#lavender brown deserved better

[wisebeth]

i knew percy jackson was superior to harry potter when both series introduced a love triangle in the last second book to cause angst between the main pairing and how both authors handled it so differently.

we had jkr, who turned lavender into a joke and mocked her interests and whole character, looked down upon her for being a teenager with a crush just to uplift hermione as the better love interest for ron and handled the whole triangle with very obvious misogynistic undertones to show why hermione is superior to the other woman™.

and then we had rick, who treated rachel with respect and gave her a likable personality and goals and interests of her own, had percy and rachel develop a genuine friendship and even gave rachel some iconic moments to shine on her own, never bashed rachel to uplift annabeth and most importantly concluded the love triangle with annabeth and rachel becoming friends and letting go of their past beef.

[broken-bodies-club]

RIP Lavender Brown. I know you would have loved Marina's entire discography <3

[thecasualauthor]

I think Lavender Brown is underrated.

That's it that's the post

[moonlightdancer26]

Lavender Brown haters aren’t welcome on this blog btw

[daydreams-after-dark]

"Stop Lift" button

NSFW // AU LEE KNOW FANFIC // female reader x Lee Minho spicy short story. Work colleagues to lovers.

You and Lee Know work together but when you find out he’s moved into the same apartment building as you things get steamy in the elevator

Approx 3.5k words

Warnings below

Warnings: elevator sex // oral sex (both rec) // unprotected vaginal sex // orgasms // dirty talk // names "slut", "whore" // nudity // masturbation // vibrators // panty fetish

You hop in the elevator of your apartment building and press the button for the 4th floor. It’s late afternoon, around 4pm, and you were able to get away from work a little earlier than usual. Well, actually you gave yourself a well deserved early mark because you had finally finished a project you'd been working on. It’d had taken you months. Months of brain energy, late nights and a shit load of coffee.

You're feeling so good that you'd decided to use the lift rather than climbing the stairs. The lift is unreliable at best. When it’s not breaking down, it’s slow and clunky and makes this weird whiny noise as it moves up and down the lift shaft. The stairs would have been quicker but hey, you have heels on, and you're wearing your new lavender knit wrap dress. It clings to all the right places. You feel like sex on legs. Someone who is sex on legs does not take the stairs. Right?

The lift doors haven’t even closed yet, it’s that fucking slow, and you catch sight of someone coming towards the lift. Damn it, it’s rare that you have to share a lift with anyone. How irritating.

Irritating until you catch sight of who is trying to get into the lift. Then it just turns horrifying. Oh my god! You almost die on the spot. It’s that Lee Minho from the accounts department at your work. Lee Minho that looked like he was going to eat you alive the first time he saw you two months ago. Lee Minho who you thought hated you and you hated him, but you ended up flirting your your ass off with at last weeks boozy karaoke night in the office.

Lee Minho that you snuck off with into a stationary storeroom and almost had sex with. “Do you like this, kitten.” He’d whispered in your ear when his hand slipped up your dress and gripped your ass. You could still feel his hands up your skirt now and you clenched at the memory. “You look so fucking tempting flirting with me like that?” He had growled low. “I could take you right now if you’ll let me, little kitten.” He’d stated as he fingered your pussy.

Who knows what would’ve happened if someone hadn’t set of a fire alarm and he was insistent that you had better evacuate.

It’s not that you wouldn’t consider going on a date with him, or fucking him in a work closet. It’s just work are gossips and you learned the hard way about the repercussions of sleeping with men at work.

But why the fuck is Lee Minho getting in the lift in your apartment building?

“Hold the lift” Minho says as he hurries inside, and you push the thoughts of him in a closet out of your head.

“You don’t need to hurry, this thing is slow. You’d be better to climb the steps.” you offer trying to be calm.

He turns to look at you and his eyes grow wide. “y/n!” He beams “I wasn’t expecting to run into you. Wow! Do you live here?”

I nod “Yep! I live in this shit hole. Wait. Why are you here?”

“I’m… we’ll,” he scratches his head “I’ve just moved in on level 3.” He smirked. “We’ll probably run into each other a lot.” He added with that eat-you-alive look all over his face.

You take in that new piece of information as he looks to the panel the floor numbers and presses the 3rd floor, and you try to sneakily check him out. Like you always do when he happens to be near you. No wonder you dry humped him in the cupboard. He is slim, but it’s obvious he is also strong and toned, and his light sandy brown hair falls around his face in quite an annoyingly attractive way.

“So… you never did answer me the other day.” He glanced at you and raised an eyebrow.

“Huh?” You are taken out of your thoughts.

“About sharing a meal with me. You never answered.”

That’s right, during the fiasco amongst the paper and paperclips he’d asked you out for a meal.

It’s only now that the doors finally close and the lift mechanisms kick into gear ready to take you up to our respective floors.

“Yes, I guess that would be okay.” It slips out of your mouth before you could stop it.

Minho suddenly turns to you and takes a step closer, giving you his full attention. Fuck he is beautiful. And deadly. His proximity is sparking arousal throughout your body, much like when you were drunk and you feel yourself getting wet.

“I…I just don’t know when would be convenient.” you say it quickly to distract yourself from the tension between your legs. The sexual energy between you is thick. He feels it too, you're sure of it. You automatically look down to his crotch to find he is hard. You can see the bulge under his navy trousers. God you'd love to let his cock free. You look back up to meet his dark gaze.

He comes closer now, like he is cornering his prey, closing in on you. The lift has only just passed level 1. Your breath hitches and your exhale is more of a shudder than anything else. You take a step back but you are now pushed against the wall, the hand rail pushing against your lower back.

Without breaking eye contact with you, Minho slams the “Stop Lift” button and the elevator grinds to a halt.

“Is this convenient, kitten?” He says bluntly, leaning in so he is merely centimeters from your face. You couldn’t escape even if you wanted to. You don’t want to.

“W-what do you mean?” you whisper. Your handbag falls to the carpeted floor, spilling half the contents out all over the place.

He rests his left arm on the wall beside your head and brings his right hand up to your jaw. With his index finger he traces your jawline delicately. Slowly. Dangerously. Then proceeds to trace his finger down the front of your neck towards your cleavage.

“Ah, I suppose I wasn’t entirely clear, sweetheart.” His finger reaches the top edge of the very low neckline of your dress and he rests his fingers on the top bulge of your breast. Your chest is rising and falling rapidly as your heart rate and breathing increase. He knows what he is doing to you.

“When I said share a meal with me,” he licks his lower lip hungrily and his eyes follow his hand as it slips down to the belt tie of your dress and resting there.

“I meant that you’re the meal.” He looks back up to you but his hand hasn’t moved.

“Would that be okay. Kitten?”

Sweet fucking Jesus! You try to remember to breathe.

Would it be okay? Right here in the lift?

In that moment you lost all sense of reason. A lift is much riskier than a cupboard, but this man is turning you on so much your brain is mush. Your mind flashes back to how Minho spoke to you in the cupboard, and how close you’d been to letting him fuck you while all your colleagues were merely metres away from you.

“Yes… it’s convenient.” Your voice sounds raspy.

You want to share everything you can with this sexy specimen. Right now.

“Let’s see what we’ve got here then?” Minho tugs at your dress’s tie-belt and it loosens easily. The knit fabric falling open to expose your bare skin and underwear. You hold your breath waiting for what he might do next.

“You’ve worn this for me?” He smirks, taking in the site of your lingerie and half naked body. “I saw you walking around the office today. I didn’t know what kind of slutty lingerie you had on, though. Hmm.” He resumes tracing your skin, this time skirting the hem of the top of your black satin push-up bra and then cupping your breast in his hand. Minho exhales sharply and takes both of his hands and drags them down your stomach as he sinks to his knees.

You grab the handrail that you've been pressed up against, and steady yourself. Minho’s fingers are now tracing over your teeny tiny black g-string.

“Ah, you’ve packaged this up nicely for me too. You’re such a whore. You were probably hoping I’d get to see this, huh?” His left hand reaches around to grasp your bare right cheek and begins to stroke his finger against your lips, still through the underwear. The satin fabric makes it easy to glide his finger up and down. You are sopping wet now and your body is aching to be penetrated.

You think he is going to slide your underwear down your legs, but instead he loops his finger around the underside and tugs it to the side.

With the thong out of the way, he slips a finger through your bare lips. You groan at the sensation. You are slick and slippery and it takes Minho no effort to slip a finger inside of you. You grip the handrail and throw your head back. It’s been so long since you've had a man do this to you.

“So fucking ready.” He comments. “It looks like you’ve got dinner all ready for me. Just for me. You’re whole fucking outfit, these heels,” he gestures to your shoes, “the black lingerie. It’s like you knew I would be devouring you today.” He pumps his fingers in and out of you and squeezes your ass hard. You gasp with the sudden forcefulness.

“You don’t want to let your dinner get cold then.” you challenge him, you're dying for his face to be buried in your pussy.

Minho growls. Your bold remark spurs him on and the next thing you know his face is between your legs, his tongue presses up against your clit. He is not gentle, but this is not the time for that. You are hungry and ravenous too and you want it hard and dirty. Delicate just won’t cut it.

From the way Minho is ravishing you it appears he hasn’t eaten in a month! His grunts and enthusiasm makes you feel delicious.

You continue to hold the handrail and he forces one of your thighs over his shoulder, propping you up and allowing him more access. His tongue slips inside you now.

You realise that you haven’t actually touched him at all yet. You want to suck his cock. You've decided. Even though you haven’t reached an orgasm, you unhook your leg from Minho’s shoulder and guide him back to standing.

“Wait, why did you take my dinner away? Kitten?” he demands, diving in to nip at your neck, his hands all over you. You can smell your wetness on his breath. You wonder if he is going to kiss you.

You push him off you and give him a seductive look. You bite your lip as you cast your eyes down to his jeans. You definitely want to suck his cock.

You begin to undo the button on his trousers, and ever so slowly unzip his fly. You pull his pants and boxers down just enough so that you can release his cock. It’s your turn to slink down to your knees and you're now face to face with his enormous, hard, throbbing erection. You clasp a hand around his shaft and position yourself to take him in your mouth. You begin by licking the pre-cum off the tip and his cock twitches. Minho sucks his breath through his teeth.

“That’s it kitten.” He encourages. You sink your mouth down around his cock and take it as far back as you can. You can’t get all of him in your mouth. You haven’t mastered deep throating, so you have to rely on your tongue and hand technique.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” you must be doing okay then. “You’re such a dirty slut kneeling on this filthy floor with cock in your mouth.”

Oh you like this dirty talk. You increase your pace and allow yourself to become more aggressive, needy and messy. You let saliva run down your hand as you stroke him and you moan and hum like it’s the best dick you've ever tasted. It is the best dick you've ever tasted.

Minho grabs the back of your head, tangling his fingers through your hair and forces you to hold steady as he begins to fuck your face. He grunts and moans with each thrust. Your eyes become watery and he is careful not to go any deeper than what you can handle. You dig your nails of your other hand into his ass and he growls like some sort of wild animal. His erection is so hard and swollen in your mouth that you're sure he is going to come any moment. You are about to pump him harder when suddenly he pulls out of your mouth and lifts you back off the floor pushing you hard against the wall where you started. Hooking an arm under each of your thighs he lifts you to perch on the handrail, your dress hanging open and slipping off a shoulder.

He aggressively and passionately gropes your breasts with one hand, holding you in place with his other. Finally, he grabs your face and forcefully, greedily, smashes his mouth against yours. You open your mouth for his tongue and he obliges you with a deep, erotic kiss. You can taste yourself mingled with mint, his tongue dancing with yours.

This sends your vagina crazy. Fuck me already you think.

As if reading your thoughts, Minho pulls back enough to reach down to your g-string and literally rips one side, then the other, angry that it dared to be there.

Now you're truly exposed. You hold onto his shoulders and he comes in close between your legs, and with one hand pinning you in place, he grips his cock with his other, and directs the head to push against your entrance. You need it so bad. You are on the verge of begging him to fuck you now.

His jaw hangs slack and his tongue pokes out the side of his mouth as he watches the tip of his cock rub up and down your lips, which is fucking dripping now. He slides it up through your lips once, twice, and then thrusts himself all the way inside of you in one motion. You cry out as you feel like you’ve been split in two as his hips meet your body. Minho pauses for a moment to let you adjust to him being inside of you.

“You’re dying for cock aren’t you? Look how well you take me. So greedy for my dick.” He leans his forehead against yours. “Are you ready to have your brains fucked out?”

He starts to thrust in and out of you at a forceful pace.

“You know, Minho,” you pant, “I think you might be the slut. So desperate to fuck a woman in a filthy elevator”.

That was enough to tip Minho over the edge. With both arms hooked under each of your legs, he digs his fingers into your thighs and begins to slam into you at an exceptionally hard and fast pace. Your are so wet that his penis threatens to slip out, but Minho does well to thrust it back into you before that happens, until on one withdrawal it slips out entirely and you both groan in frustration and need.

He pushes his cock back in moaning in relief that it’s back inside. He pulls down the sleeves of your dress, biting and kissing your shoulder.

“You know, kitten,” he says hoarsely between breaths, “maybe we are just two needy sluts who enjoy fucking in the elevator.” He grins, and you laugh. But your laughing doesn’t last long because you are both so very close now.

You can feel the head of his cock pounding into your cervix. With every contact you scream louder and louder. He is so deep and you're living for it. His thrusts start to become a little staggered and wobbly. He is close, but so are you, and you are going to come God Damn it.

You hold tighter to his shoulders and you start to buck against him and he resumes holding your thighs and ass to support you.

“Come for me, come on my cock. That’s it kitten.” He concentrates on keeping steady so you can set the rhythm, and you come so hard your body shakes and shudders. You cry out as your climax overwhelms you.

“That’s it, good girl. You such a slut for my cock, huh?” he kisses your mouth.

“Mmm hmm.” you respond and you bite his tongue. “Now it’s your turn. Fuck me and fill me up with your cum.” you say filthily. This whole scenario is so dirty. Raw, dirty, sex. In a public place. With Minho.

You take his face in your hands “come in me.” you whisper breathlessly.

All it took was two more hard final thrusts and you could feel his semen release high up inside of you, painting your insides. Minho relaxes against your body. “Fuck that was so fucking… grrr. So good.” He growls and pulls out of you leaving you feeling empty.

You try to catch your breath and compose yourself as you redress, sans panties, and try to straighten your hair. Minho packs his cock away safely and bends down to gather all the things that had fallen out of your bag while you put a shoe back on. You didn’t even know it had fallen off!

“Here you go, kitten.” He passes you your handbag and presses the lift button so that it starts moving again. You hope no one had been waiting to use it.

“Thanks Minho.” you smile. He is so addicting.

The lift opens on level 3 and Minho steps out of the lift. Fuck, his ass is beautiful too.

Finally you reach your floor. You can feel Minho’s cum dribbling down your leg. You hurriedly hop out of the lift and rummage around your bag for your keys. While you’re searching, you realise your underwear isn’t in there! You keep rummaging. No way! You know they weren’t left on the elevator floor, you'd checked that nothing was left behind. Minho. The fucker. The kinky fucker. He’s fucking taken your underwear!

You should be angry, but you're more amused, and if you're honest very turned on.

That night, you lay in bed fantasising about your little escapade in the lift. You wonder what he is doing right now? Is he laying there with your panties wrapped around his cock while he jerks off and cums all over them? You reach into your bedside draw for your vibrator, and spend the next little while relishing in thought of Minho fucking your underwear.

——————————————————————

On the floor below, Minho takes a quick shower but his mind is still in the elevator with you. He hadn’t intended for it to go that far, he just wanted to eat you out, but you had other ideas.

He looks down at his penis “She really liked you doesn’t she?” he says to it endearingly.

Minho turns off the tap and dries off. He doesn’t dress. Living alone is convenient like that. You can do whatever you wanted. Don’t want to wear clothes? Don’t have to.

He strolls over to his bed and perches himself on the edge. He really can’t get you out of his head. He turns to his trousers that he had tossed on the bed earlier. Hmm that’s right, he thinks to himself as he reaches into the front pocket and pulls out the your torn panties. The panties he had torn off your delicious body. His cock twitches with the memory. He reaches in again and pulls out another item that he had taken when he was picking the things that had fallen out of your handbag. A lipstick.

Minho gets into bed and leans against the headboard, holding the items he stole. Is he a pervert? The black satin g-string was beyond repair, and he could see where you had been wet and leaking onto the fabric. He bites his lip. Then he takes the lipstick in his hand. He has an idea. His plan is to smear some of the lipstick around his cock to make it look like you had just sucked him off. Then he will jerk off.

But Minho is having trouble. How the hell do you get the lid off? He takes a closer look. A button. Okay let’s press that.

Buzzzzzz. It’s not a lipstick. It’s a mini bullet vibrator!

Arousal rushes to his cock. So you carry this around with you then? You are truly something!

He lays back into the mattress and places the vibrator against his balls. Mmmm! So good, especially because he knows that you have used this to pleasure yourself. Have all your juices smeared all over it. Have shaken and convulsed on it. Minho shudders and exhales a shaky breath. He takes the torn panties and places it over his face. He wants to, no needs to, smell you. Taste you. Savor you.

With his free hand he reaches for his lube that he keeps under his pillow and squirts a generous amount all over the head of his cock. He starts to stroke himself rhythmically, breathing in as much of your scent as he can.

He imagines your sitting on his face. Your heels next to his head, and that you’re the one pumping his cock. He begins to buck his hips as he fucks his own hand. Faster and harder. He licks the panties pretending he is sucking and licking your pussy. Imagining you are moaning and coming on his face.

He visualises you sinking your mouth onto his cock all the way to the hilt. He knew you couldn’t take him all in, but in his imagination you are deep throating him, and using your vibrator to bring him to orgasm. Fuck. Minho’s cum covers his hand and paints his stomach. That was quick, but intense.

He relaxes his muscles, exhausted and satisfied and basks in the feelings of pleasure as he calms his heart rate.

He decides he needs to have another shower.

@noellllslut @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @newhope8 @queen-in-the-shadows @queenmea604

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Toxic Love

Yandere Male Cherub x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Stalking, magical mind manipulation, religious themes, dub-con, general yandere behavior, smut) Word Count: 1.3k (A long time ago I had written a similar piece to this, but I deleted it because there was a request on another blog, that i had not seen until after I wrote my piece, that looked like it had heavily influenced my fic. Now I have reworked and added smut in celebration of Valentine’s Day. I hope you all enjoy. I apologize for any mistakes I forgot that it was going to be Valentine’s Day until just a few hours ago.) 

Celael was a cherub. There were many cherubs, more commonly known as cupids. None of them looked like little flying babies though. Most actually had long hair, one set of wings, and skin in varying tones of pink and sometimes lavender or even red. Celael’s wings were a pastel pink, matching his skin tone, but his shoulder length hair was light lavender and his eyes were a passionate crimson red. Most cupids were happy with their existence, taking both pride and joy in their work, spreading love among the humans. But Celael was not happy at all. Through the countless years of diligently carrying out assignments, matching humans together, and keeping the love flowing for mortals he became more and more empty until he was pretty much running on autopilot. Just going through the motions. A void was festering within him that he failed to understand. Co-workers and friends did nothing to fill it, his job seemed a cruel mockery. He influenced the hearts and minds of humans until they were filled to the brim with love, but he could do nothing for his own ever withering soul. But he kept doing his sacred duty. But then one day he got an assignment to set up a cook in a little restaurant with a co-worker and when he went to go pierce each one of their hearts with a set of bonded arrows to push their hearts towards love he suddenly realized what he was missing. That cook he was supposed to match together with a waiter was you. And you were just exactly what he was missing. Every time he gazed upon you his heart beat faster and his palms grew sweaty, was this what love was? And just like many humans that didn’t need a supernatural push he was experiencing this all entirely without arrows. He decided to observe you to be sure, he knew how love worked and he wanted to be sure of his emotions. Celael was entirely invisible to you as he stalked you, watching you at all hours of the day. He loved the way you nervously stammered when talking to your boss. He loved the way you carried yourself, all shy but determined to do your best. And most of all he loved how you treated others, without an ounce of malice in your heart, though it made him worry that someone could take advantage of you, and that thought is what sealed the deal. You needed someone to keep you safe, someone stronger than another mere mortal. Someone like… an angel. After all, your co-worker could not do a fraction of what he could do for you. He could let you know safety in the paradise of heaven. And why shouldn’t he, your designated match was a mortal the same age that you were, but he was as old as time! He had paid his dues, served humanity for countless ages, didn’t he deserve you a whole hell of a lot more? He thought so. So he formulated a plan and set it into action, he had to get you to have just a small amount of feelings for him. That’s how the arrows worked, there had to be something there naturally for them to work off of. And this would also give him a chance to know you better than he had ever known any human, or anyone at all for that matter. Celael donned a human disguise. His wings were gone, his eyes became brown, his skin slightly tan, and his hair black. He, under the name Cel, applied for the position of waiter that had opened up after your inconsiderate co-worker just disappeared, seemingly walking off the job in the middle of break and never returning without ever mentioning it to anyone. Over the course of weeks and then months Celael became your absolute best friend, you confided everything in him and trusted him completely. You were practically attached at the hip and could always be seen together. Just when you thought you might be starting to have the slightest whisper of feelings for him you felt a pain in your heart and collapsed. With only a brief flutter of wings Celael whisked you off to his little corner of heaven, it was a cozy cottage on a large floating island that was surrounded by a pink sky. The amorous cupid placed you on his comfortable bed and waited for you to wake. When you did finally rise from your magically induced slumber he could tell by the way that you looked at him that everything he had done had worked flawlessly. He had shot you with some extremely strong and illegally crafted love and lust arrows to make you only have eyes for him. You saw Cel upon opening your eyes and your heart immediately fluttered while your crotch felt a bit warm, but there was something wrong. He had wings and odd hair and skin, and this wasn’t your bed. You looked up at Cel and started to question him but he closed the distance between the two of you and leaned in for a kiss, pushing everything else to the back of your mind as all of your conscious thoughts were consumed with your focus on him. He disrobed you and rubbed your thighs gently before kissing a trail up them to your crotch and using his mouth on your sex. You stroked his pretty hair and silently moaned and gasped, unable to form words because your need for him was so deep. Celael, who you still only knew as Cel gently guided you into missionary position and aligned his large cock with your hole before sliding in fully in one smooth motion. Now it was Celael’s turn to gasp, in his many years of life this was his first time giving in to carnal desires, never had he known a greater pleasure than when he slipped into you. He took his time, this was a delicate and wonderful act that was surely meant to be savored, he slowly thrust in and out of you as he tenderly licked and kissed from your neck to your lips, He planted a deep kiss to your lips and moaned into the kiss. He was sloppy, but passionate, you could practically fill the emotions radiating off of him and you matched them perfectly. You had never felt like this before, so dizzy, so lost in the moment, but you were with Cel and that was all that mattered. He bit and sucked gently at your nipples before putting you into a mating press and going quite a bit faster, but not ruthlessly. The cherub continued at a good pace until right before you both came, when he slammed his lips into yours so you could share a kiss as twin orgasms racked both of your bodies. He draped his wings over you while holding you tight, happy tears in his eyes as he beheld you. That festering void that had been within him so long had at long last been filled. A bit of the fog that had been building in your head during the intimate act started to disperse and you had so many questions but seemingly as if reading your mind Celael shushed you as you began to open your mouth. “Not now my beloved, we can talk in the morning, right now let’s just rest okay?” You murmured your agreement and the angel repositioned you both so that you were both on your sides with him behind you. He spooned you with an arm and a wing draped over you as his large cock slid back inside of you, it did not take long for him to drift into a blissful sleep and even though you felt something was really off you gave into love for him and fell asleep beside him.

[kckt88]

Don't Mess With My Mind II

Summary:

Aemond and Y/N continue their secret affair and Aegon discovers that his girlfriend is pregnant.

Features an Aemond POV.

Warning(s): Angst, Language, Hurt, Comfort, Alcohol Consumption, Mean Of Cheating, Kissing, Smut – Fingering, Oral Sex (M & F Receiving), Unprotected P in V Sex, Confrontation, Violence.

Word Count: 3174

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

MODERN AU - AEMOND x Y/N - AEGON x Y/N

Inspired by the song: EMO - Don't Mess With My Mind.

Tag List: @immyowndefender, @zenka69, @iloveallmyboys, @summerposie, @namelesslosers, @dixie-elocin, @aemondsfavouritebastard, @toodlesxcuddles, @ammo23

Aemond remembered the first time Aegon brought Y/N back to their flat, she was such a timid little thing, almost like a mouse, not his brothers usual type at all.

But there was something about the way her eyes would light up when she smiled or the way she would bite her lower lip whenever she was reading.

It drove Aemond to distraction, never had he been so enamoured with anyone, not even his older ex who admittedly sucked his cock like a pro.

There were times when he would catch her looking at him wistfully from across the room and he would always wonder what she was thinking in that exact moment.

One day he caught her coming out of the shower with nothing, but a towel wrapped around her body and his cock responded in earnest.

That was the night he brought some big titted bimbo back to the flat, he closed his eye as he fucked her from behind, imagining that it was Y/N who was screaming his name and coming on his cock.

Another night he brought home some demure brown haired whisp of a woman, who he fucked into the mattress, his face pressed into her neck envisioning Y/N as he spilled into the condom.

The red head he brought home, now she was a freak. Never had any woman asked him to do anal on their first go but he was more than happy to oblige, he even invited her back for another go, but she began to get a bit clingy afterwards and he had to bin her off before she got worse.

He even resorted to seeing Alys again in between his slut phase, he would go to her flat and listen to her harp on about stuff he really didn’t give two shits about, then he would bend her over whatever surface was the closet and fuck her hard.

But nothing compared to Y/N.

Some nights he would hear Aegon fucking her, his brothers groans of pleasure sickening him to his stomach as he never once heard any of hers.

A woman like that deserved to be worshipped, she was a kindred spirit that needed releasing from the prison of his brother’s lacklustre affection.

But as always Aegon fucked things up for himself. His drinking had always been a problem and he’d ended up cheating on Y/N with her best friend no less.

Maybe he shouldn’t have propositioned her the way he did, as she was upset about Aegon, but he just couldn’t help himself.

As upset as she was Y/N clearly had a little vindictive streak in her as she readily agreed to go to bed with him.

He was going to make good on his promise and fuck her so hard that forgot Aegon’s name.

All his Christmases had clearly come at once as the feeling of Y/N’s lips on his was better than anything he’d ever imagined, the noises she made when he devoured her pussy like a starving man would linger with him for the rest of his days.

He loved eating pussy, something his previous partners were ever grateful for, but nothing compared to Y/N’s she was delicious in a way he’d never tasted before.

Even the feel of her tight, wet heat wrapped around his cock was everything he’d ever dreamt of, he never wanted to be anywhere else, and, in all honesty, he had never come so hard in his life, rope and after rope of his seed, coated her insides and the sight of it dripping from her drove him feral with need.

Even after she had left his flat, her lavender scent still lingered on his sheets, and he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

So, after he finished work the next day he went to her flat and threw her legs over his shoulders and devoured her sweet pussy until she was screaming his name.

After that it became a regular thing between them, she still hadn’t officially ended her relationship with his brother, but it didn’t matter. It was more fun this way.

They would usually met up at her flat, she lived alone, so it was easier to fuck her over every available surface and not worry about anyone walking in on them.

He would on occasion bring her back to his flat, careful of course to avoid Aegon, the idiot hadn’t realised that she’d caught him with Sara, and he would often complain that Y/N wasn’t responding to his calls or texts.

It gave Aemond a sick twisted sense of satisfaction after his brother would sit there lamenting his lost relationship only for Aemond to invite Y/N over and fuck her in the next room.

Once he had her pressed against his door with his cock deep inside her as his brother was on the other side complaining that he was making too much noise.

He even fucked Y/N in Aegon’s bed once, his drunken wastrel of a brother had finally got off his arse and gone out and the opportunity was too good to pass up.

Initially Y/N had her reservations, but she soon caved in when he slowly fingered her and then bent her over the desk and fucked her raw.

It was filthy, it was depraved and Aemond was living for it.

He would sometimes take her out on dates, something his cunt of a brother never did, and he would delight in teasing her pussy with his fingers as they sat waiting for their food in whatever restaurant they were in.

Of course his little mouse would get her own back and once when they went to the cinema she leaned over him and slowly sucked his cock, teasing him with her tongue to the point of madness before she allowed him to come in her mouth.

One time he even dared to surprise her at work when she was on a break, and he took her against the wall of the smoking shelter.

He delighted in the noises she made as she came around his cock, and the way she would slid her fingers into his hair and pull as she rode out her high.

The thrill of getting caught was intoxicating and it only made Aemond want her more.

The day he realised that he was completely in love with her was when they were laid naked with one another, their sweaty limbs entwined as she leaned over and pressed a series of gentle kisses to the scarred side of his face.

She called him beautiful, and she made him feel special. No woman had ever spoke to him in such a manner, and it warmed his heart beyond all comprehension.

Y/N was the silver lining on the dark cloud he called his life and he never wanted to be without her.

Ever since she had took that test Y/N was on pins, she knew that she had to tell Aemond, he had a right to know, but she was scared of how he would react.

They hadn’t talked for any length of time about a possible relationship and now she was pregnant with his baby.

Of course, there was also Aegon to deal with and that in itself was enough to give her a headache, and she really didn’t want to deal with him in that moment.

What she needed to do was get her head around the fact that she was pregnant and then after she’d summoned the courage, she would need to tell Aemond.

She didn’t see Aemond for a week, as they were both busy at work, so that gave Y/N the time to think.

One night she found herself eating a tub of pringles with her had pressed against her still flat stomach and she smiled at the thought that a piece of her and Aemond was growing inside her.

She wondered who the baby would look like, would he or she have her features or would they take after Aemond, which in truth Y/N didn’t mind at all.

After all, Aemond was a gorgeous man, his sharp features and piercing blue eye were surely a gift from the gods and a blessing to pass onto their child-boy or girl.

Sure enough, the week was over and after changing her outfit three times, Y/N was walking to Aemond’s.

She placed in her earphones and turned up the volume as Elvis Presley – I can’t help falling in love with you came on.

Most people had sneered at her music choices, but there was just something serene about the way Elvis sang. She couldn’t help but listen to him especially when she felt anxious.

Obviously, the current song choice was a bit on the nose, but it couldn’t have been more appropriate in that moment, because she couldn’t help but fall in love with Aemond and she hoped he felt the same way.

Eventually, Y/N found herself outside Aemond’s flat and after turning off her music and stowing her headphones on her pocket she took a deep breath as she knocked on the door. After a few minutes the door opened and Aemond stood there in a loose fitted white t-shirt and those damn sweatpants that made his cock look-

“-Is everything ok?” asked Aemond as he motioned for her to come in.

“I-I need to tell you something” replied Y/N as she sat on the sofa.

“What’s wrong?” mused Aemond as he sat in the armchair across from her.

“I’m pregnant” said Y/N.

“Huh” muttered Aemond, his mouth hanging open.

“I’m pregnant-and you’re the father”.

Aemond went rigid in his seat and stared unblinking at Y.N. He didn’t move as he mulled over what Y.N had just told him.

“A-Aemond-are you ok? Do you need some water?” asked Y/N concerned.

“N-No I’m good” replied Aemond clearing his throat.

“I would say it’s a bit of a shock, but we weren’t exactly diligent with the condoms”.

Aemond nodded his head in agreement, he could probably count on one hand the amount of times they did actually use protection. Most of their encounters usually ended up with him fucking her raw. Seeing her sweet cunt filled to the brim with his seed drove him feral, even thinking about it now he could feel his cock stirring.

“What do you plan to do?” asked Aemond.

“I’ve thought about it, and I know were young, but I want to keep the baby, you can be involved as much as you like-or if you don’t I understand” muttered Y/N.

“Of course, I want to be involved, yes I agree that were young, but I won’t turn my back on my child, I will be there for you every step of the way” urged Aemond.

“Y-You will?” gasped Y/N her eyes filling with tears.

“Just try and stop me” said Aemond smiling.

“I know a baby is huge responsibility but-“ said Y.N.

“-Your pregnant”

Y/N shot up from the sofa as she spotted Aegon standing in the doorway.

“Yes” replied Y/N as she glanced at Aemond who had also risen from his seat.

“Are you keeping it?”

“Yes, I am” said Y/N frowning.

“I guess it is the reason why you’ve been ghosting me for the last few weeks?” mused Aegon.

“The baby isn’t an it, Aegon” groused Y/N.

“What else am I supposed to call it-you do realise that I’m not ready to be a father, besides you always insisted that I wear condom so how are you pregnant?” asked Aegon.

Y.N took a deep breath to steady her nerves, it was now or never.

“Aegon-your not the father” said Y/N firmly.

“If I’m not the father-you’ve been screwing around behind my back?” snarled Aegon.

“Like you can take the moral high ground, especially after I walked in on you fucking my so called best friend” quipped Y/N.

“Y-You saw that?” muttered Aegon,

“Yes, I did, so don’t you dare make me out to be the bad guy” snapped Y/N

“I-It was a mistake, a onetime thing, I was drunk-please Y/N” begged Aegon.

“Typical Aegon, there’s always an excuse, you never accept responsibility for any of the shit things you do and I’m sick of it”.

“Y/N” gasped Aegon.

“No, we’re done” replied Y/N shaking her head.

Aegon bowed his head for a moment, almost as he was ashamed but then he glared at her and bared his teeth like a wild animal.

“Who’s the father?” asked Aegon.

“Does it matter?” muttered Y/N.

“Yes, it does.  NOW FUCKING TELL ME” balled Aegon as he seized Y/N by the arms and began shaking her.

“Aegon, let her go” urged Aemond as he inserted himself between his brother and Y/N and pushed him away.

“No, she’s fucked around behind my back and got pregnant, I want to know who’s bastard she carries” retorted Aegon as he went for Y/N again only to be blocked by Aemond.

“I’m the father” admitted Aemond.

There was an awkward moment of silence before Aegon went ballistic.

“YOU” shouted Aegon.

“Yes” replied Aemond.

“How long-HOW FUCKING LONG?”

“Since the night I saw you with Sara” admitted Y/N.

“Oh, so what, this was some type of revenge for me screwing your slag of a mate”.

“The first time was, but then-“

“-Then what?” demanded Aegon.

“I fell in love with him” whispered Y/N.

“Y-You love me?” asked Aemond, his breath hitching in his throat.

“Yes, I do” said Y/N smiling.

“I love you too” replied Aemond as he rested his forehead against Y/N’s.

“Wait a minute-All those times I heard you fucking someone in your room, it was her”.

“Yes” replied Aemond.

“Is this about Floris?” asked Aegon rounding on Aemond.

“You seriously think that I would stoop so low?”

“W-Who’s that?” asked Y/N.

“Oh, what’s this-don’t tell me she doesn’t know about your Baratheon bitch” snarked Aegon.

“Floris was my girlfriend, until I found her in bed with my brother”.

“You just can’t help yourself can you-sticking your cock where it doesn’t belong?” shrieked Y/N as she jabbed Aegon in the chest.

“She came onto me, obviously bored with his limp dick and mangled face” snarled Aegon as he reached into the cupboard and pulled out a half empty bottle of vodka.

“What did you just say?” questioned Aemond.

“I said-limp dick with a mangled face” snapped Aegon as he took a large swig of vodka.

“How can you be so cruel” exclaimed Y/N.

“It’s a gift” shrugged Aegon, once again raising the bottle to his lips.

“Say it again-go on, FUCKING SAY IT AGAIN” roared Aemond.

“Why-What you going to do you one eyed freak, you know Luke should have lowered his aim and slit your whiny cunt throat, done us all a favour” laughed Aegon.

“Aemond-NO” exclaimed Y/N as she was buffeted out of the way by Aemond who ripped the vodka bottle from Aegon’s hand and threw it across the room. The glass bottle exploded as it came into contact with the wall.

“You fucking frea-” shrieked Aegon reeling backwards as Aemond punched him in the face.

Aegon quickly rose from the ground and tackled his brother, both of them falling the floor with a heavy thud.

“You-fucking-cunt” breathed Aemond as one of Aegon’s punched connected with his nose.

“If anyone is the cunt here, its you” wheezed Aegon as Aemond managed to knee him in the stomach.

“Aemond-please, stop” urged Y/N desperately, however he couldn’t seem to hear her, too lost to his rage as he repeatedly punched every bit of Aegon he could reach.

Y/N reached forward and pulled on Aemond’s t-shirt, suddenly he reared backwards, and Y/N was propelled away from the fighting brothers, she slipped on the remnants of spilled vodka and collided with the floor, landing awkwardly on her stomach.

At the sound of Y/N hitting the floor, Aemond quickly came back to his senses, his eye widening at the sight of her laying haphazardly on her side with a hand on her stomach.

Aemond levered himself off Aegon and immediately went to Y/N, crouching slowly beside her.

“Y/N-are you ok?” asked Aemond nervously.

“T-The baby” whispered Y/N, her lip wobbling.

“Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital” muttered Aemond as he wrapped his arms around Y/N and gently lifted her off the floor.

“Aemond I-“

“-Just to be on the safe side” said Aemond as he grabbed his car keys and guided Y/N out of the flat, completely ignoring Aegon was hunched over by the wall, his nose dripping with blood.

All the way to the hospital Y/N didn’t speak, even as they waited for the doctor to examine her, she remained silent.

Aemond felt terrible, he’d only just learned that Y.N was pregnant, what if his fight with Aegon had cost him his child, it made his insides twist uncomfortably at the thought.

The doctor eventually arrived and checked Y/N vitals and then she was sent for an internal scan.

Aemond held Y/N’s hand as the scan was performed, and he found himself praying to whoever was listening that their baby would be ok.

Aemond hadn’t prayed since he was a child, not since he lost his eye and had to suffer through multiple surgical procedures to correct the damage that his nephew had done. The last procedure was for his prosthetic eye and even that was an experience he wasn’t keen to repeat, he could still remember the feeling of the cold malleable substance that was poured into his empty socket.

Y/N squeezed his hand as a single tear ran down her cheek, and Aemond’s heart was on the cusp of breaking when the doctor finally gave them the news that their baby was fine.

Aemond let out a breath of relief and he pressed a kiss to Y/N’s hand as the doctor pointed towards the screen and showed them the tiny flickering heartbeat.

With orders to get some rest and stayed hydrated, Aemond took Y/N back to her flat, the printed picture of their baby safely ensconced in his wallet.

Still Y.N barely spoke as he helped her into bed and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

He could feel his mobile vibrating in his pocket, no doubt Aegon had been on the phone to their mother and lied through his teeth, but that was a problem for later.

“Stay with me-please” whispered Y/N.

“Ok” replied Aemond as he placed his keys, wallet, and phone on the beside table and toed off his boots before slipping into bed.

“Hold me” pleaded Y/N, her voice so soft and delicate.

Aemond didn’t need asking twice, he wrapped his arm around Y.N and pulled her towards him, his nose buried in her hair.

“I love you Aemond-” whispered Y/N.

“-I love you too” replied Aemond.

“Do you need to get that?” asked Y/N as the sound of Aemond’s phone vibrating echoed around the room.

“It’s my mother-no doubt Aegon’s told her his version of what’s happened so she’s probably ringing to give me an earful”.

“I-If you don’t want to go back to your flat, you always stay here for a bit” suggested Y/N, her voice small but somewhat hopeful.

“I’ll stay for as long as you’ll have me” exclaimed Aemond.

“Forever” whispered Y.N as she closed her eyes.

“Forever” repeated Aemond as he tightened his hold on Y.N and smiled softly.

His hand drifted towards her stomach and Aemond couldn't help but smile.

Their child was currently inside her, and he couldn't wait to see her stomach swell.

It was his seed that had taken root and bloomed into life and soon everyone would see, and they would all know that she belonged to him.

Just as she was always supposed too.

[ashboilol]

The Marauders: Bullies who sexually assaulted a person. Basically Draco Malfoy and his cronies who were shown the Light.

Fandom: Such feminists, I love them!

Draco: Human equivalent of garbage who bullied anyone with lower social status, and mocked an orphan. Also gladly joined the DE.

Fandom: So tragic! He had no choice, we love him! He deserved better.

Dursleys: Gross, shallow human beings who abused the orphan they were in charge of, and even starved that child (and only because Vernon's promotion was cancelled).

Fandom: They have a reasonable hatred, and Petunia is sympathetic!

Dudley Dursley: Actually apologizes for his behavior and abuse, unlike oh-so-great James Potter.

Fandom: Bad!

Ron Weasley: Brave kid who has commited countless selfless acts and protects his friends.

Fandom: Bad! Hermione deserved better! Wife beater! Predator! Hermione should have cheated on him with Harry!

Severus Snape: Also does brave, selfless acts, and is known by HIS ENEMY'S SON as the bravest man Harry ever knew. Proves he really loves Lily.

Fandom: Bad! He was obsessed with Lily and a creep and he stole Lily's patronus! He also bullied Neville!

Lavender Brown: Nice and caring, and gives Ron the affection he deserves. Also does countless brave acts, helps to round up Skrewts, and fights in the DA despite the danger.

Fandom: She should go, she is ruining our ships!1!1!1! (Side note: I do ship Romione, but this anti-Lavender bullshit should stop.)

Cho Chang: Cares about and loves her boyfriend, and simply wants to know how he died because she loves him. Also offers to take Harry to the Ravenclaw common room, and fights in the DA.

Fandom: So annoying, can't she stop crying about Cedric?

[starsstuddedsky]

Slice of Love

Haechan x reader

summary: birthday cake and boyfriend material

genre: fluff, non idol au, not really angst but haechan is so dramatic

warnings: swearing, food/dessert, i dont know anything about art, pls lmk if i missed any

wc: 1.8k (who is she???)

a/n: finally wrote something short and sweet :) it's been so long since i've done that lol. this is heavily inspired by 7dream cafe cake-making and my full belief that none of these boys should be unsupervised in the kitchen. thank you to @chocolatemilk139 for being my beta as always <3 (even though you didnt edit anything smh)

It’s not horrendous.

Donghyuck stares at the cake in front of him. The process started well: he made the tester cake last week week that the council (also known as his friends) approved with generous support (“wait, what’s actually kind of good,” from Jeno, “it’s edible,” from Renjun, “the hint of orange really sells it,” from Jaemin, “it’s not burnt so it’s already better than anything I could make,” from Mark, “you didn’t buy this?” from Chenle, and Jisung, who just stared at him with wide eyes). 

No, the problem isn’t the batter. He slaved over it all last night and chose the two cakes that rose most evenly in the oven. Everything but his tears went into making them. 

“Wow,” Renjun says, leaning over the counter. “You fucked up.” 

Donghyuck smacks him, leaving a trail of lavender buttercream on the wool sweater. 

“Hey, that’s going to be a bitch to get out!” Renjun cries. 

“Cry me a river,” Donghyuck says, “which is a good song, but also, you deserve it. It’s not that bad.” 

Renjun raises his eyebrows but Donghyuck raises a spoonful of extra frosting. Renjun backs off. 

Despite his strong defense, Donghyuck fears Renjun may be right. Though the cake stands tall, crumbs mix in with the frosting on the sides. What was supposed to be an artistically plump edging around the base of the cake and around the top corner looks like it exploded out of the piping bag (because it did, popping the cap off several times). In his head, the center would be filled with flowers and hearts and all sorts of pretty shapes in all sorts of pastel colors—but by the time he got to the center, he’d fully given up on piping bags, meaning he had to get creative for the flowers. Instead of flowers, he made blobs of frosting pushed off a spoon. In some spots he accidentally mixed the colors together, a green one shade away from brown, not at all like the field in the pictures on his Pinterest board. 

Jeno appears next, wandering out of his room. He misses Renjun’s warning glare, though Donghyuck doesn’t. He steps right next to Donghyuck, tilting his head. “What is this supposed to be again?” 

“What do you think?” Donghyuck asks evenly. 

Oblivious or uncaring, Jeno pauses to ponder. “A really ugly version of Shrek’s swamp?” 

“Get out.” 

“Get out of ma’ swamp!” Jeno attempts a Scottish accent, authenticity as questionable as the flower field in Donghyuck’s cake. Jeno retreats with Renjun on the couch, dodging Donghyuck’s frosting spoon. It would be a waste of the delicacy on his stupid dri-fit t-shirt, which he wears even when he doesn’t work out. 

“It’ll be fine,” Jaemin says. “It’ll taste good, which is the important part.” He sits at the counter, the only one to offer moral support while Donghyuck decorated. But his attempts at comfort are in vain; Donghyuck doesn’t just want the cake to taste good, he wants it to taste perfect, to look perfect, for all of it to be perfect. It’s the least you deserve. 

Donghyuck ignores the banging on his door, letting one of the guys let Chenle and Jisung in (no one else would threaten to break down a metal door instead of waiting the five seconds it takes to unlock the door). 

“We come bearing food!” Chenle shouts, plastic bag singing in his hand as Jisung follows precariously carrying a stack of pizza boxes. Far more food than needed, but Donghyuck won’t skimp out on you. Chenle tosses his bag full of snacks on the table, crossing the room to see the ‘masterpiece’ Donghyuck spent the past week hyping up. 

“Dude, are you seriously going to give that to YN?” 

“Are you trying to get dumped?” Jisung asks. “Ow!” he cries when Chenle smacks him. 

“Your welcome,” he says, “though he sort of has a point, that looks like literal shit.” 

“Does it really?” Donghyuck pouts. 

Chenle points at one of the browner spots. “You’re telling me that’s not a piece of shit?” 

“They were supposed to be flowers.” 

Jaemin, Renjun, and Jisung manage to cover their laughs as coughs but Chenle and Jeno let out a bark of laughter. 

“Yeah, you’re screwed,” Chenle says, clapping him on his shoulder that sags even lower than his normal bad posture. “You could call Mark and get him to pick up a cake on his way.” 

“He’s bringing YN,” Donghyuck says glumly. “Besides, I already told YN that I would make it myself. I’m not going to be a failure and a liar.” 

“It’s really not that bad,” Jaemin says, ignoring the chorus of dissent from the rest of the guys. “It’ll taste good!” 

Donghyuck shrugs. He can’t explain it, at least not so that they can understand him. He knows perfection is a subjective definition that he’ll never be able to fulfill but he strives for it anyway. If it isn’t perfect then why would he do it at all? Even if it’s his first time attempting this level of artwork, he should at least be able to make something that looks okay, or recognizable. 

And you—you deserve more than a dry store-bought mess and more than a half-assed attempt at love. You’ve only been together for a couple months but he’s determined to prove himself. A birthday was the perfect opportunity, even when you’ve known him for years and spent plenty of birthdays with him. This was his chance to show you the boyfriend material he’s made of, except instead of black velvet or creamy silk, Donghyuck thinks this cake is the work of a neon yellow polyester shirt worth less than $2 at the thrift store. 

“Mark just texted that he just parked,” Jaemin announces. He glances at Donghyuck. “You ready?” 

Donghyuck glances at himself. His hands are covered in frosting that’s dried and crusted, spread up his arms. His Kiss the Chef apron protected his shirt and most of his pants from the damage, but the mess is the least of his concerns. There’s nothing he can do about the disaster (he’s given up calling it anything else) in front of him. Shrek’s Swamp or a toilet bowl, it’s definitely not a flower field and it’s definitely not what you deserve. But it’s all he’s got. 

The final punch hits with a gentle knock at the door. Donghyuck crosses the room to his doom, stepping past his silent friends who bow their heads in respect for the walking dead. He pulls open the door slowly. He sees your shoes first, white sneakers you spent three hours with a Sharpie decorating, full of hearts and stars and unmistakable flowers—daisies and chrysanthemums and lavender, more than he can name. 

You wear your favorite jeans, loose bootcut that tighten at the thighs, hugging you in all the right places. A loose shirt hangs from your shoulders, one of the bands you always play for him with lots of bass and visceral lyrics that romanticize suffering. A family of silver earrings dangle from your ears, and he recognizes each of your favorites, the miniature swords, sparkling star shaped studs, a curly twist of metal that wraps around the higher part of ear. You look perfect. 

Donghyuck has always loved the way you smile, a gentle turn of your lips, like the happiness belongs to only you. You lean forward, pressing a short kiss to his lips, a peck more than anything. Donghyuck stares at you, eyes wide. You gesture to his apron. “Just following the rules.” 

He smiles though it fades as soon as he sees the frosting–no, the evidence of his failures, spread down the black fabric. “Happy birthday,” he says, wishing he could put more heart into it. A tiny frown furrows in your brow but you don’t question him. 

He steps back to let you walk in, trailing behind you as the rest of the guys wish you happy birthday. Mark catches up easily, clapping a hand on his shoulder, whispering, “Jeno sent me a picture.” 

Renjun hugs you, which Donghyuck belatedly realizes he never did. 

“I brought the food,” Chenle announces. “Don’t go thanking anyone else for my efforts.” 

“Our,” Jisung corrects. “You barely even carried anything.” 

“That’s because I had to drive,” Chenle says, waving his hand. “And don’t even get me started on the pizzeria, you better appreciate every molecule because—”

“Thank you, Chenle,” you say. 

“Thank me,” Donghyuck says. “It was my detailed instructions that perfected absolutely everything about today, which reminds me, did Mark behave?” 

You turn back to face him, linking your fingers with his. “Yes, babe, he followed your script. He almost cried because the barista messed up the order and he didn’t want to be annoying but he said you said ‘if anything goes wrong, I’ll kill you,’ and meant it.” 

“And I did,” Donghyuck says. He nods at his best friend for his service. 

“Now.” You squeeze his fingertips. “Where’s this cake you’ve been so excited about.” 

Donghyuck doesn’t try to hide his face. There’s no use delaying the inevitable. He lets go of your hands, leading you to the crime scene to lay the final verdict (the judicial system of his brain is in need of some reformation). 

You reach the counter and freeze. A list of concert dates greets Donghyuck, your back facing him while you study the cake. There’s no name for the opposite of a masterpiece, no artist that wants their worst creation recorded in history. 

He inches closer to you, peeking at your face. He recognizes the expression, the narrowing of your eyes, the way you flatten your lips. He’s been to enough art shows and spent enough time with you studying for art history to know what you analyze art. 

“It’s not Van Gogh or Monet,” he says, “it’s not even that asshole guy who made the Bean.” 

“Mm,” you hum, “no, you’re not any of them.” 

“It’s an ugly cake,” he says, “I know. I tried, I really did, but apparently you actually do need a decade or two of experience to make a decent cake, which is totally unfair, like, I spent more time on it than my research project, and this only looks marginally better than that.” 

“It’s amazing,” you say, “reminiscent of the expressionist era.” 

“Really?” 

“No,” you say, turning to grin at him. “But you made it, so none of that matters. Maybe it doesn’t look like what you thought, but seriously.”  You rest a hand on his arm. “It’s perfect.” 

He meets your eyes, sees sincerity and not an ounce of teasing. No, it wasn’t what he wanted for you, but that doesn’t really matter. Perfection is subjective and to you it’s perfect—why did he ever think it wouldn’t be? 

He grins. “Perfect?” 

You step closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him into a hug, ignoring the frosting that must be smearing across the band member’s faces. 

“Perfect.” 

a/n2: thank you for reading! as always, i appreciate any feedback :)

[who-knew-a-sheep-can-write]

Warmth in the Sheets: Bigby Wolf x Reader (Semi-NSFW)

He didn’t deserve something like this.

He didn’t deserve warmth and comfort for his despicable crimes against his own people, his own kind - if you could even consider any of them to be his own kind. Every time he even thought of that or even hear the mutter whispers of Fables on the streets, he would find himself smirking sarcastically ever so slightly.

Because they’re not his kind. None of them are his kind; his kind died when he was left alone after his mother passed and his brothers vanished. None of them knew what it was like to grow up the way he did, and because Fables - the ones who appear mostly mundy that is - judge him as though he were lower than them. They fear the unknown, and yet, they poke around in the darkness and act as though they’re innocent when the ugly truth comes barreling out (albeit as a giant wolf the height of a house). Princes and Queens and Fable royalty scoff and sneer at him as though he is their unruly guard dog.

But that’s what he is, isn’t he?

An unruly guard dog who has to beat the shit out of Fables who once ruled enchanted kingdoms and Fables who were the most popular and liked of all. Or as the plaque on his crumbling, cigarette-stained wall states: Sheriff of Fabletown.

But in all of the stenches that makes up lower Manhattan and the filth that Fables bring in from the mundy world, he had finally found a safe haven in all the spit and rot that was this cruel world.

Through softly patterned curtains, sunlight filtered through, seeping through the slightest part in the drapes to shine onto his eyes. Screwing them closed didn’t help, so the wolf simply let out a grumble deep from his throat and cracked his eyes open.

His body laid mostly naked, wrapped in the softest sheets he had ever felt, softer than how he remembers his mother’s fur. The bruises and scratches and scrapes had closed somewhere throughout the night, the aches had ebbed away into nothingness. He laid there in pure bliss, one of the few little luxuries he got when he didn’t stay in his crumbling apartment.

Bigby took in the scents of the cushioned pillow cradling his head, hints of soft lavender and roses dancing with a scent even nicer on his nose. The sheets were no better, smelling wonderfully, tickling his nose.

In this room, he had no need to reach for the crumpled cigarette carton and lighter that sat on the end table with his wallet and phone. In this room, he no longer felt the painful blows battered onto his solid body. In this room, for the first time in a very long time, he felt safe.

Bigby turned over, the sheets twisting at his cut waist and over his board back, the wolf no longer wanting sun in his eyes. He wanted something else in his field of view, to which he got immediately.

There was a figure in the bed with him, almost fully naked like himself with just underwear on. The blankets were barely covering anything, allowing Bigby’s eyes to roam. Wolfish brown eyes trailed the nape of the neck downwards, along the spine which had been slightly twisted by the sheets to the legs tangled in them. There were some marks on their back, some you barely would notice to ones that stated obviously what had happened the night before. From little bruises the size of quarters to red raised carvings down your back, the signs were all there.

The scent radiating off of them was heavenly, music to his nose. Their heartbeat in his ears was like a steady soft drumming.

Bigby reached a hand over the small space between his person and the other Fable in the room. Roughened fingers gently - the only time he was gentle really - wrapped around their shoulder, thumb rubbing small circles into the meat of their shoulder which earned him a small moan from their sleep. He would be lying if he didn’t feel slightly bad for waking them up, but it was only slightly.

He didn’t feel this with anyone before. He didn’t feel this with Snow.

He didn’t feel safe, he didn’t feel loved. He felt like he was being used if anything when it came to how Snow was with him.

But you; you actually cared. You were one of the few Fables who didn’t actively give him trouble or berate him or treat him like dirt. You didn’t judge him on his past, you didn’t poke and prod.

You twisted around too, the sheets now off, both of you finding it too warm in the room for them to be on the bed. Your eyes had peeked open just a bit, just enough for him to see the color of your irises through your fluttering eyelids as you blinked away the sleep and dreams.

He remembered when he first saw you for the first time since coming here. He had come to your apartment with questions about an unruly neighbor causing issues, and you had even invited him in for coffee.

He remembered when you two first kissed in the darkened hallway right outside of your apartment door, the neon lights from outside filtering in. You two had gone out to some bar to hang out and he had wanted to walk you back to your front door.

He remembered when you two first made love in your apartment, the aftermath was worse for you than him. The markings on your body were hard to hide and explain, and he enjoyed every second of it.

“Morning,” you purred, your voice still dripping with the clingings of sleep and exhaustion you attempted to shake off.

“Morning,” he echoed back.

His voice was still scratchy, dark and gravely. His eyes lingered down to your neck. There were red blotches on your throat, but his eyes mostly trained on the bite mark settled at the crook of your neck. Sure there were more marks all down the rest of your body but that was his favorite he left on you.

“Proud of your little art show?” you huffed sarcastically as you rubbed at the still sore bite mark. Bigby only growled softly, the wolfman snaked his hand down to your waist and dragged you in closer to him. He could feel the heat radiating off of his body bouncing off of you, no wonder why there was no need for the sheets if he was around. The corners of your lips curled into a slight smirk, Bigby could see it reflect in your eyes. His puppy brown eyes had tinged to a bright gold, his pupils had dilated to the size of near-pinpoints. He felt you shiver with lust under his grip. “My my, Mr. Wolf, how big your eyes are.”

Bigby jolted and had pinned you to your bed all of a sudden. His big hands and wrapped around your wrists and pinned them to the sides of your head while he straddled you by your waist. Your eyes were full of lust, he could smell it dripping off of you, it was all over in the air that he swore he could lick it. He leaned down, his grit teeth now a mouth full of sharpened teeth barely brushed over your sensitive neck.

“And how do you plan on explaining these?”

Before you could coyly ask him to elaborate, Bigby clamped his fangs down on the opposite shoulder, yanking out a pleasureful cry from you.

Bigby sat at the small kitchen table, carefully sipping scorching hot coffee as he eyed the news playing on the small tv on the kitchen counter. It was some mundy bullshit happening that weekend, some festival, Bigby didn’t really pay attention to that kind of crap. He just needed the background noise as he glanced back down at the file on the tabletop.

He was suddenly interrupted by a plate full of various breakfast foods being placed on top of the police file he was just looking at, everything still steaming with warmth and love.

“Police work can wait,” you hummed, handing him a knife and fork, “you need to eat.”

Bigby playfully rolled his eyes and took another sip of his coffee. You had turned back to the stove, allowing Bigby to catch a glimpse of you.

You were wearing one of his white button-ups unbuttoned with nothing else but socks and underwear on.

As Bigby took a big bite of food, he couldn’t help but close his eyes and just sit there.

In utter, unspoken delight, he knew he was safe and loved and happy.

And home.

[prythiansfavoritefox]

[ COMFORT ] 🪷 Elain 🪷

Lucien could not take it anymore. Bottling up all of his problems inside was killing him. He hated himself, he hated his life, he hated his fucking job. He hated that no matter what he did, Tamlin seemed to be so far out of his reach. The last time they'd spoken, Tamlin had given him a black eye. Cauldron boil him, he'd tried not to retaliate, but...something in him had just snapped. Everything that had happened to him over the past several months had just spilled over, and he'd set a driving punch straight into Tamlin's abdomen. Then he tunneled so deep down into that rage that he hadn't even noticed his fire swirling around him as he absolutely pummeled Tamlin. He had burned most of Tamlin's clothes off, and little burn marks peppered his skin. His own clothes, woven with magic fire-resistant cloth from Autumn, remained intact.

Lucien had known that whatever progress he might have made with Tamlin was undone the moment he had punched back. So frustrating-so unbelievably frustrating to have to deal with a broken High Lord and his court, yet no one cared. Feyre hadn't even asked about his eye. Not like Lucien had offered the information; he didn't trust Feyre or the Inner Circle as far as he could throw them. With information, he had no choice. But his feelings? He could keep them to himself and spare himself the hurt.

When he was in his small house in Velaris safely in bed, he let himself cry. Why had his life come to this? What had he done in a previous life to deserve this? Who was he kidding, playing emissary to the Night Court? He didn't belong here any more than he belonged in Spring. Gods, he missed Autumn. He didn't think that was something he'd ever say, but at least Beron had mostly left him alone. He was free to pursue his education, free to make friends amongst the gentry, free to practice his sword and read books and whatever else he was interested in. He loved being busy and visiting other courts, but considering a big part of his work was babysitting a miserable man who had in the latter stages of their relationship become abusive towards him, it was safe to say he'd much rather being doing anything else.

Sigh. He could probably do a ten times better job of ruling than any of these fools, but alas, he was stuck in this weak role of emissary, disrespected by all who associated with him. Not even his mate cared for him.

By the Cauldron, he missed Jesminda. The only person who had ever cared for him, chosen him.

At some point while crying, he fell asleep. Something tugged in his gut, and he found himself watching himself sitting beside a pond, bare feet dipped in the water, and next to him sat a stunningly beautiful brunette. Elain. His Elain. His mate who did not want him-

Lucien, she whispered quietly. This is just a dream, Lucien told himself, but it did not feel that way. No, that tug on his gut was very real.

She was wearing a long ruffled lavender dress with a pretty straw hat on her head. She held a matching basket, but when Lucien looked inside, there were only worms. Lucien jumped back.

"The Night Court gardens' soil is very poor, so I bred some ground worms to help replenish the nutrients," Elain said matter-of-factly, like she hadn't just said the most shocking thing ever. Lucien gaped at her. "You actually bred...?"

"Yes!" Elain said brightly. Then she gently put a hand on his shoulder, her big eyes full of concern. "You seem upset. Is there something wrong?"

Lucien snorted, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. "As if you care if something is wrong."

"Of course I care," Elain said insistently. "You are my mate."

"Do not condescend to me," Lucien replied sharply. "I know such things mean nothing to humans."

"But I am no human anymore," Elain said, trying to reach for Lucien's body again. He pulled away again, and he almost regret it looking at the hurt that formed in her doe-brown eyes. But she avoided him like the plague in daylight; was he wrong to return the favor?

"But you still adhere to the human culture and rules," Lucien pointed out.

"It doesn't matter what I adhere to!" Elain shouted exasperatedly. "It doesn't matter how much I tell myself the mating bond means nothing, when I cannot breathe every time you are near. It doesn't matter how much I resent it, how much I feel is the bond and how much is me, when all I can think of when you are close to me are thoughts improper for a lady."

Lucien blinked, heat creeping up in his face as he recalled the absolutely filthy thoughts in her mind as he'd tugged on the bond that one afternoon.

"Fine," Lucien muttered. "It was Tamlin. He's being grumpy and uncooperative. I know he's hurting, but goddamnit, he has hurt me. And Spring has to be up and running soon, else the land is ripe for the taking."

Elain tilted her head curiously. "Is that really all?" Lucien sighed, shaking his head. "No, that was just a culmination of all my frustrations thus far."

"I thought so," Elain answered quietly. "You bottle up your feelings when you are hurt. Throw yourself into your tasks instead rather than wallow about it or engage in self-destructive behavior."

Lucien blinked at her in surprise. "You have been watching me."

"Of course I've been watching you," Elain said as if it were obvious. "How could I not? But also...I understand. You and I are the same in that right, I suppose."

Lucien didn't know what possessed him to do such a thing, but he crawled forward and laid his head on Elain's lap. She looked down at him and smiled serenely, stroking his hair, his cheek, his chin. Then she bent down and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Rest darling," Elain said sweetly. "No one can hurt you here." She continued to stroke him gently as his eyes drifted off, and the rest of his sleep was deep and pleasant.

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 351.brb x oc

THIS CHAPTER IS 18+ IF YOU ARE A MINOR PLS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

a/n: :,) i just love them sm (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: rooster. also LOVE MAKING WOOO

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

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-

She hasn’t stopped smiling ever since they left her parents’ house. They got home at night time,  literally spent a whole day there, laughing, enjoying food, napping a bit because she was tired…and now she watched her husband from the door frame, watched as the white tee stretched on his shoulders a bit as he pours them some wine, “Wine,LC?” she asks, “This late?”

Rooster looked up from the wine bottle he was holding, a"Why not? A little late-night wine never hurt anyone. Plus, it feels like a perfect way to cap off such a wonderful day."

Beatrice smiled, her heart swelling with contentment. She walked over to him, feet bare"You know what, you're right. A toast to a perfect day."

He handed her a glass, their fingers brushing in a gentle exchange. The clink of the glasses filled the air as they made a silent toast, savoring the rich aroma of the red wine.

"To family, love, and the unexpected joys of life," Rooster declared, his eyes locked with Beatrice's.

"Cheers to that," she replied, taking a sip. The wine was velvety on her tongue, a perfect complement to the tranquil evening. They moved to the living room, settling on the couch with glasses in hand.

Beatrice curled up on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her. Rooster joined her, an arm casually draped over the backrest as he savored his wine.

"So," Rooster began, a smirk on his lips, "what's got you grinning like the Cheshire Cat all day?"

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Rooster raised an eyebrow, "Come on, gorgeous. You've been smiling from ear to ear since we left your parents' house. Spill the beans. What's making you so happy?"

Beatrice chuckled, unable to suppress her joy. "Okay, okay, I'll spill. It's just… she sighs, happily “ being with everyone today, with my family, with you—it made me realize how incredibly fortunate and happy I am. I have this amazing family, a wonderful husband, and a life that feels like a dream sometimes."

Rooster's expression softened as he listened to her words. "You deserve all the happiness in the world, gorgeous. I'm just glad to be a part of it."

She leaned into him, her head finding its familiar spot on his shoulder. "You are a huge part of it, Roos. I couldn't ask for a better partner in this crazy journey."

He pressed a tender kiss to the top of her head.smiling against the brown tresses. "I feel the same way. Every day with you is a gift." he sighs, the lavender in her hair entering his nostril and he felt at peace, “...also, your mom forgot I got the promotion,huh.”

“She did.”

“Yeah…she screamed so loud I think it woke the dogs.” he hums,  “And she cried a lot.”

Beatrice chuckled at the thought, hugging his arm with the one that wasn’t holding the glass. "Well, she's always been the emotional type. I'm pretty sure the entire neighborhood knows about your promotion now."

Rooster grinned, "Should I expect a neighborhood-wide celebration or just a congratulatory cake from your mom?"

"Knowing her, it could be both," Beatrice replied, laughing. "But seriously, Roos, I'm so proud of you. You've worked hard, and you absolutely deserve this promotion."

His smile widened at her words. "Thanks, baby. It means a lot to hear that from you. And your family's reaction...I wasn't expecting that level of excitement."

"It's not every day they have a son-in-law climbing up the military ladder," Beatrice teased, nudging him playfully. “Besides,you know how they are, of course they’d be over the top,Roos.”

Rooster chuckled, his eyes reflecting a mix of amusement and gratitude. "Well, I'm honored to be the cause of such excitement. Your family has always been incredibly supportive, and I couldn't be more grateful for that."

Beatrice nestled closer to Rooster, her hand tracing absent-minded patterns on his chest. "You know they love you just as much as I do.” she whispers, inhaling his cologne and then looking up when he got quiet, ‘...Roos?”

He tried,feebly so, to hide his tears, wiping them with his fingers, “I’m fine,gorgeous.”

Beatrice, concern etching her features, propped herself up on an elbow to look at Rooster. "Hey, what's going on?" She reached out to gently wipe away a stray tear on his cheek.

Rooster took a deep breath, managing a shaky smile. "Sorry, it just hit me. The combination of the promotion, your family's reaction, and... I don't know, I guess it's a lot of emotions all at once."

She scooted even closer, her fingers lightly tracing soothing patterns on his arm. "It's okay, Roos. Emotions are a part of life, and there's no need to apologize for feeling them."

He nodded, taking a moment to collect himself. "I just... I never imagined I'd be here, surrounded by such love and support. It's overwhelming, in the best possible way." he frowns, sniffling again and groaning with annoyance, “With everything that went down I–”

Beatrice smiled tenderly, her gaze filled with understanding. "You've come a long way, Roos, and you've earned every bit of this. Your hard work, dedication, and the love you've given and received—it's all you.”

He sighed, letting the weight of her words sink in. "Sometimes, it just feels surreal, you know? Like I'm afraid I'll wake up, and it'll all be a dream."

"Well, I can assure you, it's very much real," she said, her voice gentle, because boy oh boy,does she know what he means. "You're not dreaming, I promise you"

Rooster's eyes locked onto hers,brown irises moving all over her face. "I love you, Beatrice. More than words can express."

Her heart swelled with affection. "And I love you, Roos. More than words can express.” she smiles, cupping his cheek, “I worry about you, handsome.” he laughs softly, wiping his eyes again and Beatrice took that moment to set her glass aside and slowly climb on his lap,  sitting atop of his thighs with her arms on his neck, “I truly do.”

He stops sniffling for a few seconds, then drops his hands on her hips - glass of wine immediately forgotten - when he feels her warmth on his jeans, “I know…I’m okay gorgeous.” he smiles, rubbing her chin with his thumb and leaning back on the couch, “...I like this view.”

Beatrice chuckled, a warm, melodious sound that echoed in the quiet living room. She shifted slightly on his lap, finding a comfortable position, and leaned in, her lips hovering near his ear. "Well, if you like this view, maybe we should make it a regular occurrence."

Rooster grinned, and the hands on her hips tightened their hold "I wouldn't mind that at all. It's the best seat in the house."

She planted a soft kiss on his cheek. "And the best company, too."Beatrice, still perched on Rooster's lap, traced the contours of his face with her fingertips, savoring the closeness. “It is a great view.”

“Trying to make me4 blush?”

“Is it working?”

His eyes squinted a bit, the dimples on his cheeks becoming prominent as he smiles. “...maybe.” he slides the hands from her hips to her thighs, feeling where the fabric ended and skin began, “A little yes.”

Beatrice's fingers continued their delicate exploration of Rooster's face, tracing the contours of his strong jawline and lingering on the scruff that adorned it. Rooster, in turn, relished the sensation, his eyes locked onto hers "I could get used to this," Rooster admitted, his voice a soft murmur. "Just you and me, enjoying the quiet moments."

“Well,it’s been a while since we had the time to sit down and…relax.”

Rooster nodded, his hands gently caressing her thighs as he reveled in the proximity. "Agreed. Life gets so busy, “she feels his fingers going tap, tap,tap, on her skin, drawing shapes as he speaks, “...and I missed you so much.”

"I missed you too, Roos," she confessed, her voice a tender murmur. "Life does get crazy, but moments like these make everything worthwhile."

Rooster's fingers continued their rhythmic dance on her thighs, "Hmmm…” and his eyes drop down from her lips, to her neck and then to her chest, seeing it rise and fall as she breathed in and out, “...yeah…yeah true.”

“You are not even paying attention,Roos.”

Rooster's gaze snapped back to her eyes. "Guilty as charged. But who can blame me when there's such a beautiful distraction sitting on my lap?"

"Flatterer. You always know how to turn a situation around."

He grinned, his hands now settling on her hips again, providing a comforting warmth. "Well, when you have the most beautiful distraction in the room, it's hard not to get a bit distracted." he smirks, leaning closer, “And I love turning you around too.” his hands slide down to her ass where he cupped both cheeks with gusto, groaning when his palms were filled by her flesh, “Fuck,”

She gasps softly, watching as he dropped his face on her chest and she had to admit…she missed him too and sitting on his lap was already doing things inside of her. She did use a dildo, but once you have someone - once you have a Rooster - she could orgasm but it wasn’t the same.

She feels his teeth gently scraping the upper side of her left breast and his tongue following the cleavage before he moves his lips up,kissing where her neck met her shoulder with a happy hum, “You still taste really good…”

Beatrice’s eyelids dropped a little and she tried to hear if the dogs were coming over or if the baby monitor squeaked with activity, but she heard only silence. Her shoulders dropped in relief just in time for her husband’s large hands slide under her shirt until he reached her bra strap, tongue still trailing up and down her neck, “Roos…”

“Yeah?”

“We better go to the bedroom–” she squeaks in surprise because he immediately picked her up, bouncing her body in his hold to keep her steady as he walks to the staircase, all the while kissing her neck, sucking the skin enough for a red hickey to bloom on her skin.

Beatrice gasps his name, her nails gently scratching his nape as he tried, quietly, to go to their bedroom without waking anyone. She couldn’t remember the last time they had sex, which was a god damn mistake since there was no way she’d forget him.

They got inside the room and Rooster blindly locked the door, his saliva glistening her neck and chest before he sets her down, only to slam their lips together. The absence, from both sides was finally hitting, and hitting hard.

Bea moans into his mouth, feeling his hands cup her cotton shorts and then pull on the elastic, “Take ‘em off.” he breathes against her lips, pressing hot kisses on her skin, “Get all nice and naked for me,gorgeous.”

And he’s looking at her so hungrily she only nods and smiles, backing towards the bed while keeping her eyes on him. She wished she could remove her clothes and remain gazing at her husband’s body, because that man was carved out of marble. He is naked within seconds saved for his dark briefs that now were just a bit tented, “...how long were you–”

“Ever since we started drinking.” he replies, chest heaving, “...c’mere.” he doesn’t give her enough time to react because he kisses her again, his hands sliding under her cotton shorts to slide them down her thighs.

She moans into his mouth as he grabs her ass again, digging his digits into her ass cheeks and leaning back just enough to slap it. The sudden crack echoed all around the room and Rooster swallows her surprised moan, his hand moving to her front. Beatrice gasps into his mouth as his fingers slide inside of her by just pulling her panties’ crotch to the side.

He’s so very pleased when his fingers immediately feel the moistness inside. “You are already so wet for me.” he coos, kissing his way over her ear, mustache scratching her skin as she leans into him, breasts squished against his chest as she feels his calloused digits moving in and out of her.

He can feel the dribble sliding down his hand and he bites his lower lip, because he missed this so very much. And normally, he’d be all up for foreplay but– “Roos,please,” she gasps, hips moving against his hand, “Please,I just need you…r-right now.”

Oh.

Well.

Who was he to deny her?

He has to breathe in to calm himself down, slowly pulling his fingers out - the gentle squelching wasn’t missed by either of them - and licking them clean, he just watches with lust heavy eyes as she smiles - god he loved her smile - and gives her back to him to remove her bra.

“I don’t know why i’m so nervous.”

He flicks his eyes back up at her, seeing how she suddenly hugged herself. Oh that wouldn’t do. He is quick to get rid of his briefs and step behind her,pulling her hair to the side so he could kiss her neck, moaning in pure raw need when her cheeks just wrap around his member as he steps forward “Wha-why are you– fuck – nervous?”

“I don’t know.” she repeats, “I think it’s because it’s been a while since we,” and his hands cup her breasts, fingers pinching her nipples and squeezing the soft flesh, “W-We had…s-sex….oh god.”

He smirks, moving his hips slowly, grinding his cock against her ass, “I love you.” he whispers, “All of you. You still look as fucking sexy as I remember.” he kisses her shoulder, “How do you want to do this?”

Her whole body is on fire, but she replies, “I missed having you on top of me.” she whispers, biting her lower lip when she feels his smile on her skin, his hands sliding down to the love handles on her hips. 

“Well,” he coos, “Get comfortable,gorgeous.”

She wastes no time in stepping forward and falling on the bed, grabbing a pillow to get comfortable and so she could see him better. He looked unreal, like a full body illusion with the sexiest swagger she had ever seen. She bites her lower lip again, flushing just enough to make him smile as he settled on top of her.

He kisses her lips, then her cheekbone, before he nuzzles their noses together, “Wanna do the honors?” he asks while gently prodding her entrance - his gland latches on the opening for a second before it pops out again, and Beatrice whimpers while nodding.

He doesn’t know why but feeling her wedding band touching him as she align his member to her entrance was unbelievably hot. He just keeps his eyes on hers, those green irises shining with unshed tears and those pink,glossy lips of hers parting as she finally achieves it…and he pushes forward.

Honestly it’s a feeling both missed and it’s hard for them to control how good they feel. He wastes no time in interlacing their hands together and pulling them above her head. Eyes still locked as his hips move. He watches her micro expressions, the way her lips part into his name, how she whispers it so reverently but as quiet as a mouse.

Rooster is mesmerized. He always is, honestly, when it comes to Beatrice. He’s so happy. he’s so happy. He couldn’t explain but the way this woman made him feel was out of this world. His hips meet hers and he’s slow, he’s languid, he wants both to njoy this, he wants both to remember how they felt to one another.

Her wetness was comforting and warm and nice. Nice, perfect, perfection.

Beatrice was perfection.

She gasps again, a bit louder and she bites her lower lip. He knows that the flesh will be redder because of the blood rushing under there. He knows there’ll be indentations from here her teeth dug into, he knows he’ll kiss those indentations over and over because he loves her.

He had planned for something else right now, but he didn’t care. He smiles so much when her eyes focus on his and those pearly whites greet him. He moves a bit faster and her breasts shake because of it, but he’s so latched on her face.

She mouths a very quiet ‘what?’ between moans and he shakes his head. He doesn’t know what other adjectives could be said to describe her right now. He missed her, missed this, missed them. Maybe it was the whole M thing, the whole investigation but…for a second he thought he wouldn’t be able to…well.

He drops his head on her shoulder, letting go of her hands for a second so he could wrap his arms around her waist while her own arms were around his shoulders. His hips moved faster, the gentle slapping of skin against skin was loud enough for them to hear but only them. He digs his fingers on her ribs, feeling the soft flesh dip under the pressure, he wants to keep her there.

He knows he’s about to orgasm but he doesn’t care. And seeing how Beatrice got her own before his was enough of a reason for him to let go. He does so by lifting his head and pressing his forehead to hers, mouth parted, panting heavily, “I love you.”

“I love you too Roos.”

“I love you so much.” he furrows his brows, moving his hips faster, “I love y–” he swallows his groan when his orgasm hits and teeth clench  as the shudder goes up and down his spine. Her soft hands caressed the back of his head, up and down, playing with the golden brown waves as he stutters with aftershocks.

He doesn’t move. Neither does she. He just inhales her sweet scent and keeps it to memory.

“i’m gad it’s you he thinks

I’m glad it’s you too. she thinks at the same time.

I’m glad it’s us.

[moonlightdancer26]

What do you think of Lavender becoming a werewolf?

I. FUCKING. LOVE. IT.

GIMME A PARVENDER FIC WHERE LAVENDER SURVIVES BUT BECOMES A WEREWOLF AND HAS SUPER ANGSTY MOMENTS WITH PARVATI, AND BONUS POINTS IF LUPIN LIVES AND HELPS HER COPE WITH HER NEW CONDITION AND THEY CAN BOND OVER IT!!!!!!!!

*starts screeching*

[sn4pe]

Forever a Lavender Brown apologist. She deserved sm better.

[sincerely-sofie]

Fast question, what are TPiaG characters’ favorite colors??

I’ll do you one better— their favorite colors and their favorite colors to combine with that color! Plus the favorite colors of some side characters.

Twig loves pink— in particular, that one shade of peach-tinted pink that pairs really nicely with cool-toned golds. She swears up and down that it’s because she likes to watch the sunrise and her favorite ones to watch are especially pink, but Celebi claims that Twig once told her as a young human that she liked pink because that’s what color her bestest friend Celebi is. They will never agree on who is telling the truth.

Kip likes harvest yellow and warm, autumnal oranges. He loves the fall season, and that little window of time where the trees around Treasure Town are full of yellow leaves before they change further is his favorite.

Celebi likes spring green and the pale, barely-blue shade of white that clouds are on mostly clear days— in general, she likes a wide variety of colors so long as they’re bright and “fresh” feeling.

Grovyle likes the shade of blue that the sky turns just before sunrise and the mottled browns of leaf litter. He’d struggle to identify his favorite colors, though.

Dusknoir likes brown and gray. This sounds extremely boring until you learn he specifically likes the brown of rich, healthy soil and the warmer, speckled gray tones of rocks outside of the Dark Future. They’re two very distinct shades of gray to him. No one else can pick them out from each other besides him.

Ark likes midnight blue and silver. There’s little rhyme or reason to this beyond him just liking moon-coded colors. He enjoys pastels in general as well.

Cresselia didn’t enjoy any color in particular before a few centuries ago, where she discovered a fondness for the shade of red blackberries stain your fingers and the light, almost minty shade of green of the stems that sprout off of their canes.

Sen likes slate gray and that one highlighter color that no one can identify where it lies between the spectrum of yellow and green.

Lucky likes lavender and cream, and will get flustered when someone points out that she specifically likes the shades of lavender and cream that Acai, the aipom on Kip’s archeology team, has on her fur. She likes them separately, she swears!

Neri likes the shade of red that red grapes are. She says she likes it because it looks yummy and that it’s the best color ever, no contest. No color deserves to be paired with it.

Lyra loves vibrant, fiery red and bright, neon yellow. Her room is a bit of an eyesore once her mom says she’s old enough to decorate it exactly how she likes.

Opal is too young to voice a favorite color, but she seems to prefer blue toys over toys of similar types and differing colors.

[jewishbarbies]

I didn't know about the antisemitism in hp because while I wasn't explicitly taught "this is antisemitic" I still learned those tropes. I just didn't know they they were tropes. The only thing I knew was nazi propaganda, because that was in textbooks. We didn't learn about everyday antisemitism. We didn't learn about the history of jews in any other country. And that doesn't excuse me or the school I went to. But I know better now, and I can look around and recognise certain tropes. But I can also recognise that jkr was hateful to so many different groups of people. Jews, the Irish, asian people, gay people, trans people, ironically women in general (Ginny Weasley in particular who only existed as a character for Harry to save and get married and have babies with) and women who like "girly" things (Lavender Brown deserved better.)

at this point, so much of pop culture is steeped in these antisemitic things (tropes, imagery, caricatures, etc.) and a lot of fantasy lore in some areas is just antisemitic to its core so while I’m angry I have to sift through the distressing nonsense, I try not to get angry at people who genuinely don’t understand. because you can spread antisemitism while not being an antisemite. the entirety of the witch aesthetic is stolen and twisted from jewish caricatures, antisemitic history, and practices appropriated from indigenous cultures - but that’s just The Witch now. same with goblins. that’s just what That Thing is to people now, so if you want to stop it, you have to throw the whole thing away and barely anyone is actually willing to do that. on top of that, they believe they don’t have to.

with HP specifically, I don’t blame anyone for not picking up on the bigotry from the books they read as children. now, if you reread it as an adult and still don’t get it, that’s another issue. but at least with the antisemitism, it’s much more obvious with the movies and a lot of people try to excuse JKR from it bc of that, when she had such a heavy hand in making those films. she had/has enough sway to change literally anything. and I think a lot of people understood the antisemitism more when they could see just what these goblins were supposed to look like, and that brought it all together. however, there are people obsessed with goblins (I think there’s a lot of neurodivergent people who have a special interest in goblins for one reason or another and that makes it more difficult to let go, in my experience) who absolutely refuse to come to terms with the antisemitic nature of the creature to begin with, when it’s antisemitic originally AND in JKR’s interpretation. I never got into HP so I didn’t know about the goblins, having not seen the movies, and it was really easy to not interact with it once I did. I can genuinely understand how heartbreaking it is to find out something you love goes against what you believe in, bc for jews it’s just part of our lives. we find out creators of and the things we like are nazis or antisemitic every single day. moreso than usual as of late.

imo the racism and general bigotry of JKR should be more than enough for HP fans who claim to care about other people, but it’s hella odd that antisemitism is the sticking point for so many people. they’ll say they’re streaming the movies and playing the games and reading the books but but but they’re not giving money to JKR and therefore not supporting her transphobia and racism, but you mention her antisemitism and the fact that the HP game was just antisemitism the simulator and they immediately dismiss it. her bigotry is embedded in the work. it’s in the imagery of the franchise. hell, there’s a storyline where a villain is a villain bc he wanted to stop the holocaust. that speaks for itself, and should be enough for literal adults.

(on the It’s The Thing Now point, it’s happening with lizard people as well. everyone is calling themselves a goblin and making lizard people jokes and it’s just apart of the young people dialogue now. I could go on for hours but I think I made my point.)