#you genuinely deserve a prize for that

[maxphilippa]

i think that the major misinterpretation that people have with taco is that she didn't get attached to mic because of her sad face in the end wanted to show regret because "she hurted her friend". like. no, she wasn't sad because she regretted what she did. she was sad because she's alone again, but she knows very well at the end that she had it coming. the reason as to why taco was so desperate of wanting mic to tell her that she did gain something is because. she SAW pickle in mic, but of course their situation is very different. "Oh but Taco couldn't have done what she did to Mic to Pickle, Mic was fully aware" but she did do that. Mic herself says it. That is pretty much what II is telling you. Taco isn't a good friend, and is not exactly a good person either. Mic was aware that Taco was/is a bad person, but Mic's nature makes her believe in whoever acknowledges her. Taco made Mic feel like she needed her, just the way she made Pickle feel back in s1.

she didn't really change thanks to mic. her faces of "regret" aren't her actually lamenting all of the stuff she did to microphone, but rather just her realizing that she proved what everyone said about her as a result. i will give it to that she might've tried to change, but not because of mic. she wanted to win the prize so she could prove others wrong on her being a loser and a coward, by being a loser and a coward. if anything, mic made her realize that she hasn't changed. she pretty much just ruined everything for everyone who saw her as a friend, and for herself.

taco's whole arc is constantly just downgraded to questionable takes and listen. i do agree that she is heavily flawed as a character. she is morally gray, but ii doesn't portray her as a good person with good intentions, nor she should be really be treated as if she was. neither she had those good intentions with mic at all, i mean, their "friendship" pretty much started because of taco wanting the prize money, taking a part of microphone's prize if she made mic won, you know, an offer. she would get the prize and mic would get recognition. but everyone seems to forget that probably, the main reason as to why she's doing all of this, is because she does regret how she acted on s1. she doesn't exactly regret doing all of that to microphone, and even if she does, it's for the wrong reasons. (that's because she did the exact same thing to you know, pickle, her once best friend, the only person she truly ever cared about)

people do tend to forget that taco keeps sending letters to pickle, and that's often just used for pickle angst and making it his only character trait, but. it's not that. it's the fact that taco keeps on writing those letters, despite fully knowing that she did hurt pickle because of her actions. taco's biggest flaw is that she can't accept that she has ruined everything and wants so desperately to be back on pickle's life because she ended up caring about him deeply as a person. as a friend. but she was never there at all, either.

taco can't seem to understand that she has hurted people badly. sure, she seemed like a "friend" to microphone, and you can argue whatever you want but a fact is that taco IS smart, and she knew that the only way to possibly keep mic by her side is pretending to want to be better, you know, the same way she pretended to be just a odd fella so pickle and her could remain together and have an advance at the game. she played with both of them. because both pickle and mic believed in her but were just used by her for the game.

however, taco does seem to regret the way everything went during-post s1. you can see how she yearns for another chance and is saddened about not getting it, but that's not only for comedic purposes, but that's because the writing is telling you that she won't get a second chance. at least not here.

what i want people to understand is that, yes, taco is a complex character, however trying to sugarcoat what she did is pretty much missing the point of her writing as a whole. she isn't a good person neither was she a good friend. she hasn't grown because she was never able to let go of something that she thinks that she can fix with some words and a prize. she thinks that she can still fix her friendship with pickle, she thinks that she can clear her name (even if she was the one who tainted it), but she only ended up proving knife right. she proved everyone right. she hasn't changed. a morally gray character is that. they're not exactly fully bad or fully good, but it's taco's actions that speak a lot. words are cheap, and taco's title is "The Liar", and that says a lot, because she kept on lying to microphone and to pickle on both of their games. she won't heal unless she lets go.

and i want to be clear here: i do think that taco can go through redemption. i do think that taco can become a better person, but not in the way people portray her to do so. because it just pretty much goes against what her arc has settled in for us, and the other arcs that were involved in hers as well.

taco's arc is meant to be somewhat a parallel with nickel's in a way. hell, even with knife's arc if anything. she treats knife as a simple bully, but when she saw that he became smarter and way more emotionally aware than what she had expected, she felt attacked by that, because he was stable. he became a better person and he was rubbing that on her, and it made her feelings of anger way worse regarding him, but it is true. knife is pretty much everything that taco wants to be, but here's the thing that made them so different:

knife stayed. taco didn't stay.

knife is accepted by everyone in the hotel because meanwhile he hasn't explicitly said that he had a change of heart, he has shown it through actions and a big difference too is that he was there for pickle, even if they weren't close in s1, and taco is on the woods because deep down she is aware that she can't go back. not if she doesn't have something to offer as an direct apology, but here's the problem. whether or not she got the prize, she still wouldn't get forgiven by anyone due to what she said that day.

again. her problem is not being able to let go and to accept when she has messed up badly. she has been lying to everyone but she has also been lying to herself as a whole. she can't keep on doing this because it's just hurting everyone and herself. keeping grudges and holding onto past friendships that were doomed to fall is just hurting her. she is not on the state to keep on trying, she wasn't at all ever.

taco's arc most likely will have closure on a way that fits her character, and i feel like that would be with her letting go of inanimate insanity as a whole and of what she can't fix anymore. her trying to find herself after years of lying to everyone and to herself. she's not a good person. but she can become one. only if she knows what she did was wrong and that her second chance isn't there, and never will be, and if she recognizes that meanwhile she did that damage, she can still become a better person. just not there.

pickle and mic don't owe her anything, especially pickle. taco does owe them an apology, but they won't accept that. the least she could do is to accept their wishes, understand that she needs to leave them and grow to be a better person. maybe, if she does that, she would actually heal.

she doesn't need anyone to fix her. she needs to fix herself.

[angelwithdemonictendencies]

he set my house on fire, you lit my heart ablaze; when the smoke cleared, you stayed, coughing up ash with me.

jh86 x reader: the revenge plot doesn't go as planned (ft. ex-fiance am34).

(warnings: blasphemous filth (it's on the tamer side, i think), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), spit and descriptions of bodies and stuff like that, hair pulling (big fan), lots of talk about toxic relationships and being mean and using people and sad moments (we can thank this fictional am34 for that), oh, and slight bullying of tz11). idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: hello, favorites. thank you so, so much for your patience and softness. today i bring you a story that took me so, so long because i worked so, so hard on it (and it's really long! 14k worth). we have checked all the boxes: terrible ex-fiance am34, sweet boy jh86, schemes and plots and the like. no, i don't think any of these characters are like this in real life. no, nobody acts like this, but it's getting colder, so i think a lot of us are craving that gentle domesticity. and yes, i wish someone had shown up with flowers after i finished undergrad midterms. there's probably a ton of plot holes but shh! don't tell anyone. also tried out a new format, the smut is in the middle instead of the end, let me know how you feel about that. anyways, i miss you and i love you and i think of you often and fondly. i hope you and your snakes are doing well and knowing what you deserve and accepting nothing less. let me know what you think, what you want next, etc. go canucks, of course. oh, and no, i do not think it's a coincidence that all the guys i write about are having a great season so far (except the ducks that refuse to play). how could it be? definitely a causal connection. all my love to you. until next time).

since you were a young girl, you had known that your greatest motivation, your deepest truth, perhaps your fatal flaw, was just how deeply you felt.

when you were little, that meant tears came easily, anger festered like weeds in a prized garden, and happiness felt like flying.

it also meant you could read others' emotions almost as clearly as your own.

it made you different, it made you a good friend, it made you the person you were. for much of your life, you had made peace with the fact that your well of emotions went deeper than others. you had loved that part of yourself, even.

but the night you broke off your engagement to auston matthews, you wanted nothing more than for everything you were feeling to disappear, to evaporate into the air as if it had never been.

"you couldn't've at least tried to hide it from me?" you had said, willing your fragile voice not to break.

and he had sat at the kitchen counter, that massive body on the stool that you had carefully selected for the house that you shared, that you thought you would share forever. and he had sighed, sounded almost annoyed. "would that have made it better, angel?"

his indifference coated your bones like lead paint. that name, once one you felt would call you out of a coma, would lead you out of hell like a northern star, now felt like nothing but a condescending, patronizing taunt. silly, stupid angel, the god might as well have said, how could you think you could ever be enough?

understanding settled like ash on your eyelashes. "you think i'll forgive you," you said, little more than a whisper. "you think i won't leave."

he scoffed at that, then. at you. "and go where?" he asked, sounding almost genuine. "where do you have to go?"

how superficially he knew you, it seemed, at that moment. how had you not seen this before?

"you honestly think i could ever look at you the same?" you asked.

he shrugged, his shoulders so imposing, stature so suddenly frightening. a body you knew better than your own, suddenly foreign. a ghost. "maybe differently, but still looking," he said, "your eyes have only ever followed me, angel."

and maybe he was right, but you were done proving him so.

"send my things to my parents' place," you said, cold, devoid of anything. emotion welled up in you like a flood, but you froze it before it could crest through your mouth, come out like some mythical fire-breathing dragon. you slipped off your ring, placed it on the counter.

you didn't feel lighter without it, though. you felt so devastatingly heavy, like cinder blocks were tied to your ankles, like liquid stone filled your head.

"are you kidding?" he asked. to your silence, careful pause, he tilted his head, shook it once. "you're just gonna quit?"

your hands were shaking. you could feel rage rattle through your body, shake your bones. you clenched your fist so tightly you wondered if blood would drip from your palms, stain the light hardwood floor that you had spent so long deciding on. "how dare you," you said, begging your quivering lip to still.

his smirk was cruel. "not like it matters," he mused. "you've never been able to quit me."

you had seen him mean. on the ice, sometimes to journalists, sometimes to fans, sometimes to you, even. but this was past mean. this was past elementary bullying, past joking insults that don't land. he was trying to call your bluff, trying to push you into forgiveness, trying to hurt you.

"watch me," you said, your voice made of ancient rock.

"are you mad because she's hotter than you?" he asked, his brow contorted in false concern. "is that it?"

despite yourself, a small smile pulled at your mouth. a smile that made your eyes glitter. a smile that should have scared him. a warning.

"she is beautiful," you conceded, because she was. what good would it do you to deny that? you approached him, then, in his personal space for what you believed would be the last time. he turned to you, your eyes meeting in a clash, like sword on sword. cruel, brutal arrogance and pure, pretty wrath. you held the side of his face in one palm, the other hand resting on his shoulder. "but when a beautiful person hits on me, auston, i say no."

his eyes flickered down to your mouth, simmering with lust. you laughed at this, at him, raw and true, let pity soak your tone like acid. "i'm not mad at her, auston," you admitted truthfully. "i'm not even mad at you." you patted his cheek, perhaps a little harder than you needed to. "i'm just so disappointed."

that had been weeks ago. you had moved back to the states, so embarrassed on the plane at how you couldn't stop the tears from flowing, until finally you were back with your parents in new jersey. they had welcomed you so warmly, so easily. it had taken a few weeks for the tears to finally slow, for the utter devastation to fade, for your red eyes to brighten again.

at first, it had been hard to remember anything but how his embrace felt like home, how tightly he hugged you after games, how his eyes shone when he laughed, how he had teared up when you had accepted his proposal, how he had gushed about picking the right ring.

but as the sadness faded, as it festered into something much more serious, you remembered less of the fairytale moments, less of his perfect smile, less of the "pretty girl" utterances in his rough bedroom rasp. soon the sadness gave way to steely rage, to an almost bloodthirsty need for revenge. for him to hurt the way he had hurt you.

and no one does bloodthirsty like a group of university-age girls. after catching up with your childhood friends, and getting them caught up on your situation, you looked at your confidants with eager eyes. "what do i do?"

your best friend from high school spoke first, banging her fist on the table. "burn his house down?" she offered. "steal his dog?"

her friend from college put a gentle hand over her fist, "i think for now we try to avoid the federal crimes," she said, then turned to you. "when my ex cheated on me, i got with the lead singer of his favorite band." her eyes shimmered. "and then bought his dream car and wrapped it pink."

you giggled in delight. "oh, you're good."

your childhood friend nodded. "phycological warfare." she looked at you. "who's his idol?"

you thought for a moment, tapped your fingers on the table. "i don't know if idol is what i should be going for," you thought out loud.

"who's someone who would make him uncomfortable? insecure?"

"his dad!" your friend said, making you shake in a laugh.

"his biggest insecurity is the spotlight leaving and not coming back," you told them. you had known that for a long time.

"being forgotten?" your friend asked.

"being replaced," you said, your eyes widening with understanding. "with someone better. more promising." you shared a look with your friends, felt anger solidify into a plan. into hope.

"you look like you have someone in mind."

a memory flashed across your mind like a shooting star, engulfed in flame.

"how was the game, aus?" you had asked when he got home, stirring the pot of soup on the stove.

you heard some kind of grumble as he dropped his things in the mudroom, made his way into the kitchen.

"what's wrong?" you asked when you met his eyes, sensing something wrong like smoke in the air.

"just this young kid," he muttered. "'s nothing, really."

and you knew then that it wasn't just nothing, because he never tried to hide things from you, to diminish his feelings, unless it was really bothering him.

you turned the stove off, approached him, wrapped your arms around his middle and hugged him tight. "who's this new kid?" you asked, muffled by his chest.

his arms pulled your closer, tighter. this had always been where you felt warmest, safest. "some h name," he muttered. "hicks? hughes, maybe?"

you smiled into his chest, knowing him, and knowing he would never have forgotten the name of this kid. knowing auston matthews never forgets people who make him feel like anything other than the world's brightest star.

"whoever he is, probably just had the game of his life," you had said, your voice a comforting lullaby. you had pressed yourself up on your tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "nothing to worry about, yeah?"

he had smiled back at you, but something dark had swirled behind his gaze. something like knowing, like ominous understanding, like an empire, falling. "already forgotten, angel," he had said, but you knew, even then, that he was lying.

the memory fizzed and dissolved like baking soda in vinegar.

you looked at your friends and smiled. "what do you guys know about jack hughes?"

from there it was surprisingly easy to shift from a tangent line outside jack hughes's circle to someone inside of it. you were patient, too, careful not to rush. you wouldn't settle for anything less than perfect, after all, refused to enact any plan that wouldn't end in exactly the revenge you sought.

one of the other wags from toronto, whom you had grown close to, insisted on helping, giving you the numbers of some friends close to the devils.

"i'm honestly so, so proud of you for leaving," she had told you over the phone, her voice nothing but genuine, knowing. "all of us, we all knew you were way too good for him."

"did you?" you asked, maybe a little shocked. having been so completely deceived, so absolutely blind, for so long, it was interesting that others had not been as deluded as you. to hear their perspective, to see what you had not been able to before.

"sweetheart," she said, gently, "everyone who meets you can see that you're good. that you deserve someone good." there was a pause. "and everyone also sees that he was never that."

you let her words settle like glitter on a childhood craft. "thank you," you said. "i miss you."

"we miss you so much. see you soon?"

you agreed, thanked her for her help.

"i hope he's good," were her closing words. "maybe better, at least."

having started classes with your old friends, intent on finishing the degree you had so quickly and thoughtless abandoned for auston, you had ample time to plot.

"feels like we're in a spy movie, or something," your friend had said excitedly.

"we'll be your guys in the chair," the other chimed in. "here the whole way."

the rest of the initial plan came easily, with the help of the people who were on your side, which you quickly learned was a group made up of more people than you thought.

very soon, it was time for step one, and you were in front of your mirror, having just finished getting ready, your friends by your side.

you took a deep breath. "what if this isn't a good idea?" you whispered.

they squeezed at your hands. "no going back now, okay? we'll be there the whole time."

"what if he's not interested?"

"look at yourself," one of them said, "don't be stupid."

"what is he thinks i'm a crazy stalker?"

your oldest friend shrugged, her eyes full of mischief. "what if you are?"

so you found yourself at a dingy, run down bar, the lights low. according to your contacts, this was where the team and their friends came after home games.

when was the last time you had come to a bar looking for something? for someone? it felt distantly familiar, but so strange, like hearing a language you spoke as a child but that hadn't graced your tongue in decades.

you had been with auston for years, after all, having met him when you were 19, him 23. a whirlwind, a tornado, a perfect tempest of pink dust and white teeth. a proposal two years later, a break off a year further.

you were 22 now, and had never felt further from your nineteen-year-old self. a foolish child, a delicate doll, a phantom cloaked in a desperate desire for acceptance, for love.

you didn't know how to flirt in this new body, new being. you didn't even really know to how flirt with anyone but auston - it had been so long since you wanted anyone else. and you didn't even really want jack, at this point. you just wanted justice.

a cluster of motion and noise behind you ripped you from your thoughts. you didn't turn, though, just stirred your drink, let the liquid settle again until you could see yourself in the reflection. until you could make out your eyes, until you could plead with your mouth to tell you what to say.

a game, the beautiful girl mouthed to you, a secret code, it's only a game.

your hazy eyes caught on a pool table in the corner of the bar, vacant, the lamp above it flickering. you smiled to yourself, made your way over, picked out a cue, ran your fingers along the edge of it.

you took a sip of your drink before setting it down, lining yourself up to break. with a swift, even motion, a pleasant cracking noise rung out, colorful balls moving in different directions.

you scrunched up your nose, having sunk none initially, gracefully lining up to go again when you felt a few figures approach.

the first one who spoke, the one right next to you, was not someone you recognized. you didn't even think he was on the team, but he had the build of a hockey player, probably a quick center.

"need a private lesson, there, sugar?" he asked sleazily, his voice the arrogant drawl of a child, almost endearing in its steadiness. he leaned on the table as you looked up at him, straightened, tilted your head to rest against the cue.

"awful kind of you, coach of the year," you teased before nodding to the other person who had joined you, looming across the table like a shadow. "gonna help me beat your friend?"

your new coach scoffed, ran a hand through his long, unruly hair. "trust me, sugar," he said, "you don't need any help beating him."

you locked eyes with the figure across the table, whom you had only seen before on a screen, the one you had heard about in the arms of your ex-fiance. here he was, the soft contours of his face shimmering in the dim light. the mythical and heroic jack hughes, the shaker of the unshakeable auston matthews.

he was shorter than you expected. "not much of a competitor, is he?" you asked the man next to you, talking about jack as if he wasn't right there. as if you hadn't been looking at him the entire time. "doesn't like to play?"

you tilted your head, dared him with your eyes to prove you wrong. the familiar fire of flirtation, of the chase you hadn't engaged with in years flared when he took a step out of the shadows, letting you see him clearly and up close.

during your research, you had seen pictures of him, but they didn't do him even a semblance of justice. he was gorgeous in a fairytale prince sort of way, like he might save the day with a true love's kiss at any moment. his eyes were a striking blue, his nose almost dainty, his jaw angular. your gaze caught on his full mouth before finally landing on his eyes again. he had the kind of complexion and expression you could tell lit up when he smiled. your stomach twisted at the thought. a game, you repeated in your mind. only a game.

"i'll play," he said simply, his voice goofy in a way you weren't used to. not sleazy, like his friend, who was currently behind you while you bent forward, lining up the cue. it wasn't the classic baritone you were used to hearing in auston, but something more cautious, something sweeter.

the game progressed, each of you sinking shots with the tell-tale soft thud. it was his long-haired friend, the one who kept calling you sugar like you were some southern belle, who was much closer to you, who was adjusting your hips and arm placement before each turn, who was flirting with you so openly, his breath hot on your neck, his gaze open and obvious.

even then, a quick exchange of glances with jack felt much more intimate than any innuendo-filled comment and fumbling touch from his friend. whenever jack would sink a ball, his eyes would flutter up to meet yours in a fleeting catch of flame, of promise, of knowing.

with only a few balls still on the green felt of the table, his careful voice broke you from your trance. "what are we playing for?" he asked, eyes alight.

the look you shared was teasing, probing, yet deadly serious. this is everything, the look said. are you ready to give everything?

"how about this?" you began, your tone light and smoky. "if you win, you get my number." his full mouth quirked upwards in the slightest of smirks. "and if i win, i give it to him," you finished, nodding towards his sugar-spewing friend.

jack looked at his friend. "good with you, z?" he asked.

his friend, z, you guessed, let a cocky smirk drape across his face like velvet curtains. "more than good," he said, "as we're gonna win."

with the stakes agreed upon, the game continued until only the eight ball remained. you lined yourself up, your ever-so-involved coach just next to you as you called your pocket.

"have a game, sugar, here we go."

you ignored his friend's voice, lining your cue up perfectly, the smooth wood resting delicately between your fingers, the angle of your arm and neck smooth and sensual. everything about your preparation lent itself to a winning strike, everyone at the table knew it. you could feel it in z's early celebration, see it in the slight quiver of jack's hand.

bent over the table, in the final seconds before your strike, you peered up at jack through dark lashes, all dim light and foggy promise. you gave him a sly smirk as you followed through, the black and white ball missing the pocket by an inch, hitting the side of the table with a soft sound.

jack narrowed his eyes at you with a curious sort of look before quickly calling his pocket and immediately sinking the ball.

his friend sucked on his teeth before throwing up his hands in defeat. "christ, sugar, didn't take you for a choke artist," he said. "unless you're into that." he shot you a wink before heading off to grab a drink.

for the first time, it was just you and jack. you leaned on your cue, let your gaze fall over him lazily, in the same way you knew he was doing to you. he was close now, close enough that you could see how blue his eyes were, how long his lashes, how high and soft his features, how his hair was just a little too long on the sides.

"you let me win," he said, a gentle observation, not anything accusatory.

you smiled. "prove it," you said, to which a matching smile graced his own face.

"must be my lucky night, then," he said as he handed you his phone and you typed your number in.

you laughed. "i don't know," you mused, "you seem like a guy who's used to getting what he wants." and he did seem like that - who could say no to those pretty eyes?

he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, a motion you tracked. "'m a guy used to earning what he wants," he corrected, and you hummed. a distinction that auston had never made, even though he worked hard, sure. but he was a natural. what would it be like to be with someone to whom everything didn't come just so, so, easily?

"like to work for it, hm?" you teased.

his gaze dropped to your mouth for a second before returning to your eyes.

you stepped forward, pushed and poked at the imaginary line between the two of you. you looked up at him, gently swiped at his cheekbone with your thumb, felt heat rumble between the two of you, something volcanic. "don't work yourself too hard, yeah?"

without a second glance, you placed your cue against the table, grabbed your bag and made for the door.

on your way out, you overhead the conversation that had erupted in your exit.

"i was the one talking to her the whole time," that long-island-ish drawl said.

"if you think she was into you for even a second, you're an idiot," jack replied.

you swore the door was chuckling as it shut behind you.

everything had gone exactly as you'd hoped, exactly as you'd known it would, so you weren't at all surprised to receive a text the next day asking if you were around that night to get a drink.

so you found yourself at a different bar, this one a bit more upscale, quickly spotting jack as he waited for you outside. you blew out a breath as you approached, as a smile made his face glow. it was still so new to find someone else beautiful. when would you get used to his imperfect teeth, his oceanic eyes, his feminine nose, this greek sculpture opposed to autson's roman one?

you blinked. "hi," you said, suddenly feeling lame.

his mouth quirked. "hey." he opened the door for you, nodded. "after you."

"i'm gonna warn you," you started as you ducked past him and into the building. "i haven't been on a date in a while."

he shoved his hands in his pockets, a juvenile habit that made you blush. "find that hard to believe," he said, his tone playful. "pretty girl like yourself."

you scrunched up your nose at that. pretty girl. auston had called you that so many times, but for the first time you actually thought about its meaning. something flipped in your stomach at jack calling you pretty, but it was the girl part that had you pausing for a moment.

you were a girl, pretty much, you were jack's age, but you hadn't felt like one in so long. maybe it was being with someone a little older, but you felt almost ancient, so tired, so drained. but here you were, on a date, every bit the pretty girl he had deemed you.

you just laughed, taking a seat at the counter, smoothing out your dress against your legs. "real sweet talker, are you?" you joked, turning to him and meeting his eyes.

his mouth quirked like he knew something you didn't. "somethin' like that," he said.

the night went by fast, conversation flowing easily, no sign of pressure or anything of the like. you asked about his career, what he did that day, his family, his friends. he made you laugh, and it came so easily, so fluidly. he asked you about what you liked to do, what you were studying in school, how you were enjoying jersey.

surprisingly, you found yourself wanting to be completely honest with him, even though you couldn't be. you found yourself wanting to tell him everything, to answer any question he asked, to never leave him wishing or wanting even for a second.

you got hung up on the curve of his upper lip, on the slope of his shoulders under his button down, on his girlish laugh, his firefly of a smile.

the night was over too soon. too soon, you had the sinking feeling that you were in over your head, that perhaps you had chosen the wrong person for your revenge plot. you wanted to hurt auston, after all, but not yourself. certainly not this shimmery spark of a boy in front of you.

he walked you out, both of you pausing outside the bar, under the dull streetlight, a theatre spotlight for your praiseworthy performance.

you turned to look at him, and him at you, sinking into each others' gazes like quicksand, the air thick with expectation.

"i don't kiss on the first date," you blurted out, talking to his lips, talking to yourself.

he smiled, his shoulders rumbling in a laugh. "'s okay," he breathed, "like to work for it, remember, baby?"

you shook your head as your cheeks erupted in a delighted rosy flush. "goodnight, jack," you said, your voice every bit the giveaway. he returned the sentiment with a knowing grin.

the next day, you invited your girls over to watch him play. as you all settled on the couch, a homemade cocktail in your hand, you couldn't help but hide your face when the camera lingered on his profile during the anthem.

one of your friends gave a mock-salute. "god bless america," she said, shaking her head as you threw a pillow at her.

"alright," you chastised.

"what?" she asked, raising a brow, "just appreciating the wonderful offerings of our country."

your other friend shook her head. "you don't usually go for guys like him, eh?" she asked. "i mean, ever since we were in middle school you always went for the guys with biceps bigger than my face." she held her hands in front of her face for visualization.

"'s not like he's tiny," you said, almost embarrassed.

"no, no," she amended, "but he's no auston. he's just, i don't know, pretty."

you smiled, knowing exactly what she meant. auston was so masculine in every way, and jack was softer, somehow, pretty in a way you didn't usually go for.

pretty in a way that made you smile at your phone when he texted you the next day, asking if he could cook you dinner later that week.

you were blushing to yourself, the morning of, after he had texted you asking if you had any dietary restrictions.

and you didn't, but wasn't it just the sweetest, most thoughtful thing to ask? would you have even thought to ask?

i want you to be comfortable, his text said, i want you to laugh with your mouth full in my kitchen.

careful, angel, a deep voice called from the back of your mind, from the inside of your teeth. this is about me, remember?

your fingers twitched with the reminder as you stood on his front stoop, waiting for jack to answer the bell. the air had a brisk twinge of a chill to it, a chill that had your nose turning pink and your feet stiffening in your boots.

but he answered the door, and the breath you blew out rose between the two of you like a misty curtain, one you resented, because it distorted your view of him, even just so.

the mist settled, and his smile was left in its wake.

a smile that silenced all the gossiping voices in your head, left the throne of their malevolent king vacant, abandoned.

"you're here," he breathed, almost like he couldn't believe it, like he couldn't believe you.

"and it's your fault," you teased, scrunching up your nose.

he shook his head, laughed at some joke in his mind, stepped aside. "you must be freezing, baby, come in."

the butterflies in your chest soared as he helped you shoulder off your coat, his fingers leaving just a ghost of a touch on your wrist, the back of your neck, leaving scorched skin behind. you shivered, took in his graceful figure hanging your coat up on a hook by the door, let a smile come easily to your face when he turned back to you.

"what?" he said, grinning.

you let out a half-laugh. "nothing," you said, looking around as you kicked your shoes off. anything to avoid the white-hot light of his undivided attention. "i like your place."

and you did like it, truly, it was just so unexpected. homely, not cluttered, but definitely not the modern, futuristic, almost barren aesthetic you can come to associate with successful hockey players.

he flashed you a shy smile as he led you into the kitchen, bowing his head, making his hair fall into his face, almost bashful. "it likes you too," he told you, swinging his hand up to hit the top of the doorframe like a basketball-obsessed middle-schooler. you bit your lip to stop your grin.

what a pleasure it was to get to know all the most intricate and intimate manners of someone new.

"everything's almost done, now," he said, quickly turning off the stovetop and peering through the glass of the oven.

his tone was much more at ease then when you had talked to him before. he was at home here, and you could tell. he wore home like a hand-me-down sweater, too big in the shoulders and worn in the elbows, but lovely and familiar in all of its comfort.

you sat atop a stool at his counter, nervously rubbing the sole of one foot into the top of the other. "thanks for cooking, jack," you said, "you really didn't have to do anything fancy, or anything." suddenly, sitting here in this space, surrounded by the evidence of his effort, you felt guilt settle deeply into your body. unworthiness, perhaps, of the smell of food in the air, of the drink he had poured for you so gently, of the smile he kept throwing your way.

that voice in your head huffed. look at all this, he said, look at the burden you are.

and you were feeling it, so heavily, until jack took a sip of his own drink and waved you off, furrowing his brow as if confused. "'s how a date works, right, baby?" he said. he tilted his head, teasing, "tellin' me no one's ever pulled out all the stops for you?"

and you laughed, shook your head, because you supposed it was, supposed no one really had.

you got to know each other even better over the meal he had cooked, surprising you once again with how easy everything felt between you.

"tell me what you did today," he might say, his voice soft, muffled from chewing.

and you might tell him about your classes, how midterms were coming up, how you were nervous but felt pretty good about most of them.

maybe then you would ask about practice that morning, to which he would tell you some story about his teammates, how they were giving it to him all morning.

"why?" you might ask, to which he would look up at you with that bashful flush.

"'cause they knew you were coming over tonight," he admitted, pushing broccoli around his plate. "kept saying how i was probably gonna make you a box of kraft or something."

you laughed, a genuine rumble from deep in your chest, tilting your head back. when you looked back at him, he was looking at you with something like wonder.

and maybe later, you would ask what his favorite part of his house was, and he would say it was his wall of framed pictures, which would make you melt a little bit, your heart a puddle of feeling.

too soon, you were setting down your fork and knife, crossing and uncrossing your legs in restlessness.

"did you like it?" he would ask, his voice so full of hope it could have killed you.

so full of hope that you reached across the counter to hold his hand in yours, if only for a moment, to squeeze his fingers in meaningful emphasis.

your touch caught him by surprise, hesitant for a moment before locking eyes with you, simmering, then squeezing your hand back in his warm, callused grip.

a grip that said i'm no natural, but i'll work for it. for you.

"it was perfect," you said honestly, because it was. "but please, please let me do the dishes," you pleaded, looking at him through your lashes, just wanting to do something to help.

it would feel so wrong to be doted on for the whole night while giving nothing in return. at the very least, it would feel foreign.

he shook his head playfully, but relented. "you can help," he conceded, "but 'm not letting a pretty girl clean up my mess by herself."

you scoffed with a smile, squeezed his hand a final time before pushing yourself off of your stool, gathering all the plates and glasses in a single go.

"where'd you learn how to do that?" he asked, genuinely, as he followed you to the sink.

you carefully set everything down in a graceful swoop, let your lips quirk upwards in nostalgia. "once a waitress, always a waitress," you explained, referring to your short-lived stint at a busy restaurant in toronto before auston insisted on you staying home.

and at the time, even a little now, it was a sweet gesture, one you had taken as him wanting you to relax, wanting you to have the freedom to do whatever you wanted with your days.

you just secretly wished he had considered that what you wanted to do with your days was working, going to school, doing something for yourself.

jack leaned on the edge of the counter, his lopsided grin like an electric jolt to your heart. "what, did they show you the door 'cause you were making all the tips?" he teased, nevertheless making you blush as you washed the plates with soap. "not fair for everyone else, 's that it?"

you gasped in dramatic accusation, flicking sudsy water from your fingers his direction. "how dare you?" you exclaimed before turning away from him in a huff, feigning sadness. "'s not like i can control this face."

his mouth widened in shock, then took on a scheme-filled smile as soon as the water hit him, a short laugh escaping him. "you didn't," he said, dipping his hand in the soap and flinging some at you.

you squealed, holding your hands up to shield your face as he reached in for more, bubbles filling both of his palms. "wait, jack, i'm sorry!" you laughed. "i swear, i didn't mean to!"

"liar," he cooed, his gaze sparking like a lighter, you swore you could hear the clicking sound. then he was right in front of you, only a breath apart, so close you swore you could feel the beat on his heart in your own chest.

he reached down and gently held your face in his hands, the soap now all along your jaw and cheeks.

you closed your eyes for a second, sighed in defeat, still so aware of him so close, of his touch, feather-light on you skin.

when they opened again, you both had not moved, frozen in place, perhaps willed by the moment, compelled by the growing sensation of rightness, of being exactly where you were supposed to be. when he spoke, he was speaking to your lips, dragging his gaze back up to your eyes like it weighed something stark.

"do you kiss on the second date?" he breathed, and your breath caught, your heart stuttering at his utter politeness, his thoughtfulness, the idea that he remembered things you had told him.

you bit your tongue, because, if you were being honest, you usually didn't - you took the rule of threes very personally. you liked to take your time, savored that lovely period of what could be. besides, you had learned the hard way what happened when you let people in your life too quickly, too hastily. you knew all too well that giving in to a toothy smile and a sleeve of tattoos only led to shrugs met with tears.

but here, now, with jack's soapy hands on your face, in the space he had so warmly accepted you into, you had the feeling this boy in front of you was going to be an exception. that he would be an exception for many things, perhaps the exception.

as if hearing your internal dialogue loud and clear, he dipped his head down until he was impossibly close, so when he spoke you could feel the words on your lips.

"please let me kiss you, baby," he pleaded, his eyes hooded and heavy, his voice a rasp.

deciding he was an exception indeed, you answered him by pressing up on your toes, meeting his mouth with yours in a kiss that bruised.

and later, you would think about how auston had never been a please let me kiss you man, instead he had been a give me a kiss, angel kind of guy.

after, you would think about how it felt so much more personal, so much more sweet to be asked please, can i instead of being ordered give me, give me, give me, like a demanding, red-faced child.

later, you would think about how the previous kisses in your life paled in comparison to the feeling of jack's lips on yours. how before this moment, you were used to kisses that felt like transactions, like the necessary box being checked before the next step, how they felt like being swallowed.

after, you would swoon over all the details and nuances, but, right now, there was nothing but his lips, his hands, the way he melted into you and practically whimpered when you kissed him harder.

kissing him didn't feel like being swallowed, it felt like taking the biggest deep breath of your life after slowly suffocating for years. you forgot you had soap bubbles all over your face, you forgot about auston, you forgot about everything - there was only him, and you, in this moment.

he held your face like you were something precious, moving one hand into your hair as you wrapped your arms around his neck. he tasted like lemon and rosemary, as well as something so deliciously him you could feel yourself become addicted immediately.

his grip in your hair was soft, and when his lips moved against yours it felt like melting snow in the warmth of the morning, pure and sweet and natural and right. kissing him felt like waking up with sunlight streaming through the windows, like laughing while taking your makeup off, like cinnamon and clove and home.

when you pulled away from him, only just slightly, both of you catching your breath heavily, he opened his eyes slowly, almost reluctantly. his eyes were almost glazed over, and you had a feeling yours looked in a similar way, syrupy and hot.

he gently swiped his thumb along your swollen bottom lip as if testing to make sure you were real, not just some shadow, not just a dream.

you traced your nails along his neck, smiled as he brought his hands down to wrap around your middle, resting them on the small of your back.

"god, you're just so fucking pretty, aren't you?" he breathed, like a revelation.

you swore he had your head spinning for days after, days you unfortunately and cruelly had to spend apart due to a week-long road trip for the team.

you told yourself it was a good thing that he was going away for a bit, as it would give you a second to regroup, to revaluate, to familiarize yourself with what your initial goal was for your plan. you reminded yourself over the week apart that jack was a means to an end, that whatever had blossomed between the two you had a finish line, that all of it was meant to make a point, then hopefully leave this whole hockey world behind after the damage had been done.

but then one of your girls would throw on the game, and jack's expressive face would fill the screen, chewing on the fingers of his gloves during warm ups, and your heart would sink at the thought of leaving him behind. and it just about combusted at the idea that you were using him, even though that's exactly what you were doing.

you've only been on two dates with him, only kissed once, you reminded yourself. he's probably seeing other people, anyways, probably with some other girl right now. it's not like you're exclusive. this is probably not a big deal to him.

the thought was comforting but also devastating, a brick in your stomach.

while he was away, midterms came and went. as you walked into your last one, you thought about maybe texting jack after, trying to get together tonight, since he would finally be back.

then your pen hit the paper and time passed in a blur.

you exited the lecture hall in a flurry of relief and pride, happy to have accomplished something so concrete, something that you had truly worked hard on.

walking down the stairs outside of the entrance, your smile stilled, frozen in shock, when you looked up from your feet and saw a familiar, beautiful figure leaning against his car, an excited grin on his face, flowers in his grip as he locked eyes with you, making your breath catch.

"is that jack hughes?" some kid from your class said altogether too loudly to his friend. you had seen that same kid wearing devils gear more than once.

his friend didn't look up from his phone. "who's jack hughes?" he replied.

you couldn't stop your disbelieving laugh, your smile, already making your cheeks sore as you finished descending the stairs, until you were in front of him, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in for a hug before you even realized what you were doing.

this was so unlike you, really, letting yourself feel as deeply as you could without filtering it, but anything else would have felt so wrong it could have killed you. especially when he brought his arms around you without even a second's hesitation, held you tight and close, so you could feel the petals of the flowers on the back of your neck.

"you're here," you said, breathlessly, still shocked, into his firm chest.

"had to make it back for your last test," he said into your hair, both of you not wanting to let go.

"how did you know?" you murmured, pulling away from him, only slightly.

he loosened his embrace, pulled away to get a look at you, let his eyes run over you carefully, indulgently. he pushed your hair back from your face, his touch gentle, like you were a relic, something worth treasuring. "you said so, last week," he said simply, like it was obvious.

he said it as if, for years of your life, you had wished and yearned so reverently for auston to remember the little things, like your coffee order, like the dates on which your parents were coming to visit, like your anniversary.

he said it as if it didn't mean the entire world that he had listened, that he had remembered.

you only leaned into his chest, looked up at him with something seriously dangerous in your eyes, something that was not supposed to be there. "'d you bring me flowers, jack?" you asked, a playful note in your tone.

he flushed, so lovely, hid his face behind the bouquet, peeking only one deep blue eye out, as if embarrassed. "too much?" he asked, still shielding his face.

you laughed, squeezed his bicep lightheartedly. "just enough," you assured him, your eyes full of meaning, willing him to lower his shield, let you see the face you had been dreaming of all week. "thank you. i missed you."

you would have told him that a thousand times just to see the way his whole face lit up, like he could never hide how happy your words made him. he wore the late afternoon sunshine like a dream, the dewy rays dripping down his cheekbones, the slope of his nose, slow and golden as honey.

he had this way of making you feel like you were first choice, every time, and it was so foreign that you hadn't known you had been craving it until he had laid it at your feet like an offering. every time he texted you to check in, to ask how your day was, to finalize plans, it would send a flurry of butterflies swarming your chest, a rosy flush to the bridge of your nose.

he was so, so beautiful, inside and out, that you effectively forgot what the whole point of your plan was in the first place. you basically had forgotten about it, that day that he dragged you along with some of his friends to pick out a christmas tree.

"do i know any of these friends?" you had asked on the way up, riding shotgun, reaching over periodically to run your nails along his neck, just below his hairline, your way of saying i'm happy you're here. and he would reach over and rest his hand on your thigh, not possessive, just a reminder of your presence. a reminder that made your insides twist with want, nonetheless, that made your gaze simmer.

one of the things you appreciated so genuinely about jack was that he didn't rush you for even a second, so happy to go at whatever pace made you most comfortable, whatever pace would keep you around the longest. it felt almost wrong that his acceptance of a slow pace made you want to speed things up, made you want to know what he felt like in your hands, what sounds he might make if you teased him, what his voice would sound like in your bed.

he let out a rumble of a laugh at your question, shaking you from your daze. "you'll definitely recognize one of them," he said. "though i don't know if he's fully recovered from your last meeting."

"oh no." you paled. "not him." you winced, thinking about how you had probably bruised his inflated ego. not beyond repair, though, you knew. for guys like that, never beyond repair.

jack traced circles on your thigh with his thumb in affirmation. "don't worry, baby," he said, "told 'm to be on best behavior."

when you arrived, you recognized that boisterous voice immediately.

"so good to see you again, sugar," he drawled, his tone especially toying.

you decided to cut any hard feelings immediately, going up to him and giving him a quick hug in greeting. "i think i owe you a thank you, coach of the year," you said, pulling away with a smile.

luckily, he seemed to forgive quickly, even to appreciate your efforts. "i prefer my thank yous in hot chocolate form," he said, and you promised to fulfill his request later. he gave you his name in exchange for yours.

you spent the afternoon leisurely ambling around the grounds, looking at potential trees, but really just enjoying the company of those around you.

most of the time, you spent laughing, tucked into jack's side, finding warmth in the firm feeling of his hip against your waist.

"what about this one?" trevor asked, holding up an especially short and stout one.

the two of you decided jack would need a taller one to better suit the ceiling proportions in his living room.

walking around, it felt like you were in your own dreamy winter wonderland, in a fog of laughter and warmth and a million other beautiful things.

"you leave again tomorrow?" you asked at one point, unable to hide the slight disappointment in your voice. you peered up at him, your eyes warm, your cheeks rosy from the cold.

he met your gaze and nodded, hugged you tighter into his side. "back in a few days," he said.

you couldn't help but pout just a little. jack's roadtrips felt longer and more lonely than auston's ever had.

jack ran his thumb along your bottom lip. "what's that for, baby?" he asked.

you shrugged. "just gonna miss you, 's all," you told him honestly.

something sweet bubbled up in his gaze, but the moment was effectively interrupted by trevor's voice coming from behind you, now shockingly close.

"oh?" he said, dramatic, "what's this? is that - mistletoe?" he emphasized all of his words with dramatic pauses. you briefly thought that maybe, if he hadn't been all in on hockey, he would have made an excellent theater kid.

you both turned to find trevor standing right behind you, holding an alarmingly large branch of something that resembled mistletoe.

"where did you find that?" jack asked his friend.

"never mind that," trevor said, waving him off.

you elbowed jack lightly. "looking for an excuse not to kiss me, are you?"

he shook his head incredulously, as if you had said something funny. you were about to tease him again, but he didn't give you the chance, immediately taking your face in his hands and angling his head down slightly to meet you in a kiss that seared every bit of chill from the air.

would you ever get used to this? would his lips ever not feel like they belonged on yours? would your heartbeat ever not thrum, like some perfect harmony?

the warmth of his hands on your face, the security of yours against the plane of his chest, all of it, everything - it was so perfect you wanted to stay here, just like this, forever. and the thought didn't even scare you as want began to pool inside of you, hot and heavy.

a mixture of a cough and a laugh had the two of you pulling away from each other. one of jack's other friends who had tagged along let out a low whistle, making you blush deeper.

jack just slung a heavy arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

luckily, trevor's attention had already strayed, as he was now holding the branch over his own head and the head of the other friend. "don't fight it!" he was calling out as the friend broke out into a light gait.

"get away from me, you scumbag," the poor kid called out over his shoulder.

your eyes were stuck on jack's face, still hazy from your kiss. he turned to you, his mouth quirking up. "staring, baby?" he said, low enough for only you to hear.

you nodded, shameless. "want you," you told him plainly, barely recognizing the tone of your own voice.

the fire in his own eyes welled up as you placed your hands flat on his chest. "fuck, now, baby?" he asked, looking around to where his friends chased each other around.

you bit your lip, pleaded him with your eyes. "please, jack," you said, "please take me home."

he took your hand in his immediately, tossed some parting words over his shoulder to his friends, who paused, watched the two of you stumble into jack's car with urgency.

as he started the engine and pulled away, you heard a faint the hell are we supposed to do with this tree?

the car ride back felt longer than it really was, both of you practically buzzing with want. you kept a hand in his hair, his palm planted firmly on the inside of your thigh, close but not close enough.

you let out a sigh of relief when he pulled into the driveway, let him pull you into the house, push you up against the closed door, kiss you again with heat and force and somehow, such softness.

it was the softness that filled you with want. his desire was obvious, especially when he pressed his hips up, hard against you, but that didn't mean he wasn't just so gentle with you, so in tune to what you wanted.

you fisted your hands in his hair, pulled until his posture faltered, until his lips parted further and he moaned into your mouth.

you hooked a leg around his hip to bring him closer, relished the way he began to rock against you.

"fuck, baby," he breathed out, strained, stuttering in places, "don't wanna fuck you against the door."

later, you would think about how auston had never had such a problem. he had never cared where you were, how uncomfortable a position had made you. sometimes you had thought he found his own bed boring.

but jack just pulled you into his room, lightly rocked you back onto the bed, pressed soft kisses down your jaw, your neck, your stomach. you both pushed and pulled clothes aside, looking to give the other as much access as possible.

"so fuckin' pretty," he mumbled against your stomach, making you flush all over.

"please, jack," you whined as he slowly dragged his fingers through your folds, making you shiver.

"what do you need, baby?" he asked, pumping himself a few times, up and down, his voice low and rough.

you sat up for a moment, took hold of his hand, peered up at him through your lashes as you spit into it.

he groaned, ran his hand over his cock, now glistening with your spit. desire glowed in your eyes like fireflies. "tell me," he begged.

you laid back on the bed again, the smell of him everywhere. another time, you would insist on feeling him in your mouth, maybe on feeling his mouth on you, but you knew the both of you were far too desperate for that.

"just need you inside me, baby, please," you said, your eyes raking over his figure above you, all gentle slopes and hard lines together.

"ask me so good, baby, so good for me," he said, a careful rasp. he thumbed your clit, making you jolt, dragging his fingers through you again before bringing them to his mouth. "and so ready, hm?"

you nodded feverishly, your mouth falling open as he finally pushed into you, his groan deep.

you whined, the stretch so surreal as you reached forward to grasp at his forearm, anything to ground you.

staying still in the stretch for a second, you waited for the feeling to weaken, but it didn't, not really.

he dropped his head, his exhale coming out shallow, the muscles in his shoulders constrained.

you tightened your grip on his forearm, let your nails dig into him to pull him back to you.

"fuck, baby, i can't," he bit out, "can't, i swear."

you rolled your hips back and forth, trying to will some movement from him. "please, jack, please move," you begged. "please fuck me, baby."

never one to deny you, he began a slow pace, the friction and depth almost unbearable. one of his hands dug into your hip, so hard you could feel bruising, the other beginning to rub careful circles on your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.

"you're so deep," you choked, "faster, baby, need you faster."

he obliged, picking up the pace of his rhythm, moving his hand faster against your clit, making that wave well up within you, forcing moans from your throat.

"fuck, sound so pretty, baby," he said, a glistening sheen now painted across his brow, his collarbones. "so pretty, squeezing me so perfect."

the muscles of his stomach began to contract as you felt yourself dangerously close.

his rhythm continued, bruising in depth and force, so lovely in softness. you tugged his hand from your hip, placed his fingers on your tongue, desperate for something to do with your mouth. you sucked, pulling a guttural moan from him. "don't stand a chance when you do that, baby, swear," he said, "fuck, don't stand a chance with you, hm?"

you felt yourself smile around his hand, your eyes watering, glazed over.

"gonna make me cum, baby," he whined, his motions becoming jerky, his voice little more than a plea. "cum with me, baby, hm? make me feel so good, yeah?"

you fell over the edge at his words, felt his orgasm follow yours almost immediately, the air warm and sticky around you. he collapsed on top of you, his exhales like liquid on your skin, yours like dreamy sighs as he pulled you to him, held you close as you waited for the rise and fall of your chests to settle.

he drew his fingers lazily around the flesh of your thigh, your hip, you pushed his hair back from his face as you both fought sleep, wanting just a few more seconds in the conscious presence of the other.

everything was so lovely you could barely stand it.

you should have known it wouldn't last long.

a day into jack's time away, you received a text from one of your friends in toronto. it was a picture from auston's instagram with the message just thought you should know. we miss you.

something cracked in your chest at the photo of your ex-fiance and this new girl. it wasn't really jealousy, definitely not desire, no, it was harder to pinpoint.

maybe it was the fact that after four years of being together, and after a whole year of being engaged, auston had never once even thought about posting a picture of the two of you.

and you had always chalked it up to the fact that you didn't have any social media, but now, you realized there was something to be said about letting the world know that you were taken.

and you also knew, now, that that was a statement auston had been unable to make your entire relationship.

a voice in the back of your mind, tone watery with tears, wailed. what makes her so special? it pressed. what makes her so much better than me?

it didn't help that she looked absolutely nothing like you. you wondered passingly if you would have preferred a look-a-like to be staring back at you through your screen. you didn't really know, but you did know that her features were sharp to your soft, your eyes are hair completely different in coloring. her face had you questioning if he had ever really found you beautiful, or if you had been the exception to his regular type. the idea weighed heavily on your shoulders like a cape made of cement.

but you knew, at the end of the day, that it was not about her.

and so you decided that as much as your relationship with jack had become genuine, maybe it was time to bring back the plan, just a little.

it can be two things, you told yourself, jack doesn't need to get hurt.

so when jack arrived back from the road, your relationship now teetered on a tightrope, balancing between two things, two motives like a trapeze artist.

still, you tried your best not to let your desire to rip out the heart of your ex-fiance stand in between you and jack. you could be bloodthirsty and gentle at the same time, you told yourself. two things.

the idea became easier when jack began to ask you to come to his games.

at first, you had been skeptical. auston hadn't wanted you there until maybe a year and half into your relationship. you didn't want to push this, press your luck, make yourself a burden, in fear of him abandoning you.

"are you sure you want me there?" you had asked the first time, a little timid, your face resting on your clasped hands, sitting at his kitchen counter, keeping him company as he made something on the stove.

he had turned to you, head tilted, confused. "of course i do, baby," he had said, calmly and clearly. "i want you everywhere i am."

and that had been the end of that.

so you began to become a regular attendee at his games, getting to know the people of his life more closely, becoming a fixture in his life more solidly.

you let him post a picture of the two of you, so touched that he would even ask. he showed you the post when he was done.

you kissed his shoulder in response. "your eyes are closed, jack," you said, half-laughing at the fact that he had chosen this picture, so flawed in nature.

"hm?" he looked at the picture again, then shrugged. "hadn't noticed. no one's gonna be looking at me, anyways."

you shook your head, disbelieving. he was making it hard for this to be two things. he was making it really, really hard to care if your ex-fiance even saw this post. he was making it really hard to care about your ex-fiance at all.

"i don't believe you, sometimes," you mused aloud.

he twirled a lock of your hair, mesmerized. "how?"

you tilted your head back to allow him easier access. "you're pretty perfect, you know that?" you smiled up at him, blissful. "too perfect."

seeing his face go pink with your praise made you make a mental vow to tell him more often.

and he gave you every opportunity to be surprised by his perfection, over and over.

every kiss was something teenage you would have dreamed about, every time he led you into his bedroom was something current you dreamed about. how he seemed to enjoy every moment no matter what you were doing, even how clearly he communicated with you during your first fight, all of it astounded you.

he made all of your friends jealous, but so happy for you. he met them, one time, when he dropped you off to get coffee with them after class.

he was so respectful with them, asked them genuine questions, but never anything that told you that he wasn't in on you one hundred percent.

when auston met your best friend in toronto, he had dropped your hand that he had been holding.

"didn't tell me she was so pretty, angel," he had said, and you had hoped it was just to show you he was putting in an effort to impress the people that were important to you.

when jack said he had to be going, to get to morning skate, he just kissed your cheek. "use my card, yeah, baby?" he called out, waiting for your nod and smile before he drove away.

how had you stumbled into this? was it possible that it wasn't too good to be true?

jack had asked you to come to toronto when the devils headed up north to play the leafs, because he knew you had lived there, because he had lived there, too, and wanted to show you around. and it had reached a point where refusing him when he offered a piece of himself to you seemed cruelly impossible.

you told yourself that it was just another game, just another day. it helped that you honestly didn't feel any attachment to this rink, even to this city. you had watched jack play plenty, now, and you were determined to treat this game just the same as any other, if not rooting for jack with just a little more urgency, a little more emotion.

you loved how easy he was to cheer for. you loved how you could see how much he loved the game, how he smiled after every good play, how he saw things you could have never seen on the ice. you could practically hear his laugh in the rafters, see his imperfect teeth in the glass. he was everywhere, here, are you loved it.

of course, you noticed that your ex-fiance was here, but it honestly wasn't even that bad. if anything, it was confirmation that you were over him, that what you had with jack was real, that you weren't in for revenge anymore. you weren't in this for auston at all.

until he scored, and his goal song echoed through the arena. you knew that this year, the leafs had decided to try out individual goal songs after players scored, songs that they chose before the season started.

you did not know, however, that auston matthews' goal song was the song that, months ago, was set to be the soundtrack to your first dance.

the crowd was eating it up, of course they were, the juxtaposition of auston's dynamic scoring ability with the old-fashioned crooning of you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you.

the song seemed to reverberate off of the walls, into your head, behind your eyes, where it settled like thick fog. it smelled like champagne, waxy makeup, hairspray. your eyes began to water, which made your throat constrict.

like a dream, maybe a hazy memory, your first dance that never was flashed across your mind. an ornate, almost gauche white dress, the beautiful heels you had been practicing to wear. his pressed suit, slicked back hair, stupid designer socks that used to make you laugh. his hand on your waist, your arms around his neck, the two of you lost in each other, swaying, swirling around the floor to this song, surrounded by loved ones, high on laughter and the future and love.

slowly, the image blinked out of your vision as the song faded and the puck dropped, play starting up again.

it blinked out like a dying star, and then it was exactly that. dead.

because as you trained your eyes back on the ice, never once did they stray from 86 in red. never once did anything like regret or nostalgic desire well up in your heart, because you were not the one who lost. you were not the one with something to prove.

finally, you buried that wedding dress, laid it six feet under, let the soil spoil it, knowing one day you would wear a white dress and it would mean something to both parties involved.

in a breath, the game ended, and jack won, and he was truly all you were thinking about.

waiting for him, though, practically bouncing up and down, you were suddenly pulled into a side hallway by a grip you would recognize anywhere.

you were not surprised to look up and see the calculating eyes of auston matthews looking down at you with some lethal combination of heat and arrogance.

"angel," he said, a greeting that made you grind your teeth.

you pulled your arm away from him, shook him off of you, willed strength and stone into your posture and tone. "cool goal song, asshole," you bit out.

"i missed you too," he cooed, not taking you seriously, even now. his frame seemed so imposing now, looming large, too large for someone you didn't trust.

you rolled your eyes. "if you'll excuse me, i'm waiting for someone." you turned to leave the hallway, go back to the exit where jack would surely be walking out of any minute.

auston grabbed at your wrist, and it burned. "what, you mean that kid?" he scoffed, but didn't let go. "c'mon, angel, you know he's nothing to you." he rubbed a circle into your wrist that once, might have been soothing, but now made you feel sick. "you know you're all for me."

and you could have said so many things. like how that kid was your age, actually, so what did that say about him? like how that kid was twice the man he would ever be. like how this would be the last time you ever saw him, the last time he would ever have your attention.

the opening of a door ripped you from your thoughts as both you and auston glanced up to see jack in the doorframe, his bag slung over his shoulder, his face flushed from the game, tired blue eyes caught on auston's hand around your wrist.

time froze for a millisecond as you felt like you were pulled between worlds. it can be two things, you had told yourself once. it was never two things.

you watched as painful realization settled in jack's eyes as he simply turned away, let the door close behind him.

you ripped your arm from auston's grasp. "you've never taken me seriously," you told him then, looking him square in the face, your tone steady and serious as anything. "but if you believe anything i say, let it be that you are nothing to me, and you never will be again."

for the second time, you were the one to leave, this time running towards something worth saving.

you cursed under your breath, looking around for that head of soft brown hair.

you found him in a different hallway, sitting on the ground, his bag slumped next to him, his back leaning against the wall, his feet flat on the ground.

for a single moment, it was so quiet you swore that your exhales echoed against the walls. he didn't turn to face you, but obviously knew you were there.

"so you're with him, then?" he practically whispered, his tone like a cleaver to your chest, so defeated and blindsided, almost like he was talking to himself.

you slowly made your way over to him, sat down next to him, mirrored his position. side by side, but he felt so far away. "i'm not," you said back to him.

he let out some kind of bitter laugh, a sound you hated, a sound you hoped you would never have to hear again. "so that was you making friends?" he picked at a thread on his dress pants. "just meeting new people, 's that it?"

you turned to face him, then, but he still faced forward, as if looking at you would ruin him. "it's not what you think," you said, softly.

"well, what is it?" he paused, looked at you, then, and he wore his sadness like a suit fit for mourning. "be honest with me, please."

you took a shaky breath, knowing that this, very possibly, might be the last time you would ever be so close to him. knowing that your next words, your explanation, it might drive him away from you forever, before you had even really had the chance to have him.

you savored this breath, this liminal space between the truth and the now.

"i was going to marry him," you said, and the confession felt like letting go of every single vengeful thought you had ever had, like all the spite and disdain in your body had evaporated into dust.

"you were going to marry auston matthews," jack murmured, his face blank, his tone confused.

"yes."

"but you're not anymore?" he asked, looking at you, leaning his cheek onto his knees like an impatient elementary school kid waiting for recess.

you shook your head. "no. he cheated on me."

there was a pause, brutal silence, as his brow furrowed in confusion, his fists clenched briefly before letting go. his gaze fell to his hands for a moment, and when he spoke again it was so cautious, so pointed, that your stomach sank. "and then you just happened to start dating me?" he looked so tired. "same job, same goals, pretty much same life." he let out a breath. "you can't tell me that's a coincidence."

you sighed, prayed to whatever god would listen that honesty would count for something. "no, it wasn't a coincidence." your heart felt like it was lulling itself to sleep. "you were never a coincidence."

he dropped his head between his knees, and hurt vibrated through the air like sound waves. you could feel his hurt in your fingertips, could have melted in down, frozen it, wielded it like a weapon. "tell me something, baby," he pleaded, muffled by his legs. "please."

you knew it was unfair, but you laid a gentle hand on his fingers. "let me tell you all of it, please, jack, and then you don't have to see me again if you don't want to."

he took a breath that you felt in your bones, then in an act of mercy you cherished, gave a soft nod.

so you did. you told him the whole story - how you had been so devastated and hurt that you were blinded by a desire to make auston suffer. how you had chosen jack on purpose, because you knew it would cut the deepest. how you had not simply shown up randomly at that bar, all that time ago, how all of it was part of a plan, down to flirting with his friend, down to that first game of pool.

he didn't push your hand away, actually leaned his leg into your arm as you told him the story. the scary part's over, you wanted to say, you can stop hiding under the covers, now.

and so you told him about how he had hijacked your plan entirely. how you never expected to determine how good your day was based on how often you heard his laugh, how no one could have predicted how often you dreamed of his smile, how days when he was away truly felt like a loss.

"if i had known you, i never would have put you through this," you told him, finally, honestly. "i would have left you alone."

he was quiet for a moment, and then he picked his head up and looked at you, genuinely, thoughtfully. "you never would have used me to get back at your ex-fiance?" he asked, but there was not really any bite in his tone.

you tried your luck, reached up, brushed his damp hair from his forehead. "i did use you," you admitted. "and i don't have an excuse." he looked at you with clear eyes. "it was mean, and cruel, and all i can do is say that i'm so, so sorry and i will never hurt you like that again. i promise, that's the truth."

in the silent moments after you finished speaking, you closed your eyes for a brief moment, waiting for his reaction.

when you opened your eyes, he was looking at you. he opened his legs and knees wide, held open his arms, waiting. "i believe you."

it took no convincing for you to settle into the space he had created for you, to lean back against his chest, feel his heartbeat between your shoulder blades, his arms coming around your sides to clasp in front of your middle.

"you believe me?" you said, almost a whisper. you picked up his hand, held it to your chest, shocked that he was letting you. shocked that he was still here, making space for you.

you let the smell of him engulf you. it felt similar to walking into your mother's closet - the evidence of her living, loving, everywhere around you. the evidence of jack was everywhere, now, all over you, growing like some carnivorous plant over your heart.

"you promised," he said simply, into your hair.

and how spectacular it felt for someone to take you seriously, to take your words at face value, to understand that when you promised something, you meant it.

it felt like words were failing you, so you brought his hand to your mouth and pressed your lips to his palm lightly.

he hummed into your hair. "tell me about now," he said, voice steady and patient.

"hm?" you twisted your neck to look him in the eye, leaned back further until the back of your head rested on his chest.

"you told me about before. about him," he said, his eyes swimming with home, with hope. "tell me about us. tell me about now."

you searched for words, wondering how you could convey just how important he was to you, just how deeply you cared.

you could have said that his eyes were the most beautiful ocean you'd ever swam in. you could have said that kissing him felt like swallowing stardust, that listening to him talk about his day was a privilege and honor.

you could have said how you loved his voice after a long day, how he wore his emotions openly, shamelessly, how kind he was to those around him, how he didn't let you leave his house in doubt for even a second about his feelings, how he let laughter come easy, how he was many things but never, ever, indifferent.

you could have said so many things, but sometimes poetry and fancy words are inadequate, just diluting the true meaning, make it taste like watered-down juice, faint and lacking.

you could have said so many things, but you just told him the truth.

"i wake up every morning and i think of you," you said. "every moment you're not with me, i wish you were." you willed every ounce of meaning into your gaze. "you are my first choice, every time, jack. and it's not even close."

there was a silence as he processed what you said, and something like adoration dawned in his gaze like a springtime sunrise.

he tilted his head down, pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that told you he understood.

that no matter how you had gotten here, you were here, now.

"tell me again," he whispered against your mouth, and you smiled into his. that, you could do.

fin.

[dancingbirdie]

Behold my labor of love: Astarion SMUT.

This idea came to me after writing my last fic Something Imagined / Something Real. I wanted to backtrack and reimagine Astarion and Tav's first night together after the tiefling party.

If smut is not your thing, no worries! You can scroll down to the first set of asterisks (***) to avoid reading those parts. You don't miss much at all plot-wise.

This is my first time ever writing smut. Please be kind. And I hope you enjoy!

EDIT: This is a flashback fic! Part 2 is Something Imagined / Something Real. And subsequent vignettes to come!

I Want It To Be You

Rating: Mature/NSFW

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: Detailed description of consensual sex, Tav's first time having sex, descriptions and references to Astarion's trauma/trauma responses, description of panic attack/anxiety, minor Act 1 and Act 2 spoilers, FLUFF, angst

“Are you absolutely certain about this? About… me?” 

If she weren’t already lying naked in his arms, she would have shed her clothes for him for that response alone. He wasn’t treating her like some oddity. And he was honoring her decision. It was more than anything Tav had dared hope for. 

Her eyes welled with tears that threatened to fall. She laughed, suddenly elated, before nodding her head vigorously. 

“I’m sure, Astarion,” she confirmed. “I want this to be with you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TWO WEEKS AGO

THE NIGHT OF THE TIEFLING PARTY

Let’s wait until things quiet down. Once the others are asleep, we’ll find each other. 

Astarion’s parting words replayed over and over again in her head as she padded quietly through the woods, away from the campsite. From the comfort and familiarity of the party. They hadn’t agreed on a meeting place, but Tav assumed his heightened senses would locate her soon enough. She was grateful for the extra moments to herself. Her stomach was knotted from nerves and anticipation for what the night might bring. 

She hadn’t told him that she was a virgin. He probably deserved to know, she realized that, but she hadn’t wanted him to change his mind just because he’d be taking something no one else had before. It was her choice, her body to give, she reasoned to herself. Whether for the first time or the hundredth time, it shouldn’t matter. Right?

Her past experiences certainly influenced her reticence. Divulging that particular information about herself had resulted in people immediately halting romantic pursuits with her, or leering at her like she was some sort of top-shelf prize they were about to take home. She didn’t want to know if, or where, Astarion might land on that spectrum. Didn’t think her heart could take either reaction from him. Besides, she’d read enough of those dirty romance tomes and scrolls throughout her life (for educational purposes, of course, she justified to herself) to have a general understanding of what happens during sex. Surely she could bluff her way through this. Right?

She wanted to please him. Wanted him to want her as much as she wanted him. It was no secret that Astarion had quickly become her favorite companion in this unlikely band of heroes she was traveling with. He was absolutely gorgeous, of course, but the longer she lingered around him, the less that seemed to matter. He was funny, in a devilish sort of way. Intelligent and cunning. Perceptive. And, while it was obvious that it unsettled the rest of the group, she genuinely appreciated how he prioritized his own self before bending over backwards to help someone else. Secretly, she wished she could emulate that a bit more in her own life, but years and years of people pleasing to win what scraps of affection she could was a hard habit to break. 

Clearly she was no closer to doing so, as there she stood. In the middle of a forest. Preparing for a midnight tryst with a person she had just met but grown to genuinely care for. And she wasn’t even sure that he would, or wanted to, return her sentiments. 

“There you are. I’ve been waiting.”

Astarion’s voice broke the mundane quiet of the forest that had lulled her into such ruminations. She turned toward the direction she had heard him speak and marveled at the sight of him slipping gracefully between the trees, moving ever slowly toward her. 

He had removed his shirt and was clad only in his leather breeches and boots. His alabaster skin practically glowed in the silvery light of the moon. He was the most beautiful person Tav thought she had ever laid eyes on, and it wasn’t only because she could now see the taut, sinewy muscles of his abdomen. He was perfectly fit in an elegant sort of way. Not like Halsin, with large bulging biceps, thick torso and sturdy legs. No, Astarion was like a leopard. Lithe, agile, regal even. And his face. Gods, the poets and painters could opine for centuries on his beautiful face without ever growing weary. 

“Is that so?” Tav called out in reply, walking to close the distance between them. By her estimate, she sounded much braver than she felt. Good. 

Astarion nodded, raising one hand to cup her cheek. “Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you. Waiting to have you,” he finished, the pad of his thumb grazing sensually across her lower lip. 

“You don’t have me yet,” she whispered teasingly, although both of them were clearly aware of how she had shivered when he touched her. How her head bowed into his touch, like a lovesick little thing. 

“Don’t I?” he smirked. “You’re here. And I don’t think you want to talk.” He stepped closer, completely absolving them both of any personal space. His free hand came to rest along the curve of her waist. 

“I think you want to be known. To be tasted.” He purred, lowering his head so that his lips ghosted the shell of her ear while he spoke.

Tav was thankful for the steadiness of his hands on her. His insinuations alone were quickly rendering her a quaking mess. But she didn’t want to be a selfish lover, and so she collected herself enough to pose a question in return.

“What do you want, Astarion?” she asked, bringing a hand to rest softly against his chest, over his heart.

She noted the way his brows drew down briefly, seeming almost confused by her question. But as quick as it came, the expression vanished, replaced by something much more confident. More assertive.

“What do any of us want?” he breathed. “Pleasure. Yours. Mine. Our collective ecstasy.”

Gently, so very gently, he began to trail hot, open-mouth kisses down the column of her neck. Tav’s breath caught audibly in her throat, and Astarion hummed in approval at her response.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?,” he murmured into the crook of her neck. “To lose yourself in me?”

It was fast becoming difficult for her to string two thoughts together. Astarion touching her like this sent shockwaves throughout her body. That curious heat she’d only known from touching herself began to kindle low in her belly. She clenched her thighs together subconsciously, trying to sate that feeling the fire was stirring up inside her. Astarion noticed her squirming, to his immense satisfaction.

“Well?” he coaxed in between kisses across her collarbone. His prompting reminded Tav that she had yet to answer his question, so lost was she in the feeling of his cool lips against her rapidly warming skin.

“I want to be with you. Share this night with you,” she answered honestly, unable to spare enough brain capacity to consider whether or not it was a good idea to be so forthcoming. 

“Such a charitable little thing,” he chuckled. “How could I deny you?”

And then his mouth captured hers. It was a searing, passionate kiss. A kiss that promised so much more pleasure to come. One that Tav had never known before, despite having partaken in her fair share of kisses over the years. But this kiss? This was the kiss of time-fated lovers. And Tav was desperate to match Astarion’s pace, desperate to feel more, more, more.

She moaned as he ran his tongue lightly against the seam of her lips, granting him entry to fully sweep in and plunder her mouth proper. Her fingers carded through his silvery blonde curls, nails scraping lightly against his scalp. He groaned in response, the sound vibrating in her mouth. 

She finally was forced to break their kiss after a few moments, hungrily gulping in air to alleviate her starving lungs. Astarion moved to ravage her neck once more, licking and sucking the soft delicate skin there. He gripped her ass possessively as he did so, walking her backwards until he was pressing her into the nearest tree.  

He lifted a knee to knock her legs apart before raising it higher to press into the juncture of her thighs. He delighted at how Tav immediately parted her legs for him, how she moaned from the pressure, how she subconsciously began grinding against him. 

“Look at you, you naughty thing” he crooned in her ear. “Riding my leg for some relief?”

Primal behavior called out, a scarlet blush immediately bloomed on Tav’s neck and cheeks. It only goaded Astarion further. 

“Go on then, darling. Rut against me. But I’m getting these lovely tits free first,” he whispered.  

He began undoing the laces on the front of her corset. Tav watched his progress, entranced by the gracefulness of his long, slender fingers. She was nearly trembling with anticipation. Once finished, she helped him extract her from the offending garment and allowed him to lift her chemise up, over her head, so that she was fully bare from the waist up. The cool night air turned her skin to gooseflesh, her nipples hardening.  

The sensation roused her lust-addled brain enough to realize just how vulnerable she was, standing there half-naked before him. She’d never been so exposed to another person before. Her fingers fluttered as she fought the sudden bout of nerves that insisted she cover her breasts from view. 

“Don’t you dare,” Astarion growled, plainly reading the self-conscious expression on her face. “I’ve been dying to see these for days now,” he continued, cupping one full breast and flicking her nipple lightly with his thumb. 

It sent a pulse thrumming directly to her core, and Tav moaned openly at the sensation. She could feel her simple linen breeches were completely drenched, was certain she was also dampening Astarion’s leg as she continued to grind against him.

Astarion chuckled, clearly pleased by her reaction. 

“So responsive,” he whispered before lowering his mouth to latch onto her breast. He sucked lightly, while his hand continued its assault on the other. She fisted his hair in one hand, kissing the top of his head lovingly while he worked her into a frenzy.

Tav felt like she was quickly losing any ability to maintain balance. Her body was aching, whining, for more. She wanted to be laid out on the ground, wanted him to press her into the soft earth, taking everything. 

“Astarion, please,” she panted, pulling at his curls. He groaned in response, releasing her nipple from his mouth. 

“Please what, pet?” he teased, kissing and licking up her sternum. 

“I need… more,” she whined, bucking against his leg. 

He huffed a laugh before sweeping her up in one smooth motion and lowering her to the soft grass beneath their feet. 

He began to loosen the fastenings of her breeches with a practiced ease. Tav watched, breathless, as he slid the fabric down her thighs, his mouth following with indolent, open-mouthed kisses. Each touch of his lips on her heated skin left her skin tingling, her hips canting slightly into the open air.

Finally bare before him, she watched as Astarion surveyed her from where she lay beneath him. In nearly all respects, he looked primed and ready to ravage her. His nostrils flared, detecting the heady scent of her arousal. His chest rose and fell with shallow, ragged breaths. For the first time, she took note of the considerable erection straining against the leathers he still wore. 

After a moment, he came down to lie beside her, pulling her onto her side so that her chest was pressed flush against his. He trailed a hand down her side, over the rise and fall of her curves, until he reached her thigh. He hiked her leg onto his hip.

But something was off. Amid her clouded thoughts, Tav thought she could sense it, even if she couldn’t precisely put a finger on it. Perhaps it was the look in his eyes? Or the perfect nature of his behavior? He seemed almost too practiced, too formulaic. Like an actor who’s rehearsed their lines to the point that the words have lost their meaning. He was there with her, but somehow he wasn’t, at the same time. 

“Are you all right?” Tav asked in a hushed voice, lifting a hand to cup his neck. She rubbed soothing circles with her thumb across his jawline.

“I’m more than all right, darling,” he replied with a smirk, squeezing her ass lightly.

 “You seem like… you’re not wholly present,” she explained.

“It’s difficult to decide what I’d like to do to you first,” he reasoned, sidestepping her unspoken question. “I’m torn between tasting you with my tongue, or fucking you with my fingers,” he smirked. 

Before she could respond, his fingers took an experimental swipe between her folds. She gasped at the feeling, her hips bucking against him. She watched, speechless, as he lifted that hand to suck the wetness from his fingers. Her wetness. In his mouth. 

He groaned in approval. “Mmm. You’re pure sweetness, darling.” 

All thoughts eddied from her mind. A singular, primal focus took over, and she suddenly clutched at Astarion’s neck with newfound ferocity. 

He seemed to know exactly how his behavior had affected her, if his impish grin was anything to go by. He lowered his hand to swipe against her once again, his fingers stopping to circle that sensitive bud at the apex of her thighs. Tav jerked in response, but Astarion had been prepared for it. He used his other arm to brace against her back, locking her in place against him. 

As she writhed against his hand, he repositioned himself to insert a finger inside her. She was deliciously warm and soaking wet. Soft, like velvet. His thumb continued to circle her clit, eliciting a long, low moan from Tav. Embarrassed, she attempted to muffle her voice by ducking her face into his chest. 

He chuckled again. “That’s it, sweet one. Let me hear you,” he goaded her. Her moans pitched higher in response. 

After a few moments of pistoning in and out of her, he inserted a second finger. But despite how drenched she was, he met considerable resistance, to his surprise. He stilled his fingers in response, uncertain. 

It took a moment for Tav to register that Astarion had stopped moving inside her. Caught somewhere between discomfort and satisfaction, the increased sense of fullness his two fingers brought was strange but not altogether unwelcome. She exhaled, but it came out as more of a hiss than a sigh. After a moment of stillness, she raised her head to look at him.

“What is it?” she questioned..

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” Astarion murmured. 

Tav flushed. He’d realized, despite her best efforts to cover up that truth. Absently, she wondered what had given her away. 

She said nothing at first, just studied him. He didn’t seem angry. But then again, she had quickly learned that Astarion was very skilled at masking his true feelings. 

“No. I haven’t,” she admitted.  

At her reply, he gently removed his fingers from inside her. He moved his hand to clutch her hip instead. 

She sighed, rolling onto her back, gazing up at the stars. “Is that going to be a problem for you?” 

Silence. It felt deafening in her ears. But then –  

“I’m a bad choice, darling,” he replied, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly over her hip bone. She failed to see the sad smile that graced his mouth. “A terrible choice, really. For your first time.”

“It’s my decision,” she retorted, lolling her head to the side so she could look him straight in the eyes. “I want it to be you, Astarion. But if this is going to be a… problem for you, or become some ordeal where you feel guilty or weirdly triumphant, then we can just–” 

“It’s not a problem for me. It’s your decision,” he affirmed softly, interrupting the beginning of her tirade. Some unknown emotion flitted across his features. He schooled his expression before she could really identify it.

“But I have to ask,” he continued, studying her seriously. “Are you absolutely certain about this? About… me?” 

If she weren’t already lying naked in his arms, she would have shed her clothes for him for that response alone. He wasn’t treating her like some oddity. And he was honoring her decision. It was more than anything Tav had dared hope for. 

Her eyes welled with tears that threatened to fall. She laughed, suddenly elated, before nodding her head vigorously. 

“I’m sure, Astarion,” she confirmed. “I want this to be with you.”

His eyes softened, obviously touched by her response. It was the first time tonight, she realized, that he had appeared vulnerable to her. He was staring at her as though he were seeing her for the first time. Like he couldn’t believe that the woman between his arms was real. 

Without another word, he captured her mouth in a passionate kiss. His tongue swept in her mouth at the same time he inserted his fingers again, tasting her gasp of pleasure. His thumb began circling her clit once more, and Tav was powerless to silence her moans.

“Good. So good, sweet girl,” he whispered in her ear after a few moments. “You’re so close.”

She let loose a whine, squeezing her eyes shut as she chased that ever-nearing precipice inside her. Astarion’s voice in her ear only pushed her that much closer.

“That’s it. Come for me,” he urged, and she felt her orgasm rip through her at his words. Stars collided behind her eyes as she tumbled from that cliff of pleasure, Astarion holding her and whispering soft praises as she floated back down to earth. 

Eventually her eyes fluttered open to see Astarion smiling openly at her. She felt her lips stretch up to return his grin.  

“That was… incredible,” she breathed. 

He huffed a soft laugh. “I’m not nearly finished with you. Unless you’d like to sto–”

“No,” Tav blurted, a little too loudly, interrupting him. “No. I want more. Please. Show me.”

“Of course, darling” Astarion promised, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. He gently released her and stood, beginning to remove his own clothing. Tav watched him brazenly, drinking in the sight of him. 

She moaned softly as he removed his breeches, his impressive length springing free. He remained still, allowing her to take in the sight of him fully naked before her. Curious, she sat up and lifted a hand to wrap around him. She marveled at the way he felt. Like velvet-wrapped steel. She gave a tentative stroke, thrilling as he groaned in response. She stroked him again, harder, intent on learning how to give him as much pleasure as he’d already given her. 

But he stayed her wrist with a gentle touch of his hand. She paused, looking up at him, confused. 

“As exquisite as teaching you how to stroke me would be,” he explained in a sultry voice, “I’m much more interested in teaching you something else tonight.”

Tav nodded mutely, lying back once more. She opened her legs for him to return to her. Astarion smiled, lowering himself on top of her. He braced his forearms on either side of her head, one hand absently combing through her hair. His hips fit perfectly in the cradle of her thighs, and she moaned as she felt him gently nudge against her entrance. 

“This is going to hurt at first,” he explained in a hushed whisper. She nodded, her breathing a bit uneven in anticipation of what would come next. 

“But then it will stop. You’ll stretch around me. And then it will feel good,” he continued. 

She nodded again, trying to remain focused on his words. But the primal part of her mind was warring against her. And it was winning. She subconsciously bucked her hips into him, marveling as she felt him slip between her folds just slightly. He hissed at the sensation, clenching his jaw.  

“Greedy little thing,” he chastised teasingly. “All right, enough talking. But you will tell me if you need to stop, yes?” 

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, I promise.”

“Good girl,” he purred.

And then slowly, gently, he sheathed himself fully inside her with a groan. 

Tav gasped in response. It was unlike any feeling she had ever felt before. Astarion had been right; it was painful at first. A pinching sensation. A mind-bending feeling of fullness. But then, but then, the feeling was phenomenal. She felt her walls stretch to accommodate him, felt herself clench around him, accepting him in his entirety. 

Astarion’s head dropped to the crook of her neck. His whole body trembled, as if it was taking all his restraint to remain still so she could grow accustomed to him. 

She canted her hips into him a bit, testing the waters. He groaned again in response, and she released a breathy chuckle. 

He raised his head at the sound, peering down at her. “You little minx,” he breathed. “You have no idea what you’ve started.”

She thrilled at his words, crying out in ecstasy as he began to thrust in and out of her. The pace he set was addicting; the rhythm had her pushing her hips up to meet him, her legs locked around his back to pull him closer.

“You’re taking me so, so well, darling,” Astarion grunted, ratcheting up his pace. “You’re so tight. So. Perfectly. Fucking. Tight.” 

His words were a fuel to her flame. She cried out his name again and again as he continued to rut into her, reveling in the feeling of him claiming her completely and totally. She was lost to the sensations, adrift in the fullness of Astarion inside her. 

Finally, or perhaps all too soon, she felt his pace begin to grow more erratic. His hips lost their rhythmic pumping. His groans grew louder. Sensing his release was close, Tav clutched him tighter, digging her heels in his back to pull him closer, clenching around his length inside her. 

“Yes, yes, FUCK,” he barked all at once, and her eyes rolled back into her head as he slammed himself to the hilt inside of her one final time. She could feel his release spilling inside her. 

Lost for words, she simply held Astarion as he half-collapsed on top of her, one arm still braced on the ground beside her head. Listless, euphoric, and utterly at peace, Tav raised one arm to gently caress his back, listening to his erratic breaths slow. Distantly, she noted the raised, rough sensation of scars on his upper back, but she was too consumed by their mutual pleasure to give it a further thought. 

Eventually, Astarion slipped out of her. He lowered himself to lie down beside her, curling one arm around her waist. 

Tav closed her eyes and curled into his side, suddenly overcome with drowsiness. “Thank you, Astarion” she whispered faintly. 

“For what, my darling?” he crooned, tucking an errant curl behind her ear. 

“For making my first time so wonderful,” she replied. 

She was asleep before he could think of a sufficient response. 

***

The panic was a monstrous thing. Clawing at his chest, its vice-like grip squeezing his lungs until inhaling felt like breathing through a reed. He could barely think. Barely move. Barely registered the lovely woman still sleeping peacefully beside him. 

The part of his brain that wasn’t frozen in fear chastised himself for behaving this way. He had taken plenty of virgins before. In fact, he had sought them out specifically. They were a much easier prey. They became attached to him so quickly, attributed so much more meaning to their first bout of lovemaking than perhaps more… seasoned individuals. 

He should have been elated. She was obviously besotted with him. His plan to ensure her loyalty was moving forward without a hitch. So then why was he feeling so horrible?

He turned to observe Tav. So close to him and yet so far away. Swept into that blissful sleep that continued to elude him. He watched her chest rise and fall with deep, steady breaths. Watched her eyelids twitch as her mind made its way through some dream. She was so very vulnerable in this position. And so very trusting. Of him, of all people. 

Astarion didn’t like many people. But he had developed a fondness for Tav, despite the short period of time they had known one another. She treated him like a person, not a monster. Not like the others in their party. She seemed to accept him for who he was, cynicism and vanity and all. He couldn’t remember ever knowing someone as kind to him as she was. She was… incredible.

And then it struck him. He was developing… something… for her. Feelings? Affection? The sentiments were so foreign to him, he didn’t even know what to call it. 

But the realization caused panic to clutch him even tighter. No. He couldn’t feel this way. He wouldn’t. 

This thing with Tav was purely transactional. It had to be. There was no other viable option. She had needed to feel something with someone. He had needed to secure an ally. That was all.

That is all this is, he thought, quashing the weak sentimental part of his mind. 

And come morning, he resolved he would make certain that that was all this was for her as well.  

***

Tav woke to the sound of birds chirping, high in the trees above her. The early morning sunlight filtered in through the forest, dappling her skin and warming her in the places that it touched. Opening her eyes, she spied Astarion, already dressed and standing a few paces in front of her. 

His back was facing her, his face lifted toward the sun. She noted how he held his arms outstretched by his sides, palms facing up as though he were trying to collect all the sunlight pouring into their little grove. Despite his preternatural sense of hearing, he didn’t seem to be aware that she’d awoken, so lost was he in his enjoyment of the sun’s rays. 

Tav’s heart nearly swelled to bursting as she watched him. Before all of this, he hadn’t felt the sunlight on his skin in over 200 years. Now, he was reveling in it. His joy was such an innocent, pure thing. 

How many times had Tav taken the sun warming her skin for granted? Probably all of her life, she supposed. To see someone so appreciative of something so utterly mundane to her… well, it was a sobering reminder to acknowledge those little pleasures in life, especially the ones that seemed so constant to her. 

She also took the time to study the strange pattern of scars on his back. She had felt some of the rough ridges last night, as she clutched him closer while he spilled himself inside her. But she hadn’t realized just how intricate and intentional the markings were. The sight of them sparked a rage inside her. Whoever the monster was who’d done this to him, they deserved to pay a price worse than death. 

Someday soon, she swore she would ask him about those markings. But not today. Not right now. Not in the aftermath of spending such a wonderful night together. No, the only thing she wanted for them both today was to revel in post-coital bliss. 

Not wishing to startle him, Tav intentionally laid back to stretch out her blissfully sore muscles, rustling the grass and fallen leaves around her. She threw in a halfhearted yawn for good measure. Secretly, she hoped he would return to her, take her again in this quiet forest, beneath the warmth of the sun.

“You sleep light,” Astarion chuckled, half-turning to speak to her but not meeting her gaze. “I thought you’d be exhausted after last night.” 

Tav hesitated at his tone. It wasn’t cold per se, but he sounded much more guarded than he had been last night. Perhaps she was just being extra sensitive in light of what they had shared, she reasoned.

“Did you enjoy it?” she asked hesitantly. She watched his back, waiting for a reply. “It felt like… you weren’t truly there…” she added, after a beat of silence. 

“I was… holding back a little, it’s true,” he finally responded. “I didn’t want to lose control. Delicious as you were… I didn’t want to go too far.”

“Oh, I see,” Tav replied, a bit dismayed. “I’m sorry you felt that way.”

Astarion turned and gave her a trademark smirk. “Think nothing of it, darling. Now,” he intoned, clapping his hands together. “Shall we get on? We’ve wasted enough time already.”

The words were like a lance to her heart. 

“I… I didn’t consider it a waste,” she murmured, trying with some difficulty to hide her hurt. 

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Astarion huffed. “I just meant I’d like to break camp and get out of here before those tieflings drag us into another one of their messes.”

“Sure, of course,” Tav nodded, smiling up at him, though it came across as more of a grimace. Then she broke eye contact, bending over under the guise of collecting her discarded clothing. Really, she didn’t think she could look at him a moment longer without crying. 

“I still need to dress,” she said, attempting a casual sort of air. “You go ahead without me.”

She sensed rather than saw Astarion hesitate at her suggestion. 

“Are you sure? We’re a fair walk from camp. I can spare a few moments and wait.”

“Positive,” she replied with false cheer. “Go on ahead. The last thing either of us need is the party jeering at us if we’d return together.” 

“Fair point,” Astarion conceded. “All right. Then… I’ll see you, back at camp.” Then he was walking away, back toward the direction of their fellow party members.

Tav waited until she could no longer hear his footsteps before she let loose a quiet sob. She wasn’t exactly sure why she was crying. Maybe it was just the stress of everything that had finally overwhelmed her. Maybe it was how abysmally this morning had gone. She didn’t know how she’d expected the morning after a sexual tryst to go, but she certainly hadn’t imagined what had just taken place. She hadn’t expected Astarion to slip that aloof mask he wore so well immediately back on, not when it was still just the two of them here. 

Then again, she reasoned, perhaps there was a perfectly justifiable reason for his actions. They barely knew one another, after all. He didn’t owe her anything beyond general respect. They hadn’t made any promises or ties to one another. They had simply agreed on a night of pleasure. That night had passed on. She should move on as well. Right?

But she had hoped. Oh, she had hoped. That maybe last night could have been the start of something new for her. For both of them. She knew she was a dreamer at heart. But still, part of her couldn’t help but hope that some silver lining would come out of all of this mess. 

In any case, she knew she needed to pull herself together before reentering the camp. She would not let anyone see her cry, especially Astarion. So she remained standing in the grove for a few moments longer, collecting herself. 

She forced her mind to focus on anything, anything else. She counted the birds she saw flitting amongst the tree limbs. She watched leaves swirling in their light, airy dance toward the ground. And she said a silent prayer to whatever gods were out there and possibly listening. She prayed that everything would work out the way it was meant to be.

[lazycats-stuff]

Batfam at a gala with the reader being dubbed the "hearttrob", the reader is really handsome and nearly everybody wants to get into his pants. However, the reader is actually a really innocent and the family is always on a mission to stop anyone from talking to the reader who just wants to get him into their bed. They're like "nuh uh he only deserves the best"

Oh God, chaos is about to ensue lol. Just everyone being, nope.

Summary: The fam protects their handsome brother.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, people trying to get into (Y/N)'s pants, protective family...

Out of the 5 sons that Bruce has, both adopted and biological, all of them were handsome in their own way. But (Y/N) was the most handsome one, even more handsome than Damian, who was a second contender to the title. Bruce has never ever made any of them feel bad about it.

Besides, none of them really cared about that title anyway. It was bullshit according to them, but... They had agreed that (Y/N) was the most handsome one. That was something that they couldn't deny in the slightest. They all have agreed that if they weren't brothers, they would try and date him.

Of course, that's what a lot of people tried to do and (Y/N) was called a heartthrob for it. He was often in magazines, gossip ones whilst wearing something nice or casual and the internet would simply explode. It has happened a few times before and it was amusing and Jason nearly died from laughing every single time it happened.

God forbid he gets an Instagram or anything like that.

Internet would not survive in any way, shape or form.

Galas were more often that not insane to deal with. (Y/N) was always a genuine person who would really want to love someone, someone who wouldn't use him for like bragging rights or anything similar. When (Y/N) loves, he loves.

That's something that his brothers knew, alongside Bruce of course. So, being a protective they are, they made a pact to protect (Y/N) from people who would only want to sleep with him. There were many douchebags like that, who only want to get in (Y/N)'s pants.

It was nuts.

The same thing was happening tonight, at a gala for some charity. It was for the homeless people of Gotham city. (Y/N) was dressed sharply, in a classic black suit with a white shirt. Of course, he finished his look with a black tie. He moved around the room to talk to people, avoiding the knows reporters. He wasn't interested in them.

He was more interested in something else and that was his bed. Just two more hours.

However, the others noticed people looking at him, eyeing him like he was a piece of meat for them. A prize. Prey. A trophy. It didn't sit well with any of the family members. (Y/N) deserves nothing more than the best partner he could get.

Only the best.

Jason was eyeing a man who was looking at his brother and has made a move. He started walking towards his brother, but Jason was one step ahead. They were all wearing earpieces, just like on patrol. Jason lifted his glass of wine. " A man is on the move. Tim, he is in your line of sight. " Jason murmured, hiding his mouth with his glass of wine.

Tim turned his head from a man he was talking to and excused himself, quickly making his way to his brother before the douchebag could even reach him.

" Hey (Y/N), Jason wanted to talk to you. " Tim said as he patted his shoulder and (Y/N) nodded, leaving to find Jason, who heard it all and was now trying to figure out a reason to talk to (Y/N).

Tim turned his head to look at the man, who was glaring at Tim. Tim was thoroughly unimpressed.

" I know exactly what you want with my brother. I have seen it time and time before. It won't happen. " Tim said coldly and turned around, leaving the angry man behind.

Damian and Dick smirked from their spots. It was amazing to see it. Truly amazing.

And (Y/N) always turned a blind eye to it. It was either for the reason that he didn't want to deal with people or he simply didn't know. He always played dumb for it, but they all suspected that he knew.

Either way, it soothed the protective urge in them. Bruce knew what they were doing and he was doing absolutely nothing to stop his boys. Only if it was physical. Only then he would step in.

And Alfred? Alfred was the silent watcher, listening and waiting. He listened because most men like that brag about things and are bound to uncover something about themselves. And Alfred is never wrong. He always saw right through them.

As Jason and (Y/N) were talking, the others remained vigilant. It was far more interesting this way. More fun at this gala. Not just this one, but the others too. Far more interesting.

(Y/N) got himself some whiskey and just sipped it slowly. It was a nice evening. Damian moved around, seeing a man walking in the general direction of (Y/N). Damian moved through the crowd of people, watching the man like a hawk.

There was something way off about him. Something was way off. Damian couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew that he couldn't ignore the feeling. If there is one thing that Damian was taught, it was to never ignore his gut feeling about people.

He kept following the man, seeing a lustful gaze in his eyes. That bastard. Damian's eyes narrowed at the man, especially when (Y/N) left to go to the bathroom. Damian's mind went into overdrive, knowing that (Y/N) would be vulnerable there.

" I'm moving to the bathroom. " Damian murmured as he approached the bathroom, making sure to keep some distance. He smudged his shirt a bit to have an excuse to go to the bathroom. He entered it, seeing someone chatting up (Y/N).

Damian cleared his throat as he approached the sinks. " (Y/N), father wants to talk to you. Says it's important. " Damian said and Bruce chuckled through the earpiece.

" Thanks Dames. " (Y/N) said with a smile and excused himself from the conversation he was having with a polite smile. The man kept up a polite smile until (Y/N) left and turned to Damian with a scowl. Damian had to control an urge to not laugh in his face.

" Listen kid, don't ruin this for me. " The man said and Damian kept his cool.

" I know who you are. Your father is a business partner of WE. And Bruce Wayne is protective of his sons so don't make me tell him what you said. " Damian said coldly, but Bruce already heard it. But of course, will keep it quiet as long as the man is somewhat respectful.

Now, the last sentence alone made the man scared. It was a well known fact that Bruce Wayne doesn't take any disrespect about his sons. Of any kind. Damian smirked as he saw that the man has paled.

Damian left without a word and saw Dick who smirked too. " Good job Damian. " Dick said as he high fived Damian in passing, composing himself quickly as the man hurried out of the bathroom, clearly distressed.

The two smirked, making Tim snort from where he watched them with Connor. Bruce subtly rolled his eyes at that, but was happy that Damian took control.

And (Y/N)? He simply remained unbothered, chatting away with Alfred, who was happy to stop for a good chat with his grandson.

[leovenuslatina]

Mind of Mine ᡣ𐭩 •｡

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

a look into your lovers thoughts about you

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 !!

psa- tarot readings are not set in stone at the end of the day you have full control of your reality not some random hottie on the internet w cards so take what resonates and leave the rest 💓((dm for personal readings prices 💗))

take a deep cleansing breathe

pick a pile that calls to you

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 !!

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 !!

pile one - The Tower, knight of cups

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆

pile one your fs views your presence in their life as a huge shift in a good way you came into their life and just flipped everything around. you take up lots of space in their mind pile 1 you’re like all they think about. they think about how much you’ve changed them for the better. you opened opened up a whole new chapter for them a whole new perspective they’ve never seen before. they think of you as an inspiration in their life because you’re determined and have so much drive. they truly view you as their biggest muse. they think of you as impulsive and adventurous to them you’re so compassionate and caring they also think about all the adventures they want to take you on.

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆extra ⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆

new start, abrupt change, chaos, energy, impulsive, charming , hero , warm,

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

pile two - queen of pentacles, justice

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆

the way your FS thinks about you is about how well the both of you fit together like puzzle pieces or magnets made to be together. they think about how they finally found their perfect match. they think about how easy it is to be with you how you make life seem so much better like food taste better and color are brighter and songs sound better. they think about how this is the first relationship we’re someone has taken so much care about getting to know them for who they really are they think about what a genuine person they are and how they feel completely safe with you around 🥹💗. they also think about how freaking gorgeous you are pile 2 they seriously can’t believe such a god/goddess they can’t believe what other worldly beauty you have. your fs thinks about how you feel like a blessing in their life like you are some sort of reward for all the shit things they’ve ever gone through. i’m also seeing them thinking about how they can impress you they always want to keep your attention they know you’re a prize and they want you to always be theirs.

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆ extra ⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆

abundance, rocker aesthetic, good luck, charm, creativity, green, romance, honesty, money, wealth, practical skills, prosperity, balance, equality, fairness,

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

pile three - ace of wands, queen of cups

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆

your spouse is very possessive in a cute way tho they definitely think of you as theirs: their prize , their love , their life. they know you aren’t a piece of property they just see you as their most precious thing in their life rn. pile 3 your FS thinks about starting a family and having a house full of kids that our part both of you. pile 3 your FS thinks of you as someone who is smart and wise. they also think of you as soft and femme even if you aren’t a female they still think of you as a soft person who deserves the best things only. you might be younger than your FS pile 3 but they see you as super mature no matter what age you are they feel like they teach you and guide you through life but you also teach them so much. they think about how in touch you are with your feelings and how good you are at expressing yourself they love how sensitive you are with your feelings and those around you they think of you as a nurturing and loving light in their life.

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆ extra ⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆

golden, new beginnings, intuitive, pink flowers, wise , model , swan 🦢, lake , natural beauty, feminine, motherly

───────── ౨ৎ ────

[munsonslove]

Five Times (part one: 1-3)

(18+ only)

summary: A stressful day at work leads to Eddie promising to make you cum over and over until your head is empty.

wordcount: 4.7k

tags/warnings: fem!sub!reader, dom!Eddie, established relationship, smut, dumbification, degradation, praise kink, choking, spitting in mouth, hair pulling, biting, squirting, overstim, dacryphilia, fingering (fem receiving), oral (fem receiving), he’s kinda mean in this but like in a you want him to be a lil mean to you way not like he’s an actual asshole way

a/n: listen. i’ve had a very stressful year and the idea of just being allowed to be dumb and not have to worry about anything is very appealing. part 2 with more smut to come...

Today marked the one month anniversary since your (well deserved) promotion. You could finally say with confidence that your career was more than just taking notes and getting coffee for those in higher up positions. Still, this growth came with hard work, late nights, stress, and snide remarks from the men at the office who chalked your success up to low cut shirts worn around the boss. Which is ridiculous cause you’re not even sure that man had ever seen your clavicle, much less any cleavage.

Thankfully, this stress subsided by your wonderful relationship. Although Eddie loved and respected you, he knew that sometimes the responsibilities of adult life weighed on you like a million tons. He genuinely thought you were one of the smartest and most impressive people he’s ever met, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t give you what you needed. And what you needed was an escape from the overthinking and worrying- permission to turn your brain off and give yourself over to pleasure. 

There was a tell you subconsciously gave when your psyche craved that escape: when you pass through the entranceway of your shared home and Eddie comes to welcome you at the door, instead of greeting him with a smile and hug, you simply keep your arms limp at your sides as you collapse into him and bury your face in his neck.

That’s precisely how your arrival happened this evening, and Eddie wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you as he tenderly kissed your temple and led you to the bedroom. Along the way, he spoke no words as he helped you strip yourself of the restricting uniform of your day to day life. Heels are abandoned at the front door, a few feet from them a discarded blazer, then a little farther down the hallway was a crumpled pile of nylon that was once stockings. 

Now inside the room, Eddie sat you down on the edge of the mattress as his nimble fingers undid the buttons of your blouse and unhooked your slightly-too-tight underwire bra. Once your top half was completely bare, you laid back and lifted your hips up so that he could slide your skirt and panties down your legs in one quick motion.

As you settled into bed and got comfortable, Eddie tossed the worn clothes to the side and looked down at you with dark eyes. After flashing a crooked grin, he climbed onto the bed and rested on his knees. Kneeling before you, he starts laughing quietly.

“Well, well, well,” he whispered, mostly to himself. “Look at this pretty little prize I have all to myself.”

He didn’t permit any talking yet, so you remain silent. Instead, you laid there in anticipation while waiting impatiently for his next move. His calloused fingers leave goosebumps in their wake as he trails them from your belly button to your waist. When they reach the end of their journey, his hands suddenly grip with determination as he moves you how he pleases. Your body is pliant and powerless while he arranges you the way he needs you to be, something that he is glaringly proud about.

“You’re tired of pretending, aren’t you? Pretending you’re not my mindless little doll?” he murmurs with a smirk, and your thighs instinctively twitch to shut from the wave of arousal his tone sends through you. “Well, I doubt I could fuck the stupid out of you, but I can try.”

His assured, unwavering certainty was soul shattering. What once was hesitant enthusiasm is now teetering on full blown alarm when memories flood your brain of your doting boyfriend nearly bruising your pelvis from the valor he exhibited in washing away your bad days with orgasms. That turning in your stomach only heightened your senses, pulling feeble whimpers out of you with embarrassingly minimal contact. 

“My pretty girl,” he tutted with a mischievous lilt. “Need me to turn that brain off, huh? How about you let me play with you?”

You nod in response as the butterflies in your stomach turn violent and almost make you feel sick. Finally, all thoughts of whether or not paperwork was filled out correctly and filed in the right places are gone, and the only thing you can think of is Eddie’s burning hot touch on your skin.

“Wha’sa matter? Can’t use your big girl words?” he asks, slurring a bit as the lust clouds his senses. “That’s alright, I’ll do all the talking. Just focus on turning off that brain,” his voice is now growing low and raspy, and you feel his fingers twitching on your waist as he resists the itch to touch you. “That’s what you’re best at, isn’t it? Being my sweet, dumb girl. The only thing you’re good at is being a drooly little mess for me.”

What he’s saying should be demeaning, but it only makes you more turned on. His grip loosens as his fingernails scratch their way down toward your center. When he reaches your mound, just above your slickened lips, he slows down. Obviously, he wants to make you desperate enough that he can watch you squirm.

“Nnngh,” you whine, exasperated. “Eddie, please…”

“Needy fucking slut,” he chastises, but his eyes reveal more amusement than authority. He has to hold back the huff of laughter that threatens its way up his throat as he continues. “You’re gonna wait like the good girl I know you are. You wanna know how I know?”

Your eyebrows pinch together as you try to not cry from the frustration, and you make a small humming noise while shrugging your shoulders.

“Because,” he starts as his fingers finally make contact with your aching cunt. They slide easily along your folds, causing a choked gasp in reaction from you. “Only good girls have wet pussies like this. That’s my proof- good girls have wet, dripping pussies. And you’re always dripping for me, aren’t you, princess?”

“Mhm,” you agree as your legs open wider. The amount of concentration it takes to not buck your hips into his touch is overwhelming, but you manage to bear it. “Oh, please Eds. Need it so bad.”

“I know you do, sweetheart,” he cooed patronizingly, leaving one short peck between your furrowed brows. “But do you deserve it?”

Your toes are starting to cramp by the force they’re curling in with. “I- I think I-“

“You don’t think, you obey,” he corrects sternly, cutting off your stuttering. “You’re a brainless toy for me to use, don’t you know that?”

“Yes, yes I know,” you moan while nodding your head harder, hoping that your compliance will make him want to speed up his process.

Your plan succeeds, but not as much as you’d ideally hope. Eddie’s curious touches migrate from skimming up and down your slit to rubbing at the very top, effectively granting your clit just enough pressure to have you wanting more. A few stray tears fall from their ducts out of relief, and velvet soft lips wipe the moisture away before you even detected it. The rough pad of his middle finger glides smoothly around the bud thanks to your wetness- pushing it up, down, and side to side with ease. His other hand is pressed flat against the inside of your thigh, both holding your legs open and occasionally caressing comfortingly.

“This cute little button needed some attention, did it? Are you happy now? Done being a whiny fucking brat?” he asks, chuckling mockingly. You’re writhing and sighing, almost too distracted to respond, but you do manage to nod your head. Eddie’s not satisfied with your wordless answer.

“Getting dumber already?” he goes on to add, and his hand freezes between your legs. “I asked you a question, silly girl.” Though trying to portray total control, you can tell he’s suppressing a smile.

“Y- yes!” you supply shakily, your stutter making your panic apparent. “I’m s- sorry. I’m done being a br- brat.”

Eddie tsks three times, as if scolding a pet. The implication of that has you shuddering once again. His hand continues its ministrations. “And what do we say, hmm?”

“Thank you!” you gasp out as his pressure and speed both increase. “Oh, thank you.” Your calves tremble, despite how still you’re trying to keep them. 

“God, look how messy this little hole is for me. She’s fucking begging for my fingers. I think she’s gonna cum real fast, how ‘bout you?” he asks, his eyes glazing over as he languidly strokes your sensitive clit. “Stay still now, baby.”

But it’s impossible to not squirm as Eddie pinches and rolls the nub between his fingers. He’s ruthless and tooth-rottingly sweet all at once. You wriggle in his hold, your muscles jerking of their own accord, rutting your hips into his expert touch. Weight pushes you deeper into the mattress, forcing you to still- per his previous instructions.

“I know, princess, I know,” he comforts. “It’s hard to follow orders when your brain is so empty. Just keep those pretty eyes on me. You can at least do that, can’t you?”

You fight to not let your heavy eyelids flutter shut. It’s a struggle, but Eddie’s eyes being laser focused on yours makes it slightly easier. As he continues rubbing your clit so perfectly, his other hand moves to cradle your jaw. His thick thumb frees your bottom lip from where it was trapped between your teeth, and breaks the barrier into your more than willing mouth. He presses down on your tongue, just far back enough to slightly trigger your gag reflex but careful to not cause too much discomfort. Then his hand retreats, breaking the trance that had you fixated on his hypnotic gaze. 

You whimper a weak protest as your tongue extends over your chin and attempts to follow his fingers. This effort brings your head a couple inches off the pillow, only to have it slammed back down when he unexpectedly grabs your throat. The cool metal of his rings are a stark contrast to your heated skin. With his palm now pushing into your windpipe, you let out a puff of air in shock and wrap your hands around his wrists. 

“What’s wrong, baby? Can’t breathe?” he asks, but the way he says it suggests that he doesn’t actually care. He’s clearly enjoying the way you’re currently clawing at his forearm.

You try to plead for mercy, but can’t find the power to form a sentence beyond weak gasps for air. All you can do is try to blink away the blur in your vision as your head gets hazier and hazier.

He responds with a merciless laugh, then loosens his grip just enough to allow oxygen to enter your lungs once more before leaning forward and spitting into your still open mouth without warning. The force of it hits your tongue and causes his spit to splatter onto the roof of your mouth. You can’t help the volume of the broken moan that involuntarily leaves you. You also can’t help the way your hips buck up- making his fingers slip from your clit, which only turns your satisfied groan into a distressed whine.

“Poor thing,” he hums while putting on a faux-sympathetic pout, his lower lip jutting out sarcastically and his eyebrows upturning. 

He leans down to gently kiss your cheek, so light and quick that you barely even feel it. All you can focus on is his weight on top of you, chest pressed to yours with his arm wedged in between so that he can continue lazily toying with your clit, much to your relief. Eddie’s nose trails along your cheekbone until his hot, humid breath is tickling your ear. Lips move against your earlobe as he whispers his next words.

“Do you even realize how fucking pathetic you look right now?” he asks. “You probably don’t care though. Too much of a desperate fucking slut. Say it.”

“I’m a desperate slut,” you immediately comply.

The hand being used to lightly choke you breaks contact for a moment, only long enough for Eddie to push himself up onto his knees, before returning to its place on your neck. From there, he can comfortably look down at you while he continues to squeeze your neck and bring you closer to orgasm.

He grins at you like he’s proud, eyes wet and sentimental. It almost sounds loving the way he says, “That’s right. My desperate slut.”

Everything’s gone fuzzy. Any outside stimulant other than the man on top of you can’t reach your senses. It was like the two of you were covered in a heavy blanket, instead of being in the cool open air of your shared bedroom. The rest of the world felt so distant- a million miles away- that you couldn’t even remember any of the stresses that were previously bothering you. The pressure Eddie is applying to your throat isn’t tight enough to drastically affect your airflow anymore, so he and you both know that this is just the natural effect he has on you.

“Are you there so soon? I’ve already rubbed your mind away?” He sounds almost disappointed as he shakes his head disapprovingly. “We just started. Why do you have to be such a greedy whore?”

You know he’s just playing into his role. You know he doesn’t really mean it, and that he’s only trying to help ease you more into the headspace you crave so badly. But still, you feel the overwhelming urge to do whatever it takes for him to call you a good girl.

“I’m sorry. I can hold it,” you try to assure, without being entirely sure that it’s the truth. The tightness in your stomach is growing at an alarming rate.

“Don’t bother,” he tells you, sarcastically exaggerating a bored sigh. “What, you didn’t think I was gonna let you off that easy, did you? Surely even you aren’t that dumb.” His face leans dangerously close to yours as he emphasizes that last ‘you’, and his voice turns low and threatening. “I’m gonna make you cum a minimum of five times tonight, might as well get one over with now.”

And with that guarantee, you feel the dam break. He never even got around to fingering you, but you had a suspicion that that was next on the list. Rough kneading at your breast and lips once again attaching themself to your pulse point is what tipped you off that he had finally released your throat. Your head was thrown back- giving his mouth easy access- and your knees bent as your thighs squeezed together tight, trapping him there. Though, the quiet sound of your breathy moans and beauty of your scrunched up face made him want to stay there forever, so he personally wouldn’t describe it as ‘trapped’. 

“Good girl,” he growls, sounding crazed and cruel. “Look so cute like this. Sound so cute too. Like a fucking pathetic slut.”

His left hand began pinching at your nipples while the right’s movement on your clit remained throughout the duration of your climax, not ending until teary begging for him to stop alerted him to your overstimulation. He decided to allow you a moment to breathe, but only briefly. As your chest rises and deflates rapidly, your earlier suspicion proved true. Eddie’s vow of at least five orgasms was no empty promise, it was an oath. His middle finger slid eagerly down your puffy lips until reaching your entrance, where you promptly stopped him.

“Eddie, wait!” you exclaim, pushing his still determined hands away and attempting to cover your mound with your own. “I can’t cum again so soon!”

He outright scoffs at that, finally tearing his attention away from the area you’re pointlessly failing to defend to stare at you incredulously. “Now princess, we both know that’s not true. Who are you trying to fool?”

To an outsider this might seem mean, but you know that one utterance of your safeword would have Eddie’s dominance melting away in an instant. Truthfully, his dedication to ruin you with a second orgasm so closely followed by the first only excited you more- something that is no secret to him. You were still nervous about what he was going to do to you though, and this was made apparent from the way you crossed one ankle over the other- effectively shielding yourself from his touch.

“Aw, is someone shy?” he asked, feigning sympathy. You nod, but it’s ineffective at changing his mind. “I don’t care. Spread your legs.”

You didn’t set out to follow his order so willingly. His brash way of speaking had your body moving without any input from your brain, shifting each ankle to opposite sides of the mattress and baring yourself to him unabashedly despite your inner modesty.

“You’re mean,” you complained with an exaggerated frown, downplaying the rush of wanting that soared through you.

“Yeah?” he snickered as his hand returned to its spot between your legs, coating the slick from your previous orgasm on his fingers before forcing them deep inside you all at once. “Well you’re wet.”

Without warning, the two middle fingers of his right hand bury themselves to the hilt before curling upward, expertly finding their favorite spot inside you within seconds. The small band on his ring finger pushed past the threshold of your opening, entering into you. It was insultingly obvious the way you could differentiate the cool, smooth metal from his warm, rough skin. You could even feel the ridge where bare skin now became shielded by silver jewelry. That bump and the sensations it caused on your sensitive inner walls were so addicting. The intensity was almost too much to brave, but after all this time you trusted Eddie to know your limits even better than you did. 

His free hand finds purchase on your waist, holding firmly as if to silently instruct you to stay still. Whispered curses slip through your gritted teeth, and they only slightly assist you in enduring the direct targeting of your g-spot. While you couldn’t see his expression, you had a feeling the sight of you wiping away the water pooling at your eyes was only stirring Eddie more.

“Keep crying,” he says, trying to sound intimidating but unable to keep the fondness out of his voice. “Not that it’ll get you anywhere, but you look real pretty crying under me.”

“Please, please I wanna-“ you start, only to be interrupted by your own abrupt gasp when he begins moving. He’s pumping in and out of you at a pace that- while not slow- he’s well aware won’t be enough.

“Christ, do you hear yourself? ‘P-p-p-please,” he mocks, mimicking your expression. His condescending tone lacked any compassion, despite the grin that betrayed his features afterwards.

“Please, Eddie,” you try again, hoping that he’ll hear your overwhelming lust and take pity. “I wanna cum on your cock.”

“Oh? What happened to ‘I can’t cum again’, hm?” he asks. He does seem to feel a little sorry for his teasing, however, seeing as he hastens to what he’s discovered in the past to be the perfect tempo for you. “You’ll get my cock when I say you can have my cock and you’ll be grateful.”

All you’re able to do is nod in agreement, being far too weakened to fight back anymore. Eddie’s perfect aim has his fingers finding your g-spot with each forward lunge of his arm, and it’s barreling you toward another orgasm far too quickly. The muscles in your neck move involuntarily, and you steal one last glance at your lover before your head is thrown back completely. He’s watching you, eyes wide with adoration- which would fill your heart if past experiences didn’t tell you that meant for a very long night (and a very sore morning). 

The crown of your skull is flat on the pillow beneath your head as a long guttural groan escapes from somewhere deep within. Your fated second climax of the night shows no remorse, stealing all the breath from your lungs and leaving your legs shaking. Eddie also lacks remorse, his fingers never losing speed as your walls clench around them. Arousal gushed over his hand and onto the sheets, leaving a sticky mess that you were too gone to care about. His comforting touch settles over your spasming diaphragm in an halfhearted attempt to help calm you after you start to thrash, but the way he drags your orgasm out with quite a few more thrusts than necessary proves how much he is enjoying this.

“There you go, princess,” he purrs. “Feel all of it, you deserve it.”

It was like your body had become too tight, cramping your stomach from the strong contractions. Simultaneously, it was also as if you were exploding out of your goosebump-littered skin. While somewhat sensing the strain of your vocal chords, you couldn't recognize the voice echoing profanity throughout the room. All you could manage to focus on was the sound of Eddie coaxing you through your comedown, his usual baritone barely audible as he shushed you and stroked your hair.

“Catch your breath baby, nice and slow. We’re not done yet,” he murmured softly, the devious glint in his eyes returning when his promise sent an obvious shiver down your spine.

“Such a good little slut,” he praised, “Probably have no idea how fucking hard you’re making me right now. Don’t have much ideas about anything, really, other than how bad you wanna be fucked stupid.”

“So bad,” you agreed, barely able to comprehend what was being said to you. “So, so bad.”

Confusion floods you when he rolls his eyes at your response. There’s a quiet muttering coming from his moving lips, something sounding like ‘... -proving my point,’ but you’re too caught up in the way he closes the distance between his and your mouths.

Time stills as you allow his kiss to absorb you and melt your mind. You’re not sure exactly how long it took until he determined that you were ready for more, but you suspected that he was purposely granting you time to recover before enacting his next course of action (ever the gentleman no matter how inexplicably turned on him disrespecting you made you feel). He kissed you breathless until that ache in your bones returned, the need for him coming back in full force. After what could have been minutes or hours, Eddie parted from your still desperate body.

He pushed himself off of you leisurely before positioning you horizontally across the bed. Hands sank into the dip of your waist, seizing both sides of your torso and dragging your pelvis to the very edge of the mattress. Then, he fell to his knees on the carpet and hooked your legs over his shoulders. His arms wrap around from the underside of your thighs, holding them in place and leaving no room for resistance. Now that he had you exactly how he wanted you, he mouthed at the delicate skin of your inner thighs- gentle nips and kisses to the left before switching and unexpectedly biting down on the flesh of the right. You yelp at the unexpected sting, and though he was careful not to draw blood, there will surely be a darkened mark replicating the shape of his canines there the next day.

“Is my girl ready for number three?” he asks, smiling up at you looking entirely too sure of himself, yet somehow remaining endearing. “Gonna drain what little is left inside that pretty head. Gonna make you lose some IQ points.”

You’re now completely engulfed in euphoria, the natural high from an overproduction of hormones in your brain is incomparable to any substance you’ve sampled before. While still distracted trying to control your smiling in this loopy state, Eddie takes the opportunity to catch you by surprise. He licks a long stripe up your glistening sex, spanning from your leaking hole to your swollen clit.

Ditzy giggles are interrupted by a choked gasp, and the bed sheets loosen from the corners when your hands grasp at them and pull. This reaction produces a smirk from the man between your legs. You feel his lips stretch wide, the movement slightly lifting your clitoral hood and allowing access for his teeth to scrape against the sensitive bundle of nerves underneath. It’s too much, and you instinctively try to scoot backwards, only to be reminded that he’s holding you in place. Though obviously aware of your attempts to escape his busy mouth, he shows no signal that he plans to ease up. 

His technique shifts from long flat licks into stiffening the very tip of his tongue and flicking it back and forth over your clit. He keeps this up until you’re squirming under him, only to relax his tongue once more and allow the muscle to melt against your center. It’s messy and uncalculated, and you can feel his drool dripping down over your ass and wetting the sheets even more. You’re not surprised the simple act of eating you out has Eddie salivating, he’s been obsessed with getting his mouth on you whenever possible since the beginning of your relationship. In fact, for those first few months, it was pretty much a guarantee that he would cum in his pants like a teenager anytime he gave you head.

Like a psychic, Eddie moves away from your clit right as the build up begins. But before you can whine any complaints, he starts fucking his tongue in and out of your hole. When you look down at him through hooded eyes you’re almost shocked at the sight of him completely engrossed in your pussy, his cheeks covered in your wetness with eyes screwed shut. The underside of his nose and his chin press harshly against you as he tries to push his tongue out as far as it’ll go.

He’s moaning into you, clearly enjoying the taste. For a brief moment you feel slightly jealous, wishing to have him in your mouth as well. You forget all envy, however, when he pushes further into you and shakes his head left to right, the vibrations from his moans present as ever.

The force with which his fingers dig into your flesh is sure to bruise the fat of your thighs, but you don’t notice the burn it’s causing until after being released. He looks up at you through his lashes and you watch as his tongue leaves your hole. With a devilish glare, he spits harshly directly on your clit before returning to licking and sucking it, the entire time his eyes never moving from your face. One arm unwraps itself from around your thigh so that he can extend out his pointer and middle fingers before plunging them into you. The other hand disappears to where your eyes can’t follow- but given how his moans picked up in ferocity, you were certain about what he was doing. Not only did his palming of himself make him louder, but it had his tongue pulsating against you and shoving you further over the edge to your orgasm. 

All hope of lasting longer was lost when he curled his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion, forgoing fucking them in and out to instead massage the spongy spot inside you. This, coupled with the way his lips were now focused on suckling your clit, had you tugging at his curls while you yelled out in pleasure.

This many orgasms so quickly after one another was slightly painful, but in a confusing way that only made you crave him inside you even more. Using your grip on his hair to yank him off of you, you sit up to see him on his knees with a crazed look in his eyes. His entire lower face from his nose down was glistening with the combination of your cum and his drool, and the sheets beneath where you sat didn’t feel any dryer.

“God, baby,” he groans, his voice completely wrecked with lust, “please tell me you don’t need a minute, cause I’m about to bust right now.”

Now that you’re not laying down, you’re able to peer over the edge of the mattress and see his hand at work, rubbing harshly over the zipper of his jeans to try and offer any sense of relief.

“I’m ready, Eds,” you pant out while nodding, still needing to catch your breath.

[hotteoki]

skz treating your skzoo plush

warnings: bullying of skzoo plushies, they deserve better 💔

notes: not proofread

©️ hotteoki | do not repost

chan (방찬)

you knew chan was THE most genuine and sweet man you've ever met in your life, you just didn't expect him to be so sweet with the wolf chan he gifted you for valentine’s day too. “oh my god you changed his clothes!” chan exclaimed, holding wolf chan up high to examine it.

“yeah! i ordered a few sets of new clothes for him, did you know how hard it was to find this one?” you grumbled. it was hard to find someone who custom made skzoo plush clothes, you were lucky enough to come across a creator on tiktok and immediately contacted them.

“he’s so cute…” chan cooed at it, stroking wolf chan’s ears gently. “i’ve got a few more clothes for him that i haven’t had the chance to change,” you held up a few small hangers that carried different plush outfits that were custom made for your special wolf chan. chan hummed, “i still think the one he’s wearing is the best.”

“you recognise it?” “course i do! it’s iconic!” wolf chan was sporting the red ‘thunderous’ outfit chan wore in the mv. “he’s so cute!” he gushed, kissing the plush. “starting to think you love him more than me,” you crossed your arms, teasing him. “baby, you’re the love of my entire life, and i adore you. but look at wolf chan!”

you couldn’t help but laugh. chan snuggled wolf chan close to his chest and closed his eyes, using it as a teddy bear. “like you don’t have the exact same one,” you rolled your eyes playfully. “but mine’s not in this cool outfit!” chan protested, grinned like a child seeing a rainbow for the first time. he just had to be so perfect, didn’t he?

minho (민호)

it was a terrible idea to leave minho sitting on your bed alone in your bedroom, with your innocent leebit sitting peacefully on your pillow by himself. you didn’t think about it much when you left to go to the bathroom, and you definitely didn’t think of how poor leebit was going to be treated by your supposedly loving boyfriend.

you came back into your room, hands still damp. amidst wiping the water off using your top, you gasped at the sight of leebit stripped of its adorable sailor outfit, a rubber band around its ears, tying them together. minho was leaning against your headboard, mindlessly swinging leebit around by its leg, acting like he's not torturing one of your most prized possessions.

"leebit!" you rushed forward, snatching the plushie from minho's grasp. he glared at you, offended, like you were the one who betrayed him. "why do you do that to my poor baby?" you asked, frowning, pulling the band off and clothing it once again. "i thought i was your baby?" minho teased, stealing leebit from your hold when he saw you struggling with the outfit.

"not after what i had just witnessed," you sat beside him, bringing your knees up to wrap your arms around your body. when leebit returned to its original look, minho tossed him away, pulling you close to him. "yah, tell me i'm your one and only," he whined, pinching your side. you sighed endearingly, "lee min ho, you're my one and only." minho gave no response and only buried his face in your neck, but you felt his widening smile against your warm skin.

changbin (창빈)

your eyes grew heavier and heavier; you were exhausted from the long week of overwhelming work. changbin had suggested the both of you to go straight to bed the second he stepped into your shared apartment and saw the tired expression on your face. you had shook your head, insisting you wanted to watch spirited away with him. neither of you have had any free time the past few days, work succumbing both of you. he had originally promised to watch a movie of your choice as soon as he got home, but that turned out to be later than he expected.

yawning, you snuggled your dwaekki plushie to your body and wriggled closer to changbin's warm body. you leaned your head against his broad shoulders, finally shutting your eyes. although your brain was sending all the signals your body needed to sleep, your thoughts were running wild and free.

you were so focused on forcing yourself to sleep you hadn't even realised dwaekki falling out of your arms and getting picked up by changbin. as you were about to speak, he sighed to the doll, interrupting you. you opted to stay silent to see what he has to say.

"yah, dwaekki, don't you find her stubborn?" you had to resist the urge slap changbin in the chest. you felt his arm that was wrapped securely around you tilt up, allowing him to brush his fingers over your cheek gently. "but that's what i like about her," he murmured, clearly not wanting to disturb you, "i just wish she could take care of herself the way she takes care of me. she's so caring, loving and just every good thing in existence shoved into one person, she deserves the world. you better not repeat this to her though, okay, dwaekki?" oh you were so in love with this man.

hyunjin (현진)

when hyunjin came out of the shower, he wasn't surprised to see you curled up on the couch, blanket engulfing you into a cocoon, your eyes fixated on the movie playing on the television, hair pushed back by your pink fluffy hairband that matched with his. he was, however, surprised to see your arms protecting little jiniret, who also had a mini hairband on its head.

hyunjin audibly gushed at the adorable sight, running over to jump on the couch, occupying the spot next to you. he placed his hand over his heart dramatically, pretending to be struck, head slumping down and squashing jiniret. "no!" you pulled the plush from underneath hyunjin’s head, earning an offended scoff from him.

“do you not love me anymore? have you ever loved me? were you just using me to get to jiniret?” he feigned a series of sobs. you rolled your eyes, stroking his cheeks gently and moving your legs to allow hyunjin to use them as a pillow comfortably. “yes, i’ve dated you for over two years just to have your doll. i’ve never loved you, it was all a lie.”

he pouted, sitting up and glaring at you, “this is an important topic, and you’re not going to take it seriously?” you leaned forward to kiss his pout, hand reaching up to lightly graze over his jawline, “i love you, so very much, hyunjin,” you mumbled against his soft lips. he smiled, resisting a love-struck giggle.

jisung (지성)

"ji!" you called for your boyfriend while walking around the dorm, seemingly unable to find him anywhere. "he's in the living room," changbin said without looking up from his phone as he passed by. you responded with a quick thanks before making your way there. true enough, there jisung was, going on his phone. he was laid horizontally on the couch, his legs dangling off the arm rest.

crawling on top of him, you laid there with him, your ear pressed against his chest, his steady heartbeat bringing a sense of calamity to you. his free hand began combing through your hair, and you sighed contentedly. “haven’t seen you all day,” you complained, moving your head to rest your chin against his body, looking up at him. jisung switched his phone off, tossing it on the coffee table, “aw, i missed you too.”

“what have you been up to?” you asked, subconsciously leaning into his hand. “well, quokka and i spent the whole day watching tiktok after chan convinced me to download it and watch some edits stays made,” he gestured at the plush that was placed beside his head. you hadn’t even noticed it. “is that my one?” you reached your hand up to collect it, noticing the outfit you bought before.

“yeah,” he confirmed. “don’t you have your own one?” it was meant to be a rhetorical question, you didn’t really mind him taking your quokka, as long as he returned it; it was one of your most prized possessions. jisung’s ears turned red and his cheeks flushed slightly, “it smells of you, and i missed you.” now you felt yourself blushing, and you hid your face in his chest, slightly embarrassed. he only chuckled, looping his arms around your frame and making himself comfortable with you.

felix (용복)

you strolled into the kitchen, hugging bbokari close to you. it wasn’t rare for you to drag the little chicken plush around, felix wasn’t always at home and bbokari provided you the comfort of him, though it was never as good as your actual boyfriend. even when felix was home, you had adopted the habit of bringing bbokari around; he didn’t mind, if anything, he found it endearing, it showed how much you love him.

your original plan was to look for a few snacks after feeling a bit peckish, but when you saw felix munching on a bag of fried chicken, you gasped loudly. the poor man jumped from fear, not hearing you come into the room. “felix lee!” you covered bbokari’s eyes, “how dare you?” his eyes widened, “i didn’t know you were in the room!” “and that makes it okay for you to commit cannibalism?!” you stroked the plush’s back soothingly, pressing his face to your chest.

“it’s not what it looks like-” felix tried to speak. “what else could it be?! how could you eat chicken in front of our child?!” he wiped his hands and mouth quickly, standing, “i didn’t mean to-” you interrupted by lowering your head, pretending to cry. this was a usual occurrence, both of you know it was all theatrics, it was just amusing to play along.

he stepped forward gingerly, wrapping his arms around your figure, bbokari in between your two bodies. felix stroked your hair, whispering apologies continuously. minho walked into the kitchen, scrunching up his face in confusion, “the hell are you two doing?” “we’re mourning our child,” felix sighed. minho stared, “you are so weird.”

seungmin (승민)

now you knew how seungmin treated his own puppym, that plush has seen things that you couldn’t even describe. on the contrary, you liked to hug your own puppym during your sleep, it was just so small and easy to hold, seungmin liked to complain about it being a replacement. normally, you never trusted seungmin with your puppym, as much as you loved him with your whole heart and soul, the man would probably throw the plush out the window just for the hell of it, so, you never let puppym out of your sight whenever seungmin came around.

you were curled up in your warm blanket cocoon, sleeping peacefully, seungmin, however, was not. he checked the clock on your bedside drawer impatiently, 2:19AM, it read. seungmin had long given up on shaking you, forcing you to stay awake with him, you had easily fallen back into your slumber each time. he grumbled; he had taken a nap in the afternoon, despite your chastising of how he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, he probably should have listened, given how awake he current was.

bored out of his mind, seungmin looked around the room for anything to pass time, and the innocent puppym falling out of your arms caught his eye. an idea popped up in his head and he caught the plush before it could fall on the ground. he began smacking the plush against your head, making sure not to apply too much force in case you could somehow get hurt from a doll. groaning, you blinked your sleep away, reaching your hand up to block puppym from being hit against your head anymore. upon realising what was happening, you slapped his hand, making him release your plush from his grip, “what is wrong with you?! it’s the middle of the night seungie!”

seungmin grinned from ear to ear, happy his attempts of waking you up had worked, “i can’t sleep and i’m bored.” you closed your eyes again, “how is that my problem?” “it’s not, but i’m making it your problem, only because i’m so deeply in love with you.” “stop trying to sway me, i’m pissed at you,” you mumbled, rolling your body away from him. seungmin leaned down to press a kiss on your cheek, “you love me too much to be pissed at me.”

jeongin (정인)

today was as usually; the two of you were cuddling, talking about nothing but also everything in general. you had your foxi.ny wrapped tightly in your arms, nuzzling your cheek into its fluffy ears every now and then. it was near midnight, but neither of you felt like sleeping yet, feeling content with your current position.

out of nowhere, as jeongin was in the middle of talking about what to eat tomorrow, he snatched your foxi.ny from your arms and continued on like nothing happened. you stared blankly at him, "excuse me?" he gave you a dirty look, like you were the one who stole his plush, "what? don't interrupt me."

you tried to reach for your foxi.ny again, failing as he held it farther away from you. "this is actually bullying," you pointed out. he only shrugged, "you looked more comfortable with it than me." you let your arm fall on his chest, "you're joking." "i'm very serious," jeongin firmly responded throwing foxi.ny away, the poor thing landing somewhere to the corner of your bedroom.

you sighed defeatedly, knowing you would never be able to get it back until the morning. jeongin only gave you the brightest smile, kissing your nose gently, pulling away with an exaggerated 'mwah'. this was unfair, how could you possibly stay mad at him when he's this cute?

[jess-the-vampire]

i’ve seen a few people claim Philip stripped caleb’s jacket off his body after his death as some morbid memento, but we already have his memories on the matter and he had caleb’s jacket pre-fight and was wearing it when he first arrived.

even in his shadow form you can make out he’s wearing the coat.

Not to mention caleb is never seen wearing it in any of the memories on the isles

Nah, as much as i know people love finding new ways to make philip even more morbid, if the story holds any weight, and it probably does, it seems far more likely caleb left it back on earth with philip. There’s no evidence to suggest philip stole it or rid him of it, but that caleb ditched it when he left.

and when philip assumed a witch kidnapped his brother, he put it on, probably as a form of comfort and keeping his brother close at a time where he assumed the worst could have happened to him. Kinda in the same vein of how luz was wearing eda’s jacket to keep her close during their separation.

It seems to be quite an important object to him, being what looks like his only link left to caleb as he was on earth. With the thought he also grew his hair out to have a ponytail like his older brother it appears to be less like “Stealing” and way more like a sign of what was originally his admiration and love for his brother.

A strong desire to be close to him and be like him through his appearance, tho only the version of him that he remembers best, which was the one back on earth...not the one that left him for the isles,

(Which def fuels even more why he didn’t appreciate luz insulting it, because it was basically also insulting the brother he’s trying so hard to recreate, the one that didn’t leave him)

This isn’t even out of character that philip likes to keep mementos of his brother, he even seems to have taken his old childhood mask his brother made him to the isles judging by his memories. Tho i’m sure the jacket holds more significance because it was caleb’s first specifically.

I think it’s definitely easy now to accuse Philip of every bad thing ever, and his obsession with his brother screams serious attachment issues. But it doesn’t appear he had that jacket on originally for anything but genuine love and care for him, at first at least.

There’s no evidence to suggest caleb told philip he was leaving, or any evidence that he even tried to talk to his brother about what was going on with him. As far as we know, he left, and philip, from his pov, went out to save the person he considers his entire world from what he believes might kill and/or hurt him.

And if philip wasn’t the villian of the show, i think a lot more people would be willing to sympathize with that part of his character.

His relationship with his brother has both a lot of resentment for leaving him behind and alone, but also a lot of the original love and admiration for him he held for years.

But with the knowledge he only became a hunter because he felt he needed to fit in with society for survival purposes, combined with the fact caleb was his only family and caretaker...while only being a few years older then him at the very least....you can see how this probably fueled so many of his issues.

Wanted to make a post about this cause while he deserves the crap for the bad stuff he actually does, it’s at least worth mentioning at one point he was just a naïve child raised in a bad community who originally just wanted to keep the one person he loved the most....safe.

and at one point, that jacket was not some morbid prize he got for what he did, or something he seemingly stole, or him trying to steal his brother’s look, it was originally just something he wore....because he did love him.

And to this day, he still kept it.

[comradekatara]

Genuinely asking—what changes would you make to the adult gaang designs? :)

this is such a fun question thank u for enabling me. i mean i draw them as adults sometimes so also check out my /oldergaang tag if u want visuals (altho i also change my designs a lot because my art is nothing if not inconsistent) but if i was just going with like standard character designs like if i could redesign that hideous “old friends” poster for example…

aang: get rid of that fucking. chinstrap. don’t give him white man features because what the hell is that. and let him wear his off the shoulder monk robes from book 3 because he was slaying with that fit. actually the way aang is drawn in imbalance is basically perfect i would retain that design into adulthood. thank u peter wartman for all that u do….

katara: i don’t mind the older katara design (from the little we see of it) but it’s also not nearly as cunty and slayful as i would like. katara is genuinely interested in fashion and loves experimenting with clothes and hair and makeup, i refuse to believe that as she ages and has more resources to tailor her style to her own personal tastes she wouldn’t get a little funky with it. like she kind of just looks boring and uninspired in her older design, and that’s unacceptable to me because she should be hot. adult katara should be the hottest woman you have ever seen in your life. and she should be buff, also. shredded, even.

toph: any signifiers of copness are obviously unacceptable to me. but even more that than, it’s very important to me that older toph is distinctly butch. i think she would cut her hair the second she realizes that there is no reconciliation to be found with her parents and that there is no reason to adhere to those confucian values. and she would wear a lot of sleeveless outfits (sort of like the shirt korra wears in “korra alone”) to show off her biceps and also space bracelet (spacelet) that is her prized possession forever. and she’s just kind of a hot hippie butch legend . period.

zuko: in the old friends poster he literally looks like a lizard so just like. no. wtf. and i like his long hair in theory but i don’t like that it’s styled after ozai and not ursa, i think his hair would be shwoopier and frame his face more. and his robes should be less spiky and militaristic and more designed for comfort because that’s what makes him feel most like his true authentic self and he deserves that. also weird for a guy who is trying to demilitarize the fire nation to wear an armor-adjacent type of outfit. so mainly he’d just look softer and more like his mom.

sokka: i hate buff goatee whitewashed sokka that is some kind of demon. lok did so little with him and yet said so much (all of it egregiously wrong, ofc). sokka would be fairly tall (although not as tall as aang) and have defined muscle but in a sinewy, lanky way. and despite always having enough to eat he’d still look somewhat malnourished just because he’s constantly overworked and exhausted and never takes care of himself. and his ponytail would be longer but he’d still shave the sides. and the older he gets the darker his clothes get until he basically just wears black all the time because at some point he realizes that it’s more advantageous to remain culturally ambiguous if he’s gonna be a cosmopolitan. and he wears glasses (which were a gift from kuei). and sometimes he uses a cane because he didn’t sufficiently take care of his broken leg after the war ended and now he’s paying the price for it. and his cane has a blade inside too, but he rarely ever even pulls out the blade because he can incapacitate someone with just a wooden stick anyway. so he looks like if a nerd was a shadow was about to collapse at any given moment was secretly ruling the entire world. and he’s not in any sort of front-facing position of power whatsoever but he’s actually pulling all the strings from behind the scenes, and it’s exhausting. his eyebags are visible from outer space.

suki: i don’t even think there is a “canon” adult suki character design besides her in her kyoshi warrior armor and makeup but to me casual suki just starts dressing more like sokka. like the loose baggy sleeveless shirts (except in a lighter shade of blue bc kyoshi island colors) and tight pants and boots. it’s a very dykey look already and they’re basically girlfriend twins so their styles would merge even more than it already has within the show itself. like sometimes people think that sokka and suki are siblings because they dress so similarly and give off such a similar vibe and they’re just like “but we’re literally different ethnicities??? and also we are currently making out????”

okay bonus round bc i can’t just neglect them

azula: she cuts her hair really short and as an adult leaves it to shoulder length for the most part because that’s more comfortable for her. like zuko, she also starts dressing for comfort, and for a period in her late teens stops wearing makeup altogether. she gets back into wearing makeup as an adult, but she stops caring about whether or not she leaves the house with lipstick on, and it becomes more about the process for her than the result. she’s comfy and cute and dykey.

mai: sokka is her lesbian style icon so after her first haircut that was inspired by toph’s haircut to piss off her parents, she gets an undercut and starts wearing her hair in a ponytail like sokka. as she gets older she also gets more confident in her body and doesn’t feel like she needs to wear baggy long-sleeved clothing at all times or she’ll die. and she isn’t rail thin as an adult either because she starts letting herself eat more than a single grain of rice at a time. also, she gets a sword.

ty lee: she becomes a kyoshi warrior so she starts incorporating more blues and greens into her wardrobe, but also more oranges and yellows after she embraces her air nomad heritage. and she just dresses very colorfully and has a vast rotation of different cute little outfits. and i think she’d also experiment with different hairstyles once she has the freedom to define herself outside of the aesthetics expected of her. she looks beautiful always

haru: he finally shaves that thang

[kurogane2512]

I know we are already in December but like...Hear me out-

NNN but is instead with ptn women

And I made sure to complete this before January~

PTN women during NNN

Type: Highly suggestive fluff (obvious mentions of sex and sexual acts)

Characters: Garofano, Cabernet, Chelsea, Langley, Eirene, Bai Yi, Chameleon

Can imagine any reader

Will win all the way through

CABERNET, LANGLEY

Yes, Cabernet has restraint. She has said it herself that she can wait for the ultimate taste to nurture and bloom. She can hold herself back for a month if you promise to compensate her well in the end; however, tempt her too much and you might just regret it. She won't come at you herself, but if you push her too much and are unable to hold back then she won't stop either.

Langley would make it a little challenge for you- "Prove your loyalty devotion to your boss by holding back for a month, rookie~". She will tease you the whole month and literally make you drip for her, all the while she's perfectly fine and unbothered. She doesn't have a high libido, but she loves seducing her rookie in all sorts of ways until you beg her to touch you. She knows you are going to be all over her the second the month ends.

Won't last more than 3 days

BAI YI, CHELSEA

Oh my god, these 2 horny mfs. Ahem, seriously tho neither of them can hold back their urges they are so needy. Chelsea may as well use some of her sugar mommy authority and make you obey to her needs, or she might just seduce you with sweet words and promises of pleasing you and honestly, who are you to deny? If your sugar mommy wants to be fucked, then you better be a good sugar baby and do what she wants~

Bai Yi is just..... no words, she just can't hold back her seductive teasing. She may have promised she'll comply and support you but this cheeky woman never had any intentions to let you win, she was already touchy before and now even more. She rubs her ass on your crotch with all innocent intentions, will press her boobs on your chest and snuggle up to you. And her voice? You'll melt in no time.

Will last halfway

EIRENE, GAROFANO

Eirene is needy, but she's too prideful to admit it. She'll take it as a competition to hold back, she finds it petty and thinks she's above something like NNN but if you challenge her then she takes it seriously- "Let's see who wins and there's a prize~" Oh, now she's fired up, she never runs from a competition. She thinks she is in control because she will seduce you a lot to make you lose; but truly, she's become extremely needy by the time it's halfway. But this is Eirene Campbell, the Quinn CEO, she won't ever admit defeat which is why she wants you to give in and fuck her senseless. You can edge her until she admits it but she'll keep denying and just degrade you for losing.

Garofano is possessive and wants to care for you, she doesn't care about her own needs but she can't see you suffer in any form. She is reluctant to do NNN but for you she agrees and she's genuinely sincere about it. She goes about her life like normal, but you are often putting yourself in danger and requiring her aid. She takes care of you like a mother, patching you up and gently kissing your wounds. While taking measurements for your shirts, her simple touches and brushes of her body make you tempted and she knows that well. She'll try to keep away but she can see the look in your eyes and can no longer deny you; after all, she cares too much for you. "You win, my love. I can't leave you when you need me~"

You think you won..... but did you really?

CHAMELEON

She deserves her own separate category ya'll know it. Chameleon so sly and has you wrapped around her finger. "No sex for a month? Hehe, as you wish, my darling~" She says with her usual smirk and the glint in her eyes, you know she's planning something. For the rest of the month, surprisingly nothing happens. She keeps a reasonable distance and doesn't tempt you in any way, makes no mentions and no suggestive touches. You feel like you passed the month in a breeze.... until certain memories slowly come back to you by the end.

In reality, Chameleon fucked you to her heart's content during the whole month and covered your memories of it to give you the satisfaction of winning. Every time she called you to her room, she had her fill of satifying you and herself- mostly herself. She made you fuck her as much as she wanted, and in the end she simply tampered with your mind and sent you your merry way to think you have been doing fine the whole month. Ah, you should have known this would happen....

[hades-in-bloom]

Al Dente

Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

summary: he might be of Italian descent, but he still can’t nail cooking pasta.

warnings & contents: assumed older Leon, but could be of any period; assumed age gap, but could be none; reader could be of any gender; fluff with attitude and smth that could be considered a prelude with grabbing and kisses; mentions of drinking; no pasta recipes, really, just stupid banter; a little bit of manhandling

a/n: am not Italian, so please let me know if I’ve committed any blasphemy. Also, this is one silly piece of writing because I’m de-stressing and can’t write anything serious, but am also obsessed with Leon tapping into his Italian descent. As always, proceed with caution and at your own risk; minors DNI! Masterlist

***

‘Oh, I swear…’ Leon mumbled, taking a look into the deep cylindrical pot that was cooking on the stove; the water boiling merrily. Kennedy sighed; he got distracted for a few minutes while taking a call from D.S.O.—which seemed enough for a batch of pasta to turn into goo.

Again.

Leon huffed out a bad word, lifted the pot from the heat, and dropped it straight into the sink without any attempt to retrieve its doughy contents. The man cracked open another beer bottle and took a sip, visibly consumed with heavy thoughts; the number of beers had perfectly correlated with the number of unsuccessfully cooked batches of pasta. Although Leon has never encouraged food waste, this time the big and scary D.S.O. agent refused to give up, steadily losing his sobriety with each try.

You watched him suffer for quite a while, half through the bottle of wine yourself—because grabbing popcorn would be too obvious and undoubtedly rude, although the show was getting more entertaining by the minute; Leon’s frustration was evident.

‘How’s it going?’ you hummed from behind his back. You did your best to hide your smirk.

Leon groaned. He knew you were having a laugh; who wouldn't in that situation, anyway.

‘I’d rather shoot a horde of zombies,’ Kennedy mumbled. He took another sip of his beer and hummed, assessing the situation. ‘Also, I'm running out of pasta.’

You were convinced he deserved the roast; however, his genuinely concerned facial expression made you chuckle.

‘Should we take a break?’ you tilted your head slightly, watching his reaction.

‘We?’ Leon raised his eyebrow, giving you a side-eye. ‘I am getting tortured. What exactly are you doing?’

You thought about it briefly; took a sip from your wine glass.

‘I guess I should be qualified as moral support?’ you assumed.

Leon scoffed, then couldn’t hold back a chuckle. He turned around, facing you; his eyes trained on your features then.

‘I bet you don’t know how to cook a proper al dente either.’

‘You bet?’ wine was your liquid courage, so you might have been too venturesome at that moment. Neither of you complained, though. The man of the hour was intrigued. ‘What if I were to cook you the nicest al dente pasta you’ve ever eaten, Kennedy?’

Scott snorted in a friendly manner and folded his arms over his chest.

‘Ever eaten is a bold claim, sweetheart,’ he teased, his smile growing wider. ‘My family were immigrants from Italy, you know that, right?’

You shrugged his comment off light-heartedly.

‘If I lose, I lose, right? And you could claim your prize,’ you smirked. Oh, you had no doubts he was interested.

His gaze bore into yours for a second; then his features relaxed, although you still could see his shoulders tense—you let it slip.

‘Alright, go forth and forward,’ he smirked; his stare spoke volumes. ‘I will start thinking of what you owe me in return when you screw it up.’

You quickly cleaned up the kitchen countertop, allowing clean water to boil one more in the cooking pot while you measured two portions of store-bought pasta.

Leon watched your actions over your shoulder before you felt his large palms on your hips.

‘Nicely done,’ he murmured from under your earlobe.

You knew he wouldn't be able to play fair; he wasn't big on losing, whether major or minor—and you cooking pasta al dente better than him, taking into account his heritage, was a below-the-belt insult to him. Thus, he didn't mind deploying desperate measures.

‘That’s cheating, Kennedy,’ you muttered, putting the batch of pasta into the pot.

‘I don't remember me touching you being against whatever rules,’ he hummed, placing his lips on your neck. Your heartbeat fastened. ‘Fairly, I don't remember us discussing any rules.’

‘You’ll regret it when I win,’ you claimed. Leon glanced into your pot once again. ‘A couple of minutes more…’ You hummed.

‘How do you know the perfect timing?’ he moaned into your ear. You smirked.

‘Who knows, maybe it would be awful…’ you teased, and he shook his head.

‘No, it won’t,’ Leon concluded quickly and, by lifting you up, grabbed you onto his shoulder. You squealed, losing the ground from under your feet, and clung onto his t-shirt from the back in an attempt to keep your balance.

‘Oh, you fiend!’ you watched him turn off the stove before dragging you into the bedroom. ‘That was our dinner!’

‘I think you're right—we should take a break; maybe, we could order pizza…’ he hummed. You groaned in response, helplessly hanging from his height, his hand holding you tight right under your asscheeks.

Leon let you slide from his shoulder onto the mattress in the bedroom, hovering over you in the next second. His lips barely touched yours when he smirked and watched you blush then.

‘…after I finish with the appetizer.’

[succulentsiren]

Practical Tips to Live A More Seductive Life: SucculentSiren x FemmeFataleVibe

It's my pleasure to provide this collab between FemmeFataleVibe and I. Seduction is a complex practice, so here we discussed new perspectives and ways to utilize it in your daily life. Thank you @femmefatalevibe for your enlightening knowledge. It definitely expanded my view on how to live more seductively.

What does seduction mean to you?

SucculentSiren: Seduction is using enchantment to attract a desired outcome. You can seduce yourself, by applying certain self-beliefs, or you can seduce others by influencing them and stimulating their senses and emotional responses.

FemmeFataleVibe: Being seductive cannot be reduced to a behavior, way of dressing, or speech. It is a palpable yet intangible shift in how you see yourself and how you show up for yourself alone or out in the world.

✦•······················•

Topics

-Mindset

FFV: Embrace an abundance mindset. Perceive new connections and opportunities as complimentary rather than a source of validation or self-actualization. Living as a seductress is only possible when you know you create a complete life without others' permission. You've already filled up your cup, so you have additional energy to give and receive to those individuals and projects that are deserving

SS: It is crucial to have a ‘Winners Mindset.” Shift your mindset from expecting to fail, to expecting to win. Envision yourself receiving your desires. Having this mindset eliminates anxiety and doubt around your capability in attaining what you want. You must also know that you are deserving of the things you are attracting. Be patient regardless of external circumstances. Keep your eyes in the prize and remain firm in your self beliefs.

Surrounding self with things that elevate you (people, hobbies, environment, décor)

FFV: Release any shame surrounding your pleasure-seeking fantasies. For a seductive individual, there is no guilt in living in a state of joy, fulfillment, and regular indulgence. Remind yourself that you're entitled to enjoy nice things –from your outfits and beauty routine to your meals, workouts, and our home environment. You should (generally) derive pleasure academic pursuits or professional identity, goals, relationships (of all types), and leisure activities. 

FFV: Allow yourself to feel deserving. Show up as the person you strive to be. Hold yourself, dress, speak, act, and move through the world in a way you aspire to be. Stop people-pleasing and allow yourself to minimize yourself or your goals for the comfort of others. Your peace of mind is the most sacred element of your being.

SS: Whether you know it or not, your surroundings have an immense influence on you. Who you spend time with, what you and you company talk about, who you follow and watch on social media, what decorations you decide to have in your home, etc. All around you you are being influenced. So choose to be surrounded by things and people that make you better. Know your strengths and weaknesses but appreciate and learn from others as well. Remove the people that see with lack, stress and fear. Befriend people who uplift, motivate and inspire you to see abundance and opportunity in all areas.

✦•······················•

Q&A

Q: Do you believe that being a seductive person has more to do with physical appearance or personality? How do you believe someone can show up as a more seductive person through how they present themselves – physically, emotionally, or socially? 

SS: I believe seduction is a combination of inner confidence, mental agility and an appealing appearance. Using seduction towards yourself can help with building self confidence and create a positive outlook on how you view yourself and therefore influence other people to treat you with respect.

FFV: I believe that being a seductive person stems from genuine self acceptance of your most authentic desires, unshakable inner confidence, and non-negotiable level of self respect. To embody these qualities, I believe that a seductive person's energy will radiate naturally through their personality into their physical presence through traits, including good posture eye contact, and mannerisms. Similarly, I believe that unwavering self-respect is a care aspect of being a seductive person. So, naturally, I think that a seductive person will embody their character traits through both personality traits like setting strong (healthy) boundaries and taking care of their appearance (excellent hygiene, prioritizing their health, remaining thoughtful when putting themselves together - clean, well-styled outfits, makeup, hairstyles, nails, perfume, etc.).

Q: How do you think you can be a more seductive person in areas of our life outside of your romantic or intimate endeavors? Do you believe that seduction is more of a libidinal or creative energy?

FFV: I believe cultivating your inner seductress/seducer will make you a better conversationalist, writer, speaker, dancer, athlete, chef, project manager, learner, etc. In my eyes, libidinal and creative energy are one and the same. So, I see creative energy, by definition, as the art of transmuting libidinal energy into areas of your life outside of the bedroom and romantic pursuits (think Napoleon Hill's concept of Sex Transmutation as an exercise of will-power in his book, Think and Grow Rich). I think you can be a more seductive person in any area of life that requires confidence, high energy, stream-of-consciousness-level focus (flow state), and, of course, creativity. Anecdotally, I've found that understanding that good writing is akin to good sex & sexual chemistry has been one of the best ways to up-level my professional skillset.

SS: Seduction is a creative practice of attracting your desires, sometimes through material and emotional lures. It isn’t always sexual, but since seduction stimulates emotions it can create pleasure. I believe a person can use seduction in various ways. When most people think of seduction, they think of manipulation or sneakiness but seduction is just a simple art of attracting what you desire at all costs. Having this mindset can help with becoming open minded and relentless when pursuing goals. Instead of settling and accepting what you don’t want, seduction shows you alternative ways to attain your desires and live a life that you truly enjoy. Using seduction in platonic relationships, can help you better understand the needs of others. Such as, putting yourself in someone else’s shoes. When you do this you make that person feel appreciated and heard. This quality alone enriches relationships, friendships and partnerships. Another example is disagreements. Seducers don’t have to argue, they listen and then strategize solutions that everyone can benefit from because no one wants to compromise if there's not anything that they too can benefit from.

[villainessprefect]

~Tell It to My Heart~

title: A little bit tired

Dialogue #2: “You’re such an ass. I don’t understand why I even like you.”

Leona x gn!reader

Read on AO3

"Thanks for helping out," you say while letting out a breath. Your heart is still racing from your escape. Despite the magestone being handed over and everything being settled the adrenaline had yet to leave your system.

Leona huffs, letting his gaze drift elsewhere. "You should have been more careful," he chides. "You three were about to cost us everything. You're lucky that I was there to save all of you. I've done more than I should have today."

You roll your eyes. His complaints are completely valid. Yes, you should have been more careful, but how could you predict that to happen?!

"I know. That's why I'm thanking you for all you did." You don't need to repeat yourself, not to him, but it feels better that you do. Besides, you doubt the school is going to flock towards him for practically saving it from the disastrous weather. "You were the star of the show, on and off the runway. Without you, we wouldn't have been able to get things back to normal."

"Oh?" His lips quirk up to an intrigued smile. Your words aren't slathered in butter like Ruggie's. They're different, genuine. Your thanks isn't coming from some place to try and worm yourself into his good graces, but the heart. It's a little strange to have something like that, but he appreciates it.

"If that's the case, don't you think I deserve a reward then?" He chuckles and keeps his gaze on you. "Come now, herbivore, you can't just tell me all that and expect a word of thanks to be my prize."

You didn't think it would end up like this. Maybe he did deserve something for putting up with all those lessons and sacrificing his time, but what could you offer him?

Lost in your thoughts, you don't realize that Leona had slowed his pace. He takes a slight detour from the path to the Hall of Mirrors. He lets out a sigh that catches your attention, causing you to stop and turn. You find the lion sitting on a patch of grass.

Leona doesn't speak, only motions for you to come to him. You obey.

"Leona? What are you doing?" You ask. It's a ridiculous question, you know, but it slips out.

He remains silent, waiting for you to inch closer and closer. He waits for the perfect moment to strike. Once you're within arms reach, he takes your hand and pulls you down. He ensures your fall isn't dangerous, letting your body fall onto him before settling you down. His head falls to your lap shortly after.

"Been on my feet all day, ya know?" He yawns, letting that be enough of an explanation for why he did this.

"Leona! Hey!" You shout. Normally you wouldn't mind this, it's a common occurrence and all, but...it's the fact that you're both still dressed in white and lying on some grass. These clothes aren't yours to begin with either! "Crewel is going to kill us if we get these outfits dirty!"

"Not my problem," he mutters. yeah, not a problem for a prince who can afford anything. But you? You were a different story. You heard how much these things cost from Ruggie and just imagining the numbers makes you groan.

"You could have at least let me change..." You sigh. Leona doesn't acknowledge your pleading despite his ears twitching. He simply stays down, eyes closed, with even breathing.

While you could move him off and make a run for it, you know better. Besides, if this was the reward he wanted, who were you to take it away from him?

"You're such an ass. I don't understand why I even like you," you mumble to yourself. A hand runs through some of his dark hair, playing with a few strands. It's a gentle touch that you have, one that won't waken him from his slumber.

You hold back another sigh and decide to take in the moment. Finally, you get to rest. Even if you weren't on stage, you were still doing a lot. Maybe taking a break before heading back isn't so bad. If you're going to get in trouble with Crewel, then so be it, but you might as well enjoy your moment of peace while you have it.

[severelystrangewriter]

Fireworks (Flufftober 2023 Day 4)

Pairing: keisuke baji x female reader

WC: 1258

Warnings: like, two curse words and baji may be a little ooc but idc

Summary: baji wants to go to the festival with you to see the fireworks

Note: i thought i would write something short and sweet for baji because he deserves it <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“The summer festival?” You questioned when a poster was shoved in your face.

You were currently sitting on a park bench with your friends when Baji ran up with the advertisement in his hand.

“Yep!” Baji lowered the paper to show his grinning face, “It’s tomorrow.”

“And?” You raised a brow.

“And we should go!” Baji exclaimed like it were obvious.

“That sounds fun,” Mikey commented.

“Yeah well, you guys tell me how it goes,” You hummed, “Because I can’t come.”

“What? Why? You always go with us to festivals,” Baji furrowed his brows, giving you a pout.

You shrugged nonchalantly and simply replied, “I’ve got a date tomorrow.”

“With what?” Baji sounded appalled. You rolled your eyes and scoffed, but answered him anyway.

“His name is Yuta, and he asked me to go out to dinner with him. He’s pretty cute so I accepted.”

“Why don’t you bring him along?” Mikey questioned, “You can always meet up after, right?”

“No, you guys will just scare him off,” You immediately declined.

Baji genuinely looked bummed that you already had plans, and your heart squeezed uncomfortably at the thought of upsetting him. He was right, you two would always go to festivals together; your favorite part was watching the fireworks. You briefly considered canceling your date, but you quickly shot down the thought, thinking that your crush on Baji was exactly why you needed to go on this date. You had to get over it.

Even as the subject changed, you tried to ignore your growing guilt every time you made eye contact with him. He definitely wasn’t hiding the fact he was upset by the news of your date, and the thought alone made your heart flutter.

~~~

Stood up. You couldn’t believe your rotten luck. It was the next evening and you were at the restaurant you were supposed to meet your date. You were all dressed up and looking nice and then got stood up by the stupid guy. After several voicemails and unanswered text messages that were getting increasingly more aggravated, you decided to cut your losses and go home.

It was on your way home that you passed by the park where they were holding the summer festival Baji was so excited about. Deciding to take a quick detour, you wandered among the booths.

Your eyes scanned the crowd, but you didn’t see anyone you recognized to rescue you from this lousy night. Figures.

“You there! You look like you could use a pick-me-up! Why not try your hand at winning a prize?” A vendor at the ring toss booth called for your attention. You opened your mouth to politely turn him down, but then you stopped, thinking why the hell not, one game couldn’t hurt.

You paid for one game and the vendor gave you three rings while explaining the rules. The game was a lot harder than it looked as you missed your first two shots right off the bat.

You looked at the last ring in your hand and thought that if you didn’t make this then it was a sign for you to go home.

Readying your stance, you took a deep breath, concentrating all of your energy into this one ring to land on a stupid milk bottle.

“Don’t miss!” An obnoxious voice shouted right as you tossed the last ring at the bottle. You scowled as it bounced off the milk bottle with a light ‘tink!’ and you turned to see Baji doubled over in laughter as Mikey giggled next to him.

After the boys were through with their chuckle fest, Baji straightened up and smirked, “Stand back (Y/n/n), lemme show you how a pro does it.”

“It was literally your fault that I missed,” You crossed your arms but stepped aside as Baji paid for three rings.

“So what’re you doing here? I thought you had a date?” Mikey asked as he looked around like he was expecting your mysterious date to show up.

You scoffed, “Yeah so did I.”

“Ah,” Mikey nodded in understanding, then he frowned, “Well that sucks.”

“Yeah well,” You clicked your tongue and shook your head in annoyance, “Things happen.”

“Want me to kick his ass?” Baji questioned, having tossed all three rings and won a decently sized colorful stuffed rabbit that he now held in his arms.

You sighed and shook your head again, “Nah, it’s really not worth it. He obviously didn’t think so.”

Baji began animating the rabbit and brought it closer to your face as he spoke in his best squeaky voice, “Well who needs that loser anyways when you got me~”

You couldn’t contain your laughter as he pretended to make the plushie kiss your cheek repeatedly. You only stopped when Baji rested it on top of your head, seeming satisfied now. With a curious glance, you took hold of it and held it in your arms.

“Keep it,” Baji grinned before you could ask, “He likes you better anyway.”

“Oh,” You hugged the rabbit to your chest, feeling heat bloom over your cheeks, “Thanks, Keisuke.”

“Let’s get something to eat,” Mikey said suddenly, “I’m starving.”

“Good idea,” You agreed.

And so the three of you enjoyed the rest of the festival, trying different foods and games. Around the halfway mark you and Baji lost Mikey who wandered off with Smiley and Angry who had joined you for a brief moment.

“I’ve had a lot of fun tonight,” You hummed as you two walked to find a spot to watch the fireworks that would be happening soon.

“Well I’d say being with me is a lot better than being on some lousy date playing twenty-one questions with a guy you barely know,” Baji pointed out.

“Careful Baji, someone might think you’re jealous,” You replied somewhat jokingly.

A silence fell over you both as you found a picnic table to sit at. Then Baji spoke up in an unusually quiet voice, “What if I am?”

Your eyes widened at this admission, “I- you… What?”

Baji shrugged, “So what if I was jealous? What would you do?”

“I…” You hesitated slightly before settling on the truth, “I would probably kiss you.”

“Probably?” He raised a brow, but you could see the playful smirk make its way back onto his face.

“Yeah maybe,” You felt your cheeks heat up again and looked away, offering a halfhearted shrug.

Baji took his two fingers and brought them under your chin to encourage you to look at him. Your breath caught in your throat at how close his face was to yours now and you were certain he could hear your heart pounding, threatening to beat out of your chest.

“I think I’d like that,” He whispered. Your eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in, finally closing the distance and pressing his lips gently against yours.

It was everything you imagined and more as he moved his lips slowly, pouring every ounce of passion into the kiss like it would be the only one you would ever share. But with the sparks you were feeling, you knew it wouldn’t be the last.

He only pulled away when you heard a big distant ‘boom!’ and both of you looked up at the night sky to see bright fireworks exploding, painting the darkness with a variety of colors.

Baji grinned and wrapped an arm around your shoulder to bring you closer to him, and you got comfortable by leaning into his touch. Watching the fireworks together was the perfect way to end the night.

[y2jiz]

⠀⠀⠀₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎⠀⠀plushies : the event ♡ winners　⁺

I just want to start by saying thank you to everyone who participated. Honestly, I didn't even think that anyone would join maybe like 2-3 ppl, so i was super happy when so many people joined. The hardest part about hosting an event is picking the winners, and since everyone had such gorgeous entries it was genuinely so hard to pick the winners. ⠀　　

⠀　　　⠀⠀ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎⠀⠀ ♡ winners :　　⁺

🥇 : @y2qi ❀ entry - let me tell you when i saw this mb i was in love like everything about it was just so gorgeous, and i literally just love the gif so much like its not even funny 😞. i could literally go on and on about this mb cause IT'S JUST PERFECT. 1st place is deffo deserved. congrats love!

(joint) 🥈 : @koosuvi ❀ entry - this mb was just SO adorable, like the way everything matched so perfectly n the color scheme of the mb was just insane to me. the whole mb was just so nice and refreshing to look at . congrats!!

@p-oisn ❀ entry - stop cause i have so many things to say about this mb 😭😭 it's like the CUTEST thing everr the colors are just everything, and the little bear gif is SO CUTE istg, AND THE div just added to the CUTENESS of the moodboard. like i literally just wanted to gobble up the moodboard cus of how cute it was. congrats!

🥉 : @ryeins ❀ entry - just look at the mb!! it's lit so stunning, and she even made her own divider which is by the way GORGEOUS, everything about this moodboard is just so perfect, like argue with a wall or smth if you disagree, not to also mention that that's ONE of my fav chuu icons. #chuustan4life🥰 . congrats!!

♡　|　runner 　ups 　:

@yrminji ✿ entry

@i08wony ✿ entry

⠀

♡ |　a special thanks to　 :

@f-loqweres @obrigados @eun-luv @vg-k @kisrui @poemale @haenxn @lilaquette @lil-liaa @f-lustra @wonjuii @jaes1lvr @aevrsie @y-unrei @b-ubbleberry @daddldee @gyustarzzi2 @chroumie @eundior @crazyfrm @yeossemble @poeticore @7kyujin @dllria @h-aerins @v-ahns for taking part in the event!!

important !! : DM me to claim your prize!! last day to claim the prizes will be on the 9th of Apr !!

And please note that it will take a while for me to hand out all of the prizes (i went all out with them 😭) there's so many prizes and only one of me so please be patient with me!! <3

[justsome-di]

Now a Pulitzer Prize winning book (don’t fact check this, just trust me) and featured on Obama’s 2023 Summer Reading List!

You should be reading Nobody Ends Up Dead in a Bathtub, Everyone Keeps Their Organs! Why? See above.

It’s a good story if I do say so myself. And if you read it, you’re a cool kid. Don’t you want to be a cool kid? This is something called peer pressure, and it usually works.

But for real, if you read Nobody Ends Up Dead then you’re going to go on a good adventure with good characters I guarantee you will love. Not to brag, but it is a pretty good story. There’s funny one-liners, a cute plot, and relatable characters that have been developed for years. Just heed warnings at the beginning of chapters. NEUD deals with some heavy topics such as eating disorders.

NEUD is officially all online for free. But you can still access bonus chapters and short stories on Patreon for only $4.

Links: 

AO3

Wattpad

Patreon (Patrons had early access to the whole novel and also get exclusive short stories with the characters and sneak peaks for new projects!)

Netflix Previews

Characters’ Playlists

You can also check out my carrd if there are any updates to how/where I post, it’ll probably be the most accurate place to find new or updated links.

Transcript under cut:

The Story is Dope

A New York office worker and a sex worker get set up on a date--one thinking it's a real blind date, the other under the impression it's an ordinary appointment. After realizing it was all a shitty prank, they set out for revenge. Their plan: show up to an upcoming Halloween office party as a genuine couple, convincing the pranksters they genuinely fell in love and refusing to let themselves become the butt of the joke.

Our main characters are Alex, an awkward admin assistant for a medical company who hasn't been on a date since he was a teenager, and Damián, a sex worker who seems way out of Alex's league but keeps insisting on spending time with him so they can perfect their revenge scheme.

The novel features a diverse cast and explores sex positivity. I also like to believe that it portrays sex work well. Damián is a hardworking man, doing what he loves, and meeting mostly great people along the way--but he also would benefit greatly if sex work was decriminalized and therefore had better resources at his disposal.

If you're looking for a story with LGBT characters that's mostly light-hearted but still packs a punch every few chapters, this is it! Overall, it's a happy story.

The Characters!

oh boy the characters!

we got Damián who's hardworking and doting on his lil bro but oh wow does he have some angst

we got Alex who is nothing more than a burning ball of anxiety trying his best--all too relatable

Leo, Damián's bro, is an ally, and he will make sure everyone knows. Also has angst.

Eve, Alex's lil sister, is an edgy teen who's failing calc and runs a queer book club

together, they're a weird lil dysfunctional family

I'll be honest. There's a lot of love in this story. From me and among the characters. The characters love each other, and I think the readers love them, too.

It touches on a lot of loneliness--inspired by how I've felt since Covid started--and a lot of the conflicting emotions that come with being gay. What happy endings do we deserve? What about happy middles?

It's a touching book about learning to be a better person and finding people who love you--platonically and romantically.

Here are some of my fave parts:

And then there was a streak of gray hair that shocked Alex. A streak of gray hair off to the side, nestled close to a salt and pepper beard. Textured hands held cocktails. Little, subtle lines creased when mouths laughed. Alex held his breath. On the packed floor, they were the only people Alex could see. They were laughing and holding each other and enjoying themselves, firmly in the place they knew they belonged. Flashes of teeth pressed against each other, disappearing for long seconds at a time.

--

“Sorry,” Alex said. “Your arm got heavy on top of me.” “You’re a little mouse of a man. I didn’t mean to crush you.” “I’m what?”

--

“A dog!” Damián cooed as he sat across from the lesbians. “His name is Yam,” Martin said.

“His name is Yam,” Damián cried. Kris and Clara released Yam and gently nudged him to Damián. Ecstatic, Damián picked him up and set him on his lap. “His name is Yam,” he repeated to Alex. “I heard.”

--

But he couldn’t deny that he was having a good time. It was like intense yoga with the perk of having a cock shoved up his ass. He was going to feel limber as fuck after.

--

“Can I do anything?” Alex asked. “To help cheer you up?”

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’d like to. If you let me.”

--

“Wow this sounds great where can I read it?”

Tumblr @justsome-di

Watpadd @justsome-di

Patreon @just some di (link on Tumblr)

AO3 @justsome_di

Updates every friday!