.

"Now where were we, doll?" he smirked. Through his lips, she could see his rotten and chipped teeth that haven't seen any care in years.

As he began to tamper with her dress again, she shut her eyes tight and screamed. As loud as she could. She could almost feel the sound waves radiating out of her mouth.

A few seconds later, she stopped. She took some deep breaths and slowly opened her eyes. The man was gone. She started to look around the area, afraid he was waiting to jump out again when she spotted him. He was stuck on the wall with a beam from a balcony impaling his chest.

The girl gasped as her hands flew to her mouth. She collapsed to the ground shaking. Had she done that?

"Well then, that's a first," the man who was shot said.

"H-how?" she stuttered. "He shot you."

"A simple pistol bullet is not enough to put me down, love," he smirked. "I for one am more interested in how you managed to do that," he said pointing to the man who had been holding me only a minute earlier.

"I did that?" she asked, confirming her theory.

"Well, I can only assume it was you. It certainly wasn't me. You screamed, he flew, now he's dead. But she can tell you're not a witch so just what are you exactly?"

"A witch?" she asked confused.

"Yes, the witches of New Orleans are quite the group of people. They all have their own certain scent to them that you don't have so you're not one of them. But you're not human either..."

"What do you mean I'm not human? I am human. And who are you?"

"Niklaus Mikaelson at your service. And you definitely are not human unless you had a protection spell of some sort on you that allowed you to perform such magic."

"Magic?"

Niklaus looked at the girl confused and took a step towards her. "You truly have no idea what I am talking about, do you?"

She shook her head quickly and he sighed, looking around.

"Where are your parents?"

"Back home. I ran away."

"Well then, how about you come back with me? Meet my family? I promise we won't hurt you."

The girl took a small step back and looked at him warily. "I'm not supposed to go anywhere with strangers."

He looked to the ground and made a hum sound trying to think. "Well what's your name?"

"I- I don't have one. If she do then she don't know what it is."

"How could that be?"

"My mother isn't very affectionate. Whenever she needs to get my attention she usually just uses some demeaning term or simply 'girl.' If she gave me a name then I have no knowledge of what it could be."

"Well, young girls such as yourself need a name. How about Evangeline?"

"Evangeline?" he nodded. "It's pretty."

"Then it's yours, Evangeline. Now we aren't strangers anymore are we?"

"I suppose not."

He offered his elbow out to her and she cautiously took it and began to walk with him back to his home.

♣♣♣

"Where did you run off to this time, Niklaus?" Evangeline heard a man ask when they entered the house. She couldn't place where the voice was coming from.

"Did you bring a snack with you?" A woman asked behind them. The child turned around quickly and saw the woman standing a few feet away with blood trickling down her mouth. "Resorting to children? How desperate have you become?"

"No, sister, I didn't bring home a snack. You know we don't feed from children."

"Then who is she?" the girl sighed, rolling her eyes. Evangeline could tell she was slightly annoyed by her presence.

"Well, Rebekah, this is Evangeline. She's a non-human type creature that she stumbled across in a dark alley."

"I do wish you'd stop saying that," she mumbled. She was human as far as she knew. She had no idea what he was talking about.

"What do you mean non-human?" the other man in the room asked.

"Well, brother, you see there I was all prepared to perform her good deed for the day in saving a poor girl from the grasps of a predator on the streets when I was... interrupted. Next thing I knew she was screaming at him and he flew 100 feet into the air to be impaled on a beam on the roof of one of the buildings surrounding us."

"A witch?" the woman asked.

"No, she doesn't have the stench of one."

"For once, Rebekah, Niklaus is correct. All the witches do have a sort of scent to them. Hers is different... More alluring."

As the two others stood up and took a couple of slow steps towards the girl, her eyes widened and she stepped back a bit, matching their actions.

"I don't understand," she admitted. "What's happening to me? And who are you?"

"How rude of me," Niklaus smiled. "Evangeline, meet Elijah and Rebekah Mikaelson. My siblings."

"You misunderstand me. I could gather your names from the previous conversation but what she mean to ask is what are you? You mention humans like a lesser race and witches as opposers. So if you're neither of the two then what exactly are you?"

"We're vampires, darling," Rebekah smiled. "The original vampires, actually. First of our kind."

"Don't be frightened, love," Niklaus almost begged when she took another cautious step back. "You there!" he called to a servant passing by. They quickly stopped and came back in. "How about you show our guest to an empty room so she may get some rest. We will continue this conversation in the morning."

The girl wasn't in any place to argue so she simply followed close behind the servant as she walked away.

"Can we keep her, Elijah?" she heard Rebekah beg as she walked down the opposite corridor.

[expertveneersla]

Veneers Los Angeles To Modify And Rejuvenate The Smile

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[witheringdove]

wondering how you ask for help when you hate yourself through and through. its not even, bad per say, i can live day by day but i don't like who i am or what i do or what i say or anything, really. other people need help more than me. there are people who sh. who want to die. i cant lie and say the thoughts dont plague me like a goddamn shadow, but ive always been too chickenshit to try.

funnily enough, i was not feeling great the other day and sat in the shower to cry. pathetic, i know. i felt like shit doing it. there's a steaknife that rests on the rim of the bathtub. the tip was chipped off somehow. the serrated edge was particularly useful for dragging hair from the drain. i left it there because it was too filthy to bring back into the kitchen. contaminated by the gunk between the curled fibers of my own hair.

i held it. while the water ran down by back. tears stinging in the crook of my eyes. my wrists are pale, unblemished. suited for a life where i wasn't made to suffer physically. privileged, soft hands.

the teeth of the knife rested on my wrists before i could catch up with reality.

did you know I work with knives? i cook often. i butcher meat, slice vegetables and sharpen my knives with incredible care. of course, sometimes i accidentally get cut. it's only natural.

this is to say,

i know how easy it could have been

the teeth are meant to chew through flesh. the ridges make for an efficient way to slice through tough, raw pieces of steak.

you have to saw back and forth. dont put your weight behind the knife, let the blade do the work. that's what it was made to do.

the teeth pressed on the skin.

...

of course i was too chickenshit to do anything.

heart in my throat, i was terrified. it almost felt like i wasnt the one doing this. that someone elses soft, pallid hands were wrapped around the black hilt. that i was a victim in all this; that i wasn't the one to blame.

then i dried myself.

ate dinner.

went to bed.

because nothing happened. hovering at the edge of cliff without leaping off of it hardly counts as death by falling, doesnt it?

still.

it haunts me.

i know i hate myself. i live with that knowledge in my chest. i swallow it everytime im sat down and my family looks at me with pity in their eyes-- my eyes. i know i should say something. see someone.

but the thing about this -- this weight -- is that its never serious enough to waste everyone's time. it'll sit on my shoulders until i can no longer bear it, then i break, fall down, but it clings to my skin, it sits in my chest, it stares at me through the mirror, it never leaves me. but still, ive never officially done anything.

i dont know. i just... dont know.

sometimes it feels like im trapped. because i cant say this to anyone i know in real life. forget my family, my friends -- either they dont believe me or try to get me to see someone who'll only tell me that its not that serious, because in truth, it probably isn't. and then ill just be complaining. then ill drive people away because i cant see myself in a good light. if i try something, then ill only make them worry. ill cause them undue stress and hate myself even more.

there have been times my cover has slipped -- once, maybe twice. someone i love will stop me and ask if im okay. how do i tell them i hate myself? how do i voice any of this? how do i break my trust with them, stress them out, make them worried or worse, make them doubt me? i always answer in the same way because it just too much. i always freeze up. i always deny. i always run from it. i cant... its like i cant admit it outloud. i just write in these stupid fucking posts because there's no where else for these thoughts to go. no one to listen. no one to give a shit.

its the loneliest i ever feel.

this, and when i sit at the floor of my bathtub, curtain of hot water falling over me, knife in hand.

[westwooddental]

Are Veneers Right for You? 5 Signs You Should Consider Them

In a world where appearances matter more than ever, a dazzling smile can make all the difference. It's what people notice first about you, and it speaks volumes without saying a word. But what if your smile isn't saying what you want it to? If you find yourself hiding your teeth or feeling self-conscious about them, veneers might be the solution you've been searching for. Here are five signs that veneers could be the key to unlocking your most confident smile yet.

Sign 1: You're Self-Conscious About Your Teeth

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Sign 2: You Have Stained or Discolored Teeth

Years of coffee, tea, red wine, and other staining foods and beverages can leave your teeth looking dull and discolored. While regular cleanings can help, some stains penetrate deeper into the enamel, making them difficult to remove with traditional whitening methods. Veneers provide a long-lasting solution to stubborn discoloration, giving you a bright, radiant smile that exudes confidence.

Sign 3: You Have Chipped or Cracked Teeth

Accidents happen, and unfortunately, your teeth aren't immune to damage. Whether it's a small chip or a more significant crack, damaged teeth can detract from your smile's beauty and compromise your oral health. Veneers can effectively conceal chips, cracks, and other minor imperfections, restoring the natural appearance of your teeth and enhancing their strength and durability.

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Remember, your smile is an investment in yourself, so don't hesitate to explore your options and take the first step toward a brighter, more confident you!

[removableveneersblog]

How Removable Veneers Can Instantly Transform Your Smile

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Your smile is one of the first things people notice about you, and it can have a profound impact on how you're perceived by others. A bright, confident smile can convey warmth, approachability, and self-assurance, while a smile marred by dental imperfections can often leave a negative impression. By instantly transforming your smile with removable veneers, you can experience a newfound sense of confidence in your personal and professional life.

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Removable veneers are designed to address a variety of dental concerns, including:

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The Convenience of Removable Veneers

One of the most significant advantages of removable veneers is the unparalleled convenience and flexibility they offer. Unlike traditional veneers that are permanently bonded to your teeth, removable veneers can be easily taken out for eating, drinking, and oral hygiene routines.

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[superblycaffeinated]

Find the list of March Prompts I’m participating in here - I hope you join in! I love seeing all the different stories people come up with from the same words  This is a very loose depiction of righteousness - I went with the definition: "Righteousness is a feeling or way of life that is all about doing the right thing." This contains spoilers for the fanfiction series The Listen Series by @averagejoesolomon

Morgan Goode / Luke Collins

Luke Collins is infuriating was not a new thought for my brain to stumble over, but a rare occurrence these days. 

Kind? Yes. Attentive? You bet. Patient? Undeniably. Slight tendency to hover and helicopter on occasion? Annoyingly so lately. 

But infuriating? I hadn’t needed to use that word until right now. 

“Morgan, no.”

No. 

No is not really a term in my vocabulary, it never has been, and if it’s told to me, it’s not something I listen to often. Especially when accompanied with my name like that, like he’s scolding, like he can’t believe I’d be so stupid like-

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Nope,” I popped the ‘p’ as I continued to tape my hands. 

Sometimes, I was still a little shocked to look down and see the scars, flexing a stiff hand and watching how they caught the light on more than a few occasions. To suddenly tune in to how different my two legs felt from one another. 

I wouldn’t say I admired my scars, or found beauty in them usually (unless Luke was kissing them and whispering things he loved about me against my skin, but that’s a different story). But when I stretched out my arms and saw the swirling pattern extend up both forearms, I did draw some sort of courage from them, I think.

Not fueled by spite, or anger, or hate, though those were easy to fall into from time to time - easier not to with each passing day - but from peace, from clarity, from trusting my gut that I had done the right thing two years ago. 

“I’m not doing this,” Luke exhaled in a tone riddled with finality, one with zero room for argument. 

It was a nicely delivered command, strong, confident, and anybody in their right mind would have heard it, looked at the strong set of his jaw, his squared off shoulders, his arms crossed over his chest, and accepted defeat and walked away. 

But see, I’m not normally in my “right” mind, and I knew what others didn’t - that when it comes to me and Luke Collins, there was always room for an argument. 

“Oh,” I laughed, squinting up at him in the harsh noon light, “I get it. You’re afraid to lose to a girl.”

Luke’s temple pulsed, that familiar crease furrowing his forehead as he tried to continue to be three steps ahead, to figure out where I was planning to take this. 

A horse snorted in the pasture to our left, a chip crunched between teeth up on the porch to our right, a breeze carried a faint melody in the air, and Luke’s heartbeat thudded calmly despite the tension he carried in his body. 

“When have I ever been afraid to lose to a girl, Morgan?” Luke gritted out, taking the bait easily, taking a step closer. 

“Can think of at least one time you were worried about losing to a whole team of them,” I cracked my neck as I cocked an eyebrow at him, “Broke your nose about it.”

He huffed a breath out of that crooked nose as he narrowed his eyes at me in an old, familiar, challenging way. 

We weren’t the same kids who fought because we had to. 

I had new pain and trauma, new experience, new weaknesses and strengths. I had new patience and drive and passion for the work I was born to do. He had scruff on his jaw, and new muscles in his arms, new scars, new stories, a new (and entirely too attractive) confidence and determination at work, new, bold and unapologetic public displays of affection towards me.  

But apparently also a newfound moral dilemma about fighting me. 

In the two years since I’d woken up in that overnight room in the hospital wing at Gallagher, Luke Collins had refused to throw a punch my way. 

I hadn’t noticed at first, because I was so focused on learning how my new body would and could work. I was determined and hellbent on getting better, one step at a time. So caught up in the feeling of finally being able to hit and kick and fight, that I hadn’t noticed that every time we sparred, Luke was back to his tried and true defensive approach when it came to me. 

“It’s okay, Collins,” I let his last name hang in the space between us, poking, prodding, baiting, “Should have just realized you were a chicken.”

He rolled his eyes, and scoffed out a cold laugh, “I’m not a chicken.”

Too easy. 

“Asking for a fight,” I pointed to myself, then him as I called out louder, “Doesn’t want to fight me. If it acts like a chicken, and sounds like a chicken…” I clucked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. Twitters from our audience had a smirk pulling at my lips. 

Luke took another step towards me, shaking his head once, then twice. Slow and determined, just like his breath. 

“Nice try, I’m not five years old Goode.”

I threw my arm out towards the porch, my voice growing louder, “Charlotte has hit me. Several times.”

“Morgan, I’m not-”

“Jasons, has hit me, Jasons!” I exclaimed, excitement pulsed through me as his foot shifted, as his arm twitched. 

“Stop-”

“My dad has hit me!”

Our chests heaved in sync, in anticipation as his gaze dotted over my face. I heard his swallow, I heard his inhale, I heard the gravel beneath his toe, and I heard the lack of breath from everyone watching. 

“I know you have this moral code, some righteous compass you have to follow, but I need you to punch me. And I need you to fucking mean it.”

“Morgan,” his voice came out strained, like he was fighting every instinct in his body, “Stop. Talking.”

A familiar heat licked up my spine, it pricked at something on the back of my neck, it sent electric charges down my arms and into my fingertips. 

For the first time in a long time, I felt excited about punching something. Someone. 

I exhaled, I lifted my jaw in defiance, and I let a breath carry the dare past my lips. 

“Make me.”

The sound of my hand catching his fist before it hit my jaw was only slightly muffled by the cheering and whistling from our right. 

And if I ended up with a punch to the gut because I was too distracted by Luke’s smile at the sound of Scout Jasons yelling at my brother that he owed him twenty bucks, then so be it. 

[erabundus]

@ruinlost &&. said... “  you don’t have to talk, we can just sit together.  ” -farrow!

farrow  knows  him  better  than  most  either  care  or  are  ALLOWED  to  be.  it  is  for  precisely  that  reason  the  wanderer  suspects  he  makes  the  offer  out  of  consideration  for  his  personal  preferences.  he  feels  no  discomfort  sitting  in  silence  —  watching  the  world  go  by,  both  figuratively  and  literally.  (  if  only  through  the  ceaseless  march  of  time.  )  it  has  a  faint  smile  pulling  at  the  corner  of  his  mouth  —  only  one,  rendering  the  expression  a  crooked  and  imperfect  thing,  though  arguably  all  the  more  GENUINE  for  it.   ❝  don't  worry  about  it.  ❞   he's  quick  to  reassure,  turning  away  to  stare  back  at  the  horizon.  he  isn't  necessarily  looking  at  it  so  much  as  he  is  THROUGH  IT  —  sharp eyes  gone  soft  and  unfocused  as  he  tries  to  envision  what  lies  beyond. it's a bit terrifying. a bit humbling.   ❝  if  you  have  something  to  say,  then  say  it ...  if  you  don't,  that's  fine  too.  ❞

the  longer  he  stares  at  the  sky,  the  more  SOUR  he  feels.  dropping  his  gaze  to  the  ground,  the  wanderer  instead  finds  himself  drawn  to  the  flowers  around  them.  they're  tiny  things  —  white,  small,  fragile  as  flakes  of  fallen  snow.  it's  surprising  how  they've  managed  to  survive  this  long,  though  he  can  only  assume  their  days  are  NUMBERED.  the  winter  is  harsh  and  indiscriminate.

❝  ...  ❞  he  reaches  out,  ghosting  tentative  fingers  over  a  few  tiny  petals.  one  snaps  and  flutters  to  the  ground;  ren  bites  back  a  sigh.  (  how  predictable.  )  there's  a  question  weighing  heavy  on  his  tongue  —  steeped  in  nostalgia,  inspired  by  the  sight.  it's  one  he  finds  himself  mulling  over  quite  often,  particularly  during  these  quiet  moments  when  it's  only  him  and  farrow.  time  and  time  again,  the  wanderer  crushes  it  down  —  for  it  would  be  confusing  at  best  and  horribly  selfish  at  worst.  even  if  he  miraculously  received  the  answer  that  he  wanted,  nothing  about  it  would  actually  make  either  of  them  TRULY  HAPPY.  yet  the  temptation  to  speak  still  eats  away  at  him,  and  no  doubt  will  continue  to  do  so  until  his  desire  to  resist  is  chipped  away  like  a  piece  of  wood  amid  a  colony  of  GNAWING  TERMITES.  perhaps  that  day  will  be  today.  perhaps  it  wouldn't  be  a  crime  to  hint  at  it  —  just  the  tiniest  bit.

❝  do  you ...  ❞  words  start  and  stop.  his  jaw  clenches  hard  enough  that  his  teeth  ACHE  from  the  pressure;  it  takes  no  small  amount  of  effort  to  keep  the  wanderer's  internal  struggle  from  showing  clear  across  his  traitorously  expressive  face  —  and  even  then,  it's  dubious  whether  he's  actually  SUCCESSFUL.  ❝  ...  do  you  ever  feel  as  if  you're  forgetting  something?  ❞ he hopes so badly the question comes off as deceptively innocent as he wants it to be.

MISC SENTENCE STARTERS

[expertveneerschicago]

Veneers Chicago – Wear It To Conceal Any Dental Imperfection

Do you want the most attractive and healthy teeth? No matter who you are and what age you are enjoying, with the right dentist healthy and attractive teeth can easily get attained. There are so many people suffering from dental issues, and if you are one of them, the best decision will be not to ignore the same. Dental issues might look minor at front, but when the time passes, it will increase and become worst. That is why immediate treatment is necessary that will help you in getting brightening white, the most attractive and impressive teeth. What if your teeth have gaps, they are missing, broken and crooked? Don’t worry as the best solution is here that will help your teeth to become strong, healthy and attractive. For that, the best solution is dental veneers, which are super cool and effective. Just go on with the best Veneers Chicago clinic and you will find ultimate solution for your teeth. Those who don’t know about the dental veneers, they must know that veneers are custom-made shells that fit over the front surfaces of the teeth. Once they are done, they can hide all flaws via which you are suffering. They can easily hide any kind of teeth- pale teeth, cracked and chipped teeth, along with the teeth with any kind of cosmetic imperfections. You better know that there is nothing better than veneers, which are easy to use and hide all flaws in no time. This is one of the most common, but effective cosmetic dentistry treatments one can go with. It must be noted that there are several types of veneers available, but going up with someone that your dentists recommend you will meet all your specific goals. It doesn’t matter what kind of flaws your teeth may have, wearing the best veneers will easily help you in concealing all those flaws. By wearing the same, you can easily go outside, and nobody will know that you are hiding something. They look so real and natural and people will love your smiling face with such bright teeth. When you are looking for veneers, make sure to connect with one of the best dentists. It is necessary to get correct veneers as well as the technicians over there only use high-quality dental materials, like tooth-colored composite or porcelain. With this, you can expect so natural, high quality and durable veneers will be there to serve you for years. It must be noted that dental veneers are cosmetic in nature and they are so amazing to hide any kind of imperfections, including chips, cracks, gaps, stains, tooth discoloration and more. Are you concerned about Veneers Cost Chicago? Well, it won’t be much than your valuable smile. Just connect with the suggested source and it will let you know how much it will cost, how veneers work and other important details.

Veneers will cover the front surfaces of your teeth to enhance your smile and you will love wearing the same always without any difficulty. Searching for the best solutions on Veneers Cost Chicago can be easier for you, if you check up all the posts and reference website provided by the author. Must follow and grab great ideas.

[dentistrynearme]

Can Anyone Get Dental Veneers?

Most people have an Instagram account or other social Media in this modern and advanced society. We are witnessing people with attractive smiles and white teeth in different magazines and media. Have you ever thought about having whiter teeth or a more beautiful smile? Everyone will want to be more attractive while smiling. But how can we have a perfect smile with snowy teeth? Dental veneers are the best choice for having white teeth as a pear. According to the experts at Dentistry Near Me there are other methods, but veneers are one of the most affordable and practical treatments available in cosmetic dentistry services. Do you want more than the color and shape of your teeth? Let's change your smile positively for the near-celebrity or party. Don’t doubt; every one with white teeth and an attractive smile has used one of the cosmetic dentistry services to look better. So you can be one of those people too. Stay with us to get more information about this cosmetic dentistry service.

Who Is a Good Candidate to Get Dental Veneers? 

Are you looking for a dental method to change your smile? There are different methods to have whiter teeth and a more beautiful smile, but dental veneers are good choices for most people. 

Most of us can try this dental treatment for a more attractive smile. Note that not everyone can be a good and acceptable candidate for veneers. 

Before choosing veneers as your cosmetic dentistry service, there are some critical points to consider. Although some people are not good candidates for veneers, most seek this dental treatment. 

Veneers help you to have your demanded dental appearance. You also can change the shape, size, and color of your teeth with the help of veneers. This dental treatment is just like your natural teeth. 

You can be a good candidate for veneers if you have a healthy jawbone, well-conditioned gum, and a high level of oral and dental health. These features will show how acceptable you are for veneer treatment. 

Am I a Good Candidate for Dental Veneers? 

It is an excellent time to change your dental appearance with the help of veneers. You can be a good candidate if you don’t have any below dental and oral issues: 

Chipped teeth

Cracked teeth

Crooked teeth

Broken teeth

Damaged teeth

Lost teeth

Lost dental fillings  

Veneers are the best way to solve your dental issues with misaligned teeth. Veneers can remove food stains from the front surface of your teeth. Also, veneers are good ways to restore yellow and dark-colored teeth.

Find an excellent cosmetic dentistry service because veneers can be your best method. It is the best time to promote your narrow smile and discolored teeth.

Don’t worry about dental space issues; your cosmetic dentist will solve them and start the veneer process.

Veneers are also good responses to crowded teeth. This method can easily cover any misshapen and discolored teeth at an affordable price. It also is a good choice for those who have bite problems. Choose veneers and enjoy your beautiful smile.

[smilepoint]

Most Popular Cosmetic Dentistry Services

You will have stained teeth over time due to drinking, eating, smoking, or other habits. Coffee, black tea, red wine, or berries will change the color of your teeth. Therefore you will need a professional dental treatment to whiten your teeth and make them more beautiful. In addition, you may be unsatisfied with the shape of your teeth too. So it is good to try and find a professional and well-experienced cosmetic dentist to change your teeth's shape and color dramatically. As an experienced dentist at Smile Point Dental says, these cosmetic dentists can brighten, whiten and shape your teeth safely. It is an excellent time to have a more beautiful and unique smile. Let's change your teeth's color or shape with the help of one of these available dentists near your location. Some of these dental services can be continued at home by yourself. What is your dental issue, and which cosmetic dental services do you need?

 Examples of Cosmetic Dentistry's Services 

Do you prefer to have light, bright and white teeth? You need to try a teeth whitening service that is not too hard or expensive. Different teeth whitening processes exist, such as whitening gel or whitening laser.

In addition, you need to keep on the whitening process at your home after the dentist has finished the whitening process. You only need an hour to whiten your teeth. Don’t forget to continue the whitening process at your home for a couple of weeks.  

Teeth whitening is not the only cosmetic dental service. You can ask your cosmetic dentist to perform different dental services related to your teeth's shape, color, and size. We will explain some of these cosmetic dental services.  

  Treating Gum Issues 

Do you want to improve your gum shape? Unfortunately, there is someone born with additional gum soft tissue. This oral issue is hard to tolerate, but you can get rid of your excess soft gum tissue with the help of a cosmetic dental doctor. 

The excess tissue of your gum makes your smile abnormal and unbalanced. Let a cosmetic dental doctor visit you to avoid the gummy smile.

 This process is called gum contouring. Dentists will remove the additional soft tissue of your gum and reshape your gum. 

   Treating Teeth 

Teeth treatment is another dental process that reshapes and recolors your teeth. Don’t worry about your poorly shaped or discolored teeth. Cosmetic dental doctors can easily change your teeth' shape, size, and color. 

You can get rid of your stained dental enamel and enjoy your beautiful smile after arranging a visit time with a cosmetic dental doctor. Standard and natural enamel are good, but stained teeth will make your smile unattractive. 

Locating Dental Veneers 

One of the most famous examples of cosmetic dental services is locating dental veneers. They will quickly alter the form of your teeth by finding dental veneers on the front surface of your teeth. 

Dental veneers are like dental bonding and remove different appearance flaws. 

It is an excellent time to say goodbye to your chipped, cracked, crooked, discolored, and misaligned teeth. Cosmetic dental doctors will make your smile more beautiful with the help of dental veneers. 

[ericgroenevelddds]

How Do Veneers and Invisalign Which Is Better for You?

You may be debating between Invisalign and veneers to enhance your smile's visual appeal. Both procedures can improve your teeth's appearance, but important distinctions must be remembered when determining whether one is right for you. In this piece, we'll compare and contrast Invisalign and veneers to help you decide best.

When Compared to Veneers, How Do Invisalign Fare?

Invisalign uses a series of transparent, custom-made aligners to move teeth into the ideal position progressively. The aligners may be taken out and swapped out for new ones around once every two weeks.

Invisalign is an excellent choice for those who need to straighten their teeth but don't want metal braces. It includes those with spacing and bite concerns.

Conversely, veneers are ultra-thin porcelain or composite resin shells fabricated to cover the front of a patient's teeth. Veneers may cover flaws, including discoloration, chips, and uneven spacing between teeth. They are also effective in eliminating misalignment in one's smile.

Do you have any particular dental worries?

Invisalign in Richmond MI, is the best choice if you have crooked or crowded teeth, gaps between teeth, or bite misalignment. Veneers may cover flaws, including discoloration, chips, and unevenness in teeth.

Is it vital for you to have privacy throughout your treatment? Veneers are noticeable but may substantially enhance the look of teeth, whereas Invisalign aligners are almost undetectable.

What is your commitment level to your treatment?

Invisalign needs patients to wear their aligners for at least 22 hours each day, while veneers need to be checked and maintained by a dentist regularly to guarantee they endure for years.

How much money do you have to work with?

Although veneers may cost more than Invisalign, specific dental plans may pay for them if the patient has a severe tooth problem.

Any final choice between Invisalign and veneers should be made with a dentist who can assess your unique situation and advise you on the best course of action.

Using both medicines in certain patients may be necessary to get the best outcomes. For instance, if you have crooked and discolored teeth, you may get veneers to cover the discoloration and give your teeth a more natural appearance using Invisalign.

Conclusion

Veneers in Richmond are excellent options for cosmetic dentistry that may significantly improve the visual appeal of your teeth and smile.

Before making a final decision, you should consider your unique dental issues, desired outcomes, and the advantages and disadvantages of both treatments. A dentist can help you decide what treatment is best for your teeth and help you get the grin you've always wanted.

For more details about Tooth Whitening Treatment Near Me in Richmond MI please visit our website: ericgroenevelddds.com

[expertveneersla]

Los Angeles Veneers For Fixing Dental Issues

Do you dream to have a perfect smile? Now, it is very much possible and you must go for it. Connect to the suggested dental care center in Veneers, and you will find dazzling white and attractive smile.

Upgrading your smile is highly necessary if it is affecting your day to day life. No matter who you are and with what kind of dental issues you are suffering from, connecting to the best dental care means you will get huge success. So, if you really want the best smile, the simplest way is to put on the veneers.

Upgrade Your Smile With Veneers Nothing is better than porcelain veneers and if you are serious for obtaining a perfect smile, this is the simplest way. When you think about Los Angeles Veneers, you must connect to the suggested dental care center and all flaws will go away. Porcelain veneers are basically the thin shells made up of porcelain material that fit neatly over the teeth. This way, all the flaws will get hid and people will see only your dazzling white and properly arranged teeth.

Porcelain veneers are the best and super powerful in changing the shape, alignment and shade of the teeth. This is something the best as they offer an instant smile makeover without confronting any painful treatment or long hours waiting. For quick and ultimate smile makeover, veneers are the obvious choice, which can deliver the best results. Your journey to a perfect smile will surely be the best one and you can’t deny it at all. If you decide to go ahead with a veneer restoration, connect to the suggested center and it will invite you to the practice to prepare your teeth.

Get Natural And The Most Attractive Smile So, if you find your teeth are chipped, crooked, misaligned, and look horrible, not to worry as Porcelain Veneers Los Angeles clinic can help you in no time. This device will hide all your teeth flaws and ensure to give you the most enchanting smile. This smile won’t only make you feel good, but you will also look attractive and get all confidence that you want to confront people. If you want, the professionals can also help you in permanently cement the veneer in place over your natural teeth for an instant and long-term makeover.

It must be noted that only veneers are ideal for restorations and transformations without waiting for so long, hence opt this process to eliminate all your dental issues. This cosmetic dentistry is something will take your look and feel to the next level that will help you to attain your goals. So if you want to see the results fast, veneers could offer the ideal restoration exactly as you want. Veneers can fix anything from alignment problems to the discolouration, chipped, broken and missing teeth issues. So, try it out and get brighten smile once again.

Searching for the best solutions on Los Angeles Veneers can be easier for you, if you check up all the posts and reference website provided by the author. Must follow and grab great ideas.

[wri0thesley]

I'd love to request more Naoya smut with him and a now pregnant!reader from that breeding fic because him busting a nut thinking about how good they'll look knocked up really made me feel some type of way!!! maybe reader-chan will even finally get a smooch from this HORRIBLE man. If you are not into doing continuations on requests no worries tho and thank you for your incredible writing as always, Nat!

reader can have a little smooch. as a treat. don’t let naoya hear you say he’s not a good husband <3

Expecting - Naoya x Fem!Reader (3.3k)

Both of you got what you wanted. Naoya got more than he bargained for. sequel to covet.

warnings: not sfw, minors dni! afab reader, fem pronouns. pregnancy sex, light lactation, misogyny, power imbalance, breeding kink, mentions of alcohol, naoya perhaps having some Feelings???.

[comments/reblogs are much appreciated! // my jjk masterlist]

Naoya catches you every so often for the next month and you easily roll onto your back for him, helpless under the brush of his fingers and the snap of his hips. He smirks at you when he passes you in the corridor, but you have nothing to show for all of the times you’ve warmed his bed – yet.

When you do, though – when a month and a half passes, and you are beginning to feel sick in a morning, and your monthly bleed has still not made itself known – you go to Naoya with deference in your eye. Once a servant, always a servant – and you are not stupid. You know that what you carry inside you is a bargaining chip.

Naoya wants someone who will submit, and you want an end to the life of drudgery and roughened hands and back-breaking work, of being ignored or reviled or mocked for having the misfortune to not be born with Zenin as a surname. Naoya takes you to a private, discreet physician with an iron grip on your arm and his light eyes sharp.

It’s amazing, how quickly a man like Naoya Zenin can set things in motion – when it��s not simply confirmed that you’re carrying his child, but that you’re carrying his son. His heir.

It’s so easy for him.

Suddenly you are no longer a maid, but Naoya’s betrothed – and though the other members of the household look at you in disgust, knowing that you spread your legs for the title, none of them dare risk Naoya’s ire by being outright rude to you. He and his family spin it like silk; not that Naoya took advantage of a servant, but that you have been part of some grand, beautiful Cinderella story – that Naoya is in love with you.

(It’s probably for the better that the Zenins prefer servants who can see cursed spirits, at the very least – if you had not had any kind of talent for jujutsu, who knows what would have happened to you? Naoya would not have risked his son being born utterly ordinary).

And then you are Naoya’s wife. It wouldn’t do, of course, for the future head of the family to have his heir and son born out of wedlock, even if society have progressed enough that you falling pregnant with said son was before the betrothal. The latter is a disgrace; the former is a laugh over a cup of sake in the dark, a toast to Naoya’s virility, a wink-wink-nudge-nudge at how lucky Naoya is to have found someone who gives themselves up so utterly and completely and easily, including their virtue--

You know that Naoya is not in love with you. You are fairly certain that the only thing Naoya loves is his name, and the power imbued therein. Still. You share a bed with him, and you’re given silken kimonos and pretty hair ornaments and anything that you ask for, and you are . . .

Respected is not quite the right word. Not for a woman who is Naoya’s. Certainly, he does not respect you.

But you are not reviled, not ignored, not beholden to the demands of your betters. Now, you are one of the betters, and if your fellow servants are frustrated that they have to bow to you in deference, they do not dare show it knowing that if you asked Naoya, he would have them punished for the transgression.

You had perhaps thought that once you were bearing his child, Naoya would lose interest in you. You know as well as anyone that nobody would bat an eyelid at Naoya seeking his pleasure somewhere else; it’s almost expected of him to have a mistress, a concubine, to go and sow his wild oats just in case the one he has placed inside of you does not yield the crop expected--

But he doesn’t.

Naoya hates you out of his sight. He is always touching you; hands sliding over your hips, cupping where your bump has become soft and round and pronounced, snapping servants to attention if he thinks you look tired or wan or pale. You accompany him almost everywhere. He looks up from speaking to his father to seek you out, as if to reassure himself that you are still there – and some tension in his shoulders seems to drain away.

He is still Naoya, of course.

You are still swiftly reprimanded by him if you speak out of turn, he still gets servants to do anything for you so he doesn’t have to do it himself, you still walk three steps behind him with your head bowed unless he bids you to do something else – but as time goes on, and your hips widen and your stomach grows and you feel the baby kick, something in him softens.

And something else hardens.

His desire on your flesh, on your form, does not wane. You grow used to the feeling of tangled silken bedsheets below you, of Naoya’s handsome face above you, of the groan and the whine as he spills himself inside of you for the third time that night. And you would be lying if you said you didn’t like it.

That initial thrill, of being wanted by someone like Naoya, doesn’t fade at all, even though you too are now bowed to in the corridors and the people below you have to jump at your command. And Naoya is not cruel for no reason. Despite the arrogance in his tone, the condescension that drips off of his slow, drawling words, the particular way he has of raising one eyebrow and letting his gaze crawl over you – you have come to enjoy being his.

You did not want equality, after all. You knew your place.

You just wanted better – and Naoya has provided you that in spades.

He’s got his arms spread out over the pillows, his shoulders strong, his eyes hungry as he watches you strip off the kimono you have been wearing today. Your wardrobe now is the height of luxury; all beautiful embroidery, delicate colours, fabrics that cost more than your former monthly salary. Kimono are not made to cling to your body; though people can tell that you are pregnant, it does not over-emphasise your hips or the newly swollen, heavy breast, or the curve of your stomach. Those are things that Naoya never tires of seeing, as the fabric pools around your ankles and the hadajuban is discarded and so are your underwear, and you stand before him utterly bare and unmistakably carrying his child.

“Stay there,” he says, “let me look at you.”

You are a good, well-trained, obedient thing. You stand there as Naoya’s gaze roves over you, straying over and over again to where your hips have filled out even more, where your stomach is curved – where your breasts have begun to droop a little from how heavy and swollen with milk they are. He sighs as he looks you over, and it is the sigh of a man who is indeed very pleased with his work.

“You can move,” he says. He moves the covers off of him, and you are not surprised to see that he is bare; that his cock is already stirring, heavy and thick between his thighs. “Come.” He crooks a finger at you, and you are grateful to be able to move, to take the weight off your ankles as you’re permitted to sit on the bed beside him. His arms wrap around you – they are strong, and certain, and he holds you like you are his property.

Which you suppose you are. Your head lolls back onto his shoulder and he makes a soft huff of amusement, but doesn’t say anything about how brazen you are. You are permitted some special favours, now that you are Naoya’s, and now that you are fulfilling your purpose so beautifully.

Naoya’s lips brush your ear, his tongue lapping at the curve of your neck, the joint between throat and shoulder. You sigh prettily, the warmth of his mouth on you making you shiver. One of his hands curls around your breast, enjoying the heavy weight of you in his hand. Thumb and forefinger gently pinch your nipple.

He was rough with you the first time, but now he treats you like porcelain – and the idea that you are precious to Naoya Zenin sets your stomach aflame, makes your breath stick in your throat. He tugs at it softly, coaxing you to sigh, a drop of liquid leaking from the sensitive nub as you squirm backwards into his lap. His tone is lightly warning as he says;

“Come on, be good. It’s a good sign, sweetheart.”

He calls you sweetheart in front of other people and the ones who have bought this rags-to-riches Cinderella story exchange looks that say ‘isn’t she lucky?’. You hear the light edge in it, the smirk, the loftiness – but it always seems to break into something that’s almost fond, when he’s inside you and touching you and his teeth bite into your neck.

“Just that your body is doing what it’s supposed to do,” your other nipple is subjected to the same treatment, and you feel Naoya’s breath hitch, his cock stir behind you and dig into the small of your back. “I think the moment he’s in his nursery I’m going to fuck another son into you, dearest.”

“Mm?” You say, a little breathless as his hand goes lower. He sweeps his palm over the curve of your stomach, pausing where the skin is tight and swollen. His cock twitches once more at the reminder of how utterly his you are, and how wonderfully you are doing your purpose. How lucky he is, to have found someone submissive and well-trained and obedient and sweet, who looks so luscious full of him.

You drive him to distraction even when you don’t realise he’s looking at you.

“Thighs apart,” he grunts, into your ear, and you comply with the docile nature of someone raised to serve. He loves that about you. Loves, too, when he dips his fingers between your legs and your slick coats his digits, a soft whine catching in the back of your throat as he circles your clit and little shocks spark all through you, making you almost clamp your thighs back around his hand.

You do not, though. You are well-behaved. And you and Naoya have played this game enough times that you know that this is leading to relief for both of you.

One of his long fingers slides inside of you and you widen your thighs more, your soft whimper breaking and pitching – it’s such a servile, sweet little noise that Naoya cannot help but crook his finger, let it rub against the textured spot on your inner walls that has you clenching and gasping.

Since your pregnancy, you have become so sensitive. Naoya is the kind of man who hates working to pleasure a woman – who considers your orgasm a choice, and his a foregone conclusion. But with you swollen and full with his seed, he is slow and indulgent – and it is so easy, now that a brush of his palm makes you shiver and a tug of his teeth on your earlobe makes you gasp.

The finger is pulled out of you, and Naoya raises it to your lips, hooking his finger inside so you open your mouth and let him press your own slick onto your tongue.

Your tongue gently suckling at his finger reminds him of the insistent pounding of need inside of him; the stiff cock, leaking pre-come. He’d gotten so distracted touching you and enjoying you he’d almost forgotten about his own pleasure, and he sighs as he props himself up on pillows and reaches for you.

“Get comfortable,” he tells you.

His preference is to have you beneath him; that, he thinks, is his wife’s proper place. But it has begun to be difficult, with your stomach so distended – and he is nothing, he thinks to himself with more than a touch of smugness, if not an indulgent provider. A good husband.

(That’s what he thinks, anyway. You are not hurt. You get pretty things, and him in your bed, and the estate’s servants at your beck and call, an expensive wedding ring on your finger and the honour of his name affixed to yours, and his seed taking root inside of you. What else could you ask of him?)

So you are permitted to spread your knees, to climb on top of him – to gently sink your tight, wet, heat about his cock and seat yourself comfortably on the muscle of his thighs and the flat planes of his stomach.

“If you had my view,” he says, teasingly. “Mm, you were really made as breeding stock, weren’t you?” The words make heat rush to your face as he cups your hips in his hand again, squeezing the new covering of plush flesh that you’ve acquired since your pregnancy. “My wife.”

The words send a quiet thrill through you. You sigh as he bottoms out, as your body meets his entirely; your hands splaying on his shoulders. He is not flat against the bed – that position is too weak, not fitting for a man of his stature. But he is propped up with pillows behind him, so that he can admire how you look as your teeth bite into your plump bottom lip and you lift yourself just a little off his straining cock, before letting yourself fall back down.

He lets you set the pace. If you are to be permitted to ride him, he thinks, you may as well be the one doing all of the work. Part of him, too, is afraid of touching you too much – of hurting you, when you have something so precious inside of you. He would not admit that to himself – that’s not a thought process befitting of someone of his stature. But . . . it nibbles at the corners of his consciousness.

He cares about you. He does not want to hurt you. He does not want you to be uncomfortable – not when you are doing such a good job, when you are so lovely for him, when he is so grateful to have found you--

It’s no more than I deserve, he reminds himself.

And to brush back thoughts that are not proper for his elevation station in life, he lets himself watch the bounce of your breasts. Lets his fingers dig into the even softer, rounder thighs. Enjoys the sight of your mound bouncing on his cock, the feel of your slick walls clinging to his cock.

You are so beautiful, swollen with his child.

It is the first time he has ever looked at a woman and saw power in them. There is, he thinks, a power in what you have – in the glow about your skin, the brightness of your eyes, the curves and roundness and soft, supple flesh. The thought almost frightens him – but then, you push up again and your eyes meet his own for just a moment and he remembers that you are swollen with his child and have the power of him inside of you, and it becomes comforting.

Without him, you’d be nothing.

So he watches you with hungry eyes as you move your hips on his cock; as his length sinks inside of you, as you angle yourself just so – so that every stroke of your hips makes his cock rub against the place inside you that earlier had you seeing stars. Your breath is getting faster and faster, your fingers on his shoulders flexing as the tight string of your release is wound inexorably closer and closer.

Naoya allows himself a groan; a light thrust of his hips, in time with your own. The chase of your warm, tight walls as you try and pull away. He lets his gaze wander to how his cock is coated in your slick, all wet and shining in the light of the bedroom – and he is once more reassured. This is his. You are his. This wetness, this need – this is all for him. The way your body has changed is because of him.

His own release is creeping up on him.

Today, though, he decides he will be merciful – he reaches forward , curving his fingers just so, so that he can toy with your clit as you continue to fuck him. He rolls the bud with the pad of his fingers (soft; he wields just one weapon, and most people do not get to see it. Most of his harder work is done with his technique, and you have seen him apply expensive hand cream to keep himself handsome), knowing your body as well as he knows his own.

He prides himself on that, and you have spent enough nights in his bed that it is second nature to him. Women are predictable, he thinks, smirk on his face as your channel clenches around his hard cock and you come, whimpering out his name--

(In bed, he prefers Naoya-sama, and you are a good wife. Your tone is servile, soft, obedient – and in return, Naoya is almost sweet to you.)

He thrusts his hips roughly up into you, chasing his own release as your body spasms and trembles about him. You are still so tight; so hot and taut where the aftershocks are making you tremble. It’s the sight of your body, quivering under your release, that does it in the end.

Your hips and stomach and breasts and thighs, all rounded with the miracle of bearing life. All softened and plump; meek and pliant, a perfect little wife. His perfect little wife.

As he feels the tension inside of him snap, one of his hands winds about the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

Naoya’s grunt of pleasure is lost in the kiss, his mouth against yours hard and hungry. He is not willing to give up his dominance even here – but . . .

He has not kissed you so intimately before.

He has always avoided your mouth, preferring his lips on your chest or neck – turning your face away if it had seemed you might go for his mouth (later on, he had not bothered – he knows you well enough now to know that you would not dare.)

He tastes like wine. Like fancy, expensive sweets; the kind that you could have never afforded before you were his, but he has had at his disposal for his whole life. Like a cross between freedom and a prison--

He groans as he fills you up; his cock twitching, shooting out thick ropes of his come to land thick and heavy in your insides. Your whimper at the sensation is lost in his mouth, but Naoya fails to miss it – the fingers around the nape of your neck stroke through your hair, almost comforting, as he pulls back from you.

His lips are shiny, full and pretty. The grin that he gives you is crooked – and though you know it should not, though you know you should hate him for being arrogant and cruel and considering you lesser than him, the grin sends a rush of affection all through you.

If you were sentimental, you would say that the affection is mirrored in his own pale eyes.

(Naoya is glad you are not; you cannot see, beneath the triumph that you are claimed and carrying his heir and the hunger for your body and the pleasure that you are exactly the kind of wife that he wanted, that perhaps he does care about you.)

“My little wife,” he says, and he brushes his thumb over your cheek, hot with the rush of blood. “You’re so good for me.”

And you’ll carry on being so.

You’re so lovely when you’re expecting.

[write-nerdy-to-me]

~ destiel fic, hurt/comfort, 1k words, for @castielsdisciple​  

“Be still,” Dean murmurs to Cas when he flinches away again. He’s tried to minimize how much he pokes and digs, knowing what a bitch it is to be on the business end of pliers, but he can’t help that some of the shards are buried deep. He waits patiently as Cas takes a large swallow from the whiskey bottle he’s clutched like a lifeline, then Dean picks out yet another broken glass piece and drops it into the cup next to his hip.  

It couldn’t have just been a cut-and-dry D-list case, because life — this life especially — doesn't work like that. It was inevitable for shit to go sideways on them, and it’s laughable, fucking inane Dean ever dared to think otherwise. (“Good things do happen, Dean,” Cas said to him once. Dean’s still not convinced that's true.) 

Dean doesn’t know what it is about Cas, but the monster, like, fixated on him. The whole night, no matter how hard Dean fought to get the ugly bastard's attention, it kept going after Cas. Then monster grabbed and fucking bodily tossed him out the window and let out a roar that felt like it shook the whole house; Dean's only felt his heart leap into his throat like that a few times. He didn't get time to even process what happened because the monster, having taken out one opponent, turned and advanced on him. Dean had to finish the job alone, not knowing if Cas was even still alive. He ran to find Cas lying on a patch of wood chips, shattered glass surrounding him like a halo. Those few short moments felt like several lifetimes as he slid to his knees next to Cas, who was winded and aching and breathing. ("You alive?" Dean asked, and Cas huffed out a pained laugh and flipped him the bird. "Yeah — yeah, you're alive, you asshole.") 

Dean could swear that Cas has a deathwish or something because the reckless motherfucker refused to be checked out at the hospital. Dean insisted that he needed to go, as only so much could be done with the sparse supplies they had. They argued, and in the end, Cas’ stubborn glare won out. If he was gonna be like that, then Dean figured the sooner they get a move on and save Cas from his own bullheaded stupidity, the better. The last thing they need is Cas getting an infection. And the way he climbed into the Impala, slow, graceless, hiding his winces and grinding his teeth, only further proved that they should head to the hospital, but Dean held his tongue.

The ride back to the motel was, to say the least, unpleasant. In their room, it’s not much better. 

For the past hour now, Dean’s painstakingly removed a myriad of embedded glass and wood shards from Cas’ back, wiped away the blood, and applied ice to the welts that have already turned angry and dark. Cas hasn’t said a word since their fight— that disagreement back at the old farmhouse, but Dean's talked plenty for the both of them. He’s lost count of how many times he’s repeated this mantra: Be still, be still. How many times it’s followed by tiny plinks of glass and wood into a plastic cup. Dean would think Cas finds it patronizing — insulting, even — if it weren’t for the way the coiled tension in Cas’ shoulders starts to ease whenever he speaks. If it makes this process easier for him… well, then who’s Dean to deny him?

“Be still. I know, I know. I’m sorry.” Another glass piece. Plink.

The A/C unit in the corner kicks over with a wheeze. Cas says, “I don’t deserve this,” in a voice so hushed Dean would’ve missed it if he wasn’t sitting right behind him. 

Dean’s hands stop, just for a moment. Plink, plink. “What are you talking about?”

Cas sighs. “I don’t deserve this. Your attention, your care, your lo—” He cuts himself off, arms coming around his middle and shoulders hunching away from Dean’s hands. A soft hiss escapes his lips as the motion tugs sharply at his wounds. He sounds like wishes he could take back the words the second they leave his mouth and hates himself for it. “Your kindness. I don’t deserve it.”

How could Cas think so little of himself? Believe himself so unworthy that he shouldn’t even receive the most basic care? But Dean gets it, maybe more than Cas realizes. “That’s bullshit,” Dean says mildly. Plink. 

“Dean...” Cas starts to shift further away from him, and that won’t do, because he needs to listen, needs to hear what Dean’s telling him, and he won’t if he’s already sinking into himself. 

“Don’t, I’m not finished,” Dean admonishes quietly. “I’m serious. Don’t move.” He touches Cas’ waist and— and he just stills with a shaky breath. If this were any other time, Dean would dwell on how Cas caves at the slightest touch initiated from him, how he always just lets him.

When it seems like Cas isn’t on the verge of bolting, Dean says, “I know there's something about this case that got to you bad — don’t think I didn’t notice, man.” Hunts aren't easy, and unexpected bodies turning up are never something a good hunter takes lightly, but Cas seemed to take each one like a devastating blow. Dean tried to press Cas about it, and he shook off Dean’s worry and pretended that everything was fine. Dean doesn't have to be a good hunter to know Cas was lying. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

Cas turns his face away. “There’s nothing to talk about.” A beat. Then, “I think you’d be better off hunting with Sam again.”

The fuck? Taken aback, heat starts to crawl up Dean’s face. Part of him wants to be angry — hell, he kinda is, underneath the hurt — but he takes a breath and lets it out slowly, for once grateful Cas is facing the other way. “I like hunting with you. Besides, Sam's got his club going on, and anything with Eileen he likes to be involved.”

“Maybe you should have a different partner. One that doesn’t fuck up.”

“Everyone fucks up,” Dean says defensively. “Cas, if this is about what you did, you’re already forgiven for that—” 

But Cas isn’t listening. The dam's busted open. “I’m supposed to— I used to be an angel. My powers, I could... I could help you, I could help Sam, but now I can’t — I can’t even do that.” Cas covers his face with his hands, rakes them roughly up through his hair. “I’m — I’m useless.”

Dean’s heart clenches sharply. He knew that the fading powers and subsequent loss of them had been hard on Cas, but Dean didn’t know it was affecting him this badly. Then he feels like an asshole, because of course this was, for fuck's sake. “Cas…”

Cas turns around, winces as he moves too quickly. He touches Dean’s face with gentle, hesitant fingers. There are scrapes and cuts Dean hasn’t taken care of yet, too occupied with making sure Cas doesn’t get a damn infection. Cas’ eyes grow sad; his brow furrows. “I miss— With a touch, I could heal you. I wouldn’t need you to care for me this — this way.” 

“Cas, man, you gotta know that it’s never been about your powers. You’re not a-a tool, Cas. All I want— It’s just you. I told you, man. I’d rather have you. Nothing’s ever gonna change that.”

Cas is quiet for a minute. “Your faith... I've always admired it. How you put your trust in people. You're a good man, Dean."

"Yeah, well." Dean clears his throat. "Gotta make up for all the bad shit I've done, right?"

Cas hums, unconvinced. He grabs the damp rag that held the ice, shaking out the remaining pieces. He doesn’t seem to care where the ice landed. "Let me?" 

Dean almost says no, he's fine, but something in the way Cas looks at him... "Okay."

Cas wipes away the dried blood on Dean's face. Lately, he and Cas would be arguing, if they weren’t busy giving each other the cold-shoulder. It’s not the first time they’ve been at opposite ends or had disagreements — Dean refuses to say they bickered — not by a long shot. It’s just... been a while. Dean thought they were past petty fights. Now, though, they fall into a comfortable silence, for once not thick with tension from the unsaid. 

Cas’ thumb traces over the scar on Dean's chin, and he says, a hopeless look in his eye, "I love you. Did you know that?"

Dean just breathes and touches Cas' wrist. "Cas..."

"You don't have to say anything. I just thought you should know."

Dean tugs the rag out of Cas' hand. His mind is taking a second to reboot. But he knows — he knows he needs to kiss Cas right now. "C’mere," he mumbles and cups Cas' face between his palms and presses their mouths together. When they separate to breathe, Dean says, “It’s always you, Cas. You know that.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“I love you.” The smile Cas gives him is soft and crooked and still sad. Dean’s not stupid; he knows things with Cas are rocky at best, but it’s a start. “Now turn back around so I can get the rest of the junk out, asshole.”